Mrs Willis owned to herself that she was nonplussed; it was quite
impossible to allow Annie to neglect her studies, and yet little Nan's
health was still too precarious to allow her to run the risk of having
the child constantly fretted.
Suddenly a welcome idea occurred to her; she would write at once to
Nan's old nurse, and see if she could come to Lavender House for the
remainder of the present term. Mrs Willis dispatched her letter that
very day, and by the following evening the nurse was once more in
possession of her much-loved little charge. The habits of her babyhood
were too strong for Nan; she returned to them gladly enough, and though
in her heart of hearts she was still intensely loyal to Annie, she no
longer fretted when she was not with her.
Annie resumed her ordinary work and though Hester was very cold to her,
several of the other girls in the school frankly confided to their
favourite how much they had missed her, and how glad they were to have
her back with them once more.
Annie found herself at this time in an ever-shifting mood--one moment
she longed intensely for a kiss, and a fervent pardon from Mrs Willis's
lips; another, she said to herself defiantly she could and would live
without it; one moment the hungry and sorrowful look in Hester's eyes
went straight to Annie's heart, and she wished she might restore her
little treasure whom she had stolen; the next she rejoiced in her
strange power over Nan, and resolved to keep all the love she could get.
In short, Annie was in that condition when she could be easily
influenced for good or evil--she was in that state of weakness when
temptation is least easily resisted.
A few days after the arrival of Nan's nurse Mrs Willis was obliged
unexpectedly to leave home; a near relative was dangerously ill in
London, and the school-mistress went away in much trouble and anxiety.
Some of her favourite pupils flocked to the front entrance to see their
beloved mistress off. Amongst the group Cecil stood, and several girls
of the first-class; many of the little girls were also present, but
Annie was not amongst them. Just at the last moment she rushed up
breathlessly; she was tying some starry jasmine and some blue
forget-me-nots together, and as the carriage was moving off she flung
the charming bouquet into her mistress's lap.
Mrs Willis rewarded her with one of her old looks of confidence and
love; she raised the flowers to her lips and kissed them, and her eyes
smiled on Annie.
"Good-bye, dear," she called out; "good-bye, all my dear girls; I will
try and be back to-morrow night. Remember, my children, during my
absence I trust you."
The carriage disappeared down the avenue, and the group of girls melted
away. Cecil looked round for Annie, but Annie had been the first to
disappear.
When her mistress had kissed the flowers and smiled at her, Annie darted
into the shrubbery and stood there wiping the fast-falling tears from
her eyes. She was interrupted in this occupation by the sudden cries of
two glad and eager voices, and instantly her hands were taken, and some
girls rather younger than herself began to drag her in the opposite
direction through the shrubbery.
"Come, Annie--come at once, Annie, darling," exclaimed Phyllis and Nora
Raymond. "The basket has come; it's under the thick laurel-tree in the
back avenue. We are all waiting for you; we none of us will open it
till you arrive."
Annie's face, a truly April one, changed as if by magic. The tears
dried on her cheeks; her eyes filled with sunlight; she was all eager
for the coming fun.
"Then we won't lose a moment, Phyllis," she said; "we'll see what that
duck of a Betty has done for us."
The three girls scampered down the back avenue, where they found five of
their companions, amongst them Susan Drummond, standing in different
attitudes of expectation near a very large and low-growing laurel-tree.
Everyone raised a shout when Annie appeared; she was undoubtedly
recognised as queen and leader of the proceedings. She took her post
without an instant's hesitation, and began ordering her willing subjects
about.
"Now, is the coast clear? yes, I think so. Come, Susie, greedy as you
are, you must take your part. You alone of all of us can cackle with
the exact imitation of an old hen: get behind that tree at once and
watch the yard. Don't forget to cackle for your life if you even see
the shadow of a footfall. Norah, my pretty birdie, you must be the
thrush for the nonce; here, lake your post, watch the lawn and the front
avenue. Now then, girls, the rest of us can see what spoils Betty has
provided for us."
The basket was dragged from its hiding-place, and longing faces peered
eagerly and greedily into its contents.
"On, oh! I say, cherries! and what a lot! Good Betty! dear, darling
Betty! you gathered those from your own trees, and they are as ripe as
your apple-blossom cheeks! Now then, what next? I do declare,
meringues! Betty knew my weakness. Twelve meringues--that is one and a
half apiece; Susan Drummond sha'n't have more than her share. Meringues
and cheesecakes and--tartlets--oh! oh! what a duck Betty is! A
plum-cake--good, excellent Betty, she deserves to be canonised! What
have we here? Roast chickens--better and better! What is in this
parcel? Slices of ham; Betty knew she dare not show her face again if
she forgot the ham. Knives and forks, spoons--fresh rolls--salt and
pepper, and a dozen bottles of ginger-beer, and a little corkscrew in
case we want it."
These various exclamations came from many lips. The contents of the
basket were carefully and tenderly replaced, the lid was fastened down,
and it was once more consigned to its hiding-place under the thick
boughs of the laurel.
Not a moment too soon, for just at this instant Susan cackled fiercely,
and the little group withdrew, Annie first whispering--
"At twelve to-night, then, girls--oh, yes, I have managed the key."