by L. T. Meade
privileges; that circumstances,in her opinion, now so strongly pointed the guilt of the stolen essay inthe direction of one girl, that she could no longer ask the school tosuffer for her sake.
"She still refuses to confess her sin," said Mrs Willis, "but, unlessanother girl proclaims herself guilty, and proves to me beyond doubtthat she drew the caricature which was found in Cecil Temple's book, andthat she changed Dora Russell's essay, and, imitating her hand, putanother in its place, I proclaim the guilty person to be Annie Forest,and on her alone I visit my displeasure. You can retire to your rooms,young ladies. To-morrow morning Lavender House resumes its oldcheerfulness."
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.
HESTER'S HOUR OF TRIAL.
However calmly or however peacefully Annie slept that night, poor Hesterdid not close her eyes. The white face of the girl she had wronged andinjured kept rising before her. Why had she so deceived Annie? Whyfrom the very first had she turned from her and misjudged her, andmisrepresented her? Was Annie, indeed, all bad? Hester had to own toherself that to-night Annie was better than she--was greater than she.Could she now have undone the past, she would not have acted as she haddone; she would not for the sake of a little paltry revenge have defiledher conscience with a lie, have told her governess that she could throwno light on the circumstance of the stolen essay. This was the firstlie Hester had ever told; she was naturally both straightforward andhonourable, but her sin of sins, that which made her hard and almostunlovable, was an intensely proud and haughty spirit. She was verysorry she had told that lie; she was very sorry she had yielded to thattemptation; but not for worlds would she now humble herself to confess--not for worlds would she let the school know of her cowardice and shame.No, if there was no other means of clearing: Annie except through herconfession, she must remain with the shadow of this sin over her to herdying day.
Hester, however, was now really unhappy, and also truly sorry for poorAnnie. Could she have got off without disgrace or punishment, she wouldhave been truly glad to see Annie exonerated. She was quite certainthat Susan Drummond was at the bottom of all the mischief which had beendone lately at Lavender House. She could not make out how stupid Susanwas clever enough to caricature and to imitate peoples' hands. Stillshe was convinced that she was the guilty person, and she wondered andwondered if she could induce Susan to come forward and confess thetruth, and so save Annie without bringing her, Hester, into any trouble.
She resolved to speak to Susan, and without confessing that she had beenin the school-room on the night the essay was changed, to let her knowplainly that she suspected her.
She became much calmer when she determined to carry out this resolve,and toward morning she fell asleep.
She was awakened at a very early hour by little Nan clambering over theside of her crib, and cuddling down cosily in a way she loved byHester's side.
"Me so 'nug, 'nug," said little Nan. "Oh, Hetty, Hetty, there's a wy onthe teiling!"
Hester had then to rouse herself, and enter into an animatedconversation on the subject of flies generally, and in especial she hadto talk of that particular fly which would perambulate on the ceilingover Nan's head.
"Me like wies," said Nan, "and me like 'oo, Hetty, and me love--me loveAnnie."
Hester kissed her little sister passionately; but this last observation,accompanied by the expression of almost angelic devotion which filledlittle Nan's brown eyes, as she repeated that she liked flies and Hetty,but that she loved Annie, had the effect of again hardening her heart.
Hester's hour of trial, however, was at hand, and before that day wasover she was to experience that awful emptiness and desolation whichthose know whom God is punishing.
Lessons went on as usual at Lavender House that morning, and, to thesurprise of several, Annie was seen in her old place in class. Sheworked with a steadiness quite new to her; no longer interlarding herhours of study with those indescribable glances of fun and mischief,first at one school-companion and then at another, which used to worryher teachers so much.
There were no merry glances from Annie that morning: but she workedsteadily and rapidly, and went through that trying ordeal, her Frenchverbs, with such satisfaction that Mademoiselle was on the point ofpraising her, until she remembered that Annie was in disgrace.
After school, however, Annie did not join her companions in the grounds,but went up to her bedroom, where, by Mrs Willis's orders, she was toremain until the girls went in. She was to take her own exercise laterin the day.
It was now the tenth of June--an intensely sultry day; a misty heatbrooded over everything, and not a breath of air stirred the leaves inthe trees. The girls wandered about languidly, too enervated by theheat to care to join in any noisy games. They were now restored totheir full freedom, and there is no doubt they enjoyed the privileges ofhaving little confabs, and whispering secrets to each other withouthaving Miss Good and Miss Danesbury for ever at their elbows. Theytalked of many things--of the near approach of the holidays, of theprize day which was now so close at hand, of Annie's disgrace, and soon.
They wondered, many of them, if Annie would ever be brought to confessher sin, and, if not, how Mrs Willis would act toward her. DoraRussell said in her most contemptuous tones--
"She is nothing, after all, but a charity child, and Mrs Willis hassupported her for years for nothing."
"Yes, and she's too clever by half; eh, poor old Muddy Stream?" remarkeda saucy little girl. "By the way, Dora, dear, how goes the river now?--has it lost itself in the arms of mother ocean yet?"
Dora turned red and walked away, and her young tormentor exclaimed withconsiderable gusto--
"There, I have silenced her for a bit; I do hate the way she talks aboutcharity children. Whatever her faults, Annie is the sweetest andprettiest girl in the school, in my opinion." In the meantime Hesterwas looking in all directions for Susan Drummond. She thought thepresent a very fitting opportunity to open her attack on her, and shewas the more anxious to bring her to reason as a certain look in Annie'sface--a pallid and very weary look--had gone to her heart, and touchedher in spite of herself. Now, even though little Nan loved her, Hesterwould save Annie could she do so not at her own expense.
Look, however, as she would, nowhere could she find Miss Drummond. Shecalled and called, but no sleepy voice replied. Susan, indeed, knewbetter; she had curled herself up in a hammock which hung between theboughs of a shady tree, and though Hester passed under her very head,she was sucking lollipops and going off comfortably into the land ofdreams, and had no intention of replying. Hester wandered down theshady walk, and at its farther end she was gratified by the sight oflittle Nan, who, under her nurse's charge, was trying to string daisieson the grass. Hester sat down by her side, and Nan climbed over andmade fine havoc of her neat print dress, and laughed, and was at hermerriest and best.
"I hear say that that naughty Miss Forest has done something out-and-outdisgraceful," whispered the nurse.
"Oh, don't!" said Hester impatiently. "Why should everyone throw mud ata girl when she is down? If poor Annie is naughty and guilty, she issuffering now."
"Annie _not_ naughty," said little Nan. "Me love my own Annie; me do,me do."
"And you love your own poor old nurse, too?" responded the somewhatjealous nurse.
Hester left the two playing happily together, the little one caressingher nurse, and blowing one or two kisses after her sister's retreatingform. Hester returned to the house, and went up to her room to preparefor dinner. She had washed her hands, and was standing before thelooking-glass re-plaiting her long hair when Susan Drummond, lookingextremely wild and excited, and with her eyes almost starting out of herhead, rushed into the room.
"Oh, Hester, Hester!" she gasped, and she flung herself on Hester's bed,with her face downwards; she seemed absolutely deprived for the momentof the power of any further speech.
"What is the matter, Susan?" inquired Hester half impatiently. "Whathave you come into my room for? Are you going into
a fit of hysterics?You had better control yourself, for the dinner gong will sounddirectly."
Susan gasped two or three times, made a rush to Hester's wash-handstand,and taking up a glass, poured some cold water into it, and gulped itdown.
"Now I can speak," she said. "I ran so fast that my breath quite leftme. Hester, put on your walking things or go without them, just as youplease--only go at once if you would save her."
"Save whom?" asked Hester.
"Your little sister--little Nan. I--I saw it all. I was in thehammock, and nobody knew I was there, and somehow I wasn't so sleepy asusual, and I heard Nan's voice, and I looked over the side of thehammock, and she was sitting on the grass picking daisies, and her nursewas with her, and presently you came up. I heard you calling