book, The Water Babies . Mrs. Bedonebyasyoudid knew what everyone had done before they even thought of doing it and was ready to hold them all entirely accountable.
Today, it seemed that Lady Loveday had come to show Harrietâs new monument to her friends, for there she stood in the path, pointing it out. Aliceâs mouth curled with a cynical sort of amusement at the thought of what Harriet herself would say to that ridiculous stone angel, flinging its stone pleadings into the empty face of the sky.
Alice, like Harriet, did not believe in God, or angels, or prayers. She believed in birds on the wide, wild moor; and oak trees older than any human, even a Druid, could possibly know; and the lovely storms which raged and roared around Granny Goddenâs cottage in the long, black winter nights, while Alice curled up in her attic bed with a stolen stub of candle and the ragged copy of Treasure Island Harriet had lent her. God, Harriet had said scornfully, was only make-believe and prayers were a lot of empty words. Harriet was so positively negative that Alice had not found a reason to doubt her friendâs declaration of unbelief.
Which only made it more difficult, of course. If Alice had believed in God, she might have taken some comfort from the thought that He had whisked Harriet off to the beautiful place that the vicar mumbled about in Sunday sermon, where she would no doubt discover Smutty, the dear old black cat who had died in the shed last winter and whom they had buried under the gooseberry bushes. And that ill-tempered boy who had fallen off the cliff and broke his head on the rocksâalthough perhaps he wouldnât go to heaven, but to the other place, for in Aliceâs opinion, he had been truly beastly.
As it was, there was scarcely a shred of comfort, for Alice, who was a practical child, could plainly see that even if Harriet had wanted to rise up, she would be weighted down by that wretched marble slab installed on top of her. So Alice swallowed her loss as best she could, and eased the pain a little by imagining that Harriet (like Tom the chimney sweep in The Water Babies ), had become amphibious and lived on in the water where she had drowned. And Alice scattered blossoms on the water of Frenchmanâs Creek, and in the grass around Harrietâs grave, and sometimes tiny shells and bird feathers, and she had even brought back the doll, although Harriet hadnât much liked it. Treasure Island was another matter altogether. Alice had no intention of returning it .
At that moment, the fair-haired man strode around the corner of the church and surprised the three ladies, to whom he was obviously a stranger. He was no stranger to Alice, of course, for she had seen him more than once down by Frenchmanâs Creek with his field glasses, watching the boat moored there. In fact, he had been there again yesterday, when Harrietâs mother went to the boat. Alice knew this, for she had seen all three of them: the man with the field glasses, who kept himself well hidden behind the large oak tree on the other side of the creek; and Lady Loveday, who had run to climb into the boat; and the man with the white yachting cap who had put his arms around her and held her for a long time.
There were moments, like now, when Alice missed Harriet a very great deal, for she had been clever in ways that Alice was not, and immediately guessed things which Alice had to puzzle over for quite a long time. Harriet would have been able to guess in a flash why her motherâs face had turned a dark, dull red when the man with the field glasses spoke to her reproachfully just nowâAlice hadnât quite been able to hear what he saidâand why her voice had been so thin and trembly when she replied. Harriet had known why her mother went to the boat, although when Alice asked, she had pressed her lips together in a thin line and said she didnât want to discuss it. Alice hadnât pressed, for
Today, it seemed that Lady Loveday had come to show Harrietâs new monument to her friends, for there she stood in the path, pointing it out. Aliceâs mouth curled with a cynical sort of amusement at the thought of what Harriet herself would say to that ridiculous stone angel, flinging its stone pleadings into the empty face of the sky.
Alice, like Harriet, did not believe in God, or angels, or prayers. She believed in birds on the wide, wild moor; and oak trees older than any human, even a Druid, could possibly know; and the lovely storms which raged and roared around Granny Goddenâs cottage in the long, black winter nights, while Alice curled up in her attic bed with a stolen stub of candle and the ragged copy of Treasure Island Harriet had lent her. God, Harriet had said scornfully, was only make-believe and prayers were a lot of empty words. Harriet was so positively negative that Alice had not found a reason to doubt her friendâs declaration of unbelief.
Which only made it more difficult, of course. If Alice had believed in God, she might have taken some comfort from the thought that He had whisked Harriet off to the beautiful place that the vicar mumbled about in Sunday sermon, where she would no doubt discover Smutty, the dear old black cat who had died in the shed last winter and whom they had buried under the gooseberry bushes. And that ill-tempered boy who had fallen off the cliff and broke his head on the rocksâalthough perhaps he wouldnât go to heaven, but to the other place, for in Aliceâs opinion, he had been truly beastly.
As it was, there was scarcely a shred of comfort, for Alice, who was a practical child, could plainly see that even if Harriet had wanted to rise up, she would be weighted down by that wretched marble slab installed on top of her. So Alice swallowed her loss as best she could, and eased the pain a little by imagining that Harriet (like Tom the chimney sweep in The Water Babies ), had become amphibious and lived on in the water where she had drowned. And Alice scattered blossoms on the water of Frenchmanâs Creek, and in the grass around Harrietâs grave, and sometimes tiny shells and bird feathers, and she had even brought back the doll, although Harriet hadnât much liked it. Treasure Island was another matter altogether. Alice had no intention of returning it .
At that moment, the fair-haired man strode around the corner of the church and surprised the three ladies, to whom he was obviously a stranger. He was no stranger to Alice, of course, for she had seen him more than once down by Frenchmanâs Creek with his field glasses, watching the boat moored there. In fact, he had been there again yesterday, when Harrietâs mother went to the boat. Alice knew this, for she had seen all three of them: the man with the field glasses, who kept himself well hidden behind the large oak tree on the other side of the creek; and Lady Loveday, who had run to climb into the boat; and the man with the white yachting cap who had put his arms around her and held her for a long time.
There were moments, like now, when Alice missed Harriet a very great deal, for she had been clever in ways that Alice was not, and immediately guessed things which Alice had to puzzle over for quite a long time. Harriet would have been able to guess in a flash why her motherâs face had turned a dark, dull red when the man with the field glasses spoke to her reproachfully just nowâAlice hadnât quite been able to hear what he saidâand why her voice had been so thin and trembly when she replied. Harriet had known why her mother went to the boat, although when Alice asked, she had pressed her lips together in a thin line and said she didnât want to discuss it. Alice hadnât pressed, for
Similar Books
