At last the meal came to an end. While Phyllis was eating it Miss Fleet
sat near the fire.
She read, or pretended to read, the evening newspaper which had just
been sent to the Hall.
Presently Phyllis got up, uttering a low sigh.
"Have you said your grace?" said Miss Fleet.
"Yes," replied Phyllis. "I said it in a whisper. What else do you want
me to do?"
"_I_ wish you to listen to me--to be attentive and no longer
impertinent. I'm tired of punishing you. You have been a very naughty
girl, but I am willing to forgive you and to restore you to my favour,
provided you do what I wish."
"What is that?" asked Phyllis in a guarded voice.
"Come here, Phyllis."
Miss Fleet drew the little girl towards her. Her voice had softened;
some of the severity had left it.
Phyllis was the kind of child to be easily touched by kindness--no one
could drive her, but affection and love could always guide her. Miss
Fleet almost caressed the small hand which Phyllis stole into hers.
"I hate not being friends with you," she said. "You have been my
constant care and my constant pleasure for the last three years. Why do
you suddenly turn against me?"
"I don't," said Phyllis. "I have always liked you--very well, that is;
but you don't understand me."
"I'm not going to argue with you, Phyllis. You are only a little girl
of twelve years old. I am three times your age."
"Three times twelve are thirty-six," said Phyllis under her breath.
"She never let out her age to me before."
The fact that she knew Miss Fleet's enormously great age gave her a
slight feeling of satisfaction.
"Yes," she said aloud.
"I must be kind to the poor thing; she is so very aged," was her inward
thought.
"Yes, I quite like you when you talk softly," she said. "Go on,
please."
"I cannot argue with you; I can but give you my opinion. You behaved
badly to-day--so badly, so disgracefully that I cannot bring myself to
speak of it. You did this in your father's absence--which made it, let
me tell you, ten times worse; but I will forgive you and not tell your
father if you make me a promise."
"What, Miss Fleet?"
"Wait one moment. You don't care to be always in this room, do you?"
"I hate being in this room. I hate being punished. I hate--I hate--I
hate you to be cold to me. Do be nice to me again, Fleetie, for I'm
quite too awfully miserable just now;" and the little girl flung her
arms round Miss Fleet's neck and burst into bitter weeping.
After all, Josephine Fleet did love her wayward little charge. She
kissed her once or twice and patted her on her arm, and then she said:
"Now for our conditions. I forgive and you promise."
"I promise!" said Phyllis.
"Yes."
"And if I promise, you'll never tell Father?"
"I will never tell your father."
"And you will let me go into all the rooms and play, and ride my pony,
and do everything just as I did before--just as I did before?"
"Just as you did before."
"Then, of course, I'll promise, darling Fleetie. There is no doubt
about it. If you'll let me do as I did before, I'll promise. Is it to
learn a lot of history? It is to do my horrid--Is it? Is it?"
"It is none of these things, Phyllis. It is this. You must give me
your solemn word, as a lady, that you will not speak or have any
intercourse with the Rectory children until your father's return."
"What!" said Phyllis.
All the light went out of her small face and all the gladness from her
eyes.
"I didn't think you'd be so mean, Fleetie," she said, and she went right
away to the other end of the room and stood with her back to her
governess.
Miss Fleet glanced with a queer sort of longing towards the little
figure.
The little figure at the other end of the room looked pathetic; it
looked lonely. Miss Fleet remembered certain words of the Rector's:
"I cannot see why you should object to the children playing with each
other. Squire Harringay did not object; on the contrary, he was glad."
"Yes, yes," thought the governess; "and I would have allowed it in
moderation, and doubtless it can be arranged in moderation when the
Squire comes back. But Phyllis did wrong, and she must be punished in
such a way as to make her feel it. I am forced to get this promise from
her. I can take nothing else."
But all the time while Miss Fleet thought, she kept watching the little
figure, and presently she saw the shoulders slightly heave, and she
guessed that Phyllis was crying.
"It is very hard; I hate myself," thought the governess. "But I must, I
must make her feel it."
It was just at that moment that Phyllis wheeled right round and came up
to Miss Fleet and said quietly:
"If I cannot see them, may I write to them to say why?"
"I will write to them and give the reason," said Miss Fleet.
"May I not write my own self to Ralph, please, or to--to Susie?"
"I will write to them," said Miss Fleet gently.
Phyllis stood quite silent for a moment. Once again her shoulders
worked suspiciously, and Miss Fleet noticed that her little chest
heaved, but she kept back her tears.
"There's Susie," she said after a pause; "she would so like the
baby-house, and the rocking-horse that I never ride on because I have no
playmates, you know. May they be sent over to the Rectory? I promised
that she should have them. Need I wait till Father comes back to keep
my promise?"
"You had no right to make the promise."
"But mayn't they go? Please say yes."
"Not until your father returns."
Phyllis now stood, very calm and despairing, close to Miss Fleet.
"You want me to love you, but you make it very hard for me to do so,"
she said gently. "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll promise for two
whole days. If Father isn't back at the end of two whole days, my
promise is at an end. I don't give you my word, as a lady, after two
whole days. That is all. I will not make any promise after that, not
for anybody."