Just toward the end of the Easter holidays, Hester Thornton was thrown
into a great tumult of excitement, of wonder, of half regret and half
joy, by a letter which she received from her father. In this letter he
informed her that he had made up his mind to break up his establishment
for several years, to go abroad, and to leave Hester altogether under
Mrs Willis's care.
When Hester had read so far, she flung her letter on the table, put her
head into her hands, and burst into tears.
"Oh, how cruel of father!" she exclaimed; "how am I to live without ever
going home--how am I to endure life without seeing my little Nan?"
Hester cried bitterly; the strongest love of her nature was now given to
this pretty and sweet little sister, and dismal pictures rose rapidly
before her of Nan growing up without in the least remembering her--
perhaps, still worse, of Nan being unkindly treated and neglected by
strangers. After a long pause, she raised her head, wiped her eyes, and
resumed her letter. Now, indeed, she started with astonishment, and
gave an exclamation of delight--Sir John Thornton had arranged that Mrs
Willis was also to receive little Nan, although she was younger than any
other child present in the school. Hester scarcely waited to finish her
letter. She crammed it into her pocket, rushed up to Susan Drummond,
and astonished that placid young lady by suddenly kissing her.
"Nan is coming, Susy!" she exclaimed; "dear, darling, lovely little Nan
is coming--oh, I am so happy!"
She was far too impatient to explain matters to stolid Susan, and danced
downstairs, her eyes sparkling and smiles on her lips. It was nothing
to her now how long she stayed at school--her heart's treasure would be
with her there, and she could not but feel happy.
After breakfast Mrs Willis sent for her, and told her what arrangements
were being made; she said that she was going to remove Susan Drummond
out of Hester's bedroom, in order that Hester might enjoy her little
sister's company at night. She spoke very gently, and entered with full
sympathy into the girl's delight over the little motherless sister, and
Hester felt more drawn to her governess than she had ever been.
Nan was to arrive at Lavender House on the following evening, and for
the first week her nurse was to remain with her until she got accustomed
to her new life.
The morning of the day of Nan's arrival was also the last of the Easter
holidays, and Hester, awakening earlier than her wont, lay in bed, and
planned what she would do to welcome the little one.
The idea of having Nan with her continually had softened and touched
Hester. She was not unhappy in her school-life--indeed, there was much
in its monotonous, busy, and healthy occupation to stimulate and rouse
the good in her. Her intellect was being vigorously exercised, and, by
contact with her school-fellows, her character was being moulded; but
the perfect harmony and brightness of the school had been much
interrupted since Hester's arrival; her dislike to Annie Forest had been
unfortunate in more ways than one, and that dislike, which was
increasing each day, was hardening Hester's heart.
But it was not hard this morning--all that was sweetest, and softest,
and best in her had come to the surface--the little sister, whom her
mother had left in her charge, was now to be her daily and hourly
companion. For Nan's sake, then, she must be very good; her deeds must
be gentle and kind, and her thoughts charitable. Hester had an
instinctive feeling that baby eyes saw deep below the surface; Hester
felt if Nan were to lose even a shadow of her faith in her she could
almost die of shame.
Hester had been very proud of Dora Russell's friendship. Never before
had it been known in the school that a first-class girl took a third
into such close companionship, and Hester's little head had been
slightly turned by the fact. Her better judgment and her better nature
had been rather blinded by the fascinations of this tall, graceful,
satirical Dora. She had been weak enough to agree with Dora with her
lips when in her heart of hearts she knew she was all wrong. By nature
Hester was an honourable girl, with many fine traits in her character--
by nature Dora was small and mean and poor of soul.
This morning Hester ran up to her favourite.
"Little Nan is coming to-night," she said.
Dora was talking at the moment to Miss Maitland, another first-class
girl, and the two stared rather superciliously at Hester, and, after a
pause, Dora said in her finest drawl--
"Who _is_ little Nan?"
It was Hester's turn to stare, for she had often spoken of Nan to this
beloved friend, who had listened to her narrative and had appeared to
sympathise.
"My little sister, of course," she exclaimed. "I have often talked to
you about her, Dora. Are you not glad she is coming?"
"No, my dear child, I can't say that I am. If you wish to retain my
friendship, Hester, you must be careful to keep the little mite away
from me; I can't bear small children."
Hester walked away with her heart swelling, and she fancied she heard
the two elder girls laughing as she left the play-room.
Many other girls, however, in the school thoroughly sympathised with
Hester, and amongst them no one was more delighted than Susan Drummond.
"I am awfully good-natured not to be as cross as two sticks, Hetty," she
exclaimed, "for I am being turned out of my comfortable room; and whose
room do you suppose I am now to share? why, that little imp Annie
Forest's." But Hester felt charitable, even toward Annie, on this happy
day.
In the evening little Nan arrived. She was a very pretty, dimpled,
brown-eyed creature, of just three years of age. She had all the
imperious ways of a spoilt baby, and, evidently, fear was a word not to
be found in her vocabulary. She clung to Hester, but smiled and nodded
to the other girls, who made advances to her, and petted her, and
thought her a very charming baby. Beside Nan, all the other little
girls in the school looked old. She was quite, two years the youngest,
and it was soon very evident that she would establish that most
imperious of all reigns--a baby reign--in the school.
Hester fondled her and talked to her, and the little thing sat on her
knee and stroked her face.
"Me like 'oo, Hetty," she said several times, and she added many other
endearing and pretty words which caused Hester's heart to swell with
delight. She alone, of all the girls, had taken no notice of the new
plaything. She walked to her usual corner, sat down on the floor, and
began to play cup and ball for the benefit of two or three of the
smallest children. Hester did not regard her in the least; she sat with
Nan on her knee, stroking back her sunny curls, and remarking on her
various charms to several of the girls who sat round her.
"See, how pretty that dimple in her chin is," she said, "and oh, my pet,
your eyes look wiser, and bigger, and saucier than ever. Look at me,
Nan; look at your own Hetty."
Nan's attention, however, was diverted by the gayly-painted cup and ball
which Annie was using with her wonted dexterity.
"Dat a pitty toy," she said, giving one quick and rather solemn glance
at her sister, and again fixing her admiring gaze on the cup and ball.
Annie Forest had heard the words, and she darted a sudden, laughing look
at the little one. Annie's power over children was well-known. Nan
began to wriggle on Hester's knee.
"Dat a pitty lady," she said again, "and dat a pitty, tibby [little]
toy; Nan go see."
In an instant, before Hester could prevent her, she had trotted across
the room, and was kneeling with the other children and shouting with
delight over Annie's play.
"She'll get her, you'll see, Hester," said one of the girls maliciously;
"she'll soon be much fonder of Annie Forest than of you. Annie wins the
heart of every little child in the school."
"She won't win my Nan's from me," said Hester in a confident tone; but
in spite of her words a great pang of jealousy had gone through her.
She rose to her feet and followed her little sister.
"Nan, you are sleepy, you must go to bed."
"No, no, Hetty; me not s'eepy, me kite awake; go 'way, Hetty, Nan want
to see the pitty tibby toy."
Annie raised her eyes to Hester's. She did not really want to be
unkind, and at that moment it had certainly never entered into her head
to steal Hester's treasure from her, but she could not help a look of
suppressed delight and triumph filling her eyes.
Hester could scarcely bear the look; she stooped down, and taking one of
Nan's little dimpled hands tried to drag her away.
Instantly Annie threw the cup and ball on the floor.
"The play is all over to-night, little darling," she said; "give Annie
Forest one kiss, and run to bed with sister Hester."
Nan, who had been puckering up her face to cry, smiled instantly; then
she scrambled to her feet, and flung her little fat arms round Annie's
neck.
"Dat a vedy pitty p'ay," she said in a patronising tone, "and me like
'oo, me do."
Then she gave her hand willingly to Hester, and trotted out of the
play-room by her side.