The Governess Part 23

"Certainly. Delia has everything on the table. But won't you want to run upstairs and give your face and hands a little scrub?"

Nan's forehead wrinkled, and she was on the point of uttering an exclamation of disgust. But she caught herself up, and pressing her lips together hard, flew upstairs without a word of protest. She finished her luncheon in marvelously quick time.

"If you wish to go you may be excused," her companion announced, as the last crumb was swallowed. A gleam of surprise lit upon Nan's face.

"Thank you," she said, and went her way feeling more contented with herself than she had done in many a long day.

It was late when she returned, and not finding Miss Blake in any other part of the house, she went to the governess' room and tapped on the door for admittance, a thing she had never done before, from pure perversity and a determination not to "let any person suppose she cared to see them when she didn't have to."

Miss Blake herself opened the door to her and invited her to "step into her parlor," most cordially, adding:

"I'm just having my afternoon tea. Won't you take a cup with me?"

At first Nan could scarcely find voice to reply, so strange did she feel in this altered room. When she had last seen it it was bare and cold and comfortless, and now--

The windows were draped with inner curtains of dainty Swiss. Hangings of some soft, pale green stuff hung before them and in all the doorways. The bed was shoved into a far corner of the room, and where it had once been, against the wall, a low bookcase now stood, displaying rows of tempting books upon its well-laden shelves, and above them delicate bits of bric-a-brac. A rug covered the centre of the floor. The ugly mantel-shelf was hidden from sight by an Oriental scarf, and upon it stood all manner of odd and curious trifles. The shabby lounge was covered by a fine old rug and piled with cus.h.i.+ons, while beside it stood the quaint stand and bra.s.s tray that Nan had feasted from when her foot was lame; only now it held a brightly burnished alcohol kettle, out of which steam was issuing in the most hospitable fas.h.i.+on possible. Here also were dainty cups and saucers, and here it was that Miss Blake brewed her tea after she had led her guest to a chair and helped her remove her cap and coat with all the solicitude of a veritable hostess.

"Well, how has the day gone?" asked she, trying not to betray her amus.e.m.e.nt at Nan's obvious amazement.

"Oh, finely! We had a jolly good time. Lu can go alone now. John and I took her out and simply made her skate. Ruth goes floundering about like a seal, and every one laughs at her, but she's so good-natured she doesn't mind, and one can't help liking her. Such a funny thing happened.

"We were standing still for a minute waiting for Lu to catch her breath, and all at once we saw Ruth coming galloping toward us in her ridiculous way. A big, fat man was skating in the other direction, but nowhere near her, and we didn't notice him particularly till she veered suddenly off and crashed straight into him, without any excuse at all, just hurled into him plump, and bowled him square over. It was the most deliberate thing I ever saw. She had gone out of her way to do it, but, of course, she didn't mean to. They both went cras.h.i.+ng down with such a thump I thought it would break the ice, and as he went over he said: 'Good gracious!' in the mildest, funniest voice you ever heard. John hurried off and helped him up, and I got Ruth on her feet again, all covered with snow, and as mortified as could be, but choking with laughter. The man looked worried, and we asked him if he was hurt. He said, 'No! Oh, no indeed!' and then he turned to Ruth with the most embarra.s.sed sort of apologetic smile--just as if he had been to blame.

"'I'm so sorry!' he stammered. 'It is the strangest thing how it could have occurred. I thought you were over there. I really thought I was in no one's way. Oh, would you mind telling me--a--what I said when I--a--fell?'

"Lu was swallowing her pocket-handkerchief to keep from laughing out, and I know I was grinning.

"Why, I think you said, 'Good gracious!'" said Ruth, shakily.

"'Oh, thank, you!' the man cried, looking ever so much relieved. 'I thought I said 'Good gracious,' but I--I wasn't sure. I'm very glad!'

and he shambled off as if he were lamed for life, poor thing, while Ruth and Lu and John and I simply rocked with laughter. And now when anything happens John says 'Good gracious!' in the mildest tone, and then goes on, 'What did I say? Oh, thank you. I thought I said "Good gracious," but I wasn't sure!'" and Nan broke into a chuckle at the mere recollection of the thing. Miss Blake laughed in sympathy, and she and Nan drank their tea and nibbled their wafers in the most amicable fas.h.i.+on possible, talking over, not alone the pleasant experiences, but also that which had threatened to spoil Nan's day, the remembrance of which made her shudder even now.

She repeated the incident to Miss Blake, concluding with:

"I don't care what they think!"

"John was right," declared Miss Blake, "and you did what was brave and just. But don't give up trying to win Mary's and Grace's good opinion, Nan. I want you to be respected and loved, and you can be, if you will only be as true to yourself as you are to your friends. You were not satisfied to let Lu and Ruth rest under a false accusation this morning. Neither should you be satisfied to let yourself. Prove to Mary and Grace that you are neither bold nor brazen. Force them to see that you are kind and lovable and courageous."

"Oh, dear! How can I?" despaired Nan.

"Why, simply by being so," declared Miss Blake.

Nan fell silent, and then, when Miss Blake was just beginning to wonder what new caprice her guest had fallen victim to, she broke out impetuously:

"Oh, I say Miss Blake! it is just festive in here. I never saw anything that began to be so pretty."

It was genuine praise, and Miss Blake really flushed with gratification as she replied:

"Thank you, Nan. I think myself it is cozy, and I am very happy if my little nest pleases you. It is a very simple one. I am my own upholsterer and my own decorator, so I have a special reason to value any praise of my small domain. You must come often if you like it here, for I love to play hostess to so appreciative a guest!"

Nan settled back among the cus.h.i.+ons with a contented sigh.

"I wish," she said presently, "I wish the rest of the house looked this way."

"If you really would like to make some changes, Nan, I will do my best.

What there is in the house is good and substantial, and with a little alteration could be made to serve very well."

Nan looked up eagerly.

"Oh, let's try and fix up the house, for father's coming home. Mr.

Turner will give us some money to pay for repairs, I guess--he always does when pipes burst and things. Won't it be jolly to watch father's face when he comes in and sees it all so pretty here? Poor old papa!

Mr. Turner says he may come in the fall, and so we'll have all the summer to work and plan in, and then when he's here, won't we have a jubilation, Miss Blake?"

The governess stooped to pick up a pin, and she did not reply. Then she rose and carried the tea-cups and plates to the washstand, where she began rinsing them carefully.

"When your father comes home I shall not be here, you know," she said simply; "but you will be very happy together, and I am sure he would enjoy a pretty home!"

The radiance in Nan's face faded suddenly. The same dull pain was at her heart that she had felt and shrunk from yesterday. Only now it did not pa.s.s away, and all the evening she seemed to be haunted by a peculiar sense of impending misfortune. It was as though she had been reminded of some unhappy occasion that she had tried to forget. Every once in a while after that, when she saw Miss Blake laboriously toiling to renovate some dilapidated piece of furniture, or heard her discussing with Delia the remaining possibilities of this carpet or that pair of curtains, she felt an almost uncontrollable desire to cry out--so sharp was the sudden sting of regret that bit at her conscience--and so keen the pain that pierced her heart.

Miss Blake left her to enjoy her holidays in perfect freedom, but as soon as they were spent the books were brought out again and lessons resumed as strictly as if the discipline of an entire school depended on it.

But study had grown to have no terrors for Nan, and she was not at all aware of the thorough course she was being put through, because it was all accomplished in such an un.o.btrusive fas.h.i.+on. Miss Blake had a system of her own which she put into practice, and the girl followed her unconsciously with an interest that showed how wise an one it was.

Latin and mathematics proved the most troublesome of the tasks, and would perhaps have led to some serious differences of opinion if Miss Blake had not confessed herself at the start "rusty" in these particular branches and suggested that they "go over them together."

"I really never was very strong in either of them, and it will do me good to review," she explained.

So, spurred on by the thought of compet.i.tion, Nan did her best; went through the declensions with a rush, and quite outstripped her fellow-student in the matter of algebraic problems.

History was always simple enough with Miss Blake to make it seem like the most dramatic of romances, and the girl discovered a fresh interest in the Roman heroes when the scenes of their exploits was so graphically described to her, and when she could build up the ancient city for herself by the aid of Miss Blake's admirable photographs of the present.

"It seems to me you have done more traveling than any one I ever knew!"

exclaimed the girl for the hundredth time one day.

"It has been all I had to do," rejoined the governess wistfully. "For many, many years I have had nothing else. But now all that is changed, and--as it is half-past one, and I hear Delia coming up to announce luncheon, I'll dismiss my cla.s.s, and declare school over for to-day."

"That is always the way," mused Nan, "whenever I refer to her and try to start her telling about herself she veers off and talks of something else. Queer about her traveling so much, though. I wonder how she came to do it--when she's so poor. She never said straight out she was some one's companion, and I don't think a governess would be taken all over the globe like that."

While the ice lasted Nan had many a good hour upon her skates. Miss Blake too donned hers, and at these times the tables were turned and Nan became the patient teacher, the governess the obedient pupil.

"My ankles are weak," pleaded the pupil in apology for persistent failure.

"Exercise 'em and they'll grow strong!" declared the intrepid instructor in peremptory tones.

"It's no use, I can't reverse, Nan!"

"Pooh! 'Never say can't till you've proved that the task is impossible,'" quoted Nan, with a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"You're real mean, so there!" responded Miss Blake in return with such a good imitation of her own querulous tone that the girl burst into a shout of laughter, and the two started off again to make another, perhaps futile attempt, at the difficult feat, until, by the latter part of the winter, Miss Blake acquitted herself so creditably that her teacher regarded her with pardonable pride, and declared,