A Fluttered Dovecote Part 7

"That's him as I ketched atop of the wall, I suppose," said the creature. "My, how he did cut when I showed him the bull's-eye!

Thought it was a cracking case, my dear; but I'm up to a thing or two, and won't split. But I say, my dear, how's Ann? And so you took me for him, did you? Well, I ain't surprised."

And then if the wretch didn't try to draw me nearer to him: but I started back, horrified.

"Well, just as you like, you know," exclaimed the ruffian. "But, I say, you'll let me drink your health, you know, won't you?"

"Oh, yes," I exclaimed, interpreting his speech into meaning "Give me a s.h.i.+lling," which I did, and he loosed my arm.

"That's right," he said. "I thought you were a good sort. Feel better, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," I exclaimed. "Please let me go now."

"Let you go," he said; "to be sure. I was just going to offer you my advice, that you'd better step in before the old gal misses you. He won't come again to-night now, I scared him too much; so ta-ta, my dear--I won't spoil sport next time."

And then, almost before the wretch's words had left his lips, I fled, nor ceased running until I reached the side door, which I entered, closed, and fastened again; and then glided upstairs to my room, where Patty still snored and Clara watched; but my acts seemed all mechanical, and I can only well recollect one, and that was my throwing myself upon her breast, and bursting into tears.

At last I was once more in bed, my heart still beating tumultuously; and directly after Clara crept in to my side, when it was of no use, I could not keep it in, for it did seem so kind and sympathising of her, though I believe it was only to satisfy her curiosity. So I had a thorough good cry in her arms, and told her of all the terrors of that dreadful night; when instead of, as I expected, trying to console me, the nasty thing had the heart to say,--

"Well, dear, it's all very fine; but I should not like to be you!"

CHAPTER NINE.

MEMORY THE NINTH--A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.

I suppose it comes natural to people to feel sleepy at night; for I did not mention it before, but I had terribly hard work to keep awake on that night when I had such a horrible adventure, while soon after telling that unfeeling Clara all about it I fell asleep, and they had such a task to wake me when the bell rang. But I'm sure any one might have pitied my feelings upon that terrible morning. When I was thoroughly awake it was just as if there was a weight upon my mind, and for some time I could not make out what was the matter.

Then came, with a rush, the recollection of my adventure, so that I first of all turned crimson with shame, and then as white as a dreadful marble statue. For somehow things do look so very different of a night to what they do by broad daylight, and I do believe that, after all, one of the greatest of missionary efforts would be a more general diffusion of gas and electric lights; for I'm sure if people are all made like me, we should not have been half so wicked if we had two suns instead of a sun and a moon, and that last half her time making no s.h.i.+ne at all. I believe it's night that makes most people wicked; for fancy me going to meet Achille under the elms in broad daylight! Why, the idea is preposterous!

But oh! how bad, and wicked, and ashamed, and repentant, and conscience-smitten I did feel. It was dreadful only to think of it, for months after. It seemed so horrible to me, how that I had rested my head against the b.u.t.tons of that shockingly low wretch of a policeman's coat and not known the difference; while what Achille would have thought had he but known, I could not--nay I dare not--think.

Then there was that Clara looking at me with such a dreadful mocking smile, that I felt as if I could have turned her into stone--for she was oozing all over with triumph; and yet all the time I was so angry with myself, for I knew that I was completely in her power, as well as in that of the constable--a low wretch!--who might say anything, and perhaps tell the servants. And, by the way, who was Ann, that he had asked me about?

"Why," I exclaimed, trembling, "it must be Sarah Ann, the housemaid; and I shall never dare to look her in the face again. Oh, Laura Bozerne," I said, "how you have lowered yourself!"

I had a quiet cry, and was a little better.

But I felt very guilty when I went down, and every time I was addressed I gave quite a start, and stared as if expecting that whoever spoke knew my secret; while during lessons, when a message came from Mrs Blunt that she wanted to see me in the study, I felt as if I should have gone through the floor; and on turning my eyes to Clara, expecting sympathy, there she was actually laughing at me.

"If this is being in love," I said to myself, "I mean very soon to be out of it again;" and then I stood trembling and hesitating, afraid to stir.

"Did you hear the lady princ.i.p.al's summons, Miss Bozerne?" said that starchy Miss Furness, in her most dignified style.

I turned round, and made her a most elaborate De Kittville obeisance, and I saw the old frump toss her head; for I know she always hated me because I happened to be nice-looking--mind, I don't say I was nice-looking, for I am merely writing down now what people said who were foolish enough to think so. Achille once said I was--but there, I will not be vain.

So I crossed the hall, then to the study door, and stood with my hand raised to take hold of the white china handle; but just then I heard Mrs Blunt give one of her little short, sharp, pecking coughs, such as she gave when muttering to herself to make up a scolding for some one.

No sooner did I hear that cough than I dropped my hand down to my side, and stood hesitating upon the mat, afraid to enter; for who could help feeling a coward under such circ.u.mstances, I should like to know? It was very dreadful; and though I kept telling myself that I was not a bit afraid of Mrs Blunt, yet somehow I seemed to be just then. However, I kept trying to make up my mind to bear it all, and to ask her pardon, and to promise that it should not occur again if she would not write to mamma; but my tiresome mind would not be made up, but kept running about from one thing to another, till I declare I almost felt ready to faint.

"Oh, Achille, Achille!" I murmured, "I must give you up. What I suffer for your sake! _Oh, mon pauvre coeur_!"

I felt better after that, for it seemed that I was to return to my old quiet state of suffering; and the determination not to run any more risks began to nerve me to bear the present suffering; almost as much as the rustle of the Fraulein's silk dress upon the stairs. And of course I would not allow her to see me waiting at the door, and afraid to go in; so I tapped, and entered.

There sat the lady princ.i.p.al, writing a letter, and frowning dreadfully--though she always did that when there was a pen in her hand; and as she just looked up when I entered, she motioned me to a chair with the feather end of the bead and silk adorned quill she held.

"Take a seat, Miss Bozerne," she muttered, between her patent minerals, as we used to call them; and there I was, sitting upon thorns, metaphorically and really--for the chair I took had the seat all worked in roses and briars and cactus, while there was that tiresome old thing with the little gla.s.s dew-drop k.n.o.bs at the end of the sprays in her cap, nodding and dancing about every time she came to a hard word.

"She is writing home, I know," I said to myself, "and then she means to take me back; for it must all be found out--and, oh dear! oh dear! what shall I do?"

The scene there would be at home came up before me like a vision, and I fancied I could hear papa storming, though he is not very particular, and his rage is soon over, just like a storm, and he is all suns.h.i.+ne after. But mamma. Ah! how she would go on, and tell me that I had been sent down to cure me of my _penchant_ for the curate, to descend so low as a policeman.

"Just like a common cook in an area!" I seemed to hear her say. But it was only Mrs Blunt mumbling to herself as she sat writing.

And then I half felt as if I should like to run away altogether; and next I thought that if some one had been there all ready with a fly or a post-chaise, I would have gone with him anywhere.

Directly after I gave such a jump, for there was the crunching of a step upon the gravel sweep, and I felt the blood all flush up in my face again; for it was his step--his, and it seemed that he was to be brought in, and we were to be confronted, and there would be quite a _denouement_; but then I felt as brave as could be, for was not he close at hand to take my part? And I felt ready to say things that I could not have uttered, and to hear scoldings that would have killed me five minutes before.

I was just feeling ready to sink through the carpet when the old wretch raised her head.

"Ah! there's Monsieur Achille," she cried in a decisive tone, and now I felt as if it must be coming. But no, the tiresome old thing still kept me upon the thorns of suspense; while I heard the front door squeak and his step in the hall, the opening and closing of a door, and I felt as if I could have rushed to meet him and tell him of the horrible state of fear that I had been in; besides which, I knew that he would have a _corrected exercise_ to return me, and I was burning to see what he would say.

"And now, Miss Bozerne," said Mrs Blunt, laying down her pen, and crossing her hands upon the table, so as to show her rings, while she spoke in the most stately of ways--"and now Miss Bozerne, I have a crow to--er--er--I have, that is to say, a few words to speak to you concerning something that has lately, very lately, come to my ears; and you know, my dear, that I have extremely long ears for this sort of thing."

And then she tried to draw herself up, and look august; but the vulgar old thing only made herself more common and obtrusive, while I began to tremble in the most agitated manner.

"Miss Furness tells me, Miss Bozerne--" she continued.

"Oh, how came she to know, I wonder?" I thought to myself.

"Miss Furness tells me," she said again, "of various little acts of insubordination, and want of attention to lessons and the instruction she endeavours to impart--to impart, Miss Bozerne; and you must understand that in my absence the lady a.s.sistants of my establishment are to have the same deference shown them as I insist upon having paid to myself."

And then she went on for ever so long about delegated authority, and a great deal more of it, until she had worked herself into a regular knot, with her speech all tangled; when she sent me away to the French lesson.

And how can I describe my feelings! I don't remember who that was that put iron bands round his heart to keep it from breaking with sorrow, while they all went off, crack! crack! one after another afterwards, from joy; but I felt when I left Mrs Blunt's room, precisely as that somebody must have felt at that time.

To have seen the dignified salute which was exchanged, no one could have thought it possible that a note had ever pa.s.sed between Monsieur Achille and poor me. When I took my seat at the bottom of that long table, being the last arrival, not a look, not a glance--only a very sharp reprimand, which brought the tears in my eyes, because my exercise was not better; while my translation of English into French was declared to be _affreux_.

Oh! it did seem so hard, after what I had risked for him the night before; but I soon fired up, as I saw Miss Furness looking quite pleased and triumphant; for I'm sure the old thing was as jealous as could be, and watched me closely, and all because I would not creep to her, and flatter and fawn, like Celia Blang. So I would not show how wounded I was, nor yet look at Achille when he went away, and there was no communication at all between us that day.

I felt very much hurt and put out, for that Miss Furness spared no pains to show her dislike to me; and she must have had some suspicion of me, for during many lessons I never had an opportunity of enjoying further communication with dear Achille than a long look. Miss Sloman, as I have said before, had always hated me; but she was too much of a n.o.body to mind. However, I would not notice Miss Furness's cantankerousness, for I really did not mind a bit about her having told Mrs Blunt, so delighted was I to feel that the other matter had not been found out; and I went on just the same as usual, and really worked hard with my studies.

One morning--I can't say when, for though I have tried I really can't recollect, and the time, names, and things are so mixed up together-- however, it was a fine morning, and we were going for one of those dreary morning two-and-two walks, crawling in and out of the Allsham lanes like a horrible Adam-tempting serpent. I had taken great pains with my dress, for I thought it possible that we might pa.s.s Achille's lodging; and, as I fancied he had been unnecessarily angry and cool with me at the last lesson, I wished him to feel a little pain in return, for I was determined not to give him a single look. Mamma had just sent me down one of the prettiest straw-coloured flowery bonnets imaginable--a perfect zephyr, nothing of it at all hardly--and it matched capitally with my new silk; while the zebra parasol seemed quite to act as a relief. So I put them on with new straw-kid gloves, took the parasol, and then--call it vanity if you like--I stopped and had one last, triumphant glance in the mirror that hangs at one end of the long pa.s.sage before I went down.

Mrs Blunt was going with us that day; and, in spite of the late scolding I had received, she was quite smiling and pleasant with me, and I saw her bestow one or two satisfied glances upon my attire--for she never found fault with her pupils for dressing too well. But I did not take pains with myself so as to please her, and act as show-card for her nasty old establishment; so I would not look pleased, but pretended that I had not yet got over the scolding, and was dreadfully mortified, as I went and took my place beside Clara.

As we were the two tallest girls, we always went first, and had our orders to walk slowly, once more, on account of half-a-dozen children who came last with the teachers and Mrs Blunt herself, and so we filed out of the gates and along the winding, green lane.

No one could help feeling happy and light-hearted upon such a beautiful bright morning, especially as we turned through the fields, and went across towards the river. The trees were all green, and the gra.s.s s.h.i.+ning with flowers, birds singing, the sky above a splendid azure, and all around looking quite lovely; while the soft, delicious air fanned one's cheek, so that I could not help agreeing with Clara when, after a long silence, she heaved a deep sigh, and said,--

"Oh, how delightful it is to feel young and be in love."