Sue, A Little Heroine Part 10

Presently she came up to the object of her search--an exceedingly pretty, dark-haired boy of about ten years of age. His face was pale, his features regular, his eyes very large, brown, and soft, like rich brown velvet. He did not pay much attention to Connie, but went on laying out a pile of horse-chestnuts which he had gathered in rows on the ground.

"Be your name Ronald?" said Connie, coming up to him.

He looked at her, then sprang to his feet, and politely took off his little cap.

"Yes, my name is Ronald Harvey."

"I ha' come to fetch yer," said Connie.

"What for?" asked the boy.

"It's Mammy Warren," said Connie in a low tone.

"What?" asked the child.

His face, always pale, now turned ghastly white.

"She's such a nice woman," said Connie.

She sat down by Ronald.

"Show me these purty b.a.l.l.s," she said. "Wot be they?"

"Chestnuts," said the boy. "Did you ever see them before? That was not true what you said about--about----"

"Yus," said Connie, "it is true. I'm a little gel stayin' with her now, and you--I want you to come back with me. She's real, real kind is Mammy Warren."

The boy put his hand up to his forehead.

"You seem a nice girl," he said, "and you look like--like a lady, only you don't talk the way ladies talk. I'm a gentleman. My father was an officer in the army, and my darling mother died, and--and something happened--I don't know what--but I was very, very, very ill. There was an awful time first, and there seemed to be a woman called Mammy Warren mixed up in the time and----"

"Oh, you had fever," said Connie, "and you--you pictured things to yourself in the fever. But 'tain't true," she added earnestly. "I'm wid her, an' she's real, real, wonnerful kind."

"You wouldn't tell a lie, would you, girl?" said the boy.

Connie bit her lip hard.

"No," she said then in a choked voice.

"I wonder if it's true," said the boy. "It seems to me it was much more than the fever, but I can't--I can't _quite_ remember."

"She is very kind," echoed Connie.

"Children, come along in," said a cheerful voice at that moment; and Connie, raising her eyes, saw the st.u.r.dy form of Mrs. Warren advancing up the path to meet her.

"She was terrible cruel in my time," said Ronald, glancing at the same figure. "I don't want to go back."

"Oh, do--do come back, for my sake!" whispered Connie.

He turned and looked into the beautiful little face.

"Boys have to be good," he said then, "and--and brave. My father was a very brave man." Then he struggled to his feet.

"Well, Ronald," said Mrs. Warren, "and 'ow may yer be, my dear little boy? This is Connie, a cousin o' yourn. Wot playmates you two wull be!

Ye're both comin' back with me to my nice 'ome this wery arfternoon. And now Mrs. Cricket 'as got a meal for us all and then yer little things'll be packed, Ronald, and I'll carry 'em--for in course yer nurse ought to carry yer clothes, my boy. We'll get off to the train as fast as ever we can arter we've had our meal. Now, children, foller me back to the cottage."

Mrs. Warren sailed on in front. Connie and Ronald followed after, hand in hand. There was quite a splendid color in Connie's pale cheeks now, for all of a sudden she saw a reason for her present life. She had got to protect Ronald, who was so much younger than herself. She would protect him with her very life if necessary.

CHAPTER X.

THE RETURN TO LONDON.

Mrs. Warren made a very hearty meal. She swallowed down cup after cup of strong coffee, and ate great hunches of thick bread-and-b.u.t.ter, and called out to the children not to s.h.i.+rk their food.

But, try as they would, neither Connie nor Ronald had much appet.i.te.

Connie, in spite of herself, could not help casting anxious glances at the little boy, and whenever she did so she found that Mrs. Warren had fixed her with her bold black eyes. It seemed to Connie that Mrs.

Warren's eyes said quite as plainly as though her lips had spoken:

"I'll keep my word; there's the room with no winder and no light in it--yer'll find yerself in there ef yer don't look purty sharp."

But notwithstanding the threatening expression of Mrs. Warren's eyes, Connie could not restrain all sign of feeling. Ronald, on the other hand, appeared quite bright. He devoted himself to Connie, helping her in the most gentlemanly way to the good things which Mrs. Cricket had provided.

"The apple jam is very nice," he said. "I watched Mrs. Cricket make it.--Didn't I, Mrs. Cricket?"

"That you did, my little love," said the good woman. "And I give you a little saucer of it all hot and tasty for your tea, didn't I, my little love?"

"Oh yes," replied Ronald; "and didn't I like it, just!"

"Jam's wery bad for little boys," said Mrs. Warren at this juncture.

"Jam guvs little boys fever an' shockin' cruel dreams. It's bread-and-b.u.t.ter as little boys should heat, and sometimes bread without b.u.t.ter in case they should turn bilious."

"Oh no, ma'am, begging your pardon," here interrupted Mrs. Cricket; "I haven't found it so with dear little Master Ronald. You tell his parients, please, ma'am, that it's milk as he wants--lots and lots of country milk--and--and a chop now and then, and chicken if it's young and tender. That was 'ow I pulled 'im round.--Wasn't it, Ronald, my dear?"

"Yes," said Ronald in his gentlemanly way. "You were very good indeed, Mrs. Cricket."

"Perhaps," interrupted Mrs. Warren, drawing herself up to her full height, which was by no means great, and pursing her lips, "yer'll 'ave the goodness, Mrs. Cricket, to put on a piece o' paper the exact diet yer like to horder for this yere boy. I'm a busy woman," said Mrs.

Warren, "and I can't keep it in my 'ead. It's chuckens an' chops an'

new-laid heggs--yer did say new-laid heggs at thruppence each didn't yer, Mrs. Cricket?--an' the richest an' best milk, mostly cream, I take it."

"I said nothing about new-laid eggs," said Mrs. Cricket, who was exceedingly exact and orderly in her mind; "but now, as you 'ave mentioned them, they'd come in very 'andy. But I certain did speak of the other things, and I'll write 'em down ef yer like."

"Do," said Mrs. Warren, "and I'll mention 'em to the child's parients w'en I see 'em."

But at this juncture something startling happened, for Ronald, white as a sheet, rose.