Barbara in Brittany

  Produced by Al Haines

  Cover artwork]

  [Frontispiece: "'The farmer would spare you those, madam.'"]

  BARBARA IN BRITTANY

  E. A. Gillie

  Title page artwork]

  Illustrated by FRANK ADAMS

  LONDON AND GLASGOW

  COLLINS' CLEAR-TYPE PRESS

  1915

  TO

  MAISIE, MARGARET, AND CUTHBERT,

  IN REMEMBRANCE OF SEPTEMBER 1905.

  CONTENTS.

  CHAP.

  I. AUNT ANNE II. NO. 14 RUE ST. SULPICE III. A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE IV. THE MAN IN BLUE GLASSES V. GOOD-BYE TO PARIS VI. THE REVOLT OF TWO VII. A WILD DRIVE VIII. MONT ST. MICHEL IX. MADEMOISELLE VIRE X. THE "AMERICAN PRETENDER" XI. BARBARA TURNS PLOTTER XII. THE PLOT THICKENS XIII. THE ESCAPE XIV. A WAYSIDE INN XV. THE STRIKE XVI. BARBARA TURNS DETECTIVE XVII. A MEMORY AND A "MANOIR" XVIII. AUNT ANNE AGAIN XIX. THE END OF THE STORY XX. THE CODA

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  Cover artwork

  "'The farmer would spare you those, madam.'" . . . _Frontispiece_

  Title page artwork

  "Barbara was reading a guide book on Brittany."

  "She glanced over her shoulder at the sea."

  "They surprised Denys by suddenly joining him."

  Barbara in Brittany.

  CHAPTER I.

  AUNT ANNE.

  Barbara entered the nursery with rather a worried look on her face."Aunt Anne is coming to-morrow, children," she announced.

  "To-morrow!" exclaimed a fair-haired boy, rising from the window-seat."Oh, I say, Barbe, that's really rather hard lines--in the holidays,too."

  "Just as we were preparing to have a really exciting time," sighedFrances, who was her brother's close companion and ally.

  "I know it's a little hard," Barbara said consolingly, sitting downbeside them and taking one of the twins on her lap, while the otherleaned up against her. "But you will all try to be good and nice toher, won't you? She went away with a bad opinion of us last time, andit worries mother. Besides, we mustn't forget that she was father'ssister."

  "I can't think how she ever came to be," sighed Frances. "She's sodreadfully particular, and we always seem naughtier when she's here.But we'll make an effort, Barbara."

  "And you won't run away as soon as she speaks to you, Lucy?" Barbarawent on, looking at the little girl in her lap. "It's rude, you know.You must try to talk nicely when she wants you to."

  "Yes;" and the child nodded. "Only she does seem to make a lot ofconcussions when she comes."

  "You mean discussions," Donald corrected. "You shouldn't use words youdon't understand, Lucy. But I must say I agree with you; I know shealways raises my corruption."

  "What!" gasped Barbara.

  "Raises my corruption," repeated her brother; "that's a good oldScottish expression that I've just found in a book, and itmeans--'makes you angry.'"

  "Well, don't use it before Aunt Anne, there's a dear," Barbara urged,getting up. "She thinks we use quite enough queer expressions as itis."

  "I'll speak like a regular infant prodigy. But surely you're not goingyet? You've just come!"

  "I must help to get things ready for Aunt Anne," Barbara said gaily,for she had recovered her spirits since procuring the children'spromise of good behaviour. "I'll come to you later."

  "Barbara is really rather an angel," remarked Donald after she hadgone. "It's not many sisters would slave in the house, instead ofhaving another maid, to let a fellow go to a decent school."

  "You're quoting mother," Frances replied, hanging out of the window ina dangerous position; "but, of course, it's true. If I only had timeI'd write a fascinating romance about her."

  "I'll read every page of it and buy a hundred copies," her brotherpromised gallantly; but, as he knew that there was nothing Franceshated more than writing, he felt pretty safe. "Of course," he pursued,"Aunt Anne thinks mother spoils us. I don't quite think that--it'sjust that she's so nice and sympathetic with us when we're naughty, andAunt Anne doesn't understand that. But still, to please Barbe, and aswe've promised, we must try to be respectable and good this time.Remember, twins!"

  The twins were not noted for long memories, but their intentions weregood, and the first day of Aunt Anne's visit passed very well, thechildren remembering to rub their feet on the mat, shut the doorsoftly, and not fidget at meals. But the exertion seemed too much forthem, and the second day began rather boisterously, and did not improveas it went on. After lunch, when the twins came into the drawing-room,Lucy drew a footstool near her aunt, and sat down meekly upon it,thinking that the sooner Aunt Anne began to talk the sooner it would beover.

  Aunt Anne was feeling almost as much embarrassed by the presence of somany children as they were by that of their aunt, but her sense of dutywas strong, and she began to make conversation with the one nearesther--who happened to be Lucy.

  "What are you doing in lessons now, Lucy?"

  Lucy looked solemn.

  "Chiefly history," she said.

  Frances laughed.

  "It's only stories," she exclaimed, "that Barbara tells her and Dick."

  "It's history," repeated Lucy indignantly; "isn't it, Dick? It's allabout England."

  "I should have thought writing was more suitable for a little girl likeyou."

  Frances opened her mouth to retort, but caught a warning glance fromBarbara and subsided. Then conversation languished and Lucy lookedacross longingly at her sister, to see if she had done her duty. Butnot being able to catch her eye, she sighed, and supposing she had notyet fulfilled her part, cast about in her mind for something else tosay.

  "Do you live far from here?" she began suddenly, staring at her aunt.

  "Quite a long way," Miss Britton replied. "In Wales--perhaps you knowwhere that is?"

  "Oh, yes," exclaimed Lucy, rising in her excitement. "It's where theancient Britons were sent. Barbara told us about them. Oh, pleaseAunt Anne, aren't you an ancient Briton?"

  Aunt Anne smiled grimly.

  "No, I am not. They lived in quite the olden times, and were clothedin skins."

  "But are you sure?" pressed the child. "It's just the skins seemwanting. They were driven into Wales, and surely you're a Briton andcome from the olden times. You're really quite ancient aren't you,Aunt Anne?"

  Barbara was thankful her aunt laughed, but she was not so glad thatDonald and Frances found their laughter so irrepressible that they hadto resort to the sofa-cushions; and when the twins were dismissed alittle later by Mrs. Britton, she was rather relieved to see themfollow. But from that moment the spirit of hilarity seemed to havefallen upon all the children, and Barbara looked regretfully at thefalling rain and wondered how she should keep them occupied for therest of the day--for it was just the beginning of the holidays, whenthey were usually allowed a good deal of liberty.

  She knew by the noise that presently sounded from upstairs that theyhad begun "hide-and-seek," and she read disapproval of the uproar inher aunt's face, and went upstairs to suggest something else. Thechildren good-temperedly betook themselves to "soap bubbles," Francesconsenting to fetch the tray "to keep things tidy" if Donald would takeit back; and Barbara left them, congratulating herself that they weresafely settled over something quiet.

  It was, therefore, surely an evil fate that made Aunt Anne begin to goupstairs later in the afternoon, just as Donald was descending rapidlywith the tray--not in his hand.

  "I _am_ so sorry," he said, getting up in dismay after his rapid slide."What a comfort I didn't knock you over; but it's so much the quickestway of bringing a tray down. I---- Have you ever tried it?"

  If he had not been considerably agitated
he would not have asked such afoolish question, and perhaps if Aunt Anne had really not got a severefright she would not have been so much annoyed. But as it was, shestalked past him without saying a word and went up to her room.

  "There!" he said ruefully, "I've done it, and I really did mean to begood."

  The incident subdued them all considerably, and Barbara hoped that nowthey might get to the end of the visit without any further mishaps.But next morning at breakfast that hope was banished, for her aunt camedownstairs with such an expression of annoyance upon her face, thatevery one knew something really unpleasant was coming.

  "Is anything wrong?" Mrs. Britton asked anxiously. "Did you not sleepwell--or--surely the children did not--annoy you in any way?" Visionsof apple-pie beds were floating before her mind, although thechildren's looks of innocence somewhat reassured her on that point.

  "Some one has annoyed me considerably," Aunt Anne said coldly, "byinterfering with my clothes. When I came to put on my blue blouse thismorning, I found that every other one of the silver buttons had beencut off."

  There was a gasp of astonishment, and Barbara was just about to scornthe notion that any of the children could have been concerned in thematter, when her eyes fell on Dick's face. Miss Britton was looking inthe same direction.

  "I should think that little boy knows something about it," she said.

  "Dick!" Mrs. Britton exclaimed, for he was usually the least apt of thethree to get into mischief.

  "Dick, what did you do it for? Tell us why you did it?" Barbaraquestioned eagerly, and the little boy was just about to reply whenMiss Britton spoke again.

  "I should think he had no reason at all except wanton mischief.Perhaps he used the buttons for marbles; there cannot be any realreason for such a silly deed, though he may make one up. Well, why didyou do it?"

  Barbara saw the obstinate expression that they dreaded creeping overthe little boy's face at her aunt's words, and knew that now they wouldprobably get nothing satisfactory from him; but she was not quiteprepared for the answer that came so defiantly.

  "I did it for ornament, of course."

  There was silence for a moment; then Mrs. Britton sent the little boyto the nursery to stay there till he was sent for.

  "I _am_ so sorry, Anne," she said in distress. "I cannot think whathas made him do it."

  "It is just the result of your upbringing. I always said you wereabsurdly indulgent to the children."

  Then, because Barbara was sure that Dick had had some other reason thatwould perhaps have explained his action, and because she saw tears inher mother's eyes, and knew how lonely and tired she often felt, andhow anxious about the welfare of the children and the care of thehouse, she turned wrathfully upon her aunt.

  "You have no right to criticise mother like that, Aunt Anne, and, ofcourse, she knows a great deal more about bringing up children than youdo. If you had not interfered, Dick would have given the properreason, and, certainly, if we do what we shouldn't it's _our_ fault,not mother's."

  At this there were confirmatory nods from the children, who continuedto gaze in startled, but admiring, astonishment at Barbara, whosepoliteness was usually their example, and whom they hardly recognisedin this new role. They awaited--they knew not what--from their aunt,but except for a horrified cry of "Barbara!" from Mrs. Britton, thegirl's outburst was received in silence, her aunt merely shrugging hershoulders and continuing her breakfast. The children finished theirsin uncomfortable silence, then slipped quietly away.

  "Well!" Donald said ruefully, when Frances and he had climbed into theapple-tree where they usually discussed matters of importance. "Shedid look fine, didn't she? But I'm afraid she's done it now. Auntwill clear out soon enough, I should think, and Barbe will just be assorry as can be to have flared out like that at a guest, and father'ssister too."

  In that last supposition Donald was quite right, for Mrs. Brittonneeded to say nothing to make Barbara feel very much ashamed ofherself. But in his conclusion about his aunt he was quite wrong, for,to the children's astonishment, Miss Britton showed no signs of speedydeparture. Indeed, later in the day, the children felt honestydemanded they must own her to be "rather a brick," for she acceptedBarbara's apology with good grace, and said that though, of course, shehad been rude, she would not deny that there had been some provocation,and that if Barbara could find out anything more from Dick, she wouldbe glad to hear of it.

  It was then, after much manoeuvring, that the girl got to the truth ofthe matter, which Dick related with tears. He had taken the buttonsfor mother, he said. When he was out with her the other day they hadlooked for quite a long time at some beautiful silver ones, and when heasked his mother why she did not buy them, she had said she had notenough money just then. They were very like the kind on Aunt Anne'sblouse, and having noticed that she did not use half of them to buttonit up, Dick had not seen any reason why they should be lefton--although he had meant to tell her what he had done immediatelyafter breakfast.

  Miss Britton accepted the explanation, and said she thought there wasno need for the culprit to be punished this time, and she hoped hewould have more sense soon. But about Barbara she had something ofmore importance to communicate.

  "In my opinion," she said, in a manner that inferred she expected heradvice to be taken, "the girl is much too young to have finished hereducation--boys or no boys--and I am thinking of sending her to Francefor a time, to learn more of the language and see something of theworld. It is not good for a girl of her age to have so muchresponsibility."

  Now, it had been Barbara's dream to go abroad, but after the first gaspof delight and astonishment she grew grave, and said she was afraid shecould not leave her mother and the children.

  "Fiddlesticks!" Aunt Anne replied, without allowing Mrs. Britton timeto speak. "You are far too young, my dear, to imagine yourself of suchimportance in the world. I will send a good old-fashioned nurse that Iknow of to take your place, and it will be good for the children tohave a stricter regime than yours has been for a while."

  Even if Aunt Anne had been accustomed to have her wordsdisregarded--which she was not--Mrs. Britton would not have needed muchpersuasion to make her fall in with the proposal, for she had oftengrieved in private over the fact that, since her husband's death,Barbara's education had had to suffer that Donald's might advance. Andnow, though she wondered how she would get on without her eldestdaughter, she was only too thankful to have such an opportunity thrownin her way.

  "I cannot think why I never interfered before," Miss Britton said, "butit is better late than never, and we will have as little delay now aspossible."

  In a few days the children were all as busy as bees helping to getBarbara ready. They assisted in choosing her new frocks and hats, andthe style of making; and poor Miss Smith, who came to sew for her, wasnearly distracted by their popping in every now and then to see how shewas getting on. Even Donald, who hated talking about "girls'fashions," bought a paper, because he saw it had a pattern of a blouseadvertised, and he thought it might be useful.

  The family were very curious to hear with whom she was going to Franceand where she was going to be, for Aunt Anne had undertaken to make allthe arrangements, and it certainly was a slight shock to the childrenwhen she wrote to say she had made up her mind to go herself for afortnight to Paris before sending Barbara off to Brittany, where shehad found a "most suitable place" for her in the house of two maidenladies who took in people wanting to learn French.

  Donald whistled when Mrs. Britton read that out.

  "Fancy a fortnight with Aunt Anne, and then the two maiden ladies.Jiggers!" (that was a favourite expression of his)--"you'll be worriedout of your life, Barbe."

  The worst of it was, that Aunt Anne, who had not been abroad for manyyears, said she was going to let Barbara manage the journey and thesight-seeing in Paris, and sent her a guide-book to read up everythingof interest. She said she was doing this to give her niece experienceand prepare her for being by herself late
r on; but Donald declared shewanted to see "what kind of stuff" she was made of, and that if Barbaradid not do things well, she would scoff at her greatly for thinking shecould manage a house and children while she could not succeed infinding her way about France.

  "But I know the old lady, and we'll just show her you're _our_ sister,and before we've done you'll know that guide-book from cover to cover,"he assured her.

  They had only a week left, for Aunt Anne was very rapid in herdecisions and plans; but they studied the guide-book morning, noon, andnight. It was most instructive holiday work, Donald said, and whenBarbara had not time to read it, Frances and he read for her and pouredtheir knowledge into her ears at meal-times.

  They learned what coloured omnibus went to the different parts ofParis, and on what days different buildings were open, and by the endof the week they all felt they could "personally conduct" tours allover Paris.

  It was rather hard when the last day came, because they knew that thehouse would seem horribly empty without Barbara. The two little oneswere on the verge of crying all the afternoon, and Frances had to bevery stern, while Donald rose to flights of wit hitherto undreamed of,to keep up every one's spirits.

  Of course the two elder ones knew it would be hardest on them afterBarbara left, because some of her responsibility would fall on theirshoulders. But they were quite determined she should have a cheerful"send-off" next morning, so they bribed the children with promises ofsweets if they did not cry, and they succeeded in giving her quite ahilarious good-bye at the station.

  After the train had gone, however, and they turned homewards, Francesfelt that if she had not promised Barbara to help her mother she wouldhave hidden herself in the attic and cried, although that would havebeen so "horribly babyish" for a girl of twelve that she knew she wouldhave felt ashamed of herself afterwards; though perhaps, her pillowcould have told tales of a grief confided to it that the gay-heartedFrances did not usually indulge in.