by L. T. Meade
have afriend like that." He walked to the other end of the room and began tostride up and down. He was hurt beyond anything he could have imagined.What was he to do? How was he to endure his own misery? It was badenough to have a servant in the house who could be dishonest, bad enoughto have a clerk who could steal, but here was his own child.
"Did I ever deny you anything?" he said.
"No, father."
"Couldn't you come to me and ask me for the money?"
"I was so terrified and afraid--oh, I have no excuse."
"That is it," said Angela. "She has no excuse whatever. It is not acase of excuse, it is a case of a girl having done wrong, and beingbitterly sorry, and having confessed her fault. Now you come in, sir."
"I come in, pray?" he said.
He forgot that the speaker was Miss St Just, she was just a girladdressing him. But there was wonderful power in her voice.
"Of course you come in. What would God do in such a case?"
Carter turned away.
"Oh, father, you will, you will forgive me."
"I come in, forsooth!" said the man. "I, who made a fool of myself thismorning, and told that poor girl that she certainly had done it, butthat if she confessed I would forgive her!"
"Then there is a similar case," said Angela. "Penelope has confessed,so you ought to forgive her."
"I don't know--I don't know," he said.
"Oh, father, mayn't I bring Betty down, and may I tell her that I wasthe real thief?"
"No good in that, child. No good in making it public."
"Of course, father, you'll have to forgive Pen," said Jim's sturdy youngvoice at that moment.
"If you wish it, Jim--if you wish it, of course there is nothing more tobe said. What do you feel about it? You have metal in you; you're madeof the right stuff. What do you feel about this matter?"
"I feel that I have never loved Pen more than I do at this moment. Inever was so proud of her. She has grit in her, she is worth all therest of us, to my way of thinking."
"No, that is not so; but if you wish it, Jim, and you, Miss St Just."
"I do wish it," said Angela.
"Then I will say nothing more. Pen, I am disappointed; I am bitterlyhurt, but I will say nothing more."
He took the child's hand, held it for a minute, looked into her face,and said:
"Why, I do believe you have suffered, you poor bit of a thing."
Then he abruptly kissed her on her forehead and left the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
NESTA LOST AGAIN.
The Aldworths were in a state of confusion. Mrs Aldworth was anxious;Nurse Davenant was keeping the worst from her, but nevertheless she wasanxious. Molly and Ethel were so firmly desired on no account to givethemselves away, that they were absolutely excluded from the room. Theywere loud in their denunciations of Nesta.
"Catch old Nesta getting herself into trouble," they said. "She hasjust gone off on one of her sprees."
That was their first idea, but when they went to the Griffiths' house,as the most likely place for the naughty Nesta to have taken herself to,and were greeted by the news that Mr, Mrs, and Miss Griffiths hadstarted for Scarborough that morning, and that certainly no one else hadgone with them, their ideas were somewhat shaken; they really did notknow what to think. What was to be done? There was Mrs Aldworthwanting Nesta, and asking for her from time to time.
"Where is the child?" she said.
Now, Mrs Aldworth was herself, with her own delicate fingers, making anew blouse for Nesta. It was a very pretty one, of delicate pink silk,with embroidery trimming it all round the neck and round the prettyfancy sleeves. Mrs Aldworth wanted to try it on, and there was noNesta to be found. The other girls were slighter than Nesta, who was avery buxom young woman for her years.
What was the matter? What was to be done? Still she was not seriouslyalarmed, for Marcia managed to keep her mind at rest. Nesta was out,she would be in soon.
But when lunch time came, and no Nesta appeared, Marcia sent a hurriedline to Angela to tell her that she might, after all, not be able to goto Hurst Castle that day. She certainly would not leave the Aldworthswhile they were in anxiety.
Angela had replied that she was coming into Newcastle, and would go andpay the Carters a visit. She would wait for Marcia, and take her back.
It was late that evening when Angela did call for Marcia. She drew upher little pony carriage outside the door; she had driven all the wayfrom Hurst Castle, but the ponies were fresh from their long rest in theold Court Prospect stables. Angela waited in the porch.
"I won't come in to-night," she said to Susan. "Just go up and say thatMiss St Just is waiting."
Marcia came down. Her face was very pale.
"Oh, my dear Angela," she said. "Whatever will you think of me? Whatis to be done? I have spent such a miserable day. We are all mostanxious."
"What?" said Angela, "haven't you found the truant yet?"
"No; we have searched high and low, all over the place. We don't wantto alarm people. We could, of course, send a telegram to father andHorace, but we don't want to do that."
"She is evidently a very naughty girl," said Angela.
"I am afraid she is; she is terribly self-willed," said Marcia with asigh.
"I'm not a scrap uneasy about her," said Angela. "She is quite certainto have taken care of herself. But what frets me is that you arelooking so white, dear. You want your holiday so badly."
"I can't really go with you to-night; I am ever so sorry, Angela, but itis quite impossible."
"Then let me stay and help you."
"Oh, I can't do that!" but Marcia's eyes expressed a longing.
"Now, why shouldn't I stay?" said Angela. "I have always longed to seeMrs Aldworth. You might bring me up to her, mightn't you?"
"I wonder if I dare?"
"Of course, you can, dear. Have I ever tired or frightened any one inthe whole course of my life?"
"You have been so shamefully neglected, dear, and what will your fathersay?"
"I'll send him a wire telling him not to expect us to-night. Or, betterstill, I'll send the carriage home with a note. He'll get it just whenhe is expecting me, and he will be quite contented in his mind."
"Well, then, if you will, you can share my room."
"Certainly," said Angela lightly.
"You have been a long time at the Carters'," said Marcia.
"Yes, I have had a most interesting time."
"Your first visit to your old home."
"I hadn't much time to think of that, and I'm glad it is over. I shallgo there very often. What nice young people the Carters are."
Marcia opened her eyes.
"The two I saw--Jim and Penelope."
"Penelope--yes, there is a good deal in that child."
"I am her friend; I will tell you presently something, but not all,about her. I am truly glad I went to-day. Now, if only I can helpyou."
"You can, you shall; I think God must have sent you."
Marcia and her friend entered the house. They went into the library,where Marcia ordered a meal for Angela, and then went upstairs. Mollyand Ethel were ready to dart upon her in the passage.
"What a long time you've been. Mother is beginning to cry. She saysthat Nesta has deserted her shamefully. We daren't say that she is notin the house. I was thinking," continued Molly, "of making up a littlestory, and saying that she was in her bedroom with a headache; mothercouldn't be very anxious about that, could she?"
"You mustn't make up any such story. It wouldn't be right."
"Marcia, you are so over particular. Of course, you are not going toHurst Castle to-night."
"I am not."
"Is Miss St Just very sorry?"
"She is rather; but by the way, Molly, you might help me; Miss St Justis spending the night here."
"Good gracious!" said Ethel, drawing herself up. "Yes; won't you two godown and have a chat with her? I wish yo
u would. She is going to seemother presently. I think she will do mother a lot of good. Anyhow,she is staying, and I must make up my mind what is to be done aboutNesta. If there are no tidings of her within the next hour or so, Imust send a telegram to father."
"We must make ourselves smart, first," said Ethel, turning to Molly.
"I suppose so," answered Molly.
They both went into their bedroom, the nice room which Marcia hadprepared for them, and considered.
"My white dress," said Molly--"oh, but there's that