UNDER THE LAUREL BUSH.
Mrs. Willis owned to herself that she was non-plussed; it was quite
impossible to allow Annie to neglect her studies, and yet little Nan's
health was still too precarious to allow her to run the risk of having
the child constantly fretted.
Suddenly a welcome idea occurred to her; she would write at once to Nan's
old nurse, and see if she could come to Lavender House for the remainder
of the present term. Mrs. Willis dispatched her letter that very day, and
by the following evening the nurse was once more in possession of her
much-loved little charge. The habits of her babyhood were too strong for
Nan; she returned to them gladly enough, and though in her heart of
hearts she was still intensely loyal to Annie, she no longer fretted when
she was not with her.
Annie resumed her ordinary work, and though Hester was very cold to her,
several of the other girls in the school frankly confided to their
favorite how much they had missed her, and how glad they were to have her
back with them once more.
Annie found herself at this time in an ever-shifting mood--one moment she
longed intensely for a kiss, and a fervent pardon from Mrs. Willis' lips;
another, she said to herself defiantly she could and would live without
it; one moment the hungry and sorrowful look in Hester's eyes went
straight to Annie's heart, and she wished she might restore her little
treasure whom she had stolen; the next she rejoiced in her strange power
over Nan, and resolved to keep all the love she could get.
In short, Annie was in that condition when she could be easily influenced
for good or evil--she was in that state of weakness when temptation is
least easily resisted.
A few days after the arrival of Nan's nurse Mrs. Willis was obliged
unexpectedly to leave home; a near relative was dangerously ill in
London, and the school-mistress went away in much trouble and anxiety.
Some of her favorite pupils flocked to the front entrance to see their
beloved mistress off. Among the group Cecil stood, and several girls of
the first class; many of the little girls were also present, but Annie
was not among them. Just at the last moment she rushed up breathlessly;
she was tying some starry jasmine and some blue forget-me-nots together,
and as the carriage was moving off she flung the charming bouquet into
her mistress' lap.
Mrs. Willis rewarded her with one of her old looks of confidence and
love; she raised the flowers to her lips and kissed them, and her eyes
smiled on Annie.
"Good-by, dear," she called out; "good-by, all my dear girls; I will try
and be back to-morrow night. Remember, my children, during my absence I
trust you."
The carriage disappeared down the avenue, and the group of girls melted
away. Cecil looked round for Annie, but Annie had been the first to
disappear.
When her mistress had kissed the flowers and smiled at her, Annie darted
into the shrubbery and stood there wiping the fast-falling tears from her
eyes. She was interrupted in this occupation by the sudden cries of two
glad and eager voices, and instantly her hands were taken, and some girls
rather younger than herself began to drag her in the opposite direction
through the shrubbery.
"Come; Annie--come at once, Annie, darling," exclaimed Phyllis and Nora
Raymond. "The basket has come; it's under the thick laurel-tree in the
back avenue. We are all waiting for you; we none of us will open it till
you arrive."
Annie's face, a truly April one, changed as if by magic. The tears dried
on her cheeks; her eyes filled with sunlight; she was all eager for the
coming fun.
"Then we won't lose a moment, Phyllis," she said: "we'll see what that
duck of a Betty has done for us."
The three girls scampered down the back avenue, where they found five of
their companions, among them Susan Drummond, standing in different
attitudes of expectation near a very large and low-growing laurel-tree.
Every one raised a shout when Annie appeared; she was undoubtedly
recognized as queen and leader of the proceedings. She took her post
without an instant's hesitation, and began ordering her willing subjects
about.
"Now, is the coast clear? yes, I think so. Come, Susie, greedy as you
are, you must take your part. You alone of all of us can cackle with the
exact imitation of an old hen: get behind that tree at once and watch the
yard. Don't forget to cackle for your life if you even see the shadow of
a footfall. Nora, my pretty birdie, you must be the thrush for the nonce;
here, take your post, watch the lawn and the front avenue. Now then,
girls, the rest of us can see what spoils Betty has provided for us."
The basket was dragged from its hiding-place, and longing faces peered
eagerly and greedily into its contents.
"Oh, oh! I say, cherries! and what a lot! Good Betty! dear, darling Betty!
you gathered those from your own trees, and they are as ripe as your
apple-blossom cheeks! Now then, what next? I do declare, meringues! Betty
knew my weakness. Twelve meringues--that is one and a half apiece; Susan
Drummond sha'n't have more than her share. Meringues and cheesecakes
and--tartlets--oh! oh! what a duck Betty is! A plum-cake--good, excellent
Betty, she deserves to be canonized! What have we here? Roast
chickens--better and better! What is in this parcel? Slices of ham; Betty
knew she dare not show her face again if she forgot the ham. Knives and
forks, spoons--fresh rolls--salt and pepper, and a dozen bottles of
ginger-beer, and a little corkscrew in case we want it."
These various exclamations came from many lips. The contents of the
basket were carefully and tenderly replaced, the lid was fastened down,
and it was once more consigned to its hiding place under the thick boughs
of the laurel.
Not a moment too soon, for just at this instant Susan cackled fiercely,
and the little group withdrew, Annie first whispering:
"At twelve to-night, then, girls--oh, yes, I have managed the key."