CHAPTER XXVIII.
"IS WRONG RIGHT?"
The day arrived when Augusta was to go to the Cinderella dance at theAsprays'. All her plans were made. She was to go unknown to herfamily. She was to return equally unknown. As far as she wasconcerned, not a single member of the Richmond family was ever todiscover this escapade.
How delicious the whole thing sounded! How she would enjoy herself!She was to be daring and disobedient: she was to defy all the lawswhich ruled her life. She was to slip away under cover of thedarkness, and come back again in the small hours, and no one was toknow. She was to wear her prettiest dress, and dance, and be merry;and no one was to find out. And all the time she would pose as the bestof girls--the noblest member of Captain Richmond's battalion--thesoldier who on the great day of the prize-giving would be presentedwith the Royal Cross.
"Some day, perhaps, I will tell them," she said to herself--"somelong, happy, delicious day in the future, when I have been to Parisand got all my fun out of that; when I am engaged to a sort of prince,when my trousseau is being made, when my wedding presents arearriving. When life can scarcely present me with anything more, then,_perhaps_, I will tell how I slipped out and went to a dance inthe dead of night, and came back, and no one ever found out. I willtell then of my pleasure. But, oh, the present fun--the present fun!"
Now, for a long time Augusta had made up her mind that she would tellher secret to no one; but on looking into matters she feared it wouldbe absolutely impossible for her to get back again into the house ifshe had not a confederate. The right person to share it--the only one,indeed, who could possibly help her--was Nan. Nan must make thingspossible for her. She thought she knew a way of making her do this.
Accordingly, after breakfast on the auspicious day, Augusta called thelittle girl into her room.
"Come here, Nancy," she said. "Come close to me; I want to look atyou. Do you know that you are an extremely pretty girl? When you aregrown-up you will be very much better-looking than either Kitty orNora. I only wish I had a face like yours. Such splendid eyes, and suchthick hair, and---- Why, what is the matter?"
"Only I hate being flattered," answered Nancy.
"Oh, as to that," replied Augusta, giving her head a toss, "I amthe last person to flatter any one; but you are so strange, Nancy,one doesn't know how to take you. However, to the point. I am inreality, although you don't think it, your very good friend. I amalways taking your part--_always_, Nancy. Oh! it is useless for you toshake your head and look so glum and obstinate; it is a fact. Andnow---- Why, child, how you stare!"
"What do you want me to do, Augusta?" said Nan.
Augusta could not help bursting out laughing.
"What a cute young un it is!" she said. "You are quite right, Nancymine; I do require a little favour, which I hope you will grant--justa tiny thing, Nancy. Will you grant it to your own poor Gussie wholoves you so much?"
"Tell me what it is, Augusta."
"Oh, how downright we are! Well, listen; it is for your private ear,little Nan. Your dear Augusta is disposed to have a bit of aspree--just a tiny morsel of adventure on her own account--somethingnot a bit wrong, but something that no one in the house, except sweetNancy, is to know about. Will Nancy help Augusta, or will she not?"
"I would rather not, Gussie. I would rather not, really. I know it isnot right. I am so tired--oh, so dreadfully tired!--of doing naughtythings for you. Please don't ask me; and please don't do it,Gussie--please, please don't."
Augusta laughed again.
"What a sweet, touching little plea!" she said. "But just too late, mydear. Augusta is going to have her fun, and whether you help or not,she intends to go through with it. You can make things easy for me,and I shall get into no scrape, and be your humble and devoted servantfor ever after; or you can refuse, and I shall still do the naughtything--although, in that case, with a certain amount of risk. Will yousubject me to that, Nancy, when _you_ alone can make it quitesafe?"
"I don't see why I shouldn't," replied Nancy. "If you choose to bevery naughty, why should I be naughty too?"
"Oh darling, you are quaint; you really are the most _naive_creature I have ever come across. Now let me explain. I shall reallynot be naughty at all. It is not as if my own father and mother orAunt Jessie were here. I owe no oath of fealty to that delightfulmodel, Uncle Peter; if he disapproves, that is his own lookout. Inshort, Nancy, this is it (I will let the cat out of the bag): I wantto go to-night to a small dance--the most harmless, childish littledance--at the Asprays'. Flora and I have arranged everything, and I amto meet her at the other side of our wood. She drives me to theirhouse in a dogcart, and will bring me back again. And what I want you,sweet Nancy, to do is to open the door for me--the hall door,darling--yes, no less. I shall fling some gravel up to thiswindow--for you must sleep here to-night, Nancy--and when you hear ityou must patter, patter, patter downstairs on your ten little pinktoes and open the door for your darling, who will slip in and blessyou ever after."
"I am not going to do it," said Nancy. "It is very, very wickedindeed, and I won't do it."
"Oh, come, how high and mighty we are!"
"I won't do it, Gussie. I won't tell, of course; but let me go,please. I don't want to be in the room with you. I don't like you atall, Augusta. I don't want to have anything more to do with you."
Nancy backed away; her eyes were full of fear. Augusta's eyes flashedwith downright anger.
"It doesn't matter to me," she said, "whether you like me or not.Before long now our dealings with each other will be at an end. But Ishould like to keep in the good graces of the family till afterprize-day. Nancy, I could make it worth your while. You have done agood many wrong things since you and I made each other's acquaintance.You have been unhappy about it. Do you remember that paper you made mewrite, in which I promised to give you leave to tell your own storywhen we got back to town?"
"Of course," said Nancy, "I remember all about it; it is the comfortof my life."
"I thought so, and that is why I saved it for you."
"_You_ saved it for _me_! _You!_ I have it myself in my desk inmy room."
"Once that little desk was left open," said Augusta, "and a bird ofthe air came and informed somebody of the fact; and somebody, guidedby that mischievous little bird, went to see, and found that thesongster was right. Behold!"
As she spoke Augusta opened a drawer and took out a sheet of paper,and held it high above Nancy's head.
"Oh, how mean and dreadful you are!" said Nancy. "Give it back; giveit back."
"Certainly--to-morrow morning, after you have let me in."
"Gussie, what am I to do? I cannot"----
"Now listen. I will give this back to you to-morrow morning. I will domore for you--to-morrow morning. You are in trouble about your birdSunbeam. The supposition all over the house is that you neglectedit--forgot its water and its seed--in short, that but for Miss Royyour pretty bird would have died of starvation. Now, I can put thatright for you--to-morrow morning. And there is another thing. Has itnever occurred to you to wonder why Mrs. Richmond, who is no relationat all, is so good--so very good--to you? I can tell you that story,and I can also explain about something with regard to the Asprayswhich will put you into such a comfortable position that you willliterally have two homes to choose from, having absolute and completeright to live in either. Few girls are as lucky as that. You can holdup your head very high, Nancy Esterleigh, after I have told you what Ishall tell you--to-morrow morning. Now, having had several littleescapades with your conscience, will you have one more--the last--andso put yourself into such a position that the worries of the past needbe worries no longer?"
"Is it true that you can tell me all these things?" said Nancy.
"True as I am standing here."
"All about Mrs. Richmond?"
"All about Mrs. Richmond."
"And the true story about my darling, darling bird?"
"I can clear you as regards the charge of cruelty; is not thatsufficient? Th
ere, Nancy, you are yielding; I thought you were."
"I don't know whether I am yielding or not," said Nancy, "_but_you are tempting me;" and she ran across the room to the window. Shelooked out. Kitty was going past with her apron full of corn; she wasabout to feed the fowls in the farmyard. Seeing Nancy, she called outto her:
"There is a fresh brood of the downiest and sweetest little chicksout, Nancy; won't you come and see them?"
"Yes," called back Nancy; "in five minutes."
"I will wait for you under the window if you will be quick," criedKitty.
Nancy turned with an eager face to Augusta.
"Tell me exactly--exactly what you want me to do," she said.
"Oh, you little duck, you darling!" said Augusta. "How happy you willbe this time to-morrow! And _how_ obliged to you I am!"
"Only tell me quick, Augusta."
"Well, it is this, you little love--this, and this only. You must bepretty loving to me to-day. You must, as it were, fawn on me, comeclose to me after dinner and snuggle up to me, slip your hand insidemy arm, and all that sort of thing--you understand. And you are to sayto me before the others--Uncle Peter and all the rest--you are to say,'Gussie darling, _may I_ sleep with you to-night?' And I am tosay 'No;' and you are to coax and coax me, and in the end I am toyield. You are to do it in your very, very prettiest way, Nancy, andthe others are to hear you. Then, to-night I am going to pretend tohave a bit of a headache, and go to my room quite early. And you areto say, 'Poor Gussie, her head is bad; I think I will go and bathe itwith aromatic vinegar;' and you are to slip up to my room, and youneed not come out again as far as the others are concerned. Then,after I am gone, if any one comes to the door, you are to say, 'Hush!Gussie's head is very bad;' and of course the some one will go away.And then, oh! you are not to sleep, for that would be fatal; you areto lie awake thinking over the wonderful things I am going to tell youto-morrow. And at about half-past twelve, or perhaps nearer oneo'clock, I will throw a little gravel up to the window; and then youare to slip down, softly, softly, and open the door and let me in.Afterwards we _will_ have a time. I will tell you about mypartners, and how much Mr. Archer, that distinguished American, admiresme; and I will even repeat to you the compliments they have made tome. And then in the morning you will have your reward. This is simpleenough, isn't it, Nan?"
"Yes," said Nan.
"And you will do it, darling--you will do it?"
"Nancy, Nancy," shouted Kitty from below, "the five minutes are up."
"Yes, I'll do it," answered Nancy. "It is very wicked--awfullywicked--but I'll do it;" and she walked out of the room.
"How flushed your cheeks are, Nancy!" said Kitty when the little girljoined her.
"Never mind, Kit," answered Nancy in an almost cross tone for her."Come and let us look at the pretty chicks. I am so sick of beingflattered!"
"Has Augusta been doing that?"
"Oh yes--no--I mean I don't know; but don't let us bother about her."
"You are getting quite fond of Gussie, aren't you, Nan?"
Nan opened her eyes very wide. An emphatic "No" was on her lips, butinstead she said, "Yes--of course."
They went to the farmyard and spent an hour of what was perfect blissto Kitty, examining the birds. Then they each occupied a hammock inthe garden. Kitty read a new story-book, and Nancy lay with her eyesshut, thinking of the dreadful thing which had befallen her.
"I was wicked before," she said to herself, "but never as wicked as Ishall be to-night. Oh, how I hate myself! But she has got my paperwhich has her promise that I may tell. She can put things right aboutmy darling bird; and she can tell me the story which Mrs. Richmond haspromised to tell me some day. Oh! she has tempted me, and I will doit; I must, for I am too miserable to stay any longer as I am."
"Nancy," said Uncle Peter's voice at that moment, "will you come for awalk with me? I want to go down to the seashore; will you be mycompanion?"
"Won't you go, Kitty?" asked Nancy, for the Captain's society was byno means to her taste just then.
"I can't," answered Kitty, "for I have promised to go to the villagewith Miss Roy and Nora."
"Do you refuse me?" asked the Captain, putting on his most quizzicalexpression.
"No; of course not, Uncle Peter. I shall be delighted," she answered.
He took her hand and helped her out of her hammock, and they were soongoing by their favourite walk in the woods to the seashore.
"How silent you are, Nancy! Are you not going to cheer me up and makemy walk pleasant?" asked Uncle Peter.
"I think I have a headache," replied Nancy. "Anyhow, I feel ratherdull." Then she looked suddenly up at the Captain, and said with eageremphasis, "I know what I really want. I want to ask you a question."
"Certainly, my dear little girl; what is it?"
"Will you answer it without thinking that it has anything to do withme?"
"I will try, Nancy."
The Captain's eyes were dancing as he fixed them on Nancy's flushedface.
"Oh! please don't look at me like that; it is just an ordinaryquestion. Perhaps I was reading a book and came to it; anyhow, thatexplanation will do."
"Yes, as a _preface_; now for the question."
"Is it right," said Nancy--"I mean, could a boy--say a boy, or perhapsa girl, or a man, or a woman--could they, any of them, be put in thesort of position that they must do wrong to make things come right?Would it be possible?"
"I have never heard of the occasion where wrong could be put right bythat means," said the Captain. "Can you give me an instance? Then,perhaps, I could explain better."
"No, I can't give you any instance. I was just thinking about it."
"And it has made you very grave."
"It--oh no, it hasn't made me grave."
"Nancy, it has troubled you."
"Please, Uncle Peter, I was telling you, you know, because of thebook."
"The book of your heart, Nancy; why don't you confide in mealtogether?"
"There is nothing to confide; _indeed_ there is not."
"Only if you had known of such a case you would be quite happy?"
"I should be _happier_."
"Then let me tell you quite frankly that I don't think there is such acase. When people do wrong they have got to turn round and do right infuture. But it is impossible, at least to my way of thinking, to dofurther wrong in order to make the old wrong come right."
"I see," said Nancy. Her brow cleared; she took the Captain's hand andpressed it warmly. "I am very glad I belong to your battalion," shesaid--"very, very glad."
"Has the fight been difficult, Nancy?"
"You don't know--you will never know---- _Difficult_! Oh yes."
"I am your captain, and again I say you ought to confide in me."
"I will, whatever happens, when we go back to town. And thank you somuch, Uncle Peter!"
"You will be able to go on reading that book now with a sense ofsatisfaction."
"The book is the story of a fight," said Nancy very slowly. "I think,"she added, "the poor, mangled soldier won't cave in to the enemy."