by L. T. Meade
air. Having fed my patient, I proceeded to comb out her beautifulcurly dark hair. I then washed her face and hands, and made the bedover again with the clean sheets.
When the landlady brought up the fowl nicely done to a turn, we wereboth ready for it. The good food, the care, the cheerful light, thepurer atmosphere had already done wonders for Hetty. She lost thenervous, frightened manner which at first had made it almost distressingto speak to her. Her eyes shone; the colour dawned faintly in her whitecheeks, and when I fed her with tender bits of chicken, she even smiledup into my face with a world of love and gratitude in her eyes.
"You are good to me, miss," she whispered.
"You must not call me miss, my name is Rosamund. I am your husband'ssister."
But this allusion made her blush painfully, and she drew once more intoher shell.
When Hetty and I had finished our chicken, I set what was left carefullyaway, and putting out one of the candles sat down by the bedside, andtold my new sister that she must go to sleep.
"But you, miss?--oh! I beg your pardon,"--she stopped, confusion in hertone.
"Never mind," I said, soothingly. I saw this was not the time tocommence her education. "Go to sleep," I said, and bending forward Itouched her forehead lightly with my lips. Her eyes looked full backinto mine. I had never seen such a wealth of love in any eyes. Thelids fell languidly over them. She obeyed me with a happy, satisfiedsigh.
CHAPTER FIVE.
LADY URSULA.
Hetty slept fairly well. I sat broad awake by her bedside. I was tooyoung, too fresh, too strong to be exhausted by this evening'sexcitement and hurry. I was not tired enough to drop asleep in the hardchair by my sister's bedside. My pulses were beating high. I sat allthrough the long night, excited, anxious, full of a thousand forebodingsand troubles. I gave my patient Brand's jelly and grapes when she wokein the night, and early in the morning I boiled an egg, made some crisptoast, and a teapot of fragrant tea, and gave Hetty her breakfast.Afterwards I washed and dressed her; I combed out her hair, and tied itinto a soft mass. I straightened the bed, and made it look as tidy assuch a miserable bed could be, and then putting some grapes withinreach, and the flowers on a little table, where she could look at them,I ran down-stairs to interview the landlady.
"I am glad to tell you," I said, "that my sister seems much better thismorning."
"Oh, ay, miss, I'm sure I'm pleased to hear it." The landlady was allbeams and curtsies. "I always said, pore dear, that it was care shewanted--and all I could I give her, as Mr Gray can testify; but when awoman has got to 'arn her living 'ard, she has no power to spend muchtime a-cookin', and a-cleanin', and a-nursin', and a-messin'. It'salways a-nursin' and a-messin' with the sick, and I han't got the time,so I'm glad you has come in, miss."
"Yes, but I must go away for some hours," I said, "and I want my sisterto be taken all possible care of in my absence. Will you do that forme, Mrs Ashton? I will come back as early in the afternoon as I can."
"To be sure I will, my dear."
"Here is a piece of paper on which I have written what she is to eat,and how often she is to be fed."
"Well, dear, I'll do my 'umble best. I'm not good at readin' andwritin', but Mary Ann in the kitchen can spell out what you has writdown, miss, I make no doubt."
I left the paper in Mrs Ashton's hands, and went back again to Hetty.
"Hetty," I said, "I must go away for a few hours. Mrs Ashton will takeall possible care of you." I stopped, distressed by the piteous,helpless expression on her face.
"Mrs Ashton doesn't take any care of me," said Hetty. "She leaves meall day long, and never, never comes near the room. Yesterday the firewent out, and I got so hungry, so dreadfully hungry. Then the hungerwent off, and I felt only cold and very faint. I thought perhaps I wasdying. Don't leave me with Mrs Ashton, miss."
"You must call me Rosamund, Hetty. Now listen. Don't tremble, dear. Iam obliged to leave you. I have a mother and father, and--and--brothers. Your Jack is one of my brothers. I will come back again assoon as ever I can; and when I come I shall probably bring you a messagefrom Jack."
"Won't Jack come to see me himself to-day?"
"I'm afraid not. Jack does not forget you, Hetty, but the fact is, heis ill. He has a bad headache, and has to be nursed."
"Oh," she said gently, and without any of the alarm I had anticipated."Sometimes his head aches fearfully, I know; I have seen it. I have satup all night nursing his headache. Who is taking care of him now?"
"His mother and mine, the tenderest and best of human beings."
I felt a break in my voice as I said this. I knew my mother was nolonger first in Jack's affections. I felt an unreasonable andridiculous sense of jealousy on my mother's account.
"Good-bye, Hetty," I said hastily; "I will bring you news of Jack; andtry and believe one thing--the Mrs Ashton of yesterday and the MrsAshton of to-day are two distinctly different people. You will be takencare of, my dear, and remember I expect to see you looking quite brightand well this evening."
Then I ran down-stairs and out of the house. It was still too early togo to Madame Leroy's, but the comfortable chink of gold in my purseenabled me to spend my time profitably. I laid in fresh provisions bothfor Hetty and for Jack. At twelve o'clock exactly I arrived at MadameLeroy's. To my surprise Susan herself opened the door for me. I thinkshe must have been waiting on the mat inside, for the moment I rang, thedoor was pulled open, and Susan said breathlessly:
"Oh, come in, Miss Rosamund, come up-stairs."
"Where is my ring, Susan?" I said, resisting her impetuous push. "Giveme back my ring at once and let me go. I have really a great deal todo, and have not time to wait to chat with you."
"It isn't me, miss, as wants to keep you, it's Madame Leroy herself."
"Madame Leroy? What _do_ you mean?"
"And I haven't got the ring, miss. When I asked Madagie for it thismorning, she said, `When the young person calls, show her up to myprivate room at once.' She said `young person,' miss, meaning nooffence, but the moment she claps her eyes on you she'll know you are alady born."
"I don't care what she calls me, Susan; if I must see her, I must, Isuppose. Show me to her room at once."
Susan ran on before me, past the first floor, and the second, and on tothe third floor of the great house; where she paused, and knockeddeliberately at a certain door which wanted paint, and was altogethervery shabby.
"Come in," said a voice, and I found myself in the presence of MadameLeroy.
I suppose this great _artiste_, as she would term herself, had a certainfigure, manner, eye, tone which were capable of not only inspiring awe,but of tickling vanity, of whetting desire, of ministering to theweakest passions of the silliest of her sex. I may as well own at oncethat her arts were thrown away on me.
She was a handsome dark-eyed woman, full in figure, tall in stature, andwith what would be called a commanding presence. I was only a slip of agirl, badly dressed, and with no presence whatever. Nevertheless, Icould not fear the fashionable and pompous being.
"Will you kindly return me my ring, Madame Leroy?" I said brusquely.
Madame favoured me with a sweeping curtsey.
"I presume I am addressing Miss Lindley?" she said. "Pray take a seat,Miss Lindley--I am pleased to make your acquaintance."
The moment she spoke I perceived that she was not French. She was anEnglish or an Irish woman, probably the latter. Her name was doubtlessan assumed one. I did not take the chair she proffered me.
"I have come for my ring," I said, in a voice which I really managed tomake very firm and business-like. "I brought it to you last night, andyou very kindly paid me five pounds for the loan of it. I want it backnow. Your servant said that if I called at twelve o'clock I should havethe ring back."
"I wish you would take a chair, Miss Lindley; I want particularly tospeak to you about the ring. I am pleased to be able to impart to yousome good news. I--" Madame Leroy p
aused, and slightly smacked herlips. "I have found a purchaser for your ruby ring, Miss Lindley."
I felt my cheeks turning very red.
"You are kind," I replied; "I dare say you mean to be good to me whenyou say you have a purchaser for the ring. But I don't want to sellit."
"Not want to sell it!" Madame Leroy looked me all over from the crownof my hat to the tips of my shabby boots. Then putting on her pince-nezshe scrutinised my face. I knew perfectly well the thoughts that werefilling her mind. She was saying to herself:--"You are a poor specimenof
