A Very Naughty Girl, Page 6

  CHAPTER VI.--THE HUNGRY GIRL.

  Now, the Squire had produced a decidedly softening effect upon Evelyn,and if she had not had the misfortune to meet Lady Frances just as sheleft his room, much that followed need never taken place. But LadyFrances, who had never in the very least returned poor Frank Wynford'saffection for her, and who had no sentimental feelings with regard toEvelyn--Lady Frances, who simply regarded the little girl as atroublesome and very tiresome member of the family--was not disposed tobe too soothing in her manner.

  "Come here, my dear," she said. "Come over here to the light. What haveyou got on?"

  "My pretty red velvet dress," replied Evelyn, tossing her head. "Asuitable dress for an heiress like myself."

  "Come, this is quite beyond enduring. I want to speak to you, Evelyn. Ihave several things to say. Come into my boudoir."

  "But, if you please," said Evelyn, "I have nothing to say to you, and Ihave a great deal to do in other directions. I am going back to Jasper;she wants me."

  "Oh, that reminds me," began Lady Frances. "Come in here this moment, mydear."

  She took Evelyn's hand and dragged the unwilling child into her privateapartment. A bright fire burned in the grate. The room looked cozy,cheerful, orderly. Lady Frances was a woman of method. She had piles ofpapers lying neatly docketed on her writing-table; a sheaf of unansweredletters lay on one side. A Remington typewriter stood on a table near,and a slim-looking girl was standing by the typewriter.

  "You will leave me for the present, Miss Andrews," she said, turning toher amanuensis. "I shall require you here again in a quarter of anhour."

  Miss Andrews, with a low bow, instantly left the room.

  "You see, Evelyn," said her aunt, "you are taking up the time of a verybusy woman. I manage the financial part of several charities--in short,we are very busy people in this house--and in the morning I, as a rule,allow no one to interrupt me. When the afternoon comes I am ready andwilling to be agreeable to my guests."

  "But I am not your guest. The house belongs to me--or at least it will bemine," said Evelyn.

  "You are quite right in saying you are not my guest. You are myhusband's niece, and in the future you will inherit his property; but ifI hear you speaking in that rude way again I shall be forced to punishyou. I can see for myself that you are an ill-bred girl and will requirea vast lot of breaking-in."

  "And you think you can do it?" said Evelyn, her eyes flashing.

  "I intend to do it. I am going to talk to you for a few minutes thismorning, and after I have spoken I wish you to clearly understand thatyou are to do as I tell you. You will not be unhappy here; on thecontrary, you will be happy. At first you may find the necessary rulesof a house like this somewhat irksome, but you will get into the way ofthem before long. You need discipline, and you will have it here. I willnot say much more on that subject this morning. You can find Audrey, andshe and Miss Sinclair will take you round the grounds and amuse you, andyou must be very much obliged to them for their attentions. Audrey is mydaughter, and I think I may say without undue flattery that you willfind her a most estimable companion. She is well brought up, and is acharming girl in every sense of the word. Miss Sinclair is hergoverness; she will also instruct you, but time enough for that in thefuture. Now, when you leave here go straight to your room and desireyour servant--Jasper, I think, you call her--to dress you in a plain andsuitable frock."

  "A frock!" said Evelyn. "I wear dresses--long dresses. I am not a child;mothery said I had the sense of several grown-up people."

  "The garment you are now in you are not to wear again; it is unsuitable,and I forbid you to be even seen in it. Do you understand?"

  "I hear you," said Evelyn.

  "Go up-stairs and do what I tell you, and then you can go into thegrounds. Audrey is having holidays at present; you will find her withher governess in the shrubbery. Now go; the time I can devote to you forthe present is up."

  "I had better give you this first," said Evelyn.

  She thrust her hand into her pocket and took out the ill-spelt and nowexceedingly dirty note which poor Mrs. Wynford in Tasmania had writtento Lady Frances before her death.

  "This is from mothery, who is dead," continued the child. "It is foryou. She wrote it to you. I expect she is watching you now; she told methat she would come back if she could and see how people treated me. Iam going. Don't lose the note; it was written by mothery, and she isdead."

  Evelyn laid the dirty letter on the blotting-pad on Lady Frances'stable. It looked strangely out of keeping with the rest of hercorrespondence. The little girl left the room, banging the door behindher.

  "A dreadful child!" thought Lady Frances. "How are we to endure her? Mypoor, sweet Audrey! I must get Edward to allow me to send Evelyn toschool; she really is not a fit companion for my young daughter."

  Miss Andrews came back.

  "Please direct these envelopes, and answer some of these lettersaccording to the notes which I have put down for you," said LadyFrances; and her secretary began to work. But Lady Frances did not askMiss Andrews to read or reply to the dirty little note. She took it upvery much as though she would like to drop it into the fire, but finallyshe opened it and read the contents. The letter was rude and curt, andLady Frances's fine black eyes flashed as she read the words. Finally,she locked the letter up in a private bureau, and sitting down, calmlyproceeded with her morning's work.

  Meanwhile Evelyn, choking with rage and utterly determined to disobeyLady Frances, left the room. She stood still for a moment in the longcorridor and looked disconsolately to right and to left of her.

  "How ugly it all is!" she said to herself. "How I hate it! Mothery, whydid you die? Why did I ever leave my darling, darling ranch inTasmania?"

  She turned and very slowly walked up the white marble staircase.Presently she reached her own luxurious room. It was in the hands of amaid, however, who was removing the dust and putting the chamber inorder.

  "Where is Jasper?" asked the little girl.

  "Miss Jasper has gone out of doors, miss."

  "Do you know how long she has been out?" asked Evelyn in a tone of keeninterest.

  "About half an hour, miss."

  "Then I'll follow her."

  Evelyn went to her wardrobe. Jasper had already unpacked her younglady's things and laid them higgledy-piggledy in the spacious wardrobe.It took the little girl a long time to find a tall velvet hat trimmedwith plumes of crimson feathers. This she put on before the glass,arranging her hair to look as thick as possible, and smirking at herface while she arrayed herself.

  "I would not wear this hat, for I got it quite for Sunday best, but Iwant her to see that she cannot master me," thought the child. She thenwrapped a crimson silk scarf round her neck and shoulders, and soattired looked very much like a little lady of the time of Vandyck. Oncemore she went down-stairs.

  Audrey she did not wish to meet; Miss Sinclair she intended to behideously rude to; but Jasper--where was Jasper?

  Evelyn looked all round. Suddenly she saw a figure on the other side ofa small lake which adorned part of the grounds. The figure was too faroff for her to see it distinctly. It must be Jasper, for it surely wasnot in the least like the tall, fair, and stately Aubrey, not like MissSinclair.

  Picking up her skirts, which were too long for her to run comfortably,the small figure now skidded across the grass. She soon reached the sideof the lake, and shouted:

  "Jasper! Oh Jasper! Jasper, I have news for you! You never knew anythinglike the----"

  The next instant she had rushed into the arms of Sylvia Leeson. Sylviacried out eagerly:

  "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

  Evelyn stared for a moment at the strange girl, then burst into a heartylaugh.

  "Do tell me--quick, quick!--are you one of the Wynfords?" she asked.

  "I a Wynford!" cried Sylvia. "I only wish I were. Are you a Wynford? Doyou live at the Castle?"

  "Do I live at the Castle!" cried Evelyn. "Why, the Castle is min
e--I meanit will be when Uncle Ned dies. I came here yesterday; and, oh! I ammiserable, and I want Jasper?"

  "Who is Jasper?"

  "My maid. Such a darling!--the only person here who cares in the leastfor me. Oh, please, please tell me your name! If you do not live at theCastle, and if you can assure me from the bottom of your heart that youdo not love any one--any one who lives in the Castle--why, I will loveyou. You are sweetly pretty! What is your name?"

  "Sylvia Leeson. I live three miles from here, but I adore the Castle. Ishould like to come here often."

  "You adore it! Then that is because you know nothing about it. Do youadore Audrey?"

  "Is Audrey the young lady of the Castle?"

  "She is not the young lady of the Castle. _I_ am the young lady of theCastle. But have you ever seen her?"

  "Once; and then she was rude to me."

  "Ah! I thought so. I don't think she could be very polite to anybody.Now, suppose you and I become friends? The Castle belongs to me--or willwhen Uncle Ned dies. I can order people to come or people to go; and Iorder you to come. You shall come up to the house with me. You shallhave lunch with me; you shall really. I have got a lovely suite ofrooms--a bedroom of blue-and-silver and a little sitting-room for my ownuse; and you shall come there, and Jasper shall serve us both. Do youknow that you are sweetly pretty?--just like a gipsy. You are lovely!Will you come with me now? Do! come at once."

  Sylvia laughed. She looked full at Evelyn; then she said abruptly:

  "May I ask you a very straight question?"

  "I love straight questions," replied Evelyn.

  "Can you give me a right, good, big lunch? Do you know that I am veryhungry? Were you ever very hungry?"

  "Oh, sometimes," replied Evelyn, staring very hard at her. "I lived on aranch, you know--or perhaps you don't know."

  "I don't know what a ranch is."

  "How funny! I thought everybody knew. You see, I am not English; I amTasmanian. My father was an Englishman, but he died when I was a littlebaby, and I lived with mothery--the sweetest, the dearest, the darlingestwoman on earth--on a ranch in Tasmania. Mothery is dead, and I have comehere, and all the place will belong to me--not to Audrey--some day. Yes, Iwas hungry when we went on long expeditions, which we used to do in fineweather, but there was always something handy to eat. I have heard ofpeople who are hungry and there is nothing handy to eat. Do you belongto that sort?"

  "Yes, to that sort," said Sylvia, nodding. "I will tell you about myselfpresently. Yes, take me to the house, please. I know _he_ will be angrywhen he knows it, but I am going all the same."

  "Who is he?"

  "I will tell you about him when you know the rest. Take me to the house,quick. I was there once before, on New Year's Day, when every one--everyone has a right to come. I hope you will keep up that splendid customwhen you get the property. I ate a lot then. I longed to take some forhim, but it was the rule that I must not do that. I told him about itafterwards: game-pie, two helpings; venison pasty, two ditto."

  "Oh, that is dull!" interrupted Evelyn. "Have you not forgotten yetabout a lunch you had some days ago?"

  "You would not if you were in my shoes," said Sylvia. "But come; if westay talking much longer some one will see us and prevent me from goingto the house with you."

  "I should like to find the person who could prevent me from doing what Ilike to do!" replied Evelyn. "Come, Sylvia, come."

  Evelyn took the tall, dark girl's hand, and they both set to running,and entered the house by the side entrance. They had the coast clear, asEvelyn expressed it, and ran up at once to her suite of rooms. Jasperwas not in; the rooms were empty. They ran through the bedroom and foundthemselves in the beautifully furnished boudoir. A fire was blazing onthe hearth; the windows were slightly open; the air, quite mild andfresh--for the day was like a spring one--came in at the open casement.Evelyn ran and shut it, and then turned and faced her companion.

  "There!" she said. She came close up to Sylvia, and almost whispered,"Suppose Jasper brings lunch for both of us up here? She will if Icommand her. I will ring the bell and she'll come. Would you not likethat?"

  "Yes, I'd like it much--much the best," said Sylvia. "I am afraid of LadyFrances. And Miss Audrey can be very rude. She was very chuff with me onNew Year's Day."

  "She won't be chuff with you in my presence," said Evelyn. "Ah! herecomes Jasper."

  Jasper, looking slightly excited, now appeared on the scene.

  "Well, my darling!" she said. She rushed up to Evelyn and clasped her inher arms. "Oh, my own sweet Eve, and how are you getting on?" sheexclaimed. "I am thinking this is not the place for you."

  "We will talk of that another time, please, Jasper," said Evelyn, withunwonted dignity. "I have brought a friend to lunch with me. This younglady is called Miss Sylvia Leeson, and she is awfully hungry, and we'dboth like a big lunch in this room. Can you smuggle things up, Jasper?"

  "Her ladyship will be mad," exclaimed Jasper. "I was told in theservants' hall that she was downright annoyed at your not going tobreakfast; if you are not at lunch she will move heaven and earth."

  "Let her; it will be fun," said Evelyn. "I am going to lunch here withmy friend Sylvia Leeson. Bring a lot of things up, Jasper--good things,rich things, tempting things; you know what sort I like."

  "I'll try if there is a bit of pork and some mincepies and plum-puddingand cream and such-like down-stairs. And you'd fancy your chocolate,would you not?"

  "Rather! Get all you can, and be as quick as ever you can."

  Jasper accordingly withdrew, and in a short time appeared with a ladentray in her hands.

  "I had to run the gauntlet of the footman and the butler too; and whatthey will tell Lady Frances goodness knows, but I do not," answeredJasper. "But there, if things have to come to a crisis, why, they must.You will not forget me when the storm breaks, will you, Evelyn?"

  "I'll never forget you," said Evelyn, with enthusiasm. "You are thedearest and darlingest thing left now that mothery is in heaven; andSylvia will love you too. I have been telling her all about you.--Now,Sylvia, you will not be hungry long."