A BOMB-SHELL

I CAN hardly believe it is only a year I since I wrote my diary. I think it is things happening that make people old, and not just weeks and months and years rolling by.

Last winter Aunt Mildred married a doctor, and went to India with him. In March Aunt Caroline died. She went to a doctor's house in London to be cured of something, and she wasn't cured, and she never came back to us. I learnt to keep house, and put down in a book when I spent money; and I felt a hundred years old when father would come to me and say, "My dear Grisel, I do miss your dear aunt so much; I wonder if you could help me."

Then—I must try and write it quickly without crying, for it blots the ink so—father took a funeral on a bitter cold day, and it was blowing a blizzard, and they kept him waiting, and when he came home he was all in a shiver. Martha, our cook, who knows about everything, made him go to bed, and sent for a doctor. And two days afterwards Dr. Lane told me father had double pneumonia, and he was afraid he wouldn't get better.

It seemed as if the end of the world had come then.

Martha had a woman in from the village to help her nurse him. And Lynette and I cried all day long, while Puff couldn't and wouldn't understand how ill father was, and made as much noise as he always does. We sent for the boys to come home. And when Denys was here, I seemed to get more time to creep in and out of father's room, for he kept Puff quiet.

Father couldn't speak, and he seemed to be always sleeping, but one evening I was sitting with him. It was Sunday, and the others had gone to church. Another clergyman had come to take the service.

Suddenly father looked up quite brightly.

"Grisel," he said in a husky voice, "good little Grisel!"

"Oh, father!" I said, holding up one of his hands to my cheek. "You are going to get better."

He shook his head, and then after a few minutes he said in a husky voice:

"Grisel—remember—tell the boys—I charge you—Hold fast! Hold fast!—"

He stopped, and seemed to fall asleep before he had finished what he was saying.

Those were his last words. He died that night.

I want to write this quickly. It seemed all like a dreadful dream, but a dream which we could not wake up from.

The next thing that happened was father's lawyer arriving. Such a nice man! His name is Mr. Adamson. He told us that he and father used to be school-boys together, and father had been writing a lot of letters to him lately about us. He saw to everything, and after the funeral, still stayed on with us, arranging everything.

We shall have to leave this dear old Rectory, of course—and all the furniture is to be sold. But the most surprising thing of all is a letter that has arrived to-day. Aylwin says it is a bomb-shell, but Mr. Adamson is not a bit surprised; in fact, it is all through him that it has come.

You see, while Mr. Adamson has been looking through father's papers, we have talked together a lot, and Denys and I feel we're the eldest in a way that we've never felt before. Of course, Denys is always good at making plans, and Aylwin likes to argue against him just for the sake of argument. At first I felt nobody mattered, and nothing mattered, except that father had left us. But boys never think like that, and so Denys called a council to-day, directly after breakfast, and we met in our schoolroom.

Our dear old schoolroom! I love it so! Father and I had been talking about a governess coming to take Aunt Caroline's place, but time slipped on, and we have never yet heard of any one who seems exactly right. Now all that is over! Well, Denys began:

"It's all very well for Adamson to be telling us what we ought and what we oughtn't to do, but he isn't a relative—only a lawyer, though he's a decent chap. And lawyers expect to be paid for their advice. So I vote we do without him, and settle how we're going to live without his interference!"

Aylwin shook his head with his wiseacre look.

"That's all gas! We're minors, that's what we are, and it's a rotten fact which can't be got over."

Puff was seated on the top of his toy-cupboard, looking full of importance. Now he said, his eyes nearly starting out of his head with eagerness:

"What's a minor? I thoughted they were underground coal men!"

The boys laughed, but Lynette cried:

"Denys isn't a minor; he is Marjoribanks Major at school, and Aylwin is the minor!"

"Oh, stow it!" said Aylwin impatiently. "You're such a set of babies. A man is a minor till he is twenty-one, and lawyers can have their way with us till then."

"Perhaps," I said slowly, for I was thinking it out, "I can persuade him to let us take a cheap little cottage somewhere. It wouldn't cost much, and we could do without servants!"

Lynette made a grimace.

"I hate making beds and dusting!" she said.

"Will you listen to me?" said Denys in his grandest tone. "I mean to make Adamson tell me exactly how much money there is, and then we'll settle our plans accordingly. There's many a fellow my age who works to keep his family, and if it has got to be done, I'll do it, even if I may have to sweep out a shop!"

Aylwin and Lynette burst out laughing. Denys isn't the kind to use a broom, and we know it!

"You are going to be a soldier, Denys," I said earnestly. "However poor we are, you and Aylwin have got to serve your country—"

Denys looked very grave.

"That depends," he began; "and—"

Then the door opened, and Mr. Adamson walked in upon us. He is lodging in the village, and comes round every day after breakfast, and generally shuts himself up in father's study.

But he looked as if he had good news for us, and I wondered how he had the heart to smile as he did, when we were all in such trouble.

"Good morning, youngsters. Now I want a little talk with you. Have you ever heard of your grandfather Noble, or any of his family?"

"Noble was mother's name before she married," I said, "for Grace Noble was written in her old Bible. But mother never talked about her family to us. I didn't know she had one! I mean—I thought they were all dead long ago."

"Yes," said Denys, "she used to talk of a brother who died at sea, and a sister called Isobel; she told me of a scrape they got into once, when they were kids."

"A family estrangement is a sad thing," said Mr. Adamson, "but I took upon myself to write to your grandfather. And he has responded in a most generous way. In fact, he tells me he had seen the notice of your father's death in the paper, and was intending to write to ask if his people were looking after you. Hearing of your sad circumstances, he writes to offer you all, without any reservation, a home with him."

This was the bomb-shell. We simply stared at each other in amazement. We didn't know what to say for a moment.

Then I said:

"But I—we thought our grandfather was dead. Is he alive?"

"Very much so, and your Aunt Isobel lives with him, and says she will do her best to give you a welcome."

Denys drew himself up, and put on what Aylwin calls his Grand-duke's face.

"May I ask who and what our grandfather is, and why he hasn't taken the trouble to know us all these years?"

"Just stiff pride, my boy, and a hot temper. He did not wish your mother to marry your father, and she resisted his will and did it."

"Good for her!" muttered Aylwin.

"Our mother's grandmother was a Lady Louisa Noble," said Denys still very grandly. "Is this man his son?"

"Gently, my boy. Age merits respect. Your grandfather is a fine hearty old gentleman of comfortable means, and his place in Scotland is called Bantock Hall. He has been in the Army, and is a retired Colonel."

"Hem!" said Denys, refusing to be impressed. "He ought to have been a General before he left—something shady I should think if he wasn't. Either want of brains, or want of pluck!"

I gasped out:

"Oh, Denys, do hush! You're talking of darling mother's father!"

There was quite a scowl on Denys's face.

Mr. Adamson tapped the table with his pencil.

"Whatever your grandfather has done in the past, he has made generous amends now. It is not every one who would open their doors to five grandchildren of whom they know nothing. I trust you will all show your gratitude to him for his offer."

"Look here," said Denys, speaking very sternly, just as he does to Puff when he has been doing something dreadful: "is it absolutely impossible for us to live by ourselves, without living on our grandfather's charity? It isn't very pleasant for us, whatever he may feel about it. What money have we got? That's the question."

"Your father insured his life for £2,000. That will bring in about £80 or £90. But none of that can be touched except to help with your education—and five of you cannot live on that."

"If we had had no grandfather, what should we have done?" demanded Aylwin.

Mr. Adamson shrugged his shoulders.

"A black look-out for you! But we won't think of imaginary circumstances. This is Tuesday. Your grandfather has expressed his wish that you should go to him next Monday. That will leave you nearly a week to pack your clothes, say good-bye to your friends—and—and get accustomed to the idea of the move."

"What's his address?" asked Denys.

"Bantock Hall, near Killochan. I'll travel with you myself as far as Carlisle."

We could only stare at each other. The shock of it made me feel quite stupid. Why had we never heard of this grandfather before? Why had dear father never told us of him? That's what puzzled me.

And when Mr. Adamson went back to the study, I said so.

"It remains to be seen," said Aylwin, shaking his head mysteriously, "whether he's the genuine article or not. He won't long deceive us, if he's a rogue and a pretender."

"But why should he want the bother of us?" I said.

"Our money," suggested Lynette; "some old misers will do anything for gold."

Denys tramped up and down the room, and then stood frowning with his arms folded, like the picture of Napoleon in the dining-room.

"I don't like it," he said. "I wonder if he knows how old we are? He may think we are all nursery kids."

"We shall have to go," I said, tears coming into my eyes; for I felt awful at leaving our darling Rectory, we did all love it so!

"And this day week," said Lynette excitedly, "we shall be in his house and know all about him—I think it will be rather fun. And we're all going together; it won't be half bad!"

That's just like Lynette! She would say, if we were all going to be executed, that after all it would be rather fun!

I couldn't try to smile, but Puff broke in with his eager stammer:

"I—I think it will be jolly to go in the train, and shall we go across the sea to Scotland?"

"Get your geography book!" growled Denys.

Then Lynette and I went away to tell the servants, for cook had been awfully good to us. She has thought of everything and done everything, and made us a lovely cake only yesterday, "to cheer us up," she said.

It seems odd how we do get accustomed to things. We had another talk together after tea. And then Denys, who had been shut up in his bedroom for ever so long, told us what he had been doing.

"I'm not a baby," he said, "and, whether we're minors or not, we can't be packed off from one side of Great Britain to the other without feeling it. So I've just written a letter to the old gentleman. After all, I'm head of the family, and I considered it my duty. Would you like to hear it?"

Aylwin grinned and Lynette clapped her hands.

Denys stood by the fire, cleared his throat, and began:

   "DEAR SIR,

   "We are told by our lawyer that you say you are our grandfather and would like us to pay you a visit—"

"I want you all to keep this in mind," said Denys, looking at us sternly: "We're going on a visit, and if there are ructions—well, we can just come away again!"

"Where to?" I said under my breath.

Denys went on reading:

   "We have agreed we don't mind doing this, as if you are our mother's father, we should like to know you—"

"I shouldn't!" muttered Aylwin.

   "I suppose you are aware that a few hours ago we did not know that you were alive, so your letter has rather upset our plans and arrangements. Adamson is a good sort of chap, and we've told him we'll fall in. So you can expect us Monday—"

"Denys," I interrupted, "it strikes me as rather a rude letter, and ungrateful. He has offered us a home, remember! Don't pretend we don't understand it."

"Stow your jaw, old Gristle!" Aylwin said hotly. "You are like a suet pudding, so soft and sticky. This unknown relative of ours wants to be made to sit up. He has treated us abominably all these years!"

"He hasn't treated us at all," Lynette remarked.

"Will you shut up, and let me get on?" said Denys.

He went on reading:

   "And there remains now nothing to add but to thank you for your sudden desire to know us. I hope you'll find us worth the knowing.

"D. MARJORIBANKS,

"THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY."

"That isn't bad," said Aylwin as Denys came to a solemn pause, "but I think I could rub it in a bit harder about springing himself upon us like a Jack-in-the-Box. Do let me add a P.S."

"And me!" cried Lynette.

"And me!" I said.

"And me myself!" shouted Puff.

So after a good deal of argument, Denys let us each add our postscript. We told him that we must be in the letter, to show we weren't babies, so these are the postscripts.

   "P.S.—We'll try to be worth knowing, for darling mother was your daughter, and that's why I want to see you, and thank you very much for telling us to come.—GRISEL."

   "P.S.—But it's rough lines on fellows of the Fifth Form to have a strange grandfather spring on them like this.—AYLWIN."

   "P.S.—And we hope you'll be like old General Walton, who gives his grandchildren high-jinks at Xmas.—LYNETTE."

   "P.S.—And I hopes you have a pond with fwogs like us.—PUFF."

When Mr. Adamson came in to wish us good-night, Denys told him, in a grand way, that we had written to our grandfather.

"It's in the Post Office," said Denys, a little defiantly.

I thought he seemed afraid that Mr. Adamson would want to see it, but he only looked at Denys curiously, and said nothing.

After he had gone, we got out the map of Scotland and tried to see where Bantock Hall could be. We hunted for Killochan up and down for ages, and then at last Denys got a "Bradshaw" from father's study. He's always so clever about trains, and then we found it by each taking a part of the map, and we were awfully delighted to find that Killochan is on a little line not far from the sea. So then we settled ourselves round the fire, and we each described the house as we thought it would be.

Denys said, staring into the fire:

"I see a rugged tower house on bleak rocks with the sea dashing up to the small, narrow windows. Seagulls are screaming from their nests, there's no garden, no trees, nothing but grey rocks and grey sea, and a heavy nailed door, and inside there are stone passages, and dark chill rooms—"

We all shuddered.

Then Aylwin said:

"I see a straight long house with a courtyard, and fierce dogs before the door. When you open it, you go into a banqueting-hall, but it's empty, and there are holes in the floor, and broken windows, and rats racing round. In a west wing lives a shabby little man, and a tall, grim woman, his daughter. There's an old witch of a woman who's their servant, and they're chuckling over some underground rooms where some unknown grandchildren are going to be put. 'We'll make 'em work!' says the old man. He's a kind of inventor, and keeps machinery which he wants worked!"

We could not help laughing at Aylwin's picture. He loves making a story out of nothing.

"Now, listen!" said Lynette. "I see a lovely garden with fountains and apple-trees, and little boats ready for the sea, and sand, and bathing-machines, and a house full of sunshine and flowers, and a lot of servants, and ponies in stables, and a smiling old grandfather."

"I see," I said, "a big house, but very cold and stern, and it's in a town with a lot of houses round it. And there's a parade and a band, and no country at all, and no garden, and everything goes by clockwork. Now, Puff, it's your turn! What do you think our new home will be like?"

Puff's eyes nearly started out of his head. "I don't know, really I doesn't. I thinks it may be like this house, only with a very big hall to it—"

Then he snuggled up to me.

"Is this old grandfather a good man?"

"Oh yes, I suppose he is," I said vaguely.

"Then God will live in his house, just as He does in this one, won't He?"

Puff does say queer things.

"God lives everywhere, Puff; you know that."

"Not in wicked people's houses. He never does. Oh dear no! The devil lives with them."

He nodded his head so knowingly that I didn't know what to say—

"Well," said Lynette, "now we'll see who will be right. We've all made quite certain we're going to live in a big house."

"That's because of its name," I said; "a house is never called a hall unless it's pretty big!"

"I think we're jolly lucky," said Lynette. "Now there's no fear of us being beggars. Oh how I wish I could jump right into next Tuesday! It's awfully exciting not to know what kind of place we're going to!"

"It's a crisis in our lives," said Denys gravely.

"And crisises are always stunning," Lynette exclaimed. "But I don't know. I don't feel I shall be able to sleep to-night because of the strangeness of it all."

And Denys said to me, when we were going upstairs to bed:

"We must just grin and bear it. That's the worst of being minors, but we'll hope for the best."

"Yes," I answered, "it makes one rather fearful, but Puff is right—we can't get away from God."

Denys just gave a nod. He never talks goody, but he and I feel the same about things.

And now we're going to bed, and this day week where shall we be?