necessary."
But the door was locked, and then began a time of wild mirth. The foodfrom the village shop was as decidedly unwholesome as the mostventuresome little girl could desire. The cakes were nearly leaden inweight, were richly stored with currants, and were underdone; there wereawful-looking lollipops of queer shapes and quaint designs, and therewas ginger-beer of the worst quality, and lemonade which had never madeacquaintance with lemons. But what mattered that? The food thusacquired was all the sweeter because of that wicked little flavour ofwrong-doing about it; and Susie and Ned had also supplied great bags ofnuts and some very green apples, so that these young folks thought itreally was a feast worth being dreadfully naughty to obtain.
They made a table out of some old boxes, and the cakes were cut, and thelemonade went pop, and the dolls' cups and saucers were brought intogreat requisition, and time went very merrily both for the naughtylittle girl and the Rectory children. After the meal came to an endPhyllis began to show the toys she no longer required--therocking-horse, which her father had given her when she was four yearsold, and which she had ceased to ride, and the big, big, wonderfuldolls' house which Susie, aged ten, still found one of the mostfascinating things in the world.
"You can have them all over at the Rectory," said Phyllis, with theroyal airs of a young queen. "You can send for them any day you like;and there is a box full of dolls over there, and a trunk of dolls'clothes. I don't want them--I don't care for those sort of thingswithout playmates. I tired of them long, long ago, but you can havethem."
"Oh, I say, Phyllis," cried Susie, and she put both her arms roundPhyllis's neck, "can't you come and play with all the darling, lovelytoys with playmates over at the Rectory?"
"Yes, I could do that," said Phyllis, looking wistful; "and I love youall," she cried. "I have been an awfully happy girl to-day if it werenot for Miss Fleet."
CHAPTER SEVEN.
When happy times are wrong and come to an end, one generally goesthrough some bad moments. This was the case on the special occasionwhich I am describing. Loud was the fun in the big attic, merry thelaughter.
The rattling of dolls' cups and saucers, the popping of lemonadebottles, and the shrieks of mirth over each volley of wit had come totheir height, when there came a loud knocking at the attic door. Theknocking was immediately followed by the angry turning of the handle,and then by the excited voice of Miss Fleet.
"Open the door immediately, you bad, bad children!" she exclaimed.
"Oh Phyllis, can we hide anywhere?" said Susie.
"No, no, Susie," answered Phyllis; "we are found out, and we have got topay for it. Well, I have enjoyed myself; haven't you?"
"If you don't open the door immediately," said Miss Fleet's voice again,"I shall have it burst open."
"Yes, children, open the door directly," said a sterner, older, gravertone; and then Ralph drew himself up, and Edward prepared for severepunishment, for it was the Rector's voice which now was heard.
"Give me the key, Phyl," said Ralph, turning to the little girl. "Iwill say it was almost altogether my fault."
"You will do nothing of the kind, for it is not true," said Phyllis.
She turned very white, and her lips trembled. She did not like the badmoment which lay before her, but on no account was she going to excuseherself. So she marched--"just as if she were a queen, the darling,"said Susie, describing it afterwards--to the door and unlocked it, andflung it open, and stood with her hair hanging about her shoulders andher frock in disorder, facing the indignant but almost speechless MissFleet and the tall, burly figure of the Rector.
"Well?" said Miss Fleet. "Well, and what have you to say for yourself?"
"I know I have, been very naughty," said Phyllis; "I know it quite well,and,"--her eyes danced--"and I'm _not_ sorry; no, I have had such a goodtime that I'm not sorry. As to the children of the Rectory, they arenot a bit, not one scrap to blame. It was all my doing. I wrote aletter to Ralph when you forbade them all to come, for it was shabby ofyou; and, as you would not allow us to have tea properly downstairs, wehad it here. That is all."
The Rector pushed past Phyllis and walked into the room.
"Come, children," he said. "Phyllis Harringay has made a very frankconfession, and has tried to excuse you all; but I don't excuse you, foryou must have known that you did wrong to come here."
"Of course we did, Father," said Ralph; "but at the same time," headded, "when a girl writes to you, you know, and asks you to help herout of a mess, what is a fellow to do?"
The Rector could not help smiling. "And oh, please, please, MrHilchester," said Phyllis, "do ask Miss Fleet to forgive me! Do, do askher!"
"It will be quite useless," said Miss Fleet. "I am determined that youshall be well punished.--I am obliged to you, Mr Hilchester, for comingto help me. I was really in such despair that I had to get someassistance.--Come, my dear."
She took Phyllis's hand and dragged her from the room. Phyllisstruggled; but Miss Fleet was a strong woman, and Phyllis had no chance.She left the four Rectory children behind her in the attic with all thedelightful debris of the delightful feast, and went downstairs, down anddown, into the proper part of the house, into the dull rooms and thedull routine of her life, knowing that she was naughty, and knowing thatMiss Fleet had a perfect right to punish her.
Miss Fleet took her straight into the schoolroom.
"Here you stay," she said, "for the present. I will talk to you whenyou are calmer. You stay here until I let you out. I am too angry tospeak to you at all just now."
Miss Fleet turned as she spoke, shut the door behind her, locked it, andwent away with the key in her pocket.
"Well!" said Phyllis.
She said this word aloud. She had been angry; she had been excited; shehad gone through what seemed to her every sort of emotion during thelast few hours, and now things had come to this.
"If only Father were at home," thought the Squire's little girl, andthen she sank down on an ottoman in the middle of the room and burstinto tears.
Her heart was very sore. She had not been a good girl, but, oh! she hadenjoyed herself.
"Why is it so nice to be naughty, and why is it that I can't feelsorry?" she said to herself.
She nursed with all her might and main hot anger against her governess,and for a long time succeeded. But the days were short, and by-and-bythe light faded away at the windows, and there was only the firelight inthe room. The fire was a good one; it had a guard in front of it.Phyllis went and poked it up; it blazed, and soon cheerful flashes oflight fell all over the room. There was no lamp nor any other way ofmaking a light. Phyllis crouched down near the fire and tried hard tothink.
"I wonder when I'll _begin_ to feel sorry," she said to herself. "Inall the story-books when the children are naughty they are desperately,madly sorry afterwards, but I'm not one bit sorry--at least not yet."
She nestled down comfortably on the hearthrug. Presently she took apillow from one of the sofas and put it under her head, and thenblinking into the fire and shutting and opening her eyes, she droppedoff to sleep. When she awoke she found that the fire was nearly out;she was stiff and cold, too, from lying on the rug. She started up, andcould not make out where she was.
Presently, however, memory came back to her. How cruel of Miss Fleet toleave her like this! How wrong!--how more than wrong!
"If Father were at home I would tell him he was to send Miss Fleetaway," said the little girl to herself. "She is a horrid, horrid woman;she makes me downright miserable. Oh, how dark it is! and there is nomore coal in the coal-hod, and the fire will soon be out."
She stood up and shook herself, and then she took the poker and pokedwhat fire was left into as good a blaze as she could manage; but it soondied away for want of new fuel, and the little girl, who was now verydesolate and in very low spirits and very hungry, began thoroughly tofeel her punishment.
"I won't stand it," she said to herself. "It is awfully unfair. Shehas no rig
ht to do it."
Phyllis ran to the door, shook it, and began to cry out:
"Open the door, please. Somebody come and open the door. I am here;Phyllis is here."
But nobody answered because nobody heard her. Suddenly she thought ofthe bell. She ran to it and rang it over and over again; but as MissFleet had given positive directions that no one was to approach poorPhyllis in her imprisonment, there was no reply. The fire was now verynearly out.
"Well," said Phyllis to herself, "at this rate she'll kill me. I'll befound frozen to death in the morning; and, oh, I am so hungry!"
But