A Very Naughty Girl

  CHAPTER XVIII.--A RED GIPSY CLOAK.

  Mr. Leeson looked quite well the next morning, and Sylvia ate her scantybreakfast with a happy heart; she no longer felt any qualms at leavingher father for the day. Jasper assured Sylvia over and over again thatall would be well; that without in the least betraying the secret of herresidence in the house, she would see to Mr. Leeson's comforts. Thedifficulty now was for Sylvia to dress in her smart clothes and slipaway without her father seeing her. She did not want to get to CastleWynford much before one o'clock, but she would leave The Priory longbefore that hour and wander about in her usual fashion. No outdoorexercise tired this energetic girl. She looked forward to a whole longday of unalloyed bliss, to the society of other girls, to congenialwarmth and comfort and luxury. She even looked forward with a pleasure,that her father would put down to distinct greediness, to nice,temptingly served meals. Oh yes, she meant to enjoy everything. Shemeant to drink this cup of bliss to the bottom, not to leave one dropuntasted. Jasper seemed to share her pleasure. Jasper burdened her withmany messages to Evelyn; she got Sylvia to promise that she wouldcontrive a meeting between Evelyn and her old maid on the following day.Jasper selected the rendezvous, and told Sylvia exactly what she was tosay to Evelyn.

  "Whatever happens, I must see her," said the woman. "Tell her there aremany reasons; and tell her too that I am hungry for a sight ofher--hungry, hungry."

  "Because you love her so much," said Sylvia, a soft light in her eyes.

  "Yes, my darling, that is it--I love her."

  "And she must love you very much," said Sylvia.

  Jasper uttered a quick sigh.

  "It is not Evelyn's way to love to extremities," she said slowly. "Youmust not blame her, my dear; we are all made according to the will ofthe Almighty; and Evelyn--oh yes, she is as the apple of the eye to me,but I am nothing of that sort to her. You see, dear, her head is a bitturned with the lofty future that lies before her. In some ways it doesnot suit her; it would suit you, Miss Sylvia, or it would suit MissAudrey, but it does not suit little Eve. It is too much for my littleEve; she would do better in a less exalted sphere."

  "Well, I do hope and trust she will be glad to see you and glad to hearabout you," said Sylvia. "I will be sure to tell her what a dear oldthing you are. But, oh, Jasper, do you think she will notice the smartdress made out of her dress?"

  "You can give her this note, dear; I am sending her a word of warningnot to draw attention to your dress. And now, don't you think you hadbetter get into it, and let me see you out by the back premises?"

  "I must go and see father just for a minute first," said Sylvia.

  She ran off, saw her father, as usual busily writing letters, and bentdown to kiss him.

  "Don't disturb me," he said in a querulous tone. "I am particularlybusy. The post this morning has brought me some gratifying news. Alittle investment I made a short time ago in great fear and tremblinghas turned up trumps. I mean to put a trifle more money--oh, my dear! Ionly possess a trifle--into the same admirable undertaking (gold-mines,my dear), and if all that the prospectus says is true I shall be in verytruth a rich man. Not yet, Sylvia--don't you think it--but some day."

  "Oh father! and if you are----"

  "Why, you may spend a little more then, dear--a little more; but it iswrong to squander gold. Gold is a beautiful and precious thing, my dear;very beautiful, very precious, very hard to get."

  "Yes, father; and I hope you will have a great deal of it, and I hopeyou will put plenty--plenty of money into the--into the----"

  "Investment," said Mr. Leeson. "The investment that sounds so promising.Don't keep me now, love."

  "I am going out for a long walk, father; it is such a bright, sunshinyday. Good-by for the present."

  Mr. Leeson did not hear; he again bent over the letter which he waswriting. Sylvia ran back to Jasper.

  "He seems quite well," she said, "and very much interested in what thepost brought him this morning. I think I can leave him quite safely. Youwill be sure to see that he has his food."

  "Bless you, child!--yes."

  "And you will on no account betray that you live here?"

  "Bless you, child! again--not I."

  "Well then, I will get into my finery. How grand and important I shallfeel!"

  So Sylvia was dressed in the brown costume and the pretty brown velvethat, and she wore a little sable collar and a sable muff; and then shekissed Jasper, and telling her she would remember all the messages,started on her day of pleasure. Jasper saw her out by the back entrance.This entrance had been securely closed before Jasper's advent, butbetween them the woman and the girl had managed to open the rusty gate,although Mr. Leeson was unaware that it had moved on its hinges for manya long day. It opened now to admit of Sylvia's exit, and Jasper wentslowly back to the house, meditating as she did so. Whatever hermeditations were, they roused her to action. She engaged herself busilyin her bedroom and kitchen. She opened her trunk and took out a smallbag which contained her money. She had plenty of money, still, but itwould not last always. Without Sylvia's knowing it, she had often spentmore than a pound a week on this establishment. It had been absolutelynecessary for her to provide herself with warm bedclothes, and to add tothe store of coals by purchasing anthracite coal, which is almostsmokeless. In one way or another her hoard was diminished by twentypounds; she had therefore only forty more. When this sum was spent shewould be penniless.

  "Not that I am afraid," thought Jasper, "for Evelyn will have to give memore money--she must. I could not leave my dear little Sylvia now that Ifind the dreadful plight she is in; and I cannot stay far from my dearEvelyn, for although she does not love me as I love her, still, I shouldsuffer great pain if I could not be, so to speak, within call. I wonderif my plan will succeed. I must have a try."

  Jasper, having fulfilled her small duties, sat for a time gazingstraight before her. The hours went on. The little carriage clock whichshe kept in her bedroom struck eleven, then twelve.

  "Time for him to have something," thought Jasper. "Now, can I possiblymanage? Yes, I think so."

  She took a saucepan, which held something mysterious, out into the openair. It was an old, shabby saucepan. She hid it in the shrubbery. Shethen went back to her room and changed her dress. She was some littletime over her toilet, and when she once more emerged into view, the oldJasper, to all appearance, had vanished.

  A dark, somewhat handsome woman, in a faded red gipsy cloak, now stoodbefore the looking-glass. Jasper slipped out the back way, pushed asidethe rusty gate, said a friendly word to Pilot, who wagged his tail withapprobation, and carrying a basket on her arm, walked slowly down theroad. She met one or two people, and accosted them in the true Romanystyle.

  "May I tell your fortune, my pretty miss? May I cross your hand withsilver and tell you of the fine gentleman who is going to ride bypresently? Let me, my dear--let me."

  And when the young girl she addressed ran away giggling, littlesuspecting that Jasper was not a real gipsy, Jasper knew that her schemehad succeeded. She even induced a village boy to submit to herfortune-telling, and half-turned his head by telling him of a treasureto be found, and a wife in an upper class who would raise him once forall to a position of luxury. She presently pounded loudly on The Priorygates. Mr. Leeson had an acute ear; he always sat within view of thesegates. His one desire was to keep all strangers from the premises; hehad trained Pilot for the purpose. Accordingly Jasper's knocks were notheeded. Sylvia was always desired to go to the village to get thenecessary food; trades-people were not allowed on the premises. Hisletter occupied him intently; he was busy, too, looking over files ofaccounts and different prospectuses; he was engaged over that mostfascinating pastime, counting up his riches. But, ah! ah! how poor hewas! Oh, what a poverty-stricken man! He sighed and grumbled as hethought over these things. Jasper gave another furious knock, andfinding that no attention was paid to her imperious summons, she pushedopen the gate. Pilot immediately, as his custom was, appeared on guard.He stood
in front of Jasper and just for a moment barked at her, but shegave him a mysterious sign, and he wagged his tail gently, went up toher, and let her pat him on the head. The next instant, to Mr. Leeson'sdisgust, the gipsy and the dog were walking side by side up to the door.He sprang to his feet, and in a moment was standing on the steps.

  "Go away, my good woman; go away at once. I cannot have you on thepremises. I will set the dog on you if you don't go away."

  "One minute, kind sir," whined Jasper. "I have come to know if you haveany fowls to sell. I want some fowls; old hens and cocks--not youngpullets or anything of that sort. I want to buy them, sir, and I amprepared to give a good price."

  These extraordinary remarks aroused Mr. Leeson's thoughtful attention.He had long been annoyed by the barn-door fowls, and they were decidedlyold. He had often wished to dispose of them; they were too tough to eat,and they no longer laid eggs.

  "If you will promise to take the fowls right away with you now, I do notmind selling them for a good price," he said. "Are you prepared to givea good price? I wonder where my daughter is; she would know better thanI what they are worth. Stand where you are, my good woman; do notattempt to move or the dog Pilot will fly at your throat. I will call mydaughter."

  Mr. Leeson went into the house and shouted for Sylvia. Of course therewas no answer.

  "I forgot," muttered Mr. Leeson. "Sylvia is out. Really that childover-exercises; such devotion to the open air must provoke unnecessaryappetite. I wish that horrid gipsy would go away! How extraordinary thatPilot did not fly at her! But they say gipsies have great power over menand animals. Well, if she does give a fair price for the birds I may aswell be quit of them; they annoy me a good deal, and some time, inconsequence of them, some one may discover my treasure. Good heavens,how awful! The thought almost unmans me."

  Mr. Leeson therefore came out and spoke in quite a civil tone for him.

  "If you will accompany me to the fowl-house I will show you the birds,but I may as well say at once that I won't give them for a mere nothing,old as they are--and I should be the last to deceive you as to their age.They are of a rare kind, and interesting from a scientific point ofview."

  "I do not know about scientific fowls," replied the gipsy, "but I wantto buy a few old hens to put into my pot."

  "Eh?" cried Mr. Leeson in a tone of interrogation. "Have you a recipefor boiling down old fowls?"

  "Have not I, your honor! And soon they are done, too--in a jiffy, so tospeak. But let me look at them, your honor, and I will pay you far morethan any one else would give for them."

  "You won't get them unless you give a very good sum. You gipsies, if thetruth were known, are all enormously rich."

  He walked round to the hen-house, accompanied by the supposed gipsy andPilot. The fowls, about a dozen in number, were strutting up and downtheir run. They were hungry, poor creatures, for they had had but aslight meal that morning. The gipsy pretended to bargain for them,keeping a sharp eye all the time on Mr. Leeson.

  "This one," she said, catching the most disreputable-looking of thebirds, "is the one I want for the gipsies' stew. There, I will give youninepence for this bird."

  "Ninepence!" cried Mr. Leeson, almost shrieking out the word. "Do youthink I would sell a valuable hen like that for ninepence? And you sayit can be boiled down to eat tender!"

  "Boiled down to eat tender!" said the supposed gipsy. "Why, it can bemade delicious. There is broth in it, soup in it, and meat in it. Thereis dinner for four, and supper for four, and soup for four in this oldhen!"

  "And you offer me ninepence for such a valuable bird! I tell you what: Iwish you would show me that recipe. I will give you sixpence for it. Ido not know how to make an old hen tender."

  "Give me a quarter of an hour, your honor, and you will not know thatyou are not eating the youngest chicken in the land."

  "But how are you to cook it?"

  "I will make a bit of fire in the shrubbery, and do it by a recipe of myown."

  "You are sure you will not go near the house?"

  "No, your honor."

  "But how can a fowl that is now alive be fit to eat in a quarter of anhour?"

  "It is a recipe of my grandmother's, your honor, and I am not going togive it until you taste what the bird is like. Now, if you will go awayI will get it ready for you."

  Mr. Leeson really felt interested.

  "What a sensible woman!" he said to himself. "I shall try and get thatrecipe out of her for threepence; it will be valuable for my little bookof cheap recipes; it would probably sell the book. How to make fourdinners, four lunches, and four plates of soup out of an old hen. A mosttaking recipe--most taking!"

  He walked up and down while the pretended gipsy heated up the stew shehad already made out of a really tender chicken. The poor old hen wastied up so that she could not cackle or make any sound, and put into thebottom of the supposed gipsy's basket; and presently Jasper appearedcarrying the stew in a cracked basin.

  "Here, your honor, eat it up before me, and tell me afterwards if abetter or a more tender fowl ever existed."

  It was in this way that Mr. Leeson made an excellent repast. He washighly pleased, for decidedly the boniest and most scraggy of the fowlshad been selected, and nothing could be more delicious than this stew.He fetched a plate and knife and fork from his sitting-room, where healways kept a certain amount of useful kitchen utensils, ate his dinner,pronounced it to be the best of the best, and desired the gipsy to leavethe balance in the porch.

  "Thank you," he said; "it is admirable. And so you really made that outof my old hen in a few minutes? I will give you threepence if you willgive me the recipe."

  "I could not sell it for threepence, sir--no, not for sixpence; no, notfor a shilling. But I should like to make a bargain for the rest of thefowls."

  "How much will you give for each?"

  "Taking them all in a heap, I will give sixpence apiece," replied thegipsy.

  Mr. Leeson uttered a scream.

  "You have outdone yourself, my good woman," he said. "Do you think I amgoing to give fowls that will make such delicious and nourishing foodaway for that trivial sum? My little daughter is a very clever cook, andI shall instruct her with regard to the serving up of the remainder ofmy poultry. If you will not give me the recipe I must ask you to go."

  The gipsy pretended to be extremely angry.

  "I won't go," she said, "unless you allow me to tell you your fortune; Iwon't stir, and that's flat."

  "I do not believe in gipsy fortune-tellers. I shall have to call thepolice if you do not leave my establishment immediately."

  "And how will you manage when you don't ever leave your own grounds? Iam thinking it may be you are a bit afraid. People who stick so close tohome often have a reason."

  This remark frightened Mr. Leeson very much. He was always in terrorlest some one would guess that he kept his treasure on the premises.

  "Look here," he said, raising his voice. "You see before you the poorestman for my position in the whole of England; it is with the utmostdifficulty that I can keep soul and body together. Observe the place;observe the house. Do you think I should care for a recipe to make oldfowls tender if I were not in very truth a most poverty-strickenperson?"

  "I will tell you if you show me your palm," said the gipsy.

  Now, Mr. Leeson was superstitious. It was the last thing he creditedhimself with, but nevertheless he was. The gipsy, with her dancing blackeyes, looked full at him. He had a shadowy, almost a fearful idea thathe had seen that face before--he could not make out when. Then itoccurred to him that this was the very face that had bent over him foran instant the night before when he was coming back from his fit ofunconsciousness. Oh, it was impossible that the gipsy could have beenhere then! Had he seen her in a sort of vision? He felt startled andalarmed. The gipsy kept watching him; she seemed to be reading himthrough and through.

  "I saw you in a dream," she said. "And I know you will show your hand;and I know I have things to tell you, both good
and bad."

  "Well, well!" said Mr. Leeson, "here is sixpence. Tell me yourgibberish, and then go."

  The gipsy looked twice at the coin.

  "It is a poor one," she said. "But them who is rich always give thesmallest."

  "I am not rich, I tell you."

  "They who are rich find it hardest to part with their pelf. But I willtake it."

  "I will give you a shilling if you'll go. But it is hard for a very poorman to part with it."

  "Sixpence will do," said the gipsy, with a laugh. "Give it me. Now showme your palm."

  She pretended to look steadily into the wrinkled palm of the miser'shand, and then spoke.

  "I see here," she said, "much wealth. Yes, just where this cross lies isgold. I also see poverty. I also see a very great loss and a judgment."

  "Go!" screamed the angry man. "Do not tell me another word."

  He dashed into the house in absolute terror, and banged the hall doorafter him.

  "I said I would give him a fright," said Jasper to herself. "Well, if hedon't touch another morsel till Miss Sylvia comes home late to-night, hewon't die after my dinner. Ah, the poor old hen! I must get her out ofthe basket now or she will be suffocated."

  The gipsy walked slowly down the path, let herself out by the frontentrance, walked round to the back, got in once more, and handed the oldhen to a boy who was standing by the hedge.

  "There," she said. "There's a present for you. Take it at once and go."

  "What do I want with it?" he asked in astonishment. "Why, it belongs toold Mr. Leeson, the miser!"

  "Go--go!" she said. "You can sell it for sixpence, or a shilling, orwhatever it will fetch, only take it away."

  The boy ran off laughing, the hen tucked under his arm.