Susan, and Susan now looked to Annie for sympathy, andboldly suggested that they should get up what she was pleased to call "alark" between them for the punishment of this very dignified young lady.
Annie had never liked Susan, and she now stared at her, and said in herquick way--
"You won't catch me helping you in any of your larks. I've had troubleenough on that score as it is."
Susan gazed at her stupidly, and a dull read spread over her face.
"But I thought you hated Dora and Hester," she said--"I'm sure they hateyou."
Annie was silent.
"You do hate them, don't you?" persisted Miss Drummond.
"It's nothing to you what I feel toward them, Susy," said Annie."Please don't disturb me with any more of your chatter; I am verysleepy, and you are keeping me awake." Thus silenced, Susan had tocontent herself by turning on her back, and going into the land ofdreams; but she was evidently a good deal surprised and disappointed,and began to entertain a certain respect, and even fear, of Annie, whichhad been hitherto unknown to her.
Meanwhile Hester was very busy, very happy, and more satisfied--brighterand better employed than she had ever been in her life before. Nan'slove satisfied the affectionate side of her nature, and all herintellect was strained to the utmost to win honours in the comingstruggle.
She had stuck firmly to her resolve to work for the English compositionprize, and she firmly made up her own mind to leave no stone unturned towin it. What affection she, possessed for Miss Russell was not at allof a character to prevent her from thoroughly enjoying taking the prizeout of her hands. Her love for Dora had been fed by vanity, and was notat all of a deep or noble character. She was some time carefullychoosing the subject of her theme, and at last she resolved to write abrief historical description of the last days of Marie Antoinette. Towrite properly on this subject she had to read up a great deal, and hadto find references in books which were not usually allowed asschool-room property. Mrs Willis, however, always allowed the girlswho were working for the English composition prize to have access to herrather extensive library, and here Hester was often to be found duringplay-hours. Two evenings in the week were also taken up in preparationfor the coming plays, and as Hester was to take rather an important partin one, and a small character in another, she was obliged to devoteherself to getting up her parts during the weekly half-holidays. Thusevery moment was busy, and, except at night, she had little time todevote herself to Nan.
Nan slept in a pretty crib in Hester's room, and each evening the younggirl knelt down by her sister's side, and gazed at her with love whichwas almost motherly swelling in her breast.
All that was best of Hester was drawn out at these moments; somethinggreater than ambition--something far and away above school triumphs andschool jealousies spoke then in her heart of hearts. These momentsfound her capable of being both sympathising and forgiving; thesemoments followed out in her daily life might have made Hester almostgreat. Now was the time, with her eyes full of tears and her lipstrembling with emotion, for Annie Forest to have caught a glimpse of thedivine in Hester; the hardness, the pride, the haughty spirit were alllaid aside, and hers was the true child-heart as she knelt by thesleeping baby. Hester prayed earnestly at these moments, and, in truth,Nan did better for her than any sermon; better for her than even MrsWillis's best influences. Nan was as the voice of God to her sister.
Hester, in her very busy life, had no time to notice, however, a veryslight and almost imperceptible change in bright little Nan. In themornings she was in too great a hurry to pay much heed to the littleone's chatter; in the afternoons she had scarcely an instant to devoteto her, and when she saw her playing happily with the other children shewas quite content, and always supposed that when a spare half-hour didcome in her busy life Nan would rush to her with the old ecstasy, andgive her the old devotion.
One day, toward the end of a very fine May, the girls were all to go fora picnic to some woods about four miles away. They had looked forwardfor several days to this relaxation, and were in the highest state ofdelight and the wildest spirits. After an early dinner they were todrive in several large waggonettes to the place of _rendezvous_, wherethey were to be regaled with gypsy-tea, and were to have a few hours inthe lovely Woods or Burn Castle, one of the show places of theneighbourhood. Mrs Willis had invited the Misses Bruce to accompanythem, and they were all to leave the house punctually at two o'clock.The weather was wonderfully fine and warm, and it was decided that allthe children, even Nan, should go.
Perhaps none of the girls looked forward to this day's pleasure withgreater joy than did Hester; she determined to make it a real holiday,and a real time of relaxation. She would forget her English theme; shewould cease to worry herself about Marie Antoinette; she would cease torepeat her part in the coming play; and she would devote herselfexclusively and determinedly to Nan's pleasure. She pictured the littleone's raptures; she heard her gay shouts of joy, her ceaseless littlerippling chatter, her baby glee, and, above all things, her intensehappiness at being with her own Hetty for the greater part of a wholeday. Hester would ride her on her shoulder, would race with her; allher usual, companions would be as nothing to her on this occasion, shewould give herself up solely to Nan.
As she was dressing that morning she said a word or two to the childabout the coming treat.
"We'll light a fire in the wood, Nan, and hang a kettle over it, andmake tea--such good tea; won't it be nice?"
Nan clapped her hands. "And may I take out my little ummabella(umbrella), case it might wain?" she asked anxiously.
Hester flew to her and kissed her.
"You funny darling!" she said. "Oh, we shall have such a day! You'llbe with your own Hetty all day long--your own Hetty; won't you be glad?"
"Me am," said Nan; "own Hetty, and own Annie; me am glad."
Hester scarcely heard the last words, for the prayer-gong sounded, andshe had to fly downstairs.
At dinner time the girls were discussing who would go with each, and allwere very merry and full of fun.
"Miss Danesbury will take the little children," said Miss Good. "MrsWillis says that all the little ones are to be in Miss Danesbury'scharge."
"Oh, please," said Hester suddenly, "may Nan come with me, Miss Good?She'll be so disappointed if she doesn't, and I'll take such care ofher."
Miss Good nodded a careless acquiescence, and Hester proceeded with herdinner, feeling thoroughly satisfied.
Immediately after dinner the girls flew to their rooms to prepare fortheir expedition. Hastily opening a drawer, Hester pulled out a whitefrock, white pique pelisse, and washing hat for Nan--she meant herdarling to look as charming as possible.
"Oh, dear, Miss Danesbury should have brought her here by now," she saidto herself impatiently, and then, hearing the crunching of carriagewheels on the drive, she flew to the bell and rang it.
In a few moments one of the maids appeared.
"Do you know where Miss Nan is, Alice? She is to go to Burn Castle withme, and I want to dress her, for it is nearly time to go."
Alice looked a little surprised.
"If you please, Miss," she said, "I think Miss Nan has just gone."
"What do you mean, Alice? Miss Good said especially she was to go withme."
"I know nothing about that, Miss; I only know that I saw Miss Forestcarrying her downstairs in her arms about three minutes ago, and theywent off in the waggonette with all the other little children and MissDanesbury."
Hester stood perfectly still, her colour changed from red to white; forfull half a minute she was silent. Then, hearing voices from belowcalling to her, she said in a cold, quiet tone--
"That will do, Alice; thank you for letting me know." She turned to herdrawer and put back Nan's white and pretty things, and also replaced anew and very becoming shady hat which she had meant to wear herself. Inher old winter hat, and looking almost untidy for her, she walked slowlydownstairs and took her place in the waggonette which was dra
wn up atthe door.
Cecil Temple and one or two other girls whom Hester liked very much werein the same waggonette, but she scarcely cared to talk to them, and onlyjoined in their laughter by a strong effort. She was deeply wounded,but her keenest present desire was to hide any feelings of jealousy shehad toward Annie from the quick eyes of her school-fellows.
"Why," suddenly exclaimed Julia Morris, a particularly unobservant girl,"I thought you were going to bring that dear baby sister with you,Hester. Oh, I do hope there is nothing the matter with her."
"Nan has gone on in the first waggonette with the little children," saidHester as cheerfully as she could speak, but she coloured slightly, andsaw that Cecil was regarding her attentively.
Susan Drummond