Oh, well, yes, if you like--let's have blindman's buff and a magic lantern;" and then, dropping a mock curtsey toher companions, she dashed out of the South Parlour.
"Insufferable girl!" said Dora Russell; "I wonder you try to draw herout, Cecil. You know perfectly that we none of us care to have anythingto do with her."
"I know perfectly that you are all doing your best to make her lifemiserable," said Cecil, suddenly and boldly. "No one in this school hasobeyed Mrs Willis's command to treat Annie as innocent--you arepractically sending her to Coventry, and I think it is unjust andunfair. You don't know, girls, that you are ruining poor Annie'shappiness."
"Oh, dear! she doesn't seem at all dull," said Miss West, a second-classgirl. "I do think she's a hardened little wretch."
"Little you know about her," said Cecil, the colour fading out of herpale face. Then, after a pause, she added, "The injustice of the wholething is that in this treatment of Annie you break the spirit of MrsWillis's command--you, none of you, certainly tell her that she isguilty, but you treat her as such."
Here Hester Thornton said a daring thing.
"I don't believe Mrs Willis in her heart of hearts considers Annieguiltless."
These words of Hester's were laughed at by most of the girls, but DoraRussell gave her an approving nod, and Cecil, looking paler than ever,dropped suddenly into her seat, and no longer tried to defend her absentfriend.
"At any rate," said Miss Conway, who as the head girl of the wholeschool was always listened to with great respect. "It is unfortunatefor the success of our entertainment that there should be all thisdiscussion and bad feeling with regard to Miss Forest. For my own part,I cannot make out why the poor little creature should be hunted down, orwhat affair it is of ours whether she is innocent or not. If MrEverard and Mrs Willis says she is innocent, is not that enough? Thefact of her guilt or innocence can't hurt us one way or another. It isa great pity, however, for our own sakes, that we should be out with hernow, for, whatever her faults, she is the only one of us who is evergifted with an original thought. But, as we can't have her, let us setto work without her--we really can't waste the whole evening over thissort of talk."
Discussions as to the coming pleasure were now again resumed withvigour, and after a great deal of animated arguing it was resolved thattwo short plays should be acted; that a committee should be immediatelyformed, who should select the plays, and apportion their various partsto the different actors.
The committee selected included Miss Russell, Miss Conway, HesterThornton, Cecil Temple, and two other girls of the second-class. Theconference then broke up, but there was a certain sense of flatness overeverything, and Cecil was not the only girl who sighed for the merrymeetings of last year--when Annie had been the life and soul of all theproceedings, and when one brilliant idea after another with regard tothe costumes for the fancy ball had dropped from her merry tongue.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
STEALING HEARTS.
When Annie ran out of the South Parlour she found herself suddenly faceto face with Mrs Willis.
"Well, my dear child," said the head-mistress in her kindest voice,"where are you running to? But I suppose I must not ask; you are, ofcourse, one of the busy and secret conclave in the South Parlour?"
"No. I have left them," said Annie, bending her head, and after herusual habit when agitated, shaking her hair about her face.
"Left them?" repeated Mrs Willis, "you mean, dear, that they have sentyou for some message."
"No. I am not one of them. May I go into the garden, Mrs Willis?"
"Certainly, my dear."
Annie did not even glance at her governess. She pushed aside the baizedoor, and found herself in the great stone hall which led to theplay-room and school-room. Her garden hat hung on a peg in the hall,and she tossed it off its place, and holding it in her hand ran towardthe side door which opened directly into the garden. She had a wildwish to get to the shelter of the forsaken hammock and there cry out herwhole heart. The moment she got into the open air, however, she was metby a whole troop of the little children, who were coming in after theirusual short exercise before going to bed. Miss Danesbury was with them,and when Annie ran out by the open door, she entered holding two littleones by the hands. Last in this group toddled Hester's little sisterNan. The moment she saw Annie her little face broke into smiles; sheheld out two hands eagerly, and fled to the young girl's side.
"Where dat pitty toy?" she said, raising her round face to Annie's;"some one did buy dat toy, and it's vedy pitty, and me wants it--where'sdat toy?"
Annie stooped down, and spoke suddenly and impulsively to the littlechild.
"You shall have the toy for your very own, Nan, if you will do somethingfor me?"
Nan's baby eyes looked straight into Annie's.
"Me will," she said emphatically; "me want dat toy."
"Put your arms round me, little darling, and give me a great, tighthug."
This request was great fun to Nan, who squeezed her little arms roundAnnie's neck, and pressed her dimpled cheek to her lips.
"Dere," she said triumphantly, "will dat do?"
"Yes, you little treasure, and you'll try to love me, won't you?"
"Me do," said Nan, in a solemn voice; but then Miss Danesbury calledher, and she ran into the house.
As Nan trotted into the house she put up her dimpled hand to wipesomething from her round cheek--it was a tear which Annie Forest hadleft there.
Annie herself, when all the little ones had disappeared, walked slowlyand sadly down toward the shady walk. The sun had just set, and thoughit was now nearly May, and the evenings long, the wind was sufficientlycold to cause Annie to shiver in her thin house frock. At all timesutterly fearless with regard to her health, she gave it no thought now,but entering the walk where she knew she should not be disturbed, shelooked up at the hammock, and wondered whether she should climb into it.She decided, however, not to do so--the great and terrible weight oftears which had pressed close to her heart were relieved by Nan'sembrace; she no longer cared to cry until she could cry no longer--theworst of her pain had been soothed by the sweet baby graciousness of thelittle one.
Then there darted into poor Annie's sore heart and perplexed brain thatdangerous thought and temptation which was to work so much future painand trouble. She already loved little Nan, and Nan, as most childrendid, had taken a fancy to her. Annie stood still, and clasped her handsas the dark idea came to her to steal the heart of little Nan fromHester, and so revenge herself on her. By doing this she would touchHester in her most vulnerable point--she would take from her what shevalued most. The temptation came swiftly, and Annie listened to it, andthought how easy it would be to carry it into effect. She knew wellthat no little child could resist her when she chose to exercise hercharms--it would be easy, easy work to make that part of Nan which wasmost precious all her own. Annie became fascinated by the idea; howcompletely then she would have revenged all her wrongs on Hester! Someday Hester would bitterly repent of her unjust prejudice toward her;some day Hester would come to her, and beg of her in agony to give herback her darling's love; ah! when that day came it would be her turn totriumph.
She felt more than satisfied as the temptation grew upon her; she shutout persistently from her view all the other side of the picture; shewould not let herself think that the work she was about to undertake wascruel and mean. Hester had been more than unjust, and she was going topunish her.
Annie paced faster and faster up and down the shady walk, and wheneverher resolution wavered, the memory of Hester's face as she had seen itthe same night in the South Parlour came visibly back and strengthenedit. Yes, her turn had come at last. Hester had contrived since herentrance into the school to make Annie's life thoroughly miserable.Well, never mind, it was Annie's turn now to make her wretched.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
IN BURN CASTLE WOOD.
In concentrating her thoughts of revenge on Hester Annie ceased totrouble
her head about Dora Russell. She considered Hester a cruellerenemy than Dora. Hester belonged to her own set, worked in her ownclass, and would naturally, had things not turned out so unjustly, sounfairly, have been her friend, and not her enemy. Dora had nothing tosay to Annie, and before Hester's advent into the school had scarcelynoticed her existence. Annie therefore concentrated all her powers onpunishing Hester. This gave her an aim and an occupation, and at firstshe felt that her revenge might give her real pleasure.
Susan Drummond now shared Annie's bedroom, and Annie was rather startledone evening to hear this phlegmatic young person burst out into a strongtirade against Hester and Dora. Dora had managed, for some inexplicablereason, to offend