A SORT OF WITCH.
Hughie was a dictatorial, troublesome sort of boy; but Rosamund took him
in hand from the first, and kept him somewhat in order. Miss Frost,
looking very patient, followed her brother and sister and Irene about.
Once little Agnes was all alone in a bower, where she was waiting for
Irene to come to her. This was Rosamund's opportunity. She went straight
up to the child, took one of her hands, and sat down near her.
"I am so glad, Agnes," she said, "that you love Irene. But now I want to
say something to you."
"I love you, too," said little Agnes, who was the gentlest and most
affectionate creature under the sun.
"And don't you love your own dear sister Emily?"
"Oh, of course I do! I love her very much indeed."
"Then I wish you would go and tell her so, for she is sitting not far
away crying very bitterly."
"Crying?" said little Agnes.
"Yes--because you haven't been with her at all to-day, and hardly
yesterday; she can't make out what it means, and it troubles her a good
deal. Do go and put your arms round her neck, and tell her that although
you love Irene, you can never love any one like you do her."
"But I think," said little Agnes, who was the soul of truth, "that I do
love Irene quite as much as I love Emily."
"Then you oughtn't to, for Miss Frost is your own sister, and she has
done so much for you--far more than you can in the least understand at
present."
"Anyhow, I do love her very much, and I'll tell her so," said the little
girl.
She flew away from Rosamund, who sat down on the seat which Agnes had
occupied. She had not been there more than a minute or two before Irene,
carrying a basket of fruit in her hand, entered in great excitement.
"Where is Agnes? Where is my dear little pet? Oh, you are there,
Rosamund!"
"Yes, Irene, and I hope you are glad to see me."
"Of course I am, Rosamund. I am always that. But where is my little
Agnes? I want her to have some of these ripe plums. She is so fond of
plums."
"Well, she oughtn't to have any more, for she ate too many yesterday,
and Miss Frost says they don't agree with her."
"As if Frosty knew anything about the matter! I am the person who is
going to take care of Agnes in the future. I have settled all that with
myself. As to mother, she will do as I wish. I am going to adopt Agnes;
I call her my adopted child."
"But that is rather ridiculous, isn't it, Irene, seeing that you are
almost the same age?"
"There are two years between us; but then, Agnes is so very small, so
_petite_ in every way, and so--so sweet and so defenseless."
"I always thought you did not care for defenseless people, nor for weak
people, nor timid people."
"Oh, I like her sort. You see, she believed in me from the first."
"I hope she always will," said Rosamund.
"Well, where is she now?"
"She has gone to talk to her sister. You cannot expect her to give up
all her time to you."
"But indeed that is just what I do. What can she have in common with
that tiresome, frowzy old Frosty?"
"Only she happens to be her sister, and that tiresome, frowzy old
Frosty, as you call her, has looked after her since she was a little
child, when her mother died."
"Oh, yes, I've heard all that story. I suppose it's very noble; but, all
the same, little Agnes is fonder of me."
"You have no right to steal her heart from Miss Frost."
"Rosamund, I don't know what to make of you. You always have a great
influence over me; but what is the matter now? Do you want to take Agnes
away from me? If you wish to, you may; but I shall follow, for I don't
intend to give her up, and nobody living will make me. I am sure you can
do what you like with that detestable Hugh, and Frosty can go for her
holidays. It would be a very good idea. Agnes and I would be quite happy
at The Follies, with dear mother, of course, to take care of us."
Just at that moment there came a whoop and a spring, and Hughie, his red
face redder than ever, his freckles more marked, his carroty hair
sticking up all over his head, and his light-blue eyes wearing a most
mischievous expression, entered the little arbor and sat down at one
side of Irene.
"I say," he remarked, "I want to ask you a direct question."
"What is that?" she said, moving slightly away from him.
He edged a little nearer.
"Is it true that you gave sister Emily horrid live things that curled
themselves up into so-called pills, and she swallowed them and nearly
died afterward? Is it true--tell me?"
"It's quite true," said Irene, all the dancing wickedness coming to the
front at once, and her eyes blazing with anger.
"Then you are a really wicked girl. You might have been had up by the
police and put into prison."
"And what if I had, you wicked boy--for you are about the wickedest and
rudest boy I have ever come across? Much do I care! I wanted her to go,
and I thought that would be a good way to get rid of her."
"Oh, that's all right!" said Hugh. "I'll just go and tell Agnes. I'll
tell her that you'll do things of that sort to her, that you are a sort
of witch, and will show your true colors before long. Now, what is the
matter?"
"You sha'n't tell her. You daren't!" said Irene.
She caught both his hands as though in a vise. He was amazed at their
strength, also at the beautiful, extraordinary passion of her face.
Rosamund started up to interfere.
"Come, children," she said, "don't quarrel. Hughie, you do extremely
wrong to speak in that tone to Irene. Come and have a walk with me. You
know I am going away to-morrow, and I wouldn't have asked Irene to
invite you both to this beautiful house, and to give you such a splendid
holiday, if I hadn't thought you were going to be quite good. Ah! here
comes Agnes."
Agnes was seen flying across the lawn. She was wearing a pretty white
dress, and her whole dainty little figure, with her light hair flying
wildly behind her, made her a most charming little picture. She dashed
up to Irene, flung her arms round her neck, and kissed her passionately.
"Oh," she said, "it seemed hours while I was away from you! I was with
Emily, and Emily says that perhaps I had better not eat plums--at least
not more than one or two."
"Then I'll pick out the ripest in the basket for you," said Irene, her
voice trembling.
"You take care there are no--no live things"----
"Hush, Hughie! Come with me," said Rosamund; and she pulled the
reluctant boy out of the summer-house.
"Now, Hughie," she said when she had got him quite by herself, "I want
to know, in the first instance, exactly how old you are."
"I was fourteen my last birthday," he said, drawing himself up to his
full height.
"You suppose yourself to be a good bit of a man, don't you?"
"Well, I'm not far from being a man, am I, Rosamund? You don't mind my
calling you Rosamund, do you?"
"You may call me anything in the world you please."
"Well, I'll call you Rosamund, because all the rest of the people here
do; but by-and-by perhaps I shall be behind a counter, and you will come
in and ask for stationery--I want particularly to go into a stationer's
shop--or any other article you fancy, and I'll have to say, 'Yes, miss.'
That is, unless you're married. You'll be much too grand to notice me in
those days, won't you, Rosamund?"
Rosamund turned and looked calmly at him.
"Hugh," she said, "I'll never be too grand to take notice of you if you
turn out the sort of boy I expect you to be."
"And what is that?" he asked, touched and astonished at her words.
"Well, now, I want you to undertake a rather difficult office."
"Oh, I say, and these are holidays!" grumbled the boy.
"Nevertheless, even in holidays a true boy, who means to be a true man,
will act according to the best of his abilities; and what I want you to
do now is to help and not hinder me with regard to Irene."
"That horrid, spiteful, handsome little witch?" said the boy.
"You admit that she is handsome?"
"I should rather think so. I never saw such eyes or such a face. But
she's a horrid little thing for all that. Last night I was in the
pantry, and James told me a lot of things about her; how she used to get
wasps to sting him, and how she frightened away such a lot of servants
from the place with leeches and toads, and all sorts of horrors. He said
he didn't believe she was a girl at all, but that she was a sort of
half-witch; and she is having that effect now upon our dear little
Agnes, for Agnes doesn't care a bit for any one but her. She likes to
spend all her time with her. She even insists on sleeping in her bed at
night, and poor old Emily never gets a sight of Agnes, nor do I; and if
it weren't for you I don't know where we'd be."
"Well, I'm leaving to-morrow," said Rosamund; "and it is just because I
am leaving--and I am forced to go--that I intend to put a trust in you.
I intend to tell you all about Irene--there is no other way to manage a
boy like you; but I intend to tell you in such a way that you must give
me your word of honor you will never repeat what I say."
"You have a queer way of talking," replied the lad, "and you do look
wonderfully handsome, and unlike any other girl I ever saw. Little Aggie
is a poor sort, you know. She is very sweet and pretty, and gentle and
easily influenced."
"She is a dear little soul," said Rosamund, "and I don't wonder that you
and your sister love her so much."
"Of course we love her; that is just what I say to Em. Of course we
love her, and I don't think it is right of Emily to spend all her time
crying. Her eyes are as red as anything. I never saw anything like it;
and whenever she talks to me it is to say something of the way Agnes has
forsaken her; and Agnes is quite unsuspicious."
"That is just it, and I want her to be unsuspicious. You must be kind to
poor Frosty--forgive me, we always call her Frosty; but at the same time
she must exercise the wonderful and healing influence she possesses over
Irene."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You see, Irene is a very fine character"----
Hugh whistled.
"A fine character!" he said. "What about the toad in the bread-pan? What
about the horrid live things she made poor dear Emily swallow? If Em had
died, she'd have been had up for murder."
"It was a cruel and wicked thing to do; but I am sure she would never do
it now--that is, unless you goaded her to it. You are in the mood to
torment her to do wrong things. It is exceedingly wicked of you, and I
tell you plainly I don't know what I shall do if all my hard work of the
whole summer will be overthrown, unless you make me a solemn promise
before I leave."
"Well, it is good of you to trust me," said Hughie, softening in spite
of himself, for such a bold, handsome, independent girl as Rosamund had
never addressed him in such a way before; and, like all lads, he was
susceptible to a girl's influence.
"I am at a horrid common school," he grumbled. "All the fellows there
say horrid common things; but it is the best that poor old Em can
afford, and I ought to be content. Some day I'll be a tradesman--not a
gentleman. But now Aggie and I are both staying here with gentry of the
first class in every way, and you say you'll be my friend even if I am a
tradesman?"
"My hand on it," said Rosamund suddenly; and she held out her little
white hand, which the boy grasped heartily.
"Now then," she continued, "I am going to tell you my story."
She did tell it, very simply, describing her influence from the very
first over Irene, and contriving to put Irene's character into
altogether a new light to the boy.
"There is the making of a splendid woman in her," she said; "but if you
taunt her now you will undo all the good that I have done. Instead of
doing this, suppose you take my place when I am away, and help Frosty
not to be jealous, and help Irene and Agnes to enjoy themselves. Just
show Irene that you are not a scrap afraid of her; but at the same time
do not rouse her passions. Will you do this, and for my sake? If so, I
do really believe all will be well."
Hughie was amazed at his own sensations.
"I declare," he said, "you'd turn any fellow into a brick. If there were
more girls like you in the world I shouldn't be surprised if there were
a lot of good men too; and the world could be oiled on all its hinges,
so to speak, so that it wouldn't creak and jump and fret one at every
turn as it seems to have an unpleasant habit of doing at the present
moment."
"Will you promise, Hughie? I think you are the sort of boy who would
keep your word at any and all times."
Hughie mumbled something that Rosamund took for a promise. In truth, he
could not raise his eyes to her face, for they were full of tears, which
he was ashamed to show.
"I wish you'd let me go away all by myself for a minute. I'll come back
before lunch," he said. "You make a fellow feel like a gentleman, and
that's the truth of it."
Then he dashed out of sight among the flowers.
Rosamund's last day at The Follies was spent in trying to soothe all
parties. She tried to make Miss Frost rather less miserable. Hughie kept
a good deal out of sight. Irene was so absorbed with Agnes--her new toy,
as the servants called the little girl--that she did not even remember
that Rosamund was to leave on the following day.
But when the next morning came, and she saw the carriage arrive at the
door, and perceived Rosamund's trunks being put on the roof, she
suddenly woke to the fact that the strong influence of her life during
the last couple of months had come to a complete end; that Rosamund, the
strong, the vivacious, the daring, the noble, was leaving her. All in a
minute even little Agnes seemed distasteful to the excited girl. She
flew up to Rosamund's side and flung her arms round her neck.
"Oh, you are going! You are going, and what is to become of me without
you?"
Rosamund drew her into a little room leading out of the hall.
"Just one word, Irene," she said. "I know you are very fond of Agnes,
and you are behaving splendidly to her; but you will think of Miss Frost
and of Hughie. You will write to me once or twice a week, and afterward,
you know, it is settled that you and I are both to meet at the
Merrimans', where we are to spend one term together."
"Oh, dear, how am I to endure that?"
"You will endure it when I give you a piece of news. It is arranged that
little Agnes comes also, and"----
"Oh, have you settled that, you darling?"
"Partly. And Miss Frost comes, too, as they want another governess; and
your dear mother, who needs change, will spend the time with one of her
sisters in Scotland. Now you know exactly what is before you, and I must
be off. I trust you, Irene. You won't disappoint me? If I thought you
could, I don't really know what would become of me."