by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER IX.
AN UNEXPECTED ROOM-MATE.
It was on that very same day that Jane Denton, Rosamund's specialfriend, complained of sudden chill and headache. She was a little sick,too, and could not touch her supper. Mrs. Merriman always kept aclinical thermometer handy, and on discovering that the young girl'stemperature was considerably over one hundred degrees, she took frightand had her removed to a room in a distant part of the house.
"If she is not better in the morning we will send for the doctor," washer verdict. "Now, girls, one thing: I do not wish the Professor to beannoyed. I undertook this school in order to save him anxiety, and if heknows of every trifling indisposition he may be terribly vexed and putout. I therefore take charge of Jane to-night, sleeping in her room andlooking after her, and administering to her simple remedies. If in themorning she is no better I will send for the doctor, and then we willknow how to act. Meanwhile you, Rosamund, have your room to yourself."
Rosamund was distressed for her friend, and boldly announced at oncethat she would act as nurse.
"I ought to," she said. "She is my friend, and I have always been fondof her. Besides, it seems exceedingly hard that you, Mrs. Merriman, whowork so much for us all day long, should have to work at night as well.Do let me undertake this."
Mrs. Merriman could scarcely keep the tears back from her eyes whenRosamund spoke. She could not help liking the girl, notwithstanding hereccentricities and her very bold act of disobedience on the previousSunday. But she was firm in her resolve.
"No, dear," she said; "I am obliged to you for making the offer."
"Hypocrite!" said Lucy angrily to herself. "She knows it cannot beaccepted."
Mrs. Merriman was not looking at Lucy; on the contrary, she was lookingfull into Rosamund's face.
"I am obliged to you for making the offer," she continued; "but it isimpossible for me to accept it, for the simple reason that there is justthe possibility that Jane may be going to have some infectious disease,in which case I could not hear of any other girl in my establishmentrunning any risk. Therefore you see for yourself that I cannot acceptyour offer. I should be unfaithful to your mother if I did."
"Oh, come, Rosamund!" said Laura Everett; "do let us go out and have achat together. Of course, Mrs. Merriman is right. We will help you allwe can, Mrs. Merriman, by being extra good girls. Isn't that the bestway?"
Mrs. Merriman admitted that it was, and the two girls, their armsentwined, went out into the soft summer night. Laura Everett, with hermerry face, blue eyes, and fair hair, was a great contrast to RosamundCunliffe. She was exceedingly clever and fond of books. Most of hertastes lay, however, in a scientific direction. She was devoted tochemistry and mathematics, and could already work well in these twobranches of science. She was intensely matter-of-fact, and in realityhad nothing whatever in common with Rosamund.
Lucy Merriman had a great admiration for Laura Everett: in the firstplace, because her mother, Lady Everett, was Mrs. Merriman's old friend;and in the next place, because she possessed, as Lucy expressed it, theinvaluable gift of common-sense. She had rather taken Laura under herown wing, had intended to make her her special friend, had meant to trother round and to show her to other friends; in short, as much aspossible to divide her from Rosamund, whom she considered a mostdangerous and pernicious influence.
But Laura had character of her own, and admired Rosamund; and now thatshe saw the girl looking rather pale, with an almost pathetic expressionin her brown eyes, her heart smote her with a sense of pity, and shewent up to her eagerly.
"I want you to tell me just what you think about the Singletons," shesaid. "Let us walk about under the trees. Isn't it nice and home-likehere? Don't you think so, Rosamund?"
"Perhaps," said Rosamund in a dubious voice. Then she added impulsively,"You see, Laura, it is somewhat difficult for me to talk to you, forLucy is your friend and she is not mine."
"I know you do not like her--I mean I know she is in every way youropposite; but if you only would take no notice of her littlepeculiarities, and accept her as she really is, you would soon find goodpoints in her. She is devoted to her parents, and is very true. I know,of course, she is a little matter-of-fact."
"Yes, that is it," said Rosamund. "For goodness' sake, Laura, don'twaste time talking about her. We can say as much as ever we like aboutthe Singletons. I must say I am rather charmed with them."
"And so am I," said Laura, "particularly with Maud. She is so bright andunselfish."
"The person I like best of the entire group is Miss Carter," saidRosamund stoutly.
"What!" exclaimed Laura, with a laugh. "That poor, thin,frightened-looking governess--'Cartery love,' as they call her?"
"Yes, 'Cartery love,' or anything else you like to name her. I took afancy to her, and thought her awfully nice. I may see more of her;there's no saying."
"You are so odd, Rosamund--so different from the other girls!"
"Mother told me that before, but somehow I never believed it. Of course,I have never been at school before."
"You can scarcely call this homely, pleasant house, school."
"I should enjoy it but for Lucy. But there, we are treading on dangerousground."
"So we are," said Laura. Then she added stoutly, "I like it in spite ofLucy; or, rather, I like Lucy as much as anything else belonging to theschool. I hope," she continued as they paced slowly under the fir-trees,"that you are not really anxious about Jane. I know that you and she arefriends."
"We have been friends almost since we were babies," said Rosamund. "Notthat we are a bit alike in character."
"Indeed you are not. Jane hasn't a quarter of your spirit."
"Perhaps it is because we are such opposites that we are such greatfriends," continued Rosamund.
"Perhaps; but do say you are not anxious about her."
"Not a scrap. I know Janey's ways. She is a little bit of a glutton ismy Jane, and she overate herself at tea at the Singletons'. Now, youmust not breathe it to mortal; but when I saw her taking that thirdplate of strawberries and cream, and that fifth hot buttered cake, Iguessed there'd be something up to-night. She gets attacks ofindigestion very severely; but if she has a chance of making a goodmeal--I mean a meal that she likes, for, of course, although the foodhere is good and plentiful, it is very simple--she never can resist it.There's my Janey to the life, so you needn't suppose that I am a littlebit anxious about her."
"Well, that's all right," said Laura. "Somehow I thought by your manneryou were."
"That is because I offered to stay in her room to-night. It did seemsuch a pity that dear Mrs. Merriman should be tired out."
"You have a very kind heart, Rosamund. Come, you know it."
"Have I? I don't think I do know it. But do you know what it is, Laura?I am tired and would like to go to bed. Do you mind if I leave you?"
Laura, who saw Lucy in the distance, and was not so taken up withRosamund as she had imagined she would be, consented without a moment'shesitation to part from her friend, and Rosamund presently went up toher own room. She had said good-night to the rest of the party, andwondered what she should feel like when she entered her room with noJane to keep her company. Not that she was anything like as attached toJane as Jane was to her; for she was Jane's idol, her ideal of all thatwas noble and princess-like and beautiful. Jane, to Rosamund, was anordinary good-tempered girl, with whom she could put up, and on whom shecould impose to a certain extent.
Nothing could exceed Rosamund's amazement, and a scream almost rose toher lips, when she entered and saw, curled up snugly in Jane's bed, noless a person than Irene Ashleigh. Irene's exceedingly bright facepeeped up above the clothes. She gave a low, impish laugh, and then saidslowly:
"Don't scream. Keep your nerve. I climbed up by the wistaria. I havebeen in bed for the last hour, expecting you. I happened to be hidingjust below the window, clinging on for bare life to the wistaria and thethick ivy, and I heard the conversation between you and Mrs. Merriman,so I knew that y
ou would have your room to yourself, and decided that Iwould share it with you. Now lock the door, for I have a great deal tosay."
"But we are not allowed to lock our doors," said Rosamund.
"You will lock it to-night, because I order you to," said Irene.
"I shall do nothing of the sort. It is my room, and I will do exactly asI like."
Irene sat up in bed. Nothing could be more picturesque than her generalappearance. She was in the red frock that she usually wore; her wildhair curled in elf-locks all over her head; her eyes, bright as stars,shone in the middle of her little elfin face; her charming lips poutedjust for a moment. Then she said in a clear tone, "What if I get up andstrike you right across the face? Will you lock the door in preferenceto that?"
"I will not lock the door."
Like a flash, Irene was out of bed and had struck Rosamund a resoundingblow on her cheek. Rosamund felt the blow tingling, but she stood firm.
"Will you lock the door now?"
"No."
"What if I give you a blow on the other cheek?"
"Here it is for your majesty," said Rosamund, turning her other cheek tothe foe.
Irene burst into a laugh.
"What a creature you are! But you know we are in danger. I have such alot to say to you, and any one may nab us. Won't you lock the door justto please me? I won't slap you any more. I am sorry I hurt your dearcheek. I came because I could not help myself, and because I could notlive without you any longer. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and nosign of you, and I just hungered for you. I am pining for you throughall the days and all the nights, through every hour, in the midst ofevery meal; not speaking about you, for that is not my way, but justhungering and hungering, and yet you say you will not lock the door."
"No, Irene; and you ought not to be here. What is to be done?"
Poor Rosamund had never felt more bewildered in her life. She had givenher word of honor; and her word of honor was, to her, worthy of respect.She had never yet broken it. Should she break it now? Irene looked ather for a few minutes in wonder. The two girls were standing in thecentre of the room, for, of course, Irene was fully dressed. Compared toRosamund, she was a small girl, for Rosamund was tall and exceedinglywell developed for her age. Irene was a couple of years younger, but shewas as lithe as steel. Her little fingers could crush and destroy ifthey pleased. Her thin arms were muscular to a remarkable degree for soyoung a girl. She had not a scrap of superfluous flesh on her body. Atthis moment she looked more spirit than girl; and if Rosamund could havegot herself to believe that there were such creatures as changelings,she might almost have given credence to Irene's own story of herself.
As it was, however, she knew quite well that there must be a fightbetween them, and that if ever she was to influence Irene for good shemust conquer her now.
"Look here," she said, going straight up to the younger girl; "you didwrong to come in here."
"I did wrong?" said Irene, with a little impish laugh. "But then Ialways do wrong. That doesn't matter."
"It may not matter to you. I am not concerning myself about your moralsat this moment, but I am thinking about my own. When you did wrong nowyou injured me, and I am not going to put up with it."
"You are not going to put up with it? And how are you going to preventit, darling?"
Before Rosamund could utter a word, Irene had sprung upon her, seizedher round the waist, and compelled Rosamund to seat herself upon theside of the bed, which she herself had been occupying a few minutes ago.
"Now, darling," she said, "you are not going to get away from me, and Ibelieve in your heart you don't want to."
Poor Rosamund! a great wave of longing to help this queer child sweptover her heart; but there was her word of honor. She was a passionate,head-strong, naughty girl; but she could not give that up. Besides, shecould not do anything with Irene in the future if she did not conquerher now.
"You are not going to--to say you don't like me?" said Irene, anexpression of absolute terror filling her eyes and making them lookwilder than ever. "Nobody ever dared to say that to me, and you are notgoing to be the first."
"As a matter of fact," said Rosamund, "I like you very much."
"There, then, I am satisfied," exclaimed Irene, and she flung her thinarms round Rosamund's neck, squeezed herself up close to her, and kissedher again and again.
"Ah!" she said, "I knew that all my life I was waiting for somebody; andthat somebody was you, just you, so big, so brave, so--so different fromall the others. I should not be the horrid thing I am if the others hadnot been afraid of me. I got worse and worse, and at last I could notcontrol myself any longer. I did things that perhaps I ought not to havedone; but if you give me up I don't know what will happen--I don't knowwhere things will end. Are you going to give me up?"
"I will tell you now exactly what has happened, Irene, and will leave itto you to judge how you ought to act for my sake at the present moment.You say you love me----"
"I suppose that is what I feel," said Irene. "It is a queer sort ofsensation, and I have never had it before. It seems to make my heartlighter, and when I think of you I seem to get a sense of rest andpleasure. When you are away from me I feel savage with every one else;but when you are near I think the best of others. And I think it is justpossible that if I saw much of you I'd be a sort of a good girl--not avery good one, but a sort of a good girl, particularly if you'd managemother and manage the servants, and tell them not to be such geese as tobe afraid of me. For, of course, you know, I can't help being achangeling."
"Now, Irene, you must listen to me. I ought to be in bed and asleep.People will hear us talking, and I won't allow the door to be locked,whether you like it or not, because it is against the rules."
"Gracious!" said Irene, "couldn't we both get out of the window, andclimb down by the wistaria and the ivy, and reach the ground, and go andhide in the plantation? We could spend the night there, locked in eachother's arms, so happy--oh, so happy! By the way, I saw a littlesummer-house--we could spend the night in the summer-house, couldn't we?Couldn't we?"
It was a temptation. Rosamund was fond of adventures. The night was avery hot one; the room was close. Outside, there were stars innumerable.Mrs. Merriman, the only person who ever invaded the girls' bedroomsafter the hours of repose, would certainly not intrude upon Rosamund. Itwould be nice to spend one night with her friend. Could she call Ireneher friend? Anyhow, it would be nice to spend one night in the open air,and she could influence Irene and help her, and----But then there wasthe word of honor.
"I can't," she said. "I would have liked it, of course. But I will tellyou what happened. When I got back home the other night I saw ProfessorMerriman, and he was very angry with me, and he said that I ought not tohave disobeyed him. I told him all about you, and"----
"Of course he hates me, horrid old frump!" said Irene. "But you are notgoing to mind him. Why, mother has been writing to him, and writing toyour mother, too; and the one thing about you that I don't quite like isthat mother had evidently been thinking that you have been sent as asort of Providence here to reform me. You must see by my making thatremark that I tolerate you very much indeed, or I should not endure it.There, it's a fact that I do care for you. I don't mind mother, and Idon't mind your mother; but I am willing to be a little bit good if youare with me. But I am not going away from you now. You can choosewhether you have me in your room all night or whether you and I spend ahappy time in that dear little bower in the plantation."
"I cannot choose either," said Rosamund stoutly, "for I will tell youwhat did happen. I promised Professor Merriman that I would have nothingto do with you for a whole week. At the end of that time I was to givehim my decision. Now, this is Wednesday, so the week won't be up untilSunday. So you must go, Irene. You must go at once. I will meet you atthe end of the week, or, if you prefer it, I will go down to ProfessorMerriman now and tell him that you came in, and that I asked you to go."
"Oh, what a mean spitfire of a thing you'd b
e if you did that!" saidIrene, her eyes flashing with anger. "You can't mean it--you simplycan't."
Just then there was the noise of approaching footsteps on the landingoutside, and the handle of the door was turned. In a flash, so quicklythat even Rosamund could not believe her own eyes, Irene was hidingunder the bed, and Lucy Merriman entered.
Lucy looked prim and neat, as usual, in her white dressing-gown and herhair in a long plait down her back.
"I have come for--but surely you were talking to some one?" she said,addressing Rosamund.
"I sometimes repeat poems to myself," said Rosamund, who was standingwith her back to Lucy, quivering all over with indignation.
"But I heard two voices; and it is against the rules for any noise to bemade in the bedrooms after ten o'clock. I have come for----"
"Do you mind telling me what you have come for, so that you may get itand go?" was Rosamund's response.
"You are exceedingly impertinent," said Lucy. "Why do you always addressme as you do? You try your utmost to make me unhappy in my own home."
"And you, instead of treating me as an honored guest, try your utmost tomake me miserable," was Rosamund's quick reply. "Never mind," shecontinued, hot passion getting the better of her; "I shall not be withyou much longer."
"That is quite nice--that is what I hoped," said Lucy almost gleefully."Well, Jane Denton is very bad, and they are thinking of sending for thedoctor. Of course, you don't care whether your friend lives or dies.Anyhow, I have been sent to fetch a bottle of aromatic vinegar whichJane, poor girl! said she had left on her washhand-stand. Ah! here itis."
Lucy took it up. She looked round the room. Poor Rosamund's terror canbe better imagined than described, for the wicked Irene had lifted thevalance of the bed, and her bright eyes and a tiny portion of her facecould be distinctly seen by any one who happened to glance in thatdirection. Had Lucy seen her she must have screamed, for nothing moreelfish than that face could be imagined. As it was, all might have beenwell had not Irene, just as Lucy was reaching the door, given a low,wild whoop, and then disappeared again under the valance of the bed.
"Now, I know you have some one there."
"If you are not afraid of rats you had better look," was Rosamund'squick response. But she turned very pale, and Lucy, who was something ofa coward herself, said after a minute's pause:
"Rats! You know there are no rats in the house. What fresh insult willyou bestow upon us?"
A moment later she had vanished from the room. Rosamund put both herhands to her hot ears. Irene sprang from her hiding-place.
"Didn't I do it well? Oh, what a hateful, hateful girl she is! Now,Rosamund--Rose--whatever you call yourself--you had better just getright out of this window with me as fast as ever you can, or you'll haveLucy bringing her precious governesses, and her mother, and that sickgirl, Jane Denton--how dare she call herself Jane, my dear mother'sname?--as well as the Professor himself, on the scene to hunt for therats. Come, Rose, out with you! We will lock the door first, and thenall will be safe."
It seemed to Rosamund at the moment that even her word of honor hadvanished out of sight, for her hatred of Lucy had really reachedboiling-point. She did turn the key in the lock, knowing well that noone would break open the door until the morning; and a minute later sheand Irene had escaped by the window, and gone down hand over hand by thewistaria and ivy until they reached the ground. Three minutes later theywere ensconced in the old summer-house, where they sat very close toeach other, Irene not talking much, and Rosamund wondering what was tobecome of her.
"It seems to me," said Rosamund to herself, as she looked down on thelittle creature who nestled up almost like a wild bird in her arms,"that I have burnt my boats, and that I cannot go back. But there is onething certain: I will tell the Professor the truth in the morning."
All that Irene did, however, during the long hours of that summer'snight was to lie fast asleep with Rosamund's arm round her. But justbefore she fell into slumber, Rosamund said:
"Aren't you cold, Irene? Surely you are not accustomed, even in themiddle of summer, to wear so little clothing at night."
"Bless you!" said Irene, "half the nights of my life I sleep in theboat. I go out just as night falls, and none of them can ever catch me;and there I sleep, curled up in the bottom of the boat. Oh! it issplendid to wake in the early morning and to hear the birds singing, andto feel the fresh, fresh air on my face. I was never meant forcivilization. When you come to live with me we will do the same, both ofus. We'll be an uncivilized pair of terrors--that is what we will be. Ifyou come to me, Rosamund, will you promise to be quite naughty? Youwon't turn awfully goody-goody, just to make me goody-goody?"
"I can promise nothing at present," said Rosamund. "You did exceedinglywrong to come, and I did worse to yield to you, and to get out of thewindow, and to spend the night with you, as I have done. I don't knowwhat will happen in the morning--I really don't--and my friend so veryill, too."
"Oh, bother your friend!" said Irene; and then she dropped off asleep,and Rosamund sat and thought things out.
At first the night-air was delightful; but as the hours went by poorRosamund, who had not brought any extra wrap with her in her hastyflight, felt chilled and tired. She woke Irene when the sun was high inthe heavens.
"Come," she said, "I have broken my word of honor, and for you; but I amgoing now to take you back as far as The Follies. What will happenafterwards I do not know, and you mustn't ask me. If you don't comequietly at once I will never have anything more to do with you as longas I live. Get up! come along!"
"Why, you are quite cross; but you look very handsome, and I admire yourways," said Irene. "Dear, dear! Wasn't it lovely sleeping in your arms?We will sleep together in a cosy bed at The Follies, won't we, darling?"
"I can't make any promises. I don't know what is going to happen. Comequickly. I want to be in the house and up in my own room before any onediscovers that I spent the night out."
There seemed reason in this to Irene, and she suffered her friend towalk with her along the road. It was a glorious summer morning; but atso early an hour--not yet five o'clock--the air was cool. Exercise,however, soon revived Rosamund, and she lost that feeling of chill andfatigue which had made the latter part of the night so unpleasant toher. As to Irene, she was as fresh as a young bird, and the pranks sheplayed, and the somersaults she turned, and the extraordinary manner inwhich she went on would have terrified many girls, although Rosamundscarcely noticed them. She had already discovered that Irene's bark wasworse than her bite, and the best plan was to let her alone and not totake too much notice of her vagaries.
The two girls parted at the gates of The Follies, Irene assuringRosamund that she was going to lay all sorts of traps for the servantsduring the next couple of hours.
"I shall have great fun," she said. "They have been more than usuallytroublesome lately, and I want every one to go, so that we can have afresh batch in their places when you come, darling; for you will come--Iknow you will--early next week. And, Rose, I will even be a little bitgood for you."
There was a suspicion of tears in the wild, star-like eyes, and then thequeer little creature flashed out of sight.
Rosamund stood still for a minute with her hand to her forehead. Shethen slowly retraced her steps. She was so lost in thought that she didnot notice the milkman as he rattled along with his cart; nor did shenotice the doctor, who passed in his gig, driving rapidly back toDartford. He, however, stared very hard at the good-looking girl,evidently a lady, who was out all alone at that early hour.
By-and-by Rosamund got back to Sunnyside. She climbed up the ivy andwistaria and re-entered her own room. She carefully shut the window,unlocked her door, undressed, and got into bed. Her first impulse hadbeen to tell the whole story of her night's adventure to ProfessorMerriman; for she felt that, stern as he could be, there was alsosomething gentle about him, and he would certainly understand her. Buton second thought the desire to confide in him passed out of sight, morepar
ticularly as there was a noise and confusion--a sort of stifledconfusion--in the house: people hurrying backwards and forwards, andvoices sunk to whispers, which came sometimes to Rosamund's ears, andsometimes receded in the distance.
By-and-by she looked at her watch and saw that it was half-past seven,the usual hour for the girls to get up. But no one had brought hotwater, and no one had called her. She felt really dead-tired at last.What did anything matter? She had got herself into such a serious scrapethat she did not think she could possibly stay more than a day or twolonger at the Merrimans' school. Of course she would be dismissed,expelled, disgraced. But she did not care. She was sorry forJane--quiet, gentle Jane--who had always been her devoted friend; butshe did not mind anybody else. Laura Everett she rather liked; but theother girls were indifferent to her, with the exception of Lucy, whomshe cordially hated. Before she knew where she was, Rosamund was soundasleep.