by L. T. Meade
answer himback, and there'll be no end of a row," thought the poor woman.
So it was an anxious-faced, wrinkled, rather elderly woman who startedup now to receive the two men. Griffiths came in first.
"I have brought Mr Horace Aldworth back with me, wife. Did you receivemy telegram?"
"I did, dear. You will be wanting a bit of supper. How do you do, MrAldworth? I hope your poor mother is easier--suffering less, gettingstronger by degrees."
Horace bowed and murmured something in reply, and took a seat with hisback to the light. Griffiths strutted over to the hearthrug, put hishands behind him, swelled out,--as Mrs Griffiths afterwards expressedit,--looked as red as a turkey-cock, and demanded the presence of thetwo girls.
"The girls," said Mrs Griffiths--"they are out."
Her first impulse was to hide the fact that she had lent Nesta money;but second thoughts rejected this. Griffiths would worm it out of her.Griffiths could get any secret out of her--he was terrible when hereached his turkey-cock stage.
"The girls," she said timidly, "they're not in."
"Neither of them?"
"Neither of them."
"Then where in the name of all that is good are they?" thundered theangry man.
"Flossie is away on a picnic with the Browns."
"I'm not inquiring for Flossie in particular at present. I want thatother hussy--I want Miss Nesta Aldworth. Where is she?"
"I have come," said Horace, breaking in at this juncture, and speakingin a most self-restrained voice--"to take my sister Nesta home with me,and to thank you most sincerely, Mrs Griffiths, for your kindness."
"It's the most dastardly, disgraceful thing that ever occurred, and tothink that I should have had a hand in it," said Griffiths. "I havebeen done as neatly as ever man was. I, paying all the expenses andtreating the girl as though she were my own child, and thinking thatAldworth, there, and his father, would be pleased, and believe that Imeant well by his family, and all the time I was doing them a baseinjury. It's a wonder that girl's mother isn't in her grave, and so shewould be if it wasn't for--"
"My mother is all right, thank you," said Horace. "But I am mostanxious to catch the last train back to Newcastle. Is Nesta upstairs?Can she come down? I want to take her away."
"She is not," said Mrs Griffiths, and now she trembled exceedingly, andedged nearer to Horace, as though for protection. "It is my fault, youmustn't blame her. I got the telegram--I'd rather not say anythingabout it, but I can't hide the truth from you, Griffiths. You are somasterful when you get red in the face like that--I'm just terrified ofyou, and I must out with the truth. The poor child was so frightenedthat she told me what she had done. She owned up handsome, I must say,and then she said: `Lend me a little money to take me home--I will gohome at once.' She was frightfully cut up at nobody really missing her.She had evidently thought she would be sent for at once. I own thatshe did wrong."
"Of course, she did wrong," shouted Griffiths. "I never heard of ameaner thing to do, a meaner and a lower, and if I thought that mychild--"
It was on this scene that Flossie, radiant with the success of her happyday, broke. She opened the door wide, rushed in, and said:
"Oh, if I haven't had--where are you, Nesta? Why, whatever is thematter?"
"You come along here, Flossie," said Griffiths. "There's no end of arow, that's the truth. Come and stand by me. Tell me what you know ofthis Nesta business--this runaway business, this daring to deceive anhonest man, this creeping off, so to speak, in the dark. Tell me whatyou know. Own up, child, own up, and be quick."
"Yes, tell us what you know," said Horace. His voice was kind; Flossieturned to him.
"I--it was my fault as much as hers."
"Your fault?" bellowed her father. "Your fault?"
"Oh, for goodness' sake, Griffiths, don't frighten the wits out of thepoor child; let her speak," exclaimed the mother.
But when all was said and done, Flossie had grit in her. She was notgoing on this day of calamity to let her friend bear the brunt alone.
"We did it between us," she said. "Poor old Nesta, she was having sucha bad time, and I wanted her so much. We planned it together. We knewthat if father knew it he would not take her, so we planned it, and younever guessed, father, and, and--Oh, I suppose you will give me an awfulpunishment--send me to a terrible school or something of that sort."
But Griffiths was past himself.
"You knew it--you planned it! Why, you are as bad as she is!"
He took her by her shoulders and shook her. Her black eyes blazed upinto his face.
"Yes, I am quite as bad as she is," she said.
"Then go out of the room. Go upstairs."
"Griffiths, Griffiths," moaned the mother.
"You must do just as you please with regard to your daughter," saidHorace then. "I am sorry for Miss Griffiths; I don't think,notwithstanding her confession, that she can be as bad as Nesta; butwhat I want to know is, where is Nesta?"
"I will tell you, Mr Aldworth. If my poor child was brave enough tofight her father when he was in the turkey-cock stage, I'm not going tobe a whit behind her. We may be bad, Floss and I, but we're notcowards. The poor child was so cowed by the tone of Griffiths' telegramthat she begged and implored of me to lend her money to go home beforeGriffiths got back. That is the long and short of it, and she's safeback at Newcastle by this time, and safe in your house, and doubtlessher mother has forgiven her. I lent her the money to go."
"How much?" said Horace sternly.
"Not a penny more than ten shillings. The poor child said she would letme have it back again. Not that I want it--indeed I don't."
Horace put his hand into his pocket, took out half a sovereign and laidit on the table.
"I have to thank you both," he said, turning to Griffiths, "for yourgreat kindness to my sister. You meant well, however ill she meant. Ihave nothing to say with regard to your daughter's conduct except that Iwould not be too hard on her, Mr Griffiths, if I were you. The girlmight have tried to get out of it, but she did not; there is alwayssomething in that. Now I shall just have time to catch my train."
"You won't take bite nor sup, Mr Aldworth? We're so honoured to haveyou in the house, sir, so pleased, so delighted. You are sure you won'ttake bite nor sup?"
"I am sorry, but I must catch my train; it leaves at 9:10."
"And how, if I might venture to ask you, is your poor mother, MrAldworth?"
"My mother is better. She is not at home at present. She is at HurstCastle with Miss Angela St Just. Miss St Just has had a wonderfuleffect upon her, and has managed to get her over there, and I trust shemay come back a very different woman."
"Then after all," said Mrs Griffiths, "poor little Nesta did not injureher mother; that is something to be thankful for, and when you arescolding her, sir, I hope you will bear it in mind. And I hope,Griffiths, you will also bear it in mind, and act handsome by our child,and take her in the true spirit and forgive her."
"I am disgusted," said Griffiths, "disgusted."
He stalked to the door, pushed it wide open, let it bang behind him, andwent down the stairs.
"There!" said Mrs Griffiths, bursting into tears, "he will beunmanageable, not only to-night, but to-morrow, and the day after, andthe day after. A pretty time Floss and I'll have--a pretty time truly.But I'm glad you spoke up, Mr Aldworth. You are not offended with us,forsooth?"
"Offended with you, madam," said the young man; "how can I do anythingbut thank you for your kindness to my poor silly young sister? But nowI must really be off."
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
IN HIDING.
When Nesta reached the railway station she was almost beside herselfwith fear. She went to the ticket office to get a third-class singleticket for Newcastle. There was a girl standing just in front of her, acommonplace, respectable looking girl, who asked for a ticket to a placewhich she pronounced as Souchester. The ticket only cost one andsixpence. It flashed throug
h Nesta's mind that she might just as wellgo to Souchester as anywhere else. It had not before entered into herbrain that here lay an immediate source of relief. Perhaps her familywould be really frightened when they knew nothing about her, sofrightened that when they saw her again, they would forgive her.
Scarcely knowing what she did, and with no previous intention of goinganywhere but straight home, she too asked for a ticket to Souchester.The man handed it to her.
"One and sixpence, please," he said.
She pushed in her half-sovereign,