by L. T. Meade
gone as wrong as MrAlwyn and I did," said Harry, "there ain't so much merry-making left inthem. Not but what a light heart, thank God, is very persevering. AndMr Alwyn's got a twinkle in him yet. But coming home's bitter hard tohim, and everybody ain't as forgiving as you, Cousin Charlotte, nor ascomfortable to ask pardon of."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
TO SET WRONGS RIGHT.
The abrupt disappearance of the new nursemaid had naturally causedconsiderable excitement at Ravenshurst, and Lily's story, when she wasasked to repeat what the new girl had said to her, did not throw muchlight on the subject. It seemed, however, to be clear that the childhad really picked up a letter in the forest, and that, on its beingshown to Florence, the girl had at once decamped. When Mrs Warren'snote came, promising an explanation, Sir Philip Carleton hummed andhawed, but told his wife that, as Cunningham's keeper's wife seemed sorespectable a person, she had better hear the explanation. As to takingthe girl back, that was another thing altogether.
Lady Carleton had no idea what the explanation was to be, and when MrsWarren appeared at the door of her morning-room with Florence behind,hanging her head, her reception was not encouraging.
"I hope, Mrs Warren, that you have some reason to give for your niece'sextraordinary conduct. She has behaved in a most unheard-of manner."
"She has, my lady, and I am going to trouble your ladyship with theexcuse for it. Some strangers were seen in the wood, and Florence hereand my little boy took it into their heads, which was none of theirbusiness, to warn the keepers about them. Then, my lady, when Florencewas putting Miss Lily to bed, the little lady showed her a letter whichshe said she had found in the wood."
"Yes," said Lady Carleton; "Miss Lily told me something about thatletter, but I had no time to attend to her. Well?"
"My lady, she saw in that letter the name of her own brother, HarryWhittaker, and perceived it was written by Mr Alwyn Cunningham, whosestory, my lady, she had heard, it seems, from my Wyn. And Florence puttwo and two together, and saw that 'twas her own brother and Mr Alwynthat she had set the keepers upon, and off she ran, without anotherthought to send Wyn to warn them. And indeed, my lady, I hardly knowwhether it was her place or not; certain sure she ought to havementioned that she was going; but her brother met her and brought herhome; and if your ladyship can overlook her behaviour, she'll be a goodgirl for the future, I do think."
"But, Mrs Warren," exclaimed Lady Carleton, to whom Florence's conductwas the least part of the matter, "do you mean to say that Mr AlwynCunningham has returned?"
"Yes, my lady, he has, and Henry Whittaker too; and I may say, yourladyship, that Henry appears to be a reformed character, and well-to-doalso. And very remarkable things he had to tell us. But those it isnot my business to trouble your ladyship with."
Mrs Warren said no word about the confession and the jewels; that, shethought, was not her business. And now that Mr Alwyn was once more inhis proper place, she had no call to discuss his character.
"Of course, my lady," she said, "if your ladyship feels that you cannotoverlook such a breach of propriety, I will take Florence back at once."
Lady Carleton looked at the girl for a moment.
"I should like Florence to stay," she said. "Will you please leave herwith me now, Mrs Warren? I see that the case was exceptional." MrsWarren thanked her ladyship, and with a discreet hope that Florencewould be grateful and obedient, withdrew at once.
"Come here, Florence," said Lady Carleton in the softest voice Florencehad ever heard. "It was a very serious thing to do, you know, to runaway without leave. It is because I think that you are a good steadygirl in general that I overlook it, as you had a reason."
"I ain't a good girl, Lady Carleton," said Florence. "I ain't steady,but I wasn't after nothing wrong last night."
"What do you mean by saying you are not steady?" said Lady Carleton,somewhat taken aback by Florence's town-bred use of her name and by herqueer manner.
"I was always the one to lead the rest," said Florence, "and I've alwaysliked a bit of fun. But I had to go and try to step them from takingHarry up for a poacher, and--and he says it ain't no manner of use tosay `Don't care,' and I'm very sorry."
"If you were able to stop the harm you had begun to do, that is a thingto be very thankful for--to thank God for!" said Lady Carleton with someemotion in her tone.
Florence looked up with a certain solemnity in her round eyes never seenthere before.
"I did say my prayers in the wood," she said, "when I lost my way, andthen Harry came."
"Tell me about it," said Lady Carleton kindly. Thus encouraged,Florence volubly, according to her nature, but with a friendliness ofmanner which was really the nearest approach to respect that she hadever exhibited, told her tale.
"And my heart was in my mouth, ma'am, the trees were that black and thatawful. I'd have run back, for I wouldn't have cared if nurse had givenme ever so much of the rough side of her tongue. But there, I couldn'thave it on my mind that I'd set the keepers on my brother and dear MissGeraldine's too. But I didn't know one path from another no more thanif there hadn't been none. And then I thought of little Miss Lily'sprayer about setting wrongs right and travellers, and I said it, LadyCarleton; and there was Harry."
"Did you, Florence? Oh, thank God for it!" said Lady Carletontearfully.
"And he took me right back, and he said this morning that the best thingI could do was to come back here and be trained a bit. And so I'vecome, please, ma'am--my lady. Please, aunt said I was to say `my lady,'and I will, but I forgot; and I'll be a good girl, and not gossip on thesly, nor answer nurse back, nor make the other girls saucy. And I'lltrim up my hat quiet, if you like, my lady. I--I want to be good."
Florence cried as she finished speaking, and wiped her eyes and blew hernose noisily. Perhaps, but for the circumstances that appealed sostrongly to her sympathy, Lady Carleton would never have recognised howreal this confused desire "to be good" was in this extraordinary girl,so unlike any well-trained maiden whom she had ever encountered.
"Well," she said, "you shall try. You had better talk as little aboutthe matter as possible, and I trust you never will `gossip on the sly,'or do anything of the kind, for I couldn't have a girl who was not niceand modest near my little ones. I will speak to nurse."
"Thank you--my lady."
But as Lady Carleton rose to take her back to the nursery, Florence'sround face suddenly beamed all over, and she said sympathetically:"They've found out who stole the jewels, my lady, and it was not Harrynor Mr Alwyn. They were as innocent as lambs."
"I think we had better not talk about that just now," said LadyCarleton; and then, with a sudden inspiration and effort, she added:"Florence, perhaps you don't know that it was partly my fault that thosejewels were lost, that I helped to put some one in the way oftemptation. It was because I was so silly, that I only thought of whatyou call `a bit of fun.' That is why I was so glad you were able toprevent the mischief you started, and why I taught Miss Lily to saythose prayers. The good God has heard them. You see, I shall be veryglad if you _are_ good."
Lady Carleton had a very simple manner, but Florence looked up at herwith the first sense of real respect--she had begun to have reallikings--that she had ever known.
"I _will_ try," she said softly, with her bold eyes cast down; and LadyCarleton took her by the hand and led her up to the nursery.
An hour or two later, when Florence, whose reception by the nurse hadnot been particularly cordial, was sitting demurely in the nurserywindow, putting her best needlework, such as it was, into Miss Lily'snew pinafore, a note was brought to Lady Carleton. "The gentleman waswaiting." Lady Carleton had thought of nothing but the half-heard storyof the returned travellers, of the hint about the jewels, and of thehope that the consequences of her girlish folly might be undone at last.
The note ran thus:--
"Ashcroft: August 5th.
"Dear Lady, Carleton,--My eldest son has returned from abroad. He asksy
our permission for a short interview, either with yourself or with SirPhilip Carleton, concerning the circumstances under which he leftEngland.
"I remain sincerely yours,--
"George Cunningham."
Lady Carleton handed the note to her husband, to whom she had alreadyrelated Florence's story.
"You will see him?" said Sir Philip. "Ask the gentleman to walk in."
It was a very uncomfortable moment both for Lady Carleton and for AlwynCunningham, who had been boy and girl together, and now hardly knew howto meet; but Sir Philip