A Modern Tomboy

_A Story for Girls_

By MRS. L. T. MEADE

AUTHOR OF

"The Girls of Castle Rocco, " "Girls of the True Blue, " "The SchoolQueens, " "The School Favorite, " Etc. 

A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

A MODERN TOMBOY. 

CHAPTER I. 

OPENING THE SCHOOL. 

Mrs. Merriman and Lucy were standing at the white gates of Sunnyside, waiting for the arrival of the girls. Mrs. Merriman had soft brown hair, soft brown eyes to match, and a kindly, gentle face. Lucy was somewhatprim, very neat in her person, with thick fair hair which she wore intwo long plaits far below her waist, a face full of intensity anddetermination, and a slightly set and formal way of speaking. 

"Aren't you at all excited about their arrival?" said Mrs. Merriman, turning to her daughter as she spoke. "It will make a great change inthe house, will it not?"

"How many of them are there, mother?" was Lucy's response. 

"Oh, my dear child, how often I have explained all to you! There's LauraEverett, my dear friend Lady Everett's only daughter; then there isAnnie Millar, whom I do not know anything about--but she is a friend ofLaura's, and that alone is recommendation enough. "

"Laura Everett, Annie Millar, " quoted Lucy in a low tone. "Have you seeneither of them, mother?"

"No, dear, of course not. "

"Has father ever seen them?"

"No. But my dear friend Lady Everett----"

"Oh, mother darling, when have you seen your dear friend?"

"Not since we were girls. But it is so nice to think she should trusther daughter to me. "

"Well, yes, mother, I suppose so. I suppose I must be quite satisfied. Well, that means two--Laura and Annie. How old are they, mother?"

"They are both fourteen. "

"Then the others, mother?"

"Rosamund Cunliffe. I did meet her mother a year ago, who told me shewas very pretty. I remember that. Then there is Phyllis Flower. Think ofany one with such a dear name--Phyllis and Flower! The whole name is toosweet! I told your father that I knew I should fall in love withPhyllis. "

"Mother dear, you really mustn't make favorites, " said Lucy in areproving tone. "If these girls must come to us and form the beginningof a school, why, we must behave accordingly. You are not half as steadyas I am, mother, and I am fifteen, and you are----"

"Forty-five, " said Mrs. Merriman; "but then I only feel twenty, and I amvery happy about all this. The house is perfectly arranged, everythingin apple-pie order, and they will have such a good time, dear girls!Well, now, let us count them over. Laura Everett, fourteen; AnnieMillar, ditto; Rosamund Cunliffe, fifteen; and Phyllis Flower, thirteen. Then there is Jane Denton. Well, I know nothing whatever about herexcept that her mother says she is a good girl, and does her utmost tolearn, and she is sure will be absolutely obedient. Then comes AgnesSparkes. I quite expect she will be the witty one. Altogether that makessix girls, and you, my dear, are the seventh--the perfect number, youknow. "

"And the whole house turned topsy-turvy!" said Lucy. "Really and truly, mother, I wish we had thought it over before we did anything so queer. "

"We could not help it, love. Your father's health is very bad, and hecannot continue his work as a professor. There is no other manner inwhich to earn money. Why not take the whole thing cheerfully, Lucy?Remember, you will have your education practically free. "

"I don't suppose I'd mind the girls so very much, " said Lucy, "if itwere not for the horrid governesses. To think of having a creature likeMademoiselle Omont living in the house! And then, I am not specially inlove with Miss Archer. But there, I suppose we must make the best ofit. "

"We must, and will, and can, " said Mrs. Merriman in her cheery voice. 

She had scarcely said the words before a wagonette was seen driving downthe summer lane. Girls in different-colored dresses, with bright faces, eager eyes, suddenly appeared in view. The wagonette drew up at thegate, and Mrs. Merriman, to Lucy's disgust, went impulsively forward. 

"Here you all are, dears!" she said. "Oh, I am so glad to welcome you!Now, you must tell me who's who. Won't you get down? It will be nice tostretch your legs in walking up the avenue. Your luggage, of course, iscoming in the cart which was sent to meet the train. --Tell me, my love, are you Laura Everett?"

Mrs. Merriman darted forward and took the somewhat irresponsive hand ofa tall, pale girl, who replied languidly that her name was Jane Denton. 

"I beg your pardon, dear--I do truly. Then which is Laura? For I want towelcome the dear child of a very dear friend of my youth. "

A girl with a merry face, bright blue eyes, and fair hair now extricatedherself from the group of her companions. "I am Laura, " she said, "andthis is my friend Annie. "

Mrs. Merriman rapturously kissed both girls. 

"Welcome to Sunnyside!" she said. "You may be certain I will do myutmost to make you happy. This is my daughter Lucy. "

"Can I show you the house, Miss Everett?" said Lucy, speaking stiffly;"and will you come, too, Miss Millar?"

The three girls went on in front. 

"I must get to know the rest of you, " said Mrs. Merriman, who was toomuch accustomed to Lucy to mind her ways. "Which is--now let meguess--which is Phyllis Flower? I am longing to know her. And which isRosamund Cunliffe?--Jane Denton, I shall not forget you, dear. I am soglad to see you. "

Here Mrs. Merriman gave Jane's hand an affectionate squeeze. 

"And Agnes Sparkes--I have not noticed Agnes Sparkes. I am sureyou--whoever you are, but I can't quite make out yet--will be the wit ofthe school. Ah! you are Agnes Sparkes?" and Mrs. Merriman pounced upon asmall, very thin, dark girl, with no beauty whatever about her. 

A peal of laughter greeted her ears. "Indeed, I am Phyllis Flower, " saidthe young lady in question; and Mrs. Merriman started back with a lookof disappointment. "You thought because I had rather a pretty name thatI'd look it, " continued the girl. "But I do not--I am neither witty norbeautiful, and I know I am not clever. I have got just nothing but myname. I'd rather like to live up to it; but somehow I don't think I can. Perhaps I may at Sunnyside. It seems such a novel idea to come to a sortof home school like this, and not to be treated a bit formally. Thankyou so much, Mrs. Merriman!" and Phyllis held out a small, neatlygloved hand and clasped Mrs. Merriman's, looking at her all the timewith delight beaming in her eyes. 

The other girls followed suit. They managed to introduce themselves oneby one, and presently Mrs. Merriman was seen trotting contentedly downthe avenue, followed by her new pupils. She looked something like awell-groomed pony herself, and the girls were much amused at her way ofgreeting them, and so thoroughly pleased that peals of laughter reachedthe displeased ears of Lucy, who was waiting with Annie and Laura in theporch. 

"Really, " thought Lucy, "poor mother gets worse and worse. What sort ofschool will this be? Not the slightest vestige of order, and all thesegirls being spoken to at the gate. Mother has no dignity. It is reallyterrible. I shall be glad when Miss Archer and Mademoiselle Omont come. How are we to spend the present evening?"

The girls themselves seemed to arrange that matter. Having lost allshyness with regard to Mrs. Merriman, they were not likely to feel ittowards Lucy. They accordingly requested to be taken into the house, andwere much pleased with the arrangements made for their comfort. The oldhouse of Sunnyside was one of the prettiest in the southwest of England. It had spacious grounds, beautiful gardens, and the rooms themselves, although somewhat low, were large and numerous. One or two girls had aroom each, and the others were arranged two in a room, with a curtainbetween. 

When Mrs. Merriman started the idea of a small school for the specialeducation of special girls, she had spared no expense to have everythingdone in as thoroughly nice a manner as possible; and the girlsthemselves were delighted, and showed their appreciation by behaving ina hoydenish and school-girl fashion. They laughed and joked with eachother, declaring that Mrs. Merriman was quite too funny for anything, but that she was also an old dear; that Lucy was rather a nuisance, andvery prim, but that she shouldn't stand much in their way. And then theypaced about in the garden arm-in-arm, and talked to one another, just, as Lucy said afterwards, as though they had lived there all their lives. 

Poor Lucy in every respect was her mother's opposite. Neither did shespecially take after her gentle, patient father, who was alwayssatisfied to make the best of things, his motto being peace on anyterms, and who was surprised now when Lucy ran up to him as he waspacing up and down in the walnut walk at some distance from the house. 

"Ah, my little girl!" he said when he saw her approaching. "Why, what isthe matter? How flushed your cheeks are!"

"And no wonder, father, " answered Lucy. "If you could flush up atanything you'd feel hot and indignant now. Oh, father dear, I wish--Iwish we weren't obliged to have those detestable girls!"

"What, Lucy! Have they come?"

"I should think they have. They'll waylay you in a minute or two. "

"Oh, no, my dear. I don't specially want to see them now. "

"Then let us go straight by this gate into the paddock. I don't supposethey will find the paddock before to-morrow. Father, I don't thinkmother is at all suited to keep a school. "

"Lucy, I will not have your dear mother abused. Talk on any othersubject, but I can't stand that. "

"I suppose it is very wrong of me. "

"It is more than wrong. You can scarcely realize what a good, brave, andnoble woman she is. Who but she would have acted as she has done lately?She has taken the bull by the horns and saved us from absolute ruin. Byher plucky ways and determination has she not just kept our heads abovewater? My dear Lucy, you little know what might have happened but foryour mother's pluck and bravery. "

"I know, " said Lucy, softened on the spot. "But if she onlywouldn't--wouldn't make so free with them when they come, and if theremight be a little order, and if they could have been postponed till theresident governesses had arrived. But now they are there, all of them, as merry and jocular as you like, running about the place, racing hereand there, and devouring all our best fruit, tramping in and out of thegreenhouses and conservatory, and making such a noise just over yourstudy. It would be much better to give up Sunnyside--anything would bebetter than this. "

"I don't think so, and you will find after a time that you will likeyour school friends. Your education will be finished without any extracost whatever. We are being very well paid for these girls, we know theyare all ladies, and your mother will be happy and in her element. Howcould you turn your dear mother into a precise, stately woman? It isn'tin her, and you would not wish it to be. "

"I don't know, " said Lucy. "I think I would. But, father, you alwaysmake me ashamed of myself. You, who suffer so much, are so good, sopatient. "

"If I am good and patient it is because of my dear wife and my deardaughter, " said the man sadly. "And now, Lucy darling, go back to themall and try to help your mother. The governesses will come to-morrow, and the day after lessons will begin. In a week's time you will seeperfect order arising out of chaos, and you will be surprised at yourpresent feelings. "

Lucy raised her father's hand to her lips. She loved her mother, but sheadored him, with his slight stoop, his scholarly face, his gentle smile, his kindly eyes. There were few men more beloved than ProfessorMerriman. He had given some really great books to the world, and was ascholar in the truest and best sense of the word. When he instructedLucy, which he did now and then, she regarded those moments as thehappiest and most sacred of her life. 

"Well, whatever happens, I have got him, " she thought as she turned togo back to the house. "And if it adds any years to his precious life, surely I can endure anything. But I do hope he won't get to like any ofthose girls. Perhaps he will. Perhaps he will even offer to teach someof them. I sincerely trust none of them are clever. Oh, who is thisqueer little creature coming to meet me?"

The queer little creature in question, dressed in brown holland, with asmall brown hat and cotton gloves, was no other than Phyllis Flower. Sheran up to Lucy, and stood in front of her, and said, "Is your fatherreally the great Professor Ralph Merriman?"

"Yes, " said Lucy, coloring and smiling, for it was delightful to her tohear the appreciative tone in Phyllis's voice. 

"I thought so, but I was not quite sure. Agnes Sparkes and I werearguing about it. Agnes said it couldn't be, but I said it was. I amvery glad. I hope we shall see him sometimes. "

"He is not well, " said Lucy. "He can't be disturbed. "

"We would none of us dream of disturbing him; but we would love to lookat him sometimes, and perhaps sometimes to hear him speak. "

"I dare say you will see him. When he is well enough he will dine withus, " said Lucy. "But you must not expect"----

"Oh, we expect nothing--nothing certainly from you, " said PhyllisFlower, flushing angrily, for there was a tone in Lucy's voice which shecould scarcely stand. Then she, continued, "Why are you determined notto be nice to us, Miss Merriman?"

"You had better call me Lucy, " said the girl after a pause. "We are allgirls together. You are at school and I am at school. "

"How old are you, Lucy?"

"I am fifteen. "

"And I am thirteen and a half. How old do you think I look?"

"Oh, any age. You are so thin. "

"And wizened, " laughed Phyllis. "Well, never mind. I dare say I shallgrow tall enough by-and-by. Now, my dear, " she continued after a pause, "you have nothing whatever to be jealous of in me. I am not clever, I amnot good-looking; in short, I am nothing at all, just the most ordinaryperson. But I can tell you something about the characters of your otherschool-fellows if you like. Would you care? There is plenty of time. Shall we walk up and down for a little?"

Lucy could not resist the temptation. Phyllis, who was quite as frankand free as Mrs. Merriman herself, laid her hand on Lucy's arm. Lucyshuddered, but submitted. 

"The person who has got the greatest character among us is RosamundCunliffe. She will rule us all. "

"She won't rule me, " interrupted Lucy angrily. 

"You can't help it, my dear. She has always ruled every one with whomshe comes in contact; and she does it quite nicely, too, for she isn'tunamiable. She simply has a strong character. "

"I hardly know what she is like, " said Lucy. 

"Oh, you must have observed her--that tall, dark, pretty-looking girl, with rosy cheeks and a pretty mouth. "

"Yes, I think I know whom you mean. "

"And she is clever, too. But I don't think it is her beauty or hertalent that makes her curious charm. It is something beyond all this. Inever saw her do a really unamiable thing, and yet I think she mustlove power very much. You will soon find out for yourself what she islike. As for Janey Denton, she is just a good sort, something like me. And Laura Everett is very proud of her family, and she is clever. AndAnnie Millar is Laura's shadow, and does nothing whatever except whatLaura wishes. Then there is Agnes Sparkes. She is supposed to be myfriend, and she is very pretty, fair, and lively and clever. But of allthe girls who have come here to-day the two who will make their mark inthe world are beyond doubt Rosamund Cunliffe and Laura Everett. Now, Ithink I will let you find out the rest for yourself. "

CHAPTER II. 

ROSAMUND TAKES THE LEAD. 

Before that day had come to an end, Lucy had discovered how true werePhyllis Flower's words. For Rosamund Cunliffe, without making herself inthe least disagreeable, without saying one single rude thing, yetmanaged to take the lead, and that so effectively that even Lucy herselffound that she could not help following in her train. 

For instance, after dinner, when the girls--all of them rather tired, and perhaps some of them a little cross, and no one exactly knowing whatto do--clustered about the open drawing-room windows, it was Rosamundwho proposed that the rugs should be rolled back and that they shouldhave a dance. 

Lucy opened her eyes. Nobody before had ever dared to make such asuggestion in the house of Sunnyside. Lucy, it is true, had dancinglessons from a master who came once a week to instruct her and othergirls in the winter season, and she had occasionally gone to achildren's party. But beyond that she had never danced, looking forwardto it, however, as a possible recreation by-and-by. 

Rosamund's clear voice was now heard. 

"Let us push back the sofas. This is a splendid room. We can roll up therugs in a twinkling. Where is Mrs. Merriman? She will play the dancemusic. Oh, there are seven of us--one too many. Perhaps you will playfor us, Lucy?"

"But I don't know any dance music, " said Lucy; "and then mother wouldnot like the rugs being disturbed. The room is arranged just as fatherand mother wish it to be. I think perhaps"----

She colored painfully. 

"We will do nothing without leave, of course, " said Phyllis Flower. "I'll just run and find Mrs. Merriman and ask her. "

Before Lucy could prevent her, Phyllis had darted out of the room, returning in a minute or two with the required permission. 

"It's all right, girls, " she said; "we can trip it on the lightfantastic toe as long as ever we please, and the rugs may go toHong-kong for all Mrs. Merriman cares. "

Lucy colored with rage. Rosamund gave a quiet smile--a smile whichseemed to denote power. Phyllis's dancing eyes lit for a moment onLucy's face. Those eyes said in the most provoking manner, "I told youso. " And then some one went to the piano, and a minute or two later allthe girls, Lucy included, were dancing round and round the room in themerry waltz. 

Even Lucy enjoyed it when once it had begun, and the little performer atthe piano played well, and kept excellent time. And by-and-by Lucyforgot herself, and could not help laughing when Rosamund seized herround the waist and whirled her round and round, and taught her toreverse, and instructed her in one or two other matters unknown to Lucyup to the present. 

The dance lasted for over an hour; and just in the midst of it, whenLucy was really laughing in quite a heart-whole manner, she raised hereyes and saw no less a person than Mr. Merriman himself standing in thedoorway. He was smiling, and his eyes were fixed on Rosamund's face. 

The moment Rosamund saw him she stopped at once, and said to Lucy, "Isthat your father, the great professor?"

"Yes, " said Lucy. 

"Please introduce him to me. "

Lucy longed to say, "It will tire him; I can't do it. " She longed togive any sort of excuse, but none would come to her lips. She was forcedto take Rosamund up to Mr. Merriman. 

"This is Rosamund Cunliffe, " she said, "and she wants to know you, father. "

"I am very much pleased to see you, Miss Cunliffe, " said Mr. Merriman;and then Rosamund stood in the doorway and talked. 

Lucy went back and tried to dance with another girl, and the dance musicstill went on. But she could not help straining her ears and trying tocatch the subject of Rosamund's conversation. Why, she was absolutelylaughing, and the Professor, who was generally so grave and quiet, waslaughing also. What did it all mean?

"Father, aren't you tired?--Miss Cunliffe, you are tiring father, " saidLucy at last, running up to the door and trying to speak calmly. 

"No, my dear, " said her father. "On the contrary, I am intenselyinterested. --You must tell me that story again, Miss Cunliffe. Would youlike to come and see my library?"

The two went off together, and Lucy felt almost as though she must burstinto tears. Phyllis's eyes again met her face, and she had to restrainher feelings. The "I told you so" look was too maddening almost forendurance. 

Rosamund's love of power showed itself further in the arrangement of herbedroom. She took down the dividing curtain between herself and JaneDenton without asking any one's permission; and she slept in the bedintended for Jane, and rearranged the drawers, putting them into anotherpart of the room; and complained about the wardrobe, saying that shewould like it put opposite the door instead of in its present position. And whatever she wished was immediately done, and whatever she said wassaid so politely that no one took offense. And Lucy had to confess toherself that Phyllis was right, and that Rosamund would be a power--theleading power--in the school. 

Early the next day the two teachers arrived. Mademoiselle Omont was veryFrench in appearance, very dark, with sparkling black eyes and neatlyarranged soft dark hair. She had a truly Parisian accent, and a pretty, graceful way about her. Miss Archer was a stolid-looking woman of aboutfive-and-thirty years of age. She had a long talk, on her arrival, withMrs. Merriman, and then she went to her room and stayed there for somelittle time, so that it was not until tea-time that the girls and thetwo resident governesses met. 

Lucy looked with great approbation at Miss Archer when she took her seatopposite the tea-tray. 

"She will bring order into this chaos, " thought the girl. "She willforce all these girls to behave properly. She will insist on order. Isee it in her face. "

But as the thought passed through Lucy's mind, Rosamund jumped suddenlyup from her own place, requested Phyllis Flower to change with her, andsat down close to Miss Archer. During tea she talked to the Englishgoverness in a low tone, asking her a great many questions, andevidently impressing her very much in her favor. 

"Oh, dear!" thought Lucy, "if this sort of thing goes on I shall lose mysenses. If there is to be any order, if the whole scheme which motherhas thought out so carefully, and father has approved of, means toestablish a girl like Rosamund Cunliffe here as our leader, so that weare forced to do every single thing she wishes, I shall beg and imploreof father and mother to let me go and live with Aunt Susan in the oldRectory at Dartford. "

Lucy's cheeks were flushed, and she could scarcely keep the tears backfrom her eyes. After tea, however, as she was walking about in front ofthe house, wondering if she should ever know a happy moment again, MissArcher made her appearance. When she saw Lucy she called her at once toher side. 

"What a nice girl Rosamund Cunliffe seems!" was her first remark. 

"Oh! don't begin by praising her, " said Lucy. "I don't think I can quitestand it. "

"What is the matter, my dear? You are little Lucy Merriman, are younot--the daughter of Mrs. Merriman and the Professor?"

"I am. "

"And this house has always been your home?"

"I was born here, " said Lucy almost tearfully. 

"Then, of course, you feel rather strange at first with all these girlsscattered about the place. But when lessons really begin, and you getinto working order, you will be different. You will have to take yourplace with the others in class, and everything is to be conducted asthough it were a real school. "

"I will do anything you wish, " said Lucy, and she turned a white face, almost of despair, towards Miss Archer. "I will do anything in all theworld you wish if you will promise me one thing. "

Miss Archer felt inclined to say, "What possible reason have you toexpect that I should promise you anything?" but she knew human nature, and guessed that Lucy was troubled. 

"Tell me what you wish, " she said. 

"I want you not to make a favorite of Rosamund Cunliffe. Already she hasbegun to upset everything--last night all the drawing-room arrangements, her own bedroom afterwards; then, to-day, the other girls have donenothing but obey her. If this goes on, how is order to be maintained?"

Miss Archer looked thoughtful. 

"From the little I have seen of Rosamund, she seems to be a very amiableand clever girl, " she said. "She evidently has a great deal of strengthof character, and cannot help coming to the front. We must be patientwith her, Lucy. "

Lucy felt a greater ache than ever at her heart. She was certain thatMiss Archer was already captivated by Rosamund's charms. What was she todo? To whom was she to appeal? It would be quite useless to speak to hermother, for her mother had already fallen in love with Rosamund; andindeed she had with all the young girls who had arrived such a shorttime ago. Mrs. Merriman was one of the most affectionate people onearth. She had the power of taking an unlimited number of girls, andboys, too, into her capacious heart. She could be spent for them, andlive for them, and never once give a thought to herself. Now, inaddition to the pleasure of having so many young people in the house, she knew she was helping her husband and relieving his mind from weightycares. The Professor could, therefore, go on with the writing of hisgreat work on Greek anthology; even if the money for this uniquetreatise came in slowly, there would be enough to keep the little familyfrom the products of the school. Yes, he should be uninterrupted, andshould proceed at his leisure, and give up the articles which weresimply wearing him into an early grave. 

Lucy knew, therefore, that no sympathy could be expected from hermother. It is true that her father might possibly understand; but then, dared she worry him? He had been looking very pale of late. His healthwas seriously undermined, and the doctors had spoken gravely of hiscase. He must be relieved. He must have less tension, otherwise theresults would be attended with danger. And Lucy loved him, as she alsoloved her mother, with all her heart and soul. 

When Miss Archer left her, having nothing particular to do herself andbeing most anxious to avoid the strange girls, she went up the avenue, and passing through a wicket-gate near the entrance, walked along by theside of a narrow stream where all sorts of wild flowers were alwaysgrowing. Here might be seen the blue forget-me-not, the meadow-sweet, great branches of wild honeysuckle, dog-roses, and many other flowerstoo numerous to mention. As a rule, Lucy loved flowers, as most countrygirls do; but she had neither eyes nor ears for them to-day. She wasthinking of her companions, and how she was to tolerate them. And as shewalked she saw in a bend in the road, coming to meet her, a stout, elderly, very plainly dressed woman. 

Lucy stood still for an instant, and then uttered a perfect shout ofwelcome, and ran into the arms of her aunt Susan. 

Mrs. Susan Brett was the wife of a hard-working clergyman in a townabout ten miles away. She had no children of her own, and devoted herwhole time to helping her husband in his huge parish. She spent littleor no money on dress, and was certainly a very plain woman. She had alarge, pale face, somewhat flat, with wide nostrils, a long upper lip, small pale-blue eyes, and a somewhat bulgy forehead. Plain sheundoubtedly was, but no one who knew her well ever gave her looks athought, so genial was her smile, so hearty her hand-clasp, sosympathetic her words. She was beloved by her husband's parishioners, and in especial she was loved by Lucy Merriman, who had a sort offascination in watching her and in wondering at her. 

From time to time Lucy had visited the Bretts in their small Rectory inthe town of Dartford. Nobody in all the world could be more welcome tothe child in her present mood than her aunt Susan, and she ran forwardwith outstretched arms. 

"Oh, Aunt Susy, I am glad to see you! But what has brought you to-day?"

"Why, this, my dear, " said Mrs. Brett. "I just had three hours to sparewhile William was busy over his sermon for next Sunday. He is writing anew sermon--he hasn't done that for quite six months--and he said hewanted the house to himself, and no excuse for any one to come in. Andhe just asked me if I'd like to have a peep into the country; thatalways means a visit to Sunnyside. So I said I'd look up the trains, andof course there was one just convenient, so I clapped on my hat--youdon't mind it being my oldest one--and here I am. "

"Oh, I am so glad!" said Lucy. "I think I wanted you, Aunt Susan, morethan any one else in all the world. "

She tucked her hand through her aunt's arm as she spoke, and they turnedand walked slowly along by the riverside. 

Mrs. Brett, if she had a plain face, had by no means a correspondinglyplain soul. On the contrary, it was attuned to the best, the richest, the highest in God's world. She could see the loveliness of trees, ofriver, of flowers. She could listen to the song of the wild birds, andthank her Maker that she was born into so good a world. Nothing restedher, as she expressed it, like a visit into the country. Nothing madethe dreadful things she had often to encounter in town seem moreendurable than the sweet-peas, the roses, the green trees, the greengrass, the fragrance and perfume of the country; and when she saw herlittle niece--for she was very fond of Lucy--looking discontented andunhappy, Mrs. Brett at once perceived a reason for her unexpected visitto Sunnyside. 

"We needn't go too fast, need we?" she said. "If we go down this path, and note the flowers--aren't the flowers lovely, Lucy?"----

"Yes, " replied Lucy. 

"We shall be in time for tea, shall we not? But tell me, how is yourfather, dear? I see you are in trouble of some sort. Is he worse?"

"No, Aunt Susy; I think he is better. He has had better nights of late, and mother is not so anxious about him. "

"Then what is the worry, my love, for worry of some sort there doubtlessis?"

"It is the girls, Aunt Susy. "

"What girls, my love?"

"Those girls that mother has invited to finish their education atSunnyside. They came yesterday, and the teachers, Mademoiselle Omont andMiss Archer, arrived to-day. And the girls don't suit me--I suppose I amso accustomed to being an only child. I cannot tell you exactly why, butI haven't been a bit myself since they came. "

"A little bit jealous, perhaps, " said Aunt Susan, giving a quick glanceat Lucy's pouting face, then turning away with a sigh. 

"You will be surprised, Lucy, " she continued after a pause, "when I tellyou that I used to be fearfully jealous when I was young. It was mybesetting sin. "

"Oh, Aunt Susy, I simply don't believe it!"

"You don't? Then I will show you some day, when you and I are having asnug evening at the old Rectory at Dartford, a letter I once receivedfrom my dear father. He took great pains to point out to me my specialfault, as he called it; and his words had a wonderful effect, and I wentstraight to the only source of deliverance, and by slow degrees I lostthat terrible feeling which took all the sunshine out of my life. "

"Tell me more, please, Aunt Susan, " said Lucy. 

"Well, you see, dear, I was not like yourself an only child. I was oneof several, and I was quite the plain one of the family. I am very plainnow, as you perceive; but I had two beautiful little sisters. They wereyounger than I, and Florence had quite a beautiful little face, and sohad Janet. Wherever they went they were admired and talked about, and Iwas thought nothing of. Then I had three brothers, and they weregood-looking, too, and strong, and had excellent abilities, and peoplethought a great deal about them; but no one thought anything about me. Iwas the eldest, but I was never counted one way or the other as of theslightest consequence. My people were quite rich, and Florence and Janetwere beautifully dressed, and taken down to the drawing-room to seevisitors; but I was never noticed at all. I could go if I liked, but itdid not gratify anybody, so by degrees I stayed away. You do not knowwhat bitter feelings I had in my heart, for they really were undeniablysome of the most attractive children you could possibly find; andFlorence was so witty, and Janet so delicate and refined and sweet inall her ways! I could not be angry with them, but I did think itfearfully unfair that so many blessings should be poured on their headsand so few given to me, for I was not even specially clever. 

"Then I thought I would make a friend of my brother Roger. He was a veryfine fellow, and for a time I did get into his confidence, and I wasfairly happy. But he went to Rugby, and at Christmas he brought some ofhis school-fellows back with him, and they paid the most absurdattentions to Florence and Janet, and they snubbed me; and I supposeRoger, poor dear! was weak enough to be influenced by them, for he tookno notice of me either, so you can just imagine what a bad time I had. 

"Well, my dear, one day there came a letter from an old cousin askingeither of the two girls, Florence or Janet, or myself, to go to staywith her in the country. She had a very nice house, and a pony and trap, and she could take us about and give us a good time. My mother wasexceedingly anxious that the twins--I forgot to tell you that they weretwins--should go, and she said so to me. She said they wanted change ofair, as they were looking quite cooped up in our poky town. But I said, 'I am the eldest, and I don't see why I shouldn't have the pleasure ofgoing, as I also have been invited. I mean it is only fair to give methe first chance. '

"Then she said, 'I think that is quite fair, and you shall have thefirst chance, Susan;' and so I went. 

"Florence and Janet were not a bit angry, poor dears! They kissed me andhelped me to pack my things, and Florence offered me one of herprettiest necklaces, and Janet some wonderful embroidered gloves whichhad been given to her by Roger at Christmas. But I was too jealous toaccept any of their trinkets, and I went away with a sore feeling in myheart. Ah, Lucy! that was a long time ago. "

Aunt Susan paused. A spasm of pain crossed her face. After a time shesaid slowly, "I enjoyed myself for a week or two. Then came news fromhome. The fever which had been lurking in the town for some time reachedour house, and the two beautiful little twins were smitten with it. Andbefore I could hear again they were both dead. Had I given up my ownway, and let them go to see my old cousin, they might have been alivenow. "

"But you--you might have taken the fever. Oh! I think it is fearfullysad; but how could you know? And you could not be blamed--you could notreally be blamed, " said Lucy with great earnestness. 

"Perhaps not, " said Aunt Susan, recovering herself on the spot. "And Ido not mean to be morbid about it; only, at the time, my consciencetroubled me, and your poor aunty had a very bad time. It was soonafterwards that my dear father wrote to me, and I shall always keep hisletter. Since then I have never been jealous of any one, and I wouldadvise you to lay my story to heart, Lucy, and to do your utmost to keepdown the seeds of jealousy, for they make a man or woman miserable, andthey do no good in the world. "

Lucy did not know why Aunt Susan's talk affected her so much. She stillkept her hand on the old lady's arm, and they walked slowly up to thehouse. As they were approaching it she said suddenly, "Now that I haveseen you, I mean to do my very best. I know it is remarkably brave ofmother to have started the school and to have the girls here, and I knowI ought to help her, and not to be cross because her ideas are not myideas. And I will try, and I will remember your story and what you havesaid, for you always suit me, and you always understand me, Aunt Susan. But may I ask you one thing, one great favor?"

"What is that, my dear?" asked her aunt. 

"If I find matters quite intolerable, may I come to you for a week tothe Rectory at Dartford--just for one week? Will you invite me?"

"You have a hearty welcome, child. You know what it is like:soup-kitchens, mothers' meeting, coal-tickets, reading aloud to thechildren, rushing about from this place to the other trying to helpthose who cannot help themselves. It will do you good, Lucy, and ofcourse you shall come. "

CHAPTER III. 

A GYPSY TEA. 

Lessons were not to begin until the following morning, and the sixboarders were feeling in consequence a trifle disconsolate. They did notknow what to do with themselves. They had explored the place the daybefore. They had visited the kitchen-garden and the flower-garden, andthe paddocks and the shrubberies and the lawns, and they had wandereddown towards the river. There seemed to be nothing special to do. Thetennis-lawn was not properly mowed for tennis, and anyhow the net wasnot out, and there seemed to be no croquet-ground anywhere. Inconsequence, there was nothing whatever to do but to pace up and downunder the shadow of the trees a little way from the house. 

Rosamund Cunliffe walked with Phyllis Flower, Jane Denton with AgnesSparkes, and Laura Everett with her special friend and factotum, AnnieMillar. They were all good-natured, kind-hearted girls, ready to makethe best of things; but as they walked now, pacing up and down, Rosamundsuddenly stopped, faced round, and addressed the rest of her companions. 

"Well, girls, " she said, "I must say that I think we are placed in arather disagreeable position at Sunnyside. "

"What do you mean?" asked Laura, opening her wide blue eyes to theirfullest extent. 

"Why, can't you judge for yourself? That little Lucy Merriman isdetermined to be disagreeable to us. We cannot get her to make herselfthe least pleasant; whatever we do she interprets in the wrong manner, and how we are to keep the peace I don't know. I am sure I don't wantto dislike her or be disagreeable to her; but she is at home, and we arestrangers. She is exceedingly ill-bred, there is no doubt of that. Whyshould we put up with it? Ought we not at once to declare ourindependence, and to let her know that as we pay--or, rather, ourparents pay for us--a very good sum for our education, she is bound atleast not to make herself obnoxious?"

"Oh, I don't think she is obnoxious, " said Agnes Sparkes. "She is just alittle bit jealous. I used to be jealous of a girl once. It is a horridsensation. "

"Oh, my dear!" said Rosamund slowly, stamping her foot in her endeavorto speak with emphasis, "it is absolutely ridiculous for any one to giveway to those morbid feelings in these days. If her mother wished us tocome here to be educated, I suppose she had her good reasons for it, andthat Lucy should be such a goose is really past enduring. "

"I quite agree with what you say, " replied Laura in her quiet voice, "and my only remedy is this: don't take the least notice of her. "

"But that is not so easy when she pokes her disagreeable little face inat every turn. "

"And her still more disagreeable little words, " said Phyllis Flower. 

"Now, Phyllis, don't you make mischief, " said Annie Millar. "You knowperfectly well that you are cleverer than the whole lot of us puttogether, whether you like to acknowledge it or not. "

"I am not a bit clever, and I always say so, " was Phyllis's response. "Ihave got far less than most people: no looks, no stature, no abilities. No one need ever come to me for anything, for I have nothing to give, having got nothing for myself. "

"You have one gift, dear, " said Rosamund, looking at her kindly; "youare an excellent listener, and you can make as pertinent a remark asany one in the school. I maintain that I consider you clever, and youwill prove my words before many terms are over. "

"But the point now, " said Laura, "is Lucy. We begin lessons to-morrow. Ishould say that Miss Archer is an exceedingly nice woman--in fact, sheis vastly superior to most--and the French governess is very good, too. They are both busy arranging our work for us; and of course we shallhave masters innumerable, and several mistresses also, and we shall goto Dartford twice a week for lessons, so we shall be just as busy asbees. I think the only plan is to let Lucy alone. "

It was while this conversation was going on, and the girls were standingtogether in a group, that Mrs. Brett, accompanied by no less a personthan Lucy herself, appeared in view. Lucy shrank from the six girls whostood together under one of the big elm-trees, and she was about toloosen her hold of Mrs. Brett's arm, but that good lady drew herforward. 

"Now come, Lucy; don't be silly. Now is your chance. I want to beintroduced to those nice girls. Exceedingly nice they look, and pleasantcompanions they will be for you. Come and do your duty, my love. "

"Oh, if only mother had such dignified manners!" thought the girl. Shefound herself yielding to Mrs. Brett's commands, and in a minute wasstanding amongst the other girls, introducing one after another to thewife of the rector of Dartford. 

"My dears, I am heartily glad to see you, " said Aunt Susan in hercheerful voice. "I am Aunt Susan, or Aunty Susy, to all the world, andany one who comes to Dartford finds his or her way to my cosy littlebower sooner or later. Lucy is a special friend of mine. --Aren't you, Lucy?"

"You are my aunt, remember, " said Lucy in a choking voice. 

"She is her aunt, remember, " said Phyllis Flower in a sort of mockingtone. 

The other girls tittered. Mrs. Brett's calm voice continued: "I am avery plain old woman; I have no youth to boast of, and no looks to boastof; but I think I have got a somewhat capacious heart, and it is amplywilling to take you all in if you wish to come. Now, let me see. This isWednesday. I think you will come to Dartford on Saturday for lessons. Will you all come and have tea with me? You shall meet my husband, whois a very jolly sort of man, and we can show you some of ourcuriosities, which we have collected from time to time in our scantytravels. We are precious poor, so you mustn't expect anything but a veryplain tea--bread and butter and jam; but you will have enough, and thatis something, and you will see the inside of a plain working-man'shouse. "

"Oh, Aunt Susy! Not a working-man!" said Lucy. 

"Yes, a working-man, my dear, " persisted Aunt Susy. "He is a minister ofthe Gospel, and he works hard for his Lord; and he is very proud of hisMaster, and very proud of the service among his Master's work-men. --So, girls, you can come if you like, or stay away if you like. We can all bevery jolly together. Do you accept my invitation?"

"Indeed, we shall be delighted, " said Agnes Sparkes eagerly. "What doyou say, Jane?" she continued, turning to Jane Denton. 

Jane Denton signified her approval with sparkling eyes, and the othergirls followed suit. 

"Well, that is settled, " said Mrs. Brett. "You may call me Aunt Susy, those of you who like. "

Lucy looked at her aunt almost as though she hated her at that moment. Mrs. Brett did not pretend to see the glance. 

"Now, " she said, "what are you going to do this afternoon? Why shouldnot we all go and have tea down by the river? Why shouldn't we? Yourmother wouldn't object, would she?"

"Oh, no; mother never objects to anything, " said Lucy, with a littlesigh. 

"But you do, don't you, Lucy?" said Rosamund in a low voice. 

"I dislike innovations, " said Lucy. 

Their eyes met. Rosamund's flashed angrily. Lucy felt that all thejealousy which she had promised Aunt Susan to bury for ever in a lowgrave was rising up stronger than before. Aunt Susan was in realitywatching her niece, and was quite determined to have her way. 

"Won't some one go into the house, " she said, addressing the girls in amass, "and ask Mrs. Merriman if you may yourselves carry down the cupsand saucers and teapot, and jam and bread and butter, and whatever isrequired for a gipsy tea? I have just one hour before I must trot backto catch my train, and during that hour I can help you to get it. Thereis a lovely bank just above the river, where we can make our gipsy fireand enjoy ourselves. "

Where was the _ennui_ now? Agnes Sparkes rushed off to fulfil Mrs. Brett's bidding. Lucy, ashamed, she knew not why, followed her moreslowly. In a few minutes, owing to Mrs. Brett's breezy talk, there wereseven girls, all apparently happy, very busily preparing tea. The firesoon crackled and blazed; the kettle quickly did its part by singingmerrily and boiling sturdily. Tea was made in the old brown teapot whichwas always kept for such occasions. How good it tasted in the open air!how different from any made indoors! No longer was Sunnyside a dullplace, for Mrs. Brett kept all the girls laughing with the funny storiesshe told and the extraordinary sort of free-and-easy manner in whichshe did everything. And yet she was so good-natured, so full of fun and_bonhomie_!

With regard to Rosamund, Mrs. Brett saw at once that she would be Lucy'sworst enemy, and she determined in her own mind to take the girl in tow. 

"I will just knock some of her pride out of her, to begin with, " thoughtthe good lady. 

Accordingly, when tea was over, and every scrap of bread and butter hadbeen consumed, she selected Rosamund as the person to wash up thetea-things. 

"Why me?" said Rosamund, opening her pretty brown eyes in someastonishment. 

"Because you are the tallest, and you look the strongest, " said AuntSusan. "Now, be quick about it. --Lucy, did you bring out the towel?"

"I did, " said Lucy; "and the little wooden bowl, and here is hot water. And do you want me to help, Aunt Susy?"

"Help, child? Of course you shall help. Rosamund shall wash and youshall dry. Now then, be as quick as ever you can. "

The two girls were thus brought face to face with each other. Mrs. Brettlooked at her watch, said that she had quite another ten minutes tospare, and suggested a walk down a favorite path, where they couldgather some delicate maidenhair which she happened to know grew there. 

How they walked and talked! Even Rosamund, left behind washing thetea-things while Lucy dried them, felt her ill-humor vanish. 

"Isn't she charming?" she said. 

"Yes, " said Lucy; but then she added, "I don't want you to like her. That would be the last straw. "

"And why shouldn't I like her?" asked Rosamund. 

"Because she belongs to me. "

Rosamund was quite silent for a minute. "While Mrs. Brett was here, "she said slowly, "I was quite happy. Now I do not feel happy, and it isowing to you, Lucy. Can we not meet and talk this over, and come to asort of compact, a sort of armistice? Do you mind if we do?"

Just then Mrs. Brett was seen returning. Lucy stood up hastily. "I willtalk to you. It would be best, " she said then. 

"To-night, " said Rosamund--"to-night, after prayers, let us meet outsideunder the elm-trees. We can talk there and put things a bit straight. Idon't think we can go on as we have begun. It would make us bothunhappy. "

"My dear girls, " called out Mrs. Brett--"ah! I see the tea-things areall washed up and put away in the basket. Well, they will be quite safe;there are no gipsies in these parts. Now, who will come with me as faras the station? Don't all speak at once. I shall be very glad of thecompany of those who like to come; but those who don't may stay behind, and they won't offend me in the very least. "

But all the girls wanted to accompany Mrs. Brett; and, surrounded by acrowd of eager young people, the good lady walked to the railwaystation. 

CHAPTER IV. 

CASTING OF THE DIE. 

Rosamund and Jane Denton shared the same bedroom. They had been friendsfrom childhood, for they had lived in the same street and gone to thesame kindergarten together, and their mothers had been oldschool-fellows before marriage, so their friendship had grown up, as itwere, with their very lives. 

But Jane was a girl of no very special characteristics; she leant onRosamund, admiring her far more vivacious ways and appearance, glad tobe in her society, and somewhat indifferent to every one else in thewide world. 

She sat now on a low and comfortable seat near the open window. Prayerswere over, but the time that Rosamund had fixed for meeting LucyMerriman had not quite arrived. She yawned and stretched herselfluxuriously. 

"I shall go to bed. Our work begins to-morrow. What are you sitting upfor, Rosamund?"

"I am going out again in a few minutes, " said Rosamund. 

"Are you indeed?" cried Jane. "Then may I come with you? I shan'tbe a bit sleepy if I am walking out in the moonlight. But Ithought----However, I suppose rules don't begin to-day. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"I heard Miss Archer say that we were not to go out after half-past nineunless by special permission. "

"Oh, well, as you remarked, rules don't begin until to-morrow, so I cango out at any hour I like to-night. "

"I wonder why?" said Jane, and she looked up with a languid curiosity, which was all she could ever rise to, in her light-blue eyes. 

Rosamund knelt by the window-sill; she put her arms on it and gazed outinto the summer night. She heard people talking below her in theshrubbery. A few words fell distinctly on her ears, "I hate her, and Ishall never be her friend!" and then the voices died away in thedistance. 

Jane had risen at that moment to fetch a novel which she was reading, soshe did not hear what Rosamund had heard. 

Rosamund's young face was now very white. There was a steady, pursed-upexpression about her mouth. She suddenly slammed down the window withsome force. 

"What is it, Rose? What is the matter? Why shouldn't we have the windowopen on a hot night like, this?"

"Because I like it to be shut. You must put up with me as I am, " saidRosamund. "I will open it if you wish in a few minutes. I have changedmy mind, I am not going out. I shall go to bed. I have a severeheadache. "

"But wouldn't a walk in the moonlight with me, on our very last eveningof freedom, take your headache away?" said Jane in a coaxing voice. 

"No; I would rather not go out. You can do as you please. Only, creep inquietly when I am asleep. Don't wake me; that's all I ask. "

"Oh, I'll just get into bed, dear, if you have a headache. But howsuddenly it has come on!"

"This room is so stifling, " she said. "After all, this is a small sortof school, and the rooms are low and by no means airy. "

Jane could not help laughing. 

"I never heard you talk in such a silly way before. Why, it was you whoshut the window just now. How can you expect, on a hot summer's evening, the room to be cool with the window shut?"

"Well, fling it open--fling it open!" said Rosamund. "I don't mind. "

Jane quickly did so. There was a crunching noise of steps--solitarysteps--on the gravel below. Jane put out her head. 

"Why, there is Lucy Merriman!" she said. 

Lucy heard the voice, and looked up. 

"Is Rosamund coming down? I am waiting for her, " she said. 

Jane turned at once to Rosamund. 

"Lucy is waiting for you. Was it with Lucy you meant to walk? She wantsto know if you are going down. "

"Tell her I am not going down, " replied Rosamund. 

"She can't go down to-night, " said Jane. "She has a headache. "

"I wish you wouldn't give excuses of that sort, " said Rosamund in anangry voice when her friend put in her head once more. "What does itmatter to Lucy Merriman whether I have a headache or not?"

Jane stared at her friend in some astonishment. 

"I do not understand you, nor why you wanted to walk with her. I thoughtyou did not like her. "

"I tell you what, " said Rosamund fiercely, "I don't like her, and I'mnot going to talk about her. I am going to ignore her. I am going tomake this house too hot for her. She shall go and live with her auntSusan, or she shall know her place. I, Rosamund Cunliffe, know my ownpower, and I mean to exercise it. It is the casting of the die, Jane; itis the flinging down of the gauntlet. And now, for goodness' sake, letus get into bed. "

Both retired to rest, and in a few minutes Jane was fast asleep; butRosamund lay awake for a long time, with angry feelings animating herbreast. 

In the morning the full routine of school-life began, and even Lucy wasdrawn into a semblance of interest, so full were the hours, so animatedthe way of the teachers, so eager and pleasant and stimulating thedifferent professors. Then the English mistress, Miss Archer, knew somuch, and was so tactful and charming; and Mademoiselle Omont knew herown tongue so beautifully, and was also such a perfect German scholar!In short, the seven girls had their work cut out for them, and there wasnot a minute's pause to allow ambition and envy and jealousy to creepin. 

Lucy had one opportunity of asking Rosamund why she did not keep herappointment of the night before. 

"You surprised me, " she said. "I thought you were honorable and wouldkeep your word. I had some difficulty in getting Miss Archer out of theway, for she was talking to me so nicely and so wisely, I can tell you, I was quite enjoying it. But I managed to get right away from her, andto walk under your window, and you never came. "

"I suppose I was at liberty to change my mind, " said Rosamund, her darkeyes flashing with anger. 

"Oh! of course you were. But it would have been more polite to let meknow. Not that it matters. I was not particularly keen to talk to you. Iam so glad that Miss Archer is my friend. She gave me to understand lastnight how much she liked me, and how much she meant to help me with mystudies. I believe from what she says that she considers I shall bequite the cleverest girl in the school. She believes in hereditarytalent, and my dear father is a sort of genius, so, of course, as hisonly child, I ought to follow in his footsteps. "

"Of course you ought, " said Rosamund in a calm voice. "Then be thecleverest girl in the school. "

"I mean to have a great try, " said Lucy, with a laugh; and Rosamund gaveher an unpleasant glance. 

CHAPTER V. 

AN INVITATION. 

If any girl failed to enjoy herself on the following Saturday atDartford, she had certainly only herself to blame. As a matter of fact, the whole seven, without exception, had a right good time. Even Lucyforgot her jealousies, and even Rosamund forgot her anger. They were somuch interested in Mrs. Brett and her husband, in the things they did, and the things they could tell, and the things they could show, and thewhole manner of their lives, that they forgot themselves. 

Now, to forget yourself is the very road to bliss. Many people take along time finding out that most simple secret. When they do find it outand act on it they invariably live a life of great happiness andequanimity, and are a great blessing to other people. Lucy and Rosamundwere far--very far--from such a desirable goal, but for a few hours theydid act upon this simple and noble idea of life, and in consequence werehappy. 

But Saturday at the Bretts', with all its bliss, came to an end, and thegirls returned to beautiful Sunnyside and to the life of the new andrather strangely managed school. 

Sunday was a long and dreary day, at least in Rosamund's eyes, and butfor an incident which occurred immediately after morning service, shescarcely knew how she could have got through it. 

Mr. Merriman had a pew at one end of the church, which had belonged tohis people for generations, and which was not altered when the rest ofthe church was restored. It was large enough now to hold his wife andhimself and the seven girls; but the two teachers were accommodated inanother part of the church. Rosamund found herself during the serviceseated next to Mr. Merriman. It was the first time she had reallyclosely observed him, and she now noticed several peculiarities whichinterested her a good deal. He had a dignified and very noble presence. He was tall, with broad shoulders, had an aquiline nose, very piercingdark eyes, black hair, which he wore somewhat long, and an olive-tintedface. 

Lucy did not in the least resemble her father, but took more after hermother, who was round and fat, and proportionately commonplace. Rosamundat first felt no degree of elation when her place was pointed out to hernext to the Professor. But suddenly encountering Lucy's angry eyes, shebegan to take a naughty comfort to herself in her unexpected proximity. She drew a little closer to him on purpose to annoy Lucy; and then, whenshe found that he was short-sighted and could not find his places, shefound them for him, thus adding to poor Lucy's torment; for this hadonce been Lucy's own seat, and she herself had seen to her father'scomforts. From attending on him, Rosamund began to watch him, and thenshe found a good deal of food for meditation. In short, it is to befeared that she did not follow the service as she ought to have done. For the matter of that, neither did Lucy. 

The Rectory near Sunnyside was occupied by a clergyman who had severalyoung daughters. These girls were very prepossessing in appearance. Their father was a widower, their mother having died some years ago. There were six girls, and as they trooped up the aisle, two by two, theyattracted Rosamund's attention. They were dressed very simply indifferent shades of green. The two eldest had the darkest tone of color, both in their hats and their quiet little costumes. The two next hadone shade lighter and the two youngest one shade lighter again. Theylooked something like leaves as they went up the church, and they allhad one special characteristic--a great wealth of golden-brown hair, which hung far down their backs. The two eldest girls must have variedin age between fourteen and twelve, the two next between ten and eight, and the little ones between seven and five. They had quiet, neatly cutfeatures, and serene eyes. They walked up the church very sedately, andtook their places in the Rectory pew. Rosamund longed to ask a thousandquestions about them. They were so much more interesting than the girlswho were staying at Sunnyside; they were so fresh, and their dress soout of the common. 

A somewhat prim and very neatly dressed governess followed the six girlsup the aisle and took her place at the end of the pew. But Rosamundcould still see from where she sat the heads with the six green hats andthe wealth of fair hair hanging below. She was full of interest, andaltogether her thoughts were occupied first by the Professor and thenwith her neighbors. 

By-and-by the rustle of a very rich silk caused her to turn herattention again to the outside world, and she observed a lady of aboutforty-five years of age, richly dressed in deep mourning, with a gooddeal of crape and a widow's bonnet, walking up the church. This ladyentered a pew which she occupied all alone. 

Then the choir, the rector, and the curate appeared, and the servicebegan. It began, went on, and finished. Just as it came to a conclusion, Mrs. Merriman, bending towards Rosamund, said, "We will wait, if youplease, until the rest of the congregation have dispersed. I am anxiousto see Mr. Singleton, to ask him a question. "

Rosamund wondered who Mr. Singleton was. But she was only too anxiousto see her neighbors leaving the church, and was pleased at the idea ofwaiting. 

The congregation filed down the centre aisle one by one, in orderlyfashion, and the six little girls in their green costumes and their fairhair disappeared from view. The elderly governess primly followed, andthen the lady in black silk also left her pew. But as she did so shepaused and said something to the verger, who was in the aisle. Rosamund, whose eyes were fixed on her, noticed that the verger pointed to the pewin which she herself was sitting, and a minute later the lady came tothe door of the pew and said something in a very low voice to Mrs. Merriman. 

To Rosamund's amazement, Mrs. Merriman stretched out her hand across thepew and took one of hers. 

"My dear, Lady Jane Ashleigh, an old friend of your mother's, wishes tosee you. Will you go very quietly out, talk to her for a minute or twooutside the church, and then wait for us in the porch?"

Rosamund obeyed, filled with the keenest interest. Lady Jane walked onin front, and Rosamund followed. They both entered the porch, whereuponthe widow turned, grasped one of Rosamund's hands, and said, "If it werenot church-time I should long to kiss you. I was a very, very greatfriend of your mother's. She wrote to me two days ago to say that youwere coming to live here. I intended to call yesterday, but wasprevented. I came to church to-day hoping to make your acquaintance. When will you come and see me? Can you come this afternoon?"

"Oh, indeed I can!" said Rosamund. "I remember mother quite well tellingme about you. Your name used to be Lady Jane Stanisford, was it not?"

"Quite right, my dear. Oh, what a look you have of your mother! You mustcome and spend the rest of the day with me. You can come now; you cancome in my carriage. "

"Oh! I ought not to, for the others will be waiting for me. "

"I will wait with you here. But no; I must hurry home at once. Then comethis afternoon, and bring any one of your school friends that you like. I shall be glad to see you and to talk over old times. Dear Mrs. Merriman, she is a great friend of mine. Give her my love, and a messagethat you are to come and have tea with me, and supper, too. I will sendyou back to Sunnyside in my carriage late this evening. Good-bye for thepresent, dear. "

It was a very beaming face that greeted Lucy and the rest of the partywhen, accompanied by Mr. Singleton (the father of the fair-haired girls, and the rector of the parish), they all appeared in the church porch. Lucy went straight up to Rosamund. 

"What in the world are you smiling at?" she said. "You look as thoughyou were thinking of something extremely funny; and it makes your facelook so strange, not at all like the face of a person who has just beenin church. "

"Will you introduce me, Miss Lucy, to this young lady?" said Mr. Singleton's pleasant voice. 

Lucy was obliged to comply. She muttered the introduction in a somewhatsurly tone; but Mr. Singleton was by no means proof against Rosamund'sbright and clever face, her smile, which was now quite charming, and heranimated manner. 

"You must come and spend a day with my little girls--that is, when youcan obtain leave, " he said. --"Ah, Mrs. Merriman! it will be very unlikeyou to be over strict with your young people. They must all come to theRectory. When is your next half-holiday?"

"You must ask Miss Archer, " said Mrs. Merriman. 

Miss Archer replied that Wednesdays and Saturdays would behalf-holidays, and Mr. Singleton clinched the invitation by asking theparty to the Rectory for the following Wednesday. 

On their way home Rosamund left Lucy's side, with whom she had beenwalking, and ran up to Mrs. Merriman. 

"Lady Jane Ashleigh is a friend of mother's, and she has asked me to goto her after lunch to spend the rest of the day with her. May I go?"

"Not on Sundays, dear. We never allow our young people to pay visits onSundays, " said the professor, just turning his head and glancing kindlyat Rosamund. 

The smile vanished from her countenance. She colored high withannoyance. 

"But I promised her I would go, and she is an old friend of mother's, and please may I go on this occasion?"

"I make a rule which cannot be broken, that no girls accept invitationsfor Sunday. That is the end of the matter. "

He turned to speak to his wife, without giving Rosamund any furtherthought. He was feeling ill that day--worse than usual--and he did notnotice the consternation, rage, and also determination which filledRosamund's face. Lucy had not heard her words, but she exclaimed eagerlywhen the girl returned to her place among her school-fellows, "Well, what is it? What did Lady Jane say to you?"

"Oh, nothing--nothing particular. "

"But you did seem so eager and pleased. You don't look at all pleasednow. "

"She said nothing in particular, really. How nice that field looks, withall that grass growing up so green after the haymaking. "

"Oh, don't talk platitudes, " said Lucy. She watched Rosamund narrowly. 

By-and-by they reached the house. Rosamund went straight up to her ownroom. There such a wave of passion, anger, and revolt swept over herthat she scarcely knew herself. 

"I will go. I won't obey. Mother wrote to her about me. She is mother'sfriend. I will slip off and spend the day with her, and take theconsequences, whatever they may be. I cannot stand those girls, and sheis delightful! I win go to her, come what may. "

Jane Denton did not understand Rosamund as she brushed her long hair andtidied herself for the early dinner. 

CHAPTER VI. 

VISIT TO LADY JANE. 

Rosamund made herself altogether charming during the ensuing meal. Shewas so clever that even Lucy's watchful eyes could detect nothingunusual about her. The professor was charmed with her intelligentremarks, her interest in the architecture of the very old church wherethey had just enjoyed the service, and her eagerness to acquire a moreprofound knowledge of church architecture in general. This was one ofhis own special hobbies, and he promised to lend Rosamund books on thesubject, and even invited her to go into his library in the course ofthe afternoon to look at some illustrations which he thought wouldinterest her. 

"But I like to spend Sunday quietly and alone, " said Rosamund, raisinginnocent eyes to the professor's face. "Will it matter if I come to seeyour illustrations and your books to-morrow?"

He gave her a paternal glance of almost affection. 

"You shall certainly spend your Sunday as you like best, my dear, " hesaid. "For my part, I love to see spirited and happy girls like yourselfdevoting themselves to periods of thought and meditation. In no otherpossible way can they attain to true knowledge of what Sunday means. "

Jane Denton looked at her friend in some astonishment, but Rosamundcalmly returned her gaze. 

When the meal came to an end the girls scattered here and there, andJane ran up to Rosamund to know what she meant to do. 

"To stay quietly by myself, " was Rosamund's answer, "so for goodness'sake don't interfere with me, Janey. I am going to my room, to beginwith. I want to have a good long think, and----But don't question me, and keep the others away--won't you?--there's a dear. "

Jane promised readily enough, and Rosamund went to her room. There fromher window she watched the whole party disappearing in differentdirections: some to the neighboring woods, three girls together to thebank of the river, others with books into hammocks or cosy seats in thepretty garden. The two teachers had gone for a walk some miles into thecountry. The professor was in his study, where Mrs. Merriman kept himcompany. 

"Now is my time, " thought Rosamund. 

She changed her dress for one of the prettiest she possessed--apale-blue muslin, beautifully made. She put on a large, black, shadyhat, and catching up her gloves and parasol, started on foot to LadyJane's place. She had not an idea where to go, but trusted to find theway by making inquiries. Once she was safe out of the neighborhood ofthose odious girls, as she was pleased to call them, she thought allwould be easy enough. She soon reached the high-road, which was far moredusty than she had anticipated, and did not suit her prettypatent-leather shoes. 

Presently she met a girl on her way to Sunday-school in the village, andasked her the direct road to Lady Jane Ashleigh's. 

"Oh, my!" was the girl's response; "won't you find Miss Irene in atantrum this afternoon! Do you mean to say you are going there? And onSunday, too!"

"Yes, " said Rosamund, forgiving the girl's apparent impertinence onaccount of the interest which her remarks aroused. "But who is MissIrene?"

"Lady Jane's daughter, bless you! Why, I live there as kitchen-maid, and I tell you the tantrums of that young lady is enough to upset thenerves of the stoutest person. I have come out now, and glad I am to beaway. You are a strange young lady, I take it, from your appearance. Youhad best not go there if you want rest. "

"But I am going there, " was Rosamund's reply, "so please tell me how;and what is the name of Lady Jane's place, for she did not tell me?"

"Why, anybody here must know The Follies, and the place is true to itsname as place can be. Oh, Lady Jane is well enough, but it is MissIrene. Well, I wish you luck. You walk straight down this road for amile or so, and turn in at the first gates you come to, and there youwill be; and I 'opes you'll enjoy yourself. "

The girl dropped a somewhat impertinent curtsy and marched on her way. 

Rosamund also went on, feeling more interested and pleased than ever. 

"Irene--what a pretty name!" she said to herself. "And from all accountsshe seems to be what old people would call a difficult young person, andto young people she is doubtless delightful. Anyhow, I expect I shallhave some fun; and as my absence is certain to be found out, and I amcertain to get into a row when I go back to the horrid Merrimans', I mayas well enjoy myself while I can. "

So she hurried her footsteps, and presently found that the kitchen-maidat The Follies had given her correct instructions. There, directlybefore her, were massive gates leading into the winding avenue, sheltered by tall trees, beech and elm. The place looked cool andsoothing. Oh, what a contrast it made to the hot and dusty road overwhich Rosamund had traveled! When she found herself inside she steppedon the grass in order to get some of the dust off her pretty patentshoes. She shook out her pale-blue muslin dress, arranged her hatbecomingly, and went up the drive, looking as dainty and as unlikean-ordinary English school-girl as girl could look. She knew, the valueof appearances, and was determined to make the best of them. Of course, her mother had told her much of Lady Jane. Lady Jane was her mother'sgreatest friend when they were both girls together; and when she hadmarried a certain Mr. Ashleigh, a man of great wealth, although theiracquaintance had very much dropped into the background, yet still thestories about the beautiful and willful Lady Jane had delighted Rosamundwhen she was a little girl herself. Now, it seemed that Lady Jane wasblessed with a daughter, and as naughty as she must have been in her ownearly days. This made matters exceedingly interesting to Rosamund. 

She reached the front door and rang the ponderous iron bell which hungfrom a chain by the side of a Gothic column, and a man-servant inlivery, with powdered hair, appeared in reply to her summons. 

"Is Lady Jane Ashleigh within?"

"Yes, madam, " he replied respectfully, and he motioned Rosamund into alarge, cool hall, beautifully furnished with all sorts of antiquespecimens of oak and Sheraton furniture. From here he took her into alittle room rendered beautifully cool by green silk blinds, which werepartly let down at the windows, one of which was altogether open andlooked out on a flower-garden partly sheltered by trees. Here Rosamundsaw, just for a brief moment, a girl in red, swinging backward andforward idly in a swing suspended from two stalwart boughs. The girl hadsomewhat wild eyes, a very bright face, and a mischievous expressionround her lips. When she saw Rosamund she leaped from the swing, anddisappeared from view, and the next moment Lady Jane sailed into theroom. The contrast between the girl in red and the lady in deep mourningwho now appeared puzzled the girl a good deal; also the extreme calmand graciousness of Lady Jane's bearing, the absence of all thatwildness in the eyes which Rosamund's own mother had explained so fully. In short, the graciousness of a perfectly balanced nature seemed tosurround this charming woman. She thanked Rosamund for coming, andsitting down near her, proceeded to question her with regard to hermother. 

"It is years since we met, " she said, "but I have never forgotten her. She was my favorite school-fellow. Our paths in life led very much apartafterward, for I married my dearly beloved husband and lived in thecountry, whereas she traveled a good deal over the world. But still wedid contrive to correspond from time to time, although we have not met, I verily believe, since your birth, Rosamund. How old are you, my dear?"

"I was fifteen my last birthday, " replied Rosamund. 

"In some ways you look older than that. "

"I am glad, " said Rosamund, her eyes brightening. "I want to begrown-up, " she continued. "I want to have done with school. "

"Why did your mother think of sending you to Mrs. Merriman's?"

"Oh, there were a lot of reasons. Jane Denton, who is my greatestfriend--although I don't know why I am so fond of her--was coming here, and her mother knew Mrs. Merriman, and mother hates ordinary schools, and she thought this would just do. And then all of a sudden sheremembered that you lived near, although she did not say anything to meabout that, or you may be sure I should have been quite interested. I amso glad to see you, Lady Jane! And, please, when am I to be introducedto Irene?"

Rosamund was sorry the moment she had said these words, for over LadyJane's face there passed an expression of absolute pain. After amoment's pause, she said, "Who has told you about my little daughter?"

"Does it pain you for me to speak about her?"

"Answer my question, dear. Who has told you?"

"I think it might have been your kitchen-maid. I will explain to you thevery truth, Lady Jane. You know you asked me to come here to-day, andyou said you would send me back to-night, and I was so pleased; but whenI spoke about it to Mr. Merriman, he said at once that he did not allowgirls to visit friends on Sunday, and that that was one of his strictestrules. "

"And yet you came?" said Lady Jane, her eyes darkening. 

"Yes, I came, " replied Rosamund, "for I simply couldn't stand it. Whyshould I be coerced and told that things were wrong by a man like Mr. Merriman?"

"A great scholar and a noble gentleman, " said Lady Jane quietly. 

Rosamund felt herself coloring, and a sense of annoyance swept over her. 

"Well, anyhow, I came, " she said; "and I suppose you are not going tosend me back now that I have braved the displeasure of every one to cometo you?"

"I will drive you back myself after we have had tea together; and youmust come and spend a week day with me. It was wrong to come, dear, andit was a pity. When you get to know Mr. Merriman well you willunderstand that when he says a thing he means it. I will try andintercede for you on this occasion. I myself do not think it at allwrong that you should come and minister to the wants of a lonely womanon Sunday. I noticed your bright face in church; and although you arenot very like your mother, you have got something of her expression, andmany of the tones of her voice, and it gives me pleasure to conversewith you. "

"But why should you be lonely when you have got"----

Just at that moment there was a noise outside, followed by a fiercescuffle and the banging about of furniture, and the room door wasopened, and the girl whom Rosamund had seen swinging at the other end ofthe sunlit lawn appeared on the scene. She was one of the most beautifulgirls Rosamund, who thought herself very good-looking, had ever beheldin her life, but her eyes were wild and almost unsteady. Her laugh washarsh and her voice unpleasant. 

"Irene, " said Lady Jane, turning pale, "what is the matter with you?Won't you behave?"

The girl gave a laugh, flung herself into a chair, then drew herself alittle closer, and stared full at Rosamund. 

"Never mind mother, " she said. "Who are you?"

"My name is Rosamund Cunliffe, " was Rosamund's reply. 

She spoke steadily. There was a certain calm about her voice whichseemed to exercise a beneficent influence over the queer girl. 

"And my name is Irene Ashleigh. Won't you come out, and I'll swing you?You'd like to have a good swing this hot day, wouldn't you?"

"If you will promise, Irene, to be very careful, " began Lady Jane; butIrene's only reply to this was to jump up as suddenly as she had seatedherself, take Rosamund's hand, and pull her through the open Frenchwindow. 

"Never mind mother, " she said again. "She is nothing but an old croak. There's a bit of spirit about you. Oh! they all tell stories about me;but I'm not half bad, only I think I'm a changeling. Did you ever thinkyou were a changeling?"

"Of course not. I don't know what you mean. "

"I'll explain to you. I quite like your look. May I put my arm roundyour waist?"

"If it pleases you, " said Rosamund. 

"How stiffly you speak! But I like you all the same. You are what mightbe called a good old sort, and there's nothing prim about you. Do youknow why I came into the room just now?"

"I'm sure I cannot tell. "

"Well, I'll let you know. I was listening at one of the windows, and Iheard you tell mother--dear old puritanical mother--that you had creptaway without leave from the learned professor, and had got intodifficulties. Oh, didn't I just love you for it! There's a Miss Frosthere who tries to teach me; but, bless you! she can't knock muchlearning into me. She is as terrified of me as she can be, is oldFrosty. She and I had a squabble in the passage; she said I was not tocome in because I had my red dress on. You know, it's only a year sincefather died, and mother is in deep mourning still; but I will wearred--it is my sort of mourning. I suppose we can all do as we please. Well, when I discovered that you were one of the naughty sort, I thoughtI'd have a nearer view of you, and I like you very much. You are pretty, you know, quite pretty. Not so pretty as I am! Now, look me full in theface. Did you ever see any one prettier?"

"Irene, you do talk in a wild way!"

"It is rather cheeky of you to call me Irene; but I don't much mind. Ilike you to be cheeky. Well, here's the swing. How high up do you wantme to push you?"

"Not any way at all just at present. Let us walk about and talk beforeyou swing me. I must know something about you. How old are you?"

"I'm sure I don't know--I've forgotten. Oh, by the way, you didn'tunderstand me when I said I was a changeling. "

"I didn't, and I don't. But why do you talk in that silly way?"

"Well, I seriously think I am, for if you had seen father when he wasalive you'd have said if there was a dear--I was very fond of dad--ifthere was a dear, sober, conscientious old man--he was a good bit olderthan mother--you'd have pronounced that he was he. "

"That is very funny English, Irene. "

"Oh, never mind! I like to talk in a funny way. Anyhow, you'd have saidthat he was he. And then there is mother. You see how good she looks. She is very handsome, I know, and every one adores her, and so does herloving daughter Irene; but, all the same, I was made in a sort offashion that I really cannot keep indoors. No rain that ever was heardof could keep me in, and no frost, either. And I have lain sometimes onthe snow for an hour at a time and enjoyed it. And there's scarcely anight that I spend in bed. I get out, whatever poor old Frosty may do tokeep me within bounds. I can climb up anything, and I can climb downanything, and I like to have a boat on the lake; and when they are verybad to me I spend the night there in the very centre of the lake, andthey can't get at me, shout as they may. No, I never take cold. "

"The only thing I am keen about is to be allowed to wear colors that Ilike. I love gay colors--red one day, yellow the next, the brightestblue the next I hate art shades. I am not a bit æsthetic. Once they tookme to London, but I ran away home. Oh, what a time I had! I am a wildsort of thing. Now, do you suppose that any mother, of her ownfree-will, would have a daughter like me? Of course I am a changeling. Isuppose I belong to the fairies, and my greatest wish on earth is to seethem some day. Sometimes I think they will meet me in the meadows or inthe forest, which is two miles away, or even in the lake, for I supposefairies can swim. But they have never come yet. If they came I'd askthem to let me go back to them, for I do so hate indoor life andcivilization and refinement. And now you see the sort I am, and if youare the sort I somehow think you are, why shouldn't we be friends?Perhaps you are a changeling, too. You know that dress doesn't suit youone bit; it is too grand and fine-ladyish; and you ought to let yourhair stream down your back instead of having it tied behind with thatribbon. And you ought to have a hole in your hat instead of that grandblack feather. And--oh, good gracious!--what funny boots! I never sawanything like them--all shiny, and with such pointed toes. How can youwalk in them? I as often as not go barefoot all day long; but then I ama wild thing, a changeling, and I suppose, after all, you are not. "

Rosamund felt herself quite interested while Irene was deliveringherself of this wild harangue. She looked back at this moment, and sawLady Jane standing in the French window. Irene's arm was still firmlyclasped round Rosamund's waist. Rosamund could just catch a glimpse ofthe expression of Lady Jane's face, and it seemed to signify relief andapproval. Rosamund said to herself, "We all have our missions in life;perhaps mine is to reclaim this wild, extraordinary creature. Ishouldn't a bit mind trying. Of course, I don't approve of her; but sheis lovely. She has a perfect little face, and she is just like anysavage, quite untrained--a sort of free lance, in fact. Irene, " she saidaloud, "I am not going to let you swing me just now; but you may sitnear me, and I will tell you something which may alter your views aboutyour being a changeling. "

"What do you mean by that?" said Irene, and she looked doubtful. "Icannot sit long, " she continued. "Be as quick as ever you can. "

"Yes, I will, and afterward"----

"Afterward I will go into the house and get Frosty to give us tea, andwe will take it in the boat together. We will get into the very middleof the stream, where no human being can call us back, and we will have aright good time. "

"Will you ask your mother's leave first?"

"Indeed I won't. I never ask her leave. I never ask any one's leave. Inever trouble mother much, because she cries so badly when I vex her;but I don't mind how hard Frosty cries. Frosty is terribly afraid of me, but she has stayed with me longer than any other governess. They mostlygo at the end of a week or a fortnight; but Frosty has been with me forclose on four months. She is very worried. She was quite fat when shecame, and now she is a sort of walking skeleton, and it is all owing tome, because I do work her so hard and terrify her so; and she can'tteach me anything, however hard she tries. I tell you I'm a changeling, and changelings can't be taught. She told me the other night that shebelieved me. She looked as white as a sheet when she said the words, andI did laugh so, and clapped my hands. I woke mother, and mother cameinto the room; and Frosty told mother what I had said, and poor mothercried. I said, 'Never mind, mother. I am fond of you, but I likefrightening Frosty. '

"Then Frosty went away to her own room, and I thought, of course, shewould give notice the next day, but she didn't. She is very poor, andhas to earn her own bread somehow. I expect that is why she stays. "

"Well, " said Rosamund stoutly, "I will say this, Irene, that youare--whether changeling or not--an exceedingly naughty girl. There, now!"

Irene opened those deep sapphire-blue eyes, which were one of hergreatest charms, to their fullest extent; her little mouth pouted, andsome pearly teeth showed beneath. She clinched her small hands, and thensaid stoutly, "Hurrah! I admire your courage. They never dare tell me Iam naughty. I rule the house; they are all quite terrified of me. "

"Well, I am not a scrap afraid of you, " said Rosamund. 

"Aren't you? What a relief! Well, come on; I can't sit still any longer. I have got to order our tea to be sent to the boat, and we will get intomid-stream and keep all the world at bay. Can't you tell me there whatyou wanted to say?"

"No; I will tell you now, and I am not at all sure that I am going inthe boat with you, for Lady Jane said I had done wrong to come here; andif I did wrong to come, I suppose I must try and do right, for I can'ttalk of your faults while I have such a lot of my own. "

"Oh, hurrah! You are nicer than ever. I am glad you are full of faultstoo. Do say why you think I am not a changeling. "

"Because my mother told me that long ago your mother was rather naughty, although she is so good now. So I think, perhaps, when you are her ageyou will be good too. "

"Oh, horror! Heaven preserve us!" cried Irene. "That is the final straw. Ever to sink into the apathy of my beloved mother would be beyondendurance. But there, I am off to Frosty, and you will have to come intothe boat with me. "

Irene flew fleet as the wind from Rosamund's side. Notwithstanding herexceedingly ugly red dress, its shortness, its uncouth make, she ran asgracefully as a young fawn. Soon she had disappeared round the corner, and as soon as she had done so Lady Jane was seen tripping across thegrass. She motioned Rosamund to her side. 

"She took to you, " she said. "She seems to like you. Are you going tobe good to her?" said the lady, her lips trembling as she spoke. 

"If I can. Oh, I know she is very naughty; but she is so beautiful!"said Rosamund, with sudden enthusiasm, her own pretty dark eyes fillingwith tears. 

"You are a sweet girl!" said Lady Jane. "Perhaps God has sent you hereto effect the means of reform. Only sometimes I fear----But here shecomes. She must not see me talking to you. If she thought that we werein league all would be lost. "

Before Rosamund could reply, or even ask Lady Jane if she might go intothe boat with Irene, that young lady had darted to her side. 

"Now, what were you saying to the Mumsy-pums? I don't allow any one totalk in a confidential way to my Mumsy-pums except myself. Now, I wasjust watching you, and you kept nodding your head all the time. Whatwere you saying? I know you were talking about me. What was the dearPums saying with regard to her changeling? Was she running me down--eh?"

"No, nothing of the sort, " said Rosamund stoutly. 

"Then I know, " said Irene, knitting her black eyebrows till they almostmet in her anxiety to express herself clearly; "she was telling you tohave a good influence over me. She always begins like that with the newgovernesses. She has an interview with them the morning after theyarrive. They are generally by that time reduced to a state of pulp, andshe has them, as she thinks, alone. But I generally contrive to listen. I am a great eavesdropper. Oh, I am not a bit ashamed of it--not abit--so you needn't begin to preach. She tells them to try and reformme. She says money is no object if only I can be reformed. As though achangeling could be reformed! She has been asking you to reform me, hasn't she? I know her little ways, dear, good old Mumsy-pums. But shecan't reform a changeling. Now the boat is ready, and Betty is toilingfor dear life with our tea-tray. I darted into the kitchen, where shewas having a Sunday doze. I sprang upon her back, and she gave such ashriek as though something awful had happened; and I said, 'Tea in atwinkling, or I'll dress up and frighten you when you are in bedto-night. ' Oh, didn't she hop round as though she were walking onred-hot irons! And there she is now, panting down the path with our tea. Come along, Rosamund. "

"But I don't think I must. I ought not to come, " said Rosamund. 

She was tempted, fascinated. To feel conscious that she was not onescrap afraid of this queer girl, to feel conscious also that the girlherself, notwithstanding her extreme naughtiness, could in the end bemanaged by her, brought such a rush of interest into her life that sheforgot everything else for the moment; and, besides, Irene wasexceedingly strong, and although she was much slimmer and not so tall asRosamund, she dragged her down the path with a power that it was almostimpossible to resist. 

"That will do, Betty. I won't frighten you to-night by dressing up andmaking my eyes fiery, " said Irene as the cook appeared with the tea. 

"Oh, bless me, miss!" replied the cook, "for heaven's sake keep out ofmy bedroom. If you will only give me back my key and let me lock my doorI wouldn't have such dreadful nightmares. I wish you would, Miss Irene. "

"I give you back your key?" said Irene. "I'd have no fun if I hadn'tpower over you. There, that will do. You may sleep sound to-night. Ialways keep my word. "

The cook departed, red and panting. She was as much afraid of Irene asany of the other servants. But the place was a good one, the wagesexceedingly liberal, and Lady Jane the kindest and most patient ofmistresses. In short, many of the servants stayed for her sake, notwithstanding the life of terror which naughty Irene gave them. 

The little boat, painted sky-blue and tipped with white, was now pulledout of the boat-house. Irene put in the basket of provisions, and amoment later she and Rosamund were skimming across the smooth bosom ofthe lake. It was quite a big lake, being a quarter of a mile across andhalf a mile long, and in the centre was a rapid current which wasconsidered, and really was in times of storm, somewhat dangerous. Forthis current Irene made, and when they got there she suddenly rested onher oars, and looking at Rosamund, said, "Are you afraid, or are younot? If the current gets a little stronger we will be drifted to theedge of the lake, and at the edge of the lake there is a waterfall, andover it we will go, and, splash! splash! splash! I took a girl thereonce; she was my governess, but I was quite tired of her, and knew thefright she would get in when I took her out in the boat. I never takethose who are dead sick with fright; but I took her, and she was nearlydrowned--not quite, for I can swim in almost any water, and I held herup and brought her safe to land. But she left that evening. She was apoor thing, absolutely determined to stop. I hated her the moment I sawher face, it was so white and pasty; and she wasn't at all interesting. She couldn't tell stories; she didn't believe in changelings. She hadnever read the _Arabian Nights_. She knew hardly any history; but shewas great at dates. Oh, she was a horror! She was rather fond ofgrammar, too, and odds and ends of things that aren't a bit interesting. And needlework! Oh, the way she worried me to death with her needlework!She did criss-cross and cross-criss, and every other stitch that wasever invented. So I said to myself, 'Miss Carter must go, ' and I tookher out on a rather stormy day, and we got into mid-current. Mother andthe servants came shouting to us to get out of it; but of course wecouldn't, and poor Miss Carter, how she did shriek! And I said, 'We arecertain to go over the fall; but we won't get drowned, for I won't letyou, if you will promise faithfully to give notice the very instant youget back to the house. ' Oh, poor thing, didn't she promise! Her veryteeth were chattering. She was in a most awful state. Now, we can goover the waterfall to-day if you don't mind. You wouldn't be frightened, would you?"

"Frightened? Not I! But I don't intend to go over the waterfall, all thesame. "

"Now, what on earth do you mean by that remark?" asked Irene. 

"I am quite as strong as you, and if it comes to a fight I can take theoars. The current is not yet very strong; but I wish to get out of it, for the see-sawing up and down makes me a little bit sea-sick. I am notyour governess. I am just a girl who has come to live at the Merrimans', and I can make myself very pleasant to you if you make yourself pleasantto me, or I can take not the slightest notice of you. There are heapsand heaps of other girls about. There are all the Singletons. "

"Oh, for primness!" began Irene. "Oh, those Green Leaves! they arepositively detestable. But you shall have your way, Rosamund. You reallyare not afraid, so just you take one oar and I will take the other, andwe will get into smooth water and enjoy ourselves for once. It is acomfort to talk to some one who hasn't a scrap of fear in her. "

"Nobody ought to be afraid of you, " said Rosamund, taking up an oar asshe spoke; and with a few vigorous strokes the girls got out of thecurrent into the still, blue waters of the lake. 

Poor Lady Jane, who was watching them from her boudoir window, breatheda sigh of relief. 

"I knew that girl was sent to be a blessing to me, " she said to herself;"and my dear old friend's child, too. Oh, why was I given such acreature as Irene to bring up and look after? I can no more manage herthan an old hen could manage a fierce young ostrich. "

Meanwhile Rosamund and Irene began to enjoy themselves. The tea, as itwas called, consisted of a bottle of cold tea; but the rest of theprovisions were first-rate, the most delicious cakes of all sorts anddescriptions, with a few other dainties in the shape of sandwiches. Thegirls ate and talked, and Irene, perhaps for the first time in her life, became almost rational in her behavior. 

"And now, " said Irene, "I want you to tell me again what you said aboutmother being naughty, because it will give me a most tremendous holdover her. I wish you would tell me some of the sort of things she usedto do; because if I can say, 'I got it from you, mother, and you are theone to blame, ' it would be an immense pull. I wish you would tell me. Do, won't you?"

"She never did the sort of things you have done, " said Rosamund. 

"How in the world do you know that?"

"Well, for instance, she was never cruel. "

"I cruel? Well, I like that! I often and often put slugs and snails andworms, and that sort of thing, out of the path for fear any one shouldtread on them. I cruel?"

"You are in one way, " said Rosamund. "I am not a scrap afraid of you, and I say you are cruel when you terrify the servants and your poormother, who has no one but you, and"----

"We will get back into the current if you say another word, " said Irene. 

"No, we won't, " replied Rosamund, "for I will keep this oar, and youcannot wrench it from me. "

She grasped it more firmly as she spoke. Irene looked at her for amoment, and her small, wild, charming face seemed to lighten as thoughwith sudden passion. Then she broke into a merry laugh. 

"I declare it is refreshing to hear you, " she said. "Only don't scold metoo much at first. Let us be jolly for a little bit. When will you cometo see me again?"

"That depends on your mother and, I suppose, on the people I am livingwith--the Merrimans. "

"I don't know them. "

"Don't know them? Why, they live quite close. "

"I don't know any of the girls round here. There is a Merriman calledLucy, a horrid prig, isn't there?"

"I must confess that I don't care for her, " said Rosamund. 

"Ah! then we have something in common. I shall cultivate her just forthe express purpose of finding out her faults, and then we will havemore in common. Only, promise me one thing, Rose. "

"What is that?" said Rosamond, suddenly struck by the gentle tone whichthe queer child's voice could assume. 

"You won't take up with the Leaves. Do let the Leaves alone. Mother isalways harping on them, and bringing them up to me. But the fact is, they are afraid to come here. They have been invited scores of times;but they always make excuses at the last moment. I know the reason, forthat terrible Miss Carter, who was nearly drowned, went straight from usto them, and has remained with them ever since. Of course, she toldthem about the boat, and the current in the middle of the lake, and thewaterfall. I have been rather curious to see them, and to give them agood round fright, every one of them, till they blanch to the color ofghosts, and then their green dresses wouldn't suit them any longer. Butthey wouldn't come. I have got no friends. That is why I am so anxiousto have you as a friend. You don't think me so dreadful, do you?"

"I think you could be splendid; but at the present moment I considerthat you are exceedingly naughty, " said Rosamund. "But then, I am not abit too good myself, so I suppose that is why I tolerate you. Now, willyou please row back to the shore, for I am afraid I must be returning tothe Merrimans'?"

CHAPTER VII. 

TEA ON THE LAKE. 

It was with some difficulty that Rosamund persuaded Irene to obey herorders; but firmness won the day. That young lady was accustomed toruling with a rod of iron, but she had at last found a girl who was notthe least afraid of her, who really did not mind what she did, and whoinsisted on taking one oar while she took the other. This was a newexperience, and she could do nothing, try as she would, to terrifyRosamund, who laughed when she assured her that she was a changeling, and might perhaps take any form at any time, and might return to herreal home with the fairies at any moment; who laughed still more merrilywhen she vowed she would upset the boat. 

"I can swim like a duck, " said Rosamund, "and I am a great deal biggerthan you are; and, clever as you think yourself, you would be no matchfor me in the water. "

In the end the merry laugh, the good nature, the charm and beauty of theface, touched something which had never yet been awakened in Irene'swild little heart. She turned to her oar, and they rowed quite silently, and soon both girls landed on the shore. There they found Lady Janeawaiting them. 

"As you did not get leave, dear, to come here to-day, I think I hadbetter take you back myself to the Merrimans', for I should like to seeMr. Merriman and have a chat with him; so will you come straight with meto the carriage?"

"May I come too?" asked Irene suddenly. 

"No, dear, I think not. I could not take you in that red frock. If youwere to put on a white dress, perhaps; but I think not to-day, Irene. "

Lady Jane looked anxiously at her little daughter. Irene gave a wildlaugh, which really sounded to poor Rosamund as scarcely human, and thenext moment, with a whoop, she disappeared into the thick shrubbery ofyoung trees near by. Her voice could then be heard calling, "Frosty!Frosty! come at once;" and then a thin and very emaciated woman was seencoming out of a summer-house just beyond. 

Meanwhile Lady Jane put her hand on Rosamund's arm. 

"You have done wonders, " she said. "You amaze me. I scarcely know how tothank you. Come with me at once. I must see more of you; but you willhave to go home now. "

Rosamund took the lady's hand, and they walked up to the house, where anopen landau was waiting for them. They drove quickly through the summerair. Rosamund remained silent, afraid to speak, and yet longing to saysomething. It was not until they had gone nearly a mile that Lady Janebroke the silence. 

"I have always felt that if her heart could be touched she would be allright, " was her first remark. "I think, somehow, you have touched it. She has been a great and dreadful trial to me--her extraordinaryspirits, the way she fears nothing, the impossibility of giving her theslightest discipline, the--the"----

Here the poor lady burst into tears. 

"Oh, don't, Lady Jane!" said Rosamund. "I am not a very good girlmyself, and perhaps that is why I partly understand her. At the presentmoment I hate my position. I like Mr. And Mrs. Merriman very well, andsome of the girls; but I can't stand that priggish Lucy. Perhaps thatis why I comprehend Irene--anyhow, if I may sometimes come to see her. "

"Sometimes, dear! Sometimes! But I am going to see Mr. Merriman on thatvery point this evening. I want you to be constantly with her. "

"How can I be if I have to do all my lessons?"

"I will write to your mother. Something will have to be done. I can'tlose this one chance. It was Heaven directed me; and, oh, your face inchurch--so like your mother's, and withal so spirited and so sweet! Andthen I felt that if only my little darling were in any way like you! Ihave had sorrow in my life; but no sorrow has been so great and terribleas that which I have endured with regard to that poor child. "

"She has a lovely face, " said Rosamund; "but the fact is, she isuntamed. She wants some one to tame her; and no one can break her in. She must be led, not driven. "

"I know it; but then I cannot lead her, and she has got the whole houseso thoroughly in her power that she gloats over the position. But I mustnot say any more. "

"I am afraid Mr. And Mrs. Merriman will be very angry with me, " saidRosamund; "but, to tell the truth, " she added, "I should not mind a bitif I had not met Irene. But somehow, now, I would rather be good thannaughty, because I want really to help her. "

They had now turned in at the avenue and were driving up to the house. They could see several girls coming to meet them. Jane Denton was thefirst to notice Rosamund. She went up to her at once. 

"Oh, Rose, " she said, "they are making such a fuss!" and then shecolored and glanced at Lady Jane. 

"Don't say a word against Rosamund. Whether she has been disobedient ornot, she has done a splendid afternoon's work, " said Lady Jane. Then sheadded, "Introduce me to your young friend, my dear. "

Rosamund did so. Jane was much pleased. She had heard a good deal aboutLady Jane in the course of the afternoon, and when Lucy and Mrs. Merriman and one or two other girls were inveighing against Rosamund'sextreme naughtiness in going to see the great lady without permission, Jane was envying her in her heart. 

Now Rosamund jumped lightly from the carriage, put her hand insideJane's arm, and conducted Lady Jane into the house. She walked straighttoward the study, that sacred room which was seldom invaded, and openingthe door, announced Lady Jane Ashleigh, then at once closed it behindthe good lady, and went with her friend Jane Denton into the grounds. 

"You have got into a scrape, " said Jane. "I never knew anything like it. What a pity you went!"

"Oh! don't bother me, Jane. I really don't care a bit if they do punishme. What punishment can they inflict?"

"Lucy said that you ought to be expelled, " said Jane. "You never knewanything like her rage. But I rather think she did harm than otherwise, for the Professor said to her, 'Oh, gently, Lucy--gently. It is herfirst offense. ' So I don't expect they will do that. "

"It would be rather delightful if they did, " said Rosamund, "for then Icould go to Lady Jane and have a right good time. There, come along. Ihave a lot to tell you, but nothing at all to tell the others. Here theyare coming to meet us, with that precious Lucy at their head. Wouldn't Ilike to take her out on the lake?" thought Rosamund, but she did notutter her thought aloud. 

The fact was, seeing these good, well-behaved girls brought back a greatdeal of her naughty spirit, whereas terribly naughty Irene made her feelmore or less good. 

"What a strange creature I am!" she thought, with a sigh. "And how can Ihope to influence any one?"

Meanwhile Lucy came straight up until she stood a few feet away fromRosamund. 

"I wonder, " she said, speaking in even a more formal way than usual, "how you can look me in the face, Rosamund. Have you ever been at schoolbefore?"

"I don't call this school, " said Rosamund; "it is a private house. It istrue we are subject to rules. " Then she added, making a great effort tocontrol herself and to speak quietly, "I will tell your father andmother what I feel with regard to this day's expedition; but I will nottell you, for you are only a school-girl like myself, and I expect, whenall is said and done, not a bit better. "

"Not a bit better?" repeated Lucy, her voice almost choking. "Why, Inever disobeyed my parents in the whole course of my life. "

"I am not aware that I have disobeyed mine, " said Rosamund. "But, " shecontinued, turning to the other girls, "I will talk of this to my masterand mistress, Professor and Mrs. Merriman, and not to you, Lucy. "

Then she linked her hand through Jane Denton's arm, called to LauraEverett to follow her, while Annie Millar, Laura's special friend, immediately turned to join the little group, and the four children soonfound themselves in the shade of one of the thickest plantations inSunnyside. 

"Oh dear! oh dear!" said Laura, speaking excitedly, "there has been afuss made. I always did admire you, Rosamund; but I must own I wasdisappointed at your creeping away in the manner you did, withouttelling anybody. And as to dear Professor Merriman, his face was quitefull of pain. I could scarcely bear to look at him. "

"I am sorry I went, " said Rosamund. "At least, in one sense I am sorry, but it was a mistake to prevent me. The fact is, " she continued, "I amnot made like ordinary girls; I know I am not, and I could not stand thenarrow point of view which it seemed to me the Professor had assumed. "

"But at school, remember, if there were no discipline there would be nochance of education, " was Laura's next remark. 

"I am sure Laura is right, " said Annie Millar. 

"Well, I hold with Rosamund to a certain extent, " exclaimed Jane Denton. 

Rosamund turned round to her own friend and smiled. 

"Now, I will tell you something, " she said. "I hold a distinct briefagainst myself. I did wrong, and yet in some ways I suppose I did rightto go. Girls, have you ever heard any particulars with regard to LadyJane Ashleigh?"

Laura's face turned very red. 

"Of course, every one in the place respects her, " she said. 

"Yes, I know, and I am not a bit surprised. I told her quite franklythat I had come without leave, and she said she was sorry for that; andalthough she did wish to see me so much, she would insist on notallowing me to stay to supper, and brought me home, as you see, comparatively early. So you will understand that she at least is not toblame. Nevertheless, have you heard anything more of that household?"

"Only that there is a girl--a very queer girl--there, " said Annie Millarin an almost spiteful voice. 

"Some people say she is mad, " said Laura Everett. 

"Well, now, I am going to tell you something, " said Rosamund. "I haveseen the girl. Her name is Irene. She has quite one of the mostbeautiful little faces I have ever looked at. And she is the wildest, queerest creature; but not a scrap mad in the ordinary sense of theword. She and I spent a good deal of the afternoon together, and I meanto see more of her, and to make her my friend. "

"But you will have so many friends!" interrupted Jane. 

"Yes, every one wants to be your friend, Rosamund, " said Laura in agentle tone. 

"And I am quite glad to be everybody's friend, if only Lucy Merriman maybe left out of the category, " was Rosamund's answer. "But, all the same, I mean to make Irene Ashleigh my special friend above all others, andyou must none of you be jealous, because--because--well, I can'texplain. "

"There are the Singletons, " said Laura quickly. "Mr. Singleton came overthis afternoon with two of the girls, the two eldest ones; their namesare Maud and Alice, and they told us a lot about Irene. They seem tohave a perfect horror of her. They are awfully nice girls, and we are togo there on Wednesday afternoon, and I for one am looking forward to it. But, Rosamond, it is extraordinary that you should take up with her. They told us an awful story about how Irene treated their deargoverness, Miss Carter. They wouldn't tell us quite all, but they saidthat, for their parts, nothing would induce them to go to The Follies, although they had been asked ever so often. And as to poor Miss Carter, her nerves have not yet got over the awful shocks that Irene subjectedher to. Once she was almost drowned. "

"Oh! I know all about that, " said Rosamund, with a laugh. "Well, don'tkeep me now. I see Lady Jane driving away, and I am going straight tohave an interview with the Professor. "

The girls watched her, in a little group, as she marched out of thewood, across the front lawn, and passed into the house by a side-doorwhich led straight to the Professor's study. 

He was alone, expecting no one. He was somewhat tired, and life seemedto him a little more bewildering than usual. He had never greatlyapproved of his wife's scheme of having girls to live with them, but hadyielded to it at last under the pressure of necessity. He had noobjection to the scheme on any score except that he was afraid it mightabsorb all his time and thoughts; for he was so constituted that hecould never see a human creature, particularly a human creature introuble, without taking that person's part and endeavoring if possibleto set wrong right. And now, just what he feared had happened. He wasweak and ill, and his nerves shaken, and Lady Jane had been to him, andRosamund Cunliffe, the girl whom he most admired of all those who hadcome to live at Sunnyside, had directly disobeyed him, and Lady Jane hadmade a somewhat painful appeal to his sympathy. What was to be done?

Mrs. Merriman had hurried into the room the moment Lady Jane had left. 

"Well, " she said--"well, and what did Lady Jane say? And what are wegoing to do with that naughty girl? We ought to be firm with her. Wereally ought, Ralph. "

The Professor looked gently at her, but did not speak. 

"For Lucy's sake we ought to be firm, " continued Mrs. Merriman. "Ofcourse, I don't want to be hard on any girl; but a direct act ofdisobedience----"

"It is her first offence; and, after all, the girl is impulsive and hasnever been subject to control, and there are extenuating circumstances, "said the Professor. "My dear, " he continued, laying his hand on hiswife's very plump shoulder, "you must speak to Lucy from yourself, notfrom me, dear; for I am too tired. But you must speak to her fromyourself, and tell her that she is not to dictate any terms to us withregard to the pupils who come to be educated at Sunnyside. She herselfis but one of the pupils. And now, dear, leave me, please. "

Mrs. Merriman did so, and a moment later Rosamund entered the room. Sheadvanced proudly, her head well thrown back, a spot of additional coloron each cheek, her brown eyes brighter than usual. 

"Professor, " she said before he could speak a word, for he was amazed ather entering into his presence, "I know I have been a very naughty girl. I did disobey you. I did go all by myself to The Follies. I was annoyedat your strict views, and I had not been accustomed to self-control. Ibeg of you to forgive me, and to forgive me although I am notparticularly repentant. "

"What do you mean by that, Rosamund?" asked the Professor, his eyesdarkening and a look of pain crossing his face. 

"Because I think I have helped Lady Jane, and I want, please, Professor, your forgiveness and then your help. "

As she spoke she suddenly dropped on her knees by his side and laid onehand on his knee. 

"I want your help, " she said, looking up into his face, "for dear LadyJane was mother's friend, and she has got such a strange, wild, beautiful little daughter, whom nobody understands, and who is, Iconfess, exceedingly naughty. But I--yes, I, Professor--want to tameher. "

"I have heard of her, " said Professor Merriman. "There is no one livingin the place who has not heard of Irene Ashleigh. The fact is, her nameis a terror to the neighborhood. I have heard dreadful stories of thatchild, and the thought of her has weighed on my mind. "

"As it is weighing on mine now, " said Rosamund in a low voice, her eyessuddenly filling with tears. 

"My dear, you have been sent to me to be trained as I would train my ownchild--to be trained in this little simple school, to be educated inmind and body, not to be thrown into contact with a girl who is in noway fit to know you. At present, Rosamund, you are under masters andgovernors, and have, according to scriptural precepts, to obey them. By-and-by your time of emancipation will come, and you will oweallegiance only to God and those whom you love, my dear; but until thattime comes it seems to me scarcely fit or advisable that you should haveanything to do with Irene. I told Lady Jane so this evening. "

"You told Lady Jane that?" said Rosamund, rising to her feet, her facevery pale, her eyes dark as night. 

"Yes, I did, for I considered it my duty. "

"Then you would like me to leave you, Professor? You would like me towrite to my mother and explain all the circumstances to her, and beg andimplore of her to take me away?"

"You must please yourself, Rosamund, " said the Professor; and now herose and in his turn laid his hand on her shoulder. "You have a generousheart, I can see. But you have never been subjected to the rigorous lawsof self-control. You showed a sad want of self-control when youdisobeyed me to-day, and again I perceive it breaking out. If you cannotobey me, Rosamund, you must go. Yes, I shall be sorry to have to say it, but you must go. "

"And does that mean, " said Rosamund, "that I am not to see Irene, that Iam not to try to help her, that I am not to be a friend to Lady Jane, that my mother's wishes in this matter are to be disregarded?"

"It means, " said the Professor very gravely, "that, for the present atleast, you are to have nothing whatever to do with IreneAshleigh--nothing whatever to do with her. You understand that, Rosamund. And I give you a week, my dear, to decide. Think over theadvantages of this home. Think what it means to your friends, and willeventually mean to yourself, and try to discover that I am wise in mygeneration, although you doubtless consider me foolish. If at the end ofthe week you have found out that you cannot really obey me--or, rather, that you will not--I shall have, reluctantly, to write to your motherand ask her to remove you, for the other girls cannot be contaminatedwith that most fatal of all sins, the sin of direct disobedience. "

Rosamund bowed her head. The tears she could not repress brimmed to hereyes. Suddenly she flung off the Professor's detaining hand. 

"Oh, you are hard!" she said. "Is no one to help a girl who will soonbecome irreclaimable? Why, already I have an influence over her. "

But the Professor did not answer. 

"Give yourself a week, " he said after a long pause; "then come to meagain with your resolution. "

She was about to leave the room when he again laid his hand on her arm. 

"Give me your word of honor, Rosamund Cunliffe, that you do not go againto The Follies until the week is up. "

She looked at him, struggled to speak, but remained silent. 

"Your word of honor, " he repeated, "you do not go to The Follies untilthe week is up. "

"My word of honor!" she said then in a faltering tone. "I will not go onone condition, that you allow me to write to Lady Jane. "

"You may do that if you promise to tell her the exact truth, that youare on parole for a week. At the end of that time you may come to adecision. God grant it may be a right one! I trust you, but leave menow, please, dear. "

Rosamund left the room. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE RECTORY. 

On the following Wednesday all the girls belonging to Mrs. Merriman'sschool, accompanied by Miss Archer, went to have tea with theSingletons. Even Rosamund was interested in this visit. She did not saymuch about it. She had been rather silent and, as Jane Denton said, "offcolor" for the last few days. She had forgotten to be wild orcantankerous. She had even ceased to notice Lucy; and as to her lessons, she had gone through the tasks assigned to her with sufficientpromptitude and sufficient correctness to win fairly good remarks fromthe two governesses and from the different teachers who came to visitthe little school. Of Irene Ashleigh she absolutely refused to speak. With regard to her adventure on Sunday she also kept a profound silence. No one, not even Jane Denton, could induce her to alter her mind withregard to this particular. Jane was anxious about her friend. LauraEverett said that she did not think Rosamund Cunliffe nearly asinteresting as when she first met her. Phyllis Flower looked wise andmysterious, as she always did, and everything settled down to amonotonous and yet harmonious contentment at Sunnyside. 

Nevertheless, Wednesday was thought a good deal about, and the girls ofthe entire school--for every single one was invited--headed by Lucy andaccompanied by Miss Archer, started to walk to the Rectory. 

Now, Rosamund's interest in this expedition was on no account to examinethe "Leaves, " as naughty Irene called the rector's daughters; but shewanted to watch Miss Carter, and if possible to get a word with her, andto induce her to tell her something more with regard to the wild andmischievous girl whom, nevertheless, she could not get for a moment outof her head. 

When the young people arrived at the Rectory they found the rector'sdaughters waiting for them, not dressed in their quaint green dresses ason Sunday, but in simple white, with green ribbons, however, round theirwhite straw hats. They looked particularly pretty and interesting, andRosamund could not help feeling that under different circumstances shemight have been glad to make friends with them. Maud, the eldest girl, had very straight, well-formed features. She was intensely fair, withlarge, clear blue eyes; and her hair, golden, with warm shades in it, hung below her waist. Her little mouth was small and rosy and very firm. She had a pretty cleft in her chin, a good carriage; and, in short, shewas just the sort of girl to captivate other girls. Beyond doubt she hadfor some time acted as mother to her sisters; for Alice, the next inage, was about two years younger. Then came Bertha and Mary, prettylittle girls of nine and ten years of age, and then Ivy and Jasmine. 

They made an interesting group as they clustered round the girls fromSunnyside and bade them welcome, Maud taking the lead, and finallyattaching herself to Rosamund; for she guessed, in some sort ofinstinctive way, that Rosamund had more character than the otherschool-girls, and would be more likely to interest her. 

"Come and walk with me, won't you?" she said. "I want to introduce youto dear Miss Carter. She is longing to see you. She knows--we allknow--about your wonderful escapade on Sunday. "

Rosamund felt herself turning pale just for a moment: then the colorflooded her cheeks. 

"I would rather not speak about Sunday, if you don't mind, " she said. 

"Certainly I don't mind, " replied Maud in a very quiet and lady-likeway. "That is, if you would really rather not, " she continued after apause. "We know a great deal of Irene Ashleigh from Miss Carter, and weare all interested in her. "

"I should have thought you would have hated her, " said Rosamundsuddenly. 

"No--not exactly. She has a sort of fascination for us. Whenever we wantdear Carter to make us thoroughly happy, or to give us a great treat, weget her to tell us about this wild, this formidable little Irene. Shecould not do it at first, poor thing! for, you know--but I can't speakof that to-day. Oh! here she is, coming down the path. Ah, Miss Carter, "called Maud, "this is Rosamund"----

"Rosamund Cunliffe, " said Rosamund. 

"Rosamund Cunliffe, the girl who was so plucky and went on the lake withIrene Ashleigh on Sunday afternoon. "

"You were very fortunate, " said Miss Carter, speaking in a prim voice. "It was, I regret to say, otherwise with me. I could not command her, and she took me"----Miss Carter's lips trembled. 

"Don't speak of it now, dear Cartery. It always upsets you, doesn't it?Let us talk of something else. You are very happy with us, aren't you, Cartery love?"

"Cartery love" expressed that she was, and Maud slipped her handaffectionately through her governess's arm. 

Rosamund gave the latter lady a keen glance. She saw that she wasnaturally extremely kind, but also shy and wanting in courage. 

"She could never master Irene, " thought the girl. "Irene is going to begiven to me. She shall be mine. I mean to help her. I mean, whateverhappens, to save her. But I don't mind talking a wee little bit abouther to 'Cartery love, ' as that funny Maud calls her. "

The rest of the girls came up in a group, and the next hour or two werespent wandering through the pleasant gardens, while laughter, jokes, andgood-humored chatter of all sorts filled the air. 

Then came tea. Now, the rector's teas were celebrated. They were, infact, that old-fashioned institution, now, alas! so rapidly disappearingfrom our English life, known as "high tea. " Eggs, boiled ham, chickens, stewed fruits, fresh ripe fruit of every sort and variety, graced theboard. No dinner followed this meal; but sandwiches and lemonadegenerally concluded the happy day. 

The girls knew that they were not expected back until bedtime, and gavethemselves absolutely up to the pleasures of the time. The Rectory was acharming old house, being quite a hundred and fifty or two hundred yearsold; and the study, or schoolroom, as the girls called it, where theyinvariably partook of tea, was a low-roofed apartment running rightacross the eastern side of the house. It was, therefore, at this hour adelightfully cool room, and was rendered more so by the bowery shade ofgreen trees. 

Rosamund found herself sitting near Maud at the meal, and she suddenlyturned to her and said, "I quite understand now why you wear green, andwhy some people call you the Leaves. "

"One person, you mean, " said Maud, coloring slightly. 

Lucy gave Rosamund an angry glance, and even managed to kick her underthe table. This kick was highly resented by that young person, who, asshe said to herself, stiffened her neck on the spot and determined toshow what mettle she was made of. 

"I'm not going to be mastered by that horrid Lucy, come what may, " shethought. 

Although it was impossible to be absolutely rude to Maud, who was one ofthose charming girls, unaffected, affectionate, and natural, who mustdelight every one, yet Rosamund's real object was to have a talk with"Cartery love. " Now, Cartery's hands were full at that moment, for shewas absorbed pouring out coffee at the other end of the table, neverthinking once of herself, attending to the wants of every one else. Shewas one of those retiring people who may come and go in a crowd withoutany one specially noticing them; but if a kind office is wanted to bedone in the most unobtrusive and gentle way, then "Cartery love" wassure to be at the fore. On this occasion she did glance once or twice atRosamund, and something which was not often seen in her eyes filled themfor a moment--a look of mingled admiration and fear. Rosamund determinedto bide her time. 

"I have not come here to make friends with the stupid Leaves, " she saidto herself. "I have come here to talk to Miss Carter, and talk to her Iwill. The week is coming to a close, and I have to give my decision. Howthat decision will turn out depends as much on 'Cartery love' as onanybody else. "

Tea, good as it was, came to an end at last, and the children went outinto the grounds, some to play tennis, some croquet, and some to wanderaway, two and two, each talking, as girls will, of their hopes and fearsand ambitions. 

Rosamund, to whom Maud devoted herself, turned suddenly to that youngperson. 

"I will confide in you, " she said. "You are longing to play tennis, areyou not?"

"Oh no, thank you, not at all, " said Maud, who was one of the championplayers of the neighborhood, and could never bear to be out of any gamethat was in progress. 

"But I know you are. I can read through people pretty well, " saidRosamund, speaking in a low tone. "Now, I want to have a little talkwith Miss Carter. Won't you go and play, and forget all about me, andlet me have a chat with Miss Carter?"

"With our darling Cartery? Why, certainly, you shall if you like. I seeyou want to get her to tell you about Irene. I doubt if she will. Do, please, be merciful. She is very nervous. When she came to us she wasalmost ill, and we had to take great, great care of her. Would you like, first of all, to know how she came to us?"

"I should very much. "

Rosamund forgot at this juncture all about Maud's passionate love fortennis. 

"Well, it was in this way. We had no governess; we used to go to a sortof school--not the Merrimans', for they had not started one at thetime--and I used to teach the little children, and things were rather atsixes and sevens. Not that father ever minded, for he is the sort of manwho just lets you do what you like, and I think that is why we havegrown up nicer than most girls. "

"Indeed, I didn't know it would have that effect, " said Rosamund, tryingto suppress the sarcastic note in her voice. 

"Don't speak in that tone, please. I think we really are quite nicegirls--I mean we never quarrel, and we are always chummy andaffectionate, and we try to do our best. We are not a bit self-righteousor conceited, or anything of that sort; for, you see, when our dearmother was alive she taught us so beautifully. Her rule was such a verysimple one. She never punished us; all she ever said was, 'Do it becauseit is right. You cannot quite understand why it is right while you arevery young; but, nevertheless, do it because it is right and becauseyou love me. ' And when God took her, and we thought our hearts wouldbreak, we all sat in a conclave together, and we determined to followour mother's rule, and to do the right because it was right and becausewe loved her. I cannot tell you what a terrible time we had; but westuck to that resolve. Nevertheless, our education was a poor affair, although father never noticed it. 

"One day I was out driving with father, and we saw a poor lady sittingby the roadside. She looked so forlorn, and her eyes were red withcrying. We did not know her; but she knew us, for she stood up at once, and said to father, 'You are Mr. Singleton?'

"Then, of course, father remembered her, only I did not. She was one ofthe many governesses who had come to try to tame Irene Ashleigh. Sofather and I both got down from the gig, and she told us that she hadleft The Follies and was going back to London to try to get anothersituation. She said that she had sent on her trunks by a porter to thestation, and she meant to walk, for Lady Jane was very, very angry withher. She could not go on. She broke down, poor dear! and very nearlyfainted. She said she did feel very faint and bad, so we just got herinto the gig--as, of course, any people who had any feelings woulddo--and we brought her straight back to the Rectory, and she has stayedwith us ever since. 

"For the first month she was not our governess at all; she was our sortof child, to be petted and loved and fussed over. We put her in thesunniest room, and when we found that her nerves were so terribly shakenthat she could scarcely sleep alone, one of my sisters had a little bedmade up in the room and slept with her at night. We fed her up, didn'twe just? and petted her; and when we found she liked it we took tocalling her 'Cartery love, ' and she did not mind it a bit. Then she gotbetter, and said she must seek another situation, and father said sheshould stay and teach us and look after things in the house a bit. Soshe stayed. She knows such a lot, and does teach us so beautifully, andshe isn't half nor quarter as shy as she was; we all love her, and sheloves us. I think if Irene were not so near she would be perfectlyhappy. "

"Thank you for telling me so much, " said Rosamund when Maud ceasedspeaking. 

"I had to tell you, for I want you, if you talk to her, to be verycareful, for she is still exceedingly nervous. And no wonder. What shelived through at The Follies was enough to destroy the nerves of anywoman, even the stoutest-hearted in the world. "

"Well, I should like to speak to her, and I will certainly not harmher, " said Rosamund. 

Maud left her for a little while, and in a few minutes Miss Carter wasseen coming down the path with Maud hanging on her arm. 

"Now, Cartery dear, " she said, "you talk to Rosamund Cunliffe, who is afriend of mine, and I will go and have a good, romping game of tennis. Oh, I see they are just breaking up the present set, so I am just intime. "

Off ran Maud. Miss Carter's light-blue eyes followed her with anexpression of the deepest affection. 

"You seem very fond of her, " said Rosamund suddenly. 

"I don't know what I should have done without her. She saved my life andmy reason. "

"I don't want to talk about what has evidently given you very greatdistress, " said Rosamund after a time; "but I should like to tell youthat I know. "

"You know?" said Miss Carter, beginning to tremble, and turning verypale. 

"Yes, for Irene told me. "

"My dear, dear Miss Cunliffe, how had you the courage to go with her inthat terrible boat? She actually took you into the current--thatappalling current where one is so powerless--and you escaped!"

"Oh, yes, " said Rosamund lightly. "It was a mere nothing. You see, I amstronger than she is. All she wants is management. "

"I could never manage her, " said Miss Carter. "I could tell you of otherthings she did. "

"No, I don't want to hear unless you are going to tell me something niceabout her. Every one seems to speak against that poor girl; but I amdetermined to be her friend. "

"Are you really?" said Miss Carter, suddenly changing her tone andlooking fixedly at Rosamund. "Then you must be about the noblest girl inthe world. "

These words were very gratifying to Rosamund, who did think herselfrather good in taking up Irene's cause; although, of course, she wasfascinated by the exceedingly naughty young person. 

"Yes, indeed, you are splendid, " said Miss Carter; "and I know theremust be good in the child. Such courage, such animal spirits, suchdaring cannot be meant for nothing. The fact is, her mother cannotmanage her. Her mother is too gentle, too like me. "

"Dear Lady Jane! Miss Carter, when my mother was young she was her greatfriend, and she said that Lady Jane was rather naughty. "

"Ah!" said Miss Carter, with a sigh, "she has left all that behind her along time ago. The only time I found her hard and unsympathetic was whenI told her that I could not stay any longer at The Follies. She beggedand implored of me to stay; but, of course, you know the story. I wasunder a promise to go, and I could not let out that Irene had wrung itfrom me at the risk of my life. So I went, and she took no notice ofme, although it seemed to me that a sort of despair filled her face. Anyhow, off I went, and I am a happy woman here. I don't know what is tobe done with Irene. "

How long were you with her?

"A month altogether; but that month seems like years. I was very glad toget the post, for I must tell you, Miss Cunliffe, that I am poor anddependent altogether on what I earn for my daily bread. I have an oldmother at home; I help her to keep alive with some of my earnings; andLady Jane offered a very big salary--over a hundred a year--and therewas only one child to teach, and I thought it would be so delightful. She mentioned the charms of the country-house, and that she did notrequire a great deal of education; and she even spoke of the lake andthe boat. Oh, I was so glad to come! for I am not certificated, youknow, and cannot get the posts that other women can. Well, anyhow, Iarrived, and for a month it was really a reign of terror. "

Miss Carter began to tremble. 

"You must not do that, really, " said Rosamund. "You are not suited toit. But do tell me what you think a very strong-minded person would havemade of Irene. "

"Well, you see, the first and principal thing was not to fear her, andit was impossible not to fear her, for she was up to so many tricks; shewas worse than the most mischievous school-boy who ever walked. Shewould suddenly come into the drawing-room in her gymnasium clothes, andturn somersaults up and down the room in the presence of Lady Jane'sdistinguished guests. Oh! I cannot tell you half she did--I dare nottell you. There was no trick she was not up to; but you will know foryourself if you really mean to have more to do with her. "

"I certainly mean to have a great deal more to do with her, although atthe present moment I am forbidden by Professor Merriman even to speak toher. "

"I know the Merrimans have a very bad opinion of her, " said Miss Carter. 

"Yes, that is just it; but she is the daughter of my mother's dearestfriend, and I am not going to give her up. "

"Yet you are at school at Mr. Merriman's!"

"That is true. "

Miss Carter looked in a puzzled way at Rosamund. 

"I cannot reveal any more of my plans, " said Rosamund, speaking in arather lofty tone; "but now I want to know a few things about her. Isshe stingy or generous?"

"Oh! absolutely and perfectly generous, and in her own way forgivingtoo; and I do not think she could tell a lie, for she has no fear inher, and I suppose it is fear that makes us tell lies. She has neverfeared any mortal. She has no respect for authority, not even hermother; and although she rushes at her sometimes and smothers her withkisses, she seems to have no real affection for her. If I could be surethat she was absolutely affectionate I think something could be done forher. Now, that is all I can tell you. You can scarcely believe how thissubject distresses me and causes that terrible trembling to come on. Idon't think, Miss Cunliffe, young as you are, and brave as you doubtlessare, you ought to undertake the reform of that wild girl at your age. Allow me to say that you are sent to school by your parents for adefinite purpose, and not to undertake the reform of Irene Ashleigh. "

A frown came over Rosamund's face, and Miss Carter, glancing at her, sawthat her words had caused displeasure. 

"Forgive me, " she said gently; "I don't really mean to be unkind. Indeed, I admire you, and admire your bravery beyond words. To be asbrave as you are would be a noble gift, and if it were only my ownheritage, how happy I should be!"

"I tell you what it is, Miss Carter, " said Rosamund suddenly; "if ever Iwant your help, and if I can assure you that you can give it withoutpersonal danger to yourself, will you give it to me?"

"If I think it right I will truly do so. "

"Then the day may come, " said Rosamund; "there is no saying. "

Just then Ivy's pretty voice was heard calling Miss Carter. 

"She is my second youngest pupil, and such a darling child!" said MissCarter, her eyes brightening. "Yes, dear, " she continued as Ivy dancedup to her; "what is it?"

"We want a game of Puss-in-the-corner, and the silliest and youngestamong us are going to play. "

Jumping up as she spoke, Miss Carter said she belonged to that group, and Rosamund turned somewhat disdainfully away. 

CHAPTER IX. 

AN UNEXPECTED ROOM-MATE. 

It was on that very same day that Jane Denton, Rosamund's specialfriend, complained of sudden chill and headache. She was a little sick, too, and could not touch her supper. Mrs. Merriman always kept aclinical thermometer handy, and on discovering that the young girl'stemperature was considerably over one hundred degrees, she took frightand had her removed to a room in a distant part of the house. 

"If she is not better in the morning we will send for the doctor, " washer verdict. "Now, girls, one thing: I do not wish the Professor to beannoyed. I undertook this school in order to save him anxiety, and if heknows of every trifling indisposition he may be terribly vexed and putout. I therefore take charge of Jane to-night, sleeping in her room andlooking after her, and administering to her simple remedies. If in themorning she is no better I will send for the doctor, and then we willknow how to act. Meanwhile you, Rosamund, have your room to yourself. "

Rosamund was distressed for her friend, and boldly announced at oncethat she would act as nurse. 

"I ought to, " she said. "She is my friend, and I have always been fondof her. Besides, it seems exceedingly hard that you, Mrs. Merriman, whowork so much for us all day long, should have to work at night as well. Do let me undertake this. "

Mrs. Merriman could scarcely keep the tears back from her eyes whenRosamund spoke. She could not help liking the girl, notwithstanding hereccentricities and her very bold act of disobedience on the previousSunday. But she was firm in her resolve. 

"No, dear, " she said; "I am obliged to you for making the offer. "

"Hypocrite!" said Lucy angrily to herself. "She knows it cannot beaccepted. "

Mrs. Merriman was not looking at Lucy; on the contrary, she was lookingfull into Rosamund's face. 

"I am obliged to you for making the offer, " she continued; "but it isimpossible for me to accept it, for the simple reason that there is justthe possibility that Jane may be going to have some infectious disease, in which case I could not hear of any other girl in my establishmentrunning any risk. Therefore you see for yourself that I cannot acceptyour offer. I should be unfaithful to your mother if I did. "

"Oh, come, Rosamund!" said Laura Everett; "do let us go out and have achat together. Of course, Mrs. Merriman is right. We will help you allwe can, Mrs. Merriman, by being extra good girls. Isn't that the bestway?"

Mrs. Merriman admitted that it was, and the two girls, their armsentwined, went out into the soft summer night. Laura Everett, with hermerry face, blue eyes, and fair hair, was a great contrast to RosamundCunliffe. She was exceedingly clever and fond of books. Most of hertastes lay, however, in a scientific direction. She was devoted tochemistry and mathematics, and could already work well in these twobranches of science. She was intensely matter-of-fact, and in realityhad nothing whatever in common with Rosamund. 

Lucy Merriman had a great admiration for Laura Everett: in the firstplace, because her mother, Lady Everett, was Mrs. Merriman's old friend;and in the next place, because she possessed, as Lucy expressed it, theinvaluable gift of common-sense. She had rather taken Laura under herown wing, had intended to make her her special friend, had meant to trother round and to show her to other friends; in short, as much aspossible to divide her from Rosamund, whom she considered a mostdangerous and pernicious influence. 

But Laura had character of her own, and admired Rosamund; and now thatshe saw the girl looking rather pale, with an almost pathetic expressionin her brown eyes, her heart smote her with a sense of pity, and shewent up to her eagerly. 

"I want you to tell me just what you think about the Singletons, " shesaid. "Let us walk about under the trees. Isn't it nice and home-likehere? Don't you think so, Rosamund?"

"Perhaps, " said Rosamund in a dubious voice. Then she added impulsively, "You see, Laura, it is somewhat difficult for me to talk to you, forLucy is your friend and she is not mine. "

"I know you do not like her--I mean I know she is in every way youropposite; but if you only would take no notice of her littlepeculiarities, and accept her as she really is, you would soon find goodpoints in her. She is devoted to her parents, and is very true. I know, of course, she is a little matter-of-fact. "

"Yes, that is it, " said Rosamund. "For goodness' sake, Laura, don'twaste time talking about her. We can say as much as ever we like aboutthe Singletons. I must say I am rather charmed with them. "

"And so am I, " said Laura, "particularly with Maud. She is so bright andunselfish. "

"The person I like best of the entire group is Miss Carter, " saidRosamund stoutly. 

"What!" exclaimed Laura, with a laugh. "That poor, thin, frightened-looking governess--'Cartery love, ' as they call her?"

"Yes, 'Cartery love, ' or anything else you like to name her. I took afancy to her, and thought her awfully nice. I may see more of her;there's no saying. "

"You are so odd, Rosamund--so different from the other girls!"

"Mother told me that before, but somehow I never believed it. Of course, I have never been at school before. "

"You can scarcely call this homely, pleasant house, school. "

"I should enjoy it but for Lucy. But there, we are treading on dangerousground. "

"So we are, " said Laura. Then she added stoutly, "I like it in spite ofLucy; or, rather, I like Lucy as much as anything else belonging to theschool. I hope, " she continued as they paced slowly under the fir-trees, "that you are not really anxious about Jane. I know that you and she arefriends. "

"We have been friends almost since we were babies, " said Rosamund. "Notthat we are a bit alike in character. "

"Indeed you are not. Jane hasn't a quarter of your spirit. "

"Perhaps it is because we are such opposites that we are such greatfriends, " continued Rosamund. 

"Perhaps; but do say you are not anxious about her. "

"Not a scrap. I know Janey's ways. She is a little bit of a glutton ismy Jane, and she overate herself at tea at the Singletons'. Now, youmust not breathe it to mortal; but when I saw her taking that thirdplate of strawberries and cream, and that fifth hot buttered cake, Iguessed there'd be something up to-night. She gets attacks ofindigestion very severely; but if she has a chance of making a goodmeal--I mean a meal that she likes, for, of course, although the foodhere is good and plentiful, it is very simple--she never can resist it. There's my Janey to the life, so you needn't suppose that I am a littlebit anxious about her. "

"Well, that's all right, " said Laura. "Somehow I thought by your manneryou were. "

"That is because I offered to stay in her room to-night. It did seemsuch a pity that dear Mrs. Merriman should be tired out. "

"You have a very kind heart, Rosamund. Come, you know it. "

"Have I? I don't think I do know it. But do you know what it is, Laura?I am tired and would like to go to bed. Do you mind if I leave you?"

Laura, who saw Lucy in the distance, and was not so taken up withRosamund as she had imagined she would be, consented without a moment'shesitation to part from her friend, and Rosamund presently went up toher own room. She had said good-night to the rest of the party, andwondered what she should feel like when she entered her room with noJane to keep her company. Not that she was anything like as attached toJane as Jane was to her; for she was Jane's idol, her ideal of all thatwas noble and princess-like and beautiful. Jane, to Rosamund, was anordinary good-tempered girl, with whom she could put up, and on whom shecould impose to a certain extent. 

Nothing could exceed Rosamund's amazement, and a scream almost rose toher lips, when she entered and saw, curled up snugly in Jane's bed, noless a person than Irene Ashleigh. Irene's exceedingly bright facepeeped up above the clothes. She gave a low, impish laugh, and then saidslowly:

"Don't scream. Keep your nerve. I climbed up by the wistaria. I havebeen in bed for the last hour, expecting you. I happened to be hidingjust below the window, clinging on for bare life to the wistaria and thethick ivy, and I heard the conversation between you and Mrs. Merriman, so I knew that you would have your room to yourself, and decided that Iwould share it with you. Now lock the door, for I have a great deal tosay. "

"But we are not allowed to lock our doors, " said Rosamund. 

"You will lock it to-night, because I order you to, " said Irene. 

"I shall do nothing of the sort. It is my room, and I will do exactly asI like. "

Irene sat up in bed. Nothing could be more picturesque than her generalappearance. She was in the red frock that she usually wore; her wildhair curled in elf-locks all over her head; her eyes, bright as stars, shone in the middle of her little elfin face; her charming lips poutedjust for a moment. Then she said in a clear tone, "What if I get up andstrike you right across the face? Will you lock the door in preferenceto that?"

"I will not lock the door. "

Like a flash, Irene was out of bed and had struck Rosamund a resoundingblow on her cheek. Rosamund felt the blow tingling, but she stood firm. 

"Will you lock the door now?"

"No. "

"What if I give you a blow on the other cheek?"

"Here it is for your majesty, " said Rosamund, turning her other cheek tothe foe. 

Irene burst into a laugh. 

"What a creature you are! But you know we are in danger. I have such alot to say to you, and any one may nab us. Won't you lock the door justto please me? I won't slap you any more. I am sorry I hurt your dearcheek. I came because I could not help myself, and because I could notlive without you any longer. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and nosign of you, and I just hungered for you. I am pining for you throughall the days and all the nights, through every hour, in the midst ofevery meal; not speaking about you, for that is not my way, but justhungering and hungering, and yet you say you will not lock the door. "

"No, Irene; and you ought not to be here. What is to be done?"

Poor Rosamund had never felt more bewildered in her life. She had givenher word of honor; and her word of honor was, to her, worthy of respect. She had never yet broken it. Should she break it now? Irene looked ather for a few minutes in wonder. The two girls were standing in thecentre of the room, for, of course, Irene was fully dressed. Compared toRosamund, she was a small girl, for Rosamund was tall and exceedinglywell developed for her age. Irene was a couple of years younger, but shewas as lithe as steel. Her little fingers could crush and destroy ifthey pleased. Her thin arms were muscular to a remarkable degree for soyoung a girl. She had not a scrap of superfluous flesh on her body. Atthis moment she looked more spirit than girl; and if Rosamund could havegot herself to believe that there were such creatures as changelings, she might almost have given credence to Irene's own story of herself. 

As it was, however, she knew quite well that there must be a fightbetween them, and that if ever she was to influence Irene for good shemust conquer her now. 

"Look here, " she said, going straight up to the younger girl; "you didwrong to come in here. "

"I did wrong?" said Irene, with a little impish laugh. "But then Ialways do wrong. That doesn't matter. "

"It may not matter to you. I am not concerning myself about your moralsat this moment, but I am thinking about my own. When you did wrong nowyou injured me, and I am not going to put up with it. "

"You are not going to put up with it? And how are you going to preventit, darling?"

Before Rosamund could utter a word, Irene had sprung upon her, seizedher round the waist, and compelled Rosamund to seat herself upon theside of the bed, which she herself had been occupying a few minutes ago. 

"Now, darling, " she said, "you are not going to get away from me, and Ibelieve in your heart you don't want to. "

Poor Rosamund! a great wave of longing to help this queer child sweptover her heart; but there was her word of honor. She was a passionate, head-strong, naughty girl; but she could not give that up. Besides, shecould not do anything with Irene in the future if she did not conquerher now. 

"You are not going to--to say you don't like me?" said Irene, anexpression of absolute terror filling her eyes and making them lookwilder than ever. "Nobody ever dared to say that to me, and you are notgoing to be the first. "

"As a matter of fact, " said Rosamund, "I like you very much. "

"There, then, I am satisfied, " exclaimed Irene, and she flung her thinarms round Rosamund's neck, squeezed herself up close to her, and kissedher again and again. 

"Ah!" she said, "I knew that all my life I was waiting for somebody; andthat somebody was you, just you, so big, so brave, so--so different fromall the others. I should not be the horrid thing I am if the others hadnot been afraid of me. I got worse and worse, and at last I could notcontrol myself any longer. I did things that perhaps I ought not to havedone; but if you give me up I don't know what will happen--I don't knowwhere things will end. Are you going to give me up?"

"I will tell you now exactly what has happened, Irene, and will leave itto you to judge how you ought to act for my sake at the present moment. You say you love me----"

"I suppose that is what I feel, " said Irene. "It is a queer sort ofsensation, and I have never had it before. It seems to make my heartlighter, and when I think of you I seem to get a sense of rest andpleasure. When you are away from me I feel savage with every one else;but when you are near I think the best of others. And I think it is justpossible that if I saw much of you I'd be a sort of a good girl--not avery good one, but a sort of a good girl, particularly if you'd managemother and manage the servants, and tell them not to be such geese as tobe afraid of me. For, of course, you know, I can't help being achangeling. "

"Now, Irene, you must listen to me. I ought to be in bed and asleep. People will hear us talking, and I won't allow the door to be locked, whether you like it or not, because it is against the rules. "

"Gracious!" said Irene, "couldn't we both get out of the window, andclimb down by the wistaria and the ivy, and reach the ground, and go andhide in the plantation? We could spend the night there, locked in eachother's arms, so happy--oh, so happy! By the way, I saw a littlesummer-house--we could spend the night in the summer-house, couldn't we?Couldn't we?"

It was a temptation. Rosamund was fond of adventures. The night was avery hot one; the room was close. Outside, there were stars innumerable. Mrs. Merriman, the only person who ever invaded the girls' bedroomsafter the hours of repose, would certainly not intrude upon Rosamund. Itwould be nice to spend one night with her friend. Could she call Ireneher friend? Anyhow, it would be nice to spend one night in the open air, and she could influence Irene and help her, and----But then there wasthe word of honor. 

"I can't, " she said. "I would have liked it, of course. But I will tellyou what happened. When I got back home the other night I saw ProfessorMerriman, and he was very angry with me, and he said that I ought not tohave disobeyed him. I told him all about you, and"----

"Of course he hates me, horrid old frump!" said Irene. "But you are notgoing to mind him. Why, mother has been writing to him, and writing toyour mother, too; and the one thing about you that I don't quite like isthat mother had evidently been thinking that you have been sent as asort of Providence here to reform me. You must see by my making thatremark that I tolerate you very much indeed, or I should not endure it. There, it's a fact that I do care for you. I don't mind mother, and Idon't mind your mother; but I am willing to be a little bit good if youare with me. But I am not going away from you now. You can choosewhether you have me in your room all night or whether you and I spend ahappy time in that dear little bower in the plantation. "

"I cannot choose either, " said Rosamund stoutly, "for I will tell youwhat did happen. I promised Professor Merriman that I would have nothingto do with you for a whole week. At the end of that time I was to givehim my decision. Now, this is Wednesday, so the week won't be up untilSunday. So you must go, Irene. You must go at once. I will meet you atthe end of the week, or, if you prefer it, I will go down to ProfessorMerriman now and tell him that you came in, and that I asked you to go. "

"Oh, what a mean spitfire of a thing you'd be if you did that!" saidIrene, her eyes flashing with anger. "You can't mean it--you simplycan't. "

Just then there was the noise of approaching footsteps on the landingoutside, and the handle of the door was turned. In a flash, so quicklythat even Rosamund could not believe her own eyes, Irene was hidingunder the bed, and Lucy Merriman entered. 

Lucy looked prim and neat, as usual, in her white dressing-gown and herhair in a long plait down her back. 

"I have come for--but surely you were talking to some one?" she said, addressing Rosamund. 

"I sometimes repeat poems to myself, " said Rosamund, who was standingwith her back to Lucy, quivering all over with indignation. 

"But I heard two voices; and it is against the rules for any noise to bemade in the bedrooms after ten o'clock. I have come for----"

"Do you mind telling me what you have come for, so that you may get itand go?" was Rosamund's response. 

"You are exceedingly impertinent, " said Lucy. "Why do you always addressme as you do? You try your utmost to make me unhappy in my own home. "

"And you, instead of treating me as an honored guest, try your utmost tomake me miserable, " was Rosamund's quick reply. "Never mind, " shecontinued, hot passion getting the better of her; "I shall not be withyou much longer. "

"That is quite nice--that is what I hoped, " said Lucy almost gleefully. "Well, Jane Denton is very bad, and they are thinking of sending for thedoctor. Of course, you don't care whether your friend lives or dies. Anyhow, I have been sent to fetch a bottle of aromatic vinegar whichJane, poor girl! said she had left on her washhand-stand. Ah! here itis. "

Lucy took it up. She looked round the room. Poor Rosamund's terror canbe better imagined than described, for the wicked Irene had lifted thevalance of the bed, and her bright eyes and a tiny portion of her facecould be distinctly seen by any one who happened to glance in thatdirection. Had Lucy seen her she must have screamed, for nothing moreelfish than that face could be imagined. As it was, all might have beenwell had not Irene, just as Lucy was reaching the door, given a low, wild whoop, and then disappeared again under the valance of the bed. 

"Now, I know you have some one there. "

"If you are not afraid of rats you had better look, " was Rosamund'squick response. But she turned very pale, and Lucy, who was something ofa coward herself, said after a minute's pause:

"Rats! You know there are no rats in the house. What fresh insult willyou bestow upon us?"

A moment later she had vanished from the room. Rosamund put both herhands to her hot ears. Irene sprang from her hiding-place. 

"Didn't I do it well? Oh, what a hateful, hateful girl she is! Now, Rosamund--Rose--whatever you call yourself--you had better just getright out of this window with me as fast as ever you can, or you'll haveLucy bringing her precious governesses, and her mother, and that sickgirl, Jane Denton--how dare she call herself Jane, my dear mother'sname?--as well as the Professor himself, on the scene to hunt for therats. Come, Rose, out with you! We will lock the door first, and thenall will be safe. "

It seemed to Rosamund at the moment that even her word of honor hadvanished out of sight, for her hatred of Lucy had really reachedboiling-point. She did turn the key in the lock, knowing well that noone would break open the door until the morning; and a minute later sheand Irene had escaped by the window, and gone down hand over hand by thewistaria and ivy until they reached the ground. Three minutes later theywere ensconced in the old summer-house, where they sat very close toeach other, Irene not talking much, and Rosamund wondering what was tobecome of her. 

"It seems to me, " said Rosamund to herself, as she looked down on thelittle creature who nestled up almost like a wild bird in her arms, "that I have burnt my boats, and that I cannot go back. But there is onething certain: I will tell the Professor the truth in the morning. "

All that Irene did, however, during the long hours of that summer'snight was to lie fast asleep with Rosamund's arm round her. But justbefore she fell into slumber, Rosamund said:

"Aren't you cold, Irene? Surely you are not accustomed, even in themiddle of summer, to wear so little clothing at night. "

"Bless you!" said Irene, "half the nights of my life I sleep in theboat. I go out just as night falls, and none of them can ever catch me;and there I sleep, curled up in the bottom of the boat. Oh! it issplendid to wake in the early morning and to hear the birds singing, andto feel the fresh, fresh air on my face. I was never meant forcivilization. When you come to live with me we will do the same, both ofus. We'll be an uncivilized pair of terrors--that is what we will be. Ifyou come to me, Rosamund, will you promise to be quite naughty? Youwon't turn awfully goody-goody, just to make me goody-goody?"

"I can promise nothing at present, " said Rosamund. "You did exceedinglywrong to come, and I did worse to yield to you, and to get out of thewindow, and to spend the night with you, as I have done. I don't knowwhat will happen in the morning--I really don't--and my friend so veryill, too. "

"Oh, bother your friend!" said Irene; and then she dropped off asleep, and Rosamund sat and thought things out. 

At first the night-air was delightful; but as the hours went by poorRosamund, who had not brought any extra wrap with her in her hastyflight, felt chilled and tired. She woke Irene when the sun was high inthe heavens. 

"Come, " she said, "I have broken my word of honor, and for you; but I amgoing now to take you back as far as The Follies. What will happenafterwards I do not know, and you mustn't ask me. If you don't comequietly at once I will never have anything more to do with you as longas I live. Get up! come along!"

"Why, you are quite cross; but you look very handsome, and I admire yourways, " said Irene. "Dear, dear! Wasn't it lovely sleeping in your arms?We will sleep together in a cosy bed at The Follies, won't we, darling?"

"I can't make any promises. I don't know what is going to happen. Comequickly. I want to be in the house and up in my own room before any onediscovers that I spent the night out. "

There seemed reason in this to Irene, and she suffered her friend towalk with her along the road. It was a glorious summer morning; but atso early an hour--not yet five o'clock--the air was cool. Exercise, however, soon revived Rosamund, and she lost that feeling of chill andfatigue which had made the latter part of the night so unpleasant toher. As to Irene, she was as fresh as a young bird, and the pranks sheplayed, and the somersaults she turned, and the extraordinary manner inwhich she went on would have terrified many girls, although Rosamundscarcely noticed them. She had already discovered that Irene's bark wasworse than her bite, and the best plan was to let her alone and not totake too much notice of her vagaries. 

The two girls parted at the gates of The Follies, Irene assuringRosamund that she was going to lay all sorts of traps for the servantsduring the next couple of hours. 

"I shall have great fun, " she said. "They have been more than usuallytroublesome lately, and I want every one to go, so that we can have afresh batch in their places when you come, darling; for you will come--Iknow you will--early next week. And, Rose, I will even be a little bitgood for you. "

There was a suspicion of tears in the wild, star-like eyes, and then thequeer little creature flashed out of sight. 

Rosamund stood still for a minute with her hand to her forehead. Shethen slowly retraced her steps. She was so lost in thought that she didnot notice the milkman as he rattled along with his cart; nor did shenotice the doctor, who passed in his gig, driving rapidly back toDartford. He, however, stared very hard at the good-looking girl, evidently a lady, who was out all alone at that early hour. 

By-and-by Rosamund got back to Sunnyside. She climbed up the ivy andwistaria and re-entered her own room. She carefully shut the window, unlocked her door, undressed, and got into bed. Her first impulse hadbeen to tell the whole story of her night's adventure to ProfessorMerriman; for she felt that, stern as he could be, there was alsosomething gentle about him, and he would certainly understand her. Buton second thought the desire to confide in him passed out of sight, moreparticularly as there was a noise and confusion--a sort of stifledconfusion--in the house: people hurrying backwards and forwards, andvoices sunk to whispers, which came sometimes to Rosamund's ears, andsometimes receded in the distance. 

By-and-by she looked at her watch and saw that it was half-past seven, the usual hour for the girls to get up. But no one had brought hotwater, and no one had called her. She felt really dead-tired at last. What did anything matter? She had got herself into such a serious scrapethat she did not think she could possibly stay more than a day or twolonger at the Merrimans' school. Of course she would be dismissed, expelled, disgraced. But she did not care. She was sorry forJane--quiet, gentle Jane--who had always been her devoted friend; butshe did not mind anybody else. Laura Everett she rather liked; but theother girls were indifferent to her, with the exception of Lucy, whomshe cordially hated. Before she knew where she was, Rosamund was soundasleep. 

CHAPTER X. 

JANE IN DANGER. 

Rosamund was awakened from her slumbers by Laura Everett, who shook herlightly by the shoulder. 

"Why, Rose, " she said, "I wish you'd wake up. We are all in such a stateof confusion and anxiety. Have you the least idea what the hour is?"

"No. Where am I?" said Rosamund, sitting up in bed and pushing back herhair. 

"Well, it is close on nine o'clock. We had breakfast anyhow thismorning, for nothing is in order. I cannot even explain how bad thingsare. "

"Try and tell me, Laura; don't keep me in suspense. "

"It's Jane, of course. "

"My friend Jane?"

"You heard last night that she was very ill. Lucy told you. Lucy hasbeen talking about you. She said you were very queer when she came inhere last night, and didn't show a scrap of feeling. But I am sure youare sorry for her. She is in great danger, Rosamund. "

"Jane in danger!"

Rosamund had always been fond of Jane, but she had never thought her ofthe slightest importance. She had always thought of her as just a goodsort to have as a friend; but all the admiration must be on the friend'sside, who must do all that Rosamund wished--for she, Rosamund, would notput herself out for her friend. But now things were changed. Jane Dentonwas the heroine of the hour. No one else in the whole of that house wasthought of in comparison with Jane. For the symptoms of the nightbefore had developed in a most aggravating way. She had grown worse andworse; in short, she was so alarmingly ill that when Lucy came into theroom Mrs. Merriman had decided to send for the doctor from Dartford. Hewas obliged to drive over, there being no train so late at night. Whenhe saw her he pronounced her illness to be diphtheria. How she had gotit nobody knew; but diphtheria Jane had, and of the most malignant type. 

"What is it?" said Rosamund, now turning to Laura, who sat down on theedge of her bed. "You think I have no heart, but you are mistaken. "

Her bright eyes filled with tears, and Laura was softened at once. 

"I knew you had a heart, dear, " she said. "But the fact is, you neverunderstood Lucy. I like Lucy, and you don't--there lies the differencebetween us. Lucy misunderstood you. She said that, instead of going tobed, you were making a most awful noise, reciting poetry to yourself intwo distinct voices, and that an extraordinary noise came from under thebed, and you declared it was rats. But she thinks you are a sort ofventriloquist, and can throw your voice anywhere you like. She wasabsolutely frightened, and rushed out of the room. "

"Well, the doctor arrived about two o'clock in the morning, and hestayed until early morning; and now the whole school knows, and what isto be done is more than I can tell. The doctor wants us all to leave thehouse. "

"I shan't go, " said Rosamund stoutly. 

"What do you mean, Rose? You mustn't think of yourself at a moment likethis. "

"I shall stay and nurse Jane. She is my friend. Don't keep me, please, Laura. What a horrible creature I have been! Oh, dear! oh, dear! Do youknow where the Professor is, Laura?"

"I believe he is out, but I don't know. Mrs. Merriman is looking afterJane at present. But, Rose, you won't be allowed to see her. The doctorhas forbidden any single individual except Mrs. Merriman to go into herroom, or to have anything whatever to do with her. You mustn't disobeyorders. A trained nurse is coming, and will be here in a very shorttime. Perhaps there will be two nurses. They are going to try that newtreatment--antitoxin. Poor Jane's room is not so very far from where Isleep, and I heard her groaning in the night. To think of our all beingso happy yesterday, and now this coming!"

"I know, " said Rosamund in a low tone. She had never expressed herselfso before. There was a lump in her throat. 

Laura went away and soon entered the schoolroom, where Lucy and theother girls, all looking pale and anxious, were standing about. Laurawent straight up to Lucy. 

"Well, " said Lucy, "is that thoughtless, heartless creature awake yet?Is she thinking of any one but herself?"

"Oh, yes, I woke her. She isn't heartless. I wish just at present, whenwe are in such anxiety, you would try to be kinder, Lucy, and"----

Laura's voice suddenly broke. 

Rosamund presently came downstairs. She wanted to find the Professor. She wanted she knew not what. As a matter of fact, he was not to befound, for he had gone by the very earliest train to Dartford to see Mr. And Mrs. Brett. 

The upshot of this visit was that soon Mrs. Brett's large, pale face, with its light-blue eyes and gentle smile, was seen passing the window. The Professor was with her. All the girls rushed out with a suddensense of relief to greet her. 

"Oh, Aunt Susan, we are so glad you have come!" said Lucy, her ownlittle face quivering with sudden emotion. 

"My dear, dear children, " said Mrs. Brett, "I have come to take you awaywith me--that is, all of you who can come. My husband and I are achildless couple, and we have plenty of room in our house. You must justpack your things and come along. That is what I have come for. There isa nurse coming to look after the poor girl who is so dreadfullyill. --Lucy, dear, your father is particularly anxious that you shouldcome--yes, and all the rest of you, for that matter. I can squeeze youall in; but I cannot manage the governesses, that is the only thing. Allthe rest--every single one of you--must come. Rosamund, you, of course;and, Laura, you also. Annie Millar--yes, certainly--and Phyllis Flower, and Agnes Sparkes--every single one of you shall come back with me. Itwill be Poverty Castle, my loves, and we'll have to stint and scrape andcontrive; but at any rate we'll be merry when we can be merry, and we'llforget our troubles in doing good to others. "

Nothing could exceed the heartiness of Mrs. Brett's manner. Her verysmile brought sunshine with it, and her firm voice confidence. It seemedin a minute to those agitated and unhappy girls that a ray of sunlighthad fallen upon them, and that the world was not quite so miserableafter all. 

They were still standing talking eagerly in the hall when a fly drew upat the door and Dr. Marshall stepped out. He had, in fact, followed Mrs. Brett and the Professor up from the station. He saw Rosamund, andrecognized her as the girl he had seen some hours before walking alonealong the high-road. He went up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. 

"Are you one of the young ladies who live here?"

"Yes, " she replied, glancing at him in surprise, for so lost had shebeen in her own thoughts that she had positively hardly observed himwhen he swiftly passed her in the early morning. 

"Then I congratulate you upon your powers of early rising. "

Rosamund colored. Lucy's eyes were fixed on her face. 

"My dear Miss Lucy, " said the doctor, "your friend, Miss"----

"My name is Rosamund Cunliffe, " said Rosamund. 

"Your friend Miss Cunliffe has put all the rest of you young ladies toshame. She was walking abroad this morning between four and five o'clockat some distance from here. "

Lucy's eyes flashed fire. Rosamund found herself turning pale. TheProfessor looked at her. Suddenly Rosamund went up to the Professor andtook his hand. 

"I want to speak to you, and alone, " she said. 

"In a moment, my dear, " he answered. 

He then turned to the doctor. 

"Mrs. Brett, my kind sister-in-law, has promised to take all my youngpeople to her house in Dartford, " he said. "She proposes that theyshould return with her immediately. Then the house will be quite quietfor the invalid, and there will be no danger of the disease spreading. "

"If it does spread I shall be on the spot to grapple with it, " said Dr. Marshall. --"What an excellent plan, Mrs. Brett, and how exactly likeyou!--Now then, young ladies, the sooner you pack up the better. Youneedn't take a great many things; they can be sent to you afterwards. The great thing is to get away. It may be in the air; it may be--wecannot tell what; but the sooner all of you young people are out ofSunnyside the safer it will be. "

"It would not be fair, " said the Professor, "to ask the Singletons totake any of them in. We did think of that at first. We know howparticularly kind Mr. Singleton is. But there are his own children to bethought of; and as he is the rector of the parish he has also toconsider his parishioners. "

"I am the woman who has to act in this emergency, " said Mrs. Brett; "andnow the sooner we drop the subject of whys and wherefores thebetter. --Run upstairs, my dears, and get ready. --I will not even see mydear sister, Mrs. Merriman, for fear of infection; but you will knowwhere to find me if you want my help. "

"I don't think we shall need it, " said the doctor. "Two excellent nursesare coming by the next train, and I shall leave full directions, and myassistant will come out to see the patient this evening. --Now, if youwill kindly allow me to pass, young ladies, I will go and see theinvalid, and I will not see any of you again afterwards. It is safernot. "

There was a look on his face which startled and brought back some of thenervousness of most of the girls. But Mrs. Brett, or Aunt Susan, as Lucycalled her, was all smiles and benediction. 

"My dears, " she said in her motherly way, "there is room enough and tospare in my house for every one of you--room enough and to spare. Youshall have the heartiest welcome. "

Here Mrs. Brett went up to Rosamund, and, rather to the surprise of theothers, elected her for a resounding kiss on the cheek. 

"My dear, a girl who can go out and take a walk at so early an hour inthe morning is quite after my own heart. "

"But, Aunt Susan, " interrupted Lucy, "do you really approve of a girlwho burns the candle at both ends? It so happens that I was obliged toinvade Rosamund's room last night, and I heard her reciting poetry intwo voices, and then I heard her throw her voice into a distant part ofthe room, so that you might almost imagine that she was a ventriloquist. It was nearly eleven o'clock, and the doctor said he saw her walkingalong the high-road between four and five this morning. Don't you thinkit is too much for her strength?"

"Never mind, dear, " said Mrs. Brett, who was as kind in heart as herface appeared. "I admire energy; but the energy of the young issometimes misdirected. When dear Rosamund comes to stay with me I willshow her one or two things. --You won't mind getting a wrinkle or twofrom an old woman, will you, Rose?"

"No, " said Rosamund, who was absolutely torn in the midst of manyconflicting emotions: her anxiety for her friend, her knowledge of whathad happened the night before, her ever-increasing dislike to Lucy--and, in fact, the whole false position in which she found herself--alldistressed her beyond measure. 

Again she touched the Professor on the arm. 

"I want to say something, " she remarked, and she turned and faced theother girls. --"Before I decide to go with Mrs. Brett I must speak toProfessor Merriman. "

"But there is no time, my dear, " said Mrs. Brett. "Our train leaves inthree-quarters of an hour. Each girl will please pack a small bag, ifshe possesses such a useful commodity, and we must walk as fast as everwe can to the station, for my poor dear husband has no end of things forme to attend to to-day, and the moment we get to Dartford we shall haveto bustle about, I can tell you. There'll be no time for whims andfancies, or even for lessons; for there is to be an enormous tea-fight, as I call it, for the young folk of the parish in the schoolhouse thisafternoon, and games afterwards, and recitations; and if you, Rosamund, can recite as well as Lucy has described, why, you will be invaluable. "

"But I can't recite. Lucy is mistaken, " said Rosamund. --"Professor, mayI speak to you?--Mrs. Brett, if you are in a hurry, I will follow you bya later train, if it is decided that I am to go to you. "

Here the determined girl took the Professor by the arm, and leading himinto the study, shut the door behind them, and turned and faced him. 

"I have been exceedingly naughty. I have broken my word of honor. "

Now, the Professor, who was always extremely dreamy, had nearlyforgotten Rosamund's transgression of the previous Sunday. He did notspeak at all for a minute, but looked at her in puzzled astonishment. 

"You have broken your word of honor?" he said. "We are in great trouble. I hope you are not now beginning to be taken up with whims and fancies. If so, please transfer them to a more convenient season. I am harassedabout my books, my--my dear wife, and that poor girl. By the way, she isyour friend, too. I can quite understand that you are grieved on heraccount. "

"I am terribly grieved. I do not wish to leave. I should like to stayand help to look after her. "

"But that cannot be permitted. That would be an act of the greatestselfishness. What we require you to do is to leave the house before youare infected--you even more than the others, for you have been in thesame room with her. "

"I do not think I am infected. I cannot imagine how Jane caughtdiphtheria. I did see her bending down over a drain the other day. Shehad dropped her pencil and was trying to find it. I told her not to doit, and even dragged her away. I am sure I am all right, and I shouldnot allow her to breathe on me, and I think I could help. "

"It is generous of you, my dear, but it cannot possibly be permitted, "said the Professor. "I will relate that little circumstance to my wife. Not that it matters, after all, how we get our diseases; the thing is tocure them when we have acquired them. However, I will mention thecircumstance to my dear wife. "

"Please do. Now, I have something to confess. You heard what Lucy said:that I was reciting poetry, that I was using two voices, that I was asort of ventriloquist. You heard what Dr. Marshall said: that he saw meon the high-road at a very early hour this morning. Now, I was notreciting last night; I was talking to another girl, and no less a girlthan that one I had promised you to have no communication with for awhole week--Irene Ashleigh. Please hear me out before you speak. I didnot ask her to come to me. She came on her own account. I did mean tokeep my word of honor; but Irene, poor little girl! had taken a likingto me. I had managed, I don't know how, to touch something sympatheticin her heart, and she was hungering for me, and you had forbidden me togo to her. So last night, after I came to bed, she was in my room. Shehad got in by the window. Oh, don't look at me with those startled eyes!I do not wish her to be blamed, and I was not to blame when I found herthere, for I did mean to keep my word of honor. She begged of me to lockthe door, but I refused; and I think I was almost inducing her to leavethe house, and to go home, when Lucy burst into the room. Lucy came tofetch something for Mrs. Merriman--something that Jane wanted--and Irenewas under the bed like a flash. It was she who made that noise that Lucyattributed to me. Then afterwards I felt reckless, and I did lock thedoor, and I did go out by the open window, and I spent the night in thesummer-house with little Irene, and this morning I walked back with herto The Follies. Now you know what I am. You see I am not worth saving;and I want to tell you that if you will not have me here, then I will goto Lady Jane, and tell her the entire story, and ask her if I may staywith her--at least until the time of infection is over. That is what Iwish to do; but I will not go in the dark. I have told you how naughty Ihave been, and you can punish me by expelling me from the school. But, please, quite understand that your daughter has provoked me a greatdeal, and that I did make an effort--at least at first--to keep my wordof honor. "

Rosamund's voice dropped. In truth, the emotions of the previous day, the night before, and this morning had been too many for her. Shetrembled, and finally, to the great astonishment of the Professor, burstinto tears. Now, no one ever had higher principles than ProfessorMerriman, but no man ever had a greater horror of tears. He could notbear what Rosamund had told him; he could not understand how, under anyprovocation, a girl could act as Rosamund had done; and yet, at the sametime, her tears so maddened him that he would have done anything to getrid of her. 

"You bewilder me, " he said. "Of course, you did wrong. Do you wish to gowith Mrs. Brett? I will see you presently and speak to you. "

"If you will not have me here, I will not go with Mrs. Brett. I will goto Lady Jane; for there is one person who wants me, although you willnot believe it!"

"Then please yourself; but I grieve to tell you that after your recentconduct I cannot receive you again at the school. "

Rosamund left the room with a proud step, but there was something in herheart which danced. 

CHAPTER XI. 

BOOBY-TRAPS. 

Lady Jane Ashleigh was sitting at her early breakfast. She alwaysbreakfasted alone in a beautiful little room which her late husband hadspecially furnished for her. It was a room full of memories, for she hadpassionately loved her husband, and had never ceased to mourn his death. If she had been a more cheerful and less self-concentrated woman shemight long ago have won the love of her queer and erratic littledaughter. As it was, during her husband's lifetime she thought of no onebut him, and since his death her best thoughts were devoted to hismemory: to keep flowers always on his grave; to see that his portraitwas dusted day after day, and that flowers were put under it; to kneelthere and utter prayers that he and she might be reunited in a betterworld, absorbed her strongest thoughts. 

Of late, however, Irene's queer conduct had terrified her very much. Toolate she discovered that she had no hold over the child, and the childwas now a source of misery to her. She could not manage Irene. Theservants were afraid of her. No governess would stay long. In short, shewas drifting from bad to worse; and yet it was impossible for Lady Janenot to love the queer, erratic little creature. Often at night, whenIrene was sound asleep, the mother would steal into the room and look atthe pretty face, quite soft then, with all the wildness gone out of it. She used to look down at the long, curling black lashes, on the pale, smooth, rounded cheeks, at the wealth of dark curling hair, and wonderand wonder why the child ever and always turned from her, why she neverreposed confidence in her, why she left her to live apart. If by anychance Lady Jane made a noise while she was in Irene's room and awakenedthat small sprite, then the scene would change. Irene would spring up inbed, dare her mother to invade her slumbers, and frighten her withimmediately vanishing into the night-air and spending the rest of hertime in the boat. 

A short time ago, Irene had insisted on locking her door, and on oneoccasion had managed through utter carelessness to set fire to acurtain. Her own bravery had quenched the flames before any mischief wasdone; but the household had been alarmed, the room forcibly burst open, and the child, whose arm was badly burned, was carried fainting from theroom. After that Lady Jane removed all keys and bolts from the door, andno entreaties on Irene's part could induce her to have them put back. 

On this lovely summer's morning Lady Jane was eating her delicatebreakfast in her usual delicate way. Her thoughts were divided betweenher husband, whom she would never see again in this world, and the childwhom she could not manage. She was also thinking of Rosamund, thedaughter of her dear friend. 

A servant came in with the letter-bag. Lady Jane never had any specialcorrespondence, and she was in no hurry to open it; but having quiteconsumed her breakfast, she thought she might as well do so. Shetherefore languidly took a key from her chatelaine, inserted it into thelock, and took out the contents. She found amongst many other lettersone from her old friend, Rosamund's mother. 

Mrs. Cunliffe wrote to say that she was glad Lady Jane liked Rosamund, and gave her hearty consent to Rosamund's spending a good deal of hertime at Lady Jane's house. 

"I may as well tell you, " continued the mother, "that Rosamund herselfis somewhat difficult to manage. I have always found her so; buthitherto nothing has gone very wrong between us, because I have led herby the golden rule of love. I have never driven her in any respect. Iheard a great deal of the Merrimans, the dear Professor, whose books areso well known, and the charming little school they proposed to open; andwhen I found that the school was in your neighborhood, my dear oldfriend, I decided to send Rosamund there. I am writing now to Professorand Mrs. Merriman to say that I wish Rosamund to spend as much time asever she can spare at your house and in the company of your sweet littlegirl. By the way, you have told me nothing about her. She must be abouttwelve years old now. Rosamund, dear child, is fifteen. I can fancy whata comfort the little Irene must be to her mother, so gentle and sweet, just like what that mother was when I was a somewhat wild and erraticgirl myself. "

"Alas and alack!" thought poor Lady Jane, "how very little my dearfriend knows of the sort of creature whom Providence has bestowed uponme as a child!"

Just at that moment the room door was burst open, and Miss Frost, intears, her nose very red, her agitation extreme, followed by Irene, entered the room. 

"She has poisoned me! She has absolutely poisoned me!" said theunfortunate governess, sinking on the first chair she could find. "Shebrought me my pills as usual this morning--you know I am ordered pillsfor indigestion--and after I had swallowed them she announced that shehad changed them for wood-lice, which curl up as you touch them. "

"It was such fun!" laughed Irene. "Oh, Frosty, Frosty, it wasdelicious!"

"But what a wicked thing for you to do, Irene!" said her mother. 

"They will multiply inside me, " said poor Miss Frost. "Oh, what is to bedone? Can a doctor be summoned at once?"

"I am sure there can be no danger, " said poor Lady Jane; "but it was awicked trick to play, Irene. But I believe wood-lice are harmless, and Isuppose they are dead. Still, Irene, your conduct is disgraceful. Youare really past bearing. "

"All right, mumsy!" said Irene in a most cheerful tone. "I don't mindhow much you scold me, for I had such a happy time while I was watchingFrosty swallowing those digestive pills! She thought me so attentive, because as a rule I don't take any interest in her pills. I found a lotof the dear little wood-lice in the garden this morning, and it suddenlydarted through my mind that they could be swallowed just like pills. SoI put them into a box and rattled them well, and brought them to Frosty, and opened the box and said to her, 'Here, Frosty, here are yourdigestive pills;' and she had swallowed two before she found out whatshe had done. The rest began to uncurl in the box, and she discoveredwhat had happened. Oh, it was lovely to see her face!--You do feel bad, don't you? You'd like to go at once, wouldn't you, darling? I am soawfully anxious for you to go!"

"But if--if, " said poor Miss Frost--"if you really think that thepills--I really can't call them by the other name--will do no harm, itseems almost a"----

"I tell you what I will do, " said Lady Jane. "I will send you straightinto Dartford to see Dr. Marshall. He will tell you what is best to bedone. But I feel sure you are quite safe. --Irene, you are so naughtythat I cannot speak to you. "

Miss Frost, who did not dare to give up her lucrative situation, leftthe room. Lady Jane went to the bell and rang it. A servant was desiredto have the carriage ordered immediately, and the unhappy and perplexedgoverness was soon out of the house on her way to Dartford to see Dr. Marshall or one of his assistants. 

Meanwhile Irene, in the red dress she had worn all night, very muchcrumpled, very much disheveled and soiled, sat down and fixed her brighteyes on her parent. 

"So she is not to go!"

"Was that why you did it, Irene?"

"Of course, " said Irene in a laconic voice, "I'll have to think ofsomething else. She is an extraordinary woman is Frosty. I got rid ofCarter. You know how I got rid of her. "

"You mustn't speak of it--it is too painful. "

"Well, I'll have to get rid of Frosty. "

"Now listen to me, Irene. Your governess is not to go. "

"Mumsy dear, why that tone? You know you are a little bit afraid of yourIrene, aren't you?"

Irene danced up to her parent and looked at her with eyes bright asstars. Suddenly she flung herself on her knees by her mother's side. 

"You didn't by any chance come to see me in my little bed last night?"she asked. "You didn't come perhaps in the early morning? You didn'tquote those well-known lines:

 What does little birdie say In its nest at peep of day?

Mumsy dear, did you?"

"No, Irene; I was occupied with other things--with sad, very sadmemories. This is the anniversary of your dear, your precious father'sdeath. "

Irene had the grace to be silent for a moment. After a pause she said, "I did remember that yesterday morning; and knowing that you'd befrightfully dumpy--oh, mummy! you know you never are cheerful--I thoughtI'd have a spree on my own account. So I tell you what I did, mothery. "

Lady Jane looked with absolute fear into Irene's face. After a time hereyes slowly welled up with tears. 

"I can't imagine what I have done, " she said. "I often wonder beyondwords why I am given such a very naughty child--a child who understandsme so very little, who cannot sympathize with my sorrows and cannotunderstand my griefs, and who contrives to make others miserable. It isyour cruelty that is so terrible, Irene. "

"My cruelty!" said Irene, opening her bright eyes wide. Something seemedto hurt her. It was the first time Lady Jane had ever seen a spark ofreal feeling in this extraordinary child. "Well, now, listen, " she said. "I spent the night with Rosamund--dear Rosamund Cunliffe. "

"You ran away from home and spent the night at the Merrimans'?"

"Oh, you needn't be afraid. I didn't even occupy one of their roomslong, and certainly didn't break bread with them. I wouldn't break breadin the house with that Lucy for all you could give me. Nevertheless, Ispent the night with Rosamund. Oh, she is a splendid creature! She isjolly enough, and she is brave enough. Why, she let me strike her on thecheek as hard as ever I could, and didn't utter a word. I wanted her tolock the door, and she had some queer notions about it that I couldn'tfathom; and when I struck her on her cheek, she only just offered methe other, and said, 'You may do what you like, but I will not lock thedoor. '

"Now, mother, if you'd stand up to me like that I'd just respect you. Anyhow, I respect Rosamund, and I dare say I'd have had to spend thenight in her room, or perhaps even have had to come home, but somethingmost welcome happened. Thank goodness, Rosamund isn't a prig! She'sawfully passionate, and has plenty of strong feelings. She's not a bit agoody-goody; I'd just hate her like anything if she were. But thatLucy--you know that prim thing, the daughter of the Professor and Mrs. Merriman? Well, she came into the room, and I was under the bed in atwinkling. She argued with Rosamund and found fault with her, and gotdear old Rose into a towering passion. Well, after that I could do whatI liked with her. She did lock the door, although she vowed she wouldn'tat first; and we got out through the window, and spent the night in thesummer-house in the plantation. I put my head on her lap, and she puther arms round me and tried to keep me warm; and then I went off tosleep so happily, for somehow or other--I didn't think I could ever loveanybody, but somehow or other there is a sort of feeling in me thatperhaps is love for her. I think I could even be good for her. 

"In the morning she walked with me as far as The Follies, and I havebeen for the last few hours very busy. There'll be a good deal ofexcitement amongst the servants to-day. I did hope that the wood-licewould settle Frosty; but now you have interfered. Why can't you let hergo? She's no manner of use to me. Can't you give her whatever salary shehas now, and send her back to London, or wherever she lives?"

"And let you grow up wild, Irene, with no one to teach you--for you willnot learn from me?"

"Well, mother, I shall never learn anything from Frosty. Oh, what amorning it is! Is that the footman I hear outside? I expect he hasdiscovered. "

Just then James, who had been in the family for the last five or sixyears, came staggering into the room. He had been caught by a booby-trapwhich Irene had placed just over his pantry door, and a shower ofspiders and caterpillars and other offensive insects had fallen all overhim. His face was deadly pale, and he declared that he had been severelystung. 

"There were wasps there, " he said, "and I have been stung in the cheekand on the hand; and, madam, I don't really know what to do. "

"It was a booby-trap. You look beautiful, James!" said Irene. 

James flashed her an angry glance. Poor Lady Jane started to the rescue. What was she to do with this intolerable child?

"There are a lot more traps laid for the other servants, " said Ireneunder her breath. "I didn't want poor old James to be stung by thewasps. They stung me when I was catching them, but I didn't cry out. Inever cry out when I have pain. I wonder which insect stings worst? Iought to have a few handy for the worst of the servants. The only one Idon't want to part with is cook, for cook is so much afraid of me thatshe will give me any unwholesome food I like to ask her for. When dearRose comes we will have a feast. Oh, won't we have fun! I wonder--I dowonder--when she will come?"

Lady Jane left the room, and returned with a blue-bag, which she appliedto James's swollen hand and cheek. The frightened servant said he didnot think he could keep his situation much longer; but Lady Jane beggedof him to be patient. Irene had disappeared. 

"It is the kind of shock, your ladyship, " he said to his mistress. "It'sthat I can't bear. There was I a-walking in as innocent as you pleaseinto my pantry, carrying the hot dishes from your ladyship's breakfast. I just touched a string, and found a shower of the most venomous insectscrawling all over me. I dropped the dish on the spot, and if it hadn'tbeen a silver one it would have been in shivers. And how was she to knowthat it wouldn't be your ladyship's best Sèvres or Crown Derby? How am Ito endure it, my lady?"

"She is a very naughty girl, and I will certainly punish her, " said LadyJane, with a sigh. "But now, James, go about your business. The remediesI have used will soon take the pain out of your stings, and you will beall right again. "

"There's poor Miss Frost, " continued the man; "she has swallowed livingbeasts. It's all over the house, the story of Miss Irene giving her themhorrors instead of her pills. It's the most dreadful thing I ever heardtell of. "

"I don't believe she is really seriously hurt at all. But I will seewhat can be done, " said Lady Jane. 

She sat for a time lost in thought. Irene must be sent away--school mustbe resorted to. She must not any longer be allowed to render The Folliesa home of terror to every individual who lived there. But what schoolwould take such a naughty girl? For an instant Lady Jane thought of theMerrimans. But no, that was worse than useless. Was there any school inany part of the world that would receive such a hopeless character aspoor Irene seemed to be turning into? Lady Jane could not tell. 

CHAPTER XII. 

ROSAMUND TO THE RESCUE. 

Lady Jane was in the midst of her meditations, and a more confused, distracted poor woman it would be difficult to find in the length andbreadth of the land, when suddenly she heard a step in the hall, a frankyoung voice--not Irene's, but bright and young and full of courage--andthe next instant Rosamund Cunliffe entered the room. 

"May I speak to you, Lady Jane?"

James was mournfully removing the remainder of the breakfast. His facewas not improved by the blue-bag, and his expression was that of ahunted animal. The butler, in high dudgeon, had retired to his ownapartment, where he had locked and barred the door in order to preventany pranks of that imp, as he privately styled Irene. The other servantswere tremblingly attending to their duties; but all smelled mischief inthe air. 

Two such awful things did not often occur on the same day as thepossible poisoning of Miss Frost and the terrible usage to whichinnocent James had been subjected. 

"We're none of us safe!" quoth the cook. "It's best to give notice. "

"But then wages is so high, " said the kitchen-maid. "There ain't a placelike it in the country round--plenty of us, and half our time our own. What my mother says to me is, 'You must put up with something, Sukey;and if you hadn't Miss Irene you'd have low wages and 'ard work. ' So Isaid I'd grin and bear it. "

"Well, that's my notion, too, " said the cook. "I say over and over, 'I'll grin and bear it;' and when the child comes to me and asks me sopretty for the most unwholesome food--though nothing, for that matter, seems to disagree with her--why, I haven't the 'eart to refuse. "

"You haven't the courage, you mean, " said James, who entered the kitchenat that moment. "If you had my poor face you'd have something to say. "

"Oh, your poor face!" said the cook in an indignant tone. "It'll be wellafore you're twice married. You take note of that. "

James left the kitchen in a huff to return to his duties in thebreakfast-room. It was there that Rosamund found him when she burst inupon Lady Jane. 

"I have come to see you. Can I have a talk with you where we can bealone?" said the girl. 

Perhaps in all the world no sight could have been so welcome at thatmoment to poor Lady Jane as Rosamund's bright face. The courage in it, the knowledge that Irene respected and, yes, loved this girl, cheeredher inexpressibly. She was not jealous. The fact was, had she beenjealous, had she felt any very deep mother-love for her orphan child, things might have been quite different. But her whole heart was absorbedin memories, and Irene, in consequence, had never given her a truedaughter's affection. But she was terribly perturbed about the naughtychild; and Rosamund looked to her, with her straight carriage, her fineopen face, like a very tower of strength. 

"I am in great trouble, my dear. I am very glad to see you. But how isit that you have got away from school so early?"

"I will tell you all about it. There has been great trouble atSunnyside. Poor Jane Denton, my special friend and room-mate, isdangerously ill with diphtheria. "

"Diphtheria!" said Lady Jane, starting back as she spoke. "But is notthat very infectious?"

"I don't think it really is. I mean, of course, that if any one bentover a person who is ill, that person would be very likely to get it. Anyhow, all the girls have been sent away. Mrs. Brett, Mrs. Merriman'ssister, has taken them to Dartford to stay with her for the present; andtwo trained nurses are coming to look after Jane; and--oh, Lady Jane!perhaps you won't speak to me again, but I am expelled from the school. "

"Expelled from the Merrimans'?" said Lady Jane in a low tone of intensedistress and feeling. 

"It is true. They have expelled me--or at least the Professor has. I amnever going back. Now, I want to know whether I am to go to mother atBrighton, where she is at present, or whether I shall stay with you fora little, and--and help Irene. "

Lady Jane's eyes filled with tears. 

"You must tell me all about it. Why are you expelled?"

"It is all on account of Irene. I must tell you that I took a greatfancy to her. "

"You did? How sweet of you!" said Lady Jane. 

"I know she is very wild and naughty; but there is something lovableabout her, and I think I could manage her. I think she cares for me, soI wanted to be with her; and I asked the Professor, but the Professordid not wish it. You see, Lady Jane, I am sorry to hurt you, but Irenehas got quite a bad name in the place. Most of the people are dreadfullyafraid of her. They don't like her. They say she is always up tomischief. "

"Indeed she is. Miss Frost has just gone to see the doctor because thenaughty child made her swallow some repulsive insects instead of herpills. But--oh, dear!"

"Don't go on, Lady Jane. I think I can guess how exceedingly naughtyIrene is. But, you see, I have taken a great fancy to her in spite ofher naughtiness. Anyhow, on Sunday last I managed to conquer her, whichwas something. "

"Indeed you did. It was most wonderful! Poor Miss Frost and I wereamazed. We could scarcely contain our astonishment as we watched you. "

"Well, now, I must tell you the whole story. The Professor said I was tohave nothing to do with Irene, for if I did he would not allow me tostay with them; and he begged of me to consider how important it was forme to stay at the school selected for me by my parents. So I gave him myword of honor that I wouldn't see Irene or have anything to do with herfor a week. I meant to keep it, of course. "

"Your word of honor!" interrupted Lady Jane. "That was very strong, wasit not? Your letter astonished me, for you did not explain anything. "

"I could not--it was impossible. At least, I felt so at the time, although now I don't much care what happens. Anyhow, I fully intended tokeep my word, although at the end of the week I meant to tell Professorand Mrs. Merriman quite plainly that unless I could see you, who hadbeen mother's dearest friend, and Irene sometimes, I would ask mother toremove me from the school. You see, mother is quite reasonable, and whenI explain things to her she does what she can. I sometimes think that isbecause she was exceedingly naughty herself when she was a little girl. Anyhow, that was how matters stood. But last night, when I went to myroom to go to bed--poor Jane had been removed to a room in another partof the house, as she was so ill--whom should I find in the room butIrene herself, and"----

"She has told me that part. Now I understand, " said Lady Jane. 

"I am glad you understand. But I had rather a fight with her. In the endI lost my temper, but that was owing to Lucy Merriman. Well, thismorning, when it was discovered that Jane--my dear Jane--had suchterribly bad diphtheria, the whole school was scattered on the spot. Kind Mrs. Brett has taken all the girls, with the exception of myself, to Dartford. I insisted on taking the Professor aside and telling himjust what had happened, and how I had broken my word of honor. I said Iwouldn't go to Dartford with Mrs. Brett, and he told me if I went to youI was never to return to the school. So here I am. What do you mean todo with me?"

Lady Jane sat still, looking very pale and troubled. Rosamund, seeingthat no answer could be expected immediately, sank on the nearest chair. She was now deadly tired; her night of absolute want of rest, added tothe excitement which she had lived through, was beginning to tell onher; and, strong as she was, she turned white as death. It was that lookon her face which first roused Lady Jane's attention. 

"How cruel I am, " she said, "and you your mother's child!"

She got up and rang the bell. The much-afflicted James answered thesummons. 

"Get some breakfast immediately for Miss Cunliffe. Tell cook to send inanything nice and appetizing that she possesses. Not a word to MissIrene on the subject whatsoever. "

He withdrew, and in a short time a really appetizing breakfast wasplaced before the nearly famished girl. Breakfast at Sunnyside thatmorning had been a farce, and when Rosamund came down the meal was over. She had, therefore, not tasted food that day until now. The hot coffee, the nice fish-cakes, the delicious bread-and-butter, all had their dueeffect. She owned that she was hungry, and when she had finished, freshcourage and energy came into her voice and manner. 

"Now, what do you want me to do?" she said. "Please tell me. I havegiven up school. I have given up to a certain extent my reputation, forthis will always be brought up against me; and I have come to you tobecome Irene's friend, and to stay with you for the present if you wantme. But until I saw your face it did not occur to me that you mightperhaps be afraid--afraid that I might have the seeds of the samecomplaint within me as poor Jane Denton. Is that so?"

"She is my only child, " said Lady Jane, "and, to tell you the honesttruth, I am afraid. "

Rosamund got up restlessly and walked to the window. She had not lookedfor this complication. 

"I'd have done better to have gone with Mrs. Brett after all, " was herfirst thought. Then she turned to Lady Jane and said in a determinedvoice, "I don't think you ought to fear me, for I'm quite sure there isno danger. Even if there were, Irene would not have contracted thedisease through me, for she lay for some time last night in Jane's bed. "

"Heaven help me!" said Lady Jane. 

She wrung her hands, and then got up and also stood by the window. 

"It strikes me, " she said after a pause, "that God is punishing me morecruelly than He punishes most people, and I cannot understand it. In anycase, whether this means life or death, that child's present behaviorand present prospects are intolerable. You shall come, Rosamund. I willtake the risk. Come to me, and welcome, only let me have thesatisfaction of knowing that your mother approves. "

"Then will you wire to her?" said Rosamund. 

"That would be an excellent plan, " replied Lady Jane. "I will take yourtelegram to the village, for you don't want the servants to see whatyou are saying. Write it out at once, and I will take it. "

"I have not brought any of my things with me, except just what I amwearing, so you will have to provide me until mother sends me a boxfulfrom London. I am sure I am safe, and if--if Irene were to get ill, Ithink I should be able to nurse her better than any one else. "

Lady Jane suddenly went up to the girl and kissed her. 

"You are extraordinary!" she said. "You are brave above the common. Ibelieve God has sent you. Does Irene know you are here?"

"No; I have not told her. "

"Then she needn't know for the present. But where is she?"

"I wish you would write that telegram, Lady Jane. You ought to havemother's consent. I shall not be happy until it has come. "

"At present Irene is supposed to be in the schoolroom. Where she reallyis I do not know, poor Miss Frost being absent. Anyhow, I will take thistelegram myself, and ask you to remain quietly in a bedroom in thishouse until the reply comes from your mother. Just give me thispromise--that you will not see Irene until I have heard from yourmother. "

To this proposition Rosamund was forced to submit. Indeed, she was notsorry at the prospect of a little rest, for she was beginning to feelvery acutely her adventures of the previous night. Lady Jane wrote thetelegram, ordered a carriage to be sent round, and drove into thevillage, a small place, which contained, however, a telegraph office, about a mile and a half away. Before she went she conducted her youngguest to a beautiful bedroom on the first floor, which she said shewould give her not only for a bedroom but also as part sitting-room. Itwas furnished in a style that Rosamund, well off as her parents were, had never seen before. The room was full of quaint and beautiful things, and there was a bookcase of delightful books--Kingsley's, Miss Yonge's, and many other favorite authors. 

"Lie down, dear, " said Lady Jane. "You look very tired. Forget Irene forthe time. I shall be back before long, and will send your lunch up toyou. We will just have your mother's permission, and then we shall feelin a straightforward position. She may, of course, wish you to return atonce to her. "

"I do not think mother will do that. She is not a frightened sort ofperson. Anyhow, you know what I feel about your daughter. "

"I do, and God bless you, my love!"

Lady Jane departed, and Rosamund found herself alone in her great room. She looked around her, uttered a weary sigh, and sank into a chair nearthe window. 

Presently she heard a scuffling noise and cries outside, in the passage. She heard the voice of a maid-servant saying, "Oh, Miss Irene! MissIrene! don't do it; you oughtn't--you oughtn't!" then a scream, and thena girl's hurrying footsteps dying away in the distance. 

"I wish I could fly out and give Irene a good box on the ears, " thoughtRosamund. "I'll soon break her off those horrid tricks. Of course I amgoing to stay here, and of course I am going to reform her, and ofcourse--oh, how strange everything is! I think I'll lock the door. Idon't choose her to come in now until I get mother's consent. Afterwardsall is plain sailing. "

Rosamund got up softly and locked the door, not a minute too soon, forshe had scarcely done so before the handle was turned and the voice ofIrene was heard outside crying through the keyhole, "What changeling isin this room? Which of you housemaids has dared to lock herself in?Come out! I've got a big spider ready, and"----

But Irene's voice died away for some extraordinary reason, and Rosamundfor the time was left in peace. She drew the chair near the window, tookup Kingsley's _Hypatia_ from the shelf, and tried to interest herself ina story which always had the deepest fascination for her. But by-and-bysleep overpowered her young eyes, and she only awakened from it byhearing a very gentle tap at her door. She went to it and called out, "Who is there?"

The gentle voice of Lady Jane answered in response:

"I have brought you some lunch, dear. "

Rosamund immediately unlocked the door, and received a daintily preparedlittle tray, which she took in, Lady Jane following her into the room. 

"As soon as the telegram arrives I will let you know. I am very anxiousthat your time of servitude should be over. That child seems worse thanever. I never knew anything like her manners to-day. Three of theservants have given notice, and even cook was in violent hysterics inthe kitchen, for she found that Irene had put a live toad into thebread-pan. She said she can stand most things, but that toads are beyondbearing. The thing foamed at her in a most terrible manner, and theconsequence is, all the bread had to be thrown away, as no one canpossibly attempt to eat it. Really, Rosamund, you will have your handsfull. "

"I shall not mind that, " said Rosamund. "But has Miss Frost come back?"

"Yes, poor thing! she is lying down. She says she feels that thosedreadful creatures are crawling about inside her. The doctor assures herthat there is nothing to fear, and that they are quite dead; but shewill not believe him. It will be all right when she knows that you arehere. You can do lessons with her, my dear, if your mother consents toyour staying, for she is very highly educated, though she really has nocontrol over Irene. I trust you may be able to do something with her. "

"I will subdue her, " said Rosamund. "There is no fear whatever on thatpoint. Only, don't tell her so, please, for that would put her againstme; and I think at present she has a sort of fancy for me. Do you know, I am quite hungry, and longing to attack those delicious cutlets. "

"Then you shall, dear, and in peace. You had better lock your dooragain, for the girl is as suspicious as she is mischievous, and scentsout any fresh person in the house. She says that she has a strong senseof smell, and knows each person by a sort of delicate perfume whichemanates from them. Really, Rosamund, there are times when I almostdoubt if she is quite human. "

"Oh! she imagines all that, " said Rosamund in a low tone. "I wouldn'tfret if I were you, Lady Jane. Be sure you let me know when mother'stelegram arrives. "

"Yes, dear; I will bring it up here and read it to you. It will probablynot be long now before we get it. "

Lady Jane left the room, and Rosamund rebolted the door. Then she satdown to enjoy her lunch. She had just eaten a mouthful of the cutletwhen she was aroused by a whoop--that familiar whoop which Irene hadgiven vent to under poor Jane Denton's bed the previous night. Rosamundturned round, and there was Irene's face pressed against thewindow-pane. She had run up a ladder which she had forced one of thegardeners to bring to the window, and was looking in. Her face was allwreathed in smiles. She beckoned to Rosamund, who refused, however, topay the slightest attention to her. Fortunately the window was shut, and Rosamund did not suppose that the naughty girl would go to theextreme of breaking the glass. 

She now deliberately turned her back upon Irene, and continued to eather cutlets without taking the least notice of her. In vain did Irenewhoop and call out, and sing and shout, all for Rosamund's benefit. Atlast she said in a threatening tone, loud enough to pierce through theshut window, "I will run down the ladder and fetch a hammer, and come upagain and break the window, and get in that way if you don't let me in. You don't suppose I am going to be conquered in my own house?"

But Rosamund was even with her. In one minute she had gone to thewindow, had flung it wide open, and taken both Irene's hands. 

"Irene, " she said, "you told me you loved me. "

There was something in the tones, something in the absence of fear, which caused Irene to pause; the color faded from her little face, leaving it very white and almost imploring. 

"I do--I do!" she said after a minute's pause. 

"Now, do you know what I have done? I have left Sunnyside and have comeover here, and am just waiting for a telegram from mother giving herconsent to my spending a great portion of my time with you. But if yougo for the hammer and come back and break this window I shall gostraight home to mother, whatever she says. Now, you can choose. Go awaynow, and behave yourself. It doesn't matter to me what you do. Isometimes think you are not worth saving. "

"Oh, no, I am not, " said Irene in a completely new tone. She wentquietly down the ladder. The objectionable ladder itself was removed, and Rosamund continued her lunch in peace. 

Half an hour afterwards the telegram arrived, which was quite cordial inits tone, giving a hearty consent to Rosamund's remaining for thepresent at The Follies; and saying that if all went well Mrs. Cunliffeherself proposed to pay a visit to Lady Jane within the next fortnight. In the meantime, owing to the sad circumstances at Sunnyside, she wouldsend a box of clothes that very day from London for Rosamund's use. 

"Now I will go and find Irene, " said Rosamund. "You must have perfectconfidence in me, Lady Jane, and if I do things that you do not quiteapprove of, you must nevertheless be satisfied that I am dealing withIrene as I think best. Oh, dear Lady Jane, how tired you look, and howsad!"

"This is a very sad day for me, " said Lady Jane. "It is the anniversaryof my most beloved husband's death. I cannot but feel it; but that childhas no mercy. I am going now to visit his grave, in order to put a crossof beautiful flowers there. Any other girl would accompany her mother onsuch an errand, but of course Irene will not. "

Rosamund did not reply for a minute; then she said gently:

"Perhaps she will come with you next year, dear Lady Jane. You cannotreform a nature like hers in a moment. "

Lady Jane kissed Rosamund and left the room; and Rosamund, beingperfectly free to do exactly what she pleased, and being also refreshedand strengthened by her sleep and her good food, went in search ofIrene. 

She soon found her swinging in her favorite attitude in one of thebeech-trees. The moment the girl saw her, she sprang to the ground, ranto her side, flung her arms round her neck so tightly as almost tothrottle her, and kissed her over and over again. 

"Your face looks as if you meant to stay. "

"I do mean to stay just as long as you are good. "

"Then, gracious me!" said Irene, "that won't be for long; because theutmost I can be good for is five minutes at a time. You see, I never wasgood at all--I never attempted to be--so it didn't enter into mycalculations, and now to suddenly turn into a model of all the virtuesis more than I can do even for your sake. "

"I do not expect impossibilities. I only want you to try. "

"Well, you are not so precious good yourself. "

"I'm not at all good. We'll try to be good together. "

"It will be fun our both trying, " said Irene, looking at her with acomical expression. "How are we to begin? Shall we do penance like theold monks? Do you know, Rosamund"--here Irene linked her thin, almoststeel-like little hand inside Rosamund's arm--"that I am a mostvoracious reader? Father was a great collector of books, and when I amtired of frightening the servants, and terrifying Frosty, and annoyingmother, I spend days at a time in his library swallowing down thecontents of his books. There is no other word for it. So I know odds andends of all sorts of things. "

"You must know things properly henceforth. But what was that you saidabout penance?"

"Do you want us to do penance for our sins? The monks were very fond ofstanding out in the cold in their night-shirts. Do you want us both todo that to-night? It will terrify mother, and the servants will think weare a pair of ghosts. I should rather enjoy that. "

"I don't want anything silly of that sort. Come along now, Irene. Thevery first thing you have got to do is to beg Miss Frost's pardon. "

"I beg Frosty's pardon! But she is in bed. She says they are running upand down inside her. "

"You know you were exceedingly cruel. It was a very low sort of trickto play. I can understand a girl being wild and doing all sorts ofthings that perhaps she ought not to do, and even neglecting herlessons; but to terrify a poor, harmless governess! And you haveterrified more than one. You'll have to drop that sort of thing now, Irene. "

"It strikes me you are a poor sort after all, " said Irene, gazing atRosamund attentively. 

"Well, whether I am poor or not, I'm going to stay with you for a bit, and if you get any better I'll stay on; but if you get no better I shallgo straight home to mother, for you will be hopeless. There now, youknow. "

"Oh, it is so delightful to have you! You don't know what you are to me. The courageous way you speak! I don't believe you'd be a bit afraid if Iput a frog on your neck. "

By almost sleight-of-hand Irene suited the deed to the word, for a coldfrog of enormous size suddenly began to crawl along Rosamund's neck. Rosamund suppressed a shudder, for she would not for the world show thegirl that she loathed frogs; but she took the creature and laid itgently on the ground. 

"That is very silly, " she said. "You are not to do it again. "

"I am not to do it again?"

"No; not to me or to any one else. "

"I thought I'd put a small toad just inside the teapot for James when hewas going to make the tea this afternoon, for it would jump up andfinish that affair of the wasps and spiders that occurred this morning. "

"You are not to do it. It is ridiculous; there's neither sense nor funnor anything else in it. It is downright, positive cruelty. You makeyour mother's life wretched, and you make the servants miserable. As topoor Miss Frost--oh, you can go to see her or not, just as you please. Iam going into her room now. "

"Are you indeed? But why should you take any interest in Frosty?"

"Because you are so unkind to her, and I want her to know that I atleast am going to be her friend. "

"Oh, dear, dear Rosamund, I do so earnestly want her to go! She doesn'tsuit me a bit. Can't you teach me instead? I'd learn from you. "

"I don't know enough. I want to be taught myself. Miss Frost needn'tteach you unless you like, but she shall teach me. I can't give up allmy education even for you. Perhaps you understand that. "

"I do--I do; but I am sure you know a great deal more than is good foryou. "

"Don't be silly, Irene. Now, I am going to see Miss Frost. You ought tocome with me to beg her pardon; but perhaps when she is well enough tobe up you will do so. "

"You won't be long with her, will you?"

"If you will promise to beg her pardon at tea-time I won't stay long. "

"I will, for I want us to go out in the boat, and I want to show you mypony, and to try to get you to ride him. I don't believe you will beable to conquer him. He'll stand no one but me. His name is Billy Boy, and I have made him as wild and vicious as ever I could; but he is likea lamb with me. "

"Then you propose that he should throw me, and perhaps kill me? Thankyou very much, Irene. "

"Oh, I don't propose that really; only, you see, one must have larks. One couldn't live without them. I don't think there is anything quite solarky as frightening people. "

"Now, once for all, Irene, if that is your idea of life, I will writeat once to mother and tell her I am coming home. "

"No, you won't. I won't let you. I love you. I will try to be a littlebit good just to please you. I will say something to Frosty at tea-time. Oh! don't ask me any more. "

Irene's queer eyes filled suddenly with tears. Rosamund saw that she wastouched. 

"Run away and do what you like. I don't want to be long with Miss Frost;but I am going to her now. "

Rosamund entered the house. She was met in the hall by James. 

"I am so sorry, James, " she said, taking the initiative at once, "thatyou were so frightened this morning by Miss Irene. She is a friend ofmine, and I have made up my mind to come and stay here for the present. Will you please tell the other servants, and remember yourself, that Ishall do my utmost to prevent the sort of things occurring which havemade you all so uncomfortable? I think you will soon see that Miss Irenehas as kind a heart as any other girl. "

"I'm sure, miss, " said James, almost whimpering, "the trouble I've hadalready, and the anxiety and worry, not to speak of the pain, miss. Themwasps, their sting is very sharp, and even my lady's blue-bag did notremove them at once. And then the show I am, miss, in this respectablehouse! But that is nothing to what poor cook felt when the toad poisonedthe bread. And there was Mary Ann, the second housemaid; Miss Irenecaught her and put two spiders down her back. Mary Ann has such a horrorof spiders as never was! Then, worst of all, there's poor Miss Frost, such a patient lady, and she has swallowed insects instead of pills. It's too awful to contemplate. "

"It is very bad, but it won't happen again--at least I don't think so, "said Rosamund. "Now, I want to see Miss Frost. Can you direct me to herroom?"

James took upon himself to perform this office, and in a few minutes'time Rosamund was knocking at the door of Miss Frost's room. A veryfeeble, timid, suffering voice said:

"Who is there?" Then the voice continued, "If it is you, Irene, the dooris bolted, and the blinds are down, and the shutters shut, so even ifyou break the glass you cannot get in. "

"It is not Irene. It is I, Rosamund Cunliffe. I want most particularlyto see you, Miss Frost. "

Whereupon Miss Frost was heard getting out of bed and coming towards thedoor. She was a very cadaverous-looking person, about forty years ofage, thin to emaciation, with small, light, frightened-looking eyes, along upper lip, and a great many freckles on her face. Her hair was thinand dark, and was strained back from a lofty forehead. The momentRosamund saw her she took her hand. 

"Please don't keep the door locked, " she said. "And please unbar theshutters and draw up the blinds, for it is a lovely summer's day, andIrene won't do you any harm. I want to talk to you. May I?"

"I don't believe, my dear young friend, " said Miss Frost, "that I amlong for this world. I feel those dreadful things even now creeping upand down. The doctor says they are dead; but how can he look inside me?I know they are alive. I know they are. "

"I don't think they could be alive, " said Rosamund. "I heard of thattrick being played on some one once before, and nothing whateverhappened, and I can assure you the person is quite well, and when thefright was got over the whole thing was forgotten. "

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. "

"Oh, I have lived through such a morning of agony!"

"You must forget your agony now. "

"But how am I to endure that child?"

"Will you lie down again on your bed and let me talk to you for a minuteor two?"

As Rosamund spoke she took the cold hand of the governess, led her tothe bed, made her lie down, and covered her up. Then she drew a chairforward, and, still retaining her hand, she began to speak. 

"I know quite well all that you would say about Irene; but please don'tsay it. I have come here contrary to rules, and at some trouble tomyself, but also with my mother's approval, to be Irene's friend andguest for a time. You are all very much afraid of her. Yes, you are, from Lady Jane to the lowest servant in the place, and it is because youare afraid of her that she is so exceedingly naughty. Now, it so happensthat I am not a scrap afraid of her, therefore I have some influenceover her, and I know positively that she will not play any of her horridtricks upon you again. For the moment she does so I shall leave her, andshe doesn't wish me to do that. Therefore you needn't be at all afraid. What has happened gave you a nasty turn; but there, that's the end ofit! You will get up, won't you, and come down to tea? I think perhapsIrene will be a little nicer to you. And to-morrow, or the next day, orwhenever we are to begin, I want to know if you will teach me as well asIrene. I also want us to know other girls, and to have a good time allround. For Irene is only a young savage at present; but she has a warmheart, and I do believe that I can touch it. "

"My dear, " said Miss Frost when Rosamund had done speaking, "may I askhow old you are?"

"I am fifteen. "

"Then you are three years older than the terrible Irene. "

"Three years older, and I hope three years wiser. "

"A thousand years wiser, my dear--quite a thousand years wiser. Youdon't know what I have suffered; and I am not the only one. Her oneobject in life when each new governess comes is to get rid of thatgoverness. But I have a little brother and sister both dependent on mealtogether for their daily bread, and Lady Jane gives me one hundred andfifty pounds a year, a very large sum for a governess who is notcertificated. I simply daren't give it up. I try to, for I often feelthat I must. Even the children do not seem worth the agonies I undergo. But then again I struggled on until now. "

"You will have no more struggling, and if you teach me as well as IreneI know mother will pay you something, so your people will be better offthan ever, " said Rosamund in her cheerful voice. "Now cheer up. You havenothing to fear. Try to be courageous, and when you speak to theservants, get them to be courageous too. You have all let Irene get theupper hand of you, and it is exceedingly bad for her. Now, I promised tojoin her; but you will be with us at tea-time, won't you?"

"I will. You have put great heart into me. What a wonderful girl youare! When I saw you on Sunday I thought how remarkable you were, and nowthat you have spoken I see it more than ever. "

"Perhaps you know what has happened at Sunnyside?"

"What is that, dear?"

"My own special friend, Jane Denton, is dangerously ill with diphtheria. I do not know if she will ever be better. "

"Then is there any fear?" said Miss Frost. 

"You mean of your taking it?"

"Oh, no, I don't mind for myself a scrap. I am not afraid of illness, and I had diphtheria when I was young, and people don't often have ittwice; but it is that child--that queer child. "

"I cannot give it to her, " said Rosamund. "If she takes it she must havecontracted the infection herself, owing to----But there, I won't say anymore. Let us hope for the best. I must go to her now, however. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

IN ANOTHER DRESS. 

When Rosamund went out, feeling both flushed and tired, she saw Irenewaiting for her. She wore her favorite red dress, which was exceedinglyshabby and by no means becoming. Rosamund felt just like St. George whenhe was about to slay the dragon. Irene at the present moment was thedragon. That dreadful part of her which was such a nuisance to herneighbors must be kept under by a firm hand. One person at least musthave complete control of her. 

"There you are!" said Irene, dancing up to her friend. "Oh, it is niceto see you, and how sweet you look! Do you know, I never noticedpeople's looks before. I always said to myself, 'They are all exactlyalike--a pair of eyes, a nose, a mouth, a chin of sorts, eyebrowsindifferent or not, hair dark or fair. ' Oh, they're all alike--at leastthat is what I did think. Now I see you, there seems a difference. "

"I hope I haven't got three eyes or two noses, or anything of that sort, to make you single me out for special observation. "

"Oh, it isn't your features a bit--it's your way. You are different, andI like you. "

"Do you know, Irene, " said Rosamund very slowly and emphatically, andtaking the little girl's thin hand as she spoke, "that you are the mostwonderfully beautiful girl I have ever seen?"

"Am I?" said Irene, and a new light sparkled in her eyes. "People havealways spoken of me as a horror, a terror, a nuisance, the wildest andmost awful creature on earth. But if I am so pretty"----

"You could be lovely, " said Rosamund. "I must say that red dress israther trying, but your face is exquisite. Now, what do you say to goinginto the house and going quietly up to your own room? I will come withyou and help you to choose another frock, which I think will make youlook more beautiful than ever. Just let me dress you as I like foronce. "

"I trust it won't be tight, or too long, " said Irene. 

"I am sure you have abundance of frocks. "

"I don't know. I dare say I have. I believe there is a wardrobe full;but I prefer my red dress because it annoys mother. When one is wornout, I ask for another made just on the same pattern, and just becausethey all hate it so. "

"But you will change it for me. Come at once, Irene. "

Rosamund took her friend's hand and led her upstairs to her room. Now, Irene's bedroom was not at all an attractive place to go into. In itselfit was an exceedingly large and airy apartment, and the furniture wasexcellent. But the small bed was drawn up close to the window, and wasmore cot than bed, having iron bars all round it. Near the bed wereseveral jars and basins containing toads and frogs and newts and watercreatures of all sorts. Besides these, there was a box of caterpillars, most of which had escaped, and on the mantelpiece Irene proudly pointedto a bottle of leeches. 

"I bought them, for a pound that I had given to me, from a chemist; andwhen any of the servants are quite determined to stick in the place Ilet the leeches loose, and that generally sends the housemaids away. Iwouldn't part with my darling leeches for all the world. Do you see howthey are dancing now? That means rain. When they lie quite sullen at thebottom of the glass, then I know we are going to have fine weather. That one on the stalk--do you see how he is wriggling, poor sweetpet?--that one I call Fuzz, and this one at the bottom of the glass isBuzz. Then there are their children, Thunder and Lightning, and thelittle Stars. The Stars are the tiny ones. I manage them myself. I lovethem better than any of my pets. Would you like me to take them out?You'll see how they crawl about on the floor; only they get ratherdusty. Do you mind?"

"Not in the very least, " said Rosamund. 

"Well, you have spunk! You know, if you annoy me in any way, I shouldthink nothing of putting either Fuzz or Buzz into your bed. "

"Then I should leave the next day, that's all, " replied Rosamund in acalm voice. "I shouldn't be afraid; but I should simply go. If you wantme to be your friend you must not play tricks of that sort. But weneedn't talk any more about leeches now. They seem happy and well. Letme see what dresses you have. "

Rosamund herself opened the wardrobe and took out a quantity ofbeautiful dresses of all sorts and descriptions, mostly white washingsilks and muslins and cambrics. She chose a neat white cambric, andinsisted on Irene putting it on. She fastened it on the little girlherself, and saw that it fitted her perfectly. She then brushed her hairand made her wash her hands, which this wild tomboy strongly objectedto. But Rosamund was firm. 

"I hope you're not always going to be like this, " said Irene, stampingher foot. 

"Oh, dear, no! because soon you will do it for its own sake. Now, here'sa long mirror; come and see yourself in the glass. Can't you fancy whatyou are like?"

But Irene started away. 

"No, no, no!" she said. "There's a pool at the bottom of the garden, andthere are water-lilies all around it. We'll go, both of us, and look atourselves there; that will be much prettier. "

"As you please. I am quite indifferent; only I want you to respectyourself, Irene. "

"Respect myself? But then, no one else does. "

"Well, I intend to respect you, and I can only do it by your respectingyourself. Come along; let us look at ourselves in the pool. I amconsidered fairly good-looking--I don't pretend to deny it; but I amnothing to you to-day, for you gave me a very tiring night. "

"So I did, you poor dear! This white dress is rather nice, but Iwouldn't wear it for mother for all the world; I only wear it now. Nowthen, come along. "

The two raced downstairs; the servants peeped out from different cornersin astonishment. Miss Irene, who would make such a show of herself, wasabsolutely pretty in her shady hat of softest white, and her white dressto match, and that face, which, notwithstanding all her naughtiness, wasand must ever be beautiful above ordinary faces. 

By-and-by the girls reached the pool. They both fell on their knees, andRosamund desired Irene to gaze at her reflection. 

"Here are some forget-me-nots, " said Rosamund. "I am going to make awreath to put round your hair. Take your hat off. "

She made a little wreath in a few minutes, and twined them throughIrene's curling locks. 

"Now look again. What do you see?"

"Why, she is somebody rather--I mean she is beautiful, very beautiful, "said Irene in a low voice. "But she is not me. "

"She is you. Look again. Don't you see that soft little mouth, and thatnose, so beautifully formed, and those bright, bright eyes, and thathair, and the whole thing? It was God who made you, Irene, and He madeyou beautiful, and beautiful people have a great gift. "

Irene ceased to look at herself. She flung off the forget-me-not wreathand turned to Rosamund. 

"Now, what do you mean by all this lecturing?" she said. 

"Beautiful people have a great responsibility, " continued Rosamund in astout voice. "They are sent into the world to make it better. As far asI can make out, up to the present time you have done nothing whateverbut make the world worse. You have never, so far as I can tell, beenkind to your mother. You have made the servants most unhappy. You havedone your utmost to render your governesses' position impossible. "

"Because I hate them, and don't want to learn. "

"Not want to learn, " said Rosamund, "with that forehead so full, sointelligent? Why, you could learn in a flash. You could get knowledgewith the utmost ease, and you would love it when once you began. If I amto be your friend you have got to turn over a new leaf. There, I havesaid enough about yourself for the present. Just let us walk about untiltea-time. "

"No; I want to go in the boat. "

"We won't go in the boat till after tea. I want to talk to you. "

"I wonder why I am obeying you?" said Irene, slipping her hand insideRosamund's. 

"Because I mean you to. "

"I wonder why I'm not hating you?"

"Because if you did I should leave you. "

"I couldn't let you go. It seems to me the whole world is differentsince I got you. But do tell me, you are not very good yourself?"

"I am not at all so good. Ask the people at Sunnyside what they think ofme. There is my dearest friend lying at death's door--that is not myfault, of course; but when I can smile at all when I remember her, youmust see for yourself that there is a great deal that is very far fromgood in me. But there, now, I want to talk about Miss Frost. "

"Now, why?" said Irene. "That horror! That dreadful stick-in-the-mud!Oh, she is detestable! I cannot tell you how I loathe her. "

"You do, because you don't understand her. "

"And pray do you?"

"I understand her more than you do; and in any case I could not be cruelto her. "

"But she is so old, and so ugly. "

"I thought you didn't mind about people's appearance. You said so aminute ago. "

"Well, I didn't; but it seems to me that you have opened my eyes. If Iam so beautiful I ought to be with beautiful people, like you, Rosamund;for, now I come to look at you, you are very beautiful. "

"It is by no means necessary that you should be with beautiful people;but you should give pleasure to people who are not beautiful, becausethey would like to look at you, and hear your voice, and be refreshed byyour kind actions. "

"Good gracious me! Kind actions!" said Irene. 

"In future I believe they will be kind. Now, please understand you havebeen exceedingly cruel to Miss Frost. "

"I want her to go. "

"She is not going. "

"How do you know? I did think those wood-lice would finish her. Ithought and thought, and the happy idea came to me this morning. I wasquite certain she'd give notice, just as Carter did. They could take heron at the Merrimans'. It seems to me that my governesses always find aberth near, so as to spread the fame of my dreadful character. "

"Well, she is not going. She can't go. She has a little brother andsister, and she has got to provide for them. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"She has got to feed and clothe them, and to put them to school, and doeverything for them. If she left your mother's house she would have nomoney, and might find it difficult to get another post. So she is notgoing. I asked her to stay, and she is going to teach me as well asyou. "

"Dear me!"

"Yes; and we are going to make it exceedingly interesting. I mean you tolearn a lot. I assure you, if I come here and give up the next fewmonths of my life to you, I don't mean to do nothing in the time. I wantto work hard, and you will have to work hard too. I am not bound to staywith you for a single hour. The moment your pranks begin, the moment Ihear of any more toads being put into the bread-pan, or wasps andcaterpillars descending on poor James's head, or spiders put down thehousemaids' backs, or leeches being allowed to run about your bedroom, Ishall just go off. If you want me you must refrain from that sort ofthing. "

"But won't I have any outlet?"

"Indeed you will have plenty. "

"Of what sort?"

"You will see. But there is the tea-bell; let us go in. "

Irene looked wonderfully thoughtful, for her. She walked slowly byRosamund's side into the house. Still slowly, and with that thoughtfulexpression on her face; she passed along the hall until she reached thepretty parlor where tea was always served. Here Lady Jane herself waswaiting in a state of nervous expectancy, and here was Miss Frost, verypale, shaky, and troubled, declaring stoutly to Lady Jane that "they"were running about inside her still. 

When the girls entered there was a moment of silence, then a start ofsurprise, for Irene in white, and wearing her pretty shady hat, looked atotally different Irene from the untidy little creature who usuallyrushed about in her red frock at all hours and seasons. Rosamund gaveLady Jane a warning glance to take no notice of Irene, who flungherself, very much in her old manner, into a chair exactly opposite MissFrost. 

Of course she was going to be good. At least she supposed she must. Itwas horrid work, she so infinitely preferred being naughty; but thenthere was Rosamund, and Rosamund wished it, and she--oh, she did notreally think she loved Rosamund, but she had a strange sort of longingto be with her, and Rosamund was free as air, and could go at anymoment. Therefore, to keep Rosamund, she must be good. But that needn'tprevent her staring hard at Miss Frost, which she proceeded to do withgreat alacrity. 

Meanwhile Lady Jane poured out tea, and talked in her lady-like andrefined tones to Rosamund, who replied in exactly the same style. 

"Are they alive still?" asked Irene when there was a slight pause in theconversation; and she fixed her dancing eyes full on her governess'sface. 

"Oh, Irene, it was unkind!" began Miss Frost; but Rosamund hastilyinterrupted. 

"Irene, you know what I mean. That subject is not to be alluded to. MissFrost, I beg of you not to speak of it before Irene, and do forgoodness' sake eat a good meal. Forgive me, Lady Jane, but I want us allto have a very good tea; and as it is such a lovely, lovely day, may wego for a little picnic afterwards, and take our supper with us into thewoods? Will you come too, and Miss Frost? It would be so delightful!"

Lady Jane's plan had been to leave Irene entirely to herself. She was tohave so many hours' lessons in the day, which generally resulted in notworking at all, and the rest of her time she spent either in her boat orhatching mischief to annoy some inmate of the house. But now the idea ofa picnic, with supper out-of-doors, on this most glorious summer's day, was altogether new. 

"We might have the governess-cart, mightn't we, mothery?" said Irene, turning her eyes away from Miss Frost, and gazing at her mother withgreat anxiety and interest. 

"Certainly, dear, but I"----

"Oh, you must come too, " said Rosamund. 

She knew very well that Lady Jane would say that she could not go out onthe anniversary of her husband's death; but she felt at the same timethat it was necessary for Irene's reform that both her mother andgoverness should accompany her. 

"I want us all to go, " she said. "I have got a plan in my head. You willlet us, won't you?--Irene, you and I will choose what supper we willtake, after tea is over. And now, will you kindly pass me theplum-jam--yes, and the butter too?"

What a masterful young person Rosamund Cunliffe was, and how Irene beganto lean upon her! She no longer troubled herself even to glance at MissFrost, who in consequence began to get back her courage and to make agood tea. "The creatures, " as she termed them, were certainly lesslively, and on the whole she felt better and more disposed to believethe doctor. 

As soon as tea was over Rosamund took Irene out of the room, and theywent together to the cook. 

"Now, the very first thing you are to say to cook is this, " saidRosamund: "'Cook, I am exceedingly sorry I put a toad into yourbread-pan, and I am not going to do it again. I want you to give me thevery nicest supper you can possibly collect at short notice. ' You mustput on your very prettiest manner when you speak to cook. Will you, Irene?"

"It will be horrid work, for she isn't a lady, you know. "

"She is far more a lady than you were when you put the toad into thebread-pan. "

"You are sharp, aren't you?" said Irene. 

"Because you need it. I won't be sharp with you soon, for I know you aregoing to be a model girl, and the most beautiful creature in the wholecountry. You don't know how nice it will feel after being naughty for solong. "

"I wonder if it will?" said Irene, beginning to dance along byRosamund's side. 

The necessary apology was made to the cook, who received it with dubioussurprise, the other servants standing near; but when they saw Ireneglancing in their direction they darted off in more or less pretendedterror. Cook, however, was mollified by Rosamund's sweet face, and anexcellent supper was packed in a hamper. 

The governess-cart was brought round to the front door, and Lady Jane, to her own amazement and much against her will, took the reins and droveas far as Parson's Dale, a most lovely spot four miles away. Miss Frostfelt the soft evening air fanning her cheeks and taking some of thenervousness out of her. Irene sat thoughtful, and looking exquisitelypretty. Rosamund chatted on all sorts of subjects. In short, such a dayhad never before been known to the younger girl. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

SCHOOL AT THE FOLLIES. 

Jane Denton had a hard fight for her life. For days she hovered betweenthis world and the next. Two or three doctors came to see her. She hadtwo trained nurses; bulletins were put up at the door; no one wasallowed to come in. The girls who were staying with Mrs. Brett werestrictly forbidden to have any communication with the infected house;Rosamund and Irene were equally forbidden to go near Sunnyside. 

But at last there came a day when there was a decided improvement. Thediphtheria was gone, and the young patient began slowly to pass fromdanger to convalescence. Then a load seemed to be lifted from everyone's breast; and Rosamund really turned, as she expressed it, toconsider her future life. During the time of waiting she had a certaininfluence over Irene; not, perhaps, so much as on the first day, whenthat young lady, charmed, bewildered, and amazed by Rosamund's firmness, had followed her lead unflinchingly. Rosamund now had to considerherself. She wrote, therefore, a long letter to her mother. 

"I could not do so, " she thought, "while Jane lay between life anddeath, when there was a strong chance of the school at Sunnyside notexisting any more. But now I must write to dear mother and tell her thetruth. "

Accordingly, the following letter reached Mrs. Cunliffe on a certainmorning early in July:

 "MY DARLING MOTHER, --You know all about Jane, of course, and that she is now better--in fact, quite out of danger. In a short time they will take her away, probably to some seaside place, the house will be disinfected, and the girls will come back to their work. Miss Archer, the English governess, will be as strict and as unsympathetic as ever, and Mademoiselle Omont will teach excellent French, no doubt. 

 "Now, mother darling, you may have heard, or you may not have heard, that I am in disgrace at Sunnyside. I could not give up Irene, and in consequence the Professor says that I am not to return to the school. He means by that that I am to be in a sense expelled. I felt his words very acutely when he uttered them, for I didn't wish to do anything contrary to your desires; but I felt that I could not give up Irene. I was the first person who had any influence over her, and she was running wild and becoming a torment to her neighbors. I don't know what she would have come to in the end. So I elected, mother darling, to go straight to Lady Jane's instead of to Mrs. Brett, when dear Jane was so ill. Now I am established here at The Follies, and I am not allowed to go back to Sunnyside. Doubtless you know that, and perhaps you are angry with your own Rosamund. But I asked your leave to stay, and you gave it, although you did not know all the circumstances. Will you, dear mother, write to Professor Merriman and ask him to tell you exactly why he wishes to expel me? He will probably give you a very sorry story; but you must believe it or not as you please. I think you know your Rosamund better than he does. I am not going back to Sunnyside, for they would not accept me; but, at the same time, I do not feel at all a disgraced girl; and I should like the Merrimans to be friends with me, and I should still like sometimes to see Jane and Laura Everett, and some of the other girls--not Lucy Merriman, for she is not in the least to my taste; but even she does not greatly matter now that I am no longer living in the house with her. The fact is, dear mother, I could not have been a good girl had I stayed long in the house with Lucy, for she managed in some extraordinary manner to rub me the wrong way. She was so extra good, so punctilious, and so proper; she didn't suit me one bit, and I didn't suit her one little bit either. I was becoming quite a naughty girl. I never was too good--was I, mother dear? Perhaps, darling, I'd have become an awfully naughty Rosamund had it not been for Irene--poor little wild Irene; but she was really and truly much naughtier than I ever thought of being, and her example shocked me and pulled me up, and I resolved to try to be good for her sake. 

 "But I do like Professor Merriman, although I know he does not like me; and I believe they are very poor. So I wish you would find another pupil in my place--some ordinary kind of girl, who would pay about the same sum; or perhaps, mother, as you are so very well off, you might pay the money for her. What do you say to that? It is just a notion of mine. There is my cousin Anice: you know how her mother frets because she is not well educated. Well, she would be well educated at the Merrimans', for the two governesses, as well as the masters who come for occasional lessons, are first-rate. Now, just think that over, only don't let my name appear in the matter. 

 "Well, dearest, that's all about the Merrimans for the present. I am staying with Irene; but she knows that if she plays any very serious pranks I go. Meanwhile you must not suppose that I am letting my lessons alone. I am working very hard with Miss Frost. She is a dear creature when you get to know her, and she is very fond of me. I told you about those dreadful insects that that wicked child made her swallow. Well, she is all right again now, and isn't a bit afraid of them, and she believes the doctor, and is perfectly happy. As to Irene, nothing would induce her to do anything of the kind to Miss Frost now, for she would get it hot from me if she did. I should like to stay with Irene for the next few months at any rate, and if you want me to get on very fast indeed with my music, and to take up my drawing systematically, some of the masters who attend at the Merrimans' could come on here, couldn't they? I think that could be arranged. Dear Lady Jane is so fond of me, and I really think I am doing a little bit of good in the world, so you won't be angry even if the Professor writes you a horrid letter about your own

 "ROSAMUND. "

When this letter was despatched Rosamund felt quite light and happy, andshe went out into the garden to talk to Miss Frost. Miss Frost lookedalready quite six or seven years younger than she had done on the day ofRosamund's arrival. She was no longer in terror of her life. Rosamundsuggested to her that she should lock her door at nights, which the poorlady did very willingly. She told her there was not the slightest dangerof anything happening, as nothing would induce Irene to give her anymore frights. 

"But if you are nervous, do lock your door, " she said; "and if youreally want pills for your indigestion, I will keep them for you, andsee they are not meddled with. "

Miss Frost had attended to all Rosamund's directions, for this masterfulyoung woman was really ruling the entire house. The servants, too, seemed very much brighter and better. Lady Jane was heard to laughconstantly, and was even induced to play some old-fashioned music on theold piano in the drawing-room. 

As to Irene, she wore white dresses and blue dresses and pink dresses, and was not once seen in the obnoxious red. 

"That dress you can put on the day I leave The Follies, " Rosamund hadsaid to her young friend. "No, I am not going to hide it or put it away. It can hang in your wardrobe; but you are not to wear it while I amhere, for I dislike it. I want you to be pretty and beautiful, and aninfluence for good, as God meant you to be. "

Now, all these things told upon Irene; but most of all was she amazedand lifted out of herself when both Miss Frost and Rosamund discoveredthat she had as quick and clever a mind as she had a beautiful face. Itis true she hardly knew anything. She could read and write, and had reada great many books; but all the ordinary subjects of education had beenset aside by the willful child. 

Rosamund now suggested that they should both compete for a small prize. She chose a subject which she herself knew nothing about, therefore shesaid they were very nearly equal. They both did compete, and perhapsRosamund did not exactly put forth her full powers; but, anyhow, in theend Irene won, and her delight was beyond bounds. She rushed down to hermother's boudoir and showed her the beautifully bound volume ofKingsley's _Water Babies_ which was the prize she had won. 

"I have got it through merit, " she said. "Think of my getting anythingthrough merit!"

Lady Jane very nearly cried, but she restrained herself, for Rosamundfollowed; whose face, with its slightly flushed cheeks and its eyes fullof light and happiness, showed Lady Jane what a splendid character heryoung friend possessed. How could she ever thank God enough for havingsent such a girl to her house?

Yes, lessons went on well, and Irene especially made great progress inher musical studies. She had always been fond of music as a littlechild. In her wildest moods, when Lady Jane had played for her she hadbecome quiet, and crept close to her mother, laid her charming littlehead against her mother's knee, and listened with wide-open eyes. As shegrew a little older she began to practice for herself, inventing her ownmelodies--nonsense, of course, but still with a certain promise in them. 

Now Rosamund suggested that Irene should give up music with Miss Frost, for Miss Frost's style was by no means encouraging, and should take herlessons from the first-rate master who came twice a week from Dartford. It was amazing how quickly Irene made progress under this tuition. Inthe first place, Mr. Fortescue would not hear of any nonsense. He didnot mind Irene's airs or her little attempts to subdue him; he simplydesired her to do things, and when she failed he pounded her soundly onher knuckles. 

"That is not the way to bring out that note, " he would say; and then hewould sit down to the piano himself, and ring out great melodies in themost splendid style, until the enthusiastic child almost danced withpleasure. 

"Oh, is there any chance of my playing like that?" she once exclaimed. 

"Every chance, and a great deal better, if you really take to it withall your heart and soul, " was his response. 

Rosamund was also intensely fond of music, and the girls were happy overtheir musical studies; in short, Irene, from having an aimless life, inwhich she did nothing but torment others, was now leading a full andhappy existence. She had her distinct hours for work and distinct hoursfor play. She had a companion who delighted her; and toads, wasps, spiders, and even leeches lost their charm. 

One day, to Rosamund's great delight, Irene suggested that Fuzz and Buzzand all their children should go back to the nearest chemist. This wasno sooner thought of than done. Certainly it was a very great step inIrene's reform; but it must not be supposed that such a character couldbecome good all of a sudden. It takes a lifetime, and perhaps more thana lifetime, to make any of us really good, and Irene was not by nature avery amiable child. She had been terribly spoiled, it is true, and butfor Rosamund might have been an annoyance and a torment to every one aslong as she lived. But she had splendid points in her character, andthese were coming slowly to the fore. 

Still, there were times when she was exceedingly naughty. Rosamund, having written to her mother, and so set her mind completely at rest, thought no longer of the sort of disgrace in which she was living asregarded the Merrimans. She was now anxious that Irene should makefriends. 

"There is no use whatever, " she said, "in shutting a girl like Irene upwith me. She ought to know the Singletons. I will ask Lady Jane if wemay drive over some day and see them. Why shouldn't we go to-day? Irenehas been quite good this morning. I dare say I could manage it. Shewon't like meeting Miss Carter; but she must get over that feeling. There's nothing for it but for her to live like ordinary girls. If sherefuses, I shall beg of Lady Jane to take us both from The Follies, totake a house somewhere else for at least six months, and to let us makenew friends. But that does seem ridiculous, when The Follies is such alovely place, and Irene's real home. Of course, I can't always stay withher, although I mean to stay for the present. "

Rosamund ran up to Lady Jane, who was pacing up and down on the terrace. Irene, as usual, was in her boat. She was floating idly about the lake. The day was intensely hot. She wore a graceful white frock and herpretty white shady hat; her little white hand was dabbling in the water, and her graceful little figure was looking almost like a nymph of thestream. 

Lady Jane turned with a beaming face to Rosamund. 

"What is it now, my dear?" she said. 

"Well, of course, you have heard the good news. Everything is all rightat the Merrimans', neither Irene nor I have taken the infection, none ofthe other girls have taken it, Jane is getting well again, and I havewritten a full account of everything to mother. "

"That doesn't mean, my darling Rosamund, that you are going to leave us?I really couldn't consent to part with you. I can never, never expressall that you have been to me, " said poor Lady Jane, her eyes fillingwith tears. 

"Well, I can only part from you by going back to mother, for they won'treceive me any more at the Merrimans'. "

"But why not, Rosamund?"

"Because I have taken up with Irene. But we needn't go into that now. What I want to know is, may Irene and I have the governess-cart, and mayMiss Frost go with us, and may we drive over to the Singletons'?"

"Of course you may, Rosamund. But I am afraid it will be you and MissFrost alone, for nothing would induce Irene to set foot inside thatplace. She has always refused, notwithstanding every effort of our dearclergyman to invite her to visit them. I have asked the children here, for they are nice children; but they are too much afraid of her to come. I do not think you will find the visit a success, even if you do induceIrene to accompany you. "

"But I think I shall, " said Rosamund calmly. "You know, " she added, "Irene is not what she was. "

"Indeed she is not. She is very different. I am beginning at last toenjoy my life and to appreciate her society. How beautiful she is, andhow you have brought out her beauty!"

"Her beauty was given her by God, " said Rosamund. "But, of course, nowthat she is learning, and becoming intelligent, and thinking goodthoughts instead of bad thoughts, all these things must be reflected onher face. I want her to have other friends besides me, for I cannotalways be with her, and I cannot tell you what a splendid girl I thinkMaud Singleton is. "

"But then there is poor Miss Carter. Irene nearly killed her. "

"Miss Carter is quite well and happy at the Singletons', and they justadore her, and Irene ought to apologize to her. I mean to make her whenI get the chance. Perhaps not to-day. Anyhow, may we go?"

"You certainly may, and I wish you all success. "

Rosamund danced away, and ran down the winding path to the edge of thelake. 

"Irene, I want you to come in, " she said. "I want to speak to you. "

Irene rowed lazily back to the shore. She still sat in her boat andlooked up at Rosamund. 

"Will you get in?" she said. "There is a little breeze on the water;there is none on the land. What are you looking so solemn about?"

"I am not solemn at all. I want us to have fun this afternoon. It israther dull here, just two girls all by themselves. I don't think that Ican stay with you much longer unless you allow me to have otherfriends. "

"Good gracious!" said Irene. "Perhaps I'd better get out. You look sovery solemn. "

"No, I'm not solemn exactly; but I want to have other friends. Will youget out, and may I talk to you?"

Irene jumped with alacrity out of the boat, and Rosamund helped her tomoor it. 

"Now, what is it?" said Irene. 

"Well, Irene, it is just this: I want to go and see the Singletons thisafternoon, and your mother says we may have the governess-cart, and ifthey ask us to stay to tea we may stay. "

"We? What do you mean by 'we'?"

Irene backed away, her face crimson, her eyes dancing with all their oldmalignancy. 

"I mean, " said Rosamund, "you and I and Miss Frost. "

"You mean that I am to go to the house where Carter is--Carter, whom Inearly killed?"

"I want you to come with me. Won't you, darling?"

"I wish you wouldn't speak in that coaxing voice. People don't speak insuch a tender way to me. But no, I can't go. I really can't. I'd beafraid. I can't meet Carter. "

"But if you come with me you needn't say much. We'll go together, andyou'll find it quite pleasant. I do want to talk to other girls, for youknow I've given up all my friends for you, or practically given them upfor your sake. "

"I wish you wouldn't throw in my face all that you have done for mysake. You had better go, and let me get back to my wild ways. I hadgreat fun with my toads and frogs and spiders and leeches, and havingeverybody looking at me with scared faces. On the whole, I had much morefun than I have now. I was thinking about that as I was floating in theboat, and the thought of Frost came over me, and I wondered what shewould do if I took her into a current in the middle of the lake andfrightened her as I frightened Carter. Perhaps even the thought of herlittle brother and sister wouldn't keep her here any longer. Well, Iwas thinking those thoughts; but then I thought of you, and somehow orother I felt it worth while to be good just for the sake of yourpresence; and in many ways you have made my life more interesting. Butif you want me to be friends with those Leaves; if you want me to seethat dreadful, that terrible Carter again; and then if you want me to goto the Merrimans', and shake hands with that Lucy, and be agreeable toall those people, I really can't. "

"Very well, Irene, you can please yourself. "

Rosamund turned on her heel and walked away. Irene stood and watchedher. She stood perfectly still for a minute, her face changing color, her lips working, her eyes flashing. Then she took up a great sod of wetgrass and flung it after Rosamund, making a deep stain on her prettymuslin dress. Rosamund did not take the slightest notice. She walkedcalmly back to the house, went up to her own room, and sat there quitestill. Irene got back into the boat. 

"I do wish Frost was somewhere near, " she thought to herself. "I won'tgo and see those Leaves; nothing will induce me to. Horrid, affectedcreatures! And then to see Carter's frightened eyes looking at me!Haven't I seen them in my dreams until I am sick of the sight of them?And Rosamund wants me to go and see them again! Why, Carter, poor thing!would nearly die of fright, and every one of the Leaves would get intotheir native trees and disappear from view! Oh, Rosamund is all verywell, but she isn't worth that! I wish I hadn't given those leeches backto the chemist. He wasn't a bit grateful, either, and I spent a wholepound on them. I can be just as obnoxious as ever. I know more than Idid, and that will help me to be even more wicked than I used to be. Ican clear the entire house now of every single servant, and I will, too, if Rosamund goes. "

If Rosamund goes! Rosamund with the bright, resolute eyes, the cheerful, fearless face, the kind, soothing hand, and gentle manner; Rosamund, whowas not in any way goody-goody, and yet had exercised such a softeninginfluence on wild Irene!

"She will go. Of course she will go. She always keeps her word, " thoughtthe child, and tears filled her bright eyes. 

She ceased to paddle, bent slightly over the boat, and looked down ather reflection in the water. 

"She says I am beautiful, too. I wish I wasn't beautiful. I don't wantto be anything; only I like pleasing her. If Rosamund goes there'll benothing worth knowing or caring for in Irene. If Rosamund goes!"

The girl suddenly dashed the tears from her eyes. What did the Leavesmatter? Why shouldn't she endure a bad quarter of an hour looking atMiss Carter's terrified eyes? She couldn't live without Rosamund!

Accordingly, she pulled rapidly back to the shore, moored her boat, andrushed helter-skelter up to the house. Her mother met her in the hall. 

"What is the matter, Irene dear?" she said. 

"Nothing, " said Irene. "Don't keep me. I want to speak to Rosamund. "

Like a whirlwind, the wild little girl dashed through the house, up thewinding stairs, down the corridor, until she burst into Rosamund's room. There she flung herself on the ground at her friend's feet, twined herarms round her waist, laid her head on her knee, and burst into tears. 

"I will do anything you wish, for I can't live without you!" sobbedIrene. 

CHAPTER XV. 

A DRIVE TO THE RECTORY. 

Rosamund was wonderfully wise for her years. She did not make a greatfuss over Irene's tears. She did not soothe or pet her overmuch; shemerely said, "I am glad you have come to your senses, " and then she gotup and began to prepare for lunch; so that Irene, feeling like a beatenchild, and yet with a sense of happiness which she had never experiencedbefore in the whole course of her life, went off to her own room, smoothed out her tangled hair, tidied her dress, and came down to lunchalso, looking quite like a little ordinary Christian child--the sort ofchild who might have been first to a kindergarten and then at a goodschool--not the wild, obnoxious, terrible little creature whom everyservant and every governess alike dreaded. 

James was looking fat and strong, because for the last fortnight Irenehad not taken the slightest notice of him. The other servants werebecoming happy once more. They all worshiped Rosamund; and, truth totell, Rosamund could not but enjoy her meed of popularity. Still, to-dayshe was feeling rather nervous. Nevertheless, she was quite determinedto carry out her scheme. 

As soon as lunch was over, therefore, she went up to Miss Frost. Irenehad danced away into the garden. She was the sort of girl who, havingonce made up her mind to do a thing, did it thoroughly. Now, she hatedthe Leaves beyond measure; she dreaded Miss Carter beyond measure; butshe dreaded Rosamund still more. Accordingly, she secured a basket anda pair of scissors, and cut and cut from the choicest flowers until herbasket was full. One of the gardeners came out and began to remonstratewith Irene on picking so many roses with buds attached to them; butIrene told him in a very tart voice to mind his own business, and insome fear the man withdrew. Then she went into the fruit-house andsecured the earliest peaches which were coming into their finest bloom. And having collected what she considered her peace-offering, she satdown on a little wooden bench to wait for Rosamund and her governess. 

Meanwhile Rosamund was having a talk with Miss Frost. 

"Do you know where we are going to-day?" she asked. 

"No, " replied Miss Frost. 

"Well, you have got to do exactly what I wish. I am most anxious thatIrene should have other friends besides me. "

"Oh, she will never, never under any circumstances have a friend in thevery least like you, " said Miss Frost. "You have made her! You havesaved her! You are her idol! I am sure we all love you most dearly; butas to Irene, it is wonderful the influence you have over her. "

"We needn't talk of that now, " said Rosamund. "I can't give up every onein the whole world for Irene. Besides, although I shall always be agreat friend of hers, I do not think it would be good for her to have mealways by her side. I want her to make fresh friends, and I have beenconsidering that in the whole neighborhood there are no people quite sonice as the Singletons for her to know. "

"The Singletons! Why, it is there that unfortunate Miss Carter is--thatpoor woman who nearly lost her life in order that Irene might get ridof her. Oh, how often have I heard that terrible story! I have seen thegirl in church. They look nice, but very stand-off and distant. You knowIrene will never go to church. We cannot make her; but I go when I canin the evenings, and I always see the Singletons there with Miss Carter. But for my own little brother Hughie and my little sister Agnes, I wouldnever have stayed here as I have done. "

"But now it is all right, dear Miss Frost. Anyhow, Irene has consentedto come with me to see the Singletons this afternoon, so don't make afuss; and if you see Miss Carter, will you tell her that Irene is somuch changed that you are able to stay? And, please, don't say anythingagainst her, will you, dear Frosty?"

"I say a word against her? No, that I won't. "

"And don't say too much about me. I want her to get all the credit shecan. The fact is, she has become so exceedingly naughty because peopletalk so much of her naughtiness, and she is rather proud of it. Now, Iwant her to be thoroughly ashamed of it; and when that takes place, andshe loses all sense of satisfaction in terrifying people to death and ingetting rid of servants and governesses, she will become an ordinarygirl--or rather, I should say, never an ordinary girl, but a girl verymuch above the ordinary. You know you must help me. "

"I will, on one condition, " said Miss Frost. "This expedition frightensme very much. I will do anything you wish on one condition. "

"And what is that?"

"That you don't leave The Follies at present. "

"I have no intention of leaving it before the holidays. The holidayswill take place at the end of July, and then mother will be sure to wantme to join her; but still we have a few weeks left, and there is alreadya great improvement in Irene. Now, please, go upstairs and get ready, for the governess-cart will be round in a few minutes. "

The cart did come round, and, without a word, Irene herself stepped intoit. She not only stepped into it, but she took the reins with adetermined hand. 

"I mean to drive Bob, " she said. "I suppose no one objects. "

She looked back with her bright, dancing eyes, first at Rosamund andthen at Miss Frost. 

"Certainly; he is your pony, " said Rosamund. "You have every right todrive him. "

Miss Frost did not speak. They both entered the governess-cart, andIrene, making a cracking noise with the whip, as she had learned fromone of the grooms, started off at a break-neck speed down the somewhatsteep avenue. Poor Miss Frost felt inclined to cry out, but Rosamundtook one of her hands and pressed it. 

After a minute Rosamund's hand was lightly laid on Irene's arm. 

"Irene, pull Bob in; he is going much too fast for safety. You don'twant his knees to be broken, and we don't want to be tossed out of thecart. Do what I wish you to do instantly. "

Irene's eyes wore for a moment almost a wicked expression; then theysoftened. She put on a check with some vigor, and soon Bob was trottingalong the country roads like an ordinary pony. 

Many people looked at the three as they saw them in the cart. Never inthe entire memory of man had Irene been seen driving with any of herfamily. There were times when she had gone herself to the stables, hadharnessed Bob, who was a very wild and spirited little pony, and haddriven off at a furious rate all by herself. She had then left thebeaten track, and gone on the moors, bringing home the pony and cartmuch dilapidated from the exercise. But, strange to say, the wild childherself never seemed to come to any grief. 

A mad desire to go right away from the Leaves, to dash on to the moors, and defy Rosamund and Miss Frost, had just for a moment taken possessionof her. But again gentler thoughts had come to her, and by-and-by shefound herself driving in at the gates of the Rectory. 

Now, it so happened that on this very day Mr. Singleton was giving afeast to the poor children of the neighborhood; and when thegoverness-cart, containing Rosamund, Miss Frost, and Irene, arrived onthe premises, there were no less than a hundred children enjoying tea onone of the lawns. In consequence, Maud, Alice, Bertha, Mary, Ivy, andJasmine, and last, but not least, Miss Carter herself, were all busilyengaged, when the sound of wheels caused them to raise their heads. MissCarter gave utterance to one piercing scream, laid the cup which she hadbeen filling from a huge urn hastily on the table, and disappeared fromview. Maud, in some astonishment, her face rather pale, but her eyesbright and resolute as usual, came forward to greet her visitors. 

"How do you do?" she said to Rosamund. Then she looked at Irene, whomshe had never spoken to before. 

"This is my great friend Irene Ashleigh, " said Rosamund; "and this isher governess, Miss Frost. We have come to pay you a visit. I see youare busy. That is quite delightful. May we help you?"

"Of course you may, if you will. "

Maud held out a gracious hand to Irene, whose little mouth, satiricalenough at first, broke now into a gentle smile, while her eyes becametranquil and even happy. She had enjoyed a moment of exquisite blisswhen she saw Miss Carter, after that first terrified glance, hurry intothe house. 

"I can stand the Leaves, " she said to herself, "but I hope Carter willkeep out of the way. "

They all three got out of the cart. A groom came to take the pony to thestables, and the girls and Miss Frost were invited to help theSingletons to entertain their guests. 

"We are ever so short of hands, " said Maud, "and your coming is quite ablessing. You know, of course, that no one from Sunnyside can come nearthe place. Mrs. Brett won't allow the girls even to come over fromDartford, which father says is a pity; but still, one must err on thesafe side. Isn't it jolly, Jane being quite out of danger? She is to goaway at the end of the week, and next week the house will bedisinfected, and then everything will be as it was before. "

As she spoke she glanced at Irene, who dropped a little behind, keepinghold of Miss Frost's hand. 

"Frosty, " she said, "can you bear a little pain?"

"I suppose so, dear, " said poor Miss Frost in a timid voice. 

"I mean this: I must have some outlet for my feelings, and if a Leafcomes too near me I will just squeeze your hand. I won't really hurt youif I can help it, but if I can squeeze your hand I'll be civil to theLeaf; if not, I'll be awfully rude. Do you understand, and will youendure it?"

"I will try to, " said Miss Frost; "but I have got very thin hands, Irene. "

"Indeed you have, exceedingly bony and exceedingly ugly; but that can'tbe helped. Just let me hold this hand for the present. "

"Do you mind, " said Miss Frost after a moment's pause--"do you mind if Itake off the rings I have on this hand and put them on the hand you arenot going to squeeze? If you were to squeeze it with the rings on Imight be forced to cry out, and then all would be up. "

"You may do that, and then I'll be quite comfortable. "

Miss Frost did so, and Maud and Rosamund walked on a little in front. 

"I can't tell you how astonished I am, " said Maud, dropping her voice, "to see her here. We heard of your extraordinary behavior--I mean yournoble behavior, for father said you were most noble; but to think ofyour bringing her here! How did you induce her to come?"

"She will one day be a splendid girl, one of the best in the world, "said Rosamund; "and the fact is, I wanted your help. I can't quitemanage her alone. I want your help, dear. Will you give it?"

Maud's frank blue eyes looked into Rosamund's dark ones, and over Maud'sface there came a softened gleam. 

"When I look at you I can believe almost anything, " she said. "But tothink of that girl ever being what you say! Did she not nearly kill ourCartery dear?"

"I know that; but remember she is very young, and could not realize whatshe was doing. However, I ask you to trust me, and to help me now withthe task I have undertaken. I mean to reform her, and to give her backto her mother, not, as she considers herself, a changeling, but abeautiful, strong, and splendid character, the sort of woman God meanther to be. "

"Then I think you are very noble, " said Maud, "and I will help you all Ican; but you must not expect poor Cartery to appear too. That is morethan can be endured. She has rushed into the house, and is probably inhysterics. Yes, I am sure she is, for Bertha has disappeared too, andBertha is her devoted slave. "

"Never mind about Miss Carter now. Let us attend to our duties. I willmanage Irene. Shall she and I take a table and help to give thesechildren as much food as they want?"

This plan worked fairly well for a short time, until it was graduallywhispered that the person who was helping them to slices of cake andbunches of bread-and-butter was no less than that dreaded creature MissIrene Ashleigh of The Follies. Then the boys and girls shrank away, forhad they not heard of her pranks, and might they not expect toads andfrogs to come out of their mouths, and other horrors to happen if MissIrene had anything to do with them? They therefore began to declineIrene's cake, and to say, "No, thank you, miss, " in a very timid voicewhen delicious-looking pieces of bread-and-butter and jam were offeredto them. On the other hand, when Rosamund offered any food it wasgratefully accepted. 

Rosamund felt the situation was growing critical. She by no means wantedan exhibition of Irene's wrath. The girl was really making a very greateffort to control herself, and must not be tried too far. Accordingly, when one little girl refused a slice of bread-and-jam from Irene, andeagerly held out her hand to take it from Rosamund, Rosamund motionedIrene back again. 

"That bread-and-jam is much nicer than this, " she said. "If you don'ttake that you won't get any other;" and she insisted on the child takinga slice from the plate which Irene offered. 

The little girl turned crimson. She put the bread-and-jam upon herplate, but evidently did not intend to eat it. Irene's face was changingcolor from moment to moment. She liked Maud; Alice, Mary, Ivy, andJasmine were as nothing to her. Bertha was nowhere to be seen, and wherewas "Cartery dear"? That one glimpse she had caught of the terrifiedwoman, who had disappeared like a flash into the house, had whettedIrene's desire to behold her again. Accordingly, when Rosamund's backwas turned she slipped away toward the house. In a moment she was in thehouse, and in another moment she had climbed the stairs. Compared to TheFollies, the Rectory was small, although it was really quite a largehouse. It did not take long for Irene to peep into each empty bedroom, until at last she found one occupied. It was occupied by a woman who wasbeing devotedly attended to by Bertha Singleton. Bertha was bathing herhead with aromatic vinegar, and soothing her with loving words. But thenext moment the poor woman uttered a cry, for Irene herself was in theroom. 

"Oh, do go away! Don't, I beseech of you, do anything to me. Do goaway!" cried the terrified woman. 

Instead of going away, Irene marched straight to the bed. 

"Look here, Miss Carter, " she said; "you have been exceedingly silly inrunning away from me as you have done. As to me, I was a perfect fiendthat time at The Follies. I wanted to get rid of you, and I could thinkof no other way. But now that Rosamund is here I see things from adifferent point of view. Will you trust me?"

"I don't know, " said poor Miss Carter, looking at Irene with thoseabsolutely terrified eyes which the girl detested. Perhaps she wouldhave given up her efforts to make friends with Miss Carter had she notat that moment glanced out of the window and seen Rosamund resolutelydoing her duty, and looking unlike any one else--even Maud, who wassweet enough to attract any one's attention. 

"I am going to confess the simple truth, " said Irene; and she came backand stood at the foot of the bed. "I have been a very wicked, bad girl. I used to think that I wasn't to blame, because I was a changeling; butRosamund says I am not a changeling, and that I am just like anybodyelse, and ought to be good. I don't expect I'll ever be specially good;but anyhow, I want to be good. At least I sometimes want to be good. Ionce hated you all"--here she turned to Bertha. "I used to think you soaffected, and I used to call you the Leaves. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not in the least, " said Bertha; "it doesn't matter to us. But whyshould you call us Leaves?"

"Because you wear green. You have a green sash on now, and a greenribbon round your hat. "

"Mother was fond of green, and mother is dead, " said Bertha. 

A kind of dewy moisture came to her eyes which did not amount to tears. 

"Well, if that is the reason, _pax_!" said Irene. 

Suddenly she held out her hand. Now, naughty as she was, there was noone who could be quite so charming as Irene when she chose; and the nextminute, Bertha had not only shaken that hand, but had drawn Ireneforward and kissed her on her lips. 

"You are so very beautiful, " she said. "I never saw you before. If youwere good you'd be delightful. You'd be such a help to us all. We wantsome one lovely just to look at. Oh! wouldn't it be sweet, Cartery dear, to try and make pictures of her little face?"

"That will do. I hate people to praise me, " said Irene. "I am not at allgood at present; and if I am beautiful, why, there's an end of it. WhatI want to say now is this: Miss Carter, will you forgive me?"

"I--I'll try to. "

"Are you still very much afraid of me?"

"I confess that I am. "

"It's rather silly of you, isn't it? For you are quite protected fromme. "

"I know that; but you gave me a great shock. "

"Dear Cartery, " said Bertha, "she did, to be sure; but she is changed, and you never told us she was so beautiful. "

"You don't think much of a beautiful face, my dear, when you are beingdashed to pieces on the rocks, " said Miss Carter. 

"Oh yes! oh yes! but still, she is never going to do anything of thatsort again. Are you, Irene dear?"

"I haven't any present intention of doing so, Bertha dear, " repliedIrene in a deliberate tone. "Now, Miss Carter, I want to know if youwill forgive me. It will help me to be good if you will forgive me. Willyou?"

"Then I will, " said Miss Carter. 

"Then there is only one way to prove it. You must get right up off yourbed and come downstairs with me, and let me rest on your arm, and comeout with me on to the lawn, where all the children are having their tea, and you and I between us are to offer them bread-and-jam and cakes andbiscuits. Will you or will you not?"

"Of course you will, Cartery dear. "

"Are you certain that you mean what you say?" said Miss Carter. "I havegot a sort of headache. "

"Oh no, you haven't, " retorted Bertha. "You are always imagining things, Cartery dear. "

"Will you come or will you not, Miss Carter?" said Irene. "Is it to bepeace or is it to be war? I offer peace now. Do you accept it?"

"I do, " said Miss Carter; and she got off her bed, and went downstairsby Irene's side. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

AT HOME WITH "THE LEAVES. "

Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the school children, the Leavesthemselves, and even of Rosamund, when they witnessed this sight. Rosamund's first impulse was to fly up to Irene, kiss her passionately, and assure her that she was a darling, and that nothing would induce herever to forsake her. But on second thoughts she decided that it was bestto take no notice. Accordingly, the children pursued their games, fornow tea was almost a thing of the past, and Irene found herself enjoyinglife as she had not yet enjoyed it. Never was any one more daring seen. She was the centre of attraction. From being dreaded, she was adored. Who but she could climb to the very highest branch of the tallest tree?Who but she could swing so high that she seemed almost to turn asomersault in the air before she came down again? Who but she couldinvent the most daring games? And then, when all other things failed, who but she could tell such weird stories? Her eyes shone; her lips werewreathed in smiles. She looked the very essence of beauty and happiness. Was this the ogre of The Follies, the terrible girl who kept every oneaway from the place, whom the servants dreaded, whom the governessesfled from?

Both Miss Carter and Miss Frost, standing side by side, watched theyoung heroine of the hour as she won her way to popularity. What was thematter? What was wrong? Or, rather, who had put wrong right?

Rosamund, who was herself a very gay, resolute, determined girl, keptmore or less in the background on this occasion. She wanted Irene, asshe said afterward, to win her spurs. The two governesses stood togetherand talked. 

"Of all the wonderful things I have ever seen, the behavior of IreneAshleigh beats them, " said Miss Carter, turning to Miss Frost. "How doyou account for it?" she added. 

"How do I account for it?" replied Miss Frost. "I account for it becausea blessed angel came to the house in the shape of Rosamund Cunliffe, themost splendid girl I have ever met. She came, and showed not a scrap offear, even though that child--that terrible child--took her into themiddle of the stream, just where she took you, you poor thing!"

"Don't speak of it. Don't mention it, " began poor Miss Carter, tremblingall over. 

"Well, she took Rosamund there, and Rosamund was strong and got theupper hand with her at once, and from that hour Irene has beendifferent. It is true she has done terrible things. She behaved almostas badly to me as she did to you. "

"Shall we walk down this shrubbery?" said Miss Carter. "The children areall quite happy. Every one who comes to the Rectory is happy, and youcan hear by the shouts of the village children that they are in the veryacme of bliss. Shall we walk down here and talk together? I have alwaysbeen so amazed at your remaining on at The Follies, Miss Frost. "

"I have a little sister called Agnes, and a little brother Hugh, andthey are the dearest little children. They are only my step-brother andsister, of course; but they are to me just as though they were my veryown. They depend on me altogether for their maintenance. I buyeverything for them. I spend my holidays with them, and they love me. Mydarlings! They are like my own children. Were I to give up so good asituation my little ones would starve. You understand, Miss Carter, doyou not, that under such circumstances one would endure a great deal?"

"But even under such circumstances, " said Miss Carter, in astonishment, "I do not think people would put up with Irene Ashleigh as she used tobe. Oh, never, never shall I forget how the boat dashed against therocks! I thought my last moment had come. "

"How did you escape drowning, dear?" said Miss Frost. "I never heardthat part. "

"It is more than I can tell you myself. I suppose I lost consciousness. When I came to myself I was on dry land, and Irene was dragging me backto the house; and then I had a terrible--most terrible--interview withLady Jane. I told her that I would go at once, that nothing would induceme to stay. She was nearly in despair, and, metaphorically speaking, went on her knees to me. But I remembered my promise to that dreadfulchild, and stuck to my word. Go I would. I never saw Lady Jane in atemper before, but she was then. She refused to let me have a carriage. She said Irene's conduct was past bearing, and that I ought to stay ifonly to support her. But I couldn't, for my nerves were frightfullyshattered. I went away as quickly as ever I could that very afternoon, intending to send a porter from the railway station for my luggage. Before I got half-way there I nearly fainted, and the dear, kind rectorfound me on the road. I told him my story, and he brought me home--yes, home, for this is indeed a complete and absolute home to me. I cannottell you how kind they have been. "

"I have lived through _my_ horrors too; but I will not speak about themto-day, " said Miss Frost. "Irene is immensely improved. I believe aslong as Rosamund remains with her she will be a really good girl. Sheis making great efforts. "

"She is; that is the astonishing part of it, " said Miss Carter. "Shecame up to my room--I will confess to you that I was hiding from her, absolutely hiding, and shaking from head to foot, scarcely knowing whatto do--and she came in as bold as brass, and yet with a new sort ofhumility about her, and she said to me, 'Will you forgive me? And if youforgive me, will you come downstairs and let me put my hand inside yourarm?' And somehow, although it was the very last thing on earth that Iwanted to do, I did it; and now here I am, and I don't feel nearly somuch afraid of her as I used. "

"It is all owing to Rosamund, " said Miss Frost again. "She is the mostwonderful girl I have ever met. I know one of her objects now is thatyou and I, Irene, herself, and the Singletons should be friends. Shemeans Irene to invite you all over to The Follies to-morrow or the nextday, and I hope you will have the courage to come. "

"Indeed I don't know how I can. It is one thing to have Irene here; itis another thing to look at that terrible lake and reflect that the boatis at hand. Oh, of course, she will excuse me. "

"But I don't think she will. If you come I will look after you, and wewill both firmly refuse to go in the boat. It wouldn't hold us all, sothere is no fear of that. "

"But she is very ingenious. There is no end to her resources. "

"At present her mood is different. You and I, who are so much older, ought to try to encourage her; for, after all, she has been a most sadlymismanaged child, allowed even from her earliest days to see that peoplewere afraid of her, and thus the spirit of cruelty gained a stronghold; but there is a great deal of good in her nature. "

Miss Carter was called loudly by Maud, who requested her to help thelittle ones to play Puss-in-the-corner. The group broke up intodifferent detachments, and by-and-by the time came when Rosamundwhispered to Irene that it was necessary to order the governess-cart sothat they might go home. 

"But I am so happy, " said Irene, who had been helping some of the littlegirls to climb up and tumble down cocks of hay, and otherwise disportthemselves. "I didn't know other children could be so nice; but I findpoor children are much nicer than rich ones. They have no manners, whichI detest, and just say what they think. They have been telling me somehome-truths, and I have been laughing like anything. I didn't know I wassuch an ogre; but it is great fun to hear it from the lips of thechildren. "

"We must go home; it is time, " said Rosamund. "But before we go, Irene, will you kindly ask the Singletons to come to see us on Thursday? Theymight come to lunch, and spend the time until after tea. Thus we shouldhave a long afternoon. "

"But if they must come, why not to-morrow?" said Irene. "I didn't knowthat other children could be so charming. "

"They can't come to-morrow. We have our music lessons with Mr. Fortescueto-morrow. "

"Can't we put him off?"

"Of course we can't. His time is all engaged. Ask them for Thursday, or, if you prefer it, for Saturday. Anyhow, will you ask them?"

"Oh yes, I'll ask them, and for Thursday. "

Irene's flushed face, her speaking eyes, her lips apart in smiles, looked such a different creature from the somewhat pale, queerly dressedlittle inmate of the woods, that Mr. Singleton, who came out at thatmoment, did not know her. 

"Who is this little lady?" he said, going straight up to her and holdingout his hand. 

"I am the ogre, " was Irene's instant response. 

This answer amazed Mr. Singleton, but he kept looking at her andsmiling. 

"I am sure, my dear, that is not your name. You look more like an angelthan an ogre. "

"But I am the ogre--the ogre of the whole place. I am Irene Ashleigh. "

The clergyman's astonishment was seen now on his face. Rosamund hastenedto interpose. 

"Irene is my friend, " she said, "and I think she is going to turn into avery fine sort of woman, if not into an angel. Anyhow, here she is, andI hope you bid her welcome. "

"I do most heartily, " said Mr. Singleton. "You must come and see usoften. I am very glad you have broken the ice at last. What good news, "he continued, turning to Rosamund, "this is about your young friend! Itis such a relief to the Merrimans that she is getting on so well. "

"And a great relief to me, " said Rosamund. 

Irene moved away to talk to three little red-haired girls, who made acharming group, standing under an oak-tree. She soon had them in fits oflaughter; and Mr. Singleton, just glancing at her, spoke again toRosamund. 

"What a miracle you have performed!" he said. "She is a changedcreature. But I suppose there is a great deal of the old Adam in herstill. "

"Yes; but she will change still more. The fact is, she was so terriblynaughty because people used to be afraid of her. "

"And you are not?"

"I certainly am not. "

"My dear, there is something I want to say to you. Do you know that Ihave had a conversation with Professor Merriman, and he gave me a veryqueer account of your conduct? He seemed greatly distressed at the wayyou have behaved. "

Rosamund shrugged her shoulders. 

"The Merrimans did not suit me, " she said. "Life at The Follies doessuit me. At the Merrimans' I was growing to be a very naughty girlmyself. I could not stand Lucy, although I liked the Professor; and Iliked Laura Everett and one or two of the other girls. But at TheFollies, you see for yourself, rector, I have done no harm. "

"Harm! Indeed, you have done most blessed good. I never could havebelieved in such a change in any one. Why, that child is quite lovely. "

"And by-and-by she will have a lovely mind, " said Rosamund. "But, Mr. Singleton, it is only right to tell you that I am practically expelledfrom the Merrimans' school. "

"That is a very grave matter. It ought not to be allowed, " said therector. "The Professor cannot understand. His eyes must be blinded. Youhave done a noble work. "

"But I don't mind; and, besides, I could not go back. "

"But you could if it were just and right, could you not?"

"I don't really think I could. "

Just then the pony-cart came round. The rector said no more for the timebeing; and a few minutes later, the young Singletons and Miss Carterhaving promised to arrive at The Follies on Thursday, Irene, Rosamund, and Miss Frost took their leave. 

"Well, now, wasn't I a darling? Didn't I behave well?" said Irene. "Aren't you pleased with me, Rose--dearest, sweetest, red, red Rose?"

"Yes, on the whole, I am quite pleased with you, " said Rosamund; but sheleaned back in her seat. She felt tired and sad. She had done a goodwork, and she knew it, and yet she had injured her reputation; and hermother would be annoyed, and her father displeased. What was to be done?

There was some one else who was very much troubled on Rosamund's behalf, and that was the Rev. John Singleton. It was not his habit to consultany of his children, not even Maud, whom he relied on almost as he hadrelied on his wife; but he went straight over that very evening to theMerrimans' house; and although he could not go inside for fear ofinfection, he had a conversation with the Professor in the garden. Therehe spoke with such verve and enthusiasm with regard to Rosamund, and themarvelous change she had already wrought in the naughtiest girl in theentire district, that he induced that gentleman to change his mind. 

"If you think it absolutely necessary, I will give her a chance. "

"You must give her a chance. It would be culpable to allow such a girlto enter on the world with such a stigma as being expelled from schoolwould mean. You must give her a chance, sir. I hope you will nothesitate to do so. "

Professor Merriman explained that his pupils would not return for atleast another fortnight, that Jane would be sent away in a little over aweek, that the house would be thoroughly disinfected, and the schoolwould continue. 

"Perhaps it would be best for Rosamund to remain where she is for thepresent, " he said, "and come back to us at the beginning of next term. Iacknowledge that she is a fine girl; very good-looking, too, and with amost taking way. But she must learn obedience. She would not obey whenshe was with us. It was for the sin of disobedience that I dismissedher. She also broke her word of honor. "

"Give her a chance. Believe me, there are circumstances which overcomeall ordinary conditions, " said the good clergyman; and he went awayfeeling assured that Professor Merriman would keep his word. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

NEW RESPONSIBILITIES. 

This was the beginning of July. Towards the end the school would breakup and the holidays would begin. The young Singletons were going to theseaside, and every one was about to have a merry-making of one sort oranother. 

In the past Irene and her mother had lived on in a dull sort of fashionat The Follies. Lady Jane had never the heart to leave home, thereforeIrene knew nothing of the delights of traveling. But as the timeapproached for the holidays Rosamund spoke once or twice of the funwhich ought to be before them. 

"Where would you like to go?" she said to her young friend. "There areever so many places where you can have amusement--you and Lady Jane. "

"You want to tame me down, " said Irene. "I don't think I can bealtogether tamed. There is something in me here"--and she put her handon her breast--"a wild sort of thing that will assert itself now andthen. I can't help myself. I can't, for instance, sit still in adrawing-room, or be a very good little girl in church, finding out thehymns and the lessons for the day, and the right psalms. I could notteach in the Sunday-school--no, I couldn't, for all the world. I coulddo none of those things, because I have a wild living creature thatseems to be inside me. I don't know what it means; I don't understand itmyself. It is rampant when you are not here; but when you are presentit stays quiet mostly, just because I love you. That is the wholereason. "

"Aren't you very much happier since I came to you?" said Rosamund. 

The two girls were pacing up and down in front of the lake, about a weekbefore the holidays were to begin. 

Meanwhile, at Sunnyside, school had recommenced. It is true that Jane, far too delicate to resume her lessons, was away at the seaside; butLucy, Laura, Annie Millar, Phyllis Flower, and Agnes Sparkes had allreturned to their studies. Miss Archer and Mademoiselle Omont were alsovery much to the fore. The kind Bretts had found rooms for the twogovernesses at Dartford; but they could not manage to take them inthemselves. The girls had therefore gone, after a certain manner, through their lessons; but now the holidays were approaching. 

"What a queer term it has been!" said Rosamund, talking to Irene as theywalked by the water-side. "I, who belonged to the Merrimans' party, spending all my time with you; you working hard at your daily lessonsand enjoying them; Miss Frost and Miss Carter the best of friends, andmeeting Sunday after Sunday; and you having quite a fancy--yes, and morethan a fancy--for Maud Singleton!"

"I am fond of her, " said Irene, "just because she is like yourself, sobrave. I wanted brave people. I never came across a brave person until Imet you. "

"Well, now we have to think of the holidays, " said Rosamund. "I havesomething to tell you, Irene. You have been good--very good; but all ourgoodness is worth nothing until it has been tried. Yours has not beentried yet. "

"What do you mean by that?" said Irene, in some terror, raising herlovely, wild, bright eyes to Rosamund's face. 

"Well, it hasn't, darling--has it?"

"I don't understand. I can't tell you what an effort it has been not tocollect worms and toads, and frogs and newts, and wasps and bees, andblue-bottles and spiders. I did so adore frightening the servants, particularly James; and there are such heaps of darling wasps thisseason. I just longed to stick one down his neck; but I refrained when Ilooked at you. "

"You ought not even to speak of these things; they mean downrightcruelty, and aren't the least bit funny. "

"Aren't they, now? Are you sure? They used to seem very funny to me--theway James used to start at table; because I generally managed, when heattended, to put a spider on my plate when I handed it to him. I used tokeep a little collection of them in my handkerchief, and generallypopped one on my plate; and he used always to say 'Oh!' and he wouldgenerally drop and break the plate, which was a valuable china one, andmother was quite annoyed. "

"Well, all those things are past. We needn't talk of them any more. Iwant to know what you are going to do in the holidays. "

"What are you going to do, Rose?"

"I am very sorry, Irene, but I am afraid I must go away from you. I haveto visit my parents; and there is something else they want me to do. They want me to go back to the Merrimans' school in the autumn, and staythere for at least a term. They say that in no other way can I get overthe disgrace of having, as it were, run away from school. I don't mind abit having done that, for I know that you wanted me; but I think I oughtto go back to the Merrimans' for at least a term. "

"Even with Lucy, odious creature?"

"Well, now, you don't know her. "

"But you do; and do you like her?"

"I can't honestly say that I do. "

"It is Sunday to-morrow; can't we both go to church, and then I can lookat Lucy in the distance and see what I think of her?"

"You ought not to go to church in that spirit. "

"Well, perhaps something else will happen. Maud Singleton is alwaysasking me to go to church. I think I will, if you will come with me. Wecan go to the evening service. I have never been. Maud says I wouldn'tfeel so like a changeling if I could pray like other people, and singhymns like other people. But then I'm sure I can't. May we sit near thedoor, and if I feel it impossible to remain quiet any longer, do youmind if I rush out?"

"We will certainly go to church, and we can sit near the door, and youshall rush out if you feel inclined, and I will come with you, " saidRosamund. "But this is rather starting away from our question. What doyou want to do during the holidays? You wouldn't, for instance, think ofspending them with the Singletons at the seaside?"

"I will tell you another time, " said Irene. "I can't make up my mind onthat point quite so soon. Now, let us come in, and you shall read mesome more from those wonderful _Arabian Nights_ fairy-tales. They are sobeautiful; I feel they were written for me. Afterwards we will have HansAndersen. "

"For my part, I like Hans Andersen best, " said Rosamund. 

The two girls went towards the house. Rosamund read, as was her wont, for half-an-hour to Irene, during which time that young person grew verysleepy, and soon afterwards went away to bed. Rosamund was about tofollow her when Lady Jane came into the room. 

"My dear Rose, " she said, "I have had a letter from your mother. Shesays that you are to join them in Switzerland during the first week ofthe holidays. I suppose you wouldn't think it possible that Irene and Ishould accompany you?"

"I should like it very much, " said Rosamund. "But I don't know thatmother would think it quite fair. Mother is not accustomed to a girllike Irene, and although she is wonderfully good to what she used to be, you can scarcely call her a good girl yet--not an ordinary good girl, Imean. "

"I suppose not, but she is quite sweet to me. Only I feel certain thatwhen your influence is withdrawn we shall have the old dreadful thingsoccurring again. "

"I don't think so, indeed. But do tell me what mother has said. "

"She says that you are to go back to the Merrimans' for the next term;but after that you can come and live with us if we want you. Shesuggested that we should take a house for the winter in town, so thatyou and Irene should have the advantage of the best masters possible tobe obtained, and the best literature classes, and the best concerts. Iam quite agreeable, for I am tired of living at The Follies. "

"You ought to take Irene away for the holidays, and of course Miss Frostwill go with you, " said Rosamund. "I wish I could stay. I would with aheart and a half; but I know father and mother would be terribly putout. "

"I feel very despondent, " said Lady Jane; "for although Irene is verymuch improved, there is a lot of the old nature in her still; and whenyou are gone, even the Singletons will be away, for they are going tothe seaside for the month of August--to Herne Bay, I believe. We shallhave no one at home, and Irene and I alone at the seaside would make aterrible pair. "

"I will write to mother. Something ought to be done, " said Rosamund verythoughtfully. "Leave it to me, " she continued. "What I have beenthinking is this: that Irene ought to come with me to the Merrimans' forone term. "

"You mean that I am to part with her--that she is not to live with me?Besides, would the Merrimans take a child with such a character?"

"She is quite a good character now, and it would be just the very thing. It would be the making of her. Then, perhaps, afterwards we might gotogether to a good foreign school and learn languages properly. I amsure it would do her a lot of good. But I will think about theholidays. "

Rosamund felt rather old and worn. A very heavy burden had been laid onher young shoulders. She, a girl of only fifteen years of age, was moreor less responsible for the entire life, the entire future, of abrilliant little sprite like Irene Ashleigh. 

The next day was Sunday, and it arose in great beauty and majesty. Thesun shone out of a cloudless sky, the flowers bloomed everywhere, thebirds sang, the heat was excessive, the gardens looked their best. Visitors came and went. Irene, no longer in the objectionable red frock, but now dressed as a pretty young girl of her age ought to be dressed, walked by Rosamund's side and chatted about books, about music, aboutall sorts of things, the existence of which she had scarcely known a fewweeks ago. Her intellect was of such a keen and brilliant order that shegrasped knowledge almost as easily as she imbibed her food. Rosamundfelt more and more proud of her. 

"With such talent and such beauty, what might she not aspire to?"thought the elder girl. The younger looked at her with a light in hereyes. 

"What are you thinking about, Rose?" she said. 

"I was wondering about something. You have promised to come to churchwith me this evening. I will tell you after church. "

Rosamund went away to her room, and there she sat down and wrote a longletter to her mother. She did not tell any one the contents of thatletter; but it took her a long time to write, and when she had finishedher cheeks were flushed and her eyes brighter than ever. 

At last the sweet bells ringing out the time for evening service smoteupon the summer air, and the two girls, in their white dresses, startedoff to walk to the pretty church, which was in reality not far away. Irene had not been in church since she was a tiny child, when she hadscreamed loudly, uttered naughty words, declared that the clergyman hadno right to come in in his night-gown, and, in short, disgraced herselfso thoroughly that she was carried out amidst a tempest of tears andprotestations. 

Now the older and wiser Irene, beautifully dressed all in white, lookingmore like an angel than a naughty, wayward, disagreeable girl, enteredthe old building and sat down near Rosamund in a pew at the end of thechurch. One of the churchwardens invited the two young people to come uphigher; but Rosamund requested to be left where they were, and presentlythe rest of the congregation streamed in. 

Irene was all excitement. She was, in fact, trembling all over. Thequiet grayness and the age of the building impressed her, she knew notwhy. Then the boys in their white surplices excited her wonder; then shewatched the congregation. The Singletons, as usual, were in their simplewhite and green; as usual their beautiful fair hair flowed down theirbacks; as usual they walked up the old aisle in pairs, two, and two, andtwo; and last of all came Miss Carter. 

"She doesn't look nice at all, " said Irene to herself. 

"How well I remember all about her: that rather crooked back of hers, those sloping shoulders, that ill-made dress, and that hat put on alwaysat the wrong angle. She is rather like Frosty. I wonder why I never hada stylish governess? But I'd have hated her worse than ever. Well, now Ihave got Rosamund--my dear, darling Rosamund--and she is beautiful aswell as good. "

Irene gazed with adoring eyes at her friend. Miss Frost was not presentat the evening service. 

By-and-by the Merriman party made their appearance, and took their seatsin the large square family pew. There was the Professor, with hisslightly bent figure and his white hair; there was Mrs. Merriman, roundand cherubic, looking as though no care had ever troubled her; and therewas Lucy, fair almost as the Singletons, with that particularly primface which aggravated Rosamund, and which would certainly drive Irene todistraction. None of these three even glanced at Rosamund Cunliffe andher friend; but when Laura Everett and one or two other girls appeared, they did see the pair seated in a pew all alone at the end of thechurch, and Laura nodded with a bright glance at Rosamund, who coloredwith pleasure in reply. 

"Is that stiff un, all prunes and prisms, Lucy?" whispered Irene in aloud voice. 

"I'll talk to you afterwards, " said Rosamund. "The service is going tobegin. This is the right place. I will find all your places for youto-night. You will find the service so nice. Remember, we are here topray to God, and not to think evil of our fellow-creatures. "

"You're getting quite too goody-goody, " laughed Irene in an excitedvoice. 

The service began; the music, of the simplest kind, but quite sweet andtrue, filled the little church. Irene fidgeted, turned first white, thenred, and finally, grasping Rosamund's arm, said in a choking voice, "Idon't like it. I can't stand the music. The wild, wild thing in me isjust as though it would tear me in pieces. I must get out. Come! Youpromised to come with me. "

Rosamund took her eccentric young friend outside the church. 

"What is the matter, Irene? You ought to try to control yourself. "

"I do as a rule. I am much better as a rule; but it came over me inchurch how proper people were, and they all of them talk about beingmiserable sinners, and every one looks so good and righteous, andknowing down deep in their hearts that every single one of them is amiserable sinner, except your darling, precious self; and they allrepeat the words, not feeling them a bit. I couldn't be like that. Ifthey'd all lie flat on their faces, and cry and tear their hair, or doanything to show that they were really sorry, I could sympathize withthem. But I can't sympathize with the proper sort of people who fill avillage church. "

"They have learned to control themselves. They very likely do feel thatthey are miserable sinners in the sight of God. We must learn not tojudge people. Oh, Irene, what am I to do with you? What will you do whenI am gone?"

"I know what I will do when you are away, " said Irene. "I have thoughtit all out. I'll have a wild, wild time. I have been good long enough. I'll go back to my frogs and toads and leeches, and spiders and waspsand bees. I'll terrify the servants again, and scare mother, and sendFrosty off her head. That's what I'll do; and I'll wear my little reddress, and I'll get Frosty into the middle of the lake, and I'll makeher promise to go away, and if she refuses to go--I know she won't, foreven those children won't keep her when such a thing as that is thoughtof"----

"Oh, I have such a splendid thought!" said Rosamund suddenly. "Supposeyou make Frosty happy instead of miserable? You can if you like. Supposeyou allow her to ask the two children, Agnes and Hughie, to spend theholidays at The Follies?"

"The two children--Frosty's two children?"

"Yes, her little brother and sister. She was telling me the other dayshe didn't know what to do with them. It would be such a splendidopportunity, and there is really no necessity whatever for you to leaveThe Follies. You could be there, and they would look up to you. Theydon't know that you are naughty--they need never know. I would be withyou for the first two or three days, for their different schools breakup before most schools, so they could come next week, and I could helpyou with them. What do you think? You wouldn't be without companions, and it would be a tremendous trust to repose in you, Irene. Do you thinkyou would be worthy of it?"

"These were those words the clergyman said--Mr. Singleton, I mean--'Iwill arise and go to my Father, and will say unto Him: Father, I havesinned. ' They made such a lump come in my throat; and when you talk tome a great lump comes in my throat too, and I feel that I have donenothing but sin all my life. Oh, I can't be sure of myself; that's aboutthe end of the matter, Rosamund. "

"I know--I know!" said Rosamund. "I know it is very hard; but then, anything worth living for is hard; and you have done so much that iswrong, it would be a splendid thing to turn over a new leaf now. Do youknow what I have further in my mind? You know that I am to go back tothe Merrimans' next term, but only till Christmas, and I want yourmother to let you come with me. The Merrimans want another governess, soFrosty could come; and perhaps her little sister Agnes could be anotherpupil. Everything can be arranged if only you will promise to be good. "

"But you weren't good yourself while you were at the Merrimans'. How canyou expect me to be?"

"We'll keep each other good. When I am inclined to be naughty you shallcorrect me, and when you are inclined to be naughty I will correct you. We will arrange to sleep in the same room. Shall we try it, Irene--shallwe?"

Irene paused for a minute. There were tears in her eyes. After a momentshe said, "How long is it since I have known you?"

"About six or seven weeks. "

"It seems like quite that number of years. I never can believe thatthere could have been a time when I didn't know you. I know you, oh, sowell now, and I love you so much! You have done a great deal for me. "

"I don't pretend that I haven't, Irene. But I must do what my father andmother want during the holidays. I do think it would be a splendid planto ask little Hughie and Agnes to spend August at The Follies. I wonderwhat Frosty would say? Let us ask her after supper. "

Irene flung her arms round Rosamund's neck. 

"I don't quite promise to be good, " she said; "but I'll do my best. Iwill do it for your sake, more particularly if you will promise that youwill be with us for the first few days. "

"Yes, I'll be with you for the first week. They could come early nextweek, and I am not going away until the week after. "

"Oh! don't talk about it; it is too horrible. Let us come into thefields and talk about ourselves. "

The two girls did walk together, and it was Irene's turn to tellRosamund some of the wild and fanciful fairy-tales which she was alwaysmaking up. But she could never be still very long, and in the midst ofher most earnest and fascinating stories she would rush from one end ofthe field to the other, or turn a somersault, or climb a tree and lookdown at Rosamund with her laughing, mocking face from the midst of thebranches. But then again she would be good, and come back and say thatthe wicked little living thing inside her was quiet for the time being. 

"I wonder if it will ever go away?" she said. "If it were gone I'd bemuch like other girls; but as long as it is there I can't be like anygirl--I can't. "

"There is such a thing as praying to God to take it away. But perhaps itis never meant to go, " said Rosamund. 

"What do you mean by that?"

"Perhaps it is a very beautiful gift that God has given you--somethingthat you can't quite control at present, but something which will makeyou by-and-by different from others: more earnest, more enthusiastic, more full of spirit, more full of zeal. You have set your face steadilytowards everything that has been naughty. You don't know yourself. Justtell that thing, as you call it, inside you that you are going up, notdown, in future, and see if it won't behave itself and help you all thetime. "

"I wonder if it will?" said Irene. "It is a good thought. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

FROSTY'S DARLINGS. 

Miss Frost's alarm, surprise, and delight when Rosamund had an earnesttalk with her on the following morning can be better imagined thandescribed. 

"Of course, you can understand, " she said, "that nothing would give megreater pleasure than having the darlings here with me; but how am I totrust Irene? Agnes is rather a timid little thing. Hughie is braveenough. I should not be afraid of him. He is fourteen; Agnes is onlyeleven. I am so afraid that Agnes, who has a little bit of me in hernature, will succumb utterly and show Irene that she is afraid of her. Then all would be lost. "

"Nothing will be lost, " replied Rosamund. "It is the very best planpossible. You must make Irene the guardian of Agnes from the very first. You must make her take that position with her; it is the only thing todo. The mistake has been that people were terrified of her. Hercharacter, which is really very fine, has been spoiled by such a course. Give her a little tender thing to love, and make her guard thatcreature, and she will fight for her to the very death. I do believe it. Trust me, I have studied her character so carefully. "

"I do indeed trust you, dear, " replied Miss Frost, with tears in hereyes. "Well, then, if Lady Jane approves"----

Of course Lady Jane approved. She said at once that she did not wish toleave The Follies. 

"I like to go away sometimes in November, " she said, "or at the end ofOctober, when the leaves are falling. But I love my own beautiful homein the summer weather best of all places on earth, and I am afraid oftaking Irene to fashionable places. I tried her once at the seaside fora week; but her conduct was scandalous, and I was forced to bring herhome at a minute's notice. I needn't repeat what she did; but she reallywas unbearable to every one in the house. Of course, Miss Frost, if yourlittle brother and sister can be happy here, I shall be delighted toreceive them. "

"Then I will write this very day, " said Miss Frost; and Rosamund tookcare that she kept her word. 

In consequence, just as the holidays at the Merrimans' began, on thevery day that Mrs. Merriman walked all the way to The Follies in orderto see Rosamund, the little Frosts also made their appearance on thescene. 

Mrs. Merriman came an hour before the children. She was dressed in herusual prim and proper style, and Rosamund could not help owning to adistasteful feeling when she saw her. She and Irene were walking aboutin a considerable state of excitement. Irene had been planning everyhour of the day for her visitors. 

"You know I have never had visitors before, " she said. "I don't exactlycount you as a visitor. You are dearer to me than I am to myself. Youare all the world to me; but these are visitors. If I could only forgetthat they belonged to Frosty all would be well. "

"But you must on no account forget it. You must think of Frosty'spleasure as well as your own. You know you have promised--yes, you havepromised me, you who don't tell lies--to go up, not down, in future. Oh, there is Mrs. Merriman! I must run and speak to her. "

"That prim, dumpling sort of woman? Oh, all right, go; but don't staylong with her. I want you. I am beginning to count the minutes now. Ifeel so terribly anxious at your leaving me. "

Rosamund almost wished that she were not obliged to leave The Follies atthis juncture; but her own father and mother would not hear of herstaying away from them. She accordingly left Irene on the presentoccasion, and walked across the lawn to meet Mrs. Merriman. 

Mrs. Merriman paused when she saw her. 

"How do you do, Rosamund?" she said. She spoke coldly, and did not holdout her hand. 

Rosamund replied in as prim a voice as the little lady had used:

"How do you do, Mrs. Merriman? I hope you are all quite well at theschool. How was Jane when you heard from her last?"

"Almost quite well, I am glad to say. She will be able to return to herlessons in the middle of September. I have something to say to you, Rosamund, and as we have met here in the avenue, I need not go up to thehouse. "

"Just as you like about that, " said Rosamund. "Wouldn't you like to havea cup of tea? I am sure Lady Jane would be pleased to see you. Are younot tired? The walk is a somewhat long one. "

"I am never tired, " replied Mrs. Merriman. "If my dear husband, mybeloved Professor, had even half my strength, we should not be obligedto keep a school full of troublesome girls at all. "

"Indeed! are the others troublesome?" asked Rosamund, her eyessparkling. 

"I cannot say that they are particularly troublesome now that you areaway. "

Rosamund lowered her lids, but her eyes danced. She looked on theground. 

"If I am to go back to the school next term, and take Irene with me, Idon't know how I shall bear it, " she said to herself. 

Mrs. Merriman, however, was nothing if not to the point. 

"My dear, " she said slowly, "it is my husband's lot and mine to have toearn money in a way which is in no way congenial to either of us. "

"But you are always so kind! You never gave any trouble of any sort, "was Rosamund's response. "You seemed to understand us in a sort offashion. It was--Lucy!" she added with a burst. 

"Lucy is my darling, beloved, and only child. You must not say a wordagainst her. I cannot stand it. "

"Very well, I will try not to; but you know she does not like me. "

"She certainly doesn't; but has she any reason for liking you, Rosamund?"

"Perhaps she has not; that is quite probable. I know I was notparticularly good when I was at Sunnyside. "

"And do you think you are particularly good now?"

"I do not. Perhaps I see my faults more plainly than ever. But I havehelped Irene, and Irene is worth helping. "

"I hardly dare to think of what I have come about to-day; but theProfessor has sent me. He has received a letter from your mother, and hehas also seen Mr. Singleton, and Mr. Singleton has suggested anextraordinary thing. He wants both you and Irene--yes, the dreaded, thefeared Irene--to come to our beautiful house for next term. You werepractically expelled from the school; but he wants you to come backagain, and the Professor has sent me to say that he is willing toreceive you both, on condition that you will not disturb the peace ofthe house. "

"As far as I am concerned, I will not disturb it; but I cannot answerfor Irene. "

"I dread her unspeakably, " said Mrs. Merriman. "Do walk with me for alittle down this path, my dear. You, of course, are only an ordinarilynaughty girl. You have been very disobedient, but I can overlook that, and perhaps understand it; but she--some people say she is not quiteright in the head. Do you think that is true?"

"I know it to be false. She has cleverer brains than most of us. "

"Then, if that is the case, she is just extraordinarily wicked--wickedbeyond most people. "

"You may think that if you like, Mrs. Merriman, but it is also untrue. Iwill tell you quite frankly what has been wrong with Irene. People havebeen afraid of her. I was the only person who ever came across her pathwho showed no fear at her presence. I simply conquered her by having astronger will than she has. Now, if all your girls will behave in thatsort of fashion to her, not minding her when she does what she considersclever little tricks, she will soon stop them. I don't believe she willeven attempt them, for I shall do my utmost to prevent it. But if shedoes, your only plan is to take no notice of her. If people show nofear, then her fun is gone--her wings are cut, in short. That was theway I got an influence over her, and it is the way in which others mayget an influence over her. I want her to sleep in my room, instead ofdear Jane, whom I am so fond of. "

"Oh! that will be quite easily managed, for no other girl would endureher as a room-fellow. "

"I will do my very best to keep her tame. More I cannot say. "

"I suppose you are very kind; but do tell me, is it true that she putswasps down people's necks? Does she put leeches into the beds withoutany one knowing anything about it? It is perfectly awful to think of. "

"I am not going to tell tales out of school, " said Rosamund, laughing. "I can only say that Irene is greatly improved; and if your girls, yourLucy included, will behave themselves, and not show the slightestfear--and why should they fear?--I think she will come out of the ordeala brave and strong and good girl. They all ought to help, and I wish Icould see them all and tell them so. "

"I do believe you are quite a good girl, " said Mrs. Merriman, turningher eyes in some amazement and looking at Rosamund. "I have been veryangry with you, and so was Lucy; my poor dear Lucy will never quiteforgive you; but I see now that you meant right, although you went thewrong way about it. "

"It seemed the only way at the time. I am very sorry if I have troubledyou, " said Rosamund. 

"Well, then, I will expect you and Irene at the beginning of the term. You shall share the same room, and I trust you to keep Irene withinbounds. Now, good-by. "

Mrs. Merriman turned and walked down the avenue, and was soon lost toview. 

Irene, who had been watching this interview from the top branch of atall tree, now quickly descended and came up to Rosamund's side. 

"So she has gone!" she said. "So she is to be my head-mistress infuture. But never mind her now. It is a long way off school-days, andthe holidays have hardly begun. Frosty has gone off to fetch thechildren. I am dying with excitement to see them. But it was great funto watch you, Rosamund. I could not hear what your words were; but I sawthat you were pleading for me, and promising to be my sponsor, mygodmother. As if I could be good there!"

"You must be good. I have declared it; I have almost staked myreputation on the fact. You will not disappoint me, " was Rosamund'sreply. 

The girls walked about for some little time together, and by-and-bythere came the sound of wheels, and they knew that the travelers hadarrived. 

"Come along, Irene, " said Rosamund; and they went down the avenue tomeet Miss Frost, who was herself driving the governess-cart. Her thinface was flushed with excitement, her eyes were bright; she looked tenyears younger, and almost pretty. An exceedingly pretty little girl, with dark eyes, and a quantity of fair hair tumbling about her face, satclose up to her half-sister. A boy, plain, with freckles, sandy hair, and light-blue eyes, was ejaculating in a lordly tone:

"I tell you, sister, you are not holding the reins right!--Oh, hullo!"he exclaimed as he saw Irene and Rosamund. "Won't you tell my sisterthat she is not to hold the reins like that? She is nagging at thepony's mouth all the time, and hurting him. "

"Of course she is, " said Irene, springing forward. 

Hugh jumped from the governess-cart. Miss Frost also descended. Hugh andIrene had an earnest harangue on the subject of pony-driving, and MissFrost, much relieved at such an unceremonious introduction, turned herattention to little Agnes. 

"Agnes is tired, and has a headache, and would like me to take her intothe house. May I?" she said, looking appealingly at Rosamund. 

But Rosamund was not going to shirk her duty. These children were to beIrene's guests, and they must be immediately put into their rightposition. She turned, therefore, to her little friend and touched her onthe arm. 

"Irene, " she said, "you ought to have a proper introduction to Agnes. This is Agnes Frost. "

Little Agnes came shyly forward and looked straight up with her big darkeyes at Irene. She was a smaller girl, and if possible still moredelicate-looking, but very pretty and interesting. Hugh, who had beenhaving such an interesting debate with Irene, now stepped up to Agnesand flung his arm round her neck. 

"She is tired, poor baby!" he said. "She wants to go in and go to sleepfor an hour. You have a headache, haven't you, little un?"

"Yes, " replied Agnes. "My head aches rather badly. It is the train--italways makes me feel sick. "

"Then shall I take you into the house?" said Irene. 

She forgot Hugh, to Hugh's own amazement. She took Agnes' tiny hand andled her toward the house. Miss Frost longed to follow; but Rosamund heldher back. 

"No, no. On no account go with them, " she said. "Let Irene feel that shehas got possession of the little one at once. You see how confidentlyAgnes gave her hand. That is the best possible sign. Let her take her toher room and see after her comforts. "

Irene--who never before in all her life had any creature to look up toher, who was looked down upon with terror and shunned by herfellow-creatures, with the exception of Rosamund, who ruled her, although with the weapons of love--felt an altogether new sensation nowas the little creature, not so old as herself, clung to her confidently. 

"I shall be glad to lie down, " said little Agnes. "Have you ever gonelong journeys by train, and does your head ache?"

"No, I haven't gone long journeys by train; but I will take you to yourroom and draw down the blinds, and you can go to sleep. "

"May I? That is what I want more than anything else. If I could sleepfor half-an-hour I should feel better. "

"You shall, of course, " said Irene. 

She walked slowly through the house, holding this small, dependentcreature by the hand. Was she not her guest? She forgot all about poorMiss Frost, whose heart was devoured with jealousy; for little Agnes, inthe olden times, had clung to her. Now she clung close to Irene. 

"You are so nice, " she said, "and so pretty! I am glad I am coming tospend the holidays with you. "

"Are you?" said Irene, with a queer look. 

James the footman saw them as they went upstairs; and Lady Jane stood atthe drawing-room door, but made no sign. 

Irene presently reached the small but very prettily arranged room whichthe little girl was to occupy. 

"This room opens out of Frosty's, " she said. 

"Who is Frosty?" asked the child. 

"My governess, of course, and your sister. "

"Oh! but I'd rather sleep in a room opening out of yours. Can't I? Ofcourse, I'm very fond of my dear sister Emily; but you are so fresh, andI think you will take care of me. "

"There is a tiny room which you could have next to mine, and we couldhave the doors open, and I promise to be awfully careful of you, if youreally like it best, " said Irene, who felt more and more charmed at thedependence of this small creature. 

"Yes, I know I'd like it best. But may I lie down here just for thepresent?"

"Of course you may. "

Irene herself helped to remove Agnes's boots. She laid her on the bedand put the coverlet over her, and then rang the bell. One of thehousemaids appeared. 

"I want some tea, " said Irene in a lofty tone, "for little Miss AgnesFrost. You can bring it up on a tray with cakes, and I can have some atthe same time. And please arrange the pink bedroom opening out of minefor Miss Agnes to sleep in to-night. Do you hear? Do you understand?"

"Yes, miss, of course, " said the girl, retiring in a great hurry in theutmost amazement; for over Irene's curious, expressive little face hadcome a new look--a look of protection, almost of motherhood. 

She bent down and kissed little Agnes; and Agnes put her thin arms roundher neck, and said, "Oh, you are so beautiful, and so--so kind to me! Ofcourse, I love dear sister Emily; but she is old, and you are young. Iwant somebody young--somebody like you--to be kind to me, for I am sucha timid little girl. Will you take care of me?"

"I vow I will, " said Irene. 

"Then you will hold my hand if I do drop asleep--for this is such a big, strange house, and I may feel frightened?"

"No one shall frighten you while I am here, " was Irene's answer. 

The housemaid, the veritable Susan who had once spoken such harsh thingsto Irene, presently came in with the tea-tray. Irene herself poured outthe tea and brought it to little Agnes, who drank it feverishly, andthen lay down; but she was too tired and too ill from her journey tocare to eat any cakes. Just as she was dropping off to sleep, Miss Frostput in an anxious face. 

"Run away, Frosty; run away at once. She is my charge, " said Irene; andMiss Frost, smothering the jealousy which could not but arise in herheart, left the room. 

This was a position she had not expected. Nevertheless, there was nohelp for it. 

"Now, I am going to munch cakes, and you shall sleep. Would you like meto tell you a story while you are dropping off to sleep?"

"If it isn't at all frightening--if it is nice. "

"I will tell you about the little princess in Hans Andersen. My darling, my noble, my beloved Rosamund told it to me, and I will tell it to you. Now then, listen. "

Irene began. She could tell that marvelous tale with all the grace andunction and passion which her genius inspired her with. Little Agneslistened and listened, and forgot her terrors. She clung closer andcloser to her companion, and when the story came to an end her starryeyes were brimful of tears. 

"Oh, that is very sweet!" said the little girl. "And now the littleprincess is one of the spirits of the air, and she has wonsomething"----

"She has won her soul, " said Irene in a strange, strangled sort ofvoice; for it occurred to her that, after all, the little princess mighthave a greater resemblance to herself than ever she had thought. For wasshe not fighting for her own soul all this time?

While little Agnes slept, Irene sat in the room by her side still andquiet. There were voices heard in the distance; the manly voice ofHughie, who was somewhat dictatorial, and was ordering people about, andtelling this person or the other that they were doing things wrong, andwas terrifying his sister by his manly ways. There was Rosamund's voice, who was quite delighted at the turn events had taken. There was MissFrost's voice, anxious about Agnes, and quite sure that Irene must endby terrifying her. There was Rosamund again persuading and soothing, anddoing all she could to allow the present order of things to take anatural course. But upstairs in the pretty little bedroom the childslept peacefully; and Irene looked at her and felt new sensations, newhopes, new desires struggling in her breast. She had loved Rosamundbecause she was so strong. She was beginning to love little Agnesbecause she was so weak. What a strange tangle the world was! What washappening to her? And why was that curious living thing within sosatisfied, so happy, so sure of itself?

It was between six and seven o'clock when Agnes, neatly and tidilydressed, came downstairs, accompanied by Irene, who led her straightinto the drawing room. 

"This is Agnes Frost, mothery, " said Irene; "and you are on no accountto tire her. She is better now. Are you not, Agnes?"

"Yes, I am better, " replied the little girl. "But who is this grand ladyyou are introducing me to?"

"This is my mother--Lady Jane. "

"I never knew anybody called 'Lady' before. "

"Well, my mother is Lady Jane--Lady Jane Ashleigh. "

Little Agnes held out a timid hand. 

"How do you do, dear? I hope you have got over the fatigue of yourjourney. "

"Oh, yes, mothery, she is quite well now. Don't worry her, " said Irenealmost rudely. "I am going to take her out in the boat on the lake. "

"Be sure you are very careful. "

"I will be careful enough. "

Just then Miss Frost came in. 

"Agnes, I hear Irene wants to take you out in the boat. You are not togo. "

"But she has promised, " said little Agnes. 

She raised confiding dark eyes to her new friend's face. 

"You must trust me, Frosty. Don't be a perfect goose, " said Irene; andtaking Agnes' hand, they went down across the summer lawn to the placewhere the boat was moored. By-and-by Irene was seen by those whowatched, gently rowing among the water-lilies, with little Agnes at theother end of the boat. 

"What a beautiful girl you are!" little Agnes kept saying; "and howhappy my sister ought to be, living always with you!"

"Don't ask her if she is happy for a day or two. I have given directionsabout your room. You shall sleep in the little pink room next to mine. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

A SORT OF ANGEL. 

Irene pulled with swift, sure strokes across the summer lake. The lakewas one of the great features of the place. It was a quarter of a milewide, and half a mile in length, and had been carefully attended to byowner after owner for generations; so that groups of water-lilies grewhere, and swans arched their proud white necks and spread out theirfeathered plumes. Little Agnes had never seen anything so lovely before, and when she bent forward and saw her own reflection in the water shegave a scream of childish pleasure. 

"Oh, how happy sister Emily must be!" was her remark. 

Again Irene made the strange answer, "Don't ask for a day or two. "

Then little Agnes raised grave dark eyes to Irene's face. 

"But any one would be happy with you, " she said. "To look at you is sucha comfort. "

"Tell me about yourself, " said Irene suddenly, shipping her oars, bending forward, and fixing her intensely bright eyes on the child. 

She did not feel at all like a changeling now. That wild thing in herbreast was still. She felt somewhat like a mother, somewhat like anordinary little girl might feel towards a loved baby-sister, or eventowards a doll. This new sense of protection had a marvelous effect uponher. She would not have minded if little Agnes had crept into her armsand laid her head on her breast. 

"Tell me what you did before you came here, " she said. 

"But don't you know?" said Agnes. "Sister Emily has been living with youfor a long time. She must have told you about me. "

"I am ashamed to say I never asked her anything about you. "

"I suppose that is because you are very thoughtful. You weredetermined--yes, determined--not to give her pain. She is always so sadwhen she thinks of us; but Hughie and I are not really unhappy. We don'tmind things now. "

"What do you mean by 'now'? Tell me--do tell me. "

"Oh, we are at school. Hughie is at a pretty good school, although it israther rough. He is learning hard. He is to be apprenticed to a tradesome day. Dear sister Emily cannot afford to bring him up as agentleman; but she is saving every penny of her money to put him into areally good trade. Perhaps he will be a bookbinder, or perhaps acabinetmaker. "

"But people of that sort are not gentry, " said Irene. Then she coloredand bit her lips. 

Little Agnes had seen so much of the rough side of life that she was notat all offended. 

"Sister Emily says that she could not afford to bring us up as a ladyand gentleman, and so we are to be trained for something else. I thinkshe is going to put me into a shop. "

"Indeed she won't, " said Irene fiercely, "for I won't let her. "

There was a new tone in her voice which frightened little Agnes. Shesank back among her soft cushions. 

"You mustn't be angry with her, for she is the best sister in all theworld. No one else would work so hard to support us. You know, whenfather and mother died there wasn't a penny-piece to keep us, and wewere both very young; and if it hadn't been for Emily I might have beensent to one of those dreadful charity schools. But as it is, I am beingtaught, and now I am staying at this lovely place for the holidays, andI have met you, and I think you are a sort of angel. "

Irene burst into a ringing laugh. 

"You're the very first person who has ever called me that, " she said. "Now look here, Agnes; there's just one thing I want to ask you. "

"What is that?" asked little Agnes. 

"Don't speak to the servants about me, nor even to your beloved Emily, nor much to Rosamund. You think certain things about me. Other peoplemay not agree with you. "

"I should like to fight them if they differed, " said the little girl. 

"Well, that's all right; you can fight them by-and-by if you like; butat present say nothing about me. I am your friend; it will depend onwhether you keep silence or not whether I continue to be your friend. Aslong as I am your friend you are safe and happy here, so that is allright. "

Little Agnes, never having heard anything about Irene except that shewas her sister Emily's pupil, believed these words, and continued tolook with a fascinated gaze at the white-throated swans, at thebeautiful water-lilies, and at the calm reflection of the boat and theirtwo selves in the water. She saw nothing whatever of the rapid stream inthe centre of the lake, where poor Miss Carter had almost met her death, nor did she see any fierce or turbulent side to Irene's erratic nature. 

By-and-by the bell sounded, and Irene exclaimed, "I declare it is timefor us to go in. You are much too young to sit up to dinner. I will seethat you are put to bed, and have something very nice for you to eat, and I will sit with you until you fall asleep. "

"But you will want your own dinner, " said little Agnes. 

"My own dinner doesn't matter in the very least. I will have a snatch ofsomething when I go downstairs. Now come along. "

She began to ply her oars again, and in a minute or two they had landed, the boat had been moored, and the two children went up to the house. 

Hughie was standing on the steps, blowing a loud whistle through hisfingers. 

"Hullo, Aggie!" he cried. "Why, you are looking as fresh as possible;and Miss Irene--the wonderful Miss Irene"--here he gave a mocking bowto Irene--"has taken you under her wing. I can tell you sister Emily ispretty jealous. "

Irene looked at him with small favor. 

"Will you please let us pass?" she said. 

The boy made another sweeping bow, and Irene and little Agnes passedinto the house. They went upstairs. Irene took her little friend to thepink room next to her own. Here all her things had been unpacked alreadyby Miss Frost herself, who had now, however, vanished. Agnes, tired, happy, pleased with her new friend, fearing nothing, trusting allthings, was soon got into bed, and Irene sat by her until she droppedasleep. Then she laid a light kiss on her forehead, closed the doorsoftly, and went downstairs. 

Dinner was a thing of the past. Hughie and Miss Frost were pacing aboutin one of the corridors. Irene ran into the drawing-room. Lady Jane waslying on one of the sofas, half-asleep. She started up when she saw herdaughter, and said in a quiet tone, "You will want some dinner, won'tyou?"

"Yes; I have desired James to give me something. He is getting itready. "

"I will come and sit with you while you eat it, " said Rosamund, who wasalso there, jumping up and tossing down the book she had been lookingthrough somewhat restlessly. 

The two girls moved off. Irene satisfied her appetite, and then Rosamundasked her to come with her into one of the greenhouses. 

"Well, " said Irene, her eyes sparkling, "I suppose you are satisfiedwith me to-night. I have behaved well to little Agnes, have I not?"

"In one sense you have behaved well enough; but you have quite forgottenone thing. "

"I do hope you are not going to scold me, I feel so wonderfullyvirtuous. She is a dear little soul, and I have promised to take herunder my protection--that is, if no one will interfere. But I see youmean to begin at once. It is exceedingly unkind of you. What is wrongnow?"

"Only Miss Frost--poor Miss Frost! You seem to have taken the littlesister quite away from her. She has not been able to speak to the littlething since she arrived, and she has done everything for her. "

"It doesn't matter what Frosty has done in the past. I mean to doeverything for little Agnes in the future--that is, if I am not bullied. If I am, I----What is it, Rosamund?"

"Dear Irene, I quite know what you feel. It is the first time you havefound some one absolutely to trust you. Little Agnes trusts you; but youought to remember that she is Miss Frost's little sister. You ought notto hurt her feelings. You ought to let Miss Frost do something for her, too. If you had been supporting somebody very precious and very dear fora great many years, and then quite a fresh person came along and tookthat treasure from you, how would you feel?"

"I'm sure I don't know. I can't understand the position. I only knowthat I like little Agnes, and as long as she is left with me I shall begood to her. The best possible thing for Frosty and yourself and thathorrid, tiresome boy to do is to go away, I'll look after little Agnes. "

"You were very sweet to her to-day, I will admit that; but what I wantto say is, do try and remember that Miss Frost will want to seesomething of her too. Don't let Miss Frost become too jealous, for sheis devoted to her little sister. "

"Well, I hate the boy, " said Irene. "He was so rude when we came off thelake, and he whistled in such a defiant way. He isn't one bit agentleman. Little Agnes told me that he was going to be a sort oftradesman. We oughtn't to have those people coming to the house. Youshouldn't have insisted on my inviting them; you really shouldn't, Rosamund. "

"I thought you were quite above that sort of thing, " said Rosamund in alofty tone. "But never mind. Do what you wish; only remember that boththe boy and girl are your guests, and that I am going away next week. "

Irene suddenly felt that Rosamund, much as she adored her, was a littletoo dictatorial that evening. She had expected great praise for herconduct, instead of which she had been blamed. She ran out into the coolnight air, notwithstanding the expostulations of her mother, and came inlate, feeling fagged and wearied. She did not invite Rosamund, as washer custom, to come to her bedroom; but she went there alone, lockingthe outer door, and then softly opening the door between herself and thenew treasure she had found. Yes, little Agnes was a treasure. She wassomething more precious than gold. She was like a doll of the mostbeautiful order. 

Now, Irene had always despised dolls; but this living doll, with thepink cheeks, and the black eyelashes, and the soft hair, and the sweetlittle face, was altogether a different matter. The little one stirredin her sleep and breathed a name softly. Irene bent to listen--the namewas her own. 

"Irene darling!" murmured little Agnes. 

"Oh, she is a pet! I am so glad she has come! I'd almost die for her!"thought the girl. 

She went back to her own room after gazing once again at the sweetlittle face. That night, for the first time for years, Irenedeliberately dropped on her knees and uttered a prayer full ofthankfulness to God. "I thank Thee, great good God, for having given mea darling little girl to protect and love. Please don't allow Frosty tobe jealous, and please let her stay with me, for she is just the personto quiet that horrid living thing inside me, " whispered the child. Thenshe got into bed and fell fast asleep. 

She was awakened by cries before morning dawned. In a moment she startedup, sprang out of bed, and rushed into the next room. Little Agnes wassitting up in her bed, puzzled and terrified. 

"Where am I? Oh, what has happened?"

"Are you frightened, darling?" said Irene. "Are you really frightened?Would you like to come into my bed? Have you had a bad dream?"

"I have. I thought I was at school, and that Mrs. Treadgold, one of ourmistresses, had beaten me. I fancied that she was beating me hard, andthat made me wake. Now I remember that I am with you. Oh, yes, I shouldlike to come into your bed. "

"Then you shall come at once, " said Irene. 

She lifted the little girl out. She herself felt quite old and motherlybeside the little one. During the remainder of the night they slept ineach other's arms, and much of the hardness and the wildness of Irene'snature melted away during that sleep, and some of that motherhood whichis the most blessed gift God can give to a girl visited her. 

She herself insisted on helping Agnes to dress in the morning, and thenthey went down to breakfast hand in hand. 

CHAPTER XX. 

A SORT OF WITCH. 

Hughie was a dictatorial, troublesome sort of boy; but Rosamund took himin hand from the first, and kept him somewhat in order. Miss Frost, looking very patient, followed her brother and sister and Irene about. Once little Agnes was all alone in a bower, where she was waiting forIrene to come to her. This was Rosamund's opportunity. She went straightup to the child, took one of her hands, and sat down near her. 

"I am so glad, Agnes, " she said, "that you love Irene. But now I want tosay something to you. "

"I love you, too, " said little Agnes, who was the gentlest and mostaffectionate creature under the sun. 

"And don't you love your own dear sister Emily?"

"Oh, of course I do! I love her very much indeed. "

"Then I wish you would go and tell her so, for she is sitting not faraway crying very bitterly. "

"Crying?" said little Agnes. 

"Yes--because you haven't been with her at all to-day, and hardlyyesterday; she can't make out what it means, and it troubles her a gooddeal. Do go and put your arms round her neck, and tell her that althoughyou love Irene, you can never love any one like you do her. "

"But I think, " said little Agnes, who was the soul of truth, "that I dolove Irene quite as much as I love Emily. "

"Then you oughtn't to, for Miss Frost is your own sister, and she hasdone so much for you--far more than you can in the least understand atpresent. "

"Anyhow, I do love her very much, and I'll tell her so, " said the littlegirl. 

She flew away from Rosamund, who sat down on the seat which Agnes hadoccupied. She had not been there more than a minute or two before Irene, carrying a basket of fruit in her hand, entered in great excitement. 

"Where is Agnes? Where is my dear little pet? Oh, you are there, Rosamund!"

"Yes, Irene, and I hope you are glad to see me. "

"Of course I am, Rosamund. I am always that. But where is my littleAgnes? I want her to have some of these ripe plums. She is so fond ofplums. "

"Well, she oughtn't to have any more, for she ate too many yesterday, and Miss Frost says they don't agree with her. "

"As if Frosty knew anything about the matter! I am the person who isgoing to take care of Agnes in the future. I have settled all that withmyself. As to mother, she will do as I wish. I am going to adopt Agnes;I call her my adopted child. "

"But that is rather ridiculous, isn't it, Irene, seeing that you arealmost the same age?"

"There are two years between us; but then, Agnes is so very small, so_petite_ in every way, and so--so sweet and so defenseless. "

"I always thought you did not care for defenseless people, nor for weakpeople, nor timid people. "

"Oh, I like her sort. You see, she believed in me from the first. "

"I hope she always will, " said Rosamund. 

"Well, where is she now?"

"She has gone to talk to her sister. You cannot expect her to give upall her time to you. "

"But indeed that is just what I do. What can she have in common withthat tiresome, frowzy old Frosty?"

"Only she happens to be her sister, and that tiresome, frowzy oldFrosty, as you call her, has looked after her since she was a littlechild, when her mother died. "

"Oh, yes, I've heard all that story. I suppose it's very noble; but, allthe same, little Agnes is fonder of me. "

"You have no right to steal her heart from Miss Frost. "

"Rosamund, I don't know what to make of you. You always have a greatinfluence over me; but what is the matter now? Do you want to take Agnesaway from me? If you wish to, you may; but I shall follow, for I don'tintend to give her up, and nobody living will make me. I am sure you cando what you like with that detestable Hugh, and Frosty can go for herholidays. It would be a very good idea. Agnes and I would be quite happyat The Follies, with dear mother, of course, to take care of us. "

Just at that moment there came a whoop and a spring, and Hughie, his redface redder than ever, his freckles more marked, his carroty hairsticking up all over his head, and his light-blue eyes wearing a mostmischievous expression, entered the little arbor and sat down at oneside of Irene. 

"I say, " he remarked, "I want to ask you a direct question. "

"What is that?" she said, moving slightly away from him. 

He edged a little nearer. 

"Is it true that you gave sister Emily horrid live things that curledthemselves up into so-called pills, and she swallowed them and nearlydied afterward? Is it true--tell me?"

"It's quite true, " said Irene, all the dancing wickedness coming to thefront at once, and her eyes blazing with anger. 

"Then you are a really wicked girl. You might have been had up by thepolice and put into prison. "

"And what if I had, you wicked boy--for you are about the wickedest andrudest boy I have ever come across? Much do I care! I wanted her to go, and I thought that would be a good way to get rid of her. "

"Oh, that's all right!" said Hugh. "I'll just go and tell Agnes. I'lltell her that you'll do things of that sort to her, that you are a sortof witch, and will show your true colors before long. Now, what is thematter?"

"You sha'n't tell her. You daren't!" said Irene. 

She caught both his hands as though in a vise. He was amazed at theirstrength, also at the beautiful, extraordinary passion of her face. Rosamund started up to interfere. 

"Come, children, " she said, "don't quarrel. Hughie, you do extremelywrong to speak in that tone to Irene. Come and have a walk with me. Youknow I am going away to-morrow, and I wouldn't have asked Irene toinvite you both to this beautiful house, and to give you such a splendidholiday, if I hadn't thought you were going to be quite good. Ah! herecomes Agnes. "

Agnes was seen flying across the lawn. She was wearing a pretty whitedress, and her whole dainty little figure, with her light hair flyingwildly behind her, made her a most charming little picture. She dashedup to Irene, flung her arms round her neck, and kissed her passionately. 

"Oh, " she said, "it seemed hours while I was away from you! I was withEmily, and Emily says that perhaps I had better not eat plums--at leastnot more than one or two. "

"Then I'll pick out the ripest in the basket for you, " said Irene, hervoice trembling. 

"You take care there are no--no live things"----

"Hush, Hughie! Come with me, " said Rosamund; and she pulled thereluctant boy out of the summer-house. 

"Now, Hughie, " she said when she had got him quite by herself, "I wantto know, in the first instance, exactly how old you are. "

"I was fourteen my last birthday, " he said, drawing himself up to hisfull height. 

"You suppose yourself to be a good bit of a man, don't you?"

"Well, I'm not far from being a man, am I, Rosamund? You don't mind mycalling you Rosamund, do you?"

"You may call me anything in the world you please. "

"Well, I'll call you Rosamund, because all the rest of the people heredo; but by-and-by perhaps I shall be behind a counter, and you will comein and ask for stationery--I want particularly to go into a stationer'sshop--or any other article you fancy, and I'll have to say, 'Yes, miss. 'That is, unless you're married. You'll be much too grand to notice me inthose days, won't you, Rosamund?"

Rosamund turned and looked calmly at him. 

"Hugh, " she said, "I'll never be too grand to take notice of you if youturn out the sort of boy I expect you to be. "

"And what is that?" he asked, touched and astonished at her words. 

"Well, now, I want you to undertake a rather difficult office. "

"Oh, I say, and these are holidays!" grumbled the boy. 

"Nevertheless, even in holidays a true boy, who means to be a true man, will act according to the best of his abilities; and what I want you todo now is to help and not hinder me with regard to Irene. "

"That horrid, spiteful, handsome little witch?" said the boy. 

"You admit that she is handsome?"

"I should rather think so. I never saw such eyes or such a face. Butshe's a horrid little thing for all that. Last night I was in thepantry, and James told me a lot of things about her; how she used to getwasps to sting him, and how she frightened away such a lot of servantsfrom the place with leeches and toads, and all sorts of horrors. He saidhe didn't believe she was a girl at all, but that she was a sort ofhalf-witch; and she is having that effect now upon our dear littleAgnes, for Agnes doesn't care a bit for any one but her. She likes tospend all her time with her. She even insists on sleeping in her bed atnight, and poor old Emily never gets a sight of Agnes, nor do I; and ifit weren't for you I don't know where we'd be. "

"Well, I'm leaving to-morrow, " said Rosamund; "and it is just because Iam leaving--and I am forced to go--that I intend to put a trust in you. I intend to tell you all about Irene--there is no other way to manage aboy like you; but I intend to tell you in such a way that you must giveme your word of honor you will never repeat what I say. "

"You have a queer way of talking, " replied the lad, "and you do lookwonderfully handsome, and unlike any other girl I ever saw. Little Aggieis a poor sort, you know. She is very sweet and pretty, and gentle andeasily influenced. "

"She is a dear little soul, " said Rosamund, "and I don't wonder that youand your sister love her so much. "

"Of course we love her; that is just what I say to Em. Of course welove her, and I don't think it is right of Emily to spend all her timecrying. Her eyes are as red as anything. I never saw anything like it;and whenever she talks to me it is to say something of the way Agnes hasforsaken her; and Agnes is quite unsuspicious. "

"That is just it, and I want her to be unsuspicious. You must be kind topoor Frosty--forgive me, we always call her Frosty; but at the same timeshe must exercise the wonderful and healing influence she possesses overIrene. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"You see, Irene is a very fine character"----

Hugh whistled. 

"A fine character!" he said. "What about the toad in the bread-pan? Whatabout the horrid live things she made poor dear Emily swallow? If Em haddied, she'd have been had up for murder. "

"It was a cruel and wicked thing to do; but I am sure she would never doit now--that is, unless you goaded her to it. You are in the mood totorment her to do wrong things. It is exceedingly wicked of you, and Itell you plainly I don't know what I shall do if all my hard work of thewhole summer will be overthrown, unless you make me a solemn promisebefore I leave. "

"Well, it is good of you to trust me, " said Hughie, softening in spiteof himself, for such a bold, handsome, independent girl as Rosamund hadnever addressed him in such a way before; and, like all lads, he wassusceptible to a girl's influence. 

"I am at a horrid common school, " he grumbled. "All the fellows theresay horrid common things; but it is the best that poor old Em canafford, and I ought to be content. Some day I'll be a tradesman--not agentleman. But now Aggie and I are both staying here with gentry of thefirst class in every way, and you say you'll be my friend even if I am atradesman?"

"My hand on it, " said Rosamund suddenly; and she held out her littlewhite hand, which the boy grasped heartily. 

"Now then, " she continued, "I am going to tell you my story. "

She did tell it, very simply, describing her influence from the veryfirst over Irene, and contriving to put Irene's character intoaltogether a new light to the boy. 

"There is the making of a splendid woman in her, " she said; "but if youtaunt her now you will undo all the good that I have done. Instead ofdoing this, suppose you take my place when I am away, and help Frostynot to be jealous, and help Irene and Agnes to enjoy themselves. Justshow Irene that you are not a scrap afraid of her; but at the same timedo not rouse her passions. Will you do this, and for my sake? If so, Ido really believe all will be well. "

Hughie was amazed at his own sensations. 

"I declare, " he said, "you'd turn any fellow into a brick. If there weremore girls like you in the world I shouldn't be surprised if there werea lot of good men too; and the world could be oiled on all its hinges, so to speak, so that it wouldn't creak and jump and fret one at everyturn as it seems to have an unpleasant habit of doing at the presentmoment. "

"Will you promise, Hughie? I think you are the sort of boy who wouldkeep your word at any and all times. "

Hughie mumbled something that Rosamund took for a promise. In truth, hecould not raise his eyes to her face, for they were full of tears, whichhe was ashamed to show. 

"I wish you'd let me go away all by myself for a minute. I'll come backbefore lunch, " he said. "You make a fellow feel like a gentleman, andthat's the truth of it. "

Then he dashed out of sight among the flowers. 

Rosamund's last day at The Follies was spent in trying to soothe allparties. She tried to make Miss Frost rather less miserable. Hughie kepta good deal out of sight. Irene was so absorbed with Agnes--her new toy, as the servants called the little girl--that she did not even rememberthat Rosamund was to leave on the following day. 

But when the next morning came, and she saw the carriage arrive at thedoor, and perceived Rosamund's trunks being put on the roof, shesuddenly woke to the fact that the strong influence of her life duringthe last couple of months had come to a complete end; that Rosamund, thestrong, the vivacious, the daring, the noble, was leaving her. All in aminute even little Agnes seemed distasteful to the excited girl. Sheflew up to Rosamund's side and flung her arms round her neck. 

"Oh, you are going! You are going, and what is to become of me withoutyou?"

Rosamund drew her into a little room leading out of the hall. 

"Just one word, Irene, " she said. "I know you are very fond of Agnes, and you are behaving splendidly to her; but you will think of Miss Frostand of Hughie. You will write to me once or twice a week, and afterward, you know, it is settled that you and I are both to meet at theMerrimans', where we are to spend one term together. "

"Oh, dear, how am I to endure that?"

"You will endure it when I give you a piece of news. It is arranged thatlittle Agnes comes also, and"----

"Oh, have you settled that, you darling?"

"Partly. And Miss Frost comes, too, as they want another governess; andyour dear mother, who needs change, will spend the time with one of hersisters in Scotland. Now you know exactly what is before you, and I mustbe off. I trust you, Irene. You won't disappoint me? If I thought youcould, I don't really know what would become of me. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

A REAL ROUSING FRIGHT. 

Wonderful to relate, the holidays passed smoothly enough. Hughie was thesort of boy to be touched by Rosamund's words. No one had beforeappealed to him just in Rosamund's way. He found, too, considerablepleasure and interest on his own account at The Follies, for Lady Janewas singularly kind to him, and gave him a pony to ride, and he waspermitted the rare indulgence of going with the gamekeeper into thewoods to take his first lesson in partridge-shooting; but this camelater on. 

Meanwhile Miss Frost made a great effort to recover her self-control;but such an agony of jealousy had taken possession of the poor lady thatshe could scarcely bear to be in the society either of her pupil or herlittle sister. Irene exercised more and more influence over Agnes, andfor a long time that influence was altogether for good. When the childasked simple questions Irene replied simply. She felt ashamed of her ownwant of knowledge on many particulars. She went regularly to churchtwice every Sunday because little Agnes thought that no living personcould do otherwise. She did not at all want to go, and she trembled asmuch as ever when the choir sang, and when the place became hushed andpeople called themselves "miserable sinners, " and looked so unconcernedand so well-dressed. But for the sake of Agnes she restrained herself, for Agnes' little, pale, calm face appeared not to think at all aboutthe matter. 

Nevertheless, it was scarcely possible that such a cloudless state ofthings could continue. As to Hughie, he and Irene were more or lessneutral, neither speaking much to the other. They were both absolutelydifferent, but both were absolutely without fear. 

There came a day, however, when Irene took it into her wild little headthat Hughie needed a lesson to be taught him. 

"I know by his looks, " she thought, "that he hates my loving Agnes somuch. "

Accordingly, she made up her mind to administer a lesson, and to make itas stiff a piece of terrorism as she could devise. 

"He thinks he knows a great deal; but I'll teach him!" thought the girl. 

Some of her old wicked spirit had come back to her. She had no longerany lessons to employ her time; she had no longer Rosamund's wholesomeinfluence--Rosamund who was in Switzerland, and whose letters, delightful as they were, could not take the place of her constantpresence. 

The day was a sultry one toward the end of August. Miss Frost, pale anddejected, was seated in one of the arbors. She was doing someneedlework, and little Agnes was sitting on a low stool at her sister'sfeet. Miss Frost looked up when Irene suddenly entered. 

"I wonder, " she said, "if you and Agnes would go to town for me afterlunch? Mother says you may have the pony-trap and drive in. I want youto get"----

She produced a list of all sorts of materials, including a new doll forAgnes. 

"I want Agnes to have a doll, and a cradle to put it in at night, andshe shall make the clothes for it. Between you and me, we can show herhow. Would you like it, Agnes darling?"

"Oh, shouldn't I just love it!" said little Agnes. "Fancy my being yourbaby, and then having a baby of my own! Oh, it seems altogether toobeautiful! Isn't she sweet, Emily?"

Miss Frost looked with her nervous eyes at her pupil. Irene's own brighteyes looked back in reply. They were full of dancing mischief. 

"Mothery will give you some money to buy the necessary things, " shesaid. "I have spoken to her about it; indeed, she is going with you, andlunch is to be a quarter of an hour earlier. "

"But would you--would you, " said Miss Frost, who was trembling all overwith delight at the thought of having her beloved little sister all toherself for a whole afternoon--"wouldn't you like to keep Agnes? I wouldbuy the things for her. "

She felt herself very noble as she made this remark. 

"No, " said Irene, shaking her head. "No; I want Agnes to choose her owndoll. You can have a boy-dolly or a girl-dolly, " she said, "just as youplease. There is a beautiful shop at Dartford, in the High Street, whereyou can buy everything you want. It is called Millar's. You know allabout it, don't you, Frosty? Now, there is the luncheon-bell. "

The luncheon-bell sounded. Miss Frost, little Agnes, Irene, and the restof the party all assembled in the cool dining-room. 

Soon after lunch, Lady Jane, Agnes, and Miss Frost started for Dartford, and Irene turned and faced Hughie. 

"Hughie, " she said, "would you like to come for a row on the lake withme?"

"If you wish, " he replied. 

He had kept his promise to Rosamund so far. He had made no furtherinquiries with regard to Irene. He had tried, as he expressed it, towash his hands of her. He did not like her. He felt that he never couldlike her. There was something to him repugnant about her. He had a kindof uncanny feeling that she was a sort of changeling; that she could doextraordinary, defiant, and marvelous things. Now, as she looked full upat him, trying to steady her face, and trying to look as like anordinary girl as possible, he endeavored to conceal a queer sort of fearwhich stole suddenly over his heart. He remembered the old stories; theservants who shrank from her, the wild creatures that seemed to be herconstant companions, and the tricks she was capable of playing on anyone. 

"I will go with you, of course, " he said. "Do you want me to row?"

"No; I want you to sit in the stern and steer. Will you come? Just waita minute. I'll be ready in no time. "

She flew upstairs, and came down in the obnoxious red dress, which shehad not worn for such a long time. It made a queer change in her, givingher a more elf-like appearance than usual. 

"Why do you wear that? It isn't pretty, " said Hughie. 

"Never you mind whether it is pretty or not, " retorted Irene. 

"Well, I'll try not; but a fellow must make remarks. You know, you lookripping in your white dresses, and that silk thing you wear in theevening; but I don't like that. "

"Don't you? Well, I do. Anyhow, I'm going to wear it to-day while we arehaving our fun on the lake. It's just a perfect day for the lake. Do youknow, there's a storm coming on. "

As Irene spoke she fixed her bright eyes on the sky. It was blue overthe house; but in the distance, coming rapidly nearer and nearer, was aterrible black cloud--a cloud almost as black as ink--and already therewere murmurs in the trees and cawings among the birds, the breezegrowing stronger and stronger--the prelude to a great agitation ofnature. 

"I suppose we won't go on the lake to get drowned, " said Hughie. "Thatis a thunder-cloud. "

"Never mind; it will be all the greater fun. I am in my red dress, andyou can put on any shabby clothes you happen to have. If you are goingto be a counter-jumper you must have got some very shabby things. "

"Why do you speak to me in that tone?" said Hughie. 

"Oh, I don't know. I didn't mean anything. You can put on anything youlike, and you needn't come if you don't want to; but I thought you werea plucky sort of chap. "

"You may be quite sure I am. Of course I will come with you. Let us rundown to the boat-house. Perhaps, " continued Hughie, struggling with thepromise he had made to Rosamund, "the storm may go off in anotherdirection, and we sha'n't have it. "

"I see you are awfully afraid of it, and it mayn't come here at all, "said Irene, who knew perfectly well that it would, for the cloud wascoming more and more in the direction of the house each moment. 

In a very short time the two children were in the boat, Irene takingboth the oars, and giving Hughie simple directions to steer straight forthe stream in the middle of the lake. 

"Now I will give him a real rousing fright, " she said to herself. "Afterthat perhaps he will be my slave, the same as Carter was. Anyhow, I havea crow to pluck with him; and the storm, and my knowledge of the water, and his absolute ignorance will enable me to win the day. "

Aloud, she said in a gentle voice, "Perhaps you'd like to take theoars?"

"I will if you like, " said Hughie; "but the fact is, I'm not very goodat rowing. I have never been much in a boat. "

"Ah! I thought as much. But I can teach you. Come and sit here. "

They had just entered the stream, which made the lake dangerous even ona calm day. Hughie stumbled to his feet; Irene sat in the stern, tookthe ropes, and skillfully guided the boat into the centre of the stream. It began to rock tremendously. 

"Now pull! Pull hard!" she said to the boy. 

Just then a blinding flash of lightning came across their faces. 

"Oh!" said Hughie, "the storm is on us. It will rain in a few minutes. Hadn't we better get back?"

"What a coward you are!" said Irene. "It is the most awful fun to be outon the lake in a storm like this. Ah! do you hear that growl?"

"But I can't manage the boat a bit. "

"I thought all boys could manage boats. You don't expect a girl to doit--a girl out in the midst of a storm of this sort? Besides, I must putup my umbrella or I shall be soaked. "

"But I told you it would rain. You shouldn't have come out, " saidHughie, who felt more annoyed, distressed, and angry than he had everfelt in his life before. He felt that suddenly the boat was quiteunmanageable, that it was rocking and racing and taking them he did notknow where. 

All of a sudden Irene sprang to her feet. 

"Get back into the stern, " she said. "Sit quite still, and let me takethe oars. I wanted to see if you could row. I see you can't. There isanother flash of lightning. Don't be frightened. I know you are; but tryto keep it under. I have something to say to you. "

She seated herself, and the two children faced each other. The flash oflightning was followed by a crashing peal of thunder. The trees bowedlow to meet the gale; the frightened birds, the swans and others, tookshelter where they could best find it; but as yet there was not a dropof rain. 

"How hot it is!" said Irene. "Let us fly down the stream. "

"What do you mean by that?" said Hughie, whose freckled face was deadlywhite. 

"I will tell you if you like; but don't speak. "

He looked at her with fascinated eyes. In her red dress, with herwitch-like face and glancing, dancing, naughty eyes, she became to himfor the moment an object of absolute terror. Was this the gentle andexceedingly pretty girl whom little Agnes so adored? He was alone withher, and they were, so to speak, flying through the water, although shescarcely touched the oars, allowing them to lie almost idle by her side. 

Suddenly she shipped them and bent toward him. 

"We needn't row any more, " she said. "We are in the current. The currentwill take us. Hughie, can you swim?"

"I don't know anything about swimming, " he said. 

"Well, that is rather bad for you; for in about five minutes of thissort of thing we go right down the cascade at the end of the lake andamong the breakers. The boat will be upset, and you will have to fightfor your life, unless I choose to save you. I could save you, for I haveperfect control of myself in the water. "

"But you don't mean to say you are going to do anything of that sort!Can't we get into the calmer part of the lake? I don't understand you, "said Hughie. 

"But I understand you. You don't like me, and I don't like you. From thevery first you have been disagreeable. I like your little sister, butyou don't want me to like her. "

"Well, I think you are a bit rough on old Em, " was Hughie's remark. 

"What a flash that was!" said Irene; and her eyes danced with cruelpleasure. "Ah! here comes the rain. "

A terrific hail-shower drenched the two children as they sat within therocking boat. For the first time in her life Irene was really slightlyfrightened. Had she dared too much? Even she might not be able to getthe boat out of the current just at present; and if she did not, andthey really got among the breakers and over the cascade in the presentstorm, it might be beyond her power to save Hughie. As to herself, shewas not at all afraid. She felt she could swim through anything and overanything; but she was not certain that she could swim and support a boyso big and strong as Hughie. 

Then there rose before her vision the face of Rosamund--Rosamund's facewith its noble expression, its clear, steadfast, dark eyes--Rosamundwith her ringing voice. Oh, what influence for good she had exercisedover Irene's wild, worthless, almost terrible life, and yet she wasdisobeying all her precepts now, and frightening poor Hughie almost todeath!

"I tell you what it is, " she said in a husky voice; "we will both try toget out of this current if you will make me a promise. "

"It seems to me that I am spending my whole life in making promises, "said Hughie. "But I will make any promise if that will help you now. Oh, what a flash that was! I expect we shall both be struck by thelightning. "

"I suppose that doesn't matter. I suppose you are not afraid to die, areyou?"

"I haven't thought of it, " said the boy. "People of fourteen don't thinkmuch about dying, do they? But I don't think I'd be specially afraid. Itmight be a sort of relief to poor old Em to have only one of us tokeep. But for you there is your mother and little Agnes. "

"Yes; I wouldn't like to die on account of little Agnes, " replied Irenevery gravely. "I love her just as though she were my own little child. "

"Well, I am her brother. I suppose you ought to be pleasant to mebecause I happen to be her brother, and Emily happens to be her sister, "retorted the lad. 

"That is true enough. I will tell you why I did this. I brought you outinto the current to test your courage. If I do nothing, if we both sitstill as we are now, in all probability you will be drowned; but if youwill exert yourself and help me with all your might and main, then Iwill respect you as a truly courageous person, and perhaps we'll bebetter friends than we have hitherto been. "

"What do you want me to do? I will do anything, " said the boy. 

"Well, look here. I will take one oar and you take the other, and wemust get out of this current whatever happens. As soon as we are out ofit we are safe. Oh, never mind the lightning, and don't listen to thethunder. "

"It almost blinds me, " said Hughie, passing his hand across his eyes ashe spoke, dazzled by the vividness of the ever-increasing storm. Irenegave him strict directions. 

"You are strong, " she said. "When you see me pull, you must pull, too, and you must be very quick, for the nearer we get to the cascade theswifter runs the current. On a calm day I could save you, there wouldn'tbe a bit of fear; but on a rough day, in a storm like this, I mightn'tbe able to manage it. Now then, a strong pull, and a pull all together!"

The boy obeyed her directions. Whatever she might have thought of him aminute ago, he was indeed no coward. He pulled with all his might andmain. Irene did likewise, and in a few minutes' time they were out ofthe dangerous current, in smooth water. But it was a close shave, andthe girl's hands trembled and for a minute she dropped her oar. 

"Never mind, " she said to Hughie. 

"But you look as white as death, just as though you would faint. Didthat last flash touch your hair? It seemed to me that it was almost hoton my cheeks. "

"No, it wasn't that; and the storm is going off, " said Irene. "Somehow Iam ashamed of myself. I oughtn't to have been so mean. "

"Please tell me. "

"I have tested you, and you are brave. You are not a coward like poorCarter. "

"Who is Carter?"

"A governess I once had. I took her on to the lake, and into the centralcurrent, and she was in such terror! I wanted her to go away, and Iwouldn't get out of the current, however hard she implored. But Ipromised to save her when we got among the breakers if only she would goafterward. She promised, and I did save her, and she is all right now;and Frosty--your dear Emily, I mean--and she are the best of friends. And I am friendly with her, too. I have been much better lately--muchbetter since dear Rosamund came--only somehow I felt that you defied me, and I wanted to test you. I have tested you, and I respect you, for youweren't really frightened that time, and you did row all right. What astrong arm you have! I wish I had an arm like that. "

Hughie colored with absolute pleasure. 

"You are a plucky un, " he said; "but I didn't know that you reallywanted to drown me. "

"Of course I didn't want to drown you. I knew a storm was coming on, and that it would be very rough in the current to-day, and I wanted totest you; and you have proved worthy of the test, and we are in safewater now. The storm is dying away, too; and shall it be _pax_? Shall webe friends for the remainder of your stay at The Follies?"

"I think you are a splendid girl, although you are quite the queerest Iever came across, " said the boy. 

"And you are awfully plucky. Now, I tell you what it is. Mothery and Iwill do our best to make you a gentleman by and by. You won't be tooproud if mother and I help Frosty--your Emily, as you call her--to makeyou into something better than a counter-jumper?"

"Would you indeed?" he asked, his eyes glowing, and the color cominginto his cheeks. "You know, I always hated the thought of it, for mypeople were gentry. My mother was such a refined woman, something likesweet little Agnes, and it always cut me to the very heart to think thatI was going down in the social scale. "

"You sha'n't, " said Irene. And now the pair, dripping wet, landed at thelittle landing-stage. 

Hughie helped Irene to put the boat into the boat-house, and then theystood there together until the storm died away, and the rain had ceased, and the birds were singing once more. Then they silently shook handseach with the other, without uttering a word. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

NOT A COUNTER-JUMPER. 

The holidays came to an end on the whole satisfactorily. Irene was by nomeans perfect; even Agnes showed signs of being spoiled owing to the new_régime_. Hughie expressed a strong desire to be back at school. MissFrost never ceased to watch the two, and the struggle within her breastdid not die out. Lady Jane alone was thankful for the marked improvementin her child. Not that she saw very much of Irene, for Irene and Agneswere together almost all day long; Agnes the petted darling of the eldergirl, Irene yielding to her every whim, delighting in the daring spiritwhich slowly but surely began to awaken in the little one. Nevertheless, the servants were unmolested, Miss Frost had a peaceful time, Lady Janebegan to breathe freely, and even Hughie turned to other occupations andmore or less forgot Irene and his little sister. He had never told anyone of that awful time which he had spent with Irene in the boat. Thatsecret he kept confined within his own breast; but he never could forgetit; the moment when his young manhood seemed to forsake him, when thespirit of cowardice arose before him, and he felt certain that he shoulddie; the longing which arose to his lips to implore Irene at any cost tosave him; the way he kept back the words. Then her test and hisacceptance of it, the victory he had really won over her, the knowledgethat in the future she would treat him with respect. 

Irene, with all her faults, was true to her word, and one day just whenthe long summer holidays were coming to an end, and when every one wastalking and thinking again of school life and school affairs, and itsjoys and sorrows, Irene went and sat down on a low stool by her mother'sside. 

"You are sending me next week to the Merrimans', " she said. "I don't atall know whether I shall be able to endure it. You think me greatlyimproved, but I don't know that I am improved. Be that as it may, however, I want to ask you a great favor, mothery. "

"What is that, my darling?" asked Lady Jane. 

"You, of course, mean to go away. Rosamund said that you would. She saidyou would take a rest, and forget all the worries that your naughty, naughty child has given you all these years. You will do that, won'tyou, mothery darling?"

"Yes, I will go away, " said Lady Jane. "I have arranged it. But what isyour request, Irene?"

"Well, it has something to do with Hughie. You know about Miss Frost?"

"I know she is an excellent creature. "

"She is; and you know how fond I am of little Agnes. "

"No wonder. She is a sweet little soul, " said Lady Jane; "although, sometimes, Irene"----

"Please don't!" said Irene, putting her hand to her mother's lips. "Ihave made a resolution. Agnes is to be my child in the future. She is tolive with me always and always, mother. I couldn't do without her. Sheis my doll, my baby, my plaything--the creature that keeps me human. With Rosamund on one side and Agnes on the other, I can be good, mothery. But if you were to take either or both of them away, I shouldbe worse than ever. Miss Frost must give Agnes up to me. "

"I don't think she will be able to stand that. I don't see how you canexpect it. "

"Well, I do expect it, and I don't mean to discuss the point now. Agnescomes with me, does she not, to Mrs. Merriman's school?"

"She does. Rosamund's mother is paying for her during this term. "

"And Miss Frost goes, too?"

"Yes, dear, certainly. "

"Well, now, there is Hughie. Miss Frost says that she cannot give himthe education sufficient to make a gentleman of him. But, mother, he isa nice boy--he is, really. "

"He is quite a plain boy, " said Lady Jane--"very different from hislittle sister--a little rough, I call him. "

"But he is quite nice, all the same. Anyhow, mother, I wish it--I wanthim to be made a gentleman. I want him to be sufficiently educated, andI want us to help Miss Frost. We needn't take all the burden off hershoulders, for I know you pay her very well indeed; but I want him to beleft at school until he is old enough to take up some profession. Idon't know what he would like. I'll run and ask him now; may I?"

"But, first of all, let me consider. Why should I have this on me? Ihave--although you never seem to remember it, you naughty littleIrene--a great many expenses. "

"Yes, but you are rich, and I am your only child. I want Hughie, justbecause he is Agnes's brother, to be a gentleman. Agnes's brother can'tbe a counter-jumper, can he, mothery?"

"What a horrid expression! Where did you learn it, Irene?"

"Oh, I picked it up from one of the servants; her cousin was acounter-jumper. She always made me laugh when she spoke about it. Shedescribed how he doled out yards of ribbon, and she said that hisfigure was all gone to nothing, but he was very genteel-looking. I usedto make her tell me about him, because I used to frighten her withspiders and wasps if she didn't. But I don't do that sort of thing now. I'll take to it again, though, if you don't do what I wish. "

"Then I am sure I will do what you wish, although I am rather puzzled. "

"Well, we'll settle it, and at once, " said Irene. 

She ran out of the room and met Miss Frost, who was crossing the hall. 

"Frosty, " said the little girl, going up to her governess, "I want toask you a question. How much money do you pay a year for Hughie'sschooling?"

Miss Frost turned painfully red. 

"That is scarcely your affair, is it, Irene?" she said. 

"I am not naughty, really; I want to know for a most serious, importantreason. Do you pay much, or do you pay little?"

"I pay what is really very little. I pay fifty pounds a year. It is nota good school, but it is the best I can afford. It is a commercialschool. I trust to get Hughie a place in a shop when he is sixteen--thatis, in two years' time. I think I can manage his school for thepresent. "

"Thank you, Miss Frost. That is all I need. "

Irene then went out, and whistling in a boyish fashion, presentlybrought Hughie to her side. He was quite at home with her now, andwalked willingly along the gravel path listening as she spoke to him. 

"Hughie, you know the promise I made to you?"

"Yes, I know, " he said, his eyes dancing. "I am to be a gentleman. Yousaid so. "

"You are; but I must know all about it. Your sister pays fifty pounds ayear to keep you at school. "

"It's an awfully low sort of place, " said the boy. "I mean the fellowsthere aren't gentlemen, and it is frightfully difficult to be agentleman when no one else is. "

"Well, it ought not to be. A gentleman ought to be a gentleman througheverything, " said Irene. "However, that is not the point. Whatprofession would you like best if, supposing you were rich, you couldhave your choice?"

"I'd like best in all the world, " said Hughie, "to be educated to becomea lawyer--I mean a barrister. But there's no chance of that. I likearguing and disputing, and proving that other people are wrong, morethan anything else in the world. "

"You are not particularly amiable, Hughie, " said Irene, with a laugh;"but I think I understand. "

"Well, that is all right. Have you anything more to say?"

"Not just at present, only I want to speak to mother. "

Lady Jane was sitting just where Irene had left her. Irene went and laidher head on her mother's lap. 

"Frosty pays fifty pounds a year, " she said, "and it's a horridcommercial school, so we'll have to pay a quarter's fees, for I thinkthat is what is done generally, and Hughie must go to a proper school atonce--a really good one--and we will pay the difference between a reallygood school and Frosty's fifty pounds. Then, if Hughie is clever andgets a scholarship, he can go to one of the 'Varsities, and afterward hemust study for the Bar. You see, I have read up all about it, and Iknow. You must help me to do it, mother. I dare say he will make a veryclever barrister, for he looks quite disagreeable enough to be so. "

Lady Jane struggled against Irene's whim. But Irene, as she knew quitewell, had the victory; for the next morning there was a seriousconversation with Miss Frost, who left Lady Jane's presence in floods ofgrateful tears, the result of which was that Hughie was sent to afirst-class school on the very day that Rosamund, Irene, Agnes, and MissFrost went to the Merrimans'. 

"Now, indeed, the world is beginning to go in the right direction, " saidIrene, who considered herself one of the most important people in thewhole of creation. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

AT SCHOOL AGAIN. 

It is a curious fact that there are some weak but loving people who arenot loved in return. If they are sincere and honest they always inspirerespect. If they are at the same time unselfish, that noble quality mustalso tell in the long run. But to look at them is not to love them, andconsequently they go through life with a terrible heart-longing unknownto their fellow-men, only known to the God above, who will doubtlessreward these simple and earnest and remarkably beautiful souls in Hisown good time in another world. 

Such a person was Emily Frost. She was very patient, very brave, veryunselfish; but no one particularly cared for her. She knew this quitewell; she had a passionate hunger for love, but it was not bestowed uponher. She was well educated and could teach splendidly, but she couldnever arouse enthusiasm in her pupils. A far less highly educated womancould do twice the amount poor Miss Frost could ever achieve, simplybecause she possessed the gift denied to the latter. 

Now, Agnes Frost was much of the same temperament as her half-sister. She also was timid, easily frightened, very easily subdued, butsympathetic, loving, and unselfish. Agnes, however, had the great powerof inspiring love in all those with whom she came in contact. Miss Frostherself worshiped that little delicate and beautiful face, those sweetlips, that tender and dainty form. She felt she could almost die for thechild. But the child, although she loved her half-sister, did not loveher in the passionate way that Miss Frost desired. Irene was the firstperson to whom Agnes had given all her strong powers of affection. ForIrene she would have done anything. She did not care nearly so much forRosamund, although she admired her, and Rosamund herself was drawn tothe child and attracted by her. Agnes had been perfectly happy while atThe Follies; never a fear had she of the much-dreaded Irene. It is trueshe had not heard the dreadful stories of the toads and wasps andleeches; but whether she heard them or not, it would be difficult now toremove her affection from the girl who adored her, and whom she inreturn so worshiped. 

Miss Frost looked on, tried to be satisfied, tried to believe thatRosamund was right when she told her that nothing in all the world couldhappen more advantageously for little Agnes' future; but neverthelessshe carried an unhealed sore at her heart. 

This was the state of things when the three girls arrived at theMerrimans'. The house had truly been swept and garnished. The room whereJane had been ill was re-papered and painted, the place lookedspick-and-span and beautiful, and Mrs. Merriman came out with a smilingface to welcome the arrival of the party from The Follies. 

"Welcome back, my dear!" she said to Rosamund, kissing heraffectionately, and just as though there had never been any ill-feelingbetween them. "How are you, you dear little thing?" she said, addressingAgnes in that petting tone which almost all women assumed toward her. "How do you do?" she said more stiffly to Miss Frost. 

Then she turned and addressed Miss Archer, who happened to be not faraway. 

"Miss Archer, " she said, "this is our new teacher, who will assist youin every possible way. Will you take her to her room now? And Rosamund, you know where to find yours. Irene and Agnes are to sleep in the sameroom, and it is next to yours. You can go upstairs, therefore, all ofyou, and get tidy for supper--at which you will meet the rest of yourschool-fellows, Rosamund. "

Rosamund smiled; she had come back from her holidays in Switzerlandfeeling very brave and determined to do what was right. She felt thatshe was a sort of person who had begun a crusade. Her crusade wasagainst the crudities, the cruelties, and naughty conduct of one littlegirl of the name of Irene Ashleigh; but she had little idea how complexwas the task set her, and how difficult it would be even now to performit. Nevertheless, she was feeling courageous and happy for the timebeing; and if Lucy Merriman had not belonged to the school soeffectually and so thoroughly as to make it impossible to have anyschool at all without her, Rosamund might have been perfectly happy atSunnyside. As it was, she knew she would have a hard fight with herselfin the midst of her present surroundings. 

Irene took her hand affectionately, guessing little of her thoughts. 

"Do come and show us round, Rosamund, " she said. "I know Aggie is tired. Aren't you, darling?"

"Oh, no, " said Agnes. "I'd like to go out presently and have a walk allalone with you, Irene. "

"Then of course you shall, dear. "

"But there's no time to-night, " said Rosamund. "We have barely time toget our things unpacked and get ready for supper. You know this isschool, and I told you what school meant. "

"You did, " said Irene, raising her bright, wild eyes to her companion'sface; "but I confess I had forgotten it. This house seems like any otherhouse, only not so handsome. It isn't nearly as big as The Follies, andthe people don't seem so rich; and I have seen fat Mrs. Merriman all mylife driving about with the cob and the governess-cart; and I have seenProfessor Merriman, too, with his bent back and long hair. But I neverchanced to come across Lucy except that time in church, and then Ithought her horrible. Why should I alter my plans because of theMerrimans? I don't intend to do it. "

"You must, Irene. You promised me that you would try to be good. Come, look at Agnes. "

Agnes was gazing up at her chosen companion, at the girl she loved bestin the world, with wonder in her dark eyes. It was not a reproving lookthose eyes wore; it was a sweet, astonished, and yet slightly painedgaze. It conquered Irene on the spot. She bent down and kissed thelittle one. 

"You never thought I should be naughty, did you?" said Irene, loweringher voice. 

"You couldn't! you couldn't! You are the best girl in all the world, "whispered Agnes. 

"Then I will make a tremendous effort to be good for your sake. "

These words were also said in a whisper, and by this time the girls hadreached their own room, which they were to share together. A door openedinto Rosamund's room, and thus the three who were to be so closelyunited during the greater part of their lives were more or less in thesame apartment. 

"It does seem strange not to have dear Jane Denton here, " said Rosamund;"but she seems to be still so delicate that she won't come back toschool this term. Now, shall I help you to unpack, Irene? And shall Ihelp you to put on a pretty frock for supper? I want you to look as niceas possible. All the girls are just dying to see you. "

At that moment there came a knock at Rosamund's door. Rosamund flew toopen it. Laura Everett stood without. 

"So you have come back, Rosamund! How glad I am to see you! May I comein?"

"If you don't mind, not for a few minutes, " said Rosamund. "May I have achat with you after supper, or one day after lessons?"

"Of course to-night. We can walk about in the corridors if it is toocold to go out-of-doors. But is it absolutely true--I only heard it as awhisper--that you have brought Irene Ashleigh, the terror of theneighborhood, here?"

"She will be a terror no longer if you will all be kind to her, " saidRosamund. "I have a great deal to say to you; but don't keep me now. Shehas come, and so has dear little Agnes Frost, and--oh! do ask the othergirls to be kind, and not to take any special notice. You will, won'tyou?"

"I'm sure I'd do anything for you, " said Laura. "I think you weresplendid all through. I cannot tell you how I have admired you, and howI spoke to mother about you in the holidays; and mother said that thoughyou had not done exactly right, yet you were the finest girl she hadever heard of or come across, and she was very glad to think that youand I might be in a sort of way friends. "

"Well, let us be real friends, " said Rosamund affectionately. "Now, don't keep me any longer. I have as much as I can do to get my coupleready to make a respectable appearance at supper. "

Laura ran off to inform her school-fellows that the noted, the terribleIrene was in very truth a pupil at Mrs. Merriman's school. The girls, ofcourse, had heard that Irene was coming, and that Rosamund had beenforgiven, and, notwithstanding her disobedience, was returning to theschool. But although they believed the latter part of thisintelligence, they doubted the former, thinking it quite impossible thatany sane people would admit such a character as Irene into their midst. But when Laura came downstairs and told her news, the girls looked upwith more or less interest in their faces. 

Annie Millar, who was Laura's special friend, said that she was glad. 

"She needn't suppose that I'll be afraid of her, " said Annie. 

"And she needn't think that I'll be afraid of her, " said Phyllis Flower. "She may try her toads and her wasps if she likes on me; but she won'tfind they have much effect. "

"Oh, do stop talking!" said Laura. "Can't you understand that if Ireneis to be a good girl we must not bring things of that sort up to her? Ibelieve she will be good, and I think Rosamund is just splendid. Yes, Lucy, what did you say?"

Now, Lucy had up to the present been one of Laura's great friends. Theirmothers had been friends in the old days, and the clever, bright, intelligent Laura suited Lucy to perfection. But Lucy had imbibed allthe traditions with regard to the willful Irene, and was horrified atthe thought of having her now in the school. She was also angry atRosamund's being reinstated; in short, she was by no means in a goodtemper. She thought herself badly treated that the news of the advent ofthese two young people had been kept from her, and was not speciallymollified when her mother came into the room and told her that herfather wished to speak to her for a minute or two in his study. 

The girl ran off without a moment's delay, and entering the study, wentstraight up to the Professor, who, gentle, patient as of old, laid hishand on her shoulder. 

"Well, Lucy, " he said, "and so school begins, and the old things resumetheir sway. "

"I don't think they do, " retorted Lucy. "It seems to me that they aregiving place to new. Why is it, father, that a girl whom you expelledhas come back again to our dear little select, very private school? Andwhy has she brought the very naughtiest girl in the whole neighborhoodto be her companion?"

"I can only tell you this in reply, Lucy: Rosamund, although she wasnaughty, was also noble. "

"That is impossible, " said Lucy, with a toss of her head. 

"It is difficult for you to understand; but it is the case. She wasactuated by a brave motive, and has done a splendid work. I confess Iwas very angry with her at the time; but dear Mr. Singleton--such aChrist-like man as he is--opened my eyes, and told me what a marvelouseffect Rosamund was having on little Irene Ashleigh, whom every one wasafraid of, and who was in consequence being absolutely ruined. It was atSingleton's request that I reinstated Rosamund in the school, and it wasfurther at his request and that of Lady Jane Ashleigh that I decided notto part the two girls, but to allow them to come here for at least aterm. So Rosamund and Irene are both members of the school, and I desireyou, Lucy, as my daughter, not to repeat to any of your fellow-pupilsthe stories you may have heard in the past with regard to Irene. Idesire you to be kind to her, and if you cannot be friends with her, atleast to leave her alone. You have your own friends, Laura Everett"----

"Oh, Laura has already gone over to the enemy, " said Lucy. "Why, she wastalking and preaching as hard as ever she could just now, when mothercame in and said that you wanted me. "

"Well, my dear, I did want to speak to you. I wanted to say just what Ihave said. You will attend to my instructions. You understand?"

"I understand, father, " said Lucy; and she left the study with her fairhead slightly bent. 

There was a puzzled expression on her face. What was the meaning of itall? Never in her life, which would soon extend to sixteen years, hadLucy Merriman consciously done a wrong action. She had always beenobedient to her parents; she had always been careful and prim, and, asshe considered, thoughtful for others. She adored her father and mother. She herself had been willing to sacrifice her position as a happy onlygirl to become a member of the school, just to help her father out ofhis difficulties, and to enable his health to be restored, and now shewas reprimanded because she could not see that wrong was right. What wasthe matter with Rosamund? Who could consider her conduct in any otherbut the one way? And yet here was Mr. Singleton inducing her father tooverlook her fault. 

"I felt dissatisfied when father expelled her, " thought the girl. "Butnow he has taken her back again; and that awful ogre, that terror, hascome here. What does it all mean? It's enough to turn a good girlnaughty; that's all I've got to say. "

There was a pretty sort of winter parlor where the girls always waiteduntil the meals were served. Lucy re-entered it now, and found most ofher companions waiting for her. She was scarcely there a moment beforethe gong sounded, and at the same instant Rosamund, followed by Irene, who was holding little Agnes's hand, entered the room. 

Now, report had said a great deal in disfavor of Irene Ashleigh. She wasthe queer girl who wore the unkempt red dress, who did the strangest, wildest, maddest things, who terrified her governesses, who was cruel tothe servants, who made her mother's life one long misery. But reporthad never mentioned that there was a charm in her wild face, in thosespeaking eyes; and that the same little figure clothed in the simplest, prettiest white could look almost angelic. No, angelic was hardly theword. Perhaps charming suited her better. Beyond doubt she wasbeautiful, with a willowy, wild grace which could not but arrestattention, and all the other girls immediately owned to a sense ofinferiority in her presence. But Irene was so endowed with nature'sgrace that she could not do an awkward thing; and then the child whoaccompanied her, the small unimportant child, was as beautiful in herway as Irene was in hers. So charming a pair did they make, those two, each of them dressed in the purest white, that Rosamund, who wasconsidered quite the handsomest girl in the school, seemed to sink intocommonplace in comparison. But no one had time to make any remark. 

Irene said lightly, "Oh, so you are the others!" and then nodded to oneand all; and turning to Agnes, she said in a low tone, "These are therest of the girls, Aggie; and I'm ever so hungry. Aren't you, Aggie?"

Mrs. Merriman came in and conducted her young group to the room wheresupper was laid out, and here the first cross occurred to disturbIrene's good temper; for Agnes was placed at the other side of thetable, between Phyllis Flower and Agnes Sparkes. Agnes Sparkes wasbending toward her and talking in her lively way. She was remarking onthe similarity of their names, and little Agnes was looking up at herolder companion and smiling back, not at all frightened; for, as shesaid to herself, people were so kind to her. 

Miss Frost, anxious, pale, and miserable, was watching her treasure asshe gave a little bit of her heart, at least, first to one girl and thento another, and poor Miss Frost's face looked anything but inviting. Her nose was red, her cheeks pinched and hollow, her eyes somewhat dim. She felt inclined to cry. 

Rosamund, however, boldly asked Laura Everett to change places with her, and sat next to Irene. 

"Why have they taken Agnes away?" said Irene. "I don't like it. I have agreat mind to walk round the table and to snatch her away from those twohorrid creatures at the other end, and to bring her to us. Why shouldn'tshe sit between us? I know she wishes it, poor little darling!"

"We had better leave her alone for the present, Irene; supper won't takelong. Don't take any notice. I'll ask Mrs. Merriman to let Agnes sitnext to you in future; but don't make a fuss now. "

"I hate being good. I don't think I can stand it, " said Irene in a mostrebellious tone. And then she scowled at Miss Frost in quite her oldferocious way, so that the governess looked more anxious and unhappythan ever. But this was nothing to the scowl she presently gave LucyMerriman. She fixed her bright eyes on Lucy's face, and not only a frowncame between her brows, but the frown was succeeded by a mocking laugh, and then she said in a low tone, which yet was clear as a bell, "I sawyou in church one Sunday, and you frightened me so much that I had to goout. "

This remark was so strange and unexpected that most of the girls gaveutterance to a nervous laugh; but Professor Merriman raised his voice. 

"Irene, " he said, "that is not at all a polite thing to say. I must havea little talk with you when supper is over, for you are not to sayunkind things to your neighbors, or of them, as long as you are in myhouse. "

The firmness of his voice and the dignity of his bearing had a slighteffect on Irene. Rosamund began to talk rapidly to her on differentsubjects, and by and by the meal came to an end. 

That evening nothing very extraordinary occurred; but Irene, withoutwaiting for any one, rushed down to the room and seized little Agnes'shand. 

"Come, Agnes, " she said, "it is time for you to go to bed. "

"I am the person who has charge of putting the little ones to bed, " saidMiss Frost, going up and speaking in a trembling tone. 

"You may put all the other little ones to bed, as far as I amconcerned, " said Irene; "but you don't put my Agnes to bed. "

"But she is my Agnes, too. "

"No; she is mine. Agnes, say at once that you belong altogether to me;that you are my darling, my doll, my baby. "

"I do love you, " said little Agnes; "but of course I love Emily, too--dear old Emily!"

She laid her hand on her elder sister's arm and looked up affectionatelyinto her face. 

"I thought, Irene, I said I wished to speak to you, " remarked theProfessor then; and before Irene could reply he had taken her hand andled her into the study. 

He made her sit down, and seated himself opposite to her. 

"Now, my dear, " he said, "you are going to be under my roof for a fewweeks. The term as a rule lasts about twelve weeks--that is, threemonths. "

"An eternity--impossible to live through it, " said Irene. 

"I hope you may not find it an eternity; but, anyhow, it is arrangedthat you are to stay here, and during that time you must be subjected tothe rules of discipline. "

"What is discipline?" said Irene. 

"One of the rules of discipline is to obey those put in command ofyou. "

"In command of me? But there is no one in command of me!"

"I am in command of you, and so is my wife, and so are your threegovernesses. "

"And what do you mean to do now that you are in command of me?"

"I, for one, hope to help you, Irene, to be a good girl. "

"I think, " said Irene steadily, "that I'd rather be a naughty girl. WhenI was at The Follies I used to do what dear Rosamund wished; and thensweet little Agnes came, and she loved me, and I loved her and did kindthings for her, and I felt ever so much better; but I am not at allbetter at your horrid school. "

"Did any one ever happen to punish you, Irene?"

"Punish me?" said Irene, opening her eyes. 

"Yes, punish you. "

"Well, no. I don't think anybody would try to do it a second time. "

"I don't wish to punish you, my dear child. " The Professor rose and tookone of Irene's little hands. "I want to help you, dear--to help you withall my might and main. I know you are different from other girls. "

"Yes, " said Irene, speaking in her old wild strain; "I am a changeling. That's what I am. "

"Nevertheless, dear--we won't discuss that--you have a soul within youwhich can be touched, influenced. All I ask of you is to obey certainrules. One of them is that you do not say unkind things about yourfellow-pupils. Now, you spoke very unkindly to my daughter at supperto-night. "

"I don't like her, " said Irene bluntly. 

"But that doesn't alter the fact that she is my daughter and one of yourschool-fellows. "

"Well, I can't like her if I can't. You don't want me to be dishonestand tell lies, do you?"

"No, but I want you to be courteous; and ill-feelings are always wrong, and can be mastered if we apply ourselves in the right spirit. I must, therefore, tell you, Irene, that the next time I hear you speak, or itis reported to me that you speak, unkindly of any of yourschool-fellows, and if you perform any naughty, cowardly, childishtricks, you will have to come to me, and--I don't quite know what Ishall be obliged to do, but I shall have a talk with you, my dear. Now, that is enough for the present. "

"Thank you, " said Irene, turning very red, and immediately leaving theroom. 

The Professor sighed when she had gone. 

"How are we ever to manage her?" he said to himself. 

In truth, he had not the least idea. Irene was not the sort of girl whocould be easily softened, even by a nature as gentle and kind andpatient as his. She required firm measures. Nevertheless, he had made adeeper impression than he had any idea of; and when the little girl wentup to her room presently, and saw that Agnes was in bed, but wide awakeand waiting ready to fling her arms tightly round her companion's neck, some of the sore feeling left her heart. 

"Oh, Aggie, I have you! and you will never, never love that other horridAgnes, or that dreadful Phyllis, or that hateful Lucy, or any of thegirls in the school as you love me. "

"Oh, indeed, I never could, Irene--I never could!" said little Agnes. "But you don't mind Em putting me to bed, do you, for it makes her sohappy? Her hands were quite trembling with joy, and she said she had notbeen so happy for a long time. "

"Well, she is your sister, and she's a good old sort. But, Agnes, howare we to live in this school? Tell me, can you endure it?"

"I was at another school, and this one seems perfectly beautiful, " saidlittle Agnes. "I think all the girls are quite nice. "

"You had better not begin to praise them overmuch, or I shall bejealous. "

"What is being jealous?" said the little girl. 

"Why, just furious because somebody cares for you, or even pretends tocare for you. I don't want anybody to love you but myself. "

"I don't think I should quite like that, " said little Agnes. "Though Ihave promised to love you best, I should like others to be kind to me. "

"There you are, with your sweet little eyes full of tears, and I havecaused them! But I'm dead-tired myself. Anyhow, it will only last fortwelve weeks--truly an eternity, but an eternity which has an end. Shallwe sleep in one bed to-night, Agnes? I won't be a moment undressing. Will you come and cuddle close to me, and let me put my arms round youand feel that you are my own little darling?"

"Yes, indeed, I should love it!" said little Agnes. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

GUNPOWDER IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP. 

Miss Archer was a most splendid director of a school. She was the sortof woman who could read girls' characters at a glance; and as her objectwas to spare Mrs. Merriman all trouble, and as she was now furtherhelped by Miss Frost, a most excellent teacher herself, and MademoiselleOmont took the French department, there was very little trouble inarranging the lessons of the different girls. 

Irene, on the morning after her arrival, awoke in a bad temper, notwithstanding the fact that sweet little gentle Agnes was lying closeto her, with her pretty head of fair hair pressed against the eldergirl's shoulder. But when she went downstairs, and took her place in theclass, and found that, after all, she was not such an ignoramus as hercompanions evidently expected to find her, her spirits rose, and for thefirst time in her existence a sense of ambition awoke within her. Itwould be something to conquer Lucy Merriman--the proud, the disdainful, the unpleasant Lucy. After what Professor Merriman had said, Irene madeup her mind to say nothing more in public against Lucy; but her realfeelings of dislike toward her became worse and worse. 

Now, Lucy's feelings towards Irene, which were those of contempt andutter indifference until they met, were now active. She was amazed tofind within herself a power of disliking certain of her fellow-creatureswhich she never thought she could have possessed. She was not a girl tomake violent friendships, but she did not know that she could dislike soheartily. She hated Rosamund with a goodly hatred, but now that hatredwas extended to Irene. Why should Irene be so pretty and yet so naughty, so lovable and yet so detestable? For very soon the peculiar little girlbegan to exercise a certain power over more than one other girl in theschool; and except that she kept herself a good deal apart, and absorbedlittle Agnes Frost altogether, for the first week she certainly didnothing that any one could complain of. Then she was not only remarkablefor her beauty, which must arrest the attention of everybody, but shewas also undeniably clever. Laura Everett was greatly taken with her, sowas Annie Millar, so was Phyllis Flower, and so was Agnes Sparkes. Rosamund assumed the position of a calm and careful guardian angel overboth Irene and little Agnes. She had a talk with both Mrs. Merriman andthe Professor, and also with Miss Frost, on the day after their arrival. 

"I will promise to be all that you want me to be if you will allow me tohave a certain power over Irene and over little Agnes Frost, a powerwhich will be felt rather than seen. I want little Agnes to sit next toIrene at meals; and I want this not for Agnes' sake--for she is such adear little girl that she would make friends wherever she wasplaced--but for Irene's sake, for I don't want her to become jealous. Atpresent she has a hard task in conquering herself, and my earnest desireis to help her all I can. "

"I know that, dear, " said Professor Merriman; and he looked with kindeyes at the fine, brave girl who stood upright before him. 

Mrs. Merriman and Miss Frost also agreed to Rosamund's suggestion, andin consequence there was a certain amount of peace in the school. Thispeace might have gone on, and things might have proved eminentlysatisfactory, had it not been for Lucy herself. But Lucy could nowscarcely contain her feelings. Rosamund exceeded her in power ofacquiring knowledge; she excelled her in grace and beauty. And now therewas Rosamund's friend, a much younger girl, who in some ways was alreadyLucy's superior; for Irene had a talent for music that amounted togenius, whereas Lucy's music was inclined to be merely formal, althoughvery correct. There were other things, too, that little Irene could pickup even at a word or a glance. Agnes did not much matter; her talentswere quite ordinary. She was just a loving and lovable little child, that was all; but when Lucy sometimes met a glance of triumph inRosamund's dark eyes, and saw the light dancing in Irene's, she began toturn round and plan for herself how she could work out a very prettylittle scheme of revenge. 

Now, there seemed no more secure way of doing this than by detachinglittle Agnes from Irene; for, however naughty Irene might be, howevercareless at her tasks, one glance at her little companion had always theeffect of soothing her. Suppose Lucy were to make little Agnes herfriend? That certainly would seem a very simple motive; for Lucy, inreality, was not interested in small children. She acknowledged thatAgnes had more charm than most of her companions, and, in short, she wasworth winning. 

"The first thing I must do is to detach her from Irene. She does notknow anything about Irene at present, but I can soon open her eyes, "thought Lucy to herself. 

The school began, as almost all schools do, toward the middle ofSeptember, and it was on a certain afternoon in a very sunny and warmOctober that Lucy invited little Agnes Frost to take a walk with her. She did this feeling sure that the child would come willingly, for bothIrene and Rosamund were spending the half-holiday at The Follies. MissFrost was busily engaged, and beginning to enjoy her life, and littleAgnes was standing in her wistful way by one of the doors of theschoolroom when Lucy came by. 

"Why, Agnes, " said Lucy, "have you no one to play with?"

"Oh, yes, I have every one, " said Agnes, raising her eyes, whichappealed to all hearts; "only my darling Irene is away, and I miss her. "

"Well, you can't expect her to be always with you--can you?"

"Of course not. It is very selfish of me; but I miss her all the same. "

"Now, suppose, " said Lucy suddenly--"suppose you take me as your friendthis afternoon. What shall we do? I am a good bit older than you, but Iam fond of little girls. "

Agnes looked at Lucy. In truth, she had never disliked any one; but LucyMerriman was as little to her taste as any girl could be. 

"There's Agnes Sparkes. Perhaps she wouldn't mind playing with me, " saidshe after a pause. 

"As you please, child. If you prefer Agnes you can go and search forher. "

"No, no, I don't, " said Agnes, who wouldn't hurt a fly if she could helpit. "I will go for a walk with you, Miss Merriman. "

"Lucy, if you please, " said Lucy. "We are both school-fellows, are wenot?"

"Only I feel so very small, and so very nothing at all beside you, "replied Agnes. 

"But you are a good deal beside me. It is true you are small; but howold are you?"

"I was eleven my last birthday. I am two years younger than dear Irene;but Irene says that I am ten years older than she is in some ways. "

"Twenty--thirty--forty, I should say, " remarked Lucy, with a laugh. "Well, come along; let's have a good time. What shall we do?"

"Whatever you like--Lucy, " said the little girl, making a pause beforeshe ventured on the Christian name. 

"That's right. I am glad you called me Lucy. We all like you, littleAgnes; and it isn't in every school where the sister of one of thegovernesses would be tolerated as you are tolerated here. "

"I don't quite understand what you mean by that. "

"Well, your sister is one of the governesses. "

"Yes, I know. "

"And yet we are all very fond of you. "

"It is very kind of you; but they were all fond of me at Mrs. England'sschool; and when I was at that sort of school at Mrs. Henderson's, wherethere were boys as well as girls, the girls used to quarrel with theboys as to who was to play with me. People have always been kind to me. I don't exactly know why. "

"But I do, I think, " said Lucy; "because you are taking, and can makepeople love you. It is a great gift. Now, give me your hand. We'll walkalong by the riverside. It's so pretty there, is it not?"

"Yes, lovely, " said little Agnes. 

Lucy walked fast. Presently they sat down on a low mossy bank, and Lucyspread out her skirt so that Agnes might sit on it, so as to avoid anychance of taking a chill. 

"You see how careful I am of you, " said the elder girl. 

"All the girls are careful of me like that, " said little Agnes. "I don'texactly know why. Am I so very, very precious?"

"I expect you are to those who love you, " said Lucy, coming more andmore under the glamour of little Agnes's strange power of inspiringaffection. 

"When you look at me like that you seem quite kind, but sometimes youdon't look very kind; and then, you are not fond of my darling Irene andmy dearest Rosamund. I wonder why?"

"Shall I tell you?"

Lucy bent close to the little girl. 

"Oh! if it is anything nasty I would rather not know. "

"But I think you ought to know about your Irene. Nobody loved her atall--nobody could bear her--until----Why, what is the matter, child?"

"Don't--don't go on; I won't listen, " said little Agnes. 

Her face was as white as death; her eyes were dilated. 

"But I will tell you, " said Lucy. "She was the dreadful girl who nearlydrowned poor Miss Carter, one of her governess, who is now at theSingletons'. She was the terrible, terrible girl who made your own dearsister swallow live insects instead of pills; she was the awful girl whoused to put toads into the bread-pan; and--oh! I can't tell you all theterrific things she did. She is only biding her time to do the same toyou. Some people say she isn't a girl at all, but a sort of fairy; andfairies always fascinate people, and when they have made them love themlike anything they will turn them into wicked fairies, or something elseawful. What is the matter, child?"

For little Agnes was trembling all over. After a minute she got up andmade a great effort to steady herself. 

"I don't think you should have told me that story, " she said. "And Idon't believe you. "

"You don't believe me, you little wretch!" said Lucy, reddening withanger. "How dare you say such things? Do you think I, the daughter ofProfessor Ralph Merriman, would tell lies?"

"Well, you've told one now, " said Agnes stoutly; "for I don't believe mydarling Irene ever did such naughty--such very naughty--things. "

"You ask Miss Frost--your dear Emily, as you call her. Here she comeswalking along the bank. You go up and ask her, and if she tells you thatI am wrong, then I will confess that some one told me lies. There, go atonce and do it. "

Miss Frost approached the pair to take little Agnes off Lucy's hands, for it did not occur to her as possible that a girl of Lucy Merriman'stype could be really interested in her little sister. When she saw thewhite face and trembling lips, and the anxious eyes, she stoppedsuddenly, her own heart beating violently. 

"What is it, Aggie? What is wrong, darling?" she said; and she bent downand touched the little one on the shoulder. 

"Oh, Emmie, it isn't true--it can't be true!" said little Agnes. 

"I have been telling her one or two things, " said Lucy. "I have thoughtit best to put her on her guard. You have done an exceedingly sillything to allow her to sleep in the room with that changeling sort ofgirl, Irene Ashleigh. Some day little Agnes will get a great fright. Shesays that she doesn't believe me; but you can tell her the truth, can'tyou? You did swallow wood-lice, did you not?"

"I--I would rather not speak of it, " said Miss Frost. "It is all overnow. " But she shuddered as she spoke. 

"Nevertheless, you must tell her. The child will not believe me. "

"It was a long time ago, darling. Oh, Lucy, what have you done? Whatmischief you have done! How could you be so unkind?"

For little Agnes, in a perfect agony of weeping, had thrown herself intoher sister's arms. 

"I--I don't believe it!" she said. "Irene! Dearest, dearest Irene! Shecouldn't do anything of that sort. "

"She couldn't now, Aggie. Oh, Lucy, do go away! Leave her to me--leaveher to me, " said Miss Frost, in the greatest distress. 

Having accomplished her mission--and, as she said to herself, broughtgunpowder into the enemy's camp--Lucy retired, wondering that she didnot feel more satisfied. Agnes and her sister had a very long talk, theend of which was that they returned home a short time after Irene andRosamund had come back from The Follies. 

Irene began at once to call for Agnes. 

"Aggie! Where's my Aggie? Aggie, I have brought you somethingback--something ever so pretty!"

But there was no response, and Irene felt a queer sensation at herheart. 

"Where is the child?" she said. "Where is my little Agnes?"

After a time Agnes was seen running towards her. She did not come quiteas fast as usual, and there was a change in her face. Irene did not knowwhen she saw that change why a sudden sense of fear stole over her. Itwas as though some one had snatched the heart out of a gem, the gloryout of a flower. It was as though little Agnes was no longer thebeautiful Agnes she loved. She could not analyze her own feelings. Sheherself had returned in the best of spirits. Rosamund had been sobright, so cheery, so brave; her mother had been so pleased at thereports which Irene's different masters and mistresses had given her. All seemed going prosperously and well, and on the way home Rosamund hadspoken of Agnes, and said how glad she was that Irene should have thelittle one to look after, to love and to guide and to cherish. Altogether, Irene was in her most softened mood, and she had broughtback to Sunnyside several old toys of her own which she had rooted outof a cupboard in the long-disused nursery. They would charm littleAgnes; they had never had any fascination for her. 

She thrust the parcel into the child's hands. 

"They are for you, " she said. 

Little Agnes took the parcel, but not in her usual frank, enthusiastic, and open delight, but timidly. 

"They're not--they're not toads?" she said. 

"Toads!" cried Irene; and then she colored crimson. "Don't take themunless you want them, " she said; and she snatched the parcel away fromthe child. 

Little Agnes burst out crying. 

"Irene, what do you mean?--Surely, Agnes, you are not silly!" exclaimedRosamund. "See, let me open the parcel. "

"I don't want her to have it unless she really wishes for it, " saidIrene. "I wouldn't force my gifts on any one, not even little Agnes. "But there was an imploring note in her voice. 

Little Agnes, however, was still full of the horrors with which she hadbeen crammed. Rosamund went on one knee and opened the ungainly parcel. It contained a Noah's Ark, a box of bricks, some soldiers (the very bestof their kind), and other toys of the sort that would ravish children. At another moment little Agnes would have been all delight, but now sheseemed to see--behind the marching soldiers, and the fascinating brickswhich could raise such marvelous architectural edifices, and the Noah'sArk with its quaint animals--toads and lizards and newts, and wasps andbees. Oh, why was she so frightened, she who had never really beenfrightened before? And she did love Irene. She looked up into her facenow with piteous terror, and yet a piteous love mingling in her eyes. 

"I will take them; they are beautiful, " she said; and she clasped themin her arms. Then she put her face up for Irene to kiss, and then shewent away staggering under the weight of her new treasures. 

Irene turned to Rosamund. 

"What is the matter?" she said. "Something has happened to the child. She was so jolly when we went out--so like her dearest, sweetestself--and now she is quite altered. What can have happened?"

"I can't tell, " said Rosamund. "You had better take no notice, Irene. "

Irene could scarcely promise to do that, and she was sulky and disturbedduring the rest of the evening; and although little Agnes sat in herusual place at supper, she hardly spoke to her. 

After supper Agnes flew up to Miss Frost and whispered something in herear. 

"May I--may I--sleep in your bed to-night? I want to, " she said. 

"Certainly, " replied Miss Frost, intensely gratified. "But what willIrene say?"

"I can't help it. I daren't stay in her room. I am frightened. "

Miss Frost whispered again to the child, who went off presently to herstudies, which always took about a quarter of an hour before she retiredto bed. Miss Frost insisted on always seeing her little sister to bedherself, and after the first night or two at Sunnyside no one interferedwith this arrangement. Irene had her own happy time afterwards, when shewent to bed herself, and could look at the dear little face smiling inits sleep, when she could now and again hear the happy murmured words, "Dear Irene! darling Irene!" and when she knew she had constitutedherself the little one's guardian--a sort of guardian angel overher--to fight to the death for her against all that was evil, all thatwas frightening. She was busy as usual to-night over her tasks, and tookno notice when little Agnes and Miss Frost left the room together. Agnes, being the youngest pupil in the school, was always put to bedbefore the others. By-and-by the time came when all the girls were toretire for the night. Lucy had made herself delightfully inconspicuousthis evening. She had scarcely spoken to any one. Even MademoiselleOmont, with whom she had struck up a sort of friendship, developingrapidly a very sound knowledge of the French language, had scarcely beenaddressed by the loquacious young lady; while as to Miss Archer and MissFrost, Lucy disdained even to speak to them. 

By-and-by Rosamund too went up to her room. It was next to the roomoccupied by the two girls, Irene and Agnes. 

"I won't come into your room to-night, " said Irene. But she hesitatedfor a moment. "Have you found out anything to account for little Agnes'sstrange behavior?"

"No--nothing. If I were you I would take no notice. Perhaps the childwas tired. "

"Perhaps some one has told her things that she ought not to know, " wasIrene's response. 

Rosamund was silent. She had much the same fear at her heart. 

"Did you, or did you not, notice how quiet Lucy Merriman has been allthe evening--a sort of hush about her which is not usual? I expect herconscience has been pricking her. Well, if she dares to interfere withme and Agnes she'll rue it, that's all I can say. Goodnight, Rosamund. Iam sleepy. "

Irene went into her room. She longed beyond words to find Agnessufficiently awake to put her arms round her neck and kiss her as ofyore. She wanted to tempt the little one to come into her bed. She felt, more than she cared to own, the acute pang at her heart with regard tolittle Agnes when she brought back the toys. Now, these were placedtidily away on a shelf just beside little Agnes's bed, but the beditself was empty. The little night-dress had been removed; the brush andcomb that always stood on the small dressing-table were also conspicuousby their absence. The little blue felt slippers which looked so sweet onher tiny feet were gone, as was also the blue dressing-gown. But none ofthese things mattered. It was the absence of little Agnes herself thatIrene noticed. Agnes was not in the room. She stood quite still, clasping her hands, while a sensation of rage such as she had neverbefore experienced--such as, with all her tempestuous nature, she hadnever believed could sweep over her--now visited her. 

"Agnes!" she said once, and she went up to the empty bed and turned downthe clothes as though she might even find Agnes beneath. 

But the bed was quite empty; the child was gone. 

Scarcely knowing what she was doing, Irene burst into Rosamund's room. 

"There's something up, and you might find it out. I won't go to beduntil I know. They have taken Agnes away from me. She is not in my room. What is the matter? You must find out. "

"I will, " said Rosamund very gently. "Just sit down and keep as quiet asyou can. I will go at once and see Miss Frost. She can't have gone tobed yet. "

"Let me come with you. "

"No, no; stay where you are, dear; and try to be calm, I beseech you. Byyour love for me, and by your love for Agnes, try now to controlyourself. "

Irene made a mighty effort. She sank into a chair. Tears came close toher eyes, but they did not fall, though she was trembling from head tofoot. 

Rosamund went quickly down the corridor. At the farther end she metLucy, who was returning to her own room. Rosamund stopped her. 

"What have you been doing to little Agnes Frost while we were away?" shesaid. 

"I?" said Lucy, starting and turning very pale. "Nothing. What should Ihave done?"

"You know you have done something. You have frightened her, telling herdreadful stories about Irene. You know it. You are mean and cowardly. You ought not to have anything to do with any respectable school. Icannot tell you how I despise you. Think how much I have given up tosave Irene, who never had a chance until she knew me, and yet you nowdestroy every effort that I have made for her good. Oh, I despise you! Icannot help it. "

Lucy was absolutely speechless. Rosamund walked along the corridor untilshe came to Miss Frost's room. She tapped very gently with her knuckles. Miss Frost came out. 

"Frosty dear, is little Agnes sleeping with you to-night?" she said. 

Miss Frost shut the door and came on to the landing. She put her fingerto her lips. 

"Hush!" she said. "She is with me; she is in my bed. She is verynervous, starting every moment. Lucy Merriman told her dreadful storieswhile she was out to-day. The child told me about them. Lucy had noright to tell her. She is afraid of Irene now. "

"She need never be afraid of Irene. I wonder if she has pluck enough togo back to her? If she has, all will be safe. If not, Irene's characterwill be spoiled for ever. Is she asleep?"

"Scarcely asleep; very nervous and restless. You won't take her back toIrene to-night? You know what the effect of nervous fear is upon adelicate, tenderly nurtured child. You could not be so cruel. "

"Agnes is not so delicate as all that. She can stand it. When I think ofIrene, who has almost been saved, who has almost been turned into thepaths of goodness and righteousness, and mostly by little Agnes herself, and when I think of that cruel, wicked, unscrupulous girl, I have nopatience. Frosty, I have helped you--you must let little Agnes helpIrene now. Don't be frightened. I shall be next door to them, andnothing can possibly happen to the child; but she must come back. "

Miss Frost stood aside. 

"Really, Rosamund, " she said, "I do admit the strength of your words. Iknow how good--how more than good--you have been; but, at the sametime, I feel she is my little sister, and Irene has taken her away. "

"For the present, I grant it, and I am sorry; but not for always. Lether have her back now, for a time at least--to-night at any rate. "

"Very well, you must manage it your own way. "

Poor Miss Frost wrung her hands in nervous terror. She thought of thatawful moment when she had swallowed the wood-lice. She thought of theterrible appearance of James when the wasps had stung him. Sheremembered another occasion when she had found a leech in her bed. Oh, how terrible Irene had been! And there was Miss Carter, who had nearlylost her life in the boat. Then there was Hughie--something very queerhad happened to Hughie on one occasion, only Hughie was no coward. Hewas brave and practical. But then, again, there was Irene herself--Ireneso altered, so sweet to little Agnes, so kind about Hughie. Poor MissFrost was so torn between her diverse emotions that she scarcely knewwhat to do. 

Meanwhile Rosamund had gone into the room. She made a slight noise, andAgnes, only half-asleep, opened her dark eyes and fixed them onRosamund's face. 

"What is it? Is there a toad in the room?" she said. 

"Don't be silly, Agnes, " said Rosamund. "I really have no patience withyou. Now, what is the matter? Sit up in bed and tell me. "

Rosamund did not mean to be unkind, nor did she speak in an unkind way, although her words sounded somewhat determined. 

"I want to speak to you, Agnes, " she said. "You were told stories--andvery exaggerated they doubtless were--by Lucy Merriman when Irene and Iwere at The Follies to-day. "

"I was told frightful stories all about Irene. "

"Then do you mean to tell me you don't love her any more?"

"I shall always love her; but if she were to do such a thing to me itwould kill me. "

"She would never do such a thing to you. Now, I will tell you somethingabout her. She used to be a wild and very naughty child. People wereafraid of her, and she had nothing else to occupy her time but to add totheir terrors. Then I came across her path, and I was not a bit afraidof her. In short, I think I helped her not to be so naughty. But I didnot do half the good you have done. "

"I?" said little Agnes, in amazement. 

"Yes, you, Aggie--you; for you loved her, and you helped her to be goodby simply trusting her, and by clinging to her and thinking her all thatis good and beautiful. Between us--you and me--we were softening her, and she will be a splendid woman some day, not a poor, miserable wretch, half-wild, but good and true and noble. "

"I like women of that sort, " said little Agnes, in a fervor ofenthusiasm. 

"And that is what your own Irene will be, provided that you do not giveher up. "

"I give her up?" said little Agnes. "But I never will. "

"You gave her up to-night when you refused to sleep in the room withher. She is in my room now, trembling all over, terrified, grieved, amazed. Oh, Aggie, why did you do it?"

"I was frightened, " whispered Agnes. "I suppose I am a coward. "

"You certainly are a very great coward, and I am surprised at you, forIrene would no more hurt you than a mother would her own little child. You have got to come back to her in my arms, and you have got to tellher that you love her more than ever, and that you trust her more thanever. Now, will you or will you not? If you will not, I believe that allour efforts will be fruitless, and Irene will become just as bad asever. But if you do, you will have done a brave and noble act. You arenot a coward, Agnes; you are a girl with a good deal of character, whenall is said and done, and you ought to exercise it now for your friend. Just think what she has done for you. Think what she has done for yoursister, and"----

"It was to Emmie that she gave the awful wood-lice, " said Agnes. 

"She did it as an ignorant girl, not in the least knowing the danger andthe naughtiness of her own trick. I do not pretend to defend her; butshe would not do such a thing now to anybody, and certainly not to you. And yet, because you hear a few bad stories about her, you give up thegirl who has sheltered and loved and petted you; who has influenced LadyJane to make your brother a gentleman, not a shopman; who will help youall through your life, as you, darling, are helping her. Oh! I know youare a little girl, and cannot understand perhaps all that I say; but ifyou give Irene up to-night I shall be in despair. "

Tears came to Rosamund's bright eyes. She sat quite still, looking atthe child. 

"I won't give her up! I won't be frightened at all. I will run back toher now. "

"There's a darling! Go this very second. Where are your slippers? Hereis your little blue dressing-gown. You will find her in my room. I won'tgo back for a minute or two, for I will explain to Frosty. Now, off withyou, and remember that I am close to you; but you needn't even think ofthat, for Irene herself would fight the fiercest and most savagecreature to shield and protect you, little Agnes. "

It seemed to little Agnes as Rosamund spoke that the terrors that Lucy'swords had inspired rolled away as though they had never existed. Thebrightness came back to her pretty dark eyes. She put her small feetinto her little felt slippers, wrapped herself round with her littleblue dressing-gown, and ran down the corridor. It was too late for anyof the girls to be up, and the corridor was deserted. Lucy had gone tobed, to wrestle and cry and wonder by what possible means she couldrevenge herself on Rosamund Cunliffe. 

Irene was sitting in Rosamund's room, feeling more and more that wildliving thing inside her--that wild thing that would not be subdued, thatwould rise up and urge her to desperate actions. Then all of a suddenthere came the patter of small feet, and those feet stopped, not atRosamund's door, but at her own. It was opened and a little face peepedin. Irene, in Rosamund's room, could not see the face, but she heard thesound, and her heart seemed to stand still. She rose softly, opened thedoor of communication between the two rooms, and peeped in. 

With a cry, Agnes flew to her side. 

"Oh, Irene! I have come back. I couldn't sleep in Frosty's bed. Ithought--I did think--oh, don't ask me any questions! Just let me sleepwith you to-night. And oh, Irene, don't be angry with me!"

"I angry with you?" said Irene, melted on the spot. "No, I won't ask asingle question, you sweet, you dear, you treasure! Yes, we will sleeptogether. Yes, little Agnes, I love you with all my heart for ever andfor ever. "

CHAPTER XXV. 

REVENGE. 

After this incident there was peace in the school for some time; Lucywas defeated. Agnes was more Irene's chosen chum and adored littlefriend than ever. The child seemed to have completely lost her terrors, and she gave Miss Frost rather less than more of her society. Rosamundwatched in silent trepidation. If only Lucy would not interfere! But shedid not trust Lucy, nor did she trust another girl in the school, Phyllis Flower, who--small, thin, plain, but clever--had suddenly becomeLucy's right-hand. At first Phyllis had rather shrunk away from Lucy, but now she was invariably with her. They talked a good deal, and in lowtones, as though they had a great many secrets which they shared eachwith the other. On one occasion, towards mid-term, when all the girlshad settled comfortably to their tasks and life seemed smooth andharmonious once more, even Irene being no longer regarded with dislikeand terror by the rest of the girls, Lucy Merriman and Phyllis Flowertook a walk together. 

"I am very glad we have this chance of being alone, " said Lucy, "for Iwant to speak to you. "

"What do you want to say?" asked Phyllis. She was flattered by Lucy'sconfidence, for some of the girls admired this prim though ratherhandsome girl very much. Besides, was she not the daughter of their ownmaster and mistress? Had she not a sort of position in the school whichthe rest of them would have envied a good deal? Lucy was beginning toexercise her power in more than one direction, and she and Rosamundbetween them really headed two parties in the small school. Of course, Phyllis Flower belonged altogether to Lucy's party. 

"Well, what is it?" she said. "What do you want to say to me?"

"It is this, " said Lucy. "I am quite determined to have my revenge onthat horrid Rosamund and that odious Irene. "

"I wish you wouldn't think so much about them. They are quite happy now, and don't do anybody any special harm. "

"But that is just it. Rosamund ought never to have been readmitted tothe school, and Irene is not the sort of girl who should have comehere. "

"Well, she seems a very nice sort--not that I know much about her. "

"You had better not say that again in my presence, Phyllis--that is, ifyou wish me to remain your friend. "

"Then I won't, dear, " said Phyllis, "for certainly I do wish you to bemy friend. "

"I hate Irene, " said Lucy, "and I hate Rosamund, and I hate that littlesneak Agnes Frost, who tries to worm herself into everybody's goodfavor. "

"Oh, no, she doesn't! She thinks of no one in all the world but Irene. "

"I am surprised at that, " said Lucy. "I imagined I had put a spoke inthat wheel. I was very much amazed when I saw them thicker than ever thevery next day. She is the sort of child who would tell tales out ofschool. I know the sort--detestable! She is a little pitcher with longears. She is all that is vulgar and second-rate. "

"Perhaps she is, " said Phyllis, "although I never thought so. I thoughther a pretty, sweet little creature. I think she is really fond ofIrene, and Irene is sincerely devoted to her. "

"Well, Phyllis, I will confide in you. A few weeks ago, when Rosamundand Irene took themselves off to The Follies to spend the afternoon, Itook the opportunity of having a chat with little Miss Agnes Frost, andthere and then I enlightened her with regard to certain stories which Iknew for a fact to be true. I can tell you I frightened her a good bit. She is rather timid--I never knew any one more so. Her face got as whiteas death. Of course, I told her she was not to tell any one, but Ididn't greatly care. I know for a fact she was nervous for the rest ofthe day, and that evening she asked poor old Frosty to let her sleep inher bed. "

"But she didn't sleep with her, all the same, " said Phyllis, "for Ihappened to see her running back to her own room quite late, after therest of us were supposed to be in bed. And the next day she was greaterfriends than ever with Irene. "

"What a nuisance things are!" said Lucy. "But now I am absolutelydetermined to punish Irene and Rosamund in the only way in which I canpunish them. Rosamund is conceited enough to believe that she has made areformation in Irene's character. I know better. I know that Irene is aperfectly horrid girl. If you could only have heard Miss Carter talkabout her when she first went to the Singletons'! And we had a servantonce from their house, and she told us some most ghastly tales. It isimpossible to suppose for a second that Irene is a nice girl; butbetween Rosamund--who, I must own, is very plucky--and this mite Agnes, who is devoted to her, she is quite quiet and amenable, and she is nodoubt passionately fond of that stupid, inane little Agnes. Now, I meanto get Agnes from her. You must help me, Phyllis. How are we to manageit?"

"It seems hardly worth while, " said Phyllis. 

"All right, Phyllis, you can please yourself. There are others who wouldhelp me--Agnes Sparkes, for instance. "

"Oh! if you must have some one, I am quite as good as another, " saidPhyllis Flower. 

"Well, you know that promise of mine that we should go to Londontogether. My dear aunt, Mrs. Brett, is going to town, and she says thatshe will take me and any special friend I like as my companion, and shewill show me all over the place: the Tower, the Houses of Parliament, and Westminster Abbey, and St. Paul's, and all the rest. And I mean togo to a theatre. Were you ever at a really big theatre in the wholecourse of your life, Phyllis?"

"Never, " said Phyllis, "for you know I have lived all my life in thecountry. "

"Well, you can't possibly imagine what it is like: the dresses and thelights, and the actors and the stage effects, as they call them, and theway the people talk--it moves you so. I went once, and I cried twohandkerchiefs into wet mops, and I could have cried into a third, only Ididn't happen to have it. Oh, it was lovely!"

"It seems to be rather melancholy from your description, " said Phyllis. 

"Oh! it is the sort of melancholy that you can enjoy, " said Lucy. "Atleast I enjoyed it, and I am a very matter-of-fact girl. But there, wecan go to a laughing theatre. Some theatres make you laugh so much thatyou can scarcely stop. You get almost into hysterics. Anyhow, I mean togo, because Aunt Susan has promised to take me, either to a merry or asad play. And then you are fond of music. I dare say I could squeeze ina concert. Think of a whole week, and not a penny to come out of yourpocket; for Aunt Susan has a little sum put by, and she means to giveme and whichever of my school-fellows I like best a real treat. So nowyou understand. "

"Yes, I understand, " said Phyllis. 

"But you must help me to effect my object. I mean to part those twogirls--that ridiculous little Agnes and that hated Irene. I mean to partthem thoroughly. "

"But I don't see how you can do it. "

"Oh, don't you? I have thought of several ways. You know what a passionIrene has for all sorts of creatures--newts and toads and frogs. Well, Ican also have a similar passion for those creatures. Anyhow, I havehalf-a-crown in my pocket, and I mean to----But there--the others arefollowing us. Do let us talk in whispers. We needn't do it quite yet, but we will do it in about a week's time; and then there'll be a greatrumpus, and most likely Irene will be expelled. Agnes can stay or not asshe likes. She is quite a timid little thing, and I only want toseparate her from Irene, and I want to prove to that horrid Rosamundthat she is wrong and I am right. That's all. You can help me, and wewill go to London afterwards. But please yourself. "

"Let me think it over, " said Phyllis. "Of course, I'd just love to go toLondon with you. It seems too interesting for anything; but"----

"There is generally something to be put up with when great pleasure isto be obtained, " said Lucy. "I never had such a chance as this before, and I can give it to any one else. There is Annie Millar, or AgnesSparkes--either of them would jump at it; or one of the Singleton girls. As to poor Jane Denton--but she is not at the school at present; andLaura Everett has plenty of fun of her own. I offer it to you now, provided you will help me. "

"I suppose I must; but will you give me a day to think over it?"

"Yes, think it over; think what it means. You will have to be myconfederate in this matter. It is just a little game I mean to play, andI think I shall play it so effectually that there will be no morefriendship between pretty Agnes Frost and Irene Ashleigh. "

CHAPTER XXVI. 

IN ROSAMUND'S BOWER. 

The days flew by, and apparently all was harmonious in the littleschool. Agnes clung more closely than ever to Irene. Irene hadconsiderably altered. She was no longer specially wild. She was so muchabsorbed in watching Agnes, in seeing that no one else put in any claimwith regard to this small girl, that she had no time to think of beingmischievous. Besides, she had her lessons to attend to; and lessonsunder Miss Archer, and Mademoiselle Omont, and, still more, under thedifferent masters who attended to the school, were of the moststimulating character. The child seemed to imbibe knowledge with arapidity which astonished all those who watched her. She understood themeaning of a thing at a glance, and it was soon perceived that, inaddition to her extraordinary and very remarkable beauty, she was also agenius, or almost that, for she had a natural talent for all sorts ofthings: for music, which she could already play impromptu, bringing outwild melodies on the piano to which her hearers felt they could go onlistening for ever. Of course, the mistresses were supposed not toapprove of this sort of playing, and tried to tie Irene down to theusual exercises and the different methods for bringing strength to thefingers. Irene did attend to these lessons, but only in a sort ofhalf-hearted way; soon she broke again into those wild melodies whichseemed to pierce the heart and get more or less to the soul of thelittle performer. 

The Singleton girls were often now spending a day or half a day at theMerrimans' school, and Irene and all her companions would alsofrequently spend an afternoon at the Rectory. People had ceased to beafraid of Irene. She was now like an ordinary child. It was quite truethat those who watched her narrowly still saw that wild glance in hereyes, which could be easily excited; but then, Rosamund was near tosubdue if the moment came, and little Agnes's affectionate touch on herarm had always the power to comfort and soothe her. 

"Aggie, " she said to the little girl one day, "I don't know how I livedwithout you. I used to make pets of my poor leeches. "

"Leeches!" said Agnes, with a shudder. 

"Yes, darling. You know that dreadful story that was told you. Well, ofcourse it was true--quite true. But then I had no friends, and so I hadFuzz and Buzz, and Thunder and Lightning, and the little Stars. Oh! itused to be great fun to watch them, and to think how I could terrifypeople by them. "

"But, " said little Agnes, "it was very cruel, wasn't it?"

"I suppose it was, Agnes. Only I wanted the magical influence of lovelike yours to take the cruelty out of my heart, to smooth down all therough edges, and to make me feel like an ordinary girl. I feel like anordinary girl now in many ways, except that I could never give you up, Agnes. "

"And I couldn't give you up, Irene. I told dear Emily so the other day. "

"She didn't want you to, did she?" said Irene, with sudden fierceness. 

"Oh no; but she did ask me what I found in you to make you more preciousthan any other girl in the school, and I said"----

"What did you say? Look me in the face, Agnes. "

Agnes looked up with her melting, loving eyes. 

"I said that somehow or other I loved you, and I did not love theothers. "

"Ah! there you struck the nail on the head, " said Irene. "Look here, Agnes; if anything happened to divide us I'd get worse than ever;because, you see, I am cleverer than I used to be. "

"Nothing can come to divide us, " said little Agnes. "What could?"

"I am only saving that if anything did I'd be worse than ever. "

"I wish you wouldn't talk like that. "

"I can't help it sometimes, for I am--yes, I am--much cleverer now. "

This little conversation took place in a small arbor at the Rectory; andjust at this moment some one called Agnes, and Agnes, looking forpermission at Irene, who nodded in reply, ran off. A moment later MissCarter herself entered the bower, where Irene was still sitting. 

"So you are not afraid of me now, Cartery dear, " said Irene, speaking inthe sort of tone which she supposed Maud Singleton adopted. 

"No, I am not afraid of you. You are much altered. I came to say howmuch I admire you. In short, you are not the same girl you used to be. "

"Well, it is owing to two influences, " said Irene: "to Rosamund, who isso strong and brave, and took me in hand, and showed me myself, and didnot express a scrap of fright, however much terror I tried to inspireher with; and it is owing also to even a stronger influence. "

"And what is that?" said Miss Carter. 

"Well, you see, there is that little thing--that darling--I can scarcelyspeak her name without trembling. I love her so much. She is like my ownlittle child. "

"Do you mean little Agnes Frost?"

"Oh yes. She is nothing to the rest of you. I do not wish her to be. She is all--all mine; and if anything happened to her, if she were takenfrom me, if I had to do without her, I should become worse than ever. "

"But what do you mean?" said Miss Carter. "Why should little Agnes betaken from you?"

"I don't suppose anybody would dare to take her from me. Frostywouldn't, and mother wouldn't; the school wouldn't; but there is awicked girl who tried her very best to frighten little Agnes, onlyRosamund brought her back to her senses. The darling knows that whoeverelse I might hurt at one time, I never could and never would hurt onehair of her head. And she loves me in return. "

"Then that's all right, " said Miss Carter. 

Just at that moment a slight rustling was heard at the back of thelittle bower. Irene did not notice it, but Miss Carter did. 

"I wonder if anybody is listening?" she said. 

"Who cares? I don't mind if the whole world hears. There's that spy, Lucy Merriman; she is as likely as not to do mean things. But I don'tmind even her. "

"Oh, don't you?" thought Lucy, who had that moment come a little nearerthe back of the bower. 

"No, I don't mind even her, " repeated Irene. "I only say that as long asRosamund is with me I shall be a good girl, just because I can't helpmyself; and if any one were to take my Rosamund from me I should beworse than ever. "

"You were pretty bad. I don't know how you could be worse than you usedto be. "

"Well, you see, I know more. I have more knowledge. I could be morerefined in my acts of terrorism, or whatever you like to call them. Anyhow, people had better not try. "

"People had better not try!" thought Lucy. "But, my fine Irene, somebodyis going to try. "

The evening passed, and the children came back again to have supper atSunnyside. Lucy was biding her time. She disliked Irene even more thanshe disliked Rosamund. As to little Agnes, she was not of the smallestinterest to her. She simply wished to divide her effectually from Irene, in order to punish both Irene and Rosamund; and nothing could give hergreater pleasure than that Irene should burst into one of her worstfrenzies. She thought she saw a way. 

The family were all sitting contentedly at their supper when a telegramwas brought in which was handed to Rosamund. It was from her mother, telling her that her father was seriously ill, and wanted her to come toLondon on the following day. Rosamund, who was intensely devoted to bothher parents, was much distressed. She handed the telegram to Mrs. Merriman, who immediately gave her the necessary permission. 

"You must start by the very first train to-morrow morning, " said Mrs. Merriman, "and one of the governesses must go with you. Miss Frost mightbe the best. "

"Of course, Miss Frost would be the right person, " said Lucy, suddenlyraising her voice, for it seemed to her that she saw the veryopportunity she wished for in this unexpected absence of Rosamund. 

"I shall probably only be away for a day. I cannot think there can beanything seriously wrong with dear father, " said Rosamund. "But, ofcourse, after mother's telegram I must go. "

Accordingly, a reply stating the hour of Rosamund's arrival atPaddington was wired back to London, and shortly afterwards the girlwent up to her own room to pack a few things. She was not depressed, forher father was subject to sudden attacks, which, although distressful, were not of a painful nature. 

Presently Irene came and sat in the room with her. She sat down on theedge of the bed. 

"I should almost die here, " she said, "if it were not for Agnes. As itis, I feel dreadful. I feel quite frightened at the thought of yourgoing. "

"But for my sake you will do your utmost to try to be good while I amaway, won't you, Irene? I shall probably only be in London one night, ortwo at the very most; and Frosty is coming too. You won't mind that?Miss Frost is coming back at once; she will return in time for to-morrowevening. "

"Oh! I suppose it will be all right, " said Irene restlessly. 

Rosamund went on putting a few things into her little trunk. Then shewent up to Irene, put her arm round her waist, and kissed her. 

"I am proud of you, Irene, " she said. "I shall always feel that I havenot lived in vain when I think how different you are from the child Ifirst saw only a few months ago. "

"I feel different, " said Irene. "I begin to have a sort of pleasure inbeing--I mean in trying to be--good. It is you, of course--you and dearlittle Agnes. "

"Well, Agnes will be more than ever in your care now. "

"Oh! I shall look after her, there's no fear of that. I shall beterribly lonely without you, darling; but she and I will be all in allto each other while you are away. If it wasn't for--for Lucy Merriman Ishould be quite happy, for I think the other girls are inclined to benice; but I hate Lucy. "

"Well, I must say, Irene, speaking honestly, I hate her too. But we mustboth make up our minds not to mind her. She cannot really hurt us. "

"Hurt us?" said Irene. "I'm sure I'm not afraid of her, if that is whatyou mean. "

"Well, that's all right. Now, let us go to bed. "

"I believe I am very tired too. I will promise to be quite good whileyou are away, so you need not have any anxiety on my account, darling, "said Irene; and she kissed Rosamund several times. 

The night passed, and early the next morning Rosamund, accompanied byMiss Frost, took her departure. There was a certain loneliness felt inthe school, for Rosamund was exceedingly popular with every girl in theplace, with the sole exception of Lucy Merriman. Busy school-life, however, gives little time for regrets or even for loneliness. Eachmoment of time is carefully marked out, each hour has its appointedtask, and the girls were, to all appearance, as happy as usual. LittleAgnes did not in the very least miss Rosamund or her own sister Emily. Her whole soul was set upon Irene, who helped her with her lessons, walked with her, and hardly ever let her out of her sight. 

In the course of the evening Lucy was seen to go up to Phyllis Flower. 

"Now, Phyllis, " she said, "here is your chance. I've got the very thingthat will do the business. We must get Agnes to bed, and a little later, when she is asleep, you shall creep into the room and just slip thisthing under the bedclothes. She won't know who has done it. She willwake out of her first sleep, and naturally think that it is Irene'sdoing. "

As Lucy spoke she drew Phyllis towards a corner of the playground, wherea large, rather ferocious-looking hedgehog was curled up in a ball. 

"But that--that would almost kill the child, " said Phyllis, startingback. 

"We must give her a good fright; it is the only way to effect ourpurpose. Then one or other of us must be near, and intercept her, andtell her that we will be her friends. Then you will have your week withme in London; but you must do it. "

"I almost think, " said Phyllis, turning very white, "that I'd rather nothave my week. You can do it yourself if you like. It seems so cruel, andthey are very happy together, and she is a very timid little thing. Andjust when her sister is not at home!"

"That is the very time. I am going to have a chat with little Agnes thisevening. I am going in a certain way to prepare her--not much. Now, don't be a goose, Phyllis. Think what a jolly time you will have inLondon. It will be quite impossible for us to be found out. "

Lucy talked to Phyllis for some time, and finally persuaded her to actas her accomplice in the matter. 

It was a rule at Sunnyside that the smaller girls, consisting of PhyllisFlower, Agnes Sparkes, and little Agnes Frost, should go to bed quite anhour before the other girls. They usually had supper of milk and a fewbiscuits, and went to their room not later than eight o'clock. The othergirls did not go to bed until half-past nine, and had a more substantialmeal at eight o'clock. Phyllis Flower, therefore, for every reason, wasbest able to perform the mean trick by which Lucy meant to sever thefriendship between Irene and little Agnes; but the child must beslightly alarmed, otherwise the hedgehog might be put into the bed andshe know nothing about it. 

Consequently, just before the younger children's simple supper wasbrought in on a tray, Lucy came and sat down near Agnes Frost. 

"You must miss your Emily, " she said. 

Her tone was quite caressing and gentle. Little Agnes--who did not likeLucy, but could not in her heart of hearts cherish ill-will towards anyone--raised her eyes now and said gently, "Of course I miss her; butthen, I have my dear Irene. "

Lucy put on a smile which meant wonderful things. 

"You are a very courageous little girl, " she said after a pause. 

Little Agnes was silent for a minute; then she said gravely, "I knowexactly what you mean by that, and I think you are mistaken. You saidthings about my Irene which are not true. "

"Oh, indeed! you accuse me of falsehood, do you?" said Lucy. 

"Well, perhaps not exactly of falsehood; but I don't think it was kindof you to tell me, for Irene is changed now. She could never do cruelthings now. "

"She will never be changed. Don't you understand that she is not likeordinary people? She is a sort of fairy, hardly like a human being atall. I may as well tell you, now that Rosamund and Miss Frost are away, that while Rosamund slept in the next room you were practically safe. Iwill admit, although I have no love for Rosamund Cunliffe, that she is avery brave and plucky girl. To-night, however----But I trust it will beall right. I don't want to make you nervous. I trust it will be allright. "

Lucy moved off and sat down before her books and pretended to read. By-and-by Irene, looking lovely in one of her prettiest pale-bluedresses, entered the room. Little Agnes was sipping her milk veryslowly. Irene ran straight up to her. She had the power of almostdivining a person's thoughts, and she was conscious that the child wastroubled. 

"What is it, pet?" she said. "Has anybody vexed you?"

"Oh, nobody--nobody, indeed, dear Irene. "

"Well, that is all right. I wish I could go to bed with you to-night. "

"I wish you could, " said the child nervously. 

"But I can't. I have an awfully stiff piece of work to get throughbefore the morning, and I am determined to be first in my form, otherwise Lucy Merriman will get ahead of me, and that she shall not. "

"But I sha'n't be nervous really. "

"No, of course not, dear. What is there to be nervous about?"

Irene was really absorbed in an intricate calculation which she had tomake with regard to a very advanced sum, and sat down at a distanttable, and forgot for the time being even little Agnes. Agnes, therefore, went up to bed alone. There was no Miss Frost to help her toundress, there was no one to take any notice of her, and there were thefearful stories that Lucy kept hinting at ringing in her ears. Yes, Irene had done dreadful things. Yes, she had. But Irene to her wasperfect. She had no fear with her; she was happy with her. But then, Lucy Merriman had said that that was because little Agnes was so wellprotected. She had Rosamund sleeping practically in the same room, andMiss Frost, her own sister, not far away. Irene did not dare to doanything dreadful. But she had done dreadful things. She had nearlykilled poor Miss Carter. She had made her own beloved sister swallowinsects instead of pills. In short, she was just what Lucy had describedher to be. And Lucy had said another dreadful thing to-night. She hadhinted that Irene was not exactly to blame, for she was not like anordinary girl; she was a sort of fairy girl. Now, Agnes had read severalfairy-tales, and knew, supposing such a wonderful thing as a fairyreally lived in the world, that she might be influenced by some otherfairies, who would guide her, and help her, and force her to do thingswhether she liked them or not. But still she never would be unkind tolittle Agnes. 

"It is a perfect shame of me even to think of it, " said the little girlto herself. "I am ever so sleepy, but still I'll just look under thepillow. Oh, suppose Fuzz or Buzz were there, wouldn't I just scream withterror?"

But the pillow was quite innocent and harbored no obnoxious thing; thebed was smooth and white as usual; and little Agnes undressed, not quiteas carefully as when Miss Frost was looking after her, and getting intobed, laid her head on the pillow, and presently fell fast asleep. 

She had not been asleep more than a quarter of an hour before the roomdoor was opened most carefully (the lock had been oiled in advance byLucy), and Phyllis Flower, carrying the hedgehog, came in. She drew downthe bedclothes and laid the hedgehog so that its prickles would justtouch the child in case she moved, and then as carefully withdrew. Shehated herself for having done it. All was quiet in that part of thehouse, which was far away from the schoolrooms, and no one heard a childgive a terrible scream a few minutes later; and no one saw that samechild spring out of bed, hastily put on her clothes, and rush downstairsin wild distress and despair. 

Lucy had meant to be close at hand to comfort little Agnes when frightovertook her. But she had been called away to do some writing for herfather. Laura Everett was busy attending to her own work. Phyllis Flowerwas in bed and asleep. She had earned her trip to London, and wasdreaming about the delights of that time. No one heard that scream, which was at once faint and piteous. No one heard the little feet speedthrough the hall, and no one saw the little figure stealthily leave thehouse. Little Agnes was going to run away. Yes, there was no doubtwhatever now in her mind: her darling Irene was a fairy, a changeling. She had done the most cruel and awful thing. 

When little Agnes had seen the hedgehog in her bed she was far tooterrified even to recognize the nature of the creature that had beenmade her bedfellow. But she felt sure that Lucy's words were right: thatIrene was a wicked changeling, and that the sooner she got away from herthe better. The child was too young to reason, too simple by nature togive any thought to double-dealing. All she wanted now was to get away. She could not stay another minute in the house. Her love for Irene wasswallowed up altogether by her wild terror. She trembled; she shook fromhead to foot. 

It was a bitterly cold winter's night, and the child was onlyhalf-clothed. She had forgotten to put on anything but her house-shoes, and had not even a hat on her head. But that did not matter. She wasout, and there was no terrible Irene to come near her, no wicked fairyto do her damage. She would stay out all night if necessary. She wouldhide from Irene. She could never be her friend again. 

The terror in her little heart rendered her quite unreasonable for thetime being. She was, in short, past reason. By-and-by she crept into theold bower where Rosamund and Irene had spent a midsummer night--a nightaltogether very different from the present one, for the bower was notwaterproof, and the cold sleet came in and fell upon the half-dressedchild. She sank down on the seat, which was already drenched; but littleshe cared. She crouched there, wondering what was to be the end, andgiving little cries of absolute anguish now and then. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

"MY OWN IRENE!"

Irene went up to bed that night in her usual spirits. She longed for themoment when she could, as usual, kiss little Agnes; but she was extratired, for she had passed a stimulating day, and had been on her bestbehavior. She felt quite happy, and wondered if her mother, when herallotted time at the Merrimans' was over, would send her and littleAgnes and Rosamund to another school somewhere else. She liked theexcitement of school-life, and thought that if she could find a homewhere there was no girl like Lucy she would be perfectly happy. Shelittle knew that in all schools there are girls of the Lucy type, whoare not amiable, whose faults are far worse than those of ordinarywildness or even ordinary disobedience. But on this occasion she feltalmost kindly toward Lucy, who nodded to her and said, "You and Agnesmust make the most of yourselves together, for you will miss Rosamund. "

"Oh! we'll be quite happy together, " said Irene, with a careless nod;and then she went up to her room, opened the door gently, shut itquietly behind her, and shading the candle with one hand, went over tolittle Agnes's bed. 

There was no Agnes there. But a huge hedgehog had curled itself up in aball close to the pillow where the little delicate head had beenpressed. Irene was afraid of no living creature, and she recognized thehedgehog at once. She took it up and laid it on the window-sill. Thenshe looked round her. Her face was white as death; her teeth chattered. She suddenly left the room and went straight to Lucy's. She opened thedoor without knocking. 

"Lucy!" she said. 

"What is it?" said Lucy, who was brushing out her long fair hair. 

"Did you put a hedgehog into Agnes's bed?"

"Certainly not, " said Lucy. 

"Well, some one did as a trick, and the child isn't there. "

"The child isn't there? There's only one person who could do that sortof thing, and that is yourself, as you know very well, " said Lucy. "Butis the child nowhere in the room?"

"You come and look for her, will you?" said Irene. Her tone and mannerhad completely altered. She was forcing herself to use self-control. HadFuzz and Buzz, and Thunder and Lightning, and the Stars been present atthat moment, there is not the least doubt that Irene would have electedthem to wreak their vengeance on Lucy; but she was keeping herself infor all she was worth at the present moment, for after all even Lucy didnot much matter--it was little Agnes who mattered. 

"Here's the hedgehog, " said Irene when they entered her bedroom--"agreat big one--and some one had put it into the little one's bed, andshe's not there, and you know how timid she is. Where is she? You know Ididn't do it. Is it likely I'd do it to one I love?"

"Oh! you're a sort of fairy--a changeling, " said Lucy. "And you havedone such things to other people. Why shouldn't you do it to her?Anyhow, who else in the house can be accused? Every one knows yourcharacter. "

"Never mind about my character now. I know, I am positive, that you areat the bottom of this. But the thing is to find little Agnes. I must goat once to Mrs. Merriman. "

"I wonder where she can be?" said Lucy, who had not expected for amoment that little Agnes would disappear. "She must have gone to one ofthe other girls' rooms. We will go to all the others and find out. Ofcourse, I am sorry for you, Irene; but really you went too far when youmade use of a hedgehog--such a horrid, frightening thing. "

"I don't want your help. I'll go myself, " said Irene. 

She pushed past Lucy, and going down the corridor, entered each room. Each girl was asked where little Agnes Frost was. Each girl replied thatshe did not know. It was Phyllis Flower, however, who, in excitement andpallor, started from an uneasy dream. 

"Little Agnes?" she said. "But she can't have gone out!"

"It seems to me you know something about this. Will you help me to findher?" said Irene. 

Then, all in a minute, for some reason which she could never define, little Phyllis sprang to her feet hastily, put on her clothes, andwithout even glancing at Lucy, took Irene's hand. 

"We'll search the house first, " she said. 

"Then you don't think I did such a cruel thing?" said Irene. 

"Oh, don't ask me! I mean--oh, no, no! But I'll help you to find her. I'll do my best--my very best. "

The whole house was awakened, and the alarm given. The Professor was notyet in bed. He was very much worried and annoyed. He directly told Irenethat he believed she was guilty of giving her little companion a fright. 

"You have done it so often before, you know, " he said, "that peoplecertainly do suspect you. "

"Suspect me or not as you please, " she answered, "but let us find littleAgnes. The night is cold; there is sleet falling outside. It will turnto snow before morning. Where is the child? After all, " she continued, speaking more like a grown woman than the wild sort of creature that shehad been a few months ago, "she is under your charge, ProfessorMerriman, and you are bound to do your utmost to find her. "

But nowhere in the house--not even in the cellars, which Lucy as a lastresort suggested might possibly be her hiding-place--could little Agnesbe found. At last a regular outdoor search was instituted. Lucy was nowreally frightened, although she would not own this feeling even toherself. 

"Silly, tiresome child!" she kept muttering to herself. 

As to Irene, not a single word passed her lips. Suddenly, in the midstof the searchers, she was missing. People wondered where she had goneto. Irene had rushed back to her own room, the room where she and littleAgnes had been so happy together. She looked at the little white bedwhere they had lain in each other's arms. All her past, so cruel, sothoughtless, so selfish, was borne in upon her. She dropped on herknees, and in an agony of terror said aloud, "O God, help me to findher, and to be a good girl in future. "

Then Irene felt a wonderful sense of calm. She went down again throughthe house. No one noticed her, for every one was in a great state ofalarm. Those girls who were in bed were desired not to get up; but agood many had disobeyed orders, and Miss Archer, Mademoiselle Omont(gesticulating wildly), Professor Merriman, his wife, the servants, andthe older girls were all searching in vain for Agnes. They were callingher name, but no one thought of the bower at the far end of theshrubbery; for what child would be likely to take refuge there?

Irene, however, all of a sudden remembered it. She remembered the nightlong ago when she, a wild little untamed creature, had crept into theroom where Rosamund slept, had forced her to come out with her, and theyhad spent the night together in the bower. She would go there now. Shedid not know what guided her footsteps, but she felt sure some one did. 

Now, the shrubbery, a delightful place in warm weather, was damp andcold as ice at this time of the year. The leaves, now falling thicklyfrom the trees, lay sodden on the ground. Sleet continued to fallheavily from the sky. All the seekers were chilled to the very bone, andthe bower, so charming in summer, so perfect a resort, so happy ahiding-place, was now the very essence of desolation. But Irene carednothing for that. She cared nothing for the fact that her thin shoeswere soaked through and through, that her dress hung closely round her, that her hat was bent forward over her eyes. She only wanted to findlittle Agnes, and to have her love again. In the bower Irene did findthe child crouched up in one corner, terrified, an almost unseeingexpression in her eyes. Irene rushed to her with a glad cry. 

"My darling! my darling! Oh, my own sweet little darling, come to yourown Irene!"

But Agnes gave a shriek of terror when she saw her. 

"No, no! Keep away! It's you who did it! You don't love me! No, no, Iwon't come to you!"

The piercing shrieks that came from the poor little girl's lips broughtthe rest of the party to the scene. When they appeared, ProfessorMerriman holding a lantern, they saw Agnes crouched in the farthestcorner of the bower, her eyes semi-conscious, her face deadly white withterror, while Irene stood a little way off. 

"Some one has turned her brain. Take her; do what you can with her, "said Irene; and she walked away, not caring where she went. 

They brought little Agnes back, and of course they sent for the doctor. The doctor stayed all night, for he said the child had received somevery severe and terrible shock. Mrs. Merriman nursed her, and the nextday, as soon as possible, Miss Frost returned. 

But neither Miss Frost, nor the doctor, nor any one else could ease theterrors which had laid hold of the brain of little Agnes. She believedMiss Frost to be a sort of magnified Irene. The very name of Irene wasenough to set her screaming again. She called Irene a fairy, achangeling, and nothing could soothe her or comfort her. 

At last one day the doctor spoke to Mrs. Merriman. 

"The case is quite a serious one, " he said. "I cannot imagine what hashappened to the child. You ought to find out who put that hedgehog inher bed. Hedgehogs are quite harmless in their way; but they would givea timid child a very nasty fright, which she evidently got. "

"What we fear is that Irene did it. She has done all sorts of tricks ofthat kind before now. You remember how poor Miss Frost went to you on acertain occasion. "

"Alas! that is true. But compared to this, her sin against poor MissFrost was innocence itself. Such a timid, gentle, confiding littlecreature as this! And then report says that she was so devoted to Irene, and that Irene was so changed. "

Yes, indeed, Irene was changed, and the great change lay now in the factthat she did not say a word or admit her suffering to any one; but satmoody and silent, scarcely attending to her lessons, indifferent to badmarks, without the least vestige of spirit, with no desire to injure anyone. Even Lucy could not provoke a retort from her lips. Whenever shewas allowed to, she stole outside little Agnes's door to listen to hermutterings, and to wonder and wonder if the child was to die. 

"If she dies I shall go mad, " thought the miserable girl, "for she hasnot only been frightened, but she has been turned against me. Who couldhave done it?"

Miss Frost had returned; Rosamund had also come back (her father wasbetter); but the key to the mystery was still missing. Irene declaredpositively to Rosamund that she had nothing to do with the fright thatlittle Agnes had received; but no one could explain how the hedgehog hadgot into the child's bed. Some one suggested that it had crawled in byitself, but this was repudiated as absolutely impossible. Somebody hadput it there, and no doubt with evil intent. Rosamund thought a gooddeal over the matter. She thought so much that at last she came to acertain conclusion. 

Little Agnes still lay between life and death, and death came nearer andnearer to the little, weakened frame each moment and each hour. ThenRosamund determined to take the doctor into her confidence. She waylaidhim as he came downstairs. 

"Dr. Marshall, " she said, "may I speak to you for a minute?"

"Certainly, Miss Cunliffe, " he replied. 

Rosamund took him into one of the sitting-rooms. She closed the doorbehind them and bolted it. 

"Why do you do that?" he said. 

"Because I am not sure of things. I want to take you into my confidence, and I don't want any one to hear. "

"Well, Miss Cunliffe, you must be brief. "

"First of all, may I ask you what you think of little Agnes? Is she indanger?"

"Undoubtedly she is in danger. "

"Is she so much in danger that she is likely to die?"

"Unless she gets better soon, unless the strange pressure on her brainis removed, she will die, " said the doctor. "The shock has been muchmore severe than any one could have believed possible, even from such anugly thing occurring. But, be that as it may, she is in extreme dangerof her life. "

"Thank you, " said Rosamund. 

"Then you don't want to say anything more?"

"I don't think I do. "

"I will come in again to-night. The child's case is interesting. She isa dear little creature. "

The doctor went away, and Rosamund entered the schoolroom. The girlswere trying to perform their usual tasks. Irene was bending over ahistory-book. There was such a sadness now pervading the house, such anecessary stillness, that all life seemed to have gone out of it. Thewintry weather continued, and it was as gloomy outside as in. MissArcher was in vain explaining a rather interesting point in Englishhistory, to which no one was attending much, when Rosamund entered theroom. All the girls seemed to feel that she had news. 

She had. She marched up to the top of the room and stood there. Ireneonly raised her head; but Lucy, who was pale and had black shadows underher eyes, and Phyllis Flower, who had certainly looked far from well forthe last fortnight, glanced at her with considerable interest. 

"I have something to say, " said Rosamund. 

There was a dead silence for a moment; then Miss Archer said, "I amgiving my history lecture, my dear. "

"You will postpone it, for life--human life--is more precious than factsin old history, " said Rosamund. 

"Certainly, my dear, " said Miss Archer in quite a meek voice; and shesat down and prepared to listen with as much interest as the others. 

"It is this, " said Rosamund. "Little Agnes Frost--I have just seen thedoctor--is most dangerously ill. " Phyllis Flower gave a gasp. "I won'tgo into the particulars of her illness; but the doctor says that unlessa certain load of terror can be immediately removed from her mind shewill die. Yes, she will die. Now, girls, it is quite plain to me, as itis doubtless to all of you, that a most cruel practical joke was playedon little Agnes. Some people can stand practical jokes; some peoplecannot. But those who are cruel enough to exercise them upon littlechildren are really too contemptible even to be spoken about. I wishthis girl or that girl joy who knows that she may be the cause of thedeath of so sweet a child as Agnes Frost. "

Irene lifted a face of agony. She struggled to speak, but no words came. 

"You most of you think, " continued Rosamund, who had watched Irene, andsaw the look on her face, "that my friend Irene Ashleigh is the guiltyperson; but I am quite as certain as I am standing here that she is not. I have watched Irene for some time; and although she did all kinds ofnaughty things--very naughty things--months ago, she has abstained fromanything of the kind for some time. In short, I believe her to beinnocent, and I am going to ask her a direct question to that effect. Now, I shall believe her word, for with all her sins she never told alie yet. Irene, were you the cause of Agnes Frost's terrible shock?"

"I was not, " said Irene stoutly. She stood up as she spoke, and Rosamundwent up and took her hand. 

"Then some one else has done it. I believe Irene's word. "

"And so do I, " said Laura Everett. 

"And so do I, " said Annie Millar. 

"And I also, " exclaimed Agnes Sparkes. 

But Phyllis Flower and Lucy Merriman were silent. 

"Phyllis, what is your opinion?" said Rosamund suddenly. "Don't hesitatenow. If you or any one else in this school has been tempted to commit adastardly and wicked deed, don't let the thought that you may havecaused a child to die rest on your conscience for all your days. Youwill be miserable. Had you or had you not anything to do with the frightwhich little Agnes received?"

"Oh!" said Phyllis; and she suddenly left her seat and fell on herknees. She covered her face with her hands; she swayed backwards andforwards. "Oh, I know--I know! I can't help myself. I did it. "

"You did it--you?" said Rosamund sternly. 

"Phyllis!" cried Lucy. 

"Phyllis, you must speak up. The child's life is at stake. You mustspeak out and tell the truth. "

"Then I will, " said Lucy in a defiant tone. "I didn't know you were sucha coward, Phyllis. "

"Yes, I was a coward, " said Phyllis. "I will tell my part of it. I didwant a week in London, and I was tempted, and I put the hedgehog intoAgnes's bed. "

"You yourself did that? You did that yourself--alone?"

"That is all I am going to tell. "

"Then I will tell the rest, " exclaimed Lucy. "I made her do it. I wasjealous of you, Rosamund, and I always hated you, and I was even morejealous of that horrid Irene and her love for Agnes. I only thought thatI would punish her and you by taking Agnes away from her, and I think Ihave succeeded; but I never thought it would make Agnes ill. I am very, very, very sorry for that;" and, to the surprise of everybody, Lucy, theproud, the haughty, the reserved, burst into tears. 

No one took much notice of her tears, for all eyes were fixed on Ireneand the strange look which was filling her face. After a pause she wentstraight up to Lucy and took her hand. 

"Lucy, will you come with me upstairs?"

"What do you want me to do?" said Lucy, in great astonishment. 

"I want you to come with me, that is all. "

"But why?"

"If you are at all sorry, will you come? There isn't a minute to lose. "

"Yes, go with her--go for heaven's sake!" said Rosamund; and Lucy foundherself going. 

They went up the softly carpeted stairs and down the silent corridor, and then the two girls paused before a door which was partly ajar. Theroom was darkened, and Miss Frost was sitting by a little bed, and alittle voice kept on crying suddenly, "Oh, there never was any Irene, there never was any Irene, and I loved her so! I loved her so! But shewas a fairy, and the fairies took her back again, and--and--oh, I wantto die! I want to die!"

The little hot hands were stretched outside the bedclothes, thebeautiful dark eyes were open wide, and just at that moment Irene, verypale, still holding Lucy's hand, entered the room. Miss Frost stood upin speechless horror. 

"Do sit down again, Miss Frost, " said Irene; and she went straight up tolittle Agnes, who, to the astonishment of every one, no longer shrankfrom her, but, on the contrary, allowed her to hold one of her hands. Irene then turned to Lucy. 

"Lucy, " she said, "speak the truth now this minute, and I will forgiveyou. "

"It was I who did it, " said Lucy. "Go to sleep, and forget all about it. Irene isn't a changeling at all, and she never had anything to do withthe fairies. I was jealous because you loved her and only her, and Iwanted you to hate her, and I got Phyllis Flower to help me, and we putthe hedgehog into your bed; but we didn't guess--we couldn'tguess--that it would make you so ill. "

Little Agnes looked with wide eyes at the speaker. 

"Go away now, " said Irene. "I think she understands. You go away also, Frosty. Please, please go!"

Miss Frost and Lucy found themselves impelled to leave the room, whileIrene lay down on the bed beside the little girl, and taking both herhands, held them fast and whispered softly in the little ear:

"I am no changeling, but your own Irene, and I would rather die thaninjure one hair of your head. Come close, darling; come close. It wasn'tI, but another, and I am no changeling. "

"Oh, my own Irene! My own, own Irene!" whispered the little voice; andthen it grew fainter, and there came a smile on the tiny face, and in afew minutes' time the tired bright eyes closed, and the child slept. 

When the doctor came that evening little Agnes was still sleeping, andIrene was still holding her hands. The fever was going down moment bymoment. The doctor came in and said "Hush!" and whispered to Irene thatshe must on no account stir. She must be close to little Agnes, when shewoke, and he himself would stay in the room, for the child would be veryweak; but doubtless the fever would have left her. He was much puzzledto account for the change; but Rosamund was the one to enlighten him. She just told him that some very mischievous girls had played a trick, but she mentioned no names. For Lucy seemed really broken-hearted; andas to Phyllis Flower, she had cried so hard that her eyes were scarcelyvisible. 

About midnight little Agnes woke in her right mind. She saw Irene, andlifting a tiny white hand, she stroked her cheek. 

"I have had a very bad dream; but I don't seem to remember anything, "she said. 

"Only that you are with me, " said Irene; "and you will be with me all mylife--won't you, little darling?"

By slow degrees little Agnes got well, and when she was well enough sheand Irene and Rosamund left the school; and from that day, as far as Ican tell, Irene has been a changed character: thoughtful thoughspirited, beautiful, talented, but with much consideration for others, and the comfort and joy of her mother's heart. But the one she lovesbest on earth is the one whom she calls her own little Agnes. 

THE END. 

Other books by A. L. BURT COMPANY

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Marjorie Dean College Series

BY PAULINE LESTER. 

Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series. 

Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High School Series will be eagerto read this new series, as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine inthese stories. 

All Cloth bound. Copyright Titles. 

 MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SOPHOMORE MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE JUNIOR MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SENIOR

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Marjorie Dean High School Series

BY PAULINE LESTER

Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series

These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great interest to allgirls of high school age. 

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles

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A Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years. 

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 THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go Camping. 

 THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers. 

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 THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven Cedars. 

 THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; or, Glorify Work. 

 THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos. 

 THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure at Carver House. 

 THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; or, Down Paddles. 

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BY EDITH LAVELL

A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wideexperience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia. 

Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs. 

 THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLEN'S SCHOOL THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP THE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURN THE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIP THE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALS

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The Golden Boys Series

BY L. P. WYMAN, PH. D. 

Dean of Pennsylvania Military College. 

A new series of instructive copyright stories for boys of High SchoolAge. 

Handsome Cloth Binding. 

 THE GOLDEN BOYS AND THEIR NEW ELECTRIC CELL THE GOLDEN BOYS AT THE FORTRESS THE GOLDEN BOYS IN THE MAINE WOODS THE GOLDEN BOYS WITH THE LUMBER JACKS THE GOLDEN BOYS ON THE RIVER DRIVE

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A new series of copyright titles for boys of all ages. 

Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs

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Author of the Famous "Boy Allies" Series. 

The adventures of two boys with the Pennsylvania State Police. 

All Copyrighted Titles. 

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A new series of copyright titles telling of the adventures of three boyswith the Forest Rangers in the state of Maine. 

Handsome Cloth Binding. 

 THE RANGER BOYS TO THE RESCUE THE RANGER BOYS FIND THE HERMIT THE RANGER BOYS AND THE BORDER SMUGGLERS THE RANGER BOYS OUTWIT THE TIMBER THIEVES THE RANGER BOYS AND THEIR REWARD

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The Jack Lorimer Series

BY WINN STANDISH

For Boys 12 to 16 Years. 

All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles

 CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER; or, The Young Athlete of Millvale High. 

 Jack Lorimer is a fine example of the all-around American high-school boys. His fondness for clean, honest sport of all kinds will strike a chord of sympathy among athletic youths. 

 JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS; or, Sports on Land and Lake. 

 There is a lively story woven in with the athletic achievements, which are all right, since the book has been O. K'd by Chadwick, the Nestor of American Sporting journalism. 

 JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAYS; or, Millvale High in Camp. 

 It would be well not to put this book into a boy's hands until the chores are finished, otherwise they might be neglected. 

 JACK LORIMER'S SUBSTITUTE; or, The Acting Captain of the Team. 

 On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling, and tobogganing. There is a good deal of fun in this book and plenty of action. 

 JACK LORIMER, FRESHMAN; or, From Millvale High to Exmouth. 

 Jack and some friends he makes crowd innumerable happenings into an exciting freshman year at one of the leading Eastern colleges. The book is typical of the American college boy's life, and there is a lively story, interwoven with feats on the gridiron, hockey, basketball and other clean honest sports for which Jack Lorimer stands. 

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Our Young Aeroplane Scout Series

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)

BY HORACE PORTER

For Boys 12 to 16 Years. 

All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles

A Series of Remarkable Stories of the Adventures of Two Boy Flyers inThe European War Zone. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN FRANCE AND BELGIUM; or, Saving The Fortunes of the Trouvilles. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN GERMANY. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN RUSSIA; or, Lost on the Frozen Steppes. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN TURKEY; or, Bringing the Light to Yusef. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ENGLAND; or, Twin Stars in the London Sky Patrol. 

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 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT VERDUN; or, Driving Armored Meteors Over Flaming Battle Fronts. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE BALKANS; or, Wearing the Red Badge of Courage Among Warring Legions. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE WAR ZONE; or, Serving Uncle Sam In the Great Cause of the Allies. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS FIGHTING TO THE FINISH; or Striking Hard Over the Sea for the Stars and Stripes. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT THE MARNE; or, Hurrying the Huns from Allied Battle Planes. 

 OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN AT THE VICTORY; or, Speedy High Flyers Smashing the Hindenburg Line. 

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The Boy Allies

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)

With the Navy BY ENSIGN ROBERT L. DRAKE

For Boys 12 to 16 Years. 

All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles

Frank Chadwick and Jack Templeton, young American lads, meet each otherin an unusual way soon after the declaration of war. Circumstances placethem on board the British cruiser, "The Sylph, " and from there on, theyshare adventures with the sailors of the Allies. Ensign Robert L. Drake, the author, is an experienced naval officer, and he describes admirablythe many exciting adventures of the two boys. 

 THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL; or, Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet. 

 THE BOY ALLIES UNDER TWO FLAGS; or, Sweeping the Enemy from the Sea. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON; or, The Naval Raiders of the Great War. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE TERROR OF THE SEA; or, The Last Shot of Submarine D-16. 

 THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE SEA; or, The Vanishing Submarine. 

 THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC; or, Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar. 

 THE BOY ALLIES AT JUTLAND; or, The Greatest Naval Battle of History. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH UNCLE SAM'S CRUISERS; or, Convoying the American Army Across the Atlantic. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE SUBMARINE D-32; or, The Fall of the Russian Empire. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE VICTORIOUS FLEETS; or, The Fall of the German Navy. 

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The Boy Allies

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)

With the Army BY CLAIR W. HAYES

For Boys 12 to 16 Years. 

All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles

In this series we follow the fortunes of two American lads unable toleave Europe after war is declared. They meet the soldiers of theAllies, and decide to cast their lot with them. Their experiences andescapes are many, and furnish plenty of good, healthy action that everyboy loves. 

 THE BOY ALLIES AT LIEGE; or, Through Lines of Steel. 

 THE BOY ALLIES ON THE FIRING LINE; or, Twelve Days Battle Along the Marne. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE COSSACKS; or, A Wild Dash Over the Carpathians. 

 THE BOY ALLIES IN THE TRENCHES; or, Midst Shot and Shell Along the Aisne. 

 THE BOY ALLIES IN GREAT PERIL; or, With the Italian Army in the Alps. 

 THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALKAN CAMPAIGN; or, The Struggle to Save a Nation. 

 THE BOY ALLIES ON THE SOMME; or, Courage and Bravery Rewarded. 

 THE BOY ALLIES AT VERDUN; or, Saving France from the Enemy. 

 THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE STARS AND STRIPES; or, Leading the American Troops to the Firing Line. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH HAIG IN FLANDERS; or, The Fighting Canadians of Vimy Ridge. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH PERSHING IN FRANCE; or, Over the Top at Chateau Thierry. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE GREAT ADVANCE; or, Driving the Enemy Through France and Belgium. 

 THE BOY ALLIES WITH MARSHAL FOCH; or, The Closing Days of the Great World War.