by L. T. Meade
Nellie, tumbling over the hay-cocks: howsunburnt they are! such a jolly little pair! I am sorry about Nellie'sbracelet; the loss of it makes her think too much of that sort of thing.I am quite afraid she will never find it now. What would you like todo, Penelope? You looked so happy when you came downstairs, but nowyou're a little tired."
"I think I am a little tired," said Penelope. "I think for this morningI'd like a book best."
"Then here we are--this is the school library: every jolly schoolgirl'sand schoolboy's story that has ever been written finds its way into thisroom. Run in, and make your choice, and then come out. The grounds areall round you--shade everywhere, and pleasure, pleasure all day long."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
THE SEASIDE.
Brenda and her three pupils had arrived two or three days before atMarshlands-on-the-Sea. It cannot be said their lodgings were exactly"chic," for the Reverend Josiah could not rise to apartments anythingapproaching to that term. He had given Brenda a certain sum which wasto cover the expenses of their month's pleasure, and had told her tomake the best of it. Brenda had expostulated and begged hard for more;but no--for once the Reverend Josiah was firm. He said that hissuffering parishioners required all his surplus money, and that thegirls and their governess must stay at the seaside for five guineas aweek. Brenda shook her head, and declared that it was impossible; but,seeing that no more was to be obtained, she made the best of things, andwhen she arrived at Marshlands just in the height of the summer season,she finally took up her abode at a fifth-rate boarding-house in a littlestreet which certainly did not face the sea.
Here she and her pupils were taken for a guinea a week each, and Brendahad the surplus to spend on teas out and on little expeditionsgenerally. She was careful on these occasions to be absolutely andthoroughly honest. She even consulted Nina on the subject. She wasexceedingly polite to Nina just now and, at the same time, intenselysarcastic. She was fond of asking Nina, even in the middle of the_table d'hote_ dinner, if she had her pencil and notebook handy, and ifshe would then and there kindly enter the item of twopence threefarthings spent on cherries,--quarter of a pound to eat on the beach,--or if she had absolutely forgotten the fact that she was obliged toprovide a reel of white and a reel of black cotton for necessary repairsof the wardrobe. How Nina hated her pretty governess on theseoccasions! how her little eyes would flash with indignation and hersmall face looked pinched with the sense of tragedy which oppressed her,and which she could not understand.
The commonplace ladies who lived in the commonplace boarding-house weredeeply interested in Nina's extraordinary talent for accounts. Theygently asked the exceedingly pretty and attractive Miss Carlton what itmeant.
"Simply a little mania of hers," said Brenda, with a shrug of her plumpwhite shoulders, for she always wore _decolletee_ dress at late dinnerand her shoulders and arms were greatly admired by the other visitors atthe boarding-house. Nina began to dread the subject of accounts. Onceshe forgot her notebook and pencil on purpose, but Brenda was a matchfor her. She asked her in a loud semi-whisper if she could tot upexactly what they had expended that day, and when Nina replied that shehad left the notebook upstairs, she was desired immediately to go tofetch it. The little girl left the room on this occasion with a senseof almost hatred at her heart.
"Fetch that odious book! oh dear, oh dear!" She wished everyaccount-book in the world at the bottom of the sea. She wished she hadnever interfered with Brenda. She wished she had never made thatterrible little sum on the day when Brenda went to Hazlitt Chase. Shewas being severely punished for her anxiety and her sense of justice.Brenda had determined that this should be the case, and had given hersmall pupil a terrible time while she was spending that seven pounds,sixteen shillings, and eleven-pence on extra clothes for her pupils.
She took them into a fashionable shop, for, as the money had to bespent, she was determined that it should be done as quickly as possible.As she could not save it for herself, she wanted to get rid of it, itdid not matter how quickly. Therefore, while Fanchon stood transfixedwith admiration of her own figure in a muslin hat before a long glass,and eagerly demanded that it should be bought immediately, it was poorNina who was brought forward to decide.
"It is becoming," said Brenda, gazing at her pupil critically; "thatpale shade of blue suits you _to perfection_; and that `chic' littlemauve bow at the side is so very, very _comme il faut_. But that is notthe question in the very least, Fanchon--whether it becomes you or not.It is this: can we afford it--or rather, can Nina afford it? Nina,look. Can you afford to allow your sister to buy that hat?"
The serving-woman in the shop very nearly tittered when the plain,awkward little girl--the youngest of the party--was brought forward tomake such a solemn decision. Nina herself was very sulky, and, withoutglancing at the hat, said:
"Yes, take it, I don't care!"
"Very well, darling," said Brenda. "You can send that hat to PalliserGardens--9, Palliser Gardens," she said to the attendant. "Nina, enterin your account-book twelve shillings and eleven-pence three farthingsfor Fanchon's hat."
"I want one like it!" cried Josie.
"Oh--I'm sure Nina won't allow that!" exclaimed Brenda.
"_I_ don't care!" said Nina.
In the end each girl had a similar hat, and Nina had to enter theamounts in her horrible little book. The hats were fairly pretty, butwere really not meant for little girls with their hair worn in pigtails.But the only thing Brenda cared about was the fact that a considerablesum of Mr Amberley's money was got rid of.
"Now," she said, "we'll consider the dresses." And the dresses wereconsidered. They were quite expensive and not pretty. There were alsoseveral other things purchased, and Nina grew quite thin with hercalculations. All these things happened during the first days of theirstay at Marshlands-on-the-Sea. But now the toilets were complete.
It was on a scorching and beautiful morning after Brenda, becominglydressed from head to foot in purest white, had taken her little pupilsin check dresses and paper hats down to the seashore, had bathed thereand swum most beautifully, to the delight of those who looked on, andhad returned again in time for the mid-day meal, that she foundPenelope's letter awaiting her. It was laid by her plate on the dinnertable. She opened it with her usual airy grace and then exclaimed--hereyes sparkling with excitement and delight:
"I say, girls--here's a treat! Our dear friends, the Beverleys, haveinvited us all to spend to-morrow at the Castle. We must accept, ofcourse, and must drive out. Mrs Dawson,"--here she turned to the ladywho kept the boarding-house--"can you tell me what a drive will be fromhere to Castle Beverley?"
"Five shillings at the very least," replied Mrs Dawson.
She spoke in an awe-struck voice. There were no people so respected inthe neighbourhood as the Beverleys, and Mrs Dawson--a well-meaning andsensible woman--did not believe it possible that any guest of hers couldknow them.
"Really, Miss Carlton," she said, "I am highly flattered to think that ayoung lady who stays here in my humble house--no offence, ladies, I amsure--but in my modest and inexpensive habitation, should know theBeverleys of Castle Beverley."
"We don't know them!" here called out Josie.
Brenda gave Josie a frown which augured ill for that young lady'spleasure during the rest of the day. She paused for a minute, and thensaid modestly:
"It so happens that my dear sister is a special friend of the eldestMiss Beverley. They are at the same school. My sister is staying atthe Castle at present, and I have had a letter inviting me to go therefor to-morrow. It will be a very great pleasure."
"Very great, indeed,"--replied Mrs Dawson--"a most distinguished thingto do. We shall all be interested to hear your experiences when youreturn in the evening, dear Miss Carlton. Hand Miss Carlton the peas,"continued the good woman, addressing the flushed and towsled parlourmaid.
Brenda helped herself delicately to a few of these dainties and thencontinued:
"Yes, we shall enjoy
it; my dear sister's friends are very select. Inaturally expected to go to Castle Beverley when I heard she was there;but I didn't know that the Beverleys would be so good-natured as toextend their invitations to these dear children. Even the littleaccountant, Nina, is invited. Nina, you'll be sure to take your bookwith you, dear, for you might make some little private notes with regardto the possible expense of housekeeping at Castle Beverley while you arethere. You, dear, must be like the busy bee; you must improve eachshining hour--eh, Nina? eh, my little arithmetician?"
"I am _not_ your arithmetician; and I--I hate you!" said Nina.
These remarks were regarded by the other ladies present as simply thoseof a naughty child in a temper.
"Oh, fie, Miss Nina!" said a certain Miss Rachael Price. "You shouldnot show those naughty little tempers. You should say, when you feelyour angry passions rising, `Down, down, little temper; down, down!' Ihave always done that, and I assure you it is most soothing in itseffects."
"But you wouldn't if you were me," said Nina, who was past all prudenceat that instant. "If you had an odious--odious!" here she burst outcrying and fled from the room.
"Poor child! What can be the matter with her?" said a fat matron whobore the name of Simpkins, and had several children under nine years ofage in the house. "Aren't you a little severe on her, Miss Carlton?Strikes me she don't love 'rithmetic--as my Georgie calls it--so much asyou seem to imagine."
Brenda laughed.
"I am teaching my dear little pupil a lesson," she said. "That is all.I have a unique way of doing it, but it will be for her good in theend."
Soon afterwards, the young lady and her two remaining pupils left thedinner table and went up to their shabby bedroom, which they all sharedtogether at the top of the house. Nina was lying on her own bed withher face turned to the wall. The moment Brenda came in she sat up and,taking the account-book, flung it in the face of her governess.
"There! you horrid, odious thing!" she said. "I will never put downanother account--never--as long as I live! There--I won't, I won't, andyou can't make me!"
"I am afraid, most dear child," said Brenda, "I should not feel safeotherwise. I might be accused of dishonesty by my clever little Ninawhen I return to the dear old rectory and to the presence of yoursweetest papa. But come, now--let's be sensible; let's enjoy ourselves.We will drive out to Castle Beverley to-morrow, of that I amdetermined, even though it does cost five shillings. But we'll walkback in the evening--that is, if they don't offer us a carriage; but Ihave a kind of idea that I can even manage their extending their favourto that amount. It is all-important, however, that we should arrivelooking fresh. Now, girls--this is a most important occasion, and howare we to be dressed?"
Nina said that she didn't know and she didn't care. But Josie andFanchon were immensely interested.
"There are your muslin hats," said Brenda--"quite fresh and mostsuitable; and your little blue check dresses. The check is very small,and they really look most neat. They're not cotton, either--they're`delaine.' Dearest papa will be delighted with them, won't he? He'llbe quite puzzled how to classify them, but I think we can teach him.You three dressed all alike _will_ look _sweet_, and you may be thankfulto your dear Brenda for not allowing you to racket through your clothesbeforehand. Well, that is settled. You will look a very sweet littletrio, and if Nina is good, and runs up to her own Brenda now, and kissesher, she needn't take the account-book to Castle Beverley. Just for oneday, she may resign her office as chartered accountant to this _yere_company."
Brenda made her joke with a merry laugh and showed all her pearly teeth.
"Come, Nina," said Josie, who was in high good humour, "you must kissBrenda; you were horribly rude to her."
"Oh, I forgive her--poor little thing," said Brenda. "Little girlsdon't like the rod, do they? but sometimes they have to bear it, haven'tthey? Now then, you little thing, cheer up, and make friends. I havefound a delightful shop where we can have tea, bread and butter andshrimps, and afterwards we'll sit on the beach--it's great fun, sittingon the beach--and we'll see nearly all the fashionable folks."
The thought of shrimps and bread and butter for tea was too much forNina's greedy little soul. She did condescend to get off the hot bedand kiss Brenda, who for her part was quite delightful, for the timebeing. She even took the account-book and pencil, and said that theyshould not be seen again until the day after to-morrow. Then she washedNina's flushed face, and made her wear the objectionable pink muslinwith the folds across the bottom in lieu of flounces, and that littlestraw hat, which cost exactly one-and-sixpence, including its trimming.
Afterwards, they all went down on the beach, and presently they had tea.Then, in good time, they came back to supper, and after that, thedelightful period of the day began for Fanchon, and the trying one forher two sisters--for Fanchon was now regularly established as Brenda'scompanion when she went out to enjoy herself after supper, and the twoyounger girls, notwithstanding all their tears and protestations, wereordered off to bed. It was odious to go to bed on these hot, longevenings, but Brenda was most specious in her arguments, and Mrs Dawsonand Miss Price and Mrs Simpkins all agreed with the governess--thatthere was nothing for young folks like early bed. Mrs Simpkins evenrepeated that odious proverb for Nina's benefit, "Early to bed and earlyto rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." In short, Brenda hadbroken in her pupils to her own satisfaction; and when she had seen theminto their "nighties"--as she called those garments,--she and Fanchon,dressed in their very best, went out on pleasure intent.
It was a pretty sight to see the elegant-looking young governess and hersomewhat _gauche_ pupil wander down to that part of the pier where theband played; and it was truly edifying to perceive how Fanchon anxiouslycopied Brenda on these occasions. She imitated her step, her walk, herhand-shake--which was of the truly fashionable kind, stiff, and risinghigh in the air. Fanchon's heart beat with pleasure when she perceivedhow very much Brenda was admired, and, as Brenda could do anything withher pupil by means of flattery, the young lady was by no means unhappyabout herself. On this special night--the night before the visit toBeverley Castle--Fanchon felt even more delighted than usual, for shewas allowed, at the last moment, in the close little hall of theboarding-house, to slip the precious, the most precious bangle on hersunburnt wrist.
"I always said you should wear it," said Brenda, "and you shallto-night."
Fanchon fairly trembled with happiness.
"It feels delightful," she said. "It's like a tonic, which gives metone. I don't think I should be afraid of anything if I could alwayswear this."
"Some day you shall, if you remain faithful to your own Brenda."
"You know, Brenda, I would do anything for you."
"Well, it seems like it at present," said Brenda, "but of course I haveto think of the past. You were not so absolutely perfect on a certainoccasion not very long ago, were you, dearie?"
Fanchon coloured.
"Don't let's think of that now," she said. "If ever any one wasunjustly suspected, you were that person, Brenda. Oh, how Nina hatesherself for what she did! But aren't you rather over-punishing the poorlittle thing?"
"I shall cease to punish her in a few days, but she must learn a lesson.Now then--I should not be the least surprised if Harry Jordan was atthe band to-night. You know we saw him to-day, but we couldn't takemuch notice with the other girls about. I have begged of him never tospeak to me when Josie and Nina are present, for I can't tell what achild like Nina may be up to. But I rather fancy he'll be here on thepromenade this evening, and I asked him to bring a friend for you totalk to, Fanchon; you don't mind, do you?"
"A friend!" cried Fanchon. "Oh--I hope you don't mean a man! I'd beterrified out of my seven senses even to address a word to a man."
"Dear Fanchon," said Brenda, "you'll soon get over that. Well, here weare--and I do declare if that isn't Harry himself coming to meet us,and--yes--he's brought a very nice youth with him. Now, Fa
nchon, youwill have a pleasant time too. Not a word, _ever_, to your sisters, orto dearest papa!"
"Oh, trust me," said Fanchon, holding her head high, and feeling thatshe must survive the dreadful ordeal of talking to a man, whatever hersensations.
Now Harry Jordan happened to be a sleek, fat youth of about twenty yearsof age. He was well off, in fact he was doing a thriving trade in thedraper's business, but in a distant town. Brenda had not the least ideawhat his business was. He told her vaguely that he was in business, andshe pictured him to herself as a merchant prince, and who in all theworld could be more honourable than one of the merchant princes ofEngland? But, be that as it may, she enjoyed Harry Jordan's admiration,and if he were to like her well enough to ask her to marry him, why--shewould probably say yes, for it would be infinitely better than remainingas governess at thirty pounds a year to Mr Amberley's little daughters.Now, Harry was a youth who enjoyed a flirtation as much as anybody, andas Brenda had hinted that they could not be perfectly free and happy ifFanchon was listening, he brought a friend of his along--a certain JoeBurbery--to engage the attentions of that young lady. Accordingly, thefour met, and Joe Burbery, a most sickly youth of seventeen, wasintroduced to both ladies,
