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CHAP.
TIMID LUCY.
THE LITTLE BED-ROOM.
Dr. Vale had the prettiest house in all Chatford. It was a tasteful, white cottage, with a green lawn in front, and tall elm trees about it. The side windows looked out upon a pleasant orchard, where the smooth, ripe apples peeped temptingly from their beds of fresh leaves. At one of these windows there was a neat curtain, that was looped back one summer evening, while through the open casement there floated the perfume of the rose bush that had climbed the cottage wall, until its buds could look in at the upper window. A pretty sight there was within! the moonlight streamed on the floor, and lit up as sweet a little bed-room as any fairy could desire. The small counterpane and bureau-cover were white as snow, on the tiny work-table there was a vase of fresh flowers, and the miniature book-case was filled with an interesting collection of nicely-bound volumes. There was nothing wanting to give the apartment an air of perfect taste and comfort.
Did the young owner enjoy that pleasant room? Young she must have been, for everything, even to the low rocking-chair, was evidently prepared for the use of some favoured child.
Presently the door opened, but no one entered. Lucy Vale, the doctor's youngest daughter, stood timidly without. Surely there was nothing frightful in that quiet room? yet she did not venture in until the light was so steady that she could see plainly into its farthest corners. As soon, as she had locked the door behind her, she looked into the closet, behind the curtain, under the bed, and even under the bureau, where nothing thicker than a turtle could possibly have hidden itself.
There had not been a robbery in the peaceful village of Chatford in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, so there was no danger of Lucy's disturbing any villain in his hiding-place. If she had chanced to find the thief she seemed so earnestly seeking, she would have been in a most unfortunate position, as her bed-room door was locked, and, without any weapon, her feeble arm would have been but poor protection.
Children who never go to sleep without hunting for robbers, seldom think what they would do if they should at last succeed in finding one, nicely stowed away in a closet. Few thieves are so hardened as to injure a sleeping child, while the most cowardly might be led to strike a blow on being suddenly discovered, and placed in danger of punishment. After all, even if there were thieves in a house, the safest course for a child would be to go quietly to sleep, and leave the evil men to steal and depart.
Lucy Vale did not seem quite satisfied with her first search; again she furtively glanced about, before she sat down to read the chapter in the Bible, which she had been taught never to omit at night. Lucy read her Bible as a duty, not because she loved it, or wished to learn the will of God, and now she could not fix her attention at all upon its sacred pages.
On this particular evening her prayers were soon over, and she was quickly in bed, leaving the lamp burning; its light however was of but little use to her, as she thrust her head under the covering, hardly leaving space enough to breathe through.
If Mrs. Maxwell, the housekeeper, had known that Lucy kept her light burning at night, she would have scolded her severely, for she often said, "it was flying in the face of nature to try to make night like day, and for her part she thought it downright wicked to be wasting oil when everybody was asleep, to say nothing of the danger of fire."
Dr. Vale had lost his wife when Lucy was just six years old, and since that time Mrs. Maxwell had been his housekeeper; he trusted everything to her, and she seemed to take the greatest delight in being economical, that none of her master's substance might be wasted. She was not bad-tempered, but she had a stern, harsh manner, and was easily worried by children, only thinking them good when they were silent and stirred neither hand nor foot. Lucy seldom came near her without being blamed for something, or told to sit down and be quiet.
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