The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 31

"Well, that's inconvenient!" Hannover grumbled, pulling the curtains back and looking outside. Sheets of rain were pouring down over the sand, the sea, and the town. Tim bounced to his master's side and stood on his tiptoes to look out.

"I knew it was gonna rain!" he laughed happily. "I just knew it! 'Cause the wind was a-blowin' somefing awful yesterday. An' I knew it was blowin' in a storm!"

"Do you know what this means?" Hannover asked in disappointment.

"I fink it means yer garden'll do right well 'cause the garden likes a drink o' water now an' then! But d'ya know what I 'eard? I 'eard tell the plants live on light. An' if they didn't 'ave it, they'd wither up an' blow away! Ain't that a nice thought, livin' on light?"

Hannover shook his head, still grumbling. "It means that if I send you to take the mail, you will probably be too late. And then all of my letters will be stalled!" he complained, ignoring his chattering errand boy. "Humph! Well, there is only one thing to do, much as it displeases me!" he went on. "I shall have to send someone in the carriage."

"But I could make it, sir! I'm sure I could!" Tim volunteered cheerfully.

"Oh, you could make it alright! You would make it about an hour too late with that headwind blowing right in your face. Not to mention, you would be drenched, and everyone would scowl at me for sending you out to catch your death!" Hannover let the curtains fall back into place and started gathering his mail into his hands. "There, take these down to that irresponsible loon named Rory and tell him to be off quick."

Timothy hastened to do his chore and soon returned to tell Hannover that Rory had set out on his mission. After that, the day grew slow and dull for the errand boy. His master had no use for him at the moment. And after begging all of the other servants for a job, he found that none of them needed him either.

At last, Tim went wandering aimlessly through the house. He crept up to the drawing room door where he could hear the repetitious noise of Gracie doing scales on the piano. She was all alone, glowing like something from a fairytale as she sat in the light of the big windows.

The girl had been sitting there for what felt like hours, running her fingers up and down the keys and wondering when she would ever master her lesson. For the last few days, everything had begun to feel very monotonous and joyless to her. Her aunt and uncle went traipsing off on all kinds of exciting adventures while she remained trapped indoors studying.

Mrs. Carlyle kept telling her that she was Arthur's responsibility now and that she was to rely on him instead of her. But Grace couldn't have plucked up the courage to approach her brother for anything. She was afraid to disturb him while he was reading. And when he went on his walks by the sea, she was too nervous to ask whether she could come.

Timothy gazed at his friend for a minute. It seemed like ages since he had seen her last. She was so busy with her lessons, and he was usually so busy downstairs, that they hardly found a minute to talk. He hadn't even been able to show her how well he was learning to read and write or to tell her how good a friend her brother was becoming to him. But now he had all the time he could want.

"Pst! Gracie," the little boy whispered. "Can ya come an' play?"

The girl's sapphire eyes looked back at him, glittering with a spark of new joy. Play? Oh, what a delightful word. A flush of color brightened her cheeks. For once, she hoped that perhaps she really could play because she was practically alone.

The Carlyles had left on an exciting boating ride on the ocean. Of course, they had meant for her and Arthur to go along—especially Arthur. But for some reason, the young doctor had politely declined their offer, and Mrs. Carlyle had quickly decided that Grace might as well stay behind too.