In Midsummer Days, and Other Tales

***

And the dove flew to the pretty cottage, where the unhappy little mother had taken rooms for the summer. She sat on the verandah, working at a sewing machine; her face was as white as a lily, and her red felt hat looked like a huge poppy on her hair, which was as black as a mourning veil. She was busy making a pinafore which her little girl was to wear on Midsummer Eve, and the child sat at her feet on the floor, cutting up little pieces of material which were not wanted.

"Why isn't daddy coming home?" asked the little girl, looking up.

That was a very difficult question, so difficult that the young mother could not answer it; and very possibly daddy could not have answered it either, for he was far away in a foreign country with his grief, which was twice as great as mammy's.

The sewing machine was not in good order, but it stitched and stitched; it made as many pricks as a human heart can bear before it breaks, but every prick only served to pull the thread tighter--it was curious!

"I want to go to the village, mammy," said the little girl. "I want to see the sun, for it is so dark here."

"You shall go and play in the sunshine this afternoon, darling."

I must tell you that it was very dark between the high cliffs on this side of the island; the cottage stood in a gloomy pine-grove, which completely hid the view of the sea.

"And I want you to buy me a lot of toys, mammy."

"Darling, we have so little money to buy toys with," answered the mother, bending her head still lower over their work.

And that was the truth; for their comfort had changed into penury. They had no servant, and the mother had to do the whole house-work herself.

But when she saw the sad face of the little girl, she took her on her knees.

"Put your little arms round mammy's neck," she said.

The little one obeyed.

"Now give mammy a kiss!"

The rosy little half-open mouth, which looked like the mouth of a little bird, was pressed against her lips; and when the blue eyes, blue as the flower of the flax, smiled into hers, her beautiful face reflected the sweet innocence of the little one, and made her look like a happy child herself, playing in the sunshine.

"No use my singing to them of the Kingdom of Heaven," thought the dove, "but if I can in any way serve them, I will."

And then it flew away towards the sunny village, for it had work to do there.

***

It was afternoon now; the little mother took a basket on one arm and the child's little hand into hers, and they left the cottage. She had never been to the village, but she knew that it was situated somewhere towards sunset, on the other side of the island, and the farmer had told her that she would have to get over six stiles and walk through six latticed gates before she could get there.

And on they went.

Their way lay along a footpath, full of stones and old tree-roots, so that she was obliged to carry the little girl, and that was very hard work. The doctor had told her that the child must not strain her left foot, because it was so weak that it might easily have grown deformed.

The young mother staggered along, under her beloved burden, and large beads of perspiration stood like pearls on her forehead, for it was very hot in the wood.

"I am so thirsty, mammy," whispered the little, complaining voice.

"Have patience, darling, there will be plenty of water when we get there."