Augusta in terror was hiding behind a bush of laurustinus.
Augusta in terror was hiding behind a bush of laurustinus.
Augusta in terror was hiding behind a bush of laurustinus.
“I must have fancied it,” thought the Captain,
He waited for another minute, then shut the window, refastened the shutters, put out the light, and went up to his own room.
Augusta breathed a sigh of relief. Creeping carefully forward, she reached the wistaria, and clutching the cord, began cautiously to ascend. But if she had been nervous descending from her window, that was nothing at all to her present feelings. She was thoroughly unstrung, and very tired. When she had nearly reached the top she gave a sudden lunge forward, missed the rope, and only saved herself by clutching hold of the bare arm of a part of the vine.
In doing so she gave her wrist intolerable pain, and very nearly fainted. But the danger in which she found herself steadied her nerves sufficiently to enable her to make another great effort, and a moment later she was safe inside her room.
“So much for stolen pleasures,” thought the miserable girl. “Here I am back again, battered, torn—oh, how my wrist aches!—and having run into the gravest danger of my whole life. But there! I must only hope for the best. Now to untie the cord, put it carefully out of sight, shut the window, take off my horrid, useless finery, and get into bed.”
The next day Augusta’s wrist was considerably swollen, and she was in such pain that when Miss Roy went to see her she immediately said the doctor had better be sent for. Augusta herself was scarcely thinking of her wrist.
“If I can only see the doctor by himself,” she thought, “and get him to vaccinate me and say nothing about it. But that is quite impossible. And yet, it certainly ought to be done.”
The girls were all very kind to Augusta, whose head ached, and who was quite willing to remain in bed. But the one question on all the pairs of lips was:
“How did you do it, Gussie? How did you give your wrist such an awful sprain?”
“I did it shutting the window,” said Augusta, jumping at the first excuse she could think of. “Oh, it is nothing; I shall get up presently. It is not my wrist that I mind so much, but the headache I had yesterday evening has not quite gone.”
The doctor came, and said the wrist was badly sprained. He bandaged it carefully, and told Augusta she must wear her arm in a sling.
“How did you say you did it?” was his final remark.
“In shutting the window,” said Augusta. “I slipped somehow.”
The doctor made no reply, but he gave Augusta a somewhat searching look.
“He doesn’t believe me,” thought the girl. “I wonder what he thinks I have been up to. Have I really such a wicked look? For one who means to win the Royal Cross that would never do. That dear, sanctimonious Uncle Peter would scent mischief, and my chances would be over.”
Augusta put on a very mournful expression. The doctor took his leave, assuring her that he would return on the following morning.
“I wish he were a nice, young, handsome doctor,” thought Augusta; “then perhaps I could coax him to keep my secret for me, and to vaccinate me without telling the others. But he is just the most stupid sort—middle-aged and matter-of-fact.”
She lay back on her pillows, feeling exhausted and languid. She had gone through a great deal more than she had any idea of herself on the previous night.
The other girls took turn about to come and sit in her room. Nancy came early in the afternoon. The day was hot and one of the windows was wide open. Nancy sat with her elbows on the window-sill, and now and then she looked out.
Augusta pretended to read a book; she did not care to talk to Nancy. Presently the little girl’s voice sounded in her ear.
“You didn’t really sprain your wrist when you shut the window, did you?” she asked.
“The less you know, Nancy, the better for you.” Augusta answered.
Nancy coloured, and shut her lips. Augusta again took up her book.
“What trash this is!” she said. “I do hate children’s books. Is there nothing racy and lively in the house?”
“I will go to the library and look,” said Nancy.
“Get a novel—a good, rousing love story.”
“I don’t know what sort of books those are,” replied Nancy.
“Oh, you are too good to live, Nancy! You make me perfectly sick. Get one of Mrs. Henry Wood’s books. I don’t much care for her, but she is better than no one.”
Nancy left the room. She went down to the library and searched for a long time, but could not find any of Mrs. Henry Wood’s novels, and was returning again to Augusta’s room when she met the Captain.
“Whither away, Nancy?” he asked in a cheerful tone.
“I am sitting with Augusta,” answered Nancy. “She is better, but she is not at all like herself. I wanted something exciting for her to read.”
“Have you found what you wanted?”
“No.”
“Come back to the library and we will look together.”
They searched along the well-lined walls, and presently Nancy tookKing Solomon’s Minesup to Augusta.
“Little stupid! I have read it,” said Augusta; and she flung the book with passion to the other side of the room.
“You will hurt your wrist if you are so rough,” said Nancy. She went and stood by the window. She looked out, and suddenly made an exclamation.
“Why, Gussie!” she cried.
“Well, what now?”
“How did you do—— Oh, I say! there is your gold bangle hanging on one of the small branches of the wistaria—just half-way down. Howdidit get there?”
“Can it be seen?” asked Augusta.
“Seen!” answered Nancy. “Of course it can; it shines like anything.”
“Run down at once; go under my window and find out if you can see it from below.”
“But I am sure I can. Why should I go?”
“Go to oblige me; and be quick, Nancy—be quick.”
Nancy went. She returned in a few minutes.
“It can be seen,” she said; “and very plainly, too.”
“Then you must manage to get it off that branch, Nancy. Do you hear? You must.”
“I!” cried Nancy. “But how, Gussie? How am I to get down? It is ever so many feet away.”
“You must climb down.”
“But I am afraid of climbing. I always get giddy when I look from any height. I daren’t do it, Gussie; I should fall on my head and get killed.”
“You really are the most tiresome child,” said Augusta. “Here, stand out of my way. Let me look for myself.”
Augusta got out of bed, and peeped over the window-sill.
“How very awkward!” she said. “How could it have got there? It must have dropped from my arm last night when I went to look out.”
“Just before you shut the window?” said Nancy.
“Well, yes. Do you think any one will believe that story?”
“No, I don’t,” replied Nancy after a moment’s pause.
Augusta laughed. “Goosey, goosey, gander!” she said. “I might have known that you were not quite such a goose as all that. Now, could we not hook it up with an umbrella handle? Do let’s try.”
Both girls tried, but in vain.
“There is nothing for it, Nancy, but to get the gardener to bring a ladder. You must point it out to him, and ask him to take it down. Where is the gardener to-day?”
“I don’t know,” replied Nancy. “I have not seen him.”
“Well, you must go and look for him. What are the rest of them doing?”
“We are all going to have tea in the woods.”
“And leave me! How unkind!”
“Miss Roy said she would sit with you.”
“No, Nancy; she must not. You will have to stay with me. Do you hear? You must make up some sort of excuse, and then when they are all away we will ask the gardener to get us back the bracelet. Do you hear, Nancy? You must do it. I should get into the most horrible scrape otherwise; and after the way you deserted me last night it is the very least you can do.”
“Very well,” said Nancy in a low tone. “But I did want to go to the woods,” she murmured under her breath.
“I know you are to be trusted,” said Augusta. “And now I think I may have a few minutes’ sleep. You can wake me when tea arrives.”
Nancy went downstairs and told the others that she intended to stay with Augusta. Miss Roy exclaimed:
“My dear, you are looking quite pale. I often feel anxious about you. You want the air. You have been with Augusta for ever so long to-day.”
“Indeed, I would rather stay,” answered Nancy; and she coloured so painfully, and there was such an eager, supplicating glance in her eyes, that Miss Roy said nothing further.
“What a dear, sweet, unselfish little soul she is!” thought Captain Richmond. He was disappointed not to have her company in the woods; but as he passed her side he patted her on the shoulder.
“I can quite understand that the brave soldier sometimes denies himself,” he said.
A lump came into Nancy’s throat, but she made no reply.
The party went off, carrying a kettle and a tea-basket. Their voices faded away in the distance, and Nancy went up to Augusta.
“They have gone; I have heard them,” cried Augusta. “Now fetch the gardener, and be very, very quick.”
Nancy went downstairs. She raced all over the place, and at last she found Simpson, the very worthy old gardener whom Mrs. Richmond always employed.
“Can you come with a ladder, and can you come at once?” asked the little girl.
“Well now, miss, I am particular busy to-day,” was Simpson’s answer; “but if so be as you want me very bad, why, I’ll do what I can for you, miss. But if it is for that other young lady——”
“Is it for the other young lady, miss?”
“It is for me, because I want to help her,” said Nancy. “She has dropped a bracelet—a gold bangle—into the wistaria which grows up to her window.”
“Oh! I know that wistaria,” said Simpson, with a laugh. “It is a good, steady sort of tree, and afore now it has been made useful. Well, missy, if Miss Augusta has dropped her bangle into the wistaria it can wait till to-night. I need not lug a ladder all that way in the midst of my other work.”
“Oh! she wants you to comenow; she does indeed, Simpson.”
“Then I must go,” replied the old man; and presently he and his ladder appeared under the window of Augusta’s room. Augusta had partly dressed, and stood by the window giving directions. When the bangle was handed in to her she seized it, but not very graciously.
“Here,” she said to Simpson, “is a shilling; and I am much obliged to you. You will never speak of it, of course; it isquitea private matter, and you must never on any account tell.”
“I ain’t likely to tell what don’t concern me,” replied Simpson—“that is, I don’t tell unless I am arsked. But as to your shilling, miss, you can keep it, for I don’t want none of it.”
“As to your shilling, miss, you can keep it, for I don’t want none of it.”
“As to your shilling, miss, you can keep it, for I don’t want none of it.”
“As to your shilling, miss, you can keep it, for I don’t want none of it.”
He stepped down from the ladder and moved slowly away.
“What a horrid, impertinent old man!” said Augusta when he had gone. “But there! the bangle is all right. Put it into my jewellery drawer, Nancy. Oh dear! I wonder, Nancy, if you have ever felt frightened—scared, you know.”
“Yes; once I did,” replied Nancy.
“Did you? Oh! I wish you would tell me about it. It would interest me; it would be as good as a novel.”
“It was when mother was alive,” said Nancy. “The doctor said she was very ill, that she might be dead in the morning. She did not die—not—not then; but I spent an awful night. Yes, I was scared.”
“I don’t think the account of your being scared sounds very fascinating, Nancy,” said Augusta. “It is not like my scare.”
“But are you scared about something?”
“Yes; I have had a great and terrible scare.”
“Won’t you tell me?”
“Not yet; I will some time, but not yet. I think I’ll get up now; I am much better. Come, help me into my dress. We will both be downstairs when they come back from the woods.”
Nancy helped Augusta to dress, and the two girls went downstairs.
The party from the woods returned about eight o’clock. They were all excited, and brimful of news. Miss Roy was the first to speak of it.
“How lucky,” she said—“how very, very lucky it is that Mrs. Richmond has forbidden you girls to have anything to do with the Asprays!”
“Why?” asked Nancy.
“My dear, a terrible—most terrible—thing has happened. That poor, pretty girl Constance is down with malignant smallpox. She is terribly ill, and the doctors say not likely to recover. The doctors are terribly anxious, and they have sent for a specialist from town.”
“How did you hear it?” asked Augusta. She was standing in the shadow, and as she spoke she pulled Nancy towards her.
“Keep quiet,” she whispered in her ear.—“How did you hear it, Miss Roy?” she repeated; and she fixed her eyes, bold and restless, on the governess’s face.
“Some friends of ours passed through the woods, and they told us,” she answered. “How terrible it all is! I only wish we could help them, poor creatures, but that is not to be thought of. They say the whole family are liable to catch it, as the unfortunate girl was with them during the first stage of the disease. There is no more fearful disease than smallpox. I almost wonder, girls, if your mother would like you to remain here.”
“Oh! the girls are perfectly safe at Fairleigh,” said the Captain. “I can take it upon myself to say that. But it may be better for them not to go into the town until we find out how the poor girl got the complaint.”
“Nancy, I am not quite well; will you help me back to my room?” Augusta tottered as she spoke, and fell into a chair which stood near.
Both Kitty and Nora rushed up to her, and Miss Roy went to the sideboard and fetched a glass of wine.
“Your wrist has hurt you very much, dear,” she said. “You ought not to have come down. What a very excellent thing that you have not been near the Asprays for a long time! It is quite a fortnight since you saw any of them.”
“Oh, quite—quite!” answered Augusta.
“And now, as you suggested,” said Miss Roy, “you had better go to your room.—Kitty, you go with your cousin. Nancy ought to have a run in the fresh air before night.”
“No; I want Nancy. I can’t—I won’t have any one else,” said Augusta.
“And I don’t want to go out, really,” said Nancy, looking full at Miss Roy as she spoke.
The two girls left the room and went upstairs.
The moment they got to her room Augusta said, “Lock the door, Nancy; lock it, and come over close to me. Take my hands in yours. Feel how cold I am. Feel how I tremble.”
“Yes—yes; I know,” said Nancy.
“And you know also about my terror—my scare?”
“Yes; I think so. But, Gussie,wereyou there last night?”
“Yes; in the house—the very house. I saw Flora, and Flora had slept in the room with Connie the night before; and they said I ought not to have come in, but I went. Oh! I am sure I am infected, and if I get it I shall die. Oh Nan! I am sick with terror—sick with terror.”
“You must tell,” said Nancy. “You must tell Uncle Peter and Miss Roy at once. I know they will forgive you and be sorry for you; but, Augusta, you must tell.”
“Tell!” said Augusta. “You little horror, if you let it out, I don’t know what I shall not do to you. Of course I won’t tell; why should I? Tell! Why, that would mean no Paris, no Royal Cross. It would mean disgrace; it would mean ruin. I amnevergoing to tell.”
“But suppose you get smallpox.”
“Will telling save me?”
“But it will save the others. You ought not to be with them. You may give it to Kitty and Nora.”
“And to Nancy. Now I know why Nancy is so anxious that I should make a confession. But I won’t tell; and you must not tell. Now sit close to me, and let us think. It is a real comfort to have you to confide in. There! put your arms round my neck and hug me. Oh dear, how miserable I am!”
Augusta was so really wretched, and so genuinely terrified, that Nancy could not but pity her. It was impossible to be cross in the midst of such agony; and when Augusta crept close to the little girl, and squeezed her tight, and laid her head on her shoulder, Nancy found herself, in spite of everything, returning her embrace.
“You are a nice little thing,” said Augusta—“so soft and petable. You don’t know how you comfort me and help me to bear up. What I really ought to do is to be vaccinated. Dr Earle ought to vaccinate me, but I am afraid to speak to him.”
“He certainly would tell the others,” said Nancy; “and,” she added, “I must, of course, tell them. You know, Gussie, it would be very,verywrong of me to keep this a secret.”
Augusta sat still, thinking hard. Notwithstanding her softness and gentle appearance, she knew well that Nancy could be obstinate. She could be firm; she could be valiant for the truth. Augusta had proved all that the day before when the little girl had refused to help her in her escapade; so she tried to consider the best possible means of securing poor Nancy’s silence by guile.
“After all, now that I come to think of it, there would be no use in my being vaccinated,” she said.
“Why?” Nancy asked. “I thought it was considered a sort of safeguard.”
“Yes; but I was done two years back, and I didn’t take it. The doctor did me twice, and I didn’t take it either time, and he said that proved I was not liable to smallpox. What a good thing I remembered! I am not half so frightened now, for our clever doctor at home must have known what he was talking about. Don’t you think his opinion worth having, Nancy?”
“Yes; it comforts me too,” said Nancy. “But still, I am sure you ought to tell.”
“Now, why, you little goose? Do consider and be sensible, Nan. Oh, you must squeeze your arms round my neck again; I do so love to feel them! You know I am deeply attached to you, Nancy. I never mean to let you go out of my life—never.”
“Oh!” answered Nancy.
“And you love me too; don’t you, little darling?”
“I—Ipityyou,” said Nancy, her voice trembling.
“Well, well! pity is akin to love. But now to the point at issue. Remember what my doctor said. I am almost sure I shall not take the smallpox, and there would be no use in vaccinating me, for I certainly should not take that; so what would be the good of frightening every one? Think of the awful fortnight they would have, not being certain any moment whether I should get ill or not.”
“Yes, but Nora and Kitty could go away.”
“Where would be the use of that? I cannot infect them unless I get it. The clothes I wore when I was with Flora are hanging up in my cupboard. I have nothing on me that I wore then. Nancy, do believe that I am wiser than you. It would be cruel to frighten them all. I will tell themafterwards—yes, I will tell them afterwards, when the fortnight is past, when the danger is over; and meanwhile, if you will only be silent, I will do everything for you that I promised to do if you had helped me last night. Think what that means: the paper I robbed you of returned; and all the story of your past life explained. What a time we shall have together! And how wise you will be when you know the truth!”
“And my bird—my darling Sunbeam?” whispered Nancy.
“Perhaps I will tell about that too. I am awfully sorry about it. But, anyhow, you shall know the two other things, and we will be a good bit together for the next few days. Nancy, the moment I feel ill, the least little scrap ill, with a headache or anything, I will go away to my room, and no one shall see me but you. You are not nervous about yourself, are you?”
“Not a scrap,” answered Nancy.
“You promise that you will not tell?”
“Oh, I suppose it is frightfully wrong—I am almost sure it is frightfully wrong—but you do tempt me; and if what you say is quite true—I mean about the vaccination—perhaps it would do no good to tell.”
“But I’ll tell you what you can do. Now that Miss Roy knows about Connie, you can put it into her head to have the rest of you vaccinated. Oh, my dear Nancy, I feel quite happy at last.”
So Nancy yielded. She was sorry enough afterwards, but she yielded, being compelled by Augusta’s entreaties, by the look in her eyes, and the tempting bait she held up for her acceptance.
That night Nancy was in possession of some important pieces of information. She knew exactly the position she held with regard to the Asprays. She could claim the Asprays’ house as her home by right at any moment. She could leave Mrs. Richmond, and go to Mr. Aspray and say, “You owed my father money, and now I have come to you, and you are bound by your own solemn promise to my father to take me and provide for me. This is myright, and I owe nothing to you, because my father helped you with a large sum of money.”
This was the news that Nancy was told by Augusta, but she took good care not to enlighten the little girl as to how she came by the information, Nancy listened with flushed cheeks and shining eyes; and presently, tired out, she went away to bed.
“I suppose I ought to be glad,” she thought as she laid her head on her pillow; “but I am not glad, for I can never consider the Asprays’ house my own. And, yes—oh yes—I wouldratherbe Mrs. Richmond’s little charity-girl than be the grandest girl in the world as Mr. Aspray’s adopted daughter.”
This news kept her from thinking so much about the smallpox, and about the danger which Augusta had run.
“Nan,” said Kitty as she tumbled into bed, “how hot your face is! You tire yourself over Gussie.”
“Oh, I am all right,” said Nancy.
“Isn’t it a good thing,” said Nora, “that Augusta has not been so much with the Asprays? She might have got into most awful danger; but, as it is, all is safe.”
Nancy was silent, and Kitty gave her a very earnest glance.
“You know something, and you are not going to tell us,” she said abruptly.
“I wish you would not question me. I have a headache,” pleaded Nancy.
“Well, no, we won’t. Gussie could not have been so awfully, awfully wicked as to disobey Uncle Peter. We do know that she might be guilty of tiny sins, but a great monstrous one like that—oh, it is impossible! Now, Nan, get into bed and get your headache well. Oh, what a pity you were not downstairs to-night! We were discussing all about prize-day. Uncle Peter has arranged that it comes off on Thursday week—that is, in about ten days from now. Oh, it will be a day and a half, I can tell you!”
Certainly prize-day was to lose no outward manifestation of its great importance. A telegram had arrived from Mrs. Richmond announcing her safe arrival at the Cape. But when she would be back again was quite uncertain.
The girls, however, determined to have a right good time in her absence; and in this they were aided and abetted by the Captain, who, for all his moral qualities, enjoyed a lark with the best.
So far as the special prizes went, they were to be bestowed upon the successful candidates in private. “For our battalion is more or less a secret one,” said the Captain. “We fight, you know, againstinvisiblefoes, against the powers of the air, so to speak, and we don’t wantvisiblepeople—acquaintances, and so on—to behold us either in our defeat or victory. I propose that the prizes should wind up the day, when all the guests have gone, and the dance is over, and the fun is at an end. Then will come the crowning event, after which all must necessarily be bathos.”
The girls willingly agreed, and preparations were set on foot for the festival. Captain Richmond decided that the early part of the day should be given up to the poor people of the neighbourhood. There should be a dinner on the lawn, followed by games and tea. Several prizes for feats of skill were to be offered, and the usual amusements provided.
Captain Richmond, who came down to Fairleigh almost every year, belonged to a workmen’s club and a boys’ cricket club, and was consequently well known by most of the people in the place. Invitations were sent out to quite a hundred poor people, and very busy were the Fairleigh servants preparing for the work which lay before them. For visitors were also to arrive in the afternoon—the several young folks whom the Richmonds happened to know. They were to help to entertain the poor people, who were expected to take their departure at six o’clock. Then would follow a dance in the great drawing-room, ending by supper. Supper would usher in the departure of the guests, and after that the successful winner of the Royal Cross would be decorated with her great honour. This was the plan, and great delight did it cause among the young people.
Augusta was now as gay as the others. She had forgotten all possible danger, and except that she avoided speaking of the Asprays, turning a little white when the subject of Connie’s terrible illness was broached, she certainly looked as if nothing ailed her. She was quite in her element making preparations for the great prize-day, and proved a most useful, clever, and efficient mistress of the ceremonies; for, being the eldest girl, Captain Richmond was forced to put her into this position. Neither Kitty nor Nora wished for it; and as to Nancy, she was of course quite out of the running.
“We must have new dresses for the dance,” said Augusta. “We ought to send to town for them.”
“As to that,” replied Captain Richmond, “you must please yourselves, girls. I never did know anything about dress; but it seems to me that all girls look much alike—that is, as far as their dress is concerned. Oh yes, put on something white and feathery-looking; that is the correct thing, is it not?”
“Uncle Pete, you are quite too killing!” said Gussie; and she laughed with great enjoyment. That afternoon she sent a long letter to her mother’s dressmaker in town, the result of which was that an interesting and mysterious-looking box arrived for her on the day before the dance. It was taken straight up to her room, and she invited the three other girls and Miss Roy to come and witness the unpacking.
“I just doadorefinery,” said Gussie. “I don’t pretend for a moment that I am made any other way. I revel in pretty things. No one could ever give me too much dress or too many fine feathers. Now then”——
The cord of the box was removed, the lid was lifted, and between folds of tissue-paper a beautiful white silk, soft as quantities of delicate lace and chiffon could make it, was unfolded.
“Isn’t it just too sweet?” said Gussie. “Fancy me in it. I wish I were quite grown-up so that I might have a train. Well, I shall be grownup in two years’ time. Two years don’t takeverylong to run—do they, Miss Roy?”
“Not when you get as old as I am,” said Miss Roy; “but at your age they go somewhat slowly. Yes, it is a pretty frock, but, in my opinion, a little too dressy for the occasion.—My dear Nora and Kitty and Nancy, you will look very countrified beside Augusta.”
“Oh, we don’t mind,” said Nora, with a laugh.
“In fact,” said Kitty, “we would rather wear plain washing frocks, which can just be put into the tub and come out as fresh as ever.”
“Sour grapes,” said Augusta. “Now, Nancy here would like a dress of this sort.—Wouldn’t you, Nancy?”
“Yes—very much,” replied Nancy.
Miss Roy gave her a critical and somewhat surprised glance.
“I didn’t know that you cared about fine clothes, Nancy,” she said.
“Not always; but I should have liked a dress like Augusta’s for to-morrow. All the same,” she added, “I am not going to be unhappy about it.”
“Put your dress back, dear,” said Miss Roy. “I am glad you are pleased. And now let us go downstairs. You know, my dears, the news about poor Connie Aspray is very serious indeed. She was so ill last night that she was not expected to live. If anything were to happen to her, our party to-morrow could scarcely take place. However, we must hope for the best.—Augusta, you are looking very white and tired; you won’t be good for anything unless you go to bed soon. Now come down; Uncle Peter is waiting for his supper.”
After supper that night Kitty ran up to Nora and began to whisper to her. Nora looked excited, and nodded her head once or twice. The end of the little girls’ confab was a sudden rushing of two eager pairs of feet all over the grounds looking for Uncle Peter. Eventually the Captain was discovered, smoking by himself in an arbour at one end of the grounds.
“We knew you by the glow-worm in your mouth,” said Nora, with a peal of laughter. “And now we want you to do something for us—oh, so very, very badly!”
“Well, come, young monkeys,” said the Captain, making room for a niece to sit on each side of him. “Now then, what is the news? Oh, how your eager, silly little hearts beat! What is up, young-uns?”
“It is about Nan,” said Nora. “You know, Uncle Pete, that there never was a little girl less vain than Nancy.”
“My dear child, I am quite willing to believe you; but why should Nancy be vain?”
“Oh, you know she is sweetly pretty.”
“She is,” said the Captain; “she has quite a charming face.”
“And we want her to look the very prettiest girl in the room to-morrow night. Augusta has such a grand frock, sent all the way from London—a flounced and billowed and chiffoned dress, Uncle Pete—and she is so conceited about it; and to-night, when we were looking at it, Nancy said she would like a frock like that. Poor darling! we were rather surprised—though, after all, it did seem quite natural. And, Uncle Pete, we want her to have one; and, Uncle Pete,canyou manage it?”
“Good gracious, my dear child! I know nothing about clothes.”
“Oh, couldn’t you go to town and see what the very grandest shop has—ready-made, you know? Surely there must be something that Nan could wear.”
“But to-morrow is the day of the festival. Even if I started now to London I could not be back in time.”
“But couldn’t you go to Exeter? You could get to Exeter in an hour and a half.”
“And find all the shops shut, Nora.”
“Couldn’t you take the very earliest train tomorrow morning and get back in time?”
“I could, of course, only what state should I find this place in here?”
“Oh! we will see to that. We will do every single thing in your absence.”
“What devoted little friends Nan has!”
“Of course we are devoted to our darling; who would not be?” said Nora.
“It would be so lovely to see Gussie coming in all bows and smiles and curtsies, and with that sort of affected way she has, and then Nancy dancing in in her pretty dress, looking more beautiful than Gussie could ever look!” said Kitty.
“Really, Kitty, you can be quite eloquent when you please,” said the Captain. “Well, leave the matter to me.”
“You will do it, Uncle Peter; and you will manage the money part?”
“Oh yes, child; I will manage the money part.”
“Well then, good-night,dearUncle Peter; we must be going to bed.”
They tripped off through the darkness; and the Captain put on his considering cap with a vengeance.
The day of the party dawned on the world as sunshiny as day could dawn. The fierce heat of the sun was tempered by just the right amount of breeze. The sultry weather of the past ten days had given place to a fresher and clearer atmosphere. All the world ought to have been in the best of spirits on such a glorious day in early autumn.
About eleven o’clock Captain Richmond appeared on the scene, carrying a square box in his hand. He entered the library, where Miss Roy happened to be alone.
Miss Roy’s face was preternaturally grave, and when she saw the Captain she uttered an exclamation of relief.
“I am so glad you have come!” she said. “I want to speak to you badly.”
“What is it?” asked Captain Richmond.
“Will you shut the door and turn the key? I don’t want any of the children to overhear us.”
“Where are the children?” asked Captain Richmond.
“Busy all over the place—busy as you might expect such little bees to be on such an occasion. Oh, but I forgot! Gussie is lying down; she has a slight headache and pain in her back.”
“Augusta doesn’t seem too strong,” said the Captain. “I have heard of several headaches lately.”
“She is a very queer girl, and I don’t understand her,” said Miss Roy.
“After all, Miss Roy,” said the Captain, “she must be a very good girl, for beyond doubt she will be the happy possessor of the Royal Cross to-night.”
“You don’t say so! I am amazed!” answered the governess.
“To tell the truth, I am amazed myself, and a little disappointed. It is wrong to say it, but I am. Still, there is no question with regard to the matter. Augusta is the only one of the little battalion who has not had a single bad mark for conduct.”
“I am sure poor Nora and Kitty have tried their best,” said Miss Roy, standing up for her pupils, as was natural.
“Just so. I am sure you are right. Nevertheless, the poor mites have little gray marks for carelessness, untidiness, forgetfulness, registered against them on several occasions.”
“Yes,” said Miss Roy, “that is true. I have entered those marks myself, and regret having had to do so.”
“What else could you do?” said the Captain. “If there was anything in my little scheme, absolute truth and justice were essential.”
“What about Nancy?” said Miss Roy, fixing her eyes on the Captain’s face.
“Nancy!” said the Captain. “Don’t you remember?”
“Remember? Oh yes! Could I forget? But I had hoped”——
“What, my dear lady?”
“That some explanation had been arrived at. How is it possible to credit a child like Nancy with cruelty?”
But then Miss Roy recalled the incident of the starving canary, and her voice faltered as she spoke.
“There is no explanation,” said Captain Richmond. “I feel nearly wild about it, I assure you. I have thought over the matter until my head ached; but the entry was made by my sister-in-law, a woman who does not make mistakes. It is impossible there could be anything wrong in the entry. What Nancy did we don’t know, but that mark takes away even the remotest chance of her winning the Royal Cross.”
“Then you will tell her,” said Miss Roy; “you will at least give her a chance of explaining, if any explanation is possible?”
“Yes; I shall have to speak of it at the time. It will be a painful moment, but it is only just to the little girl.”
“I feel certain,” said Miss Roy, “that Nancy will be able to put matters right.”
But then again she thought of the canary, and once again her speech seemed to choke her.
“You must not worry about it,” said Captain Richmond. “And now,” he added in a good-natured tone, “can I do anything for you? Pray command me.”
“There is something I must speak to you about, Captain Richmond—something very serious and painful. I cannot tell you how grieved I am that such bad news should reach us on this auspicious day. I think it will be our duty to keep what I am about to communicate from the young people. Let them have one day of pleasure at any rate. But the fact is, poor Constance Aspray is not expected to live out the day, and a servant in the house has now developed smallpox.”
“Indeed!” said the Captain. “How terrible!”
“We cannot put off our guests now,” said Miss Roy; “nor would it be wise. Any kind of panic at such a time would be sure to make the mischief worse. There have been a few other cases in the village, and although they have been removed to hospital at once, yet it would certainly be best for us to leave here to-morrow morning. I should not feel I was fulfilling my duty to Mrs. Richmond if I allowed the children to run any further risk.”
“Very well,” said the Captain, “you must do as you think best. Only let them all be happy for this day at least.”
He was about to leave the room, when he turned suddenly:
“Could you have this box conveyed to Nancy’s bedroom?” he said. “There is a little surprise within for her; and I only wish I were able to give her the Royal Cross to-night.”
Miss Roy promised to attend to Captain Richmond’s request, and the young man left the house.
Outside, Kitty, Nora, and Nancy were rushing wildly about, arranging benches, seeing to the best position for garden chairs, and helping here, there, and everywhere. They rushed to the Captain with glad welcomes, and he was soon as busy as the rest making preparations for the evening.
Lunch was extra early that day, in order to have everything in readiness for the advent of the poor people early in the afternoon.
Nancy and the other two girls went up to their rooms, and soon a shriek from Nancy brought Kitty and Nora running to her bedroom.
“Oh, is it a fairy—is it—is it? I don’t know whether I am on my head or on my heels,” cried the little girl; “but such a darling, such a beauty! Oh, isn’t it just sweet? Who gave it to me? Kitty, it can’t be true; it must be meant for some other little girl.”
“No, it isn’t. See what is written on that piece of paper,” said Kitty, whose face was red and her eyes dancing with joy. “See for yourself, Nancy; see for yourself.”
Nancy read the following words on a little white card:
“From a genie to a good fairy, with compliments.”
“Oh, it is quite mysterious!” said Nancy. “But are you certain that I am the good fairy?”
“Certain—positive,” said Kitty. “Why, I could not wear that dress; it is a great deal too small. What a figure of fun I should look with my long legs! But it will suit you, Nancy, to perfection. I knew that”——
“Hush, Kitty!” said Nora.
“You are hiding something from me,” said Nancy.
“Nothing—nothing, truly: but do let us examine it. Is it not wonderful to have a genie for a friend?”
“What is a genie?” said Nancy.
“A sort of grown-up fairy—better than a fairy, because he is stronger, and he is quite grownup, you know. And if a little girl has a genie for a friend, why, anything may happen to her. She might ask for anything and she would probably get it. And, oh, what sweet little shoes! And the stockings! Well done, Unc”——
“Kitty, you are quite incorrigible,” said Nora. “But there, Nan! you are in luck; the dress is yours, and you are to wear it to-night. Now do come, Kit, for if we don’t hurry we shall be late for lunch.”
Nancy folded the pretty frock and put it into its box. Kitty’s words had enlightened her: Uncle Pete was the genie; and, of course, she was the good little fairy.
“But am I a good fairy?” thought the child. “Oh, if he only knew! And if he could only guess how my heart aches—often, often. I know I have no chance of the Royal Cross to-night. I wonder who will get it. Gussie hopes that she will. Perhaps she will, for she is so clever; no one guesses when Gussie does wrong things—no one but me. Oh, how unhappy she has made my life! Well, I must go to her now. I must find out if her head is any better.”
Nan flew along the corridors, and soon reached Augusta’s room, opened the door without knocking, and went in.
Augusta was lying in an uneasy doze, and her face was considerably flushed.
“It is lunch-time,” said Nan; “aren’t you coming down?”
“No,” said Augusta; “I could not eat anything.”
“Are you ill?” asked Nancy in a low, terror-stricken whisper.
“No, I am not a bit ill,” said Augusta; “but I have got one of my stupid headaches. Don’t look so scared, child. Come here, close to me, Nan.”
“Yes,” said Nancy; and she went to Augusta’s side and bent over her. “You are hot, Gussie; and, oh dear, how your face burns!”
“I always get hot like that when I have these stupid headaches; but it is better. I don’t feel it when I am lying down. Nancy, has there been any news from the Asprays?”
“I have not heard of any,” said Nancy.
“Oh, what a relief”——
“We would have heard if—if the worst——” said Nancy.
“Oh, of course; but don’t let as think any more about them,” said Augusta. “And I am not a bit ill, really. Tell them all I am coming down this afternoon, but I shall stay quiet until then.”
“But won’t you have anything to eat, Gussie?”
“No, no; nothing. I could not touch a morsel. Go away now; there’s a good child.”
“Do you know, Gussie, Uncle Pete—a good genie, I mean—has brought me such a lovely frock; very like yours, only, I think, nicer. It was in a box, and the box was on my bed. I have just unfastened it and looked at the frock. But isn’t it just too sweet of him?”
“Yes,” said Augusta. “Then there will be two of us to look pretty to-night.”
“I want to look very, very pretty,” said Nancy, “just to show Uncle Pete how grateful I am to him.”
“Well, don’t chat any more now; your silly talk makes my head worse than ever. Run away now. Only listen; if there is any worse news, be sure you let me know.”
“Yes,” said Nancy; and she left the room.
Augusta tossed from side to side of her bed. Troubled thoughts were visiting her. A fear, grave and mighty, was lying dormant in her breast; very little would make it start into full growth. She sat up presently and pushed the thick hair from her brows.
One of the housemaids came in, and started when she saw Augusta; then coming forward, she said in a tone of commiseration:
“Oh, Miss Gussie! I didn’t know you were here. And you do look bad, miss. Is there much the matter?”
“Only a stupid headache,” said Augusta. “It will be all right presently. I shall come down to have my fun when those tiresome poor people have gone; I am not going before.”
“We are all going to have a lark,” said the girl, who saw no reason for being extra respectful to Augusta, who was no favourite with the servants. “There are a lot of them coming; but Gaffer Jones can’t, nor can old Tilbury.”
“Who are they? And why can’t they come?” asked Augusta.
“Because of the sickness, miss.”
“Sickness!” said Augusta, at once on the alert. “Is any one ill?”
“Three cases of smallpox in the village, miss. But the sick people is took to the hospital—two in Gaffer Jones’s house, and one in Tilbury’s—three in all. It do seem sad about that poor, handsome young lady.”
“Miss Aspray, do you mean?” said Augusta, whose face had now turned deadly white.
“Yes, miss—of course.”
“She is not dead?”
“No, no, miss. How bad you look! But she is likely to be afore long. There! I won’t talk to you no more, miss, if I can’t do nothing for you; but if you would like a cup of tea”——
“No; leave me, please, Jane. All I want is to be quiet.”
Jane withdrew, and Augusta flung herself once more on her bed and covered her head.
“Of course it is nothing,” she said to herself; “only this headache. I am safe now, and I won’t even think there is anything to fear. But—but, oh, the pain in my back!”
Notwithstanding the shadow of illness which rested so darkly over one house, and which was already making its cruel and awful presence felt in the village, the party at Fairleigh was a merry one. Everything was done to make the guests happy. There was no selfish element at work, and the guests were delighted—there was no hitch anywhere. Poor Augusta upstairs, in pain and terror, was for the time forgotten.
But the gayest time will come to an end, and when the party had run races innumerable, swarmed up greasy poles, leapt barriers, and jumped about in sacks, and gone through the different feats which are the pride and honour of an Englishman’s holiday, a good meal followed. Then the children of the neighbourhood appeared on the scene, and soon after six o’clock the first batch of guests took their leave.
It was now the turn of the young people of the house to rush off to their rooms to get ready for the dance, which was to be, in one sense, the greatest event of the day.
Nan, with her heart smiting her for having forgotten Augusta so long, went first to that young lady’s room.
She knocked. Gussie said, “Come in;” and she entered.
“How do I look?” said Augusta.
Nancy started with genuine pleasure when she saw her. She was up, and was arrayed in her beautiful frock. The maid Jane had been summoned, and had tied all the strings and fastened the different hooks.
“You do look well now, Gussie,” said Nancy. “I am so happy!”
Augusta, always a striking-looking girl, looked distinctly handsome to-night. The brightness of incipient fever shone in her eyes, making them both large and dark; a rich colour mantled her cheeks, and the very dread which filled her softened her beauty and gave character to her face. Her lovely dress fitted her to perfection, and showed off her young graces, making her look quite remarkable.
“How nicely you have your hair done! Did Jane do it?” asked Nancy.
“No; I did it myself.”
“And is your headache quite well now?”
“It aches now and then, but it is nothing to signify. When I have danced a little I shall be quite all right.”
“Oh Gussie! you are shivering, and your face has turned white.”
“I must have taken a chill,” said Augusta. “I have been like this, off and on, all day.”
“Have you had anything to eat, Gussie?”
“No; I could not eat. But I should like something to drink. My eyes burn, and I am awfully thirsty.”
“Oh, there are such piles of ices downstairs! I will go and fetch you a strawberry ice.”
“You really are a good little thing. But come here. Have you heard anything fresh about the Asprays?”
“About the Asprays?” said Nancy. “No—nothing at all.”
“But I have. Jane has told me that Constance is worse—so bad that they don’t think she can recover. And, oh! if Connie dies, I can’t—Ican’tbear it.”
“Oh, but she won’t die! And please—please, Gussie, do bear up. I am sure God will spare Constance.”
“I don’t know. I don’t seem able to believe anything—anything good, I mean, Nancy. But did I tell you that there are cases in the village?”
“Are there?” said Nancy. “But it can’t be true,” she added, “for if there were Miss Roy would have told us.”
“It is true; and I watched the people as they came on the lawn. I watched them on purpose. Gaffer Jones was not there, nor was Mrs. Tilbury, nor any of her family. Some of the Tilburys are down with it, Nancy, and some of the Joneses. And, oh dear! I wish I could get it all out of my head—it is so—so dreadful.”
“I must rush away to dress,” said Nancy. “It is very sad, but we are bound to make ourselves happy to-night, and forget such things.”
She ran off, having quite forgotten about the ice which she had promised to bring to Augusta.
Augusta stood for a long while by the window; then she went downstairs.
The final touches had been given to the long supper-table. Nancy was right; there were pails full of ice under the sideboard.
“I am so thirsty, Walter; will you give me some ice?” said Augusta.
The man helped her to a strawberry ice, which she ate greedily. “Now I will have something to drink,” she said; “iced champagne—anything.”
There was no iced champagne, but iced claret-cup was forthcoming, and Augusta drank it, declaring to herself that she felt vastly better. She then went out on the lawn.
There she was met by Uncle Peter in his evening-dress, and soon afterwards the three girls joined them.
Nancy looked just as sweet as the genie thought she would when he selected her dress. Her face was pale beside the flaming colour which painted Augusta’s cheeks, but—there was no doubt about it—the little girl possessed the rarer sort of beauty. Nancy’s was of the spiritual order, filling her eyes with sadness and sympathy, and making the expression of her little face unworldly and high in tone.
Never had Augusta looked so well as she did that night. She danced quite beautifully, and was really a brilliant young mistress of the ceremonies. Many were the admiring glances cast at her, and loud the admiration she evoked. For the time being Augusta was unselfish. She thought of the comfort and pleasure of her guests. She managed to make the awkward ones feel at ease, and the shy ones feel at home; at the same time she kept the too forward children in order—in short, she was invaluable.
Uncle Peter was especially struck both by her conduct and her appearance.
“She really is a fine girl,” he said to himself. “There is something wonderfully taking about her to-night; and how good she is, and self-forgetful! I shall have more pleasure than I had the least idea of a few hours ago in presenting her with the Royal Cross.”
As these thoughts came to him, he observed that Augusta was standing where the full draught of the open door blew upon her thin evening-dress. She shivered, and sank down on the nearest chair.
Captain Richmond immediately went to her side.
“Augusta,” he said, “have you a dance to spare for me? You haven’t given me one yet.”
“I can give you the present one,” she replied at once, “if you will sit it out with me.”
“With pleasure! Where shall we go? You are in a fearful draught just here, and you look positively cold.”
“I am shivering,” replied Augusta. “Let us go to the conservatory.”
They went there. The conservatory was too hot for many people on this summer’s night, and was comparatively empty. Augusta sank down on a seat.
“I will get you a wrap,” said the Captain. “You ought not to feel cold on a night like this.”
“Oh, I am quite all right,” she answered. “Don’t leave me; let us sit down and talk. You are very fond of Nancy, are you not?”
“Of course; we all are,” he replied.
“I should like to say——” stammered Augusta.
“What, my dear?”
She paused and looked full at her questioner.
“This,” she said: “you know I am not an especially nice girl, but I can admire goodness when I see it in others. Now, no one was ever half so good as Nancy; and even if appearances seem to have been against her, she was far and away the best of us all.—Oh, what am I saying? What utter nonsense am I talking? Will you take me back to the ballroom, please? I would not miss the next waltz for anything.”
“I will take you back when you have explained your last words.”
“There is nothing to explain—nothing at all. I spoke quite at random. Dear little Nancy! I am as fond of her as you are.”
“Listen, Augusta,” said the Captain. “I didn’t mean to confide in you, but I will. You know of the little ceremony which is to take place to-night when the dance is over. We are to go into the inner drawing-room, and there it will be decided, from what I shall read aloud out of the orderly-book, which of you four girls is to receive the Royal Cross.”
“Of course; I know that,” answered Augusta.
“Yes; but listen. There is an entry in the orderly-book against Nancy’s name which puts her out of the running.”
“Puts her out of the running!” whispered Augusta. Her very lips were white.
Captain Richmond’s eyes seemed like gimlets piercing into her soul.
“There is a charge against Nancy which, made against any child, would condemn her—condemn her so utterly that one could not think of her as a winner of that great prize which means nobleness of conduct, valour, and all the rest. Augusta, you will all know soon, but it does not matter my telling you an hour or so before the others. Nancy Esterleigh is charged withcruelty. Can you, Gussie, help me to throw light upon, in her case, such an unnatural accusation?”
There was a wild beating in Augusta’s ears; her head ached so terribly that she was almost giddy, and a cold chill ran down her back. She turned aside and plucked a geranium blossom from a great flowering bush near by.
“Can you?” said the Captain again.
“No. How is it possible? The accusation has astonished me.”
“There is also that curious thing which happened with regard to her bird. Can you throw any light upon that?”
“No—no; a thousand times no. What do you take me for? Do you think I would let little Nancy sufferifI could help her?”
“Of course not,” said the Captain coldly. “I think the dance has come to an end. May I take you back to the ballroom?”
For the rest of that evening Augusta was not still for a single moment. When she was not dancing she was walking about. Her laugh could be heard gay, almost shrill. Her cheeks wore pink with the flush of fever, which those who saw her mistook for health. She was far and away the most successful girl at the dance. Even Nancy, beautiful little girl as she was, and lovely as she looked in the new frock, was not to be compared with her.
But all good things, as well as bad things, come to an end, and by-and-by the ball was over. The party broke up; the young folk put on their wraps, said good-bye to their hosts, and left Fairleigh. The last sound of the last carriage-wheel died away. The four girls, Miss Roy, and Captain Richmond faced each other. It was on the stroke of midnight.
“How tired you all look!” said Miss Roy. “Shall we defer the further ceremony until to-morrow?”
“No,” said Captain Richmond; “this is the appointed day. Come at once, all of you.”
The servants were rushing about, locking up and putting things in order. Captain Richmond conducted his party to the front drawing-room, and turned the key in the lock. The electric light made the room bright as day. The windows looking on to the lawn were wide open. When they all entered the room, Captain Richmond opened the drawer, the lock of which had been injured by Augusta, and took the orderly-book out. At the same moment he put his hand in his pocket and produced a small morocco case, which he laid on the table.
“Now, my little soldiers,” he said, “the crucial moment of our campaign has arrived. You have been under my command, and have also been disciplined by my good ally, Sergeant Roy, for the last few months; and, on the whole, I trust you feel better, morally and physically, for the soldier’s life.”
“Oh yes, indeed!” cried Nora. “We like it awfully. I hope we are not going to cease to be soldiers to-night, Uncle Pete.”
“Certainly not, Nora. In one sense you must always be soldiers, but whether you remain in my battalion will depend a great deal on yourselves. But now to business; you are tired, and we must not linger. This book gives, in a condensed form, the history of your lives from the moment you enlisted under my banner. Now then, soldiers of the True Blue, we will see what it says about you.”
Here Captain Richmond opened the book. He looked quickly down the pages which related to Nora’s life.
“An excellent report on the whole, Nora,” he said when he had finished, “but conduct not immaculate—a few errors, dear, in the form of untidy rooms, lost property, and forgotten duties. Nothing exactly serious, but”——
The Captain’s “but” was emphatic. Nora turned from pink to white.
“I knew it,” she said to her sister. “I never, never expected”——
“Hush!” said Kitty, “Uncle Pete is speaking again.”
“Kitty, on the whole you have done better than Nora. Your industry has been unparalleled, and, in short, I think you are deserving of a prize. If you hadn’t been so inveterately careless, my little girl, there might have been a chance of my giving youtheprize. But see here, Kit—here, and here, and here.” The Captain laid his finger against certain marks in Kitty’s record.
Kitty coloured and stepped back.
“I deserve them all,” she said.
“Well, that is something worth hearing,” he answered with heartiness, “for when we know our faults, then is the time when we begin to mend them.—Now then, Nancy.”
Nancy was standing by an open window. Her face looked serene and quiet. She did not for a moment think that she would win the Royal Cross; but, at the same time, she did not think there could be any grave charge chronicled against her name.
“Nancy, I have something sad to say to you,” said the Captain, going forward and taking her hand in his as he spoke. “Even still I think there must be some explanation.”
“What—what,” cried Nancy—“what do you mean?”
“Don’t tremble so, Nancy. Listen. Your conduct has been irreproachable, and your struggle to maintain a high level in morals and intellect very great; but, alas! on one occasion you fell—a good deep fall, Nancy—you fell from a high ladder.”
“I fell from a height! Oh, what do you mean?”
She looked wildly at Augusta, who glanced at Miss Roy. Miss Roy turned aside; Augusta’s bold eyes were fixed upon her face.
“I have fallen from a height! When? Where? How?”
“Here,” said the Captain; “see for yourself. Every one need not know, but you must know; read for yourself.”
Dizzily the little girl bent her head. For a moment she could see nothing. Then she read, as though they were written in letters of fire, the dreadful words, “Guilty of cruelty.”
She read this aloud and flung back her head.
“ThatI have never been guilty of. It is alie; it is a black lie. I have never been cruel in all my life.”
The Captain sighed.
“It is in Aunt Jessie’s own handwriting. I am afraid there is no refuge from this storm. You had better not add to”——
“Oh! don’t say any more; I cannot—cannot stand it,” said the child.
She was about to rush through the open window, when Augusta stepped forward and held her hand.
“Be quiet,” she said—“for my sake.”
Again the extraordinary influence which Augusta had over the little girl made itself felt. Nancy stood still, allowing Augusta to hold her hand within her own hot clasp; she partly turned her back upon the others.
“There is no bad mark against your name, Augusta,” said the Captain after a pause, his voice slightly shaking. “All through these months of training and discipline your conduct has been admirable. You have been industrious; you have been courteous; you have been kind. You have, I doubt not, been also unselfish; therefore I proclaim you the happy possessor of the Royal Cross. Come here and let me fasten it round your neck.”
Augusta came totteringly forward. All eyes were fixed upon her; Nancy’s, no longer gentle, but fierce and defiant, were raised to watch her face, but Augusta would not now look at Nancy.
The Royal Cross was made of deep-blue enamel, inlaid in rich silver. It was in the shape of an Irish cross, and was very beautiful. On it were engraved the words,For valour in the fight. The cross was attached to a narrow silver chain. Captain Richmond slipped the chain round Augusta’s throat, and the deep-blue cross shone on her bare white neck.
Just then, before any one could speak, there came on the air the sound of a tolling bell. It was distinctly audible. It tolled three times and then stopped, three times again and then stopped, and then three times once more.
“Some woman has died, poor thing!” said the Captain.
Then the solemn notes rang out again. They sounded sixteen times.
Augusta uttered a cry.
“It is Connie!” she said. “Oh, what shall I do?”
The next instant the wretched girl had fallen in a dead faint on the floor.