Girls of the True Blue. Meade L. T.
is nothing mysterious, darling; but perhaps, as you have asked me, I may as well tell. Nan is the dear little daughter of a great friend of mine, a Mrs. Esterleigh, who died about three months ago. At her death Nan came here.”
“Oh!” said Augusta.
She was silent for a minute, thinking.
“And is she no relation?” she asked then.
“No; only the daughter of a very great friend.”
“Is she, Aunt Jessie, a – rich little girl?”
“Rich in friends, I hope, Augusta; but rich, poor darling, in nothing else. Her mother did not leave any money behind her. But it is a great pleasure to have Nan, and I hope she will live here always.”
“Then you have adopted her.”
“Practically; only the matter cannot be fully arranged for a time.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“There are some other people – friends of her father’s – who have also the right to adopt Nan.”
“What a curious, romantic story! People do not as a rule want to adopt little penniless girls.”
“I want to adopt her; and I do not quite like that tone in your voice, Augusta. Nan is not under the slightest obligation to me, and I wish you to understand that. Her mother once on a most important occasion in my life did me a kindness which I can never, never forget, and for her sake nothing that I could do for her child would be too much.”
“And you will not tell me what it is?”
“I have told no one yet. When Nan is older she shall know.”
“And these other people?”
“The Asprays. I hope Nan will not go to them. They have quite another reason for wishing to have her as one of the family. Now, do not ask me any more. I hear our guests arriving. Will you stay with me, or go upstairs to Nan?”
“I think I will stay if you do not mind; I can go up to Nan later on. What an interesting story! And what a dear aunty you are!”
Augusta rose as she spoke, and kissed Mrs. Richmond on her cheek.
Several ladies came into the room, and one and all admired Augusta; for her manners were good, and she had an attentive, thoughtful way which stood her in excellent stead with her elders. By-and-by she went upstairs of her own accord, and then the ladies turned to Mrs. Richmond and praised her, saying what a very nice girl they considered her.
When Augusta went back to the schoolroom she found that Nan’s foot was really very painful.
“I must not walk any more,” she said. “What have you been doing, Augusta? Have you had a good time?”
“I have been listening to a story about you,” said Augusta in a marked voice.
She looked full at Nan, who felt her heart beat, and who coloured uncomfortably. Just then there came the sound of laughter and of voices, and the next instant the two little girls and their governess entered the room. They brought big baskets of violets and primroses. The air of the schoolroom was full of the sweet scent of the violets. Kitty rushed up to Nan and kissed her: then they both saw Augusta, who was standing in the background, and uttered a shout of delight. Augusta went up to them, kissed them both, and stood close to Nan.
“I must run up at once to see how Pip is,” cried Kitty. “I have been thinking of the darling all the time I have been coming home. I wonder if he is better. Do not keep me, please, Nan. I won’t be a minute, but I want just to see how he is.”
She was dashing out of the room when Nan’s voice came faintly – very faintly – on the air:
“Kitty, one minute first!”
“Little fool!” said Augusta. She bent down close to the child and laid her hand across her mouth.
Nobody else had heard Nan’s low tones. Nora followed Kitty out of the room; she also ran upstairs to see the sick rat.
“You are too late now,” said Augusta. “Just keep your own counsel. Pretend that your foot is aching; that will account for your queer looks. And, by-the-bye, I let Mrs. Richmond understand that you had slipped on the stairs and strained your foot, and you must stick to the story when she asks you about it. Now then, just keep your courage, hold your tongue, and all will be well.”
There came a piercing cry from poor Kitty, who rushed into the room, her face white, and tears in her big eyes.
“Pip is dead!” she said.
She flung herself into a chair, panting slightly. It was not her nature to cry, and she did not cry now; but her face looked white and startled. Augusta gave her a quick look. Nan shivered all over with sympathy for Kitty and longing to speak; but Augusta’s eyes met hers, and there was such a world of warning and determination in their glance that she succumbed.
“Why, what is the matter,” said Miss Roy, who at that moment entered the room. “What a tragic group! Nan looking as though the world were coming to an end, and Kitty – Why, my darling, what is wrong?”
“It is Pip,” said Kitty. “He is dead. He died when I was out. He must have had a fit or something, for he looks so queer; and nothing could have got at him, for the cage is firmly fastened, and just as I left it. I will never love another rat. I want to go away by myself for a little. Do not talk to me. Oh! I will not make a fuss, but I cannot be very cheerful to-night.”
She went sadly out of the room.
“And Nan, what is wrong with you?” said her governess. “You were not well when we left, and you look worse now.”
“It is my foot,” said Nan. “I said that I had hurt it – don’t you remember? And it has got worse; it hurts very much indeed.”
“Poor little girl! You must let me look at it.”
Nan pulled down her stocking and showed a much-swollen ankle.
“My dear child, this will never do. I must bandage it immediately. You have given yourself quite a nasty sprain; for the next few days you must keep your foot up. Have you been using it much this afternoon?”
“Only a very little.”
“I am afraid I have been to blame,” said Augusta, speaking at this juncture in her most amiable voice. “I did not know that poor little Nan was suffering from a sprained ankle, and asked her to go a few messages for me. I am ever so sorry!”
“But why did you go, Nan? Why did you not tell Augusta?”
“I did not want to,” replied Nan.
“Well, you were very silly. Now, dear, I am going to bathe your poor ankle and bind it up.”
This was done very skilfully. Nan’s foot was supported on a chair; and soon, had it not been for the dead rat, and for the fact that she was concealing the truth, she might have been almost happy.
CHAPTER X. – A MYSTERY
All in good time Nan’s foot got better, but for a week she was kept away from school, and during that week Augusta contrived to rivet her chains. At the end of that time she was able to walk again, and, to her own infinite relief, she went back to school. She learnt her lessons just as carefully as ever; she was pronounced by her teachers to be a remarkably clever and intelligent child; but there was a change in her face. It had not the look that it had worn when first she had come to the Richmonds’, but in some respects its expression was even sadder. Then it was just grief, absolute and terrible, for the loss of her mother; now there was a new expression in the frank eyes and sensitive lips, which puzzled those who looked at her. In process of time Kitty had got over the death of Pip. Her affections were deep, and nothing would induce her to talk about the rat; but she was a merry and happy child in other respects. She would not have a rat again, she said – at least, not for a very long time; but she attended to her mice, and looked after Nora’s rat, and saw that the dogs and kittens were comfortable, and that Polly had a good time in her cage. Not the faintest