A Modern Tomboy - Part 18
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Part 18

Lady Jane left the room, and returned with a blue-bag, which she applied to James's swollen hand and cheek. The frightened servant said he did not think he could keep his situation much longer; but Lady Jane begged of him to be patient. Irene had disappeared.

"It is the kind of shock, your ladyship," he said to his mistress. "It's that I can't bear. There was I a-walking in as innocent as you please into my pantry, carrying the hot dishes from your ladyship's breakfast.

I just touched a string, and found a shower of the most venomous insects crawling all over me. I dropped the dish on the spot, and if it hadn't been a silver one it would have been in shivers. And how was she to know that it wouldn't be your ladyship's best Sevres or Crown Derby? How am I to endure it, my lady?"

"She is a very naughty girl, and I will certainly punish her," said Lady Jane, with a sigh. "But now, James, go about your business. The remedies I have used will soon take the pain out of your stings, and you will be all right again."

"There's poor Miss Frost," continued the man; "she has swallowed living beasts. It's all over the house, the story of Miss Irene giving her them horrors instead of her pills. It's the most dreadful thing I ever heard tell of."

"I don't believe she is really seriously hurt at all. But I will see what can be done," said Lady Jane.

She sat for a time lost in thought. Irene must be sent away--school must be resorted to. She must not any longer be allowed to render The Follies a home of terror to every individual who lived there. But what school would take such a naughty girl? For an instant Lady Jane thought of the Merrimans. But no, that was worse than useless. Was there any school in any part of the world that would receive such a hopeless character as poor Irene seemed to be turning into? Lady Jane could not tell.

CHAPTER XII.

ROSAMUND TO THE RESCUE.

Lady Jane was in the midst of her meditations, and a more confused, distracted poor woman it would be difficult to find in the length and breadth of the land, when suddenly she heard a step in the hall, a frank young voice--not Irene's, but bright and young and full of courage--and the next instant Rosamund Cunliffe entered the room.

"May I speak to you, Lady Jane?"

James was mournfully removing the remainder of the breakfast. His face was not improved by the blue-bag, and his expression was that of a hunted animal. The butler, in high dudgeon, had retired to his own apartment, where he had locked and barred the door in order to prevent any pranks of that imp, as he privately styled Irene. The other servants were tremblingly attending to their duties; but all smelled mischief in the air.

Two such awful things did not often occur on the same day as the possible poisoning of Miss Frost and the terrible usage to which innocent James had been subjected.

"We're none of us safe!" quoth the cook. "It's best to give notice."

"But then wages is so high," said the kitchen-maid. "There ain't a place like it in the country round--plenty of us, and half our time our own.

What my mother says to me is, 'You must put up with something, Sukey; and if you hadn't Miss Irene you'd have low wages and 'ard work.' So I said I'd grin and bear it."

"Well, that's my notion, too," said the cook. "I say over and over, 'I'll grin and bear it;' and when the child comes to me and asks me so pretty for the most unwholesome food--though nothing, for that matter, seems to disagree with her--why, I haven't the 'eart to refuse."

"You haven't the courage, you mean," said James, who entered the kitchen at that moment. "If you had my poor face you'd have something to say."

"Oh, your poor face!" said the cook in an indignant tone. "It'll be well afore you're twice married. You take note of that."

James left the kitchen in a huff to return to his duties in the breakfast-room. It was there that Rosamund found him when she burst in upon Lady Jane.

"I have come to see you. Can I have a talk with you where we can be alone?" said the girl.

Perhaps in all the world no sight could have been so welcome at that moment to poor Lady Jane as Rosamund's bright face. The courage in it, the knowledge that Irene respected and, yes, loved this girl, cheered her inexpressibly. She was not jealous. The fact was, had she been jealous, had she felt any very deep mother-love for her orphan child, things might have been quite different. But her whole heart was absorbed in memories, and Irene, in consequence, had never given her a true daughter's affection. But she was terribly perturbed about the naughty child; and Rosamund looked to her, with her straight carriage, her fine open face, like a very tower of strength.

"I am in great trouble, my dear. I am very glad to see you. But how is it that you have got away from school so early?"

"I will tell you all about it. There has been great trouble at Sunnyside. Poor Jane Denton, my special friend and room-mate, is dangerously ill with diphtheria."

"Diphtheria!" said Lady Jane, starting back as she spoke. "But is not that very infectious?"

"I don't think it really is. I mean, of course, that if any one bent over a person who is ill, that person would be very likely to get it.

Anyhow, all the girls have been sent away. Mrs. Brett, Mrs. Merriman's sister, has taken them to Dartford to stay with her for the present; and two trained nurses are coming to look after Jane; and--oh, Lady Jane!

perhaps you won't speak to me again, but I am expelled from the school."

"Expelled from the Merrimans'?" said Lady Jane in a low tone of intense distress and feeling.

"It is true. They have expelled me--or at least the Professor has. I am never going back. Now, I want to know whether I am to go to mother at Brighton, where she is at present, or whether I shall stay with you for a little, and--and help Irene."

Lady Jane's eyes filled with tears.

"You must tell me all about it. Why are you expelled?"

"It is all on account of Irene. I must tell you that I took a great fancy to her."

"You did? How sweet of you!" said Lady Jane.

"I know she is very wild and naughty; but there is something lovable about her, and I think I could manage her. I think she cares for me, so I wanted to be with her; and I asked the Professor, but the Professor did not wish it. You see, Lady Jane, I am sorry to hurt you, but Irene has got quite a bad name in the place. Most of the people are dreadfully afraid of her. They don't like her. They say she is always up to mischief."

"Indeed she is. Miss Frost has just gone to see the doctor because the naughty child made her swallow some repulsive insects instead of her pills. But--oh, dear!"

"Don't go on, Lady Jane. I think I can guess how exceedingly naughty Irene is. But, you see, I have taken a great fancy to her in spite of her naughtiness. Anyhow, on Sunday last I managed to conquer her, which was something."

"Indeed you did. It was most wonderful! Poor Miss Frost and I were amazed. We could scarcely contain our astonishment as we watched you."

"Well, now, I must tell you the whole story. The Professor said I was to have nothing to do with Irene, for if I did he would not allow me to stay with them; and he begged of me to consider how important it was for me to stay at the school selected for me by my parents. So I gave him my word of honor that I wouldn't see Irene or have anything to do with her for a week. I meant to keep it, of course."

"Your word of honor!" interrupted Lady Jane. "That was very strong, was it not? Your letter astonished me, for you did not explain anything."

"I could not--it was impossible. At least, I felt so at the time, although now I don't much care what happens. Anyhow, I fully intended to keep my word, although at the end of the week I meant to tell Professor and Mrs. Merriman quite plainly that unless I could see you, who had been mother's dearest friend, and Irene sometimes, I would ask mother to remove me from the school. You see, mother is quite reasonable, and when I explain things to her she does what she can. I sometimes think that is because she was exceedingly naughty herself when she was a little girl.

Anyhow, that was how matters stood. But last night, when I went to my room to go to bed--poor Jane had been removed to a room in another part of the house, as she was so ill--whom should I find in the room but Irene herself, and"----

"She has told me that part. Now I understand," said Lady Jane.

"I am glad you understand. But I had rather a fight with her. In the end I lost my temper, but that was owing to Lucy Merriman. Well, this morning, when it was discovered that Jane--my dear Jane--had such terribly bad diphtheria, the whole school was scattered on the spot.

Kind Mrs. Brett has taken all the girls, with the exception of myself, to Dartford. I insisted on taking the Professor aside and telling him just what had happened, and how I had broken my word of honor. I said I wouldn't go to Dartford with Mrs. Brett, and he told me if I went to you I was never to return to the school. So here I am. What do you mean to do with me?"

Lady Jane sat still, looking very pale and troubled. Rosamund, seeing that no answer could be expected immediately, sank on the nearest chair.

She was now deadly tired; her night of absolute want of rest, added to the excitement which she had lived through, was beginning to tell on her; and, strong as she was, she turned white as death. It was that look on her face which first roused Lady Jane's attention.

"How cruel I am," she said, "and you your mother's child!"

She got up and rang the bell. The much-afflicted James answered the summons.

"Get some breakfast immediately for Miss Cunliffe. Tell cook to send in anything nice and appetizing that she possesses. Not a word to Miss Irene on the subject whatsoever."

He withdrew, and in a short time a really appetizing breakfast was placed before the nearly famished girl. Breakfast at Sunnyside that morning had been a farce, and when Rosamund came down the meal was over.

She had, therefore, not tasted food that day until now. The hot coffee, the nice fish-cakes, the delicious bread-and-b.u.t.ter, all had their due effect. She owned that she was hungry, and when she had finished, fresh courage and energy came into her voice and manner.