Nurse Heatherdale's Story

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Molesworth Mrs.. Nurse Heatherdale's Story

CHAPTER I. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

CHAPTER II. AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSAL

CHAPTER III. TRELUAN

CHAPTER IV. A NURSERY TEA

CHAPTER V. THE SHOP IN THE VILLAGE

CHAPTER VI. THE SMUGGLERS' CAVES

CHAPTER VII. A RAINY DAY

CHAPTER VIII. THE OLD LATIN GRAMMAR

CHAPTER IX. UPSET PLANS

CHAPTER X. THE NEW BABY

CHAPTER XI. IN DISGRACE AGAIN

CHAPTER XII. LOST

CHAPTER XIII 'OLD SIR DAVID'S' SECRET

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We hurried across the common – it was still daylight though the sun had set some little time. The red and gold were still lingering in the sky and casting a beautiful glow on the heather and the gorse bushes. For Brayling Common is not like what the word makes most people think of – there's no grass at all – it's all heather and gorse, and here and there clumps of brambles, and low down on the sandy soil all sorts of hardy, running, clinging little plants that ask for nothing but sunshine and air. For of moisture there's but scanty supply; it no sooner rains than it dries up again. But oh it is beautiful – the colours of it I've never seen equalled – not even in Italy or Switzerland, where I went with my first ladies, as I said before. The heather seems to change its shade a dozen times a day, as well as with every season – according as the sky is cloudy or bright, or the sun overhead or on his way up or down. I cannot say it the right way, but I know that many far cleverer than me would feel the same; you may travel far before you'd see a sweeter piece of nature than our common, with its wonderful changefulness and yet always beautiful.

'They're dear young ladies,' she said, 'though Miss Elisabeth is a bit masterful and Miss Baby – Augusta's her proper name – a bit spoilt. Take them all together, I think Miss Lally's my favourite, or would be if she was a little happier, poor child! I can't stand whiney children.'

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'Papa says so too – but mamma doesn't like it so much. It was Francie's mamma's name, but she's dead. And poor Francie's papa's dead too. He was papa's brother,' said Miss Lally, in her old-fashioned way. There was a funny mixture of old-fashionedness and simple, almost baby ways about all those children. I've never known any quite like them. No doubt it came in part from their being brought up so much by themselves, and having no other companions than each other. But from the first I always felt they were dear children, and more than common interesting.

A few days passed – very quiet and peaceful, and yet full of life too they seemed to me. I felt more like myself again, as folks say, than since my great trouble. It was sweet to have real little ones to see to again – if Miss Baby had only known it, that first evening's bathing her and tucking her up in bed brought tears of pleasure to my eyes.

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