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 aesthetic. 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 saidalo
ud, "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'?"