An Enchanted Garden: Fairy Stories, Page 2

small head cocked knowingly on oneside.

  "Rafe," exclaimed Alix eagerly, though in a low voice.

  "Alix," said Rafe in his turn.

  Then they looked at each other, thinking the same thoughts.

  "Rafe," whispered Alix, while the wren still stood there looking atthem, "just look at her; she's not a bird, she's a fairy--or at least ifshe's not a fairy she's got some message for us from one."

  The wren hopped on a few steps, still looking back at them. Thechildren slipped off the seat and moved softly after her withoutspeaking. On she went, hopping, then fluttering just a little way abovethe ground, then hopping again, till in this way she had led them rightacross the wide stretch of lawn to some shrubberies at the far side.Here a small footpath, scarcely visible till you were close to it, ledthrough the bushes to a strip of half-wild garden ground, used as a sortof nursery for young trees, which skirted a lane known by the name ofthe "Ladywood Path." And indeed it was little more than a pathnowadays, for few passed that way, though the story went that in the olddays it had been a good road leading to a house that was no longer inexistence.

  Over the low wall clambered the children, to find to their delight thatthe wren was in the lane before them, just a little way ahead. But nowshe took to flying higher and faster than she had yet done; to keep upwith her at all they had to run, and even with this they sometimes lostsight of her altogether for a minute or two. But they kept up bravely--they were too eager and excited to waste breath by speaking. The racelasted for some minutes, till at last, just as Alix was about to givein, Rafe suddenly twitched her arm.

  "Stop, Alix," he panted--truth to tell, the running was harder on himthan on his sister, for Rafe was of an easy-going disposition, and notgiven to violent exercise--"stop, Alix, she's lighted on the oldgateway."

  They both stood still and looked. Yes, there was Madam Wren on thetopmost bar of a dilapidated wooden gate, standing between two solidposts at what had once been the entrance to the beautiful garden of anancient house.

  How beautiful neither the children nor any one now living knew, for eventhe very oldest inhabitants of that part of the country could only dimlyremember having been told by their grandparents, or great-grandparentsperhaps, how once upon a time Ladywood Hall had been the pride of theneighbourhood.

  The wren flapped her wings, then rose upwards and flew off. This time,somehow, the children felt that it was no use trying to follow her.

  "She's gone for good," said Rafe dolefully; but Alix's eyes sparkled.

  "You _are_ stupid," she said. "Don't you see what she's told us. We'reto look for--for something, or some one, I don't quite know what, in theLady's garden." For so somehow the grounds of the vanished house hadcome to be spoken of. "I think it was very dull of us not to havethought of it for ourselves, for it is a very fairy sort of place."

  "If it is that way," said Rafe, "_they_ must have heard us talking, andsent the wren to tell us."

  "Of course," said Alix, "that's just what I mean. Perhaps the wren isone herself."

  "Shall we go on now?" said Rafe. "No"--for just at that moment theclear sound of a bell ringing reached them from the direction of theirown home--"for there's our dinner." And dinner was an important eventin Rafe's eyes, even when rivalled by a fairy hunt.

  "How provoking," said Alix. "_How_ quickly the morning has gone. Wemust go in now or they will come hunting us up and find out all aboutit; and you know, Rafe, if it has anything to do with fairies we mustkeep it a secret."

  Rafe nodded his head sagely.

  "Of course," he replied. "When do you think we had best come? Thisafternoon we are going a walk with nurse, and she'd never let us off."

  "No," said Alix, with a sigh, for a walk with nurse was not a veryinteresting affair. "But I'll tell you what, Rafe; if I can get hold ofmamma to-night, just even for a minute, I'll ask her if we mayn't takesomething for dinner out with us to-morrow, and not come in tilltea-time--the way we sometimes did last summer; for just now it's reallyas fine and warm as if it was June. I think she'll let us."

  "I do hope she will," said the boy.

  CHAPTER TWO.

  TAPPING.

  The children were not very fortunate in their nurse. Perhaps thishelped to make them feel lonely and dull sometimes, when there scarcelyseemed real reason for their being so. She was a good woman, and meantto be kind, and their mother trusted her completely. But she wasgetting old, and was rather tired of children. She had had such a lotto bring up--the four big brothers and sisters of Rafe and Alix, andbefore them a large family of their cousins. And I don't think she wasreally very fond of children, though she was devoted to tiny babies.She didn't in the least understand children's fancifulnesses or many oftheir little ways, and was far too fond of saying, "Stuff and nonsense,Master Rafe," or "Miss Alix," as the case might be.

  The walk this afternoon would not have been any livelier than usual, sofar as nurse was concerned, but the children were so brimful of theirnew ideas that they felt quite bright and happy, and after a while evennurse was won over to enter into their talk, or at least to answer theirquestions pretty cheerfully.

  For though of course they had not the least idea of telling her theirsecret, it was too much on their minds for them not to chatter roundabout it, so to say.

  "Have you ever seen a fairy, nurse?" said Alix; and, rather to hersurprise, nurse answered quite seriously:

  "No, my dear. Time was, I suppose, as such things were to be seen, butthat's past and gone. People have to work too hard nowadays to give anythought to fairies or fairyland."

  But on the whole this reply was rather encouraging.

  "You must have heard of fairies, though," said Rafe. "Can't youremember any stories about them?"

  Nurse had never been great at story-telling.

  "Oh dear no, Master Rafe," she replied; "I never knew any except theregular old ones, that you've got far prettier in your books than Icould tell them. _Sayings_ I may have heard, just countryside talk,when I was a child. My old granny, who lived and died in the villagehere, would have it that, for those that cared to look for them, therewere odd sights and sounds in the grounds of the old house down thelane. Beautiful singing _her_ mother had heard there when she was agirl; and once when a cow strayed in there for a night, they said whenshe came out again she was twice the cow she had been before, and thatno milk was ever as good as hers."

  The children looked at each other.

  "I wonder they didn't turn all the cows in there," said Rafepractically.

  "Why didn't they, nurse?"

  "Oh dear me, Master Rafe, that's more than I can tell. It was but anold tale. You can't expect much sense in such."

  "Whom did the old house belong to? Who lived there?" said Alix.

  "Nobody knows," said nurse. "It's too long ago to say. But there'salways been good luck about the place, that's certain. You've seen theflowers there in the summer time. Some of them look as beautiful as ifthey were in a proper garden; and it's certain sure there's no wood nearhere like it for the nightingales."

  This was very satisfactory so far as it went, but nurse would say nomore, doubtless because she had nothing more to say.

  "I do believe, Rafe," said Alix, when they were sitting together aftertea, "that the old garden is a sort of entrance to fairyland, and thatit's been waiting for us to find it out."

  Her eyes were shining with eagerness, and Rafe, too, felt very excited.

  "I do hope mamma will let us have all to-morrow to ourselves," he said."You see, one has to be very careful with fairies, Alix--all the storiesagree about that. We must go to work very cautiously, so as not tooffend them in any way."

  "You're always cautious," said Alix, with a little contempt; "rather toocautious for me. Of course we shall be very _polite_, and take care notto spoil any of the plants, but we'll have to be a little venturesometoo. And," she went on, "you may count that they've invited us. Thewren brought a regular message. I only hope they're not offended
withus for not going to-day."

  "If they're good kind of fairies," said Rafe sagely--"and I thinkthey're sure to be--they wouldn't have liked us to be disobedient; andyou know mamma's awfully particular about our coming in the moment wehear the bell ring."

  "Yes," said Alix; "that's true."

  Mamma's heart was extra soft that evening, I think. She had seen solittle of the children lately that she was feeling rather sorry forthem, and all the more ready to agree to any wish