IMPRISONMENT
"Nancy Weston Corner," exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "where have you been all
day? Who was that you were talking to up there at the house? I saw you
coming away."
"It was my Aunt Helen," replied Nan, stoutly.
"And have you been up there hobnobbing with her and that wicked old
mother of hers?"
"I reckon I've a right to hobnob with my own aunt," retorted Nan,
immediately up in arms, "and as for my grandmother, she isn't there and
she'd not be wicked if she were."
"Much you know about it. If you did know, you'd have more pride than to
insinuate yourself into a household where you are not wanted."
"I do know all about it, and I didn't insinuate myself; I was invited.
Aunt Helen invited me."
"When did you see her? How did she find you out?"
"I saw her weeks ago and my mother knew all about it. She did not
object in the least."
"That's a likely story."
Nan's eyes flashed. "I'll thank you to believe, Miss Sarah Elizabeth
Dent, that I don't tell stories."
"Don't you speak to me in that way," returned Aunt Sarah angrily.
"March yourself home. You know as well as you're alive that neither
your mother nor I ever cross the brook and that you are not allowed to
do it either."
Nan wrenched her shoulder from Aunt Sarah's grasp. "I don't care
anything about what you do," she said, rebelliously; "my mother knows I
go to my grandmother's house, so there."
"We'll see about this," said Aunt Sarah. "Not a step do you go from the
house till I have word from your mother. I'd be ashamed to be beholden
to them for so much as a crust of bread, and to let them have the
chance to patronize you after all that is past is more than my family
pride will allow. You knew perfectly well I would never give my consent
to your going there and you sneaked off without so much as a word to
any one and were gone all day so that I worried----"
"I don't see why you worried," Nan interrupted. "I am often gone all
day."
"Don't contradict me," said Aunt Sarah severely. "There is one thing I
will not stand from servants and children and that is impertinence. You
can go to my room and stay there till I can inquire into this. I'll
sleep with Mary Lee. You don't cross the threshold of that room till
your mother says so."
Nan's indignation by this time had risen to its greatest height. If
she were to be punished for one impertinence, why not for more? So she
turned and said: "You needn't touch me; I'll go. But I'll tell you one
thing; that I don't believe my grandmother is half as wicked as you
are and she'd not treat me this way no matter what. If I do go to your
room I shall ask the Lord to bless her in her down-sittings and her
up-risings just the same. You can write to my mother if you want to,
and ask her if I did wrong to go to see my Aunt Helen. I know what she
will say and I'll ask her if I can't stay there altogether till she
comes back. They wouldn't call me a story-teller and they'd treat me
better than you do. They are nearer kin anyhow."
Having delivered herself of this indignant speech, Nan took to her
heels, reached the house, ran to her aunt's room and slammed the door
after her, then she burst into tears of rage. Never before had her
temper brought her to the making of such remarks to Aunt Sarah. They
had had their little tiffs but such anger on both sides had never been
displayed.
If there was one subject above another upon which Miss Sarah was
excitable, it was the Corner family. She resented to the very core
of her being the elder Mrs. Corner's neglect of her son's family,
and that Nan should deliberately make overtures aroused all her
indignation. Nan could have said nothing to enrage her more than to
compare her unfavorably with Mrs. Corner, senior. So there was open war
between them and Nan might well feel that she had gone too far.
However, the girl was more aggrieved and angry than sorry, and was
specially annoyed that she had been sent to her aunt's room; that
seemed to her a needless severity, for what harm would there be in
allowing her to occupy the room she shared with her sisters? But it was
some satisfaction, Nan reflected, that her aunt was punishing herself
likewise, for she disliked a bedfellow.
It was not long before Jack's pattering feet were heard upon the stair
and presently she burst into the larger room calling: "Nannie, Nannie,
where are you?"
"Here," answered Nan in a depressed voice.
Jack stuck her head in at the door. "What you in here for, Nan?" she
asked.
"Aunt Sarah sent me," returned Nan, biting her lip and trying to keep
the tears back.
"Why, what for?"
"Just because I went to Uplands without asking her. Mother did not
object when she was here, and Aunt Helen was there and wanted me." It
was a relief to pour out her grievances if only to Jack.
"A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind," and Jack's own experiences
made her appreciate the situation. Moreover, it seemed the height of
calamity to her that Nan should be punished; Nan, who was the eldest
and who really had a right to read lectures to her younger sisters.
That she should be in disgrace was something to awe and impress one.
"She's a mean old thing," said Jack winding her arms around her
sister's neck. "Who's Aunt Helen, Nannie?"
"Papa's own sister, and she has come back to Uplands. I saw her before
mother went away, but I didn't tell any one but mother. It was a secret
and I couldn't tell. She wants me to come over there as soon as she and
grandmother get back from Washington, and now I can't go for Aunt Sarah
says I must stay here till she hears from mother. She was just furious
with me. They are not her kinsfolk; I don't see why she should meddle.
Aunt Helen will expect me and will wonder why I don't come." And the
tears again started to Nan's eyes.
"I'll go tell her and then she'll know why," said Jack generously.
"And get punished, too. No, ducky dear, I can't have that, but it is
good of you to offer to go. I'll have to think out some way, for if I
am to be shut up here till Aunt Sarah hears from mother, Aunt Helen
must have some word. I don't think I did a thing wrong in going to
see my own aunt, but Aunt Sarah says I have no pride, and that it is
wicked to think of wanting to go over there, but that is just her way
of thinking. It isn't mine at all, and it is horrid, horrid for her
to shut me up as if I were a baby, and to shame me before--before the
boys."
Jack gazed at her in silent sympathy. She understood all about it. Many
and many a time had she passed through just such tribulations. Many
and many a time had she been punished for something in which she could
see no wrong. How many times had her motives been misunderstood, and
how often had she been censured for what seemed to her a praiseworthy
act? Oh, yes, she could readily sympathize with Nan, and because Nan
had more than once helped her out of a difficulty, she would do her
best for her sister. "I'll bring you something to eat," she promised.
"You shan't be fed on bread and water, and I'll tell the boys that Aunt
Sarah is an old witch and is just torturing you."
Nan at that moment felt like heartily endorsing that opinion but she
suddenly remembered that it would never do to undermine Aunt Sarah's
authority over Jack, so she replied rather weakly: "Oh, I suppose it is
all right. She thinks she is doing the best thing because she doesn't
know all about it. When she hears from mother, she will understand.
I don't mind anything so much as disappointing Aunt Helen. I wish
you would find Mary Lee and send her to me," she said with sudden
resolution, feeling that Jack's championship might not serve her as
well as Mary Lee's, for the latter being a calm and more dispassionate
person was usually more convincing, and if Nan could persuade her
that she was a martyr, the boys would be given a proper view of the
situation.
"What do you want Mary Lee for?" asked Jack a little jealously and
because she must always know the whys and wherefores.
"I want to see her before Aunt Sarah does," said Nan with a ghost of a
smile, and Jack departed upon her errand.
It was not long before Mary Lee, all curiosity, made her appearance.
That Aunt Sarah should have exercised her authority in such a decided
manner, and that Nan should have fallen under her displeasure was a
matter of no small moment to each of the four Corners, for who knew
now where the blow might next fall? "Of course," commented Mary Lee,
when Nan's story was told, "it was because you didn't ask Aunt Sarah's
permission, and because you answered her so. And then, I really don't
see, Nan, how you could have been willing to go over there, after all
that has happened. You know how Aunt Sarah feels about it and mother,
too."
"Mother isn't so dead set against our going there," Nan informed her.
"She would like to make up with Aunt Helen, I know she would, and I
know she will say I am to go if I choose."
"Well I shouldn't choose," returned Mary Lee, her head in air. "I don't
see how you can feel so. I shouldn't want to make up with them when
they have treated mother so mean."
"Aunt Helen hasn't. She's always loved us, but she had to stand by her
mother and that was right," persisted Nan. Then in a little superior
way--"You don't understand all the ins and outs of it as I do, Mary
Lee."
"I don't care," returned Mary Lee, immediately on the defensive. "I
think you are very mealy-mouthed and are not showing proper respect to
the family."
"Pooh!" returned Nan. "Just you wait till you hear what mother has to
say."
This confidence in her mother's opinion somewhat altered Mary Lee's
point of view. "Well," she said, "I wouldn't have gone myself, still, I
think Aunt Sarah has no right to punish big girls like us for something
our mother would not scold us for. She ought to wait till she knows for
sure before she ups and makes a prisoner of one of us."
"She'd think she had a right to shut mother up if she did anything Aunt
Sarah disapproved of," said Nan, mournfully. "Tell me, Mary Lee, how
are you going to explain it to the boys?"
"I'll tell them the truth."
"But you can't say there is a family quarrel and that we aren't allowed
to visit our own nearest relations."
"Yes I can. Everybody knows it or suspects it, and we are not the only
ones that have had a family quarrel. _We_ can't help our grandmother's
being a horrid old skinflint."
"Oh!" Nan was about to defend her grandmother vigorously but concluded
to say only: "Maybe she didn't mean to be quite so horrid as she
seemed. When people get mad they say lots of things they don't mean. I
know I do."
"Oh, yes, I know you do," returned Mary Lee, "but a grown-up old woman
ought to do better. I hope you will when you are her age." At which
sisterly reproof Nan had nothing to say. "At all events," Mary Lee
continued, "I'll stand by you, Nan, and I know the boys will, too."
After Mary Lee left her, Nan reviewed the situation. If her Aunt
Sarah's ire cooled she would probably be liberated the next day and
her Aunt Helen would not arrive from Washington till Monday anyhow. On
the other hand, if her Aunt Sarah's anger, instead of cooling should
wax stronger, Nan could not expect to be free till her mother should
be heard from, and that would be in not less than three days; in all
probability it would be four. Nan counted on her fingers: Sunday,
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday; very likely Wednesday, for Aunt Sarah would
hardly have her letter ready before the morning's mail. "I wish she'd
send a telegram," sighed Nan, "but she'll just like to keep me here as
long as she can; I've made her so hopping mad."
Nan's conscience told her that Aunt Sarah did have a right to be more
than usually angry at her impertinence, but she chose to see only her
own side of the case and would admit herself nothing but a martyr. True
to her expectation, no supper was forthcoming and before that hour her
door was securely locked on the other side. She was indeed a prisoner.
In spite of her hearty luncheon, Nan felt the pangs of hunger about
the supper hour. She had a healthy appetite and, as the odor of hot
biscuits stole upward from the kitchen, she realized that hers was no
pleasant predicament. "Old witch aunt! Old witch aunt!" she murmured
under her breath. "I don't love you one bit, so there! You are ungodly
and I wish the ungodly would be overthrown, I do. I wish the peril that
walketh at night would encompass you round about. I don't believe David
had any more troubles than I have, when he wrote his psalms." She sat
gloomily nursing her misery and feeling herself a much abused person
when she was aroused by some one calling softly under her window:
"Nannie, Nannie."
She looked out and there stood Jack. "I've saved my cake for you," she
said. "How shall I get it up to you?"
"I'll let down a string," said Nan promptly. This was a pleasant
diversion and she hunted around energetically till she found in Miss
Sarah's work-basket a spool of strong thread. To the end of this she
fastened an empty spool which she dropped out of the window. Jack
fastened her cake to the string having first wrapped it in a piece
of paper, and Nan drew it up. "You are a darling," she called down.
"I'll do as much for you some time. Can't you get me some biscuits or
something?"
"There aren't any biscuits left to-night. The boys were so hungry and
Phil was here; there's only batter-bread left and that's too soft,"
returned Jack. But here the opening of a door sent her scudding away
and Nan closed her window.
She devoured every crumb of the cake and longed for more. It seemed but
to whet her appetite and she pondered long trying to devise some way
by which she could undertake a foraging expedition. "As if I hadn't a
right to my own mother's food," she said, complainingly. "I'm going to
get it some way."
After a long time given to planning out different schemes Nan at last
hit upon one which she determined to carry out. She would wait till
after every one had gone to bed. She wondered if she could keep awake
till then. She made up her mind that she would, and, after lighting the
lamp, she took a magazine from her aunt's stock of papers and began to
read. She grew very drowsy after awhile, but she did not give up to
sleep. Instead she tried all sorts of steps, making such a noise that
the other children came to see what she was doing.
"What are you up to?" called Mary Lee through the key-hole.
"I'm only amusing myself," returned Nan. "I'm just dancing to keep
awake."
"Why don't you go to bed?" asked Mary Lee.
"Don't want to yet," replied Nan, smiling.
Her lively effort had the effect she wished and she was wide awake even
when Aunt Sarah came up to bed. She waited till she was sure all was
still in the house, putting out her light and watching till the crack
of light coming from the room across the hall was no longer shining
under the door. Then she lighted her own candle and cautiously unlocked
a door leading from the room she was in to the unused wing of the
house. She left the door open and stepped out into the dark empty hall.
It appeared strange and uncanny. A sudden squeak and a scuttling sound
suggested mice, and the whir of wings and the quick swoop of a bat's
wing scared her so that she nearly dropped her candle. The peculiarly
musty smell which comes from a house which has long been shut up
greeted her as she stood for a moment irresolute. Was it worth while to
continue the adventure?
"I just will have something to eat," she decided plucking up courage to
cross the hallway and go down the stairs which led to the lower rooms.
Her heart beat like a trip-hammer as she continued her way, and she
was thankful when she reached the door leading to the occupied rooms.
It was never locked, for the key was lost. Jack had disposed of it in
some mysterious way. This Nan remembered when her eye fell on the key
in the door up-stairs.
Once safe in the living-room, it was easy to find her way into the
kitchen and to the cupboard where she knew she would find any remains
of supper. To her satisfaction she discovered a small pitcher of milk,
a few pieces of bread, a little dish of stewed peaches and a section
of apple pie. These she carried over to the table and sat down to make
a hearty supper. The lateness of the hour, for it was after eleven
o'clock, put an extra edge upon her appetite and she ate heartily,
stopping to wash the dishes and pile them up neatly on the table.
Lady Gray, who occupied the kitchen at night, that she might scare away
any mice, arose from her box and came purring toward her. "I will take
you back with me; you'll be lots of company," said Nan, "and you can
sleep at the foot of my bed; you'll love to do that."
[Illustration: SHE GAVE A BOUND FROM NAN'S ARMS]
She lifted the cat, who put her paws over the girl's shoulder
contentedly. She had been used to this method of being carried about
from the time she was a kitten and was quite satisfied. All went well
till the door of the living-room was closed after them, and Nan was
mounting the stairs on her way back to her room. She was more than half
way up when the sudden appearance of a mouse darting across the hall
was too much for Lady Gray's equanimity. She gave a bound from Nan's
arms, the suddenness of the spring sending the candle to the ground,
and causing Nan to miss her footing on the stair. There was a scream, a
fall, and then all was still while Nan lay huddled up in an unconscious
heap at the foot of the stairway.
[Illustration: CHAPTER X
THE RED CLOTH]