Girls of the Forest Part 16

"But you can't keep your promise, can you, darling? So don't say any more about it. Anyhow, promise or not, I'm going to kiss you now."

Nancy flung her arms tightly round Pauline's neck and printed several loud, resounding kisses on each cheek; then she seated herself under an oak tree, and motioned to Pauline to do likewise.

Pauline hesitated just for a moment; then scruples were forgotten, and she sat on the ground close to Nancy's side.

"Tell me all about it," said Nancy. "Wipe your eyes and talk. Don't be frightened; it's only poor old Nancy, the girl you have known since you were that high. And I'm rich, Paulie pet, and although we're only farmer-folk, we live in a much finer house than The Dales. And I'm going to have a pony soon--a pony of my very own--and my habit is being made for me at Southampton. I intend to follow the hounds next winter. Think of that, little Paulie. You'll see me as I ride past. I'm supposed to have a very good figure, and I shall look ripping in my habit. Well, but that's not to the point, is it? You are in trouble, you poor little dear, and your old Nancy must try and make matters better for you. I love you, little Paulie. I'm fond of you all, but you are my special favorite. You were always considered something like me--dark and dour when you liked, but suns.h.i.+ny when you liked also. Now, what is it, Paulie? Tell your own Nancy."

"I'm very fond of you, Nancy," replied Pauline. "And I think," she continued, "that it is perfectly horrid of Aunt Sophia to say that we are not to know you."

"It's sn.o.bbish and mean and unlady-like," retorted Nancy; "but her saying it doesn't make it a fact, for you do know me, and you will always have to know me. And if she thinks, old spiteful! that I'm going to put up with her nasty, low, mean, proud ways, she's fine and mistaken. I'm not, and that's flat. So there, old spitfire! I shouldn't mind telling her so to her face."

"But, on the whole, she has been kind to us," said Pauline, who had some sense of justice in her composition, angry as she felt at the moment.

"Has she?" said Nancy. "Then let me tell you she has not a very nice way of showing it. Now, Paulie, no more beating about the bush. What's up?

Your eyes are red; you have a great smear of ink on your forehead; and your hands--my word! for so grand a young lady your hands aren't up to much, my dear."

"I have got into trouble," said Pauline. "I didn't do my lessons properly yesterday; I couldn't--I had a headache, and everything went wrong. So this morning I could not say any of them when Aunt Sophia called me up, and she put me into Punishment Land. You know, don't you, that I am soon to have a birthday?"

"Oh, don't I?" interrupted Nancy. "Didn't a little bird whisper it to me, and didn't that same little bird tell me exactly what somebody would like somebody else to give her? And didn't that somebody else put her hand into her pocket and send---- Oh, we won't say any more, but she did send for something for somebody's birthday. Oh, yes, I know. You needn't tell me about that birthday, Pauline Dale."

"You are good," said Pauline, completely touched. She wondered what possible thing Nancy could have purchased for her. She had a wild desire to know what it was. She determined then and there, in her foolish little heart, that nothing would induce her to quarrel with Nancy.

"It is something that you like, and something that will spite her," said the audacious Nancy. "I thought it all out, and I made up my mind to kill two birds with one stone. Now to go on with the pretty little story. We didn't please aunty, and we got into trouble. Proceed, Paulie pet."

"I didn't learn my lessons. I was cross, as I said, and headachy, and Aunt Sophia said I was to be made an example of, and so she sent me to Punishment Land for twenty-four hours."

"Oh, my dear! It sounds awful. What is it?"

"Why, none of my sisters are to speak to me, and I am only to walk in the north walk."

"Is this the north walk?" asked Nancy, with a merry twinkle in her black eyes.

"Of course it isn't. She may say what she likes, but I'm not going to obey her. But the others won't speak to me. I can't make them. And I am to take my meals by myself in the schoolroom, and I am to go to bed at seven o'clock."

Pauline told her sad narrative in a most lugubrious manner, and she felt almost offended at the conclusion when Nancy burst into a roar of laughter.

"It's very unkind of you to laugh when I'm so unhappy," said Pauline.

"My dear, how can I help it? It is so ridiculous to treat a girl who is practically almost grown up in such a baby fas.h.i.+on. Then I'd like to know what authority she has over you."

"That's the worst of it, Nancy. Father has given her authority, and she has it in writing. She's awfully clever, and she came round poor father, and he had to do what she wanted because he couldn't help himself."

"Jolly mean, I call it," said Nancy. "My dear, you are pretty mad, I suppose."

"Wouldn't you be if your father treated you like that?"

"My old dad! He knows better. I've had my swing since I was younger than you, Paulie. Of course, at school I had to obey just a little. I wasn't allowed to break all the rules, but I did smuggle in a good many relaxations. The thing is, you can do what you like at school if only you are not found out. Well, I was too clever to be found out. And now I am grown up, eighteen last birthday, and I have taken a fancy to cling to my old friends, even if they have a sn.o.bby, ridiculous old aunt to be rude to me. My dear, what nonsense she did write!--all about your being of such a good family, and that I wasn't in your station. I shall keep that letter. I wouldn't lose it for twenty s.h.i.+llings. What have you to boast of after all is said and done? A tumble-down house; horrid, shabby, old-fas.h.i.+oned, old-maidy clothes; and never a decent meal to be had."

"But it isn't like that now," said Pauline, finding herself getting very red and angry.

"Well, so much the better for you. And did I make the little mousy-pousy angry? I won't, then, any more, for Nancy loves little mousy-pousy, and would like to do what she could for her. You love me back, don't you, mousy?"

"Yes, Nancy, I do love you, and I think it's a horrid shame that we're not allowed to be with you. But, all the same, I'd rather you didn't call me mousy."

"Oh dear, how dignified we are! I shall begin to believe in the ancient family if this sort of thing continues. But now, my dear, the moment has come to help you. The hour has arrived when your own Nancy, vulgar as she is, can lend you a helping hand. Listen."

"What?" said Pauline.

"Jump up, Paulie; take my hand, and you and I together will walk out through that wicket-gate, and go back through the dear old Forest to The Hollies, and spend the day at my home. There are my boy cousins from London, and my two friends, Rebecca and Amelia Perkins--jolly girls, I can tell you. We shall have larks. What do you say, Paulie? A fine fright she'll be in when she misses you. Serve her right, though."

"But I daren't come with you," said Pauline. "I'd love it more than anything in the world; but I daren't. You mustn't ask me. You mustn't try to tempt me, Nancy, for I daren't go."

"I didn't know you were so nervous."

"I am nervous about a thing like that. Wild as I have been, and untrained all my life, I do not think I am out-and-out wicked. It would be wicked to go away without leave. I'd be too wretched. Oh, I daren't think of it!"

Nancy pursed up her lips while Pauline was speaking; then she gave vent to a low, almost incredulous whistle. Finally she sprang to her feet.

"I am not the one to try and make you forget your scruples," she said.

"Suppose you do this. Suppose you come at seven o'clock to-night. Then you will be safe. You may be wicked, but at least you will be safe.

She'll never look for you, nor think of you again, when once you have gone up to bed. You have a room to yourself, have you not?"

Pauline nodded.

"I thought so. You will go to your room, lock the door, and she will think it is all right. The others won't care to disturb you. If they do they'll find the door locked."

"But I am forbidden to lock my room door."

"They will call to you, but you will not answer. They may be angry, but I don't suppose your sisters will tell on you, and they will only suppose you are sound asleep. Meanwhile you will be having a jolly good time; for I can tell you we are going to have sport to-night at The Hollies--fireworks, games, plans for the future, etc., etc. You can share my nice bed, and go back quite early in the morning. I have a lot to talk over with you. I want to arrange about our midnight picnic."

"But, Nancy, we can't have a midnight picnic."

"Can't we? I don't see that at all. I tell you what--we will have it; and we'll have it on your birthday. Your birthday is in a week. That will be just splendid. The moon will be at the full, and you must all of you come. Do you suppose I'm going to be balked of my fun by a stupid old woman? Ah! you little know me. My boy cousins, Jack and Tom, and my friends, Becky and Amy, have made all arrangements. We are going to have a time! Of course, if you are not there, you don't suppose our fun will be stopped! You'll hear us laughing in the glades. You won't like that, will you? But we needn't say any more until seven o'clock to-night."

"I don't think I'm coming."

"But you are, Paulie. No one will know, and you must have a bit of fun.

Perhaps I'll show you the present I'm going to give you on your birthday; there's no saying what I may do; only you must come."

Nancy had been standing all this time. Pauline had been reclining on the ground. Now she also rose to her feet.

"You excite me," she said. "I long to go, and yet I am afraid; it would be so awfully wicked."

"It would be wicked if she was your mother, but she's not. And she has no right to have any control over you. She just got round your silly old father----"

"I won't have dad called silly!"

"Well, your learned and abstracted father. It all comes to much the same.