The Squire's Young Folk.

A Christmas Story.

BY

ELEANORA H. STOOKE

Author of "Uncle Jo's Old Coat," "The Enemy Next Door," "Dick Deane's Adventures," "Tom Tufton's Loyalty," etc.

WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS

London

S. W. Partridge & Co.

8 and 9 Paternoster Row

Made in Great Britain

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

I. THE COKER CHILDREN

II. BOB WILLS

III. BOB'S FIRST VISIT TO HALDON HALL

IV. THE BEGINNING OF THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS

V. AN AFTERNOON'S EXPERIENCES

VI. A CHRISTMAS EVE ADVENTURE

VII. CHRISTMAS DAY

The Squire's Young Folk.

CHAPTER I.

THE COKER CHILDREN.

"NELLIE, let's go in and see Mrs. Wills. Perhaps she'll give us some bread and cream."

"No, Rupert, we have the dogs with us. I think we'd better not stop to-day."

"Oh, nonsense! We can easily shut the dogs outside the door. Come along."

The speakers were Nellie and Rupert Coker, children of Mr. Coker, of Haldon Hall. They were returning from the village of Haldon, about a quarter of a mile from, which their home was situated, and were now passing Westhill, a picturesque old farmhouse built close to the high road.

Westhill was the property of Mr. Coker, and was in the occupation of Farmer Wills and his wife, a capable, hard-working, middle-aged couple.

As Nellie was evidently reluctant to make a call at the farm, Rupert decided that he would stop, for the sake of having his own way. He was eight years old, a year younger than his sister, and he never allowed her, on the strength of seniority, to dictate to him. So he marched up to the door and rapped upon it sharply with his knuckles. To his disappointment, the rosy-cheeked servant—Sally—who answered his somewhat imperative summons, informed him that Mrs. Wills was not at home. She had driven to the nearest railway station, two miles distant, to meet her husband.

"I did not know Farmer Wills was away," Rupert remarked.

Whilst Nellie, who had been standing at a little distance with the dogs—a spaniel and a terrier, fearful lest they should dash into the house and bespatter the spotless kitchen floor with their muddy feet, drew nearer, her face suddenly becoming full of interest. Like most children brought up in the country, they were vastly curious about their neighbours' affairs.

"Master's been away for several days," Sally informed them, "in London."

"In London!" they echoed.

Had Sally mentioned Timbuctoo instead of the metropolis, they could not have looked more surprised.

"I never heard of Farmer Wills going to London before," Nellie said reflectively. "He told me once, he hadn't slept out of his own bed for nearly thirty years. I suppose he went for a holiday, Sally?"

"He went to see his brother—Colonel Wills. The poor gentleman died a few hours after master reached him."

"Oh, how very sad!" cried Nellie, much shocked. "I have heard father speak of Colonel Wills."

"Yes," chimed in Rupert, "he was a soldier—a splendid fellow! He fought in the South African War, and won the Victoria Cross."

"He died nearly a week ago of pneumonia," Sally explained, "and he was buried yesterday; and this afternoon, master's bringing home his little son—about your age he must be, Master Rupert—to live here at Westhill. The poor child has no mother—she died when he was a baby."

"What's his name?" Nellie asked, looking sympathetic.

"Robert; but I'm told they call him Bob."

As Sally had apparently no more information to give, the children bade her good-afternoon, and proceeded homewards. Their way along the high road was thickly strewn with withered leaves, for the time was late autumn, and the trees on either hedge were nearly bare; but the weather was dry and mild still, and the sun shone in a sky of cloudless blue. Every now and again the young folks paused to give Tim, the terrier, opportunities of digging in rabbit holes, whilst Crack, the spaniel, watched him with anxious eyes. And on one of these occasions carriage wheels were heard, and a few minutes later, Farmer Wills' dog-cart appeared round a turn of the road, driven by the farmer himself, his wife by his side, and their visitor on the back seat of the vehicle.

Nellie nodded and smiled, and Rupert took off his cap to Mrs. Wills; then as the dog-cart passed by they were able to have a good look at the stranger—a blue-eyed, fair-haired boy, who returned their curious stares by distorting his face into the most hideous grimace possible.

Rupert laughed; but Nellie reddened angrily.

"He doesn't know who we are," said Rupert, who, as the son and heir of the largest landowner in the district, had no slight opinion of his own importance, "but Farmer Wills will tell him that father is his landlord."

The children soon reached the entrance to the grounds which surrounded their home. They flung open the heavy gate, and ran up the long carriage drive to the house.

"You had better take the dogs round to the yard," said Nellie.

"No—you," Rupert promptly replied; "it's as much your place to do so as mine."

"We'll both go; it won't do to let them into the house, because they're dreadfully dirty."

Accordingly the dogs were coaxed round to the yard, and shut into a stable to clean themselves in a bed of straw, whilst their young mistress and master went into the house and upstairs to the schoolroom, where their sister Lilian, and their governess, Miss Long, were busily engaged, the former with some knitting, the latter making clothing for a doll. Lilian Coker was a pretty little girl of eleven years of age, with wavy brown hair, and a face which wore a singularly bright and happy expression. She turned a pair of large grey eyes in the direction of the door as her sister and brother entered the room. No one seeing her at the moment would have guessed the truth—that she was blind.

"Where have you been all the afternoon?" she asked. "Miss Long and I have been getting on with the things for the Christmas tree. Of course there are six weeks yet to Christmas, but time does fly so fast."

"It does indeed," agreed Miss Long, glancing a trifle reproachfully at Nellie, who coloured and looked confused.

Every Christmas Eve Mr. Coker was in the habit of giving an entertainment in the village schoolroom to the working people of the parish. It generally consisted of a substantial tea, followed by a magic-lantern and Christmas tree for the children; and weeks beforehand preparations were being made for the all-important night. Nearly every member of the household at Haldon Hall was making some article to be hung on the Christmas tree. Nellie, who had commenced knitting cuffs with great zeal some weeks previously, had grown tired of her task, and had not touched her self-chosen work for days.

"It seems a shame to sit indoors on such a lovely afternoon as this," she said excusingly, "and Rupert and I have had such fun. And, oh, what do you think? That brave brother of Farmer Wills is dead. Isn't it sad?"

"Do you mean Colonel Wills, who distinguished himself in the South African War?" inquired Miss Long. "Your mother told me all about him—that he entered the army as a private, obtained a commission, and rose to be a colonel."

"Farmer Wills went to London to see him," Nellie proceeded, "and this afternoon, he has come home and brought Colonel Wills' little boy with him. We met Mr. and Mrs. Wills driving back from the station in their dog-cart, and the little boy was on the back seat. He made faces at us."

Miss Long smiled. She was a good-tempered young woman, and, though she was their governess, the children found her very companionable.

"I expect he'll be taken aback when he finds out we live here, and that his uncle is father's tenant," said Rupert; "he'll soon learn to know his place."

"You had better not speak like that before your father," Miss Long told him reprovingly.

Rupert made no answer. He was rather an important person in his own estimation.

The Squire, as Mr. Coker was generally called, and his wife were very proud of their only son, for he was a handsome little fellow with engaging manners, and really had many excellent qualities. He was affectionate and kind-hearted, and had never been known to tell a lie. But he was wayward and domineering, and, though he loved Nellie very dearly, he always tried to take the lead with her. And she, being a spirited child and a year older than her brother, would not be mastered. And the result was frequent quarrels, which, however, were generally followed by speedy reconciliations.

Though Rupert made no response to his governess, he had the grace to feel a little ashamed of himself; but at the same time, he made up his mind that Colonel Wills' son must be taught to know his place.

CHAPTER II.

BOB WILLS.

"MISS LONG, I want you to give Rupert a holiday, if you please," said Mr. Coker one morning a few days later, as the family at Haldon Hall, having finished breakfast, rose from the table. "I am going to Westhill, and I should like Rupert to make the acquaintance of Colonel Wills' little son. I saw him with his uncle yesterday, and asked him to come and spend Saturday here."

"Oh, father, do let me go to Westhill with you, too!" exclaimed Nellie. "You know," she added coaxingly, "we're not likely to have this fine weather long."

Mr. Coker laughed, and, turning to his wife, said:

"What do you say, my dear? Shall all three children have a holiday? Nellie and Rupert can accompany me to the farm, and you might order the carriage and go for a drive with Miss Long and Lilian."

Mrs. Coker agreed to this. So an hour later saw Mr. Coker start for Westhill with his two younger children, who plied him with questions about the stranger all the way.

"He has come to stay," Mr. Coker told them, "for Farmer Wills is now his guardian. Poor little orphan! You must be very kind to him. He is only eight years old, and he has been at a boarding school for two years."

"At boarding school!" the children echoed in amazement.

"Yes. When his father's regiment was ordered to South Africa, he was placed in a school, and there he remained till Colonel Wills was invalided home from the war."

On reaching Westhill, they were informed that the farmer was out, and that Master Bob was in the orchard. Mr. Coker went into the house to have a chat with Mrs. Wills, after having suggested that Nellie and Rupert should find Bob and make themselves known to him, with which proposition they readily agreed.

Crossing the yard, therefore, the children passed into the orchard beyond, and looked around in search of Bob. He was not visible, however, and they were retracing their footsteps when an apple, flung not over gently hit Rupert on the shoulder; and the next moment there was a rustling overhead, and a blue-eyed, fair-haired boy dropped from the lower branch of a tree into the long orchard grass.

"Fancy you not seeing me!" he cried. "And most of the leaves are down too!"

Then as neither of the others spoke, he continued, laughing merrily: "That was a good shot of mine, wasn't it?"

"Did you mean to hit me?" Rupert inquired, rubbing his shoulder.

"Rather! Did it hurt you?"

"It did," was the answer, given in a dignified manner.

"Oh, sorry, then! You were looking for someone, weren't you?"

"Yes, for you. We—my sister Nellie and I—have come to see you. Father says you're going to spend Saturday with us at Haldon Hall."

"Oh, yes! He asked me, and I said I would, I like your father, he's so jolly."

There was a slight pause. Bob Wills stood with his hands thrust in his trousers pockets, in an attitude of unstudied carelessness. Though only the age of Rupert, he had an assured manner, and appeared older than his years. He had grieved deeply at the loss of his father, and there was still a very sore spot in this heart; but the kindness of his aunt and uncle had done much to assuage his sorrow, and already he was beginning to take an interest in his new surroundings. He was the one to break the silence.

"I say, how you two stared at me the day I arrived!" he remarked. "Did you think me a wild animal?"

"No, we knew who you were," Nellie replied, a smile breaking over her countenance; "we'd just been hearing about you, and—and I'm afraid we were rather rude, but not so rude as you. I never saw any one make such faces!"

The next moment ... a fair-haired boy dropped from the lower branch of a tree.

Bob laughed, and drew his face into a most hideous grimace. He appeared quite proud of this capability of distorting his visage, which he evidently considered a great accomplishment, and explained that he had learnt it at school.

"You were very young to be sent to school," Nellie remarked; "how did you like it?"

"Oh, pretty well. I wasn't the youngest there. It was a school for kids whose mothers and fathers were abroad—in India, and different places. But I was glad when father came home. He said we should have such good times together, but—but—" The bright blue eyes grew misty for a moment, the clear voice choked; then, with a struggle for self-control, he continued: "Father was wounded, you know, but he was getting better, only, he caught a cold, and—he died."

"We are so sorry for you," Nellie said gently. "I hope you'll be friends with us—will you?"

Bob nodded. His heart warmed towards his companions, and he replied heartily, "Of course we'll be friends. I'm looking forward to Saturday. Are there only you two? I mean, are you Mr. Coker's only children?"

"Oh, no! There's Lilian," Rupert answered; "she's eleven years old, but she doesn't go about with Nellie and me much."

"Is she a stuck-up sort of girl, then?" inquired Bob.

"Oh, no, no! You mustn't think that. But she can't do just as we do, because she is blind."

"Blind!"

"Yes, she has been blind all her life, but you'd never think it to see her. She's very clever, plays the piano beautifully, and—"

"But isn't she dreadfully unhappy?" Bob interposed. "I should think she must be."

"Oh, no, indeed!" Rupert assured him. "She's such a merry girl—you should hear her laugh!"

"But never to be able to see anything or any one! It must be awful. And you say she has always been blind? Couldn't a doctor make her see?"

"No. Father and mother have taken her to several very clever doctors, and they all say the same, that she will always be blind," Nellie replied.

Bob looked inexpressibly shocked. He asked several more questions about Lilian, and finally said:

"Well, I should think you must always be trying to do things to please her to make up for her being blind."

His companions greeted this remark in silence, both being conscious that, on the contrary, it was generally Lilian who tried to please them. Then, by way of changing the conversation, Rupert spoke of the preparations which were being made for Christmas, to all of which Bob listened with great interest, wondering if he would be allowed a sight of the Christmas tree.

By-and-by Bob suggested that they should go into the house, and have some lunch; so they left the orchard, strolled through the farm-yard, and entered the large kitchen with its red-tiled floor. Only Sally was there, so they made their way to the dairy, where they found Mr. Coker in conversation with the mistress of the establishment, who was packing butter and eggs for market.

"Well, young people, have you made friends, eh?" Mr. Coker asked, as the children entered.

"Yes," assented Bob. "I was in an apple-tree in the orchard, and they didn't see me at first; but I let them know where I was by shying an apple at him," he said, indicating Rupert with a nod. "It was a true shot. You would have laughed to have seen how silly he looked, and how astonished!"

Rupert coloured and was vexed, for he was unaccustomed to being ridiculed. He had intended to be very kind to Bob; but, all the same, he had meant to give him to understand that he did not desire to be on too familiar terms with him immediately.

The children were regaled with bread and cream by Mrs. Wills. She, good soul, was delighted that her landlord evinced such interest in her little nephew, and thought it very kind of him to invite the boy to Haldon Hall. After her visitors had left, she asked Bob how he liked his new acquaintances.

"Oh, pretty well, Aunt Mary," he replied carelessly; "the girl seems rather nice, but I think the boy is a bit of a prig. If he shows any stuck-up airs to me, I shall soon let him see I won't stand them."

"Bob!" exclaimed Mrs. Wills. "I hope you'll behave well when you go to Haldon Hall."

"I shall show him he can't have his own way in everything," Bob said, with a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. "If he'd been to school as I have, he'd have been taught that before."

CHAPTER III.

BOB'S FIRST VISIT TO HALDON HALL.

WHEN Bob Wills marched up to the front door of Haldon Hall on the following Saturday, it was opened by Nellie and Rupert.

"We expected you before," the latter informed him. "Why didn't you come directly after breakfast?"

"I wanted to," he responded truthfully, "but Aunt Mary wouldn't let me."

"Well, come and speak to mother—she's in the dining-room with Miss Long."

The next minute Bob was shaking hands with Mrs. Coker, who greeted him very kindly. And then he was introduced to Miss Long, after which Rupert espied Lilian in the garden, and going to the open window called to her:

"Come in, Lilian! Bob Wills is here!" he shouted. "No-wait! We'll come to you," he added on second thoughts.

Bob regarded Lilian with mingled curiosity and sympathy when they joined her in the garden. If he had not been told she was blind, he would never have guessed the fact.

"I'm so glad you've come at last," she said, as she shook hands with him. "What would you like to do?"

"We thought we'd take him round the gardens and stables this morning," Rupert interposed. "It seems as though it might rain later on."

The gardens were well worth seeing. Bob, who loved flowers, was delighted; whilst Nellie and Rupert, who cared much less about them, grew a little impatient, as their visitor lingered over a bed of autumn violets.

"How sweet they are!" Bob cried, sniffing appreciatively.

Then, to his amazement, Lilian stooped over the bed, and gathered a bunch which she presented to him.

"Oh, thank you," he said, "but how could you pick them when you cannot see?"

"I can feel though," she replied, with a smile.

That was not the only time Lilian surprised him that day. She appeared absolutely fearless, and when they visited the stables, even climbed after the others up the steep ladder which led to the loft. The children sat down on bundles of sweet-scented hay, and became exceedingly confidential and sociable.

Bob recounted many of his school experiences, all of which, it must be confessed, went to show that Master Robert Wills must have been rather a troublesome pupil. And, not to be beaten, Rupert told how he and Nellie had defied Miss Long on more than one occasion. Lilian grew somewhat silent and grave as she listened; and at last Nellie said:

"Lilian thinks it's wrong to worry Miss Long—don't you, Lil?"

"Yes, I do," was the frank reply. "Mother and father expect us to obey her, so of course we ought. And she's so kind! See how hard she's working for the Christmas tree, and she knitted several rows to your cuffs yesterday, to help you on, Nellie. You'll come to the Christmas tree, won't you?" she asked, turning to Bob.

"Shall I be invited?" he inquired eagerly.

"Oh, yes! There'll be an entertainment in the village schoolroom, and Mr. and Mrs. Wills will be certain to bring you. It's only five weeks to Christmas; one doesn't realise it is so near because the weather is so fine and mild."

After the mid-day meal, the visitor was taken all over the house. Several hours passed in playing an entrancing game of hide-and-seek, in which Lilian joined with as much zest as the rest. They had tea with Miss Long in the schoolroom; and afterwards the boys went off together, whilst the girls settled down quietly to their work for the Christmas tree. As was natural, the conversation presently turned upon their visitor.