Girls of the Forest Part 22

"Of course I don't, nursey. I'm twice as happy as I used to be."

"Twice as happy with all them lessons to learn?"

"Yes; twice as happy, and twice as good. She doesn't scold us when we're good. In fact, she's just uncommonly nice. And to-night she says she'll play and sing to us; and it's so delicious to listen to her! Dad comes out of his study just as if she drew him by magic. And I like to learn things. I won't be a horrid pig of an ignorant girl any more. You will have to respect me in the future, nursey. And there's a darling little blouse lying on my bed--pink, like the leaf of a rose. I am to wear it to-night. I expect Aunt Sophia chose it because I'm like a rose myself. I shall look nice, shan't I, nursey?"

"That's all very well," said nurse. "And for my part I don't object to civilized ways, and bringing you up like young ladies; but as to Miss Pen, she's just past bearing. New ways don't suit her--no, that they don't. She ain't come in yet--not a bit of her. Oh! there she is, marching down the corridor as if all the world belonged to her. What have you done to yourself, Miss Pen? A nice mess you are in!"

"I thought I'd collect some fresh eggs for your tea, nursey," said the incorrigible child; "and I had three or four in my pinafore when I dropped them. I am a bit messy, I know; but you don't mind, do you, nursey?"

"Indeed, then, I do. Just go straight to the nursery and get washed."

Penelope glanced at Briar with a wry face, and ran away singing out in a shrill voice:

"Cross patch, draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin."

She disappeared like a flash, and nurse followed her, murmuring angrily.

Briar ran into her bedroom. This room she shared with Patty and Adelaide.

They also were wildly delighted with their beautiful blouses, and had not begun to dress when Briar appeared.

"I say, isn't it all jolly?" said Briar. "Oh, Patty, what a duck yours is!--white. And Adelaide's is white, too. But don't you love mine? I must be a very pretty girl to cause Aunt Sophia to choose such a lovely shade of rose. I wonder if I am really a pretty girl. Do stand out of the way; I want to stare at myself in the gla.s.s."

Briar ran to the dressing-table. There she pushed the gla.s.s into such an angle that she could gaze contentedly at her features. She saw a small, rather round face, cheeks a little flushed, eyes very dark and bright, quant.i.ties of bright brown curling hair, dark pencilled eyebrows, a little nose, and a small pink mouth.

"You are a charming girl, Briar Dale," she said, "worthy of a rose-pink blouse. Patty, don't you just love yourself awfully?"

"I don't know," said Patty. "I suppose every one does."

"The Bible says it is very wrong to love yourself," said Adelaide. "You ought to love other people and hate yourself."

"Well, I am made the contrary," said Briar. "I hate other people and love myself. Who wouldn't love a darling little face like mine? Oh, I am just a duck! Help me into my new blouse, Patty."

The three girls, each with the help of the other, managed to array themselves even to Briar's satisfaction. She was the neatest and also the vainest of the Dales. When she reached the outside corridor she met Verena, looking sweet, gentle, and charming in her pale-blue blouse. They all ran down to the drawing-room, where Miss Tredgold was waiting to receive them. She wore the old black lace dress, which suited her faded charms to perfection. She was standing by the open French window, and turned as her nieces came in. The girls expected her to make some remark with regard to their appearance, but the only thing she said was to ask them to observe the exquisite sunset.

Presently Pauline appeared. She looked pale. There were black shadows under her eyes, and she was wearing a dirty white s.h.i.+rt decidedly the worse for wear. The other girls looked at her in astonishment. Verena gave her a quick glance of pain. Verena understood; the others were simply amazed. Miss Tredgold flashed one glance at her, and did not look again in her direction.

Dinner was announced in quite the orthodox fas.h.i.+on, and the young people went into the dining-room. Mr. Dale was present. He was wearing quite a decent evening suit. He had not the faintest idea that he was not still in the old suit that had lain by unused and neglected for so many long years. He had not the most remote conception that Miss Tredgold had taken that suit and sent it to a tailor in London and desired him to make by its measurements a new suit according to the existing vogue. Mr. Dale put on the new suit when it came, and imagined that it was the old one. But, scholar as he was, he was learning to appreciate the excellent meals Miss Tredgold provided for him. On this occasion he was so human as to find fault with a certain entree.

"This curry is not hot enough," he said. "I like spicy things; don't you, Sophia?"

Miss Tredgold thought this an enormous sign of mental improvement. She had already spoken to cook on the subject of Mr. Dale's tastes.

"Why, drat him!" was Betty's somewhat indignant answer. "In the old days he didn't know sprats from salmon, nor b.u.t.ter from lard. Whatever have you done to him, ma'am?"

"I am bringing him back to humanity," was Miss Tredgold's quiet answer.

Betty raised her eyebrows. She looked at Miss Tredgold and said to herself:

"So quiet in her ways, so gentle, and for all so determined! Looks as though b.u.t.ter wouldn't melt in her mouth; yet you daren't so much as neglect the smallest little sauce for the poorest little _entree_ or you'd catch it hot. She's a real haristocrat. It's a pleasure to have dealings with her. Yes, it's a downright pleasure. When I'm not thinking of my favorite 'ero of fiction, the Dook of Mauleverer-Wolverhampton, I feel that I'm doing the next best thing when I'm receiving the orders of her ladys.h.i.+p."

Another of cook's ideas was that Miss Tredgold was a person of t.i.tle, who chose for the present to disguise the fact. She certainly had a marvellous power over the erratic Betty, and was turning her into a first-rate cook.

"Are you going to give us some of that exquisite music to-night, Sophia?"

asked Mr. Dale when he had finished his dinner. He looked languidly at his sister-in-law.

"On one condition I will," she said. "The condition is this: you are to accompany my piano on the violin."

Mr. Dale's face became pale. He did not speak for a minute; then he rose and went nimbly on tiptoe out of the room.

There was silence for a short time. The girls and their aunt had migrated into the drawing-room. The drawing-room looked sweetly pretty with its open windows, its softly shaded lamps, its piano wide open, and the graceful figures of the girls flitting about. Even Pauline's ugly blouse was forgotten. There was a sense of mystery in the air. Presently in the distance came the sound of a fiddle. It was the sound of a fiddle being tuned. The notes were discordant; but soon rich, sweeping melodies were heard. They came nearer and nearer, and Mr. Dale, still playing his fiddle, entered the room. He entered with a sort of dancing measure, playing an old minuet as he did so.

Miss Tredgold stepped straight to the piano and without any music, played an accompaniment.

"I have won," she thought. "I shall send him away for change of air; then the study must be cleaned. I shall be able to breathe then."

CHAPTER XIII.

NANCY SHOWS HER HAND.

It was not until after breakfast on the following morning that Miss Tredgold said anything to Pauline about the ugly s.h.i.+rt she had chosen to wear on the previous evening.

"My dear," she said then, very gently, "I did not remark on your dress last night; but for the future remember that when I say a thing is to be done, it is to be done. I had a pretty, suitable blouse put into your room for you to appear in last night. Why did you wear that ugly torn s.h.i.+rt?"

"I couldn't help myself," said Pauline.

"That is no reason."

Pauline was silent. She looked on the ground. Miss Tredgold also was silent for a minute; then she said decisively:

"You will wear the new blouse to-night. Remember, I expect to be obeyed.

I will say nothing more now about your forgetting my orders last evening.

Do better in the future and all will be well."

It was with great difficulty that Pauline could keep the tears from her eyes. What was to become of her. She did not dare expose her burnt arm; she could not possibly wear a blouse with sleeves that reached only to the elbow without showing the great burn she had received. If Miss Tredgold found out, might she not also find out more? What was she to do?

"What am I to do, Verena?" she said on the afternoon of that same day.

"What do you mean, Paulie? Your arm is better, is it not?"

"Yes; it doesn't hurt quite so much. But how can I wear the new blouse to-night?"

"Would it not be wiser," said Verena, "if you were to tell Aunt Sophy that you have burnt your arm? It is silly to make a mystery of it."

"But she will make me tell her how I did it."