"And," said Judith, "we need be no longer a burden to Auntie."

The climax of constructive genius would be exhibited in the formation of a shepherd and shepherdess, for which Judith was to paint faces and hands; but their hats, their garments, their shoes, were to be made of sh.e.l.ls. The shepherdess was to have a basket on her arm, and in this basket were to be flowers, not made out of complete sh.e.l.ls, but out of particles of sea-sh.e.l.ls of rainbow colors.

What laughter, what exultation there was over the shepherd and shepherdess! How in imagination they surpa.s.sed the fascinations of Dresden china figures. And the price at which they were to be sold was settled. Nothing under a pound would be accepted, and that would be inadequate to represent the value of such a monument of skill and patience! The shepherd and shepherdess would have to be kept under gla.s.s bells, on a drawing-room mantel-shelf.

Judith's life had hitherto been pa.s.sed between her thoughtful, cultured father and her thoughtless, infantile brother. In some particulars she was old for her age, but in others she was younger than her years. As the companion of her father, she had gained powers of reasoning, a calmness in judging, and a shrewdness of sense which is unusual in a girl of eighteen. But as also the a.s.sociate of Jamie in his play, she had a childish delight in the simplest amus.e.m.e.nts, and a readiness to shake off all serious thought and fretting care in an instant, and to accommodate herself to the simplicity of her brother.

Thus--a child with a child--Judith and Jamie were on the common one windy, showery day, collecting sh.e.l.ls, laughing, chattering, rejoicing over choice snail-sh.e.l.ls, as though neither had pa.s.sed through a wave of trouble, as though life lay serene before them.

Judith had no experience of the world. With her natural wit and feminine instinct she had discovered that Cruel Coppinger loved her.

She had also no hesitation in deciding that he must be repulsed.

Should he seek her, she must avoid him. They could not possibly unite their lives. She had told him this, and there the matter ended. He must swallow his disappointment, and think no more about her. No one could have everything he wanted. Other people had to put up with rejection, why not Coppinger? It might be salutary to him to find that he could not have his way in all things. So she argued, and then she put aside from her all thought of the Captain, and gave herself up to consideration of snail-sh.e.l.l boxes, baskets, and shepherds and shepherdesses.

Jamie was developing a marvellous apt.i.tude for bird-stuffing. Mr.

Menaida had told Judith repeatedly that if the boy would stick to it, he might become as skilful as himself. He would be most happy, thankful to be able to pa.s.s over to him some of the work that acc.u.mulated, and which he could not execute. "I am not a professional; I am an amateur. I only stuff birds to amuse my leisure moments.

Provokingly enough, gentlemen do not believe this. They write to me as if I were a tradesman, laying their commands upon me, and I resent it.

I have a small income of my own, and am not forced to slave for my bread and 'baccy. Now, if Jamie will work with me and help me, I will cheerfully share profits with him. I must be director--that is understood."

But it was very doubtful whether poor Jamie could be taught to apply himself regularly to the work, and that under a desultory master, who could not himself remain at a task many minutes without becoming exhausted and abandoning it. Jamie could be induced to work only by being humored. He loved praise. He must be coaxed and flattered to undertake any task that gave trouble. Fortunately, taxidermy did not require any mental effort, and it was the straining of his imperfect mental powers that irritated and exhausted the boy.

With a little cajolery he might be got to do as much as did Uncle Zachie, and if Mr. Menaida were as good as his word--and there could be little doubt that so kind, amiable, and honorable a man would be that--Jamie would really earn a good deal of money. Judith also hoped to earn more with her sh.e.l.l-work, and together she trusted they would be able to support themselves without further tax on Miss Trevisa.

And what a childish pleasure they found in scheming their future, what they would do with their money, where they would take a house, how furnish it! They laughed over their schemes, and their pulses fluttered at the delightful pictures they conjured up. And all their rosy paradise was to rise out of the proceeds of stuffed birds and snail-sh.e.l.l chimney ornaments.

"Ju! come here, Ju!" cried Jamie.

Then again impatiently, "Ju! come here, Ju!"

"What is it, dear?"

"Here is the very house for us. Do come and see."

On the down, nestled against a wall that had once enclosed a garden, but was now ruinous, stood a cottage. It was built of wreck-timber, thatched with heather and bracken, and with stones laid on the thatching, which was bound with ropes, as protection against the wind.

A quaint, small house, with little windows under the low eaves; one story high, the window-frames painted white; the gla.s.s frosted with salt blown from the sea, so that it was impossible to look through the small panes, and discover what was within. The door had a gable over it, and the centre of the gable was occupied by a figure-head of Oth.e.l.lo. The Moor of Venice was black and well battered by storm, so that the paint was washed and bitten off him. There was a strong brick chimney in the midst of the roof, but no smoke issued from it, nor had the house the appearance of being inhabited. There were no blinds to the windows, there were no crocks, no drying linen about the house; it had a deserted look, and yet was in good repair.

"Oh, Ju!" said Jamie, "we will live here. Will it not be fun? And I shall have a gun and shoot birds."

"Whose house can it be?" asked Judith.

"I don't know. Ju, the door is open; shall we go in?"

"No, Jamie, we have no right there."

A little gate was in the wall, and Judith looked through. There had at one time certainly been a garden there, but it had been neglected, and allowed to be overrun with weeds. Roses, escallonica, and lavender had grown in untrimmed luxuriance. Marigolds rioted over the s.p.a.ce like a weed. Pinks flourished, loving the sandy soil, but here and there the rude blue thistle had intruded and a.s.serted its right to the sea-border land as its indigenous home.

Down came the rain, so lashing that Judith was constrained to seek shelter, and, in spite of her protest that she had no right to enter Oth.e.l.lo Cottage, she pa.s.sed the threshold.

No one was within but Jamie, who had not attended to her objection; led by curiosity, and excusing himself by the rain, he had opened the door and gone inside.

The house was unoccupied, and yet was not in a condition of neglect and decay. If no one lived there, yet certainly some one visited it, for it had not that mouldy atmosphere that pervades a house long shut up, nor were dust and sand deep on floor and table. There was furniture, though scanty. The hearth showed traces of having had a fire in it at no very distant period. There were benches. There were even tinder-box and candle on the mantle-shelf.

Jamie was in high excitement and delight. This was the ogre's cottage to which Jack had climbed up the bean-stalk. He was sure to find somewhere the hen that laid golden eggs, and the harp that played of itself.

Judith seated herself on one of the benches and sorted her sh.e.l.ls, leaving Jamie to amuse himself. As the house was uninhabited, it did not seem to her that any gross impropriety existed in allowing him to run in and out and peep round the rooms, and into the corners.

"Judith," he exclaimed, coming to her from an adjoining room, "there is a bed in here, and there are crooks in the wall!"

"What are the crooks for, dear?"

"For climbing, I think."

Then he ran back, and she saw no more of him for a while, but heard him scrambling.

She rose and went to the door into the adjoining apartment to see that he was after no mischief. She found that this apartment was intended for sleeping in. There was a bedstead with a mattress on it, but no clothes. Jamie had found some crooks in the wall, and was scrambling up these, with hands and feet, toward the ceiling, where she perceived an opening, apparently into the attic.

"Oh, Jamie! what are you doing there?"

"Ju, I want to see whether there is anything between the roof and the ceiling. There may be the harp there, or the hen that lays golden eggs."

"The shower is nearly over; I shall not wait for you."

She seated herself on the bed and watched him. He thrust open a sliding board, and crawled through into the attic. He would soon tire of exploring among the rafters, and would return dirty, and have to be cleared of cobwebs and dust. But it amused the boy. He was ever restless, and she would find it difficult to keep him occupied sitting by her below till the rain ceased, so she allowed him to scramble and search as he pleased. Very few minutes had pa.s.sed before Judith heard a short cough in the main room, and she at once rose and stepped back into it to apologize for her intrusion. To her great surprise she found her aunt there, at the little window, measuring it.

"A couple of yards will do--double width," said Miss Trevisa.

"Auntie!" exclaimed Judith. "Who ever would have thought of seeing you here?"

Miss Trevisa turned sharply round, and her lips tightened.

"And who would have thought of seeing you here," she answered, curtly.

"Auntie, the rain came on; I ran in here so as not to be wet through.

To whom does this house belong?"

"To the master--to whom else? Captain Coppinger."

"Are you measuring the window for blinds for him?"

"I am measuring for blinds, but not for him."

"But--who lives here?"

"No one as yet."

"Is any one coming to live here?"

"Yes--I am."