UNDER HER THUMB.
Augusta Duncan was considered by her elders to be one of the best
girls in existence. She was always neat and nice to look at; she had
refined, gracious, gentle manners. At school she learnt her lessons
correctly, and took place after place in form, rising by slow but sure
degrees to the head of the school. But Augusta was not a favourite
with her companions. Even they themselves did not always know why this
was the case. The fact is, they were a little afraid of her; she had
a way of getting them under her thumb, as she expressed it. Augusta
was never happy in any house until she had got the other girls into
this position. She had no special reason to make Nan Esterleigh’s life
a misery; but the moment she saw the little girl she grasped the
opportunity, and her favourite passion being immediately fed, her
appetite grew greater every moment. She was now resolved to have
complete power over Nan, who, she felt certain, could be very useful
to her.
“My dear Gussie,” said her aunt, coming forward and kissing her
affectionately as she entered the room, “you must have thought me
terribly rude on your arrival to send you upstairs; but I was
expecting some special friends, and was anxious to finish a lot of
letters. My friends will be with me in about half-an-hour, and
meantime you and I can have tea cosily together. How is your mother,
dear?”
“She and father are very well indeed. Is it not hard lines that I
cannot be with them?”
“Well, I hope you will be happy with me. We will all do what we can to
make you so.”
“Thank you, Aunt Jessie; I am always happy when I am with you and the
girls.”
“That is right, my love. You have grown a good deal, Augusta. I see
you are going to take after your father’s family; you will be tall.”
“I am glad of that,” said Augusta. “I would rather be tall than short;
it gives one more power in the world.”
“You silly child,” laughed her aunt; “what do you want with power?”
“I love to feel that I have power, Aunt Jessie. I always like to
exercise it when I can.”
“Well, the time may come when it will be useful, but at present your
lot in life is to obey your elders, and to be happy with your young
companions.”
“Of course, Aunt Jessie—of course. May I sit on this little footstool
at your feet, and may I hold your hand?”
“Indeed you may, my darling child. I am so happy to have you with me
for a little!”
“Thank you, Aunt Jessie.”
“It must be lonely for you, dear, up in the schoolroom at present, but
the three girls will be in to supper; they have gone to Shirley
Woods—a long-promised treat.”
“The three girls!” said Augusta, raising her calm blue eyes. “Then
there are four girls now in the house?”
“Counting you, there are.”
“But I mean without me.”
“I do not understand you, dear.”
“Well, Aunt Jessie, there is a girl up in the schoolroom. She says
her name is Nan—Nan Esterleigh.”
“Little Nan,” cried Mrs. Richmond. “Did not she go with the others?”
“No; I found her in the schoolroom when I arrived.”
“I wonder what can be wrong with the child.”
“I don’t think much; she has slipped and hurt her foot, but it is
nothing.”
“I must go up to see about her.”
“Oh! please, not now, just when you have sent for me, and I am longing
to have a talk with you. Nan was as happy as possible when I came down
here. I left her playing with her little dog, and seated by the fire.”
“If you can assure me she is not in pain I will not go to her till
after tea,” said Mrs. Richmond; “I am rather tired, having had a lot of
running about this morning. But what a pity the poor child never told
me of this! How strange of Miss Roy to have gone off without her!”
“I know nothing about that, of course,” replied Augusta. “But tell me
about her, Aunt Jessie. Is she any relation? Does she live here now? I
never heard of her before.”
“She does live here, Augusta, and I hope she will continue to do so.”
“How mysterious you look, Aunt Jessie! Is there any story about her?”
“In one sense there is, Augusta; but I do not care to talk about it.
The dear child is a great pleasure to me. We all love her very much.”
“But do tell me, please, Aunt Jessie—do. I so love to hear anything
mysterious!”
“There is nothing mysterious, darling; but perhaps, as you have asked
me, I may as well tell. Nan is the dear little daughter of a great
friend of mine, a Mrs. Esterleigh, who died about three months ago. At
her death Nan came here.”
“Oh!” said Augusta.
She was silent for a minute, thinking.
“And is she no relation?” she asked then.
“No; only the daughter of a very great friend.”
“Is she, Aunt Jessie, a—rich little girl?”
“Rich in friends, I hope, Augusta; but rich, poor darling, in nothing
else. Her mother did not leave any money behind her. But it is a great
pleasure to have Nan, and I hope she will live here always.”
“Then you have adopted her.”
“Practically; only the matter cannot be fully arranged for a time.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“There are some other people—friends of her father’s—who have also
the right to adopt Nan.”
“What a curious, romantic story! People do not as a rule want to adopt
little penniless girls.”
“I want to adopt her; and I do not quite like that tone in your voice,
Augusta. Nan is not under the slightest obligation to me, and I wish
you to understand that. Her mother once on a most important occasion
in my life did me a kindness which I can never, never forget, and for
her sake nothing that I could do for her child would be too much.”
“And you will not tell me what it is?”
“I have told no one yet. When Nan is older she shall know.”
“And these other people?”
“The Asprays. I hope Nan will not go to them. They have quite another
reason for wishing to have her as one of the family. Now, do not ask
me any more. I hear our guests arriving. Will you stay with me, or go
upstairs to Nan?”
“I think I will stay if you do not mind; I can go up to Nan later on.
What an interesting story! And what a dear aunty you are!”
Augusta rose as she spoke, and kissed Mrs. Richmond on her cheek.
Several ladies came into the room, and one and all admired Augusta;
for her manners were good, and she had an attentive, thoughtful way
which stood her in excellent stead with her elders. By-and-by she went
upstairs of her own accord, and then the ladies turned to Mrs.
Richmond and praised her, saying what a very nice girl they considered
her.
When Augusta went back to the schoolroom she found that Nan’s foot was
really very painful.
“I must not walk any more,” she said. “What have you been doing,
Augusta? Have you had a good time?”
“I have been listening to a story about you,” said Augusta in a marked
voice.
She looked full at Nan, who felt her heart beat, and who coloured
uncomfortably. Just then there came the sound of laughter and of
voices, and the next instant the two little girls and their governess
entered the room. They brought big baskets of violets and primroses.
The air of the schoolroom was full of the sweet scent of the violets.
Kitty rushed up to Nan and kissed her: then they both saw Augusta, who
was standing in the background, and uttered a shout of delight.
Augusta went up to them, kissed them both, and stood close to Nan.
“I must run up at once to see how Pip is,” cried Kitty. “I have been
thinking of the darling all the time I have been coming home. I wonder
if he is better. Do not keep me, please, Nan. I won’t be a minute, but
I want just to see how he is.”
She was dashing out of the room when Nan’s voice came faintly—very
faintly—on the air:
“Kitty, one minute first!”
“Little fool!” said Augusta. She bent down close to the child and laid
her hand across her mouth.
Nobody else had heard Nan’s low tones. Nora followed Kitty out of the
room; she also ran upstairs to see the sick rat.
“You are too late now,” said Augusta. “Just keep your own counsel.
Pretend that your foot is aching; that will account for your queer
looks. And, by-the-bye, I let Mrs. Richmond understand that you had
slipped on the stairs and strained your foot, and you must stick to
the story when she asks you about it. Now then, just keep your
courage, hold your tongue, and all will be well.”
There came a piercing cry from poor Kitty, who rushed into the room,
her face white, and tears in her big eyes.
“Pip is dead!” she said.
She flung herself into a chair, panting slightly. It was not her
nature to cry, and she did not cry now; but her face looked white and
startled. Augusta gave her a quick look. Nan shivered all over with
sympathy for Kitty and longing to speak; but Augusta’s eyes met hers,
and there was such a world of warning and determination in their
glance that she succumbed.
“Why, what is the matter,” said Miss Roy, who at that moment entered
the room. “What a tragic group! Nan looking as though the world were
coming to an end, and Kitty—— Why, my darling, what is wrong?”
“It is Pip,” said Kitty. “He is dead. He died when I was out. He must
have had a fit or something, for he looks so queer; and nothing could
have got at him, for the cage is firmly fastened, and just as I left
it. I will never love another rat. I want to go away by myself for a
little. Do not talk to me. Oh! I will not make a fuss, but I cannot be
very cheerful to-night.”
She went sadly out of the room.
“And Nan, what is wrong with you?” said her governess. “You were not
well when we left, and you look worse now.”
“It is my foot,” said Nan. “I said that I had hurt it—don’t you
remember? And it has got worse; it hurts very much indeed.”
“Poor little girl! You must let me look at it.”
Nan pulled down her stocking and showed a much-swollen ankle.
“My dear child, this will never do. I must bandage it immediately. You
have given yourself quite a nasty sprain; for the next few days you
must keep your foot up. Have you been using it much this afternoon?”
“Only a very little.”
“I am afraid I have been to blame,” said Augusta, speaking at this
juncture in her most amiable voice. “I did not know that poor little
Nan was suffering from a sprained ankle, and asked her to go a few
messages for me. I am ever so sorry!”
“But why did you go, Nan? Why did you not tell Augusta?”
“I did not want to,” replied Nan.
“Well, you were very silly. Now, dear, I am going to bathe your poor
ankle and bind it up.”
This was done very skilfully. Nan’s foot was supported on a chair; and
soon, had it not been for the dead rat, and for the fact that she was
concealing the truth, she might have been almost happy.