CHAPTER XXV.
KITTY "GO-BRAGH" (FOREVER).
But Kitty's happiness was very short-lived, for long before they got toSaltbury Elma was really so ill that she could not hold up her head.Kitty had never seen such severe illness before. She was not easilyfrightened; she had plenty of pluck when a real emergency arose, and shenow determined to do her best for her companion.
"It is all the worry and the misery she has undergone," thought Kitty toherself; "but now that my mind is at rest she will see what a goodfriend I can be to her." When they got to Saltbury she immediatelyordered a cab, and desired the man to drive her to the nearest hotel.
"Oh, Kitty!" gasped poor Elma, "they won't take us in, because we haveno luggage, you know."
"I'll manage it," said Kitty; "no luggage--what does that matter?"
She followed Elma into the cab, and a few moments later the girls foundthemselves at the door of a neat little inn facing the sea. Kitty jumpedout and went straight to the bar.
"I want a nice, quiet bedroom," she said, "with two beds in it."
"Certainly, miss," said the woman, glancing into Kitty's bright face.
"It must be a very quiet room," continued Kitty, "for my companion isill; she has a bad headache, and we must send for a doctor immediately."
"Yes, miss. I'll send the porter out to bring in your luggage."
"That's the annoying part," said Kitty; "we have no luggage."
The woman looked dubious, and turned to glance at a man who approached.
"Two young ladies want a room," she said in a low voice. "One of them isill, and--they have no luggage."
"Then in that case, miss, I am very sorry----" began the man.
But Kitty interrupted him.
"Don't say those words," she began. "I know exactly what you are goingto say, but please don't. We have no luggage, for we--we have run awayfrom school. There now, I have confided in you. Here's father's card. Hewill be responsible for us. Please show us to your very best roomimmediately."
As Kitty spoke she took a card out of her sealskin purse and handed itto the woman.
"Dennis Malone, Castle Malone, County Donegal," was inscribed on thesmall piece of pasteboard. It evidently had a good effect, but a stillgreater effect was produced by the sparkling and lovely eyes of thehandsome girl who spoke in a tone of quiet assurance.
"Father will be so grateful to you for taking us in," she continued. "Itwould be terrible, you know, if you allowed us to wander about thestreets. I am going to telegraph to him now, and he will arrive here, Ihave no doubt, within the next twenty-four hours. I have not much moneywith me," added Kitty frankly, "but father will bring plenty--plenty whenhe arrives."
Again the man and woman whispered together, and now approving andinteresting glances turned in Kitty's direction. The woman presentlysaid:
"Very well, miss, we'll do our best for you. Will you follow me, miss?"
She took Kitty and Elma upstairs and showed them into the best room inthe house. In a very short time poor Elma found herself in bed, withKitty bending over her, kissing her now and then, and whispering kindwords in her ears.
"I have managed beautifully with the people of the hotel," whisperedKitty. "And now, darling, you'll be made so comfortable. I am going tomake up to you for--for what Carrie said I did."
"But you did nothing; it was I who was bad, very bad," cried Elma.
"Oh, don't begin to get remorseful now, while you are ill. Wait, atleast until you are better. I have ordered some fruit and jelly and ice,and I have asked the landlady--isn't she a dear--to send for thedoctor."
"It seems like a dream," said Elma. "Is it possible that everything haschanged so completely, and you--you, Kitty Malone--you to whom I haveacted so badly, are good to me?"
"Yes, yes, I mean to be good to you; but don't begin to fret about yoursins until you are better. Leave unpleasant things alone. Go to sleep,Elma; go to sleep."
Kitty went out of the room and stood and reflected for a few moments onthe landing.
"Here's a state of things," Kitty said to herself; "but on the whole Irather like it. I knew I should be good in emergencies; I felt that itwas in me. I am afraid poor Elma is going to be downright ill. I supposeI did wrong to run away--perhaps I did; but I am so relieved aboutLaurie that nothing else seems to matter now. I will telegraphimmediately to the dear old dad and ask him to come right away here atonce. When I see him and know that Laurie is really saved, I'll justtell him everything. Oh, yes, that is the only--only thing to do."
Kitty went straight to the nearest post office, and in an incrediblyshort space of time the following message was being carried across thewires to Castle Malone:
"AT THE SIGN OF THE RED DOE, SALTBURY.--You will be surprised, father;but I have run away from school. I will tell you everything when I seeyou. I am here with a sick girl who has also run away. We have verylittle money; and I, your Kitty, want you dreadfully. Come to me asquickly as you can.
"KITTY MALONE."
"Bless him," said the girl to herself. "He may be angry for a minute,but this message will bring him on the wings of the wind. Now that ithas gone off I wonder ought I to let them know at Middleton?"
Kitty reflected earnestly over this problem. She quickly, however, madeup her mind to keep her secret to herself.
"A little suspense will be rather good for Alice than otherwise," shethought; "and although Mr and Mrs. Denvers may be anxious about me, theycan but telegraph to father; and as he will know my address already itwon't put him into a taking. Miss Sherrard too can bear it; and as toCarrie, I am really sorry for poor old Carrie, and I should not muchmind having her here; but I think until father comes I will look afterElma my lone self, as they say in Ireland."
Having made up her mind, Kitty went back to the hotel and asked thelandlady, with whom she was now great friends, to send for the bestdoctor in the neighborhood.
Dr. Marchand arrived in the course of the morning, and pronounced Elmato be ill, but not alarmingly so.
"Your young friend is suffering from considerable shock," he said, "andhas evidently also taken a severe cold; but with care and nursing shewill in all probability soon get relief--that is, if the strain fromwhich she is suffering is taken off her mind."
"Oh, I think I can manage that," answered Kitty, nodding to the doctorin a very bright and frank way. Her dark-blue eyes were shining likestars; the color in her cheeks, the set of her beautiful head on herlovely neck, the very arrangement of her clothes fairly bewitched thatgood man. He had seldom seen such sparkling eyes nor such a beautifuldimpled mouth. Kitty's manner completely won Dr. Marchand over to herside, as it had already done the good people at the hotel.
After getting innumerable directions from the doctor, she wentdownstairs to consult with her land lady.
"Now, Mrs. Stacey," she said, "I must buy lots of things, and I wonderif you can help me. I have telegraphed to father to come here; but untilhe does I have only this much;" here she opened her purse and tumbledthe contents on to the landlady's palm.
Mrs. Stacey started back in some astonishment. Really this was a veryfascinating young lady; but she had never met anybody quite so--so outof the common.
"You can reckon it up if you like," said Kitty; "you will see that itdoes not come to two pounds. Now, do you know of a shop that would trustme--give me credit, I mean--for some things?"
"What sort of things, miss?"
"Oh, clothes, and a couple of trunks. You see, we are not respectablewithout trunks, are we?"
"Oh, yes, Miss Malone, you are."
"But do you know of such a shop? Please think very hard, Mrs. Stacey."
"Williamson's round the corner will oblige you to any extent, miss, ifyou mention my name."
"Then I'll go there immediately. Thank you; how very nice you are!" saidKitty.
"Of course I ought not to be nice to you, miss, for it ain't right--no,that it ain't--to encourage runaways."
"When you know our story you will be quite glad you
encouraged us,"laughed Kitty.
"Then perhaps you'll confide in me, miss."
Kitty colored and thought for a moment.
"I think father must know it first," she said. "And now I must rushaway to get the things that poor Elma requires."
During the course of that day it could scarcely be said that KittyMalone was without luggage; for two new trunks presently made theirappearance, full to the brim with all sorts of dainty clothing both forElma and herself.
"Elma," she cried, dancing into the sick-room, "I have got two of themost charming hats you ever laid eyes on. Mine is sweetly becoming tome, and I am sure yours will suit you equally well; they are both bigwhite leghorns, with great bunches of black feathers in front. Won'tthey look sweet with our new muslin dresses? Mine is pink, but I thoughtblue would suit you best. I expect dad to-morrow evening at the latest;and I am going to meet him at the station in my new hat and dress. Therewill be no doubt about his forgiving me when he sees me in them."
Just then there was a tap at the door, and Kitty, rushing to open it,found a telegram awaiting her. She tore it open and read the followingwords:
"Starting from Dublin by the night-boat, with you to-morrow.--DENNISMALONE."
"There, didn't I say he was a darling--the best, best darling in theworld?" cried the excited girl. "Oh, won't he have a _caed milleafaltha;_ won't he? Elma, I am almost beside myself."
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Elma. "What do you meanby those queer words?"
"_Caed mille afaltha_? Oh, they are the Irish for a hundred thousandwelcomes. We put them over our arches and everything when people arecoming home. Oh, they don't speak a half nor a quarter of what ourhearts are full of. Oh father, father, the joy--the joy your poor littleKitty feels at the thought of seeing your darling face again!"
That night again Kitty lay awake, although Elma slept. Strange thoughts,strange and new, were coursing through the young girl's brain.Everything had been a failure, and yet she felt bright and happy andlike her old self once more.
"It is the thought of seeing father," she said to herself. "I was neverfit for England. England and its ways will never suit me, never, never;but when I see father I shall be all right. Oh, to think that he isreally coming, and that Laurie is saved! I must, of course, tell fathereverything; but he won't be angry with Laurie when I tell him the storyin my own way."
Accordingly early the next morning Kitty dressed herself in thefascinating leghorn hat and slipped on the pink muslin dress, and, witha bunch of roses at her belt, sallied forth to the railway station. Shesoon found the right platform, and paced up and down in a fever ofimpatience waiting for the train. As she was doing so, flaunting herpretty little person in a somewhat aggressive way and causing someprim-looking ladies to gaze at her with anything but approval, a handwas laid on her arm, and turning she saw, to her amazement, theextremely indignant faces of Miss Sherrard and Miss Worrick.
"Well, Kitty, after this!" said Miss Sherrard,
"Oh, please don't scold me just now!" said Kitty, with a little gasp;"wait until he comes."
"Until who comes?"
"Father. I am expecting him by this train."
"I am relieved at that," said Miss Sherrard. "I shall have a painfultale to tell him."
"So you may, Miss Sherrard. You may tell him everything; but please letme tell him my story first. You must, you shall; I insist."
The girl's eyes were flashing; she was trembling all over. Just when herhappiness seemed to be at its height, for Miss Sherrard and Miss Worrickto appear!
"Oh, and there's the train!" she cried. "He will be here in a minute;let me see him first. Oh, the train, is stopping, and there he is; I seehim at the very end; there he is with his white hair and--let me go, letme go!"
She rushed from Miss Sherrard's retaining arm and flew up the platform,and a moment later the owner of the pink dress and leghorn hat was beingclasped tightly, tightly to the breast of the magnificent-looking oldgentleman, almost a king in his way, who had suddenly stepped on to theplatform.
"Father, you'll protect me--they have come, they have followed me. Youwill let me tell you my story first? Father! father! oh, feel how myheart is beating!"
"Why, Kitty, asthore; Kitty, Kitty, my own. What is it, Kit? I say, Kit,what is wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing now that you have come; but let me tell you my storyfirst."
"Your story first--why, of course, Kit."
"They are there; speak to them; tell them you will see them afterward.We are staying at the Sign of the Red Doe; tell them that you will seeme first and then you will see them."
"Introduce me to them, Kitty, and calm yourself. Come, Kitty, come."
"Yes, father, yes; it is all right."
Kitty's terrible excitement subsided; leaning on her father's arm, sheapproached the platform where Miss Sherrard and Miss Worrick, bothlooking rather confused, were standing.
"This is my father, Miss Sherrard," said Kitty, introducing DennisMalone, who took off his hat with a grand sweep.
"I am relieved to see you," began Miss Sherrard.
"Pardon me one moment, madam," said Malone; "but Kitty here would liketo tell me her story first. You are her school-mistress, the lady withwhom I have had the pleasure of corresponding?"
"I am, and I have a very, very painful tale to tell you."
"You shall tell me your story afterward."
Here the owner of Castle Malone caught sight of Miss Worrick, and gaveher a bow even more deferential than he had bestowed upon thehead-mistress.
"I am sorry to put you off even for a few moments, ladies," he said;"but you see this little girl, she--she must come first. However badlyshe has behaved, she--she is my only girl, you understand, and I--I musthear her story first. Will you meet us both within an hour at the Signof the Red Doe? Then everything can be explained."
"I wonder if that dreadful girl is to go unpunished in the end," saidMiss Worrick to Miss Sherrard, as they both slowly went to the nearesthotel to wait until the time arranged to meet Kitty and her father atthe Sign of the Red Doe."
"It seems like it," said Miss Sherrard. "But what a splendid old man!Perhaps after all it may be the best thing for Kitty Malone not topunish her, Miss Worrick."
"Oh, Miss Sherrard! I cannot approve of your very lax opinions. Surelypunishment for such terrible wrong-doing--"
"Yes, she behaved badly, but not so badly as Elma, I think we must waitto hear the whole story explained; at present we are more or less in thedark."
"And now, Kit, what is it?" said the squire, when he and his daughterwere ensconced in the little sitting-room at the Sign of the Red Doe.
"Do you mind if I give you one of my real big hugs first?" said Kitty.
"To be sure not, alanna--oh, acushla macree! it is like flowers in Mayto see you again."
"There! I am better now," said Kitty, after she had bestowed one of hermost violent hugs upon her father. "Let me sit on your knee and I willtell you everything."
At the best it was a sad story, a story full of wrong-doing, full ofimpulse, full of passion; and although Kitty tried hard to make Elma'spart of it as light as possible, the squire's eyes blazed and athundering note came into his voice as he listened.
"That's a bad girl, Kitty," he cried; "and you ought to have nothing todo with her."
"But that's exactly it, father--that's what I am coming to. If youwon't let me have anything to do with Elma, why--why, you must punish meterribly. I want you to let me--to let me make Elma my real friend."
"That sort of girl your friend? Not if I know it," said the squire.
"But, please, father, do let me plead for her. I have done her injury,and she--she has never had advantages like the rest of us."
Then Kitty began to coax, and few, very few people could coax like thisIrish girl. Not only with her voice, but with her eyes, with a smilehere and a frown there, she set herself to bring old Squire Malone toher way of thinking. And as always from the time she was a tiny childshe
had been able to twist this old lion round her little finger, so shetwisted him now.
"You have got to do it, father," she said at last. "You have got toforgive Laurie, and you have got to forgive Elma, and----"
"Bless the boy, it was just like his recklessness, Why didn't he comeand tell me? He wasn't afraid of his old father, was he?"
"Well, father, you know you are very fierce when you like."
"Tut! tut! Kitty, don't you begin to scold."
"No; I won't--not if you yield to me. Full and free forgiveness for thewhole three of us; for your Kit----"
"Bless you, child, I have forgiven you already."
"Ay, didn't I know it--didn't I say he was a dear old thing? Now,Laurie--you won't say a word to him?"
"I'll give him a right good scolding."
"Why, then, dad, your scolding never did anybody any harm; your bark isworse than your bite, you know; but there will be no school in Englandfor him, that's what I mean."
"Well, it doesn't seem to have succeeded with you, asthore."
"No more it did. Why, it was breaking the heart in me entirely."
"So you want to come back with me again?"
"That I do, and never, never be a polished lady with manners to thelongest day of my life."
"You want to be Wild Kitty still?"
"Wild, wild, the wildest of Kittys to the end of the chapter."
"And what will your aunts say?"
"Never mind; what you say is the important thing."
"It shall be as you please, Kit. I am sure I have missed you sore, verysore."
"And now, what about Elma?"
"Yes; what do you want me to do for her?"
"I want her to come back with me to Castle Malone for the rest of thesummer."
"Oh, heart alive! child; but I don't think I could take to that sort ofgirl."
"Yes, you will, if I take to her. Now, dad, must I begin it all overagain?"
"No, no; anything to please you, Kit."
"And at the end of the summer, as you have plenty of money, and as I amsure she has repented most bitterly will you send her to Girton?"
"Oh, come, come; I make no promises."
"But I know it is all right, and I am going to rush up to her and tellher everything. Oh, and here come Miss Sherrard and Miss Worrick. Youshall see them without me."
"I declare, upon my word, Kitty, you are the most extraordinarycreature. How am I to face the good ladies?"
"Here they are, father. Please, Miss Sherrard, come in; father will seeyou, and Miss Worrick too."
Kitty flung open the door, and the head-mistress of Middleton School andher subordinate found it closed behind them. They had a short interviewwith Squire Malone--very short. It ended by Miss Sherrard and the squireshaking hands most heartily.
"You did your best for her, and I am awfully obliged to you," said thesquire. "But, after all, she is too wild for England; she had betterstay in her own land."
"I believe you are right," said Miss Sherrard.
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