by L. T. Meade
she was too angry to feel all the misery that suchtreatment could cause; but when she entered the Hogg establishment andfound in very truth from the moist atmosphere of the place, from theabsence of any preparations for a meal, and from the worried expressionon Mrs Hogg's face, that she was indeed a laundress, she burst intotears.
"Highty tighty!" said Mrs Hogg. "I can't have any more of this. Outyou go. Did you see her?"
"Oh, don't ask me. She's a perfect terror!"
"_She_ has a sharp bark, but what I say is that her bark's worse nor herbite. She pays regular. Now, why couldn't you bring yourself to mindher and to soothe her down a bit? Maybe she'd do well by you."
"_She_ wouldn't have me on any terms. She turned me right out. Shedidn't like me at all."
"I'm not surprised at that. I don't much like von, either. But there'syour dinner in the corner there. I wropt it up in a bit o' paper.You'd best take it out and eat it in the fields. It'll be all mess andmoither and soapsuds and steaming water here for the rest of the day."
"And when may I come back again?"
"I don't want you back at all."
"But I suppose you won't turn me out?"
"No, you may share my bed. You behaved better last night. Come backwhen you can't bear yourself any longer, and if you can buy yourself adraught of milk and a hunch of bread for supper it would give lesstrouble getting anything ready. The boys'll have cold porridgeto-night, without any milk, and that's all I can give you. I can neverbe bothered with cooking on a washing day."
Nesta took up her dinner, which was wrapped up in a piece of oldnewspaper, and disappeared. She walked far, far until she was tired.Then she sat down and opened the little parcel. Within was the rind ofa very hard cheese and a lump of very stale bread. But Nesta's hungerwas now so strong that she ate up the bread and devoured the cheese andfelt better afterwards.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
MAKING SUNSHINE ALL ROUND.
It was between three and four o'clock on that same day when Angela StJust stepped out of her pretty carriage and went up the neatly kept pathwhich led to Mrs Johnston's house. Mrs Johnston was not a favouriteof hers, nor, for that matter, of anybody else. How Mercy, her nicelittle maidservant, managed her so wonderfully; how Miss Palliser, thegirl who had lately been married and gone to America, had put up withher, was a marvel to most people. But then, Angela rather liked peoplewhom others disliked, and she generally managed to give them a ray ofbrightness. She entered the little parlour now, and was received by theold lady with outstretched hand.
"My dear, my dear! this is good," she said. "I am so delighted, Angela;sit dawn, and tell me all about yourself."
Angela pushed back her hat and looked at old Mrs Johnston, then shesaid quietly:
"I was determined to give you a whole hour, and here I am, and you mustmake the most of me, for I am leaving Castle Walworth to-day. I amgoing back to Hurst Castle."
"Oh, dear, what a pity. Just when I thought you'd stay here for a goodwhile."
"I am sorry, but it can't be helped. My friend, Marcia--you have heardme speak of Marcia."
"Of course, I have, my dear, and a wonderful young lady she is."
"Well, she is in trouble. All the Aldworths are in trouble."
"Are they indeed?" said Mrs Johnston. She could be sympathetic enoughwhere anybody in the most remote degree connected with the St Justs wasconcerned, in especial with Angela, whom she worshipped.
"I am sorry for that," she said, "if it worries you. You ought to haveno worries."
"But why not? But I'm not exactly worried, only, of course, I want tohelp them, and I am quite sure it will all come right in the end. Ifeel like that about everything."
"You are a very blessed girl," said the old lady.
Angela smiled.
"God is so good to me," she said.
"Well, tell me all about it--what has put you out?"
"I have told you, have I not, about Mrs Aldworth? Well, you know, sheis getting better. We managed to get her to Hurst Castle last week, andshe is enjoying herself very much. Marcia is looking after her, and sheis gradually getting more and more the use of her limbs, and a greatspecialist is coming from London to see her, and to give advice as toher future treatment. Everything except one now points to thepossibility of a complete recovery."
"And what is the one thing, my dear?"
"The one thing that is making us all so anxious is this. You know Itold you that there are three young Aldworth girls. Molly is one, Ethelanother, and Nesta, the third. Nesta has been very difficult and verytroublesome, and the fact is she has run away." Mrs Johnston did notknow why she suddenly gave a little jump, but the next minute she saidquickly:
"How old is she?"
"About fifteen, I think."
"Rather big for her age?"
"I should say she was; she is unformed; she is rather untidy."
"Awkward, I should say. Shouldn't you now pronounce her awkward?"
"I think I should. I don't know her very well, you see. I have onlyseen her once, and Marcia has told me about her. She is a verydifficult girl."
"And how long is it since she left home?"
"She left home last Saturday week. She ran away first to Scarborough tostay with some friends. We were all distressed about that, and we hadto tell a story to Mrs Aldworth which partly satisfied her. We didn'ttell her anything that wasn't true. We said Nesta had gone to stay withthe Griffiths, and we thought it best that she should stay there for afew days. Then we got Mrs Aldworth to Hurst Castle, and she has beendoing splendidly ever since. But the difficulty is that we shall haveto tell her soon that we really don't know where Nesta is. We don'tknow, and we are in great trouble."
"Oh, my dear, I am sure trouble is very bad for you, you look so frail.There now, I wonder when Mercy will bring the tea."
Mrs Johnston had scarcely uttered these words before the room door wasopened, and Mercy, her cheeks crimson with excitement at the greatnessof the honour conferred upon her, laid a delicately prepared tea on thecentre table. There was silver of the oldest and quaintest pattern;there was china thin as an eggshell; there was a little silver teapot,in short everything was perfection. There were cakes of the verylightest that Mercy's skilful hands could make. Angela was the lastperson to despise such a meal; on the contrary, she received it withmarked appreciation.
"How delicious! How much, much nicer than the meal I should have had atCastle Walworth. Oh, how good of you, how good of you to get it for me.But you must let me pour out the tea, and give you a cup."
The radiant face, the shining eyes, the sympathetic manner, all didtheir work on cross old Mrs Johnston. Why couldn't other people comein like Angela and make sunshine all round them? What was the matterwith Mrs Johnston that she forgot her ailments and her crotchets, andher disagreeablenesses? She was only anxious now to please her youngguest.
"There now," she said, "it is good for sair een to look at you. Youhave cheered me and heartened me up wonderfully. But as I was saying,troubles aren't good for you, dear, you are fretting yourself, I'msure."
"I am really anxious, though I know I oughtn't to be. I am sure thingswill come right, I have always thought so. They do come right in thelong run, but still Mrs Aldworth is so delicate, and Nesta has run awayagain from the people she was staying with at Scarborough."
"Well," said Mrs Johnston, "you say you believe things will come right.I've not been at all of that way of thinking. I don't pretend that Ihave. It has been, my idea that things were much more likely to gowrong than right. I have found it so in life. But there, what everpossessed you, in the midst of all your anxieties, to write me a littlenote last night and say that you would come to see me this afternoon,and that perhaps you'd come about tea time, and that perhaps Mercy wouldmake some of her scones, for you could never forget how delicious theytasted last time? I can tell you, Miss Angela, I awoke this morningfeeling as cross and as bad and as sour as an old woman could feel, forI
was aching from head to foot with the rheumatism, and I was thinkinghow lonely it was not to have chick nor child belonging to me, and MissPalliser, who had her faults, poor thing, but who knew my ways, gone toAmerica, and had it not been for your note, I don't know what I shouldhave done, but that cheered me, and I got downstairs. But what do youthink?--even with the hope of seeing you, I couldn't help having thegrumps. But to go on with my story, I was grumbling and grumblinginside me--not that I said a word, for there wasn't any one to say itto; Mercy was in the kitchen, with her heart in her month at the thoughtof seeing you,