ROSAMUND TO THE RESCUE.
Lady Jane was in the midst of her meditations, and a more confused,
distracted poor woman it would be difficult to find in the length and
breadth of the land, when suddenly she heard a step in the hall, a frank
young voice--not Irene's, but bright and young and full of courage--and
the next instant Rosamund Cunliffe entered the room.
"May I speak to you, Lady Jane?"
James was mournfully removing the remainder of the breakfast. His face
was not improved by the blue-bag, and his expression was that of a
hunted animal. The butler, in high dudgeon, had retired to his own
apartment, where he had locked and barred the door in order to prevent
any pranks of that imp, as he privately styled Irene. The other servants
were tremblingly attending to their duties; but all smelled mischief in
the air.
Two such awful things did not often occur on the same day as the
possible poisoning of Miss Frost and the terrible usage to which
innocent James had been subjected.
"We're none of us safe!" quoth the cook. "It's best to give notice."
"But then wages is so high," said the kitchen-maid. "There ain't a place
like it in the country round--plenty of us, and half our time our own.
What my mother says to me is, 'You must put up with something, Sukey;
and if you hadn't Miss Irene you'd have low wages and 'ard work.' So I
said I'd grin and bear it."
"Well, that's my notion, too," said the cook. "I say over and over,
'I'll grin and bear it;' and when the child comes to me and asks me so
pretty for the most unwholesome food--though nothing, for that matter,
seems to disagree with her--why, I haven't the 'eart to refuse."
"You haven't the courage, you mean," said James, who entered the kitchen
at that moment. "If you had my poor face you'd have something to say."
"Oh, your poor face!" said the cook in an indignant tone. "It'll be well
afore you're twice married. You take note of that."
James left the kitchen in a huff to return to his duties in the
breakfast-room. It was there that Rosamund found him when she burst in
upon Lady Jane.
"I have come to see you. Can I have a talk with you where we can be
alone?" said the girl.
Perhaps in all the world no sight could have been so welcome at that
moment to poor Lady Jane as Rosamund's bright face. The courage in it,
the knowledge that Irene respected and, yes, loved this girl, cheered
her inexpressibly. She was not jealous. The fact was, had she been
jealous, had she felt any very deep mother-love for her orphan child,
things might have been quite different. But her whole heart was absorbed
in memories, and Irene, in consequence, had never given her a true
daughter's affection. But she was terribly perturbed about the naughty
child; and Rosamund looked to her, with her straight carriage, her fine
open face, like a very tower of strength.
"I am in great trouble, my dear. I am very glad to see you. But how is
it that you have got away from school so early?"
"I will tell you all about it. There has been great trouble at
Sunnyside. Poor Jane Denton, my special friend and room-mate, is
dangerously ill with diphtheria."
"Diphtheria!" said Lady Jane, starting back as she spoke. "But is not
that very infectious?"
"I don't think it really is. I mean, of course, that if any one bent
over a person who is ill, that person would be very likely to get it.
Anyhow, all the girls have been sent away. Mrs. Brett, Mrs. Merriman's
sister, has taken them to Dartford to stay with her for the present; and
two trained nurses are coming to look after Jane; and--oh, Lady Jane!
perhaps you won't speak to me again, but I am expelled from the school."
"Expelled from the Merrimans'?" said Lady Jane in a low tone of intense
distress and feeling.
"It is true. They have expelled me--or at least the Professor has. I am
never going back. Now, I want to know whether I am to go to mother at
Brighton, where she is at present, or whether I shall stay with you for
a little, and--and help Irene."
Lady Jane's eyes filled with tears.
"You must tell me all about it. Why are you expelled?"
"It is all on account of Irene. I must tell you that I took a great
fancy to her."
"You did? How sweet of you!" said Lady Jane.
"I know she is very wild and naughty; but there is something lovable
about her, and I think I could manage her. I think she cares for me, so
I wanted to be with her; and I asked the Professor, but the Professor
did not wish it. You see, Lady Jane, I am sorry to hurt you, but Irene
has got quite a bad name in the place. Most of the people are dreadfully
afraid of her. They don't like her. They say she is always up to
mischief."
"Indeed she is. Miss Frost has just gone to see the doctor because the
naughty child made her swallow some repulsive insects instead of her
pills. But--oh, dear!"
"Don't go on, Lady Jane. I think I can guess how exceedingly naughty
Irene is. But, you see, I have taken a great fancy to her in spite of
her naughtiness. Anyhow, on Sunday last I managed to conquer her, which
was something."
"Indeed you did. It was most wonderful! Poor Miss Frost and I were
amazed. We could scarcely contain our astonishment as we watched you."
"Well, now, I must tell you the whole story. The Professor said I was to
have nothing to do with Irene, for if I did he would not allow me to
stay with them; and he begged of me to consider how important it was for
me to stay at the school selected for me by my parents. So I gave him my
word of honor that I wouldn't see Irene or have anything to do with her
for a week. I meant to keep it, of course."
"Your word of honor!" interrupted Lady Jane. "That was very strong, was
it not? Your letter astonished me, for you did not explain anything."
"I could not--it was impossible. At least, I felt so at the time,
although now I don't much care what happens. Anyhow, I fully intended to
keep my word, although at the end of the week I meant to tell Professor
and Mrs. Merriman quite plainly that unless I could see you, who had
been mother's dearest friend, and Irene sometimes, I would ask mother to
remove me from the school. You see, mother is quite reasonable, and when
I explain things to her she does what she can. I sometimes think that is
because she was exceedingly naughty herself when she was a little girl.
Anyhow, that was how matters stood. But last night, when I went to my
room to go to bed--poor Jane had been removed to a room in another part
of the house, as she was so ill--whom should I find in the room but
Irene herself, and"----
"She has told me that part. Now I understand," said Lady Jane.
"I am glad you understand. But I had rather a fight with her. In the end
I lost my temper, but that was owing to Lucy Merriman. Well, this
morning, when it was discovered that Jane--my dear Jane--had such
terribly bad diphtheria, the whole school was scattered on the spot.
Kind Mrs. Brett has taken all the girls, with the exception of myself,
to Dartford. I insisted on taking the Professor aside and telling him
just what had happened, and how I had broken my word of honor. I said I
wouldn't go to Dartford with Mrs. Brett, and he told me if I went to you
I was never to return to the school. So here I am. What do you mean to
do with me?"
Lady Jane sat still, looking very pale and troubled. Rosamund, seeing
that no answer could be expected immediately, sank on the nearest chair.
She was now deadly tired; her night of absolute want of rest, added to
the excitement which she had lived through, was beginning to tell on
her; and, strong as she was, she turned white as death. It was that look
on her face which first roused Lady Jane's attention.
"How cruel I am," she said, "and you your mother's child!"
She got up and rang the bell. The much-afflicted James answered the
summons.
"Get some breakfast immediately for Miss Cunliffe. Tell cook to send in
anything nice and appetizing that she possesses. Not a word to Miss
Irene on the subject whatsoever."
He withdrew, and in a short time a really appetizing breakfast was
placed before the nearly famished girl. Breakfast at Sunnyside that
morning had been a farce, and when Rosamund came down the meal was over.
She had, therefore, not tasted food that day until now. The hot coffee,
the nice fish-cakes, the delicious bread-and-butter, all had their due
effect. She owned that she was hungry, and when she had finished, fresh
courage and energy came into her voice and manner.
"Now, what do you want me to do?" she said. "Please tell me. I have
given up school. I have given up to a certain extent my reputation, for
this will always be brought up against me; and I have come to you to
become Irene's friend, and to stay with you for the present if you want
me. But until I saw your face it did not occur to me that you might
perhaps be afraid--afraid that I might have the seeds of the same
complaint within me as poor Jane Denton. Is that so?"
"She is my only child," said Lady Jane, "and, to tell you the honest
truth, I am afraid."
Rosamund got up restlessly and walked to the window. She had not looked
for this complication.
"I'd have done better to have gone with Mrs. Brett after all," was her
first thought. Then she turned to Lady Jane and said in a determined
voice, "I don't think you ought to fear me, for I'm quite sure there is
no danger. Even if there were, Irene would not have contracted the
disease through me, for she lay for some time last night in Jane's bed."
"Heaven help me!" said Lady Jane.
She wrung her hands, and then got up and also stood by the window.
"It strikes me," she said after a pause, "that God is punishing me more
cruelly than He punishes most people, and I cannot understand it. In any
case, whether this means life or death, that child's present behavior
and present prospects are intolerable. You shall come, Rosamund. I will
take the risk. Come to me, and welcome, only let me have the
satisfaction of knowing that your mother approves."
"Then will you wire to her?" said Rosamund.
"That would be an excellent plan," replied Lady Jane. "I will take your
telegram to the village, for you don't want the servants to see what
you are saying. Write it out at once, and I will take it."
"I have not brought any of my things with me, except just what I am
wearing, so you will have to provide me until mother sends me a boxful
from London. I am sure I am safe, and if--if Irene were to get ill, I
think I should be able to nurse her better than any one else."
Lady Jane suddenly went up to the girl and kissed her.
"You are extraordinary!" she said. "You are brave above the common. I
believe God has sent you. Does Irene know you are here?"
"No; I have not told her."
"Then she needn't know for the present. But where is she?"
"I wish you would write that telegram, Lady Jane. You ought to have
mother's consent. I shall not be happy until it has come."
"At present Irene is supposed to be in the schoolroom. Where she really
is I do not know, poor Miss Frost being absent. Anyhow, I will take this
telegram myself, and ask you to remain quietly in a bedroom in this
house until the reply comes from your mother. Just give me this
promise--that you will not see Irene until I have heard from your
mother."
To this proposition Rosamund was forced to submit. Indeed, she was not
sorry at the prospect of a little rest, for she was beginning to feel
very acutely her adventures of the previous night. Lady Jane wrote the
telegram, ordered a carriage to be sent round, and drove into the
village, a small place, which contained, however, a telegraph office,
about a mile and a half away. Before she went she conducted her young
guest to a beautiful bedroom on the first floor, which she said she
would give her not only for a bedroom but also as part sitting-room. It
was furnished in a style that Rosamund, well off as her parents were,
had never seen before. The room was full of quaint and beautiful things,
and there was a bookcase of delightful books--Kingsley's, Miss Yonge's,
and many other favorite authors.
"Lie down, dear," said Lady Jane. "You look very tired. Forget Irene for
the time. I shall be back before long, and will send your lunch up to
you. We will just have your mother's permission, and then we shall feel
in a straightforward position. She may, of course, wish you to return at
once to her."
"I do not think mother will do that. She is not a frightened sort of
person. Anyhow, you know what I feel about your daughter."
"I do, and God bless you, my love!"
Lady Jane departed, and Rosamund found herself alone in her great room.
She looked around her, uttered a weary sigh, and sank into a chair near
the window.
Presently she heard a scuffling noise and cries outside, in the passage.
She heard the voice of a maid-servant saying, "Oh, Miss Irene! Miss
Irene! don't do it; you oughtn't--you oughtn't!" then a scream, and then
a girl's hurrying footsteps dying away in the distance.
"I wish I could fly out and give Irene a good box on the ears," thought
Rosamund. "I'll soon break her off those horrid tricks. Of course I am
going to stay here, and of course I am going to reform her, and of
course--oh, how strange everything is! I think I'll lock the door. I
don't choose her to come in now until I get mother's consent. Afterwards
all is plain sailing."
Rosamund got up softly and locked the door, not a minute too soon, for
she had scarcely done so before the handle was turned and the voice of
Irene was heard outside crying through the keyhole, "What changeling is
in this room? Which of you housemaids has dared to lock herself in?
Come out! I've got a big spider ready, and"----
But Irene's voice died away for some extraordinary reason, and Rosamund
for the time was left in peace. She drew the chair near the window, took
up Kingsley's _Hypatia_ from the shelf, and tried to interest herself in
a story which always had the deepest fascination for her. But by-and-by
sleep overpowered her young eyes, and she only awakened from it by
hearing a very gentle tap at her door. She went to it and called out,
"Who is there?"
The gentle voice of Lady Jane answered in response:
"I have brought you some lunch, dear."
Rosamund immediately unlocked the door, and received a daintily prepared
little tray, which she took in, Lady Jane following her into the room.
"As soon as the telegram arrives I will let you know. I am very anxious
that your time of servitude should be over. That child seems worse than
ever. I never knew anything like her manners to-day. Three of the
servants have given notice, and even cook was in violent hysterics in
the kitchen, for she found that Irene had put a live toad into the
bread-pan. She said she can stand most things, but that toads are beyond
bearing. The thing foamed at her in a most terrible manner, and the
consequence is, all the bread had to be thrown away, as no one can
possibly attempt to eat it. Really, Rosamund, you will have your hands
full."
"I shall not mind that," said Rosamund. "But has Miss Frost come back?"
"Yes, poor thing! she is lying down. She says she feels that those
dreadful creatures are crawling about inside her. The doctor assures her
that there is nothing to fear, and that they are quite dead; but she
will not believe him. It will be all right when she knows that you are
here. You can do lessons with her, my dear, if your mother consents to
your staying, for she is very highly educated, though she really has no
control over Irene. I trust you may be able to do something with her."
"I will subdue her," said Rosamund. "There is no fear whatever on that
point. Only, don't tell her so, please, for that would put her against
me; and I think at present she has a sort of fancy for me. Do you know,
I am quite hungry, and longing to attack those delicious cutlets."
"Then you shall, dear, and in peace. You had better lock your door
again, for the girl is as suspicious as she is mischievous, and scents
out any fresh person in the house. She says that she has a strong sense
of smell, and knows each person by a sort of delicate perfume which
emanates from them. Really, Rosamund, there are times when I almost
doubt if she is quite human."
"Oh! she imagines all that," said Rosamund in a low tone. "I wouldn't
fret if I were you, Lady Jane. Be sure you let me know when mother's
telegram arrives."
"Yes, dear; I will bring it up here and read it to you. It will probably
not be long now before we get it."
Lady Jane left the room, and Rosamund rebolted the door. Then she sat
down to enjoy her lunch. She had just eaten a mouthful of the cutlet
when she was aroused by a whoop--that familiar whoop which Irene had
given vent to under poor Jane Denton's bed the previous night. Rosamund
turned round, and there was Irene's face pressed against the
window-pane. She had run up a ladder which she had forced one of the
gardeners to bring to the window, and was looking in. Her face was all
wreathed in smiles. She beckoned to Rosamund, who refused, however, to
pay the slightest attention to her. Fortunately the window was shut,
and Rosamund did not suppose that the naughty girl would go to the
extreme of breaking the glass.
She now deliberately turned her back upon Irene, and continued to eat
her cutlets without taking the least notice of her. In vain did Irene
whoop and call out, and sing and shout, all for Rosamund's benefit. At
last she said in a threatening tone, loud enough to pierce through the
shut window, "I will run down the ladder and fetch a hammer, and come up
again and break the window, and get in that way if you don't let me in.
You don't suppose I am going to be conquered in my own house?"
But Rosamund was even with her. In one minute she had gone to the
window, had flung it wide open, and taken both Irene's hands.
"Irene," she said, "you told me you loved me."
There was something in the tones, something in the absence of fear,
which caused Irene to pause; the color faded from her little face,
leaving it very white and almost imploring.
"I do--I do!" she said after a minute's pause.
"Now, do you know what I have done? I have left Sunnyside and have come
over here, and am just waiting for a telegram from mother giving her
consent to my spending a great portion of my time with you. But if you
go for the hammer and come back and break this window I shall go
straight home to mother, whatever she says. Now, you can choose. Go away
now, and behave yourself. It doesn't matter to me what you do. I
sometimes think you are not worth saving."
"Oh, no, I am not," said Irene in a completely new tone. She went
quietly down the ladder. The objectionable ladder itself was removed,
and Rosamund continued her lunch in peace.
Half an hour afterwards the telegram arrived, which was quite cordial in
its tone, giving a hearty consent to Rosamund's remaining for the
present at The Follies; and saying that if all went well Mrs. Cunliffe
herself proposed to pay a visit to Lady Jane within the next fortnight.
In the meantime, owing to the sad circumstances at Sunnyside, she would
send a box of clothes that very day from London for Rosamund's use.
"Now I will go and find Irene," said Rosamund. "You must have perfect
confidence in me, Lady Jane, and if I do things that you do not quite
approve of, you must nevertheless be satisfied that I am dealing with
Irene as I think best. Oh, dear Lady Jane, how tired you look, and how
sad!"
"This is a very sad day for me," said Lady Jane. "It is the anniversary
of my most beloved husband's death. I cannot but feel it; but that child
has no mercy. I am going now to visit his grave, in order to put a cross
of beautiful flowers there. Any other girl would accompany her mother on
such an errand, but of course Irene will not."
Rosamund did not reply for a minute; then she said gently:
"Perhaps she will come with you next year, dear Lady Jane. You cannot
reform a nature like hers in a moment."
Lady Jane kissed Rosamund and left the room; and Rosamund, being
perfectly free to do exactly what she pleased, and being also refreshed
and strengthened by her sleep and her good food, went in search of
Irene.
She soon found her swinging in her favorite attitude in one of the
beech-trees. The moment the girl saw her, she sprang to the ground, ran
to her side, flung her arms round her neck so tightly as almost to
throttle her, and kissed her over and over again.
"Your face looks as if you meant to stay."
"I do mean to stay just as long as you are good."
"Then, gracious me!" said Irene, "that won't be for long; because the
utmost I can be good for is five minutes at a time. You see, I never was
good at all--I never attempted to be--so it didn't enter into my
calculations, and now to suddenly turn into a model of all the virtues
is more than I can do even for your sake."
"I do not expect impossibilities. I only want you to try."
"Well, you are not so precious good yourself."
"I'm not at all good. We'll try to be good together."
"It will be fun our both trying," said Irene, looking at her with a
comical expression. "How are we to begin? Shall we do penance like the
old monks? Do you know, Rosamund"--here Irene linked her thin, almost
steel-like little hand inside Rosamund's arm--"that I am a most
voracious reader? Father was a great collector of books, and when I am
tired of frightening the servants, and terrifying Frosty, and annoying
mother, I spend days at a time in his library swallowing down the
contents of his books. There is no other word for it. So I know odds and
ends of all sorts of things."
"You must know things properly henceforth. But what was that you said
about penance?"
"Do you want us to do penance for our sins? The monks were very fond of
standing out in the cold in their night-shirts. Do you want us both to
do that to-night? It will terrify mother, and the servants will think we
are a pair of ghosts. I should rather enjoy that."
"I don't want anything silly of that sort. Come along now, Irene. The
very first thing you have got to do is to beg Miss Frost's pardon."
"I beg Frosty's pardon! But she is in bed. She says they are running up
and down inside her."
"You know you were exceedingly cruel. It was a very low sort of trick
to play. I can understand a girl being wild and doing all sorts of
things that perhaps she ought not to do, and even neglecting her
lessons; but to terrify a poor, harmless governess! And you have
terrified more than one. You'll have to drop that sort of thing now,
Irene."
"It strikes me you are a poor sort after all," said Irene, gazing at
Rosamund attentively.
"Well, whether I am poor or not, I'm going to stay with you for a bit,
and if you get any better I'll stay on; but if you get no better I shall
go straight home to mother, for you will be hopeless. There now, you
know."
"Oh, it is so delightful to have you! You don't know what you are to me.
The courageous way you speak! I don't believe you'd be a bit afraid if I
put a frog on your neck."
By almost sleight-of-hand Irene suited the deed to the word, for a cold
frog of enormous size suddenly began to crawl along Rosamund's neck.
Rosamund suppressed a shudder, for she would not for the world show the
girl that she loathed frogs; but she took the creature and laid it
gently on the ground.
"That is very silly," she said. "You are not to do it again."
"I am not to do it again?"
"No; not to me or to any one else."
"I thought I'd put a small toad just inside the teapot for James when he
was going to make the tea this afternoon, for it would jump up and
finish that affair of the wasps and spiders that occurred this morning."
"You are not to do it. It is ridiculous; there's neither sense nor fun
nor anything else in it. It is downright, positive cruelty. You make
your mother's life wretched, and you make the servants miserable. As to
poor Miss Frost--oh, you can go to see her or not, just as you please. I
am going into her room now."
"Are you indeed? But why should you take any interest in Frosty?"
"Because you are so unkind to her, and I want her to know that I at
least am going to be her friend."
"Oh, dear, dear Rosamund, I do so earnestly want her to go! She doesn't
suit me a bit. Can't you teach me instead? I'd learn from you."
"I don't know enough. I want to be taught myself. Miss Frost needn't
teach you unless you like, but she shall teach me. I can't give up all
my education even for you. Perhaps you understand that."
"I do--I do; but I am sure you know a great deal more than is good for
you."
"Don't be silly, Irene. Now, I am going to see Miss Frost. You ought to
come with me to beg her pardon; but perhaps when she is well enough to
be up you will do so."
"You won't be long with her, will you?"
"If you will promise to beg her pardon at tea-time I won't stay long."
"I will, for I want us to go out in the boat, and I want to show you my
pony, and to try to get you to ride him. I don't believe you will be
able to conquer him. He'll stand no one but me. His name is Billy Boy,
and I have made him as wild and vicious as ever I could; but he is like
a lamb with me."
"Then you propose that he should throw me, and perhaps kill me? Thank
you very much, Irene."
"Oh, I don't propose that really; only, you see, one must have larks.
One couldn't live without them. I don't think there is anything quite so
larky as frightening people."
"Now, once for all, Irene, if that is your idea of life, I will write
at once to mother and tell her I am coming home."
"No, you won't. I won't let you. I love you. I will try to be a little
bit good just to please you. I will say something to Frosty at tea-time.
Oh! don't ask me any more."
Irene's queer eyes filled suddenly with tears. Rosamund saw that she was
touched.
"Run away and do what you like. I don't want to be long with Miss Frost;
but I am going to her now."
Rosamund entered the house. She was met in the hall by James.
"I am so sorry, James," she said, taking the initiative at once, "that
you were so frightened this morning by Miss Irene. She is a friend of
mine, and I have made up my mind to come and stay here for the present.
Will you please tell the other servants, and remember yourself, that I
shall do my utmost to prevent the sort of things occurring which have
made you all so uncomfortable? I think you will soon see that Miss Irene
has as kind a heart as any other girl."
"I'm sure, miss," said James, almost whimpering, "the trouble I've had
already, and the anxiety and worry, not to speak of the pain, miss. Them
wasps, their sting is very sharp, and even my lady's blue-bag did not
remove them at once. And then the show I am, miss, in this respectable
house! But that is nothing to what poor cook felt when the toad poisoned
the bread. And there was Mary Ann, the second housemaid; Miss Irene
caught her and put two spiders down her back. Mary Ann has such a horror
of spiders as never was! Then, worst of all, there's poor Miss Frost,
such a patient lady, and she has swallowed insects instead of pills.
It's too awful to contemplate."
"It is very bad, but it won't happen again--at least I don't think so,"
said Rosamund. "Now, I want to see Miss Frost. Can you direct me to her
room?"
James took upon himself to perform this office, and in a few minutes'
time Rosamund was knocking at the door of Miss Frost's room. A very
feeble, timid, suffering voice said:
"Who is there?" Then the voice continued, "If it is you, Irene, the door
is bolted, and the blinds are down, and the shutters shut, so even if
you break the glass you cannot get in."
"It is not Irene. It is I, Rosamund Cunliffe. I want most particularly
to see you, Miss Frost."
Whereupon Miss Frost was heard getting out of bed and coming towards the
door. She was a very cadaverous-looking person, about forty years of
age, thin to emaciation, with small, light, frightened-looking eyes, a
long upper lip, and a great many freckles on her face. Her hair was thin
and dark, and was strained back from a lofty forehead. The moment
Rosamund saw her she took her hand.
"Please don't keep the door locked," she said. "And please unbar the
shutters and draw up the blinds, for it is a lovely summer's day, and
Irene won't do you any harm. I want to talk to you. May I?"
"I don't believe, my dear young friend," said Miss Frost, "that I am
long for this world. I feel those dreadful things even now creeping up
and down. The doctor says they are dead; but how can he look inside me?
I know they are alive. I know they are."
"I don't think they could be alive," said Rosamund. "I heard of that
trick being played on some one once before, and nothing whatever
happened, and I can assure you the person is quite well, and when the
fright was got over the whole thing was forgotten."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Oh, I have lived through such a morning of agony!"
"You must forget your agony now."
"But how am I to endure that child?"
"Will you lie down again on your bed and let me talk to you for a minute
or two?"
As Rosamund spoke she took the cold hand of the governess, led her to
the bed, made her lie down, and covered her up. Then she drew a chair
forward, and, still retaining her hand, she began to speak.
"I know quite well all that you would say about Irene; but please don't
say it. I have come here contrary to rules, and at some trouble to
myself, but also with my mother's approval, to be Irene's friend and
guest for a time. You are all very much afraid of her. Yes, you are,
from Lady Jane to the lowest servant in the place, and it is because you
are afraid of her that she is so exceedingly naughty. Now, it so happens
that I am not a scrap afraid of her, therefore I have some influence
over her, and I know positively that she will not play any of her horrid
tricks upon you again. For the moment she does so I shall leave her, and
she doesn't wish me to do that. Therefore you needn't be at all afraid.
What has happened gave you a nasty turn; but there, that's the end of
it! You will get up, won't you, and come down to tea? I think perhaps
Irene will be a little nicer to you. And to-morrow, or the next day, or
whenever we are to begin, I want to know if you will teach me as well as
Irene. I also want us to know other girls, and to have a good time all
round. For Irene is only a young savage at present; but she has a warm
heart, and I do believe that I can touch it."
"My dear," said Miss Frost when Rosamund had done speaking, "may I ask
how old you are?"
"I am fifteen."
"Then you are three years older than the terrible Irene."
"Three years older, and I hope three years wiser."
"A thousand years wiser, my dear--quite a thousand years wiser. You
don't know what I have suffered; and I am not the only one. Her one
object in life when each new governess comes is to get rid of that
governess. But I have a little brother and sister both dependent on me
altogether for their daily bread, and Lady Jane gives me one hundred and
fifty pounds a year, a very large sum for a governess who is not
certificated. I simply daren't give it up. I try to, for I often feel
that I must. Even the children do not seem worth the agonies I undergo.
But then again I struggled on until now."
"You will have no more struggling, and if you teach me as well as Irene
I know mother will pay you something, so your people will be better off
than ever," said Rosamund in her cheerful voice. "Now cheer up. You have
nothing to fear. Try to be courageous, and when you speak to the
servants, get them to be courageous too. You have all let Irene get the
upper hand of you, and it is exceedingly bad for her. Now, I promised to
join her; but you will be with us at tea-time, won't you?"
"I will. You have put great heart into me. What a wonderful girl you
are! When I saw you on Sunday I thought how remarkable you were, and now
that you have spoken I see it more than ever."
"Perhaps you know what has happened at Sunnyside?"
"What is that, dear?"
"My own special friend, Jane Denton, is dangerously ill with diphtheria.
I do not know if she will ever be better."
"Then is there any fear?" said Miss Frost.
"You mean of your taking it?"
"Oh, no, I don't mind for myself a scrap. I am not afraid of illness,
and I had diphtheria when I was young, and people don't often have it
twice; but it is that child--that queer child."
"I cannot give it to her," said Rosamund. "If she takes it she must have
contracted the infection herself, owing to----But there, I won't say any
more. Let us hope for the best. I must go to her now, however."