"But this is dreadful!" said Miss Delicia. "What have you done; have you told my sister yet?"
"No, I wanted to consult you before I spoke to anyone else on the matter."
Bridget got up slowly and softly, and moved away down the shady path; the two ladies did not see her as she went. She soon found herself standing on the open lawn in front of the house. The great marquee was being put up there; several workmen were busy, and little girls were fluttering about like gay, happy butterflies. Alice, Violet, and two or three more ran up to her when they saw her. "We are making wreaths of evergreens; won't you help us, Bridget?" they exclaimed.
"No," she said; "I have a headache—don't worry me." She turned abruptly away and walked down the avenue.
She had no longer any wish to break the rules, but she thought she would wait about near the entrance gates, in order to catch Janet on her way back from Eastcliff.
The girls were all busy round the marquee, and Bridget had this part of the avenue to herself; she went and stood near an ivy-covered wall; leaned her elbows against the trunk of a tree, and waited; a motionless, but pretty figure, her gay ribbons streaming about her, her hat pushed back from herforehead, her puzzled, troubled eyes looking on the ground.
Bridget knew that Janet would be back within an hour. It mattered very little to her how long she had to wait; she felt too stunned and sore to be troubled by any keen sense of impatience.
As soon as Janet found herself alone in the pony trap, she took a letter out of her pocket, opened it, and read its contents with eagerness. These were the words on which her eyes fell:
My Dear, Good Little Janey:I am afraid I cannot take your advice; I cannot exercise the virtue of patience another day. Mine has run its course, my dear, and the whole stock is exhausted. I have resolved to leave my situation on Saturday. I have given Miss Simpkins notice—she does not believe me, of course, but she'll know who's right when Saturday comes, and she has no one to hector and bully and make life a misery to. I wonder where you are going to spend your holidays. Don't go to Aunt Jane's, I beg of you; I know she has sent you an invitation, but don't accept it. Now, couldn't you and I go off for a little jaunt together to Margate, and have some fun? And look here, dear,willyou send me two pounds by return of post? I absolutely must have the money, for Miss Simpkins paid me in full a week ago, and I shan't have a penny when I leave, as of course, the little I get from her—she is the stingiest old wretch in existence!—naturally goes to keep your humble servant in dress, stamps, paper, etc., etc. Lend me two pounds, like a darling. I'll pay it back when I can. I do not want to go to Aunt Jane's, and I will have to do it if you cannot oblige me, Janey; but if you can I will go to Margate and take a bedroom there, which you can share, my love, and we'll have some fun, if it's only for a couple of days.Your loving sister,Sophia.
My Dear, Good Little Janey:
I am afraid I cannot take your advice; I cannot exercise the virtue of patience another day. Mine has run its course, my dear, and the whole stock is exhausted. I have resolved to leave my situation on Saturday. I have given Miss Simpkins notice—she does not believe me, of course, but she'll know who's right when Saturday comes, and she has no one to hector and bully and make life a misery to. I wonder where you are going to spend your holidays. Don't go to Aunt Jane's, I beg of you; I know she has sent you an invitation, but don't accept it. Now, couldn't you and I go off for a little jaunt together to Margate, and have some fun? And look here, dear,willyou send me two pounds by return of post? I absolutely must have the money, for Miss Simpkins paid me in full a week ago, and I shan't have a penny when I leave, as of course, the little I get from her—she is the stingiest old wretch in existence!—naturally goes to keep your humble servant in dress, stamps, paper, etc., etc. Lend me two pounds, like a darling. I'll pay it back when I can. I do not want to go to Aunt Jane's, and I will have to do it if you cannot oblige me, Janey; but if you can I will go to Margate and take a bedroom there, which you can share, my love, and we'll have some fun, if it's only for a couple of days.
Your loving sister,
Sophia.
"Poor Sophy," exclaimed Janet. She folded up the letter and placed it in her pocket. "I wonder where she thinks I'm going to get two pounds from?" she muttered. "I am as hard up as a girl can be. Sophy might have stayed with Miss Simpkins, but she's a sort of bad penny; always returning on one's hands when one least expects her. Well, I don't see how I'm going to help her. It would be very nice to go to Margate with her, but what would Mrs. Freeman say? No, I think I know a better plan than that. I am not going to Aunt Jane's for the holidays; I am going to have a good time, but it won't be at Margate. Suppose Sophy came, too? she's very pretty, and very clever, and I think Lady Kathleen would like her awfully. I must think over this. Oh, here we are at Eastcliff. Now, my dear little Biddy, the first thing to be done is post your letter, but if you think I am going to get that postal order, and place it in it, you are vastly mistaken. I do not at all know that I shall send the two sovereigns to Sophy, but it is convenient to have them at hand in case of need."
Janet was always very cool and methodical in her movements. She never, as the phrase goes, "lost her head." She could also make up her mind clearly and decidedly. Having done so, she now proceeded to act. She slipped her sister's most troublesome letter into her pocket, and driving to the pastry cook's, ordered the creams, jellies, and other refreshments necessary for the next day's entertainment. She then went to the post office and wrote a few lines.
My Dear Sophy[she wrote]: How am I to get two pounds? You must be mad to think that I can send you so large a sum of money. If Aunt Jane pays for my schooling, she takes very goodcare to stint my pocket money. You had better be wise and go straight to her when you leave Miss Simpkins. Imayhave a nice plan to propose in a day or two, but am not sure. You may be certain I'll do my best for you, only do be patient.Your affectionate sister,Janet May.
My Dear Sophy[she wrote]: How am I to get two pounds? You must be mad to think that I can send you so large a sum of money. If Aunt Jane pays for my schooling, she takes very goodcare to stint my pocket money. You had better be wise and go straight to her when you leave Miss Simpkins. Imayhave a nice plan to propose in a day or two, but am not sure. You may be certain I'll do my best for you, only do be patient.
Your affectionate sister,Janet May.
This letter was sealed and directed, and in company with Bridget's found its way into one of Her Majesty's mail bags; then Janet stepped once again into the pony carriage, and desired the coachman to drive her back to Mulberry Court.
The two sovereigns were snugly placed in her purse. She had not yet quite made up her mind to steal them, but she liked even the temporary sense of wealth and possession that they gave her.
The wickedness of her own act did not trouble her hardened conscience; she sat lazily back in the snug little carriage, and enjoyed the pleasant feel of the summer breeze against her forehead. A passing sense of annoyance swept over her as she thought of Sophy. Sophy was nineteen; a very pretty, empty-headed girl. She had not half Janet's abilities. She was really affectionate, but weak, and most easily led. Janet was three years younger than her sister, but in force of character she was several years her senior. The two girls were orphans. They had lived a scrambling sort of life; tossed about when they were little children, from one uncomfortable home to another. Finally, at the ages of fourteen and eleven, they found themselves with a very strict and puritanical old aunt. Her influence was bad for both of them, particularly for Janet. Old Aunt Jane was a very good and excellent woman, but she did not understand the two badly trained and badlydisciplined girls. She was by no means rich, but she struggled to educate them. Sophy was not clever enough to undertake the somewhat arduous duties required from governesses in the present day, but Miss Laughton took great pains to get her a post as companion. Janet had plenty of abilities, and she was sent to Mulberry Court to be trained as a teacher.
The girls were fond of each other. Perhaps the only person in the wide world whom Janet really loved was this frivolous and thoughtless sister. She ruled Sophy, and, when with her, made her do exactly what she wished; but still, after a fashion, she felt a very genuine affection for her.
"Sophy might have stayed at Miss Simpkins's," muttered Janet, as she drove back to the Court; "but as she has given notice, there's no help for it. I must get Lady Kathleen to invite her to Ireland when I go. I'm determined to manage that little affair for myself, and Sophy may as well join in the fun."
The carriage turned in at the white gates of Mulberry Court, and Bridget sprang forward to meet it.
"Get out, Janet!" she said, in an imperious, excited voice; "get out at once; I have something to say to you."
"Stop, Jones," called Janet to the driver. "If you want to speak to me, Bridget, you had better jump into the carriage, for I mean to go back to the house; I want to speak to Mrs. Freeman."
"You won't do anything of the kind," said Bridget; "you have got to speak to me first; if you don't, I'll go straight to Miss Delicia and Miss Dent and tell them everything. I know now about Pearson's extracts, andI'll tell about them; yes, I will; I won't live under this disgrace! You had better jump out at once, and let me speak to you, or I'll tell."
Bridget's eyes were flashing with anger, and her cheeks blazing with excitement.
In this mood she was not to be trifled with.
Janet could not comprehend all her wild words, but she guessed enough to feel an instant sense of alarm. There was danger ahead, and danger always rendered Janet May cool and collected.
"My dear child," she exclaimed, "why do you speak in such a loud, excited voice? Of course, I'll go and talk to you if you really want me. Jones, please take this basket carefully to the house, and if you see Mrs. Freeman tell her that I shall be with her in a few minutes, and that everything is arranged quite satisfactorily for to-morrow. Don't forget my message, Jones."
"No, miss; I'll be careful to remember." The man touched his hat. Janet alighted from the pony trap, and, taking Bridget's hand, walked up the avenue with her.
"Now, you dear little Quicksilver," she exclaimed, "what is the matter? I posted your letter, my love, so that weight is off your mind."
"Thank you, Janet," exclaimed poor Bridget; "you did not forget to put the postal order in, did you?" Janet raised her delicate brows in well-acted astonishment.
"Is that likely?" she exclaimed. "But now, why this excitement? Have you heard fresh news of that valuable Pat, and that delightful Norah?"
"Janet, you are not to talk of the people I love inthat tone; I won't have it! I quite hate you when you go on like this. I'm not mean, but I know what you are wanting, and I shall speak to Aunt Kathleen and ask her not to invite you to Ireland if you go on in this way. Aunt Kathleen likes you because she does not know you, but I can soon open her eyes."
Janet put on a mock tone of alarm.
"You must not crush me, my dear," she exclaimed; "itwouldbe a trial not to go to the Castle. There, there, I don't want really to tease you, my love. Now, what is the matter? Why have you been making those extraordinary remarks about Pearson? WhoisPearson?"
"You know better than I do, Janet. I'll tell you what has happened. You copied a lot of themes, and gave them to me as if they were your own to put into my exercise book. It was very, very wrong of me to let you help me at all, but, of course, I thought that you had done so without referring to books."
"My dear little saint! I don't see what difference that makes!"
"I don't suppose it makes any difference in the wickedness," retorted Bridget; "but it certainly does in the chance of being found out. I overheard Miss Dent and Miss Delicia talking in one of the summerhouses; Miss Dent has discovered that my essays were copied from Pearson's extracts, and she's awfully angry, and Miss Delicia is horrified. I won't live under it! no, I won't! I was awfully wicked ever to allow it, but I'd much, much rather confess everything now. I am an idle, scapegrace sort of a girl; but I can't think how I ever submitted to your making me dishonorable. I'mhorribly dishonorable, and I could die of the shame of it! I'll go straight this very minute to Mrs. Freeman, and tell her to punish me as much as ever she likes. The only thing I shall beg of her is not to tell father, for this is a sort of thing that would break my father's heart. You must come with me, of course, Janet; you must come at once and explain your share in the matter. That's what I waited for you here for. It is most important that everything should be told without a minute's delay."
Bridget's words were poured out with such intense passion and anguish that Janet was impressed in spite of herself. She was not only impressed; she was frightened. It took a great deal to arouse the sense of alarm in her calm breast, but she did realize now that she had got herself and the young Irish girl into a considerable scrape, and that, if she did not wish to have all her own projects destroyed, it behooved her to be extremely wary.
"Let us go down and walk by the sea, Biddy," she said. "Oh, yes, there's plenty of time; meals will be quite irregular to-day. Why, how you tremble, you poor little creature!"
"I'm not little," said Bridget; "I'm big, and I'm desperate. The time has gone by for you to come round me with soft words, Janet. Why am I to go and walk with you by the sea? The thing to be done is for us both to find Mrs. Freeman, and tell her, without mincing words, how wicked we are."
"Have you really made up your mind to do this?" said Janet.
She turned and faced her companion. The color had left her cheeks, her lips trembled, her eyes were dilated.
"Do you positively mean to do this cruel thing?" she repeated.
"Cruel?" said Bridget, stamping her foot; "it's the only bit of justice left; it's the one last chance of our ever retrieving our position. Oh, do come with me at once; there's just time for us to see Mrs. Freeman before tea."
"You can go, Bridget," said Janet. "If you are determined to go I cannot prevent you. You can make all this terrible mischief if you like; but you must do it alone, for I shall not be with you. The effect of your confession will be this: you will suffer some sort of punishment, and by and by you will be forgiven; and by and by, too, you will forget what you now consider such an awful tragedy; but what you are now doing will ruin me for all my life. I am only sixteen—but no matter. However long I live I shall never be able to get over this step that you are taking. If you go—as you say you will—to Mrs. Freeman, there is only one thing for me to do, and that is to run away from school. I won't remain here to be expelled; for expelled I shall be if you tell what you say you will of me. They'll make out that I am worse than you, and they'll expel me. You don't know the effect that such a disgrace will have on my future. I am not rich like you; I have no father to break his heart about me. The only relations I have left in the world are an old aunt, who is very stingy and very hard-hearted, and who would never forgive me if I did the smallest thing to incur her displeasure; and one sister, who is three years older than myself, and who is very pretty and very silly, and who has written to me to say she has lost her situation as companion. If you do what you are going to do,Bridget, I shall walk back to Eastcliff, and take the next train to Bristol, where Aunt Jane lives. You will ruin me, of course; but I don't suppose that fact will influence your decision. I did what I did for you out of a spirit of pure kindliness; but that, too, will be forgotten, now that your conscience has awakened. I am just waiting for you to choose what you will really do, Bridget, before I run away."
When Janet finished speaking she moved a few steps from her companion. She saw that her words had taken effect, for Biddy's determined expression had changed to one of indecision and fresh misery; her troubled eyes sought the ground, her red lips trembled.
"I see you have made up your mind," said Janet. (She saw quite the reverse, but she thought these words a politic stroke.) "I see you have quite made up your mind," she continued; "so there is nothing for me to do but to go. Good-by! I only wish I had never been so unlucky as to know you."
Janet turned on her heel, and began to walk down the avenue.
"You know you can't go like this," Bridget called after her. "Stop! Listen to me! You know perfectly well that, bad as you are, I don't want to ruin you. I'll go by myself, then, and say nothing about you. Will that content you?"
"I see you are going to be reasonable," said Janet, returning, and taking her companion's arm. "Now we can talk the matter out. Come down this shady walk, where no one will see us. Of course, the whole thing is most disagreeable and unpleasant, but surely two wise heads like ours can see a way even out of this difficulty."
"But there is no way, Janet, except by just confessing that we have behaved very badly. Come along, and let us do it at once. I don't believe you'll get into the awful scrape you make out. I won't let you! I'll take your part, and be your friend. You shall come to Ireland with Aunt Kathleen and me, and father will be ever so kind to you, and perhaps—I'm not sure—butperhapsI'll be able to give you one of the dogs."
"Thanks!" said Janet, slightly turning her head away; "but even the hope of ultimately possessing one of those valuable quadrupeds cannot lighten the gloom of my present position. There is no help for it, Biddy, we must stick to one another, and resolve, whatever happens,notto tell."
"But they know already," said Bridget. "Miss Delicia and Miss Dent know already! Did I not tell you that I overheard them talking about it?"
"Yes, my dear, you did. It is really most perplexing. You must let me think for a moment what is best to be done."
Janet stood still in the center of the path; Bridget looked at her anxiously.
"What a fool I was," she murmured under her breath, "to use that extract book. It was just my laziness; and how could I suppose that that stupid Miss Dent would go and pry into it? It will be a mercy if she does not discover where some of my own happy ideas have come from. If I trusted to my own brains I could have concocted something quite good enough to raise poor little Biddy in her class. Discovery would then have been impossible. Oh, what a sin laziness is!"
"What are we to do?" said Bridget, lookinganxiously at her companion. "We have very little time to make up our minds in, for probably before now Miss Dent and Miss Delicia have told Mrs. Freeman. I do want, at least, to have the small merit of having told my own sin before it has been announced by another. There's no way out of it, Janet. Come and let us tell at once!"
"How aggravating you are!" replied Janet. "There is a way out of it. You must give me until after tea to think what is best to be done. Ah! there's the gong! Wecan'ttell now until after tea, even if we wished to. Come along, Bridget, let us return to the house. I'll meet you in the South Walk at seven o'clock, and then I shall have something tangible to propose."
Bridget was obliged very unwillingly to consent to this delay. Hers was a nature always prone to extremes. She thought badly of her conduct in allowing Janet to help her with her lessons ever since the moment little Violet had given back the waxen doll, but even then she did not know the half of the sin which she and another had committed. It only needed Miss Dent and Miss Delicia to open her eyes. A sick sense of abasement was over her. Her proud spirit felt humbled to the very dust. She was so low about herself that she looked forward to confession with almost relief.
Janet's nature, however, was a great deal firmer and more resolute than Bridget's. There was no help for it: the Irish girl was bound to comply with her decision. The two walked slowly up to the house, where they parted, Janet running up to her room to take off her hat, wash her hands, and smooth her hair, and Biddy, tossing her shady hat off in the hall, and enteringthe tea room looking messed and untidy. On another day she would have been reprimanded for this, but the excitement which preceded the grand break-up prevented anyone noticing her. She sank down in the first vacant seat, and listlessly stirred the tea which she felt unable to drink.
Janet's conduct in this emergency differed in all respects from Bridget's. No girl could look fresher, sweeter, or more composed than she when, a moment or two later, she entered the long room. Mrs. Freeman was pouring out tea at the head of the table. Janet went straight up to her, and entered into a lucid explanation of what she had done at Eastcliff, and the purchases she had made.
"Very nice, my dear! Yes, quite satisfactory. Ah! very thoughtful of you, Janet. Sit down now, dear, and take your tea."
Janet found a place near Dolly. She ate heartily, and was sufficiently roused out of herself to be almost merry.
When the girls were leaving the tea room, Janet lingered a little behind the others. Her eyes anxiously followed Miss Delicia, who, with a flushed face and dubious, uncertain manner, was watching her elder sister, Mrs. Freeman. Miss Dent had not appeared at all at tea, which Janet regarded as a very bad sign, but she also felt sure, by the head mistress's calm expression, that the news of Bridget's delinquencies had not been revealed to her. Janet saw, however, by Miss Delicia's manner that this would not long be the case. Janet had thought the matter over carefully, and had made up her mind to a determined and bold stroke.
Miss Delicia, who had, as usual, been hopping aboutduring the meal, attending to everyone's comforts, and quite forgetting her own, was now seen by Janet to walk up by the side of the long table, evidently with the intention of waylaying Mrs. Freeman as she left the room.
With a sudden movement Janet frustrated her intentions. Mrs. Freeman passed out through the upper door of the tea room, and Miss Delicia found herself coming plump up against Janet May.
"Oh, I want to speak to you!" said Janet.
"Pardon me," said Miss Delicia, "I will attend to you in a moment; but, first of all, I wish to say a word to my sister; she will shut herself up in her own room, for she is going to be very busy over accounts, if I don't immediately secure her. I'll be back with you in a moment, Janet, after I have spoken to Mrs. Freeman."
"Please forgive me," said Janet, "but what I have to say is of very great importance. Perhaps you won't want to speak to Mrs. Freeman after you have talked to me."
"Now, my dear, what do you mean?"
Miss Delicia raised her kind, but somewhat nervous eyes. She was a little round body, nearly a head shorter than tall Janet May.
"I want to speak to you by yourself," said Janet; "it is of great importance—the very greatest. Please talk to me before you say anything to Mrs. Freeman."
"Come to my private room," said Miss Delicia, taking Janet's hand in her own. "Come quickly before Patience sees us. Miss Patience is very curious; she will wonder what is up. Ah, here we are with the door shut; that is a comfort. Now, my dear, begin. Your manner quite frightens me."
"I have something most important to say. I am very glad—very, very glad—that it is to you, Miss Delicia, that I have got to say this thing. Your kindness is—is well known. Each girl in the school is well aware of the fact that you would not willingly hurt anyone."
"My dear, none of us would do that, I hope." Miss Delicia drew her little figure up. "We are Pickerings; my sister, Mrs. Freeman, is a Pickering by birth; and the Pickerings have been in the scholastic line from time immemorial. Those who guide the young ought always to be tolerant, always kind, always forbearing."
"Yes, yes," interrupted Janet, "I know that, of course, but some people are more forbearing than others. Mrs. Freeman, Miss Patience, and you are loved and respected by us all; but you are loved the most, for you are the kindest."
Miss Delicia's little face flushed all over.
"I am gratified, of course," she said, "butifthis is the general feeling, I shall be most careful to keep the knowledge from my sisters Henrietta and Patience. Now, Janet, what is it you want to say to me?"
"I want to speak to you about Bridget O'Hara."
Miss Delicia felt the color receding from her cheeks.
"Oh!" she exclaimed; "what about her? I may as well say at once that I am not happy with regard to that young girl."
"I know," said Janet, "I—I know more than you think; that is what I want to speak about. Biddy has told me; poor Biddy, poor, poor misguided Biddy."
"Bridget O'Hara has told you? Told you what, Janet? It is your duty to speak; what has she told you?
"The truth, poor girl," said Janet, shaking her headmournfully. "I'll tell you everything, Miss Delicia. Biddy, through an accident, overheard you and Miss Dent speak about her this afternoon."
"Then she's an eavesdropper as well as everything else," said Miss Delicia. "Oh, this is too bad. I did not suppose that such an absolutely unprincipled, wicked girl ever existed; with her beautiful face too, and her kind, charming, open manners. Oh, she's a wolf in sheep's clothing, she will be the undoing of the entire school. It is very difficult, Janet, to rouse my anger, but when it is aroused I—I—well, I feel thingsextremely, my dear. I must go to Mrs. Freeman at once; don't keep me, I beg."
Janet placed herself between Miss Delicia and the door.
"I must keep you," she said. "You are not often angry, Miss Delicia; I want you on this occasion to be very forbearing, and to restrain your indignation until you have at least listened to me. Biddy did not mean to eavesdrop."
"Oh, don't talk to me, my dear!"
"I must, I will talk to you. Please, please let me say my say. Biddy behaved badly, disgracefully, but she did not mean to listen. She was in trouble, poor girl, about a friend of hers, a servant who was ill in Ireland. She was sitting in the shrubbery thinking about it all when you and Miss Dent came and sat in the summerhouse near by. You spoke her name, and said some very plain truths about her. She forgot all about going away and everything else in the intense interest with which she followed your words. She rushed away at last, and waited near the gates in the avenue to unburden herself to me. Whatever you may have said toMiss Dent, Miss Delicia, the effect on Bridget was really heartrending; she told me that you had opened her eyes, that she saw at last the disgrace of her own conduct. I never could have believed that the poor girl could get into such a state of mind; I really felt quite anxious about her. I don't think my sympathies were ever more thoroughly aroused, and you know that I am not easily carried away by my feelings."
"That is certainly the character you have received in the school, Janet May."
"It is true," repeated Janet, in her steady voice; "I am not demonstrative. Therefore, when I am roused to pity, the case which arouses me must be supposed to be extreme. Poor Biddy is in the most terrible anguish."
"Did she tell you, did she dare to tell you, that she copied her extracts from Pearson?"
"She did, she told me everything. She says she is quite sure that Mrs. Freeman will expel her, and that, if so, her father will die of grief."
"Oh, she has deputed you, then, to plead for her?"
"She has not; it has never occurred to her that anyone should plead for her. She does not feel even a vestige of hope in the matter; but I do plead for her, Miss Delicia. I ask you to have mercy upon her."
"Mercy," said Miss Delicia, "mercy! Is this sort of thing to go on in a respectable high-class school? We are not going to be heartlessly cruel to any girl, of course, but my sisters Henrietta and Patience must decide what is really to be done."
"I have come to you with a bold request," said Janet. "I will state it at once frankly. I want younot to consult your sisters about Bridget until—until after the festival to-morrow."
"I can't grant your request, my dear."
"But please consider. I am taking great and personal interest in Bridget; you know that I am very steady."
"You are, Janet; you are one of the best girls in the school."
"Thank you," said Janet, "I try to do my duty; I take a great interest in Bridget, and I have an influence over her. You know how badly she has been brought up; you know how reckless she is, how untaught, how affectionate and generous she can be, and yet also how desperate and defiant. There are only two people in the world whom she greatly loves; her old father is one; oh, she has told me lovely, pathetic stories about her gray-headed old father; and her aunt, Lady Kathleen Peterham, is the other. To-morrow is to be a great day in the school, and if Bridget is to be in disgrace and publicly held up to opprobrium, you can imagine what Lady Kathleen's feelings will be—what Bridget's own feelings will be. What will be the effect? Bridget will be taken away from school and in all probability never educated at all."
"But, my dear—you are a remarkably wise girl, Janet—my dear, the fact of my sisters knowing the truth about Bridget O'Hara need not be followed by public and open disgrace. We three must consult over the matter and decide what are the best steps to take."
"Forgive me," said Janet, "you know—you must know what Mrs. Freeman's and Miss Patience's sentiments will be. If you, who are so gentle and charitable, feel intense anger, what will their anger be? Reflect, Miss Delicia, you must reflect on the plain factthat they will feel it their duty publicly to disgrace Bridget."
"For the sake of example," murmured Miss Delicia.
"Precisely," said Janet, "for the sake of example; and Biddy's character will be ruined forever. Lady Kathleen will take her from school, and all chance of making her what she may become, a brave and noble woman, will be at an end."
"If I thought that——" said Miss Delicia.
"It is true. I assure you, it is true!"
"What do you want me to do then, Janet?"
"Simply to keep your knowledge to yourself for twenty-four hours."
"I am much puzzled," murmured Miss Delicia. "You're a queer girl, Janet May, but I will own there is wisdom in your words."
"How sweet you are, Miss Delicia! You will never, never repent of this forbearance."
"But there is Miss Dent to be thought of, my love. She is most unhappy about the whole thing."
"You will talk to her," said Janet; "you will talk to her as if from yourself; you will, of course, not mention me, for who am I? nothing but a schoolgirl. You will tell Miss Dent that you have thought it wisest to defer saying anything to Mrs. Freeman until the anxieties of to-morrow are over. Oh, it does seem only right and natural; I am so deeply obliged to you. May I kiss you? This lesson in Christian forbearance will, I assure you, not be thrown away on me, and will, doubtless, be the saving of poor, poor Biddy."
Janet ran out of the room; Miss Delicia pressed her hand in a confused way to her forehead.
"Have I really promised not to tell?" she murmured;"I suppose so, although I don't remember saying the words. What a queer, clever girl that is, and yet, at the same time, how really kind. It is noble of her to plead like that for Bridget! Well, after all, twenty-four hours can't greatly signify, and the delay will certainly insure Henrietta and Patience a peaceful time. Now, I must go and talk to poor, dear Sarah Dent."
"And now, my dears," said Mrs. Freeman, addressing her assembled school, "we have come to the end of our school term; the prizes have been distributed; the examinations are over. To those girls who have succeeded in winning prizes, and who have, in consequence, been raised to higher classes in the school, I offer my most hearty congratulations; they have worked well and steadily, and they now reap their due rewards. You, my dears"—the head mistress waved her hand in the direction of the successful girls who were each of them pinning a white satin badge into their dresses, and were standing together in a little group—"you, my dears, will wear the badge of honor all through the remainder of this day; may honor dwell in your hearts, and may success attend you through life; that success, my dear girls, which comes from earnest living, from constant endeavor to pursue the right, from constant determination to forsake the wrong. You have been successful in this day's examinations; you have every reason to be pleased with your success; but, at the same time, it must not render you self-confident. In short, my dear girls, you must ask for strength other than your own to carry you safely though the waves of this troublesome world. I now want to say a word or two to those girls who havenot to-day earned prizes. I want you, my dear children, not to go away with any undue sense of discouragement. If, through carelessness or inattention, you have not got the prize you coveted, you must try very hard to be careful and attentive next term; you must also, however, remember that every girl cannot win a prize, but that patience and constant endeavor will secure to each of you the best rewards in due time. On the whole, the term's work has been satisfactory, and the progress made in every branch of study gratifying. I now declare the school closed as far as lessons are concerned. Some of you will go away to your own homes to-night; some to-morrow morning. We shall all meet again, I hope, in September; and now there is a very happy time before us. To the courage and the thoughtfulness of a young girl in this school whom you all know—I allude to Janet May—we are going to have a Fancy Fair for the benefit of a child who has none of the advantages which you one and all possess. Evelyn Percival, as the head girl of the school, and as my special friend and right hand, will hold the first stall at the Fancy Fair; this, of course, is her due—but, that every justice should be done, I wish you all, girls, now to acknowledge that the first thought of the fair was due to Janet. Shall we cheer her?"
A chorus of applause followed the head mistress's speech. Janet, in her white dress with green ribbons, the glistening satin badge of a prize-winner pinned on her breast, stood pale and slender, a little in advance of the other girls who had also won prizes. A brief gleam of triumph filled her dark, steel-blue eyes; she glanced at Evelyn, who, next to her, occupied the most conspicuous position; her breath came fast; her lipstrembled. The burst of applause was delicious to her.
The girls were all clapping and stamping vigorously. Their "hip, hip, hurrrah!" echoed through the large hall where the examinations had just been held.
Raising her eyes suddenly, Janet perceived that Bridget O'Hara stood motionless. She was in front of a group of smaller girls; her lips were shut; neither hands nor feet responded to the volume of applause which was echoing on all sides for Janet May.
"Now we'll cheer our head girl," said Mrs. Freeman. "We are thankful for her restoration to health, and we wish her long to remain an inmate of Mulberry Court. Now, girls, with all your might, three cheers for Evelyn Percival, the school favorite!"
The burst of applause was deafening; the old roof rang with the exultant young voices. Evelyn, in her turn, proposed some cheers for the head mistress and the other teachers, after which the school broke up.
"Why didn't you cheer Janet May, Biddy?" asked Violet, when the girls were streaming out of the hall. "I noticed that you didn't say a word, and that you neither clapped your hands nor stamped your feet. I was surprised, for I thought you were so fond of her."
"I'm not fond of her at all," said Bridget. "Don't bother me, Vi; I must run down now to the marquee to see about my stall."
Violet's little face looked mystified. She turned to say something to her chum Alice, and Bridget ran down the lawn to the marquee.
The school was broken up by twelve o'clock, but the Fancy Fair was not to be opened until three.
Evelyn Percival's stall had been fully dressed thenight before. It looked very lovely and inviting, and although Janet's and Bridget's stall also looked pretty, the stall of the head girl took the shine out of all the others.
When Bridget found herself standing by the marquee she looked around, to find no one present but Janet.
"I suppose you are satisfied now?" she said, giving Miss May a slightly contemptuous glance. "You had your desire; you were publicly honored and clapped by the whole school."
"Well, my dear love," retorted Janet, who was most anxious to be friendly with Bridget, "don't be vicious about it. I noticed that you didn't clap me, nor cheer me. Why was that,chérie? Your conduct didn't look at all amiable."
"I was to clap you for being good and honorable. As I happen to know you are not at all good, and most frightfully dishonorable, it was impossible for me to join in the applause."
"Oh, now, my dear Bridget, if you are going to preach!"
"I to preach? Certainly not! I need someone to preachmesermons. When are we to see Mrs. Freeman?"
"I told you not before this evening. Why will you worry me with that unpleasant subject? We have enough on our hands now in getting the fair well through."
"I wish it were over; I hate the Fancy Fair! I saw Miss Delicia looking at me, and Miss Dent's eyes were so red, while Mrs. Freeman was talking of the goodness of her girls. I never felt smaller nor meaner in my life. If Mrs. Freeman had known everything, you would not have been standing where you were, Janet,with all that false glory shining about you. I couldn't have taken it, if it were me; but you didn't seem to mind."
"Mind, dear? I like it, I assure you! I mean to have some more of that sort of glory before the day is out. Ah, and here they come! I knew they would not fail us."
Janet's eyes glistened with delight; she forgot all Biddy's unpleasant words in the ecstasy of this moment. Two men were seen walking across the lawn, each of them bearing a large hamper. They laid them down on the grass beside Janet and Bridget.
"These are from Lady Kathleen Peterham," the foremost of the men said. "She desired that they should be delivered without delay to Miss Bridget O'Hara and Miss Janet May."
"This is Bridget O'Hara, and I am Janet May," exclaimed Janet.
The man touched his hat.
"That's all right, then, miss. There are four more hampers to be brought along; we has 'em in a cart at the gate. My mate and me'll go back and fetch 'em, miss; and Lady Kathleen said that one of us was to stay and help you to open them."
"Yes, yes," said Janet eagerly. "Bring the hampers round, please, to the back part of the marquee. We shall have the place quite to ourselves, for the girls do not think there is anything more to be done, and they are busy finishing their packing. Now, Biddy, Biddy, help me! let us set to work. Oh, Glory and Honor, we shall have something more to do withyouthis day!"
Janet's delicate complexion began to flame with excitement; her hand shook with eagerness. She fasteneda large brown holland apron over her pretty white dress, and with the aid of one of the men, who was very handy and efficient, began to take out the contents of the hampers.
Bridget stood aside without offering to help. Janet gave her one or two indignant glances, and then resolved to waste no further time on her.
The lovely things which Lady Kathleen had purchased in Paris were so varied and so dazzling that the home-painted fans, and the various home articles of beauty and art were pushed hastily out of sight, and the stall practically redecked.
Lady Kathleen had evidently spared neither time nor money. Her magnificent contribution to the Fancy Fair consisted of necklets, bangles, scarfs, handkerchiefs, aprons, ties, every conceivable house ornament, gay butterflies for the hair, bewitching little Parisian bonnets; in short, a medley of fashion and beauty which intoxicated Janet out of all reason. She clapped her hands, and laughed aloud, and even Bridget so far forgot her sorrows and the gloom and disgrace which each moment was bringing nearer, to exclaim at the treasures which were taken out of the wonderful hampers.
Evelyn's really beautiful stall sank into complete insignificance beside the stall which was decked with the rare articles of beauty from the choicest Parisian shops. Evelyn might be head of the fair, but Lady Kathleen would certainly have her wish, for no one with eyes to see, and money in her pocket, would linger for a moment beside the home-decked stall when the sort of fairyland which Bridget's and Janet's stall now presented was waiting within a stone's throw for their benefit.
Lady Katherine, remembering the wants of the children, had supplied endless toys and bonbon boxes. In short, no one was forgotten. From the youngest to the oldest a fairy contribution could be found on this wonderful stall.
Lady Kathleen's final act of beneficence was shown in her having marked an exceedingly low price on each of the beautiful articles. In short, a whim had seized her ladyship. Money was of no moment to her; she had spent lavishly, and gone to enormous expense. If every article on the stall were sold, about half the money she had expended would be realized, but that fact mattered nothing at all; her object being not to benefit little Tim Donovan, but to bring honor and renown to her beautiful niece Bridget.
Janet had great taste. She knew in a moment where to place each article to the best advantage; she grouped her colors with an eye to artistic effect; every touch from her deft fingers told. She was so excited and intoxicated with the cheers she had received in the school, and now with this fulfillment of her dearest dream, that her natural talent arose almost to genius. Even Biddy could not help exclaiming with wonder at the results she produced.
"Whatever you are, Janet, you're clever!" she said. "I never saw anything more lovely than this stall; never, never, in all my life!"
"Well," said Janet, "if you admire it, Bridget, be good-natured about it. Whatever is going to happen in the next few hours, let us be happy while the bazaar is going on. Nothing can take place to disturb or frighten us during that time. Let us, therefore, be happy."
"Lady Kathleen Peterham said, miss," remarked one of the men, now approaching Janet, and touching his hat respectfully, "that this box was to be given most especial to you and the other young lady when the stall was decked. Lady Kathleen said you would know what was in it when you opened it, and she'd be sure to be here herself in good time for the fair. Is there anything more that me and my mate can do for you both, young ladies?"
"No, nothing further," said Janet, "we are much obliged. Please clear away the hampers and the pieces of paper and wool in which the different things were wrapped, and if you return to Lady Kathleen say that everything is most satisfactory."
Janet had assumed a slightly commanding air, which suited her well. The men were under the impression that she must be Lady Kathleen's niece. They respectfully attended to her bidding, and, holding the box in her hand, she and Bridget walked round to the other side of the marquee.
It was a large box, and at another time Janet would have been disinclined to burden herself with anything so heavy; but she was in too good a humor now to think of small inconveniences. Attached to the box was pinned a little note. It was directed to Bridget.
"Here!" said Janet, handing it to her. "This is from your aunt; you had better read it at once."
"I don't suppose it matters," said Biddy.
"Of course it matters. I never saw anyone so dull and stupid! Shall I read it to you?"
"If you like."
Janet tore the note open. Her eyes rested on the following words; she read them aloud:
Darling Biddy:I am told that Mrs. Freeman wishes all the stall-holders to wear simple white with green ribbons, but there are different degrees and qualities of this charming combination. I have selected something very simple for you and your friend Miss May to wear on this auspicious occasion. You will find your dresses in the accompanying box. I can promise that they will fit you perfectly.
Darling Biddy:
I am told that Mrs. Freeman wishes all the stall-holders to wear simple white with green ribbons, but there are different degrees and qualities of this charming combination. I have selected something very simple for you and your friend Miss May to wear on this auspicious occasion. You will find your dresses in the accompanying box. I can promise that they will fit you perfectly.
"O Biddy, Biddy!" said Janet, in excitement, "was there ever anyone so kind as your Aunt Kathleen? Let us bring this box into the house at once, and look at our finery."
Even Bridget was not proof against the charms of a new dress. She had a great love for gay clothing, and one of the small things that fretted her on the occasion of the Fancy Fair was having to wear a book muslin dress, made after a prescribed pattern, with a simple sash of apple-green round her waist.
She, therefore, willingly helped Janet to convey the big box to the house.
In the general excitement and disturbance the girls had no difficulty in conveying it unobserved to Bridget's bedroom, where they eagerly opened it, and pulled out its contents.
Lady Kathleen Peterham had been careful to obey Mrs. Freeman's commands to the letter. The Parisian frocks were also of book muslin, and the sashes to be worn with them were of apple-green. But very wide was the difference between the dresses made by a home dressmaker at Mulberry Court and those which two pairs of eager eyes now feasted on.
Lady Kathleen was quite right when she said that there are many kinds of simple costumes. The quality of this book muslin was of the finest; the embroidery and lace of the most exquisite; the puffings and frillings, the general cut and arrangements, were made in the newest, the most stylish and the most becoming fashion. There was something piquant about these dresses, which removed them many degrees from those which Evelyn Percival, Dorothy Collingwood, and the other girls would wear. There were white silk stockings for the girls' dainty feet, and little apple-green satin shoes with pearl buckles and high heels for them to wear with the stockings; there were rows of shining green beads to clasp round their slender throats; and last, but not least, there were the cunningest and most bewitching little headdresses in the world to perch on their heads of sunny hair.
"Let us dress quickly," said Janet. "Let us slip the dresses on and run down to the marquee and stay there. Oh, whatdoesdinner matter? no one will mind whether we dine or not to-day. Let us stay in the marquee until the fair opens; then, even if Mrs. Freeman should disapprove, there won't be time for us to change. O Biddy, can it really be true that I am not only to wear this exquisite costume, but to keep it? Oh, what a woman your Aunt Kathleen is; she is really better than any fairy godmother."
Bridget laughed, and cheered up a good deal while she was putting on her beautiful dress. The two girls dressed with great expedition, and ran down to the marquee, where they amused themselves flitting about from one stall to another until half-past two.
The fair was to open at three, and at half-past twoMrs. Freeman, the numerous teachers belonging to the school, and the rest of the stall-holders streamed down in a body from the house. The white canvas which concealed the front of the tent was removed, and the different girls bustled to their stalls to give the finishing touches to everything.
Bridget was feeling hungry for want of her dinner, but Janet was too excited and too triumphant to feel the pangs of healthy appetite.
She stood a little in the shadow, a slight tremor of nervousness running through her, notwithstanding her delight.
Mrs. Freeman was the first to enter the marquee; she was accompanied by Evelyn and Dorothy; they all walked straight up to Evelyn's stall. It was in the best position, and commanded the first view as one entered the tent.
Mrs. Freeman had not hitherto seen the stalls; her hand was drawn affectionately through Evelyn's arm, she had a careless and relieved expression on her face which made her look years younger. As she had just remarked to one of the teachers:
"I am like a schoolgirl myself to-day. I mean to slip away from dull care for the next seven weeks."
Mrs. Freeman was a very handsome woman, and in her gray silk dress, and a prettily arranged black lace scarf over her shoulders, she presented a striking and impressive appearance.
"So this is ourfirststall," she exclaimed; "very nice; very nice indeed, Evelyn. I knew you had great taste, dear. I must now see what Janet and Bridget have contrived between them."
Janet took this opportunity to step forward.
The shadow caused by the interior of the tent prevented Mrs. Freeman from at once noticing the marked difference in her dress; she only observed a very graceful girl, whose eyes were shining with happiness, and cheeks flushed with natural excitement.
"Will it not be a good plan," said Janet, "to have the side canvas removed also from the marquee. Visitors can then come in from both sides, and there will be no sun round at this angle. Bridget's and my stall is a good deal in shadow; we should like to have the side canvas removed."
"Certainly," said Mrs. Freeman, "give your own directions, Janet."
Janet ran away, called to one of the gardeners, spoke to him quickly and eagerly, ran up a step ladder herself to show him exactly what was to be done, then, springing to the ground, she caught hold of Bridget's hand and waited with a beating heart for the result.
What might have happened can never be known, but at the very moment when the side canvas dropped, and the full glories of the Parisian stall and the exquisitely dressed girls were exposed to view, a gay, high voice was heard in the distance, and a lady was seen tripping with little runs across the lawn, and advancing rapidly in the direction of the marquee.
Mrs. Freeman at once went to meet this lady. Dorothy, Evelyn, Frances Murray, and the many school teachers stood motionless, transfixed with astonishment.
"Well, after that!" said Dolly at last, "are there fairies alive? Janet, I think you are bewitched; what a stall!"
"I never saw anything so beautiful in my life,"said Evelyn; "only I think I ought to have been told."
"It's a nasty, mean trick!" said Frances Murray, "and I for one am not going to be dazzled. It's enchantment, but it's not going to overcome me." She turned away as she spoke; she realized the meaning of the whole thing more quickly than the other two girls.
"Janet, come here," said Evelyn, running up to her, and pulling her forward. "You are dressed in white muslin and green ribbons, but—O Dolly! look at these girls' dresses. There is nothing whatever for us to do but to hide our diminished heads."
"Not a bit of it!" said Dorothy in a stout voice. She turned away; her cheeks were flushed with anger; she had never felt in a greater passion in her life.
"It's a trick to humiliate you, Eva," she said in a whisper. "I might have guessed that Janet would have been up to something; she never wanted you to have anything to do with the fair. You would not have been asked to join at all but for Mrs. Freeman's command, and now she has invented this way to spite us both. I am not going to be cowed, of course; but I never felt so plain and dowdy in my life. I see now why she has taken up with that wretched little Bridget. Oh, why did we clap Janet in the hall just now?"
"Never mind, dear," said Evelyn. "It does not really matter, of course, whose stall is first. In my heart I never in the least cared to take a prominent place in the bazaar. It was just Mrs. Freeman's wish."
"Just Mrs. Freeman's wish!" echoed Dorothy. "It was your right, Evelyn; you know that perfectly well."
"Well, darling, my rights have been taken from me; not that it matters in the very least. Please don'tthink that I am angry. Don't let us seem sorry, Dolly; let us resign ourselves to the second position with a good grace."
"Never!" said Dorothy, stamping her foot. "This is the first stall and you are at the head of the fair, whether people buy from us or not. What—is that you are saying, Janet? I don't want to listen to you."
"Only," said Janet, "you must not suppose this is my fault. I heard you two muttering together, and I suppose you feel vexed that Bridget's and my stall should be more beautiful than yours. If anyone is to blame in the matter, it's Lady Kathleen Peterham. She said the other day she would give us a contribution from Paris. It arrived this morning. How could we possibly tell that it would be so large and magnificent?"
"And I suppose she sent you those dresses, too?"
"She did, quite unsolicited. Don't you admire them?'
"Go away! I don't want to speak to you!"
"You are making poor Bridget quite unhappy, Dorothy. Biddy, never mind, dear; we will both do our utmost to keep in the shade, and, of course, our stall is the second one, not the first. Whoever thought of its being anything else?"
Janet turned away as she spoke. The rest of the children were now pouring down from the house, and more and more guests were arriving each moment. Lady Kathleen, after keeping Mrs. Freeman talking outside, until the very last instant, now rushed in to survey the premises.
"Ah, my love!" she exclaimed, running up to her niece; "you do look charming! I knew that cut about the shoulders, and that arrangement of sleeve wouldsuit you, Bridget. Come here, my treasure, and let me look at you, and little May, too; sweet, dear little Mayflower. My darling, let me whisper to you, you look mostrecherchée—recherchée, yes, that is quite the word. Dear loves, your stall does us three immense credit, does it not? Who talks of anyone else being first now—eh, little Mayflower, eh?"
Janet laughed, flushed, and tripped about. Bridget threw her arms round Lady Kathleen, and gave her a hug. Her presence slightly cheered her. The bazaar now really began, and Janet's tact during the long hours of hard work which followed never deserted her.
If Mrs. Freeman were angry she had no opportunity of showing her feelings; neither Bridget nor Janet saw anything of Dolly and Evelyn; they were surrounded by a stream of eager, worshiping, excited, enthusiastic buyers. The dense mob which surrounded this one stall seemed never for a moment to lighten. The girls worked with a will, and money dropped into their boxes unceasingly.
Once Janet could not resist raising herself on tiptoe, and then springing on an empty box, to see how Dolly's and Evelyn's stall was faring.
Two or three sensible old ladies were calmly scrutinizing some well-made children's frocks and pinafores; no one else seemed to be buying; Dorothy and Evelyn did not look at all overworked. Turning her head in another direction Janet saw that even the refreshment stall was in nothing like the favor that her own stall was in. It was not only the very beautiful things to be purchased, but the young stall-holders were so piquant. One of them was so strikingly beautiful, and both presented such an altogether uncommon appearance, thatpeople pressed forward to obtain a sight of them, and to wonder who they could be.
Finding that the work was too much even for the two indefatigable young sellers, Lady Kathleen herself at last donned a green ribbon badge, and tying on an apron, stepped behind the counter to help the sale. Her good nature, her fun, her quick repartees, made her even a greater favorite than the two girls. The excitement rose now fast and furious. Never, in short, had there been a greater success than Bridget O'Hara's stall.
But in the midst of all the fun Janet's heart was not easy.
Last night she had managed very cleverly to induce Miss Delicia to keep silence. She felt as she worked hard at the Fancy Fair, as she made bargains with customers, and laughed and joked and looked the very personification of light-heartedness and gayety, that she must set her wits to work again to-night. Miss Delicia had only promised to keep silence until the fair was over; but Janet was determined that, come what would, Bridget should leave school before Mrs. Freeman knew of her delinquencies.
People were already beginning to depart, when Janet stole up to Lady Kathleen, who was standing in the shade fanning herself with a huge fan.
"Oh, my darling, what a success the whole thing has been," said that good lady. "Aren't you proud, my little Mayflower, of having won the day? I fear the head girl of the school was simply nowhere on this occasion. I am really sorry for her, poor girl. I saw a dowdy, pale-faced, uncouth-looking creature standing by an equally dowdy stall at the other end of the marquee. Isshethe school favorite—the schoolqueen, my love?"
"Yes," said Janet, in a low voice; "but please don'tspeak against her, she is a very dear, very sweet girl. I really felt sorry for her and her friend Dolly Collingwood to-day."
"Dolly Collingwood was, I presume, that stout, bouncing looking young person with the red cheeks. I thought she looked very cross. It's sweet of you, Mayflower, to stand up for them both; but if you think that I could allow Bridget O'Hara, my niece, to be overshadowed by girls of that sort, you are pretty well mistaken. Thank goodness, the whole affair has gone off splendidly. You look a little tired, Mayblossom, but very, very sweet. Your dress is most becoming. I am so delighted to find that the new way of puffing the drapery over the shoulders suits a littlemignonnething like you. As to Bridget, she is a radiant creature—something like the sun in his strength. You, my dear, resemble the pale moon; but don't be vexed,chérie, the moon, too, is very lovely."
"I want to speak to you," said Janet, laying her small hand on the great lady's sleeve. "No, of course, I am not the least bit vexed. How could I be vexed with anything you do? You are quite the kindest friend I have ever come across; but I want to talk to you about Bridget."
"Mercy, child, how solemn you look! What about my lovely girl?"
"It is just this: I don't think she is well. She has a great color in her cheeks, it is true, and her eyes shine; but she has eaten nothing all day, and just now when I touched her hand it burned. I am sure she is feverish, and over-excited. I wish, Lady Kathleen—I do wish, most earnestly—that you would take her from the school to-night."
"To-night!" said Lady Kathleen; "you quite alarm me, Janet May. If Biddy is going to be ill there'll be a frightful to do. Why, she's the only descendant we have any of us got; positively the last of the family; the apple of her old father's eye, the core of my heart. Oh, my colleen, let me get to her at once!"
"Please, please," said Janet, "will you let me speak to you?"
"Yes, you dear little anxious creature, I will. Why, there are positively tears in your eyes! I never saw anyone so tender-hearted. Oh, bother that Fancy Fair, I am sick to death of it! Let us walk here in the shade. Now, my dear love, what is it?"
"I happen to know," said Janet, "that Bridget is perplexed and unhappy; she has taken some morbid views with regard to certain matters, and her illness of body is really caused by the unrestful state of her mind. It would be very bad for her if anyone noticed that she were not well, but if anyone with tact—like yourself, for instance, Lady Kathleen—were to take her right away from the school to-night, she would probably get quite well at once. I cannot reveal to you what is worrying her, and I must beg of you not to allude to the subject to her. In many ways she is a most uncommon girl, and she is new to the sort of things that go on here. She is quite morbid, poor dear, because she has not got up higher in her classes, and has not won a prize; but it wouldneverdo to mention this to her. Only, Lady Kathleen, please, please, take her away to-night."
"I will," said Lady Kathleen; "I most undoubtedly will. Mum's the word with regard to the reason, of course; but out of this Biddy goes to-day, whateverhappens. I don't stir until she goes with me. But there's just one thing more, my sweet little Janet. When are you going away? where are you going to spend your holidays?"
Janet's eyes drooped.
"I—I don't quite know," she said.
"But I do, my darling. I would not part Biddy from such a tender-hearted, affectionate little friend as you are for the world. If Biddy and I leave Mulberry Court to-night, you leave it to-morrow; and I know where you are going to spend your holidays; at Castle Mahun, in dear old Ireland, with Biddy and her father and me. You'll like that, won't you, sweet Mayflower?"
"But I—I am a poor girl," said Janet, coloring.
Lady Kathleen placed her hand across Janet's lips.
"Not another word," she said; "you are my guest, and I pay for everything. Now, run along, dear, and help Biddy with her packing, you had better not mind the bazaar any more. I'll go and tell her that I am going to take her away with me this evening."
Janet ran off with a beating heart.
She saw daylight in the distance, but she also knew that she was by no means yet out of the wood. Miss Delicia was the most good-natured of women, but she was also not without a strong sense of justice; and even if Miss Delicia could have been induced to keep silence, there was Miss Dent, the English teacher, to be considered. Miss Dent looked fierce and uncomfortable all day. An angry glitter had shone in her eyes whenever she turned them in Bridget's direction; this Janet had not failed to observe. Yes, it was all very well to get Bridget away that evening, and to go with her herself; but she might as well spare all her pains if beforethey left Mulberry Court Miss Delicia had an opportunity of telling her story to Mrs. Freeman.
As Janet was running to the house she met the post boy; he handed her the bag, which happened to be unlocked. In the confusion of the morning the key had got mislaid. Janet took it from him, and, opening it, looked eagerly at its contents. There were only two letters; one for herself, the other, in deep mourning, addressed to Mrs. Freeman. The moment Janet saw this letter she knew what it contained; she also knew that here was an open way out of her difficulty. Mrs. Freeman had a first cousin in Liverpool, who was very, very ill. She was intensely attached to this cousin, whose husband wrote to her almost daily with regard to her health. Janet had often seen the letters, and knew the handwriting. Now, when she saw the black-edged letter with the Liverpool postmark on it, she guessed at once that Mrs. Freeman's favorite cousin was dead.
"I know what I'll do," said Janet to herself; "I'll take this letter to Miss Delicia; I'll tell her how I came by it, and beg of her not to let Mrs. Freeman see it until the worries of the day are over. Miss Delicia will be so pleased with me for this thoughtfulness that, perhaps, she will agree that it is best not to worry Mrs. Freeman about Bridget's naughtiness; at any rate, to-night. This is a bit of luck for me! I'll go and find Miss Delicia at once."
It was not easy to discover that most good-natured, bustling, and obliging little woman. Her movements were so quick, her anxiety to make everyone happy so intense, that she had almost the faculty of being in several places at the same time.
After several minutes' active search, Janet found her in one of the attics, cording a schoolgirl's trunk herself.
"Oh, my dear, what is it?" she said, when the girl entered. "How pretty you look in that stylish frock, Janet! I know Henrietta will scold you for wearing it, but I must own that it is becoming. I am to see my sister on that other unpleasant matter about seven o'clock. Now, what is wrong, my dear?"
"I—I have brought you this," said Janet, her face turning pale, and her voice trembling. "I—I am very sorry, but I thought perhaps you would rather Mrs. Freeman did not have this letter just at present; it came in the post bag, which was unlocked. The post boy gave me the bag, and I looked in. There were only two letters, one for me, and this; I—forgive me, Miss Delicia; it has the Liverpool postmark."
"Good gracious!" said Miss Delicia, "a black-edged letter, and from Liverpool; then it is all over; poor Susan is gone. The will of the Lord be done, of course, but this will be a sore blow to Henrietta."
"I—I thought you'd keep it, and give it to her by and by," said Janet.
"Thank you, my dear; very thoughtful of you; very thoughtful, but I think she must receive it at once, for she will probably wish to go to Liverpool to-night. Poor Susan's husband will—will want her. Oh, this is very, very sad; my dear, loving sister, what a blow I shall have to deal to you!"
"You," said Janet; she came up and laid her hand on Miss Delicia's arm; her face turned ashy white, so much depended on this moment; "you—you won't tell about—about Bridget, at the same time," she gasped.
Miss Delicia stared back at Janet in amazement.
"Of course not!" she said. "Who could be so heartless as to worry Henrietta about school matters at a moment like this?"
"You won't tell Miss Patience, either?"
"I shall, probably, say nothing until Henrietta returns to the Court. How queer you look, Janet; are you ill?"
"No, no, I am very well indeed," said Janet. She bent forward and kissed Miss Delicia on her forehead, and then ran out of the room.