by L. T. Meade
fordinner, and green peas--"
"What _do_ you mean?" said Brenda, her eyes flashing. "A couple ofducks and green peas! You know how expensive ducks are."
"I don't," said Fanchon calmly--"all I know about them is that they aregood to eat and Joey has ordered them. Oh--and we're going to haveraspberry and currant pie too, and a lot of cream with it--"
"And you expect _me_ to pay for these luxuries out of the housekeepingmoney?"
"Of course we do, Brenda--who else would pay for them?"
"But I tell you I can't--you don't understand how little your fathergives me; it is absolutely impossible--you must countermand that order_at once_, Fanchon--go and do it this minute while I get up. I shallsend cook out presently for a bit of steak, and potatoes from the gardenwill do; there are no peas, and it is the height of extravagance to buythem."
"You'll be a great deal too late, for they are all in the house; and Ithink cook has put the ducks in the oven. Anyhow," continued Fanchon,suddenly changing her tone, "I don't mean to stop either Joey or Nina.They're buying food--proper food--for us, and you've got to pay for it."
"I don't understand you--you are exceedingly impertinent. I must speakto your father."
"You can of course, if you like," answered Fanchon, with great calmness,"but all the same, I don't think you will; I've got something to say toyou, Brenda, and it is something rather dreadful."
"What?" said Brenda.
She longed to rouse herself into a towering passion, but she had thememory of her dream still over her, and the thought of Mr Amberley'sface with its changed and quite awful expression. She was more tired,too, than she cared to own. She found her eyes fixed upon those of hereldest pupil. What a dreadful-looking girl she was--so singularly plainand ungainly--all legs and arms, and with that truly disagreeable face!Brenda contrasted her with a girl she had seen at Hazlitt Chase, andwondered how she had endured her own position so long. And now thisgirl was actually bullying her--a girl not fifteen years of age!
Fanchon seemed to read some of her governess' discomfiture andamazement; in short, she was enjoying herself mightily. It wasdelightful to turn the tables; it was delicious for the slave to be,even for a short time, the master. She, therefore, continued in a calmvoice:
"I'd best tell you everything, and then you will know what is to bedone. To begin with: I think you partly owe the discovery we have madeto the fact that you, in your spirit of parsimony, would not give poorlittle Nina flounces to her dress."
Brenda gasped, but was speechless.
"And," continued Fanchon, "Nina, although she is not yet eleven years ofage, is no fool, and so yesterday, when you were out of the way--youknow the old proverb, `When the cat's away, the mice will play,'--well,that poor little mouse, Nina, thought she would have a gambol on her ownaccount yesterday, and Joey and I joined in. We quizzed father withgreat dexterity and--in short, Madam Cat!--we found you out!"
These last words were quite terrible. From Fanchon's pale eyes a steelyfire shot forth. It seemed to scorch the miserable Brenda, who shranklower on her pillows and longed for the ceiling to fall on her.
"I,"--she began tremblingly--"I think you are quite the mostimpertinent--and I wish--I wish--you would go. I shall speak--to--toyour dear father. I'll just get dressed and go to him."
Here Brenda burst into tears.
"Your tears won't do any good, Madam Cat," said Fanchon, "and I am not abit impertinent, and as to telling father, why, you can tell himanything you like, after you have listened to me. The girls know that Iam talking to you, so we won't be disturbed. Now then--stop crying--you're in my power, and you're in Joey's power, and you're in Nina'spower, and the sooner you realise that fact, the better for you."Brenda uttered a deep sigh. She thought she saw a loop-hole of hope.The girls, after all, did not matter--not greatly--whatever thoseimpertinent little creatures had discovered. It was the Reverend Josiahwhom she really dreaded, and if she were in his power, he would not havegiven her Welsh rabbit on the previous night, nor been so very, verykind, nor have looked at her so admiringly. If Fanchon had not gone toofar, there was still hope. She, therefore, wiped her eyes and sat up.
"What is it?" she said meekly. "I am a poor prisoner at your bar,Fanchon--out with the indictment--tell the prisoner of what offence sheis guilty."
"I'll tell you first of all what we suspect, and afterwards I will tellyou what we know," said Fanchon.
"You terrible, impertinent child--how dare you suspect me of anything!"
"We three suspect that you don't spend all the money papa gives you forhousekeeping, on the housekeeping. Cause why: We are always sodreadfully hungry and the meals are so shocking poor--and--cause why: Weknow that you save money for yourself in other quarters--"
"Do you think I would steal a _farthing_--of your dear papa's money, youdreadful, dreadful--horrible child!" said Brenda.
"I don't _think_ about what I know," replied Fanchon. "Now listen.Look at that sum." Here she thrust a carefully made out account intoBrenda's hand. Brenda read the items, tears rushing back to her eyesand her heart palpitating wildly. The grand total of one pound, threeshillings, and a penny stared her in the face. "And now," continuedFanchon, "having discovered that this was exactly what you spent on ourpoor little clothes, we should like to know what you propose to do withthe balance."
"The balance, child!" said Brenda. "I haven't a penny--not a pennyover. In fact, although I wouldn't trouble your father, you are alittle bit in debt to me--I mean the gloves--I couldn't tell you, andyou had to have gloves--but _I_ paid for the gloves."
"Oh--you wicked Brenda!" said Fanchon--"you intolerably wicked woman!Nina talked to father yesterday, and father told her that he gave youthree pounds for each of us, in order to clothe us for the seaside. Soyou have still in your possession seven pounds, sixteen shillings, andeleven-pence of our money. It's my belief that you have spent it onyour own clothes! There--you can't deny it--we know what the things youbought cost--the miserable--horrid--_mean_ things you bought! and weknow what poor papa gave you, for he told Nina and afterwards I went andasked him and he told me too."
"And does he--does he know--anything else?" asked Brenda.
"Nothing else at present, but he will soon."
Brenda lay very still and thoughtful on her bed. After a minute shesaid:
"Fanchon--you are quite mistaken in me."
"I know you thoroughly," said Fanchon; "I always believed you to beintensely conceited, frightfully--appallingly vain, and--not toohonourable. But now I also know that you are nothing more nor less thana common thief! How long do you think father would keep you in thehouse if he knew?"
"But--he doesn't know, dear, dear Fanchon!"
"Not yet. We thought we'd tell you first--it seemed only fair to giveyou that chance."
"How sweet of you, Fanchon."
"But I have told you now, and I shall go straight to him this veryminute and show him this little sum unless you confess the truth to me."
"I--I--" said Brenda--"what truth?"
"Have you got seven pounds, sixteen shillings, and eleven-pence of ourmoney in your possession? If you say no--I go immediately to father.If you say yes--why, perhaps I will wait an hour or so."
Brenda almost smiled when Fanchon made use of the last words.
"Then," she said in a gentle tone, "I have still got the money,for you--for you. I thought we could spend it best atMarshlands-on-the-Sea."
"Oh, no, you didn't," said Fanchon--"those sort of lies won't go downany longer with us. But as you have made a sort of confession, you maydress yourself. You won't grumble, I think, when you come downstairsand enjoy our good dinner, and after dinner I'll have another talk withyou. It is my turn to dictate terms now, and I mean to enjoy myself."
With this last remark Fanchon marched out of the room, wrenching thedoor open noisily and banging it after her. Her two little sisters werewaiting on the landing.
"The cat has confessed," she said, "and so the poor l
ittle mice may playas much as they like. Not a word to dad--we'd have no fun if he knew--we can do exactly what we like with her now."
Josephine clapped her hands. Nina enquired if the ducks and green peasand raspberry and currant tart, with unlimited cream, had beenmentioned.
"Oh, yes; and we shall enjoy our dinner--poor starved creatures," saidFanchon.
The three girls tripped downstairs. The old rectory was already full ofthe odorous smell of roast duck. Mr
