THE PACKET OF LETTERS.
Two or three days later Captain Richmond received a long letter from
his sister-in-law. The post arrived at breakfast-time, and the four
girls watched him with more or less interest while he read.
He read the letter very carefully over to himself, and his face
expressed no emotion whatever. Mrs. Richmond, in reply to a long letter
from him, had written as follows:
“My Dear Peter,—I am so thankful that you are able to stay
with the children at Fairleigh for the present; you understand
Nora and Kitty so well, and I am quite certain that you
equally understand our dear little Nancy. As to Augusta, she
is more difficult, but I trust the dear child will behave well
and not give you any anxiety. Before I reply to your letter,
just received, I must tell you that my own plans are somewhat
puzzling; and were it not for you, and also for the fact that
Miss Roy will be almost immediately returning to Fairleigh, I
could not carry them out. My dear friend is in the most
alarming condition both of body and mind. The death of her son
has completely shattered her, and the doctors have ordered her
to go to South Africa immediately to pay a visit to her
married daughter. She is quite incapable of taking the voyage
alone, and I am forced to go with her. I shall only stay to
see her settled, and after putting her into the care of her
daughter, will return home by the first boat possible to
England. But the whole thing will probably take a couple of
months, and during that time I want you and Miss Roy to keep
house for me. I have not even time to come home to say
good-bye to the dear children, but they are quite well and in
the best of hands. I am writing to my own girls, and they will
receive their letter by the next post. Please tell them so,
and give them my dear love. My maid, Justine, will return to
Fairleigh to pack some things for me, for I cannot leave my
poor friend even for a day. We sail, all being well, on
Monday.
“Now to come to the subject of your letter. I do not know the
Asprays personally, although their name is familiar to me. My
dear brother, I have something curious to tell you with regard
to them. You know how fond I am of Nancy Esterleigh. I have
adopted her as my own dear child, and trust she will never
give her affections to any other so-called mother. But this is
the state of the case: By her father’s will she is entitled,
should she ever wish to claim it, to a permanent home and also
to provision for the future from Mr. Aspray. Were she to leave
me and go to him he could not refuse her this home. The matter
was arranged many years ago, when dear Nancy was only a baby.
It has something to do with a considerable sum of money which
Mr. Aspray borrowed from Nancy’s father. He was unable to pay
it back at the time, but offered, if ever necessary, to take
his little daughter and to do for her and bring her up with
his own children, and to provide for her future. Nancy’s
mother told me all about this when she herself was dying, and
she gave me the letter which Nancy, if necessary, is to take
to Mr. Aspray. Nancy’s mother anything but wished that her
little girl should be adopted by the Americans, and implored
of me to do all in my power to prevent such a contingency. I
feel, therefore, that any intimate acquaintance is scarcely
desirable. Not that I am in the least afraid that Nancy would
prefer those people to my little girls or me.
“What I have told you with regard to Nancy is for yourself
alone, and you will be guided how best to act under the
circumstances.
“Yes, Peter, Augusta is certainly the one who troubles me,
and I am going to write her a special and private letter. She
is sure to take a fancy to the Asprays, for she is more
worldly-minded than my own dear children. Now I think I have
explained everything to you. Of course, we cannot be rude to
them, but any intimacy with the Asprays is the reverse of
desirable.—Your affectionate sister-in-law,
“Jessie Richmond.”
Having read this letter once, Captain Richmond slowly and carefully
perused it again, and then raised his eyes.
“Oh, Uncle Pete! that is good,” cried Nora; “you have looked up at
last. We have been watching you by the clock, and you have been a
quarter of an hour and two minutes reading mother’s letter. What can
she possibly have to say? We expected to hear from her this morning,
but she has not written. Is anything wrong, Uncle Pete? How funny you
look! You have your half-glad and half-sorry face on.—Hasn’t he,
Kitty?”
“Yes,” said Kitty; “and we can’t keep in our curiosity any longer, so
please read that long, long—wonderfully long—letter aloud.”
Captain Richmond rose.
“No,” he said; “the letter is private. But if you will all come to me
on the terrace in a quarter of an hour I will tell you what parts of
it you ought to know. Be sure you come, Nancy—and you, Augusta. Ta-ta
for the present.”
He blew a kiss to his nieces, nodded to the other girls, and left the
room.
“Then it is something very exciting,” said Kitty. “I thought so when
he frowned and his brows met in a line, and then when he gave that
quick little jerk and sort of sigh. Oh dear! aren’t you nearly mad
with curiosity, Nancy?”
“I should like to know what Aunt Jessie has written about,” said
Nancy. “But, after all, Uncle Pete will tell us in a very short time;
and I must go now and feed my canary.”
Nora and Kitty had given Nancy a very beautiful canary a few days
before. The bird was a splendid specimen of its kind, and sang
magnificently. She had hung it up in her own bedroom, and now went up
to give it fresh seed and groundsel.
The quarter of an hour soon passed, and the four girls met Captain
Richmond on the terrace, which at that hour in the morning was quite
cool and sheltered from the fierce rays of the sun. He was seated
reading that wonderful letter for the third time; but when he saw the
girls he thrust it into his pocket and came to meet them.
“Now then,” he said, “for my news, which is somewhat startling. We
shall not have your dear, kind mother here for the present.”
“Why?” said Kitty. “Is her friend so very ill?”
“Poor thing, she is very ill indeed, Kitty—I fear alarmingly so; and
your mother—just like her kindness—is going to accompany her to
South Africa. They start on Monday, and your mother says she has no
time to return home between now and then. Indeed, even if she had, she
could not leave Mrs. Rashleigh. Justine will arrive to-day or
to-morrow and pack her things.”
“Don’t cry, Kitty,” said Nora; “mother would not go if she could help
it.”
“Of course not,” said Kitty; but as she sat down on the nearest seat
her pretty little face was white and tears were brimming over in her
eyes.
Nancy immediately seated herself next to Kitty, and flung one
protecting arm round her neck.
“I understand—I understand,” she whispered in her ear.
The low and intensely sympathetic words comforted the little girl, and
she squeezed Nancy’s hand and nestled up against her.
“Well,” continued Captain Richmond, “that is one part of the letter.
Miss Roy returns to resume her duties next week, and between now and
then I shall be in charge. You have been very good girls in the past,
and I trust you will be equally good in the future. You may be certain
I shall do all I can to promote happiness and good-will amongst us.”
Here he laughed, and his eyes met those of Augusta, who was gazing at
him as if she would read him through.
“Now to take the bull by the horns,” thought Captain Richmond to
himself. He paused for a minute, and then he said slowly and
emphatically:
“With regard to the subject about which I wrote to your mother, Nora
and Kitty, and to your aunt, Augusta, she—as I thought she
would—agrees with me. We are to be polite to the Asprays, but there
is to be no intimacy. We cannot dispute my sister-in-law’s wishes; we
may therefore regard that subject as a closed book.” Captain Richmond
put on his most determined air as he spoke, and held out his hand to
Kitty. “Who will come for a walk with me in the woods?” he said.
“No, thank you; I don’t want to go,” cried Augusta; and she turned and
went very sulkily into the house.
She ran up to her own room. Shutting the door and turning the key in
the lock, she took out of her pocket a letter which she had slipped
into it unperceived by any one that morning. The letter had been lying
on her plate at breakfast, but she had managed to secrete it before
the other girls had come down. She had read it once, and now she
proceeded to read it again. It was from Flora Aspray, and its contents
were of the deepest interest to Augusta. Flora wrote with great
earnestness and spirit.
“Oh, we want you so badly!” explained the letter. “I don’t
like to say too much, but, you dear, bewitching girl, you have
made a _conquest._ However, more of that anon. Yours is
the very first invitation sent out. We are getting up a little
dance—quite a scratch affair. It is to be this day week—only
a poor little Cinderella, from eight to twelve o’clock. There
will be several girls quite as young as yourself, so the most
fastidious could not object. If you could come to us we could
give you a bed for the night; and if you must have company, do
ask any of the other three girls you like to come with you.
But, to be frank, we only want _you._ David Archer says
that your cousins and your queer little friend are too funny
for anything. You know, David is quite a mimic; you would
die with laughter if you saw him taking off that funny, prim
little Nancy. Oh! and, my dear girl, that precious Captain
Richmond of yours is too good for life. I never had a duller
walk than the one we took together. David Archer takes him
off, too, with his saintliness and goody-goody airs. Oh, it is
killing! But there, Augusta; how my pen runs on! The main
thing that all this leads up to is, _will_ you come? Will
you give us the great pleasure of your company? Oh, of course
you will! You cannot help yourself. If you were not present it
would nearly break the heart of your most devoted—Flo.
“_P.S._ If you have not a suitable dress with you,
either Constance or I can give you a big selection to choose
from, so don’t worry on that score—only come.”
“Go I will,” said Augusta to herself when she had finished reading the
letter. “I would not lose the fun for all the world. But now, how
shall I manage it?”
She sat with Flora’s letter upon her lap and gave herself up to
meditation. It was a lovely day, and the window of her pretty bedroom
was wide open. The sky was blue, and the trees a brilliant green. The
lawns, which rolled away right down to the end of the paddock, were
smooth as velvet. Presently a little figure crossed one of them and
came slowly towards the house. Augusta’s eyes contracted and her brows
met in a frown as she watched the little figure.
“It is odd how I dislike Nan,” she said to herself. “Poor child, I
suppose she is quite passable, and even agreeable to others, but she
always does manage to rub me the wrong way. She could be wonderfully
useful now, however. If I could get her to run to the post with my
answer I should feel more or less relieved; and if things are
eventually found out, and it is discovered she has a finger in the
pie, so much the better for me.”
Augusta sprang up, put her head out of the window, and called to
Nancy.
“Come here, Nancy; I want you,” she cried.
Nancy ran towards her, standing under the window and looking up.
“What are you doing?” asked Augusta.
“Oh! lots of things; but nothing very, _very_ special. Do you
want me, Gussie?”
“Yes; there is no one else to send, and I just want some one to run to
the village and put a letter I am about to write into the post for me.
Will you go? It would be awfully good-natured of you.”
“Yes; of course I will.”
“Well, come up to my room in ten minutes and I’ll have the letter
ready.”
Augusta seated herself at her little table, and wrote quickly:
“My Dear Flo,—The fat is in the fire, and we are forbidden
all intercourse with you. Mean, horrid, disgraceful,
unbearable, I call it! Don’t think for a single moment that I
submit. I love you better than any girl I have ever met. I
love Constance, too. But, oh! I must hurry, for I want you to
get this letter by the middle of the day. Don’t come near the
place at present, and don’t walk in the woods, for if I met
you I might be discovered, and I don’t want anything to be
known until after the Cinderella. Of course I am going, but
how I do not know at the present moment. I can’t sleep at your
house; that is certain. You will hear from me nearer the time.
And now, good-bye.—Your affectionate friend,
“Augusta Duncan.”
Augusta had scarcely finished her letter before Nancy’s tap was heard
at her door.
“Come in,” called out the young lady; and Nancy entered.
“Is the letter ready, Augusta?” she asked.
“Yes; I am directing it. Have you got a stamp about you?”
“Yes.”
“Lend me one, like a good child.”
Nancy took out her purse, produced a stamp, and gave it to Augusta.
Augusta proceeded to affix it to the letter, which she then gave to
Nancy.
“It is private,” she said; “don’t for the life of you show it to any
one. And now be off; put wings to your feet, or you will lose the
half-past ten clearance.”
“But it is to one of the Asprays,” said Nancy, taking up the letter
and looking at it, and then putting it down again.
“Well, and what of that?” asked Augusta, turning very red, and looking
extremely angry.
“Oh! nothing, of course; only you heard what Uncle Peter said this
morning.”
“Certainly I did; I am not deaf.”
“And after hearing what he said, ought you to write to them?”
stammered Nancy.
“What a silly child you are! Have I not told them we are to keep out
of their way in the future? How comfortable we should feel if they
were haunting our woods and we could not talk to them! Now, as I have
explained matters, I suppose you will post the letter.”
“I don’t know; I don’t think it is quite right. Can’t you post it
yourself?”
“I can’t, and won’t. There are things I could tell about you. I could
give you an uncommonly hot time. You had better be off. Drop that
letter into the pillar-box and you will be worried by no more Asprays.
Refuse to drop it in and you will have a pleasant time in the future.”
Nancy took up the letter very gingerly. She stood still for a moment;
then she turned and left the room.
“Be sure you don’t show it to any one.”
“No.”
“And be quick.”
“Yes.”
“There! that’s a good thing,” said Augusta to herself. “If I am
discovered I can prove that Nancy posted my letter for me. When they
rouse my worst passions as they are doing in this house they little
know what it means. Where my own interests are concerned I stop at
nothing—nothing. Go to that dance. I will. Oh dear, what a worry
things are, all the same! I wish I could see the whole of Aunt
Jessie’s letter. I am sure there are allusions to me in it; I guessed
as much by the expression in our gallant captain’s eyes.”
Augusta left her room and went downstairs and joined the rest of the
party. The remainder of the day passed without anything special
occurring. Kitty and Nora, having got over the fact that their mother
was not returning home at present, gave themselves up to the
delightful time Uncle Peter always managed to arrange for them.
Augusta pretended to be equally cheerful; and Nan, though a little
pale and silent, behaved quite in an unremarkable fashion.
Late that evening a telegram came from Justine to say that she was
travelling all night, and would arrive at Fairleigh between nine and
ten the following morning.
She did arrive at the time stated, and went immediately up to her
mistress’s room to pack the things necessary for the voyage. She had
not been long there before Augusta appeared at the door.
“Can I help you, Justine?” she asked. “The others have all gone out
boating, but I had a headache. It is better now, and therefore I can
do anything you like, if you will only tell me what.”
“Thank you very much, miss,” replied the woman. “I should be pleased
if you would help me. My mistress wants a lot of things, not only for
herself but for Mrs. Rashleigh, for the poor lady had no time to get
any sort of wardrobe for so unexpected a voyage, and my mistress is
going to lend her some of her things. What I want to do is this,
miss—to make two separate lists, one of my mistress’s things, and one
of those which are to be lent to Mrs. Rashleigh. I am going to pack the
things for Mrs. Rashleigh in one trunk, and the things for my mistress
in another; and as I have got to catch the three o’clock train back to
town on my way to the north, there is not too much time to spare.”
“Of course there is not, Justine. How glad I am I asked if I could
help you! Shall I make out the lists for you?”
“Will you, miss? That was just what I wanted to propose.”
Augusta went to her room, fetched paper and pens, and was soon seated
beside a small table, writing out lists of different garments under
Justine’s directions.
Augusta could be both quick and orderly, so she was of substantial
help to the maid.
“I am sure, miss, I don’t know how to thank you; your help makes all
the difference,” said the good woman. “Oh dear, Miss Gussie! we have
had a terrible time. I never saw a poor lady in such an awful state.
Me and her maid, Fanny, thought she was going off her head. It was
terrible, miss—terrible.”
Augusta listened, and asked several questions. She was by nature very
curious, and Justine’s narrative gave her some pleasant and exciting
thrills.
“I could make a splendid story out of this and frighten Flora so that
she would scream,” thought Augusta to herself. “It is such fun
frightening people, particularly in the dark, or just when you are
going to bed. I do wish I could sleep at the Asprays’ house next week.
However, that is not to be thought of.”
“Now, miss,” said Justine, “there is only one thing more of any
importance to-day. Do you see these keys?”
“Yes,” said Augusta. “Why, these are Aunt Jessie’s special private
keys.”
“They are, miss, and she trusted me with them. I am sure I feel highly
honoured. She said I was to give them to Captain Richmond, and that he
would do what she wanted; but I do declare, what with being up all
night and being dead fagged, I forgot it. What is to be done? I
suppose the Captain will be in soon, miss?”
“Indeed he won’t,” answered Augusta. “They have all gone across to the
Sovereign Islands, and have taken some lunch with them. They can’t be
back, for the tide won’t let them—at least, not before five o’clock.”
“And I hope to be getting towards London by that hour, so whatever is
to be done?” said Justine.
“Oh, can’t I do it?” said Augusta. “If those are the keys, you can
give me the same directions you were to have given to Captain
Richmond.”
“To be sure,” said Justine. “But I could do it myself, for that
matter.”
“No, no, Justine; you had better let me. You know, I am Aunt Jessie’s
very own niece, and you are only her servant.”
“Thank you, miss, but servants can be faithful.”
“I know that; and there never was a more faithful creature than you.
If you think you are to be more trusted than me, do what is necessary,
Justine; I have not a word more to say.”
Justine stood silent, pressing her hand to her cheek. She had never
known anything against Augusta, whose manners were pleasant enough
when she chose to make herself agreeable. Augusta certainly was Mrs.
Richmond’s niece, and as the matter in question was of some
importance, and Captain Richmond could not possibly be got at, she
decided to trust her.
“Here, miss,” she said; “you know the Sheraton chiffonier in the
drawing-room?”
“Yes,” said Augusta.
“And you know that all the drawers have different keys?”
“Have they?”
“Yes, miss, they have. My missus keeps her valuable papers and things
of importance in the different drawers of the Sheraton chiffonier, and
she told me to ask the Captain to open the top drawer at the
right-hand side, and press a spring, which reveals a secret drawer,
and take out from it a little box, which he was to give me to take
back to my mistress. Mrs. Richmond only thought of this box at the last
minute. It has some jewels in it which she wants to have set in a
particular way at the Cape for the young ladies, and she had not even
a minute to write. Do you understand, Miss Augusta?”
“Am I stupid?” said Augusta. “Why, it is the simplest thing in the
world. Give me the keys, please, Justine.”
“Thank you, miss; here they are. And I think, while you are getting me
the little box, I will go down to the servants’ hall and have my
dinner, for I am not only tired but faint.”
Augusta nodded, and in high spirits, her heart beating, went down to
the drawing-room. She had no special desire to possess herself of her
aunt’s secrets. The contents of the little box did not interest her in
the least, but she was the sort of girl who liked to put her finger
into every pie.
“There is never any saying _what_ I may come across,” she
whispered to herself; “and knowledge is power. I have always felt
that, and I have always proved it. Dear, dear! I am lucky. No one
suspects me of having broken open one of these precious drawers. Aunt
Jessie is going away, so Uncle Peter will not have an opportunity of
asking her about that curious mark against Nancy’s conduct. And long
before Aunt Jessie comes back the prize-day will have come and gone.
Yes, I certainly am in luck. And now, if I can but keep up my
character for good and excellent conduct, and at the same time have my
bit of fun, then I shall regard myself as one of the luckiest girls in
the world.”
Augusta closed the drawing-room door after her, walked up the long
room and standing before the chiffonier, she inserted the key which
Justine had given her into the lock, opened the little drawer, and
proceeded to press the spring which revealed the secret drawer. Her
pressure acted immediately; the bolt shot back, and another drawer was
discovered behind it. She pulled it open. It contained a small
jewel-case, a little wooden box, and also a packet of letters. Augusta
took out the box, which she thought must be the one described by
Justine. She was about to shut the drawer when her attention was
attracted by the handwriting on the letters. They were all tied
together by a piece of ribbon, and the words “About Nancy and the
Asprays” were written across them.
“Nancy and the Asprays,” said Augusta to herself. “Ah! I may indeed
find out something to my own advantage now. I have plenty of time,
too, for Justine won’t hurry with her lunch.”
Accordingly, Augusta seated herself calmly on a small chair which
stood by, and untying the packet, proceeded to read the letters. She
read them one after the other. There were only three or four, and
nothing could be plainer than their meaning. The colour rushed into
Augusta’s cheeks as she perused them, and her eyes grew very bright.
Having finished them, she sat silent for a minute; then, tying them up
again so as to look exactly as they had done before, she returned them
to their place in the secret drawer. She pushed back the hinge, shut
the outer drawer and locked it, and, with the little box in her hand,
went upstairs. She had been longer than she thought, for Justine, in
some impatience, was waiting for her.
“I was just coming down to the drawing-room to look for you, Miss
Augusta,” she said.
“Oh! I didn’t hurry,” said Augusta; “I thought you would be at your
dinner.”
“I could not eat, miss, my head was that bad. And, oh dear! time is
going; I have to leave here not a minute later than half-past two. Is
that the box, miss?”
“Yes; and here is the key. I wonder, Justine,” she added——
“Yes, miss.”
“I don’t know whether I ought to say it, but—don’t you think it would
simplify matters if you _didn’t tell_ that you had forgotten to
speak to Captain Richmond of this?”
Justine coloured.
“But if I kept it secret you would tell.”
“Indeed I would not. Why should I get you into a scrape, poor Justine,
situated as you are?”
“Indeed, Miss Gussie, that is true, for I have had a time since I left
here, and me expecting my holiday and all. I know mistress will be
vexed with me if I tell, but I don’t like, somehow, to make a secret
of it.”
“If I were you I would not tell,” said Augusta; “you will only get
into a scrape. And, of course, I will never breathe it to a soul. But
please yourself, of course.”
“Well then, miss, if you promise it won’t pass your lips, I don’t see
why I should get myself into hot water.”
“I won’t speak of it, Justine. And now, do lie down for a minute. I
have some lovely aromatic vinegar in my room; I will bathe your face
and hands.”
“Oh miss! but I am sure I could not let you.”
“Nonsense! Why shouldn’t I help you? Even though you are a servant,
you are a fellow-creature. There! lie down on this little bed; there
is lots of time—it is not two o’clock yet.”
So Augusta waited on Justine, and soothed and comforted her, and made
her forget her headache; and when at last she left the house the good
woman said to herself that a dearer and nicer young lady than Miss
Gussie never walked the earth.
“All the same,” said Justine, “it would not have occurred to me to
keep my forgetfulness from my mistress if she hadn’t put it into my
head; but as she did, doubtless it is the best way. She is a very
clever young lady for her years; and very thoughtful, too.”