CHANGE OF A SOVEREIGN
When Rosy arrived on the following evening she looked very much
excited; her eyes were bright, and there was a lot of color in her
cheeks. Beside her Christian looked pale and scarcely pretty at all.
The little girl sat down on a stool near the fire in the nursery
and warmed her hands, chatted loud and long to nurse, and laughed
continually.
"One would think," said nurse after a pause, "that you did not love
Miss Christian one little bit. I never saw anyone in such riotous
spirits, and I must say it aint becoming."
"Oh, don't I love Christian?" said Rosy. "Don't you go and draw wrong
conclusions, great-aunt. I love her better nor anybody else--there!"
"Well, child, that's all right. Here comes Miss Christian. Now
listen, Rosy. You are not to stay long; you are to go away in about
half-an-hour, for my young lady looks very peaky."
Christian sat by the fire. Nurse gathered up her work and prepared to
go into the schoolroom. She knew the children would like to be alone,
and she had promised to help Miss Thompson in her constant search after
Christian's possessions.
"A more untidy child I never saw," said Miss Thompson when the old
woman entered the room. "But there! I do pity her. I think it is
perfectly awful the way the poor child is kept in the dark. It is that
that worries me."
"Well," said nurse, "there's sense in it too. She won't have time to
fret; it will be one sharp blow and then the worst will be over. Miss
Christian has got fancies and all kinds of romances about her, and
she'd conjure up horrors like anything. Children who conjure up ought
to be kept from brooding; that's what I say."
Meanwhile the two girls in the cozy nursery were sitting side by side.
"I have eight sovereigns," began Christian. "I've got another since I
saw you last. Mother gave it to me."
"Oh, golloptious!" said Rosy.
"Do you think eight sovereigns will go a long, long way? Do you think
they will be enough till we have made our fortunes by being tambourine
and dancing girls?" exclaimed Christian.
"To be sure they will!" answered Rosy. "Now, Christian, you listen.
I have it planned splendid. You'll have to do it this way, and this
alone. My friend that I told you of aint much to look at, but she's
clever. My word! I never came across anyone with such brains. I spoke
to her last night. She is apprenticed to a dressmaker next door to
mother, and she's sick of it."
"But my eight pounds won't support three people," said Christian,
speaking hastily, and with a strong dislike to Rosy's friend rising up
at once in her heart.
"You needn't fear that," said Rosy. "Judith aint going to have anything
to do with us; she couldn't if she wished, for she's apprenticed to a
dressmaker, and her mother would be mad if she even thought of such a
thing. But what she will do is this. She'll meet us and take us to some
nice lodgings, where we can stay all by ourselves for a couple of days.
If you say the word to-night, Miss Christian, she'll hire the little
room for us. I said you wouldn't mind it being humble, and she said she
knew one in a very respectable house--of course nowhere near here--a
little room at the top, where there'd be a cozy bed for us. Think of
you and me sleeping so warm side by side. And we could have a fire if
we wanted it, and we could cook red herrings and make our own tea."
"It would be fun," said Christian, her eyes gleaming. "Children have
done that before when they were poor, haven't they? It would be like
the old story-books about children who lived in London and nearly
starved but came out all right in the end."
"Yes, yes," said Rosy; "but you listen. She'll take the room to-morrow
if you say the word, and it will be all ready for us when we get there
on Tuesday."
"Oh," said Christian--"Tuesday! But oughtn't we to run away on Monday?"
"No; that won't do at all. I told Judith, and she said you'd be found
out. What you must do is this. You must get to the station. You must
walk up to the book-stall. You say to that Miss Neil that you want a
picture-book----"
"Which I don't," said Christian. "I hate picture-books."
"Well, any sort; it don't matter. Then you watch your chance and mix up
with the crowd and come out, and stand outside and wait for me."
"But how will you know what station to go to?"
Rosy laughed. "You'll say that I am very clever when I tell you," she
answered. "Do you know that I picked up a letter that your mother had
dropped, and it was from that fine school of yours--oh! I wouldn't
like to be imprisoned there--and all directions were given. You were
to go from Paddington Station; so I'll be there, and so will Judith,
and we'll take you away before Miss Neil finds out anything. Don't you
see what a splendid plan it is? Your father and mother will be off two
hours before you, and they won't be fretted at all. By the time the
news reaches them that you are lost, you may be able to write a letter
and tell 'em that you are earning your own living in London and doing
fine."
Christian's cheeks were now almost as red as Rosy's.
"It does sound too splendid," she said. "I wonder if I'll have strength
to do it."
"Why, Miss Christian, what do you mean?"
"Well, you know, Rosy, it isn't good of me; it's downright bad of me."
"Oh, I didn't know," said Rosy, "that we was to think of the virtues. I
thought you wasn't a bit that sort of goody-goody kind."
"Nor am I," said Christian, reddening. "But since I saw you I have
heard about my grandmother, and she--she was wonderfully good. And she
had spirit, too, Rosy--far more spirit than either you or I have. But
she never thought of pleasing herself; that was the amazing thing about
her."
"Well, no one can call you selfish, Miss Christian."
"But when I run away from the strict-discipline school I do please
myself, don't I?" answered Christian.
Rosy had no answer for that; but presently her little face puckered up
and she began to cry.
"I was that troubled," she began, bringing out the words through her
sobs; "and Judith Ford--I promised her five shillings; so I did. I
knew you'd pay it for getting her to hire the room and for going to
Paddington with me. And I thought I wouldn't be scolded any more, nor
have my finger pricked by the horrid needlework, nor anything of that
sort; and now----"
"Well?" said Christian.
"You are backing out of it; I can see that. You aint half nor quarter
as anxious about it as you were when last we met."
"You needn't be frightened," said Christian coldly. "I asked you to
help me, and I mean to go through with it; but as to its not being
painful--I know it will be necessary, but it is horribly painful. I can
scarcely bear to look my mother and father in the face."
"Well!" said Rosy, "I could look mother straight enough in the face.
I didn't sauce her half as much to-day, for thinking that I'd be away
from her and the horrid needlework in less than a week. Oh, I am happy!
And we'll get a little monkey and tambourines, and we'll practise like
anything in our dear, snug little room; and we'll start walking along
the streets and getting pence from the passers-by by the end of next
week."
Christian's eyes once again sparkled. The scheme was fascinating. She
found herself, as it were, between two positions. At one side was the
school, strict--very strict--far away from London, where she would be
received and, as it were, locked up in prison for years and years and
years; no holidays to look forward to, for holidays were to be spent at
school; no friends that she loved to greet her or speak to her. She was
slow in making friends, and Rosy was dearer to her than any other girl.
Certainly the other prospect was more alluring. It did not occur to her
that the small room would be anything but spotlessly clean, with snowy
sheets to the bed, and pretty, bright furniture, and a dear little fire
in the grate; and she _had_ always longed to taste red herrings. She
thought that the food of the poor would be nice as a change--at least
for a time. Then there would be the life in the open air, and the other
tambourine-girls looking on and envying and wondering. And the monkey
should certainly be called Jacko, for there was no other name so sweet
for him. And she would love him and teach him no end of tricks, and he
would sleep with her at night.
"Yes, Rosy, I will do it," she said. "I am sorry I seemed to hesitate.
You can't quite understand everything about me; but I'll do it safe
enough."
"That's right," said Rosy. "And now, do you think, Miss Christian, that
you could let me have five shillings?"
"What for?" asked Christian.
"Well, it's for this: Judith can't hire us a room unless she pays in
advance. She has one now in her mind's eye--a beauty--like a bird's
nest, she said--the cosiest spot on earth. She wouldn't like to lose
it. She must get it to-morrow, and we'll take possession of it on
Tuesday, but we must pay a week in advance."
"I have only got my sovereigns," said Christian. "It will seem rather
strange my changing one."
"All right," said Rosy; "only I don't suppose I dare come again. Can't
you get it for me anyhow? Great-aunt has always a lot of change, I
know."
Christian considered, and then she went into the schoolroom. Her purse
containing her treasure was in her own private desk, and that desk
stood on a little round table near one of the windows. It was always
kept locked, and Christian kept the key fastened on to her watch-chain.
She unlocked the desk now and took out the purse. The night before she
had deposited the new sovereign with its seven companions. She looked
sadly at her little store. It seemed a pity to break it. But, after
all, Rosy's request was reasonable; Judith Ford could not be expected
to get a room for them without money.
Both nurse and Miss Thompson were in the room, and they looked
attentively at Christian as she entered.
"Well, Miss Christian," said nurse, "has Rosy made herself scarce?
Quite time for her to do it, little puss!"
"Yes, Christian, you really must go to bed now," said Miss Thompson.
Christian colored. "I want to change this," she said, and she laid the
sovereign on the table.
"Whatever for, my pet?" said nurse.
"It is for Rosy; I want----"
"No; nothing of the kind," said nurse--"nothing of the kind! I'm not
going to have my great-niece taking presents from you, Miss Christian;
and money, too, forsooth! Just like the brass of that little thing! But
I'll soon----"
"Nursey, nursey," cried Christian, almost in tears, "you don't know;
you can't understand. Please--please let me have some change; I want to
give Rosy five shillings. It isn't as a present; it is for something
she is to do for me."
"Of course you can have the change, Christian," said Miss Thompson;
and she went to her desk, and presently laid half a sovereign and four
half-crowns on the table. She took up the sovereign, and Christian ran
into the nursery with the money.
"Here it is," she said, thrusting two half-crowns into Rosy's hands;
"and I had great work to get it. Nursey thought I wanted to give you a
present."
"I'll have something to say to my great-aunt if she doesn't change
her manners," was Rosy's response. "Thank you, Miss Christian; you
couldn't, I suppose, let me have another half-crown as well?"
"What for?" said Christian, who felt that her money was already
beginning to melt with wonderful rapidity.
"Well, you see, miss, it is to pay for Judith's time, and for me and
her to go to Paddington in time to meet you. This sort of thing can't
be done without a little outlay, Miss Christian. Afterwards, when we
are settled down, we'll be as economical as you like."
"There, take it," said Christian.
She thrust the money into Rosy's hand and dashed from the room. She did
not even wait to bid her friend good-night; she felt at that moment
that she almost disliked her.