by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER XXIII.
AT SCHOOL AGAIN.
It is a curious fact that there are some weak but loving people who arenot loved in return. If they are sincere and honest they always inspirerespect. If they are at the same time unselfish, that noble quality mustalso tell in the long run. But to look at them is not to love them, andconsequently they go through life with a terrible heart-longing unknownto their fellow-men, only known to the God above, who will doubtlessreward these simple and earnest and remarkably beautiful souls in Hisown good time in another world.
Such a person was Emily Frost. She was very patient, very brave, veryunselfish; but no one particularly cared for her. She knew this quitewell; she had a passionate hunger for love, but it was not bestowed uponher. She was well educated and could teach splendidly, but she couldnever arouse enthusiasm in her pupils. A far less highly educated womancould do twice the amount poor Miss Frost could ever achieve, simplybecause she possessed the gift denied to the latter.
Now, Agnes Frost was much of the same temperament as her half-sister.She also was timid, easily frightened, very easily subdued, butsympathetic, loving, and unselfish. Agnes, however, had the great powerof inspiring love in all those with whom she came in contact. Miss Frostherself worshiped that little delicate and beautiful face, those sweetlips, that tender and dainty form. She felt she could almost die for thechild. But the child, although she loved her half-sister, did not loveher in the passionate way that Miss Frost desired. Irene was the firstperson to whom Agnes had given all her strong powers of affection. ForIrene she would have done anything. She did not care nearly so much forRosamund, although she admired her, and Rosamund herself was drawn tothe child and attracted by her. Agnes had been perfectly happy while atThe Follies; never a fear had she of the much-dreaded Irene. It is trueshe had not heard the dreadful stories of the toads and wasps andleeches; but whether she heard them or not, it would be difficult now toremove her affection from the girl who adored her, and whom she inreturn so worshiped.
Miss Frost looked on, tried to be satisfied, tried to believe thatRosamund was right when she told her that nothing in all the world couldhappen more advantageously for little Agnes' future; but neverthelessshe carried an unhealed sore at her heart.
This was the state of things when the three girls arrived at theMerrimans'. The house had truly been swept and garnished. The room whereJane had been ill was re-papered and painted, the place lookedspick-and-span and beautiful, and Mrs. Merriman came out with a smilingface to welcome the arrival of the party from The Follies.
"Welcome back, my dear!" she said to Rosamund, kissing heraffectionately, and just as though there had never been any ill-feelingbetween them. "How are you, you dear little thing?" she said, addressingAgnes in that petting tone which almost all women assumed toward her."How do you do?" she said more stiffly to Miss Frost.
Then she turned and addressed Miss Archer, who happened to be not faraway.
"Miss Archer," she said, "this is our new teacher, who will assist youin every possible way. Will you take her to her room now? And Rosamund,you know where to find yours. Irene and Agnes are to sleep in the sameroom, and it is next to yours. You can go upstairs, therefore, all ofyou, and get tidy for supper--at which you will meet the rest of yourschool-fellows, Rosamund."
Rosamund smiled; she had come back from her holidays in Switzerlandfeeling very brave and determined to do what was right. She felt thatshe was a sort of person who had begun a crusade. Her crusade wasagainst the crudities, the cruelties, and naughty conduct of one littlegirl of the name of Irene Ashleigh; but she had little idea how complexwas the task set her, and how difficult it would be even now to performit. Nevertheless, she was feeling courageous and happy for the timebeing; and if Lucy Merriman had not belonged to the school soeffectually and so thoroughly as to make it impossible to have anyschool at all without her, Rosamund might have been perfectly happy atSunnyside. As it was, she knew she would have a hard fight with herselfin the midst of her present surroundings.
Irene took her hand affectionately, guessing little of her thoughts.
"Do come and show us round, Rosamund," she said. "I know Aggie is tired.Aren't you, darling?"
"Oh, no," said Agnes. "I'd like to go out presently and have a walk allalone with you, Irene."
"Then of course you shall, dear."
"But there's no time to-night," said Rosamund. "We have barely time toget our things unpacked and get ready for supper. You know this isschool, and I told you what school meant."
"You did," said Irene, raising her bright, wild eyes to her companion'sface; "but I confess I had forgotten it. This house seems like any otherhouse, only not so handsome. It isn't nearly as big as The Follies, andthe people don't seem so rich; and I have seen fat Mrs. Merriman all mylife driving about with the cob and the governess-cart; and I have seenProfessor Merriman, too, with his bent back and long hair. But I neverchanced to come across Lucy except that time in church, and then Ithought her horrible. Why should I alter my plans because of theMerrimans? I don't intend to do it."
"You must, Irene. You promised me that you would try to be good. Come,look at Agnes."
Agnes was gazing up at her chosen companion, at the girl she loved bestin the world, with wonder in her dark eyes. It was not a reproving lookthose eyes wore; it was a sweet, astonished, and yet slightly painedgaze. It conquered Irene on the spot. She bent down and kissed thelittle one.
"You never thought I should be naughty, did you?" said Irene, loweringher voice.
"You couldn't! you couldn't! You are the best girl in all the world,"whispered Agnes.
"Then I will make a tremendous effort to be good for your sake."
These words were also said in a whisper, and by this time the girls hadreached their own room, which they were to share together. A door openedinto Rosamund's room, and thus the three who were to be so closelyunited during the greater part of their lives were more or less in thesame apartment.
"It does seem strange not to have dear Jane Denton here," said Rosamund;"but she seems to be still so delicate that she won't come back toschool this term. Now, shall I help you to unpack, Irene? And shall Ihelp you to put on a pretty frock for supper? I want you to look as niceas possible. All the girls are just dying to see you."
At that moment there came a knock at Rosamund's door. Rosamund flew toopen it. Laura Everett stood without.
"So you have come back, Rosamund! How glad I am to see you! May I comein?"
"If you don't mind, not for a few minutes," said Rosamund. "May I have achat with you after supper, or one day after lessons?"
"Of course to-night. We can walk about in the corridors if it is toocold to go out-of-doors. But is it absolutely true--I only heard it as awhisper--that you have brought Irene Ashleigh, the terror of theneighborhood, here?"
"She will be a terror no longer if you will all be kind to her," saidRosamund. "I have a great deal to say to you; but don't keep me now. Shehas come, and so has dear little Agnes Frost, and--oh! do ask the othergirls to be kind, and not to take any special notice. You will, won'tyou?"
"I'm sure I'd do anything for you," said Laura. "I think you weresplendid all through. I cannot tell you how I have admired you, and howI spoke to mother about you in the holidays; and mother said that thoughyou had not done exactly right, yet you were the finest girl she hadever heard of or come across, and she was very glad to think that youand I might be in a sort of way friends."
"Well, let us be real friends," said Rosamund affectionately. "Now,don't keep me any longer. I have as much as I can do to get my coupleready to make a respectable appearance at supper."
Laura ran off to inform her school-fellows that the noted, the terribleIrene was in very truth a pupil at Mrs. Merriman's school. The girls, ofcourse, had heard that Irene was coming, and that Rosamund had beenforgiven, and, notwithstanding her disobedience, was returning to theschool. But although they believed the latter part of thisintelligence, they doubted the former, thinking it quit
e impossible thatany sane people would admit such a character as Irene into their midst.But when Laura came downstairs and told her news, the girls looked upwith more or less interest in their faces.
Annie Millar, who was Laura's special friend, said that she was glad.
"She needn't suppose that I'll be afraid of her," said Annie.
"And she needn't think that I'll be afraid of her," said Phyllis Flower."She may try her toads and her wasps if she likes on me; but she won'tfind they have much effect."
"Oh, do stop talking!" said Laura. "Can't you understand that if Ireneis to be a good girl we must not bring things of that sort up to her? Ibelieve she will be good, and I think Rosamund is just splendid. Yes,Lucy, what did you say?"
Now, Lucy had up to the present been one of Laura's great friends. Theirmothers had been friends in the old days, and the clever, bright,intelligent Laura suited Lucy to perfection. But Lucy had imbibed allthe traditions with regard to the willful Irene, and was horrified atthe thought of having her now in the school. She was also angry atRosamund's being reinstated; in short, she was by no means in a goodtemper. She thought herself badly treated that the news of the advent ofthese two young people had been kept from her, and was not speciallymollified when her mother came into the room and told her that herfather wished to speak to her for a minute or two in his study.
The girl ran off without a moment's delay, and entering the study, wentstraight up to the Professor, who, gentle, patient as of old, laid hishand on her shoulder.
"Well, Lucy," he said, "and so school begins, and the old things resumetheir sway."
"I don't think they do," retorted Lucy. "It seems to me that they aregiving place to new. Why is it, father, that a girl whom you expelledhas come back again to our dear little select, very private school? Andwhy has she brought the very naughtiest girl in the whole neighborhoodto be her companion?"
"I can only tell you this in reply, Lucy: Rosamund, although she wasnaughty, was also noble."
"That is impossible," said Lucy, with a toss of her head.
"It is difficult for you to understand; but it is the case. She wasactuated by a brave motive, and has done a splendid work. I confess Iwas very angry with her at the time; but dear Mr. Singleton--such aChrist-like man as he is--opened my eyes, and told me what a marvelouseffect Rosamund was having on little Irene Ashleigh, whom every one wasafraid of, and who was in consequence being absolutely ruined. It was atSingleton's request that I reinstated Rosamund in the school, and it wasfurther at his request and that of Lady Jane Ashleigh that I decided notto part the two girls, but to allow them to come here for at least aterm. So Rosamund and Irene are both members of the school, and I desireyou, Lucy, as my daughter, not to repeat to any of your fellow-pupilsthe stories you may have heard in the past with regard to Irene. Idesire you to be kind to her, and if you cannot be friends with her, atleast to leave her alone. You have your own friends, Laura Everett"----
"Oh, Laura has already gone over to the enemy," said Lucy. "Why, she wastalking and preaching as hard as ever she could just now, when mothercame in and said that you wanted me."
"Well, my dear, I did want to speak to you. I wanted to say just what Ihave said. You will attend to my instructions. You understand?"
"I understand, father," said Lucy; and she left the study with her fairhead slightly bent.
There was a puzzled expression on her face. What was the meaning of itall? Never in her life, which would soon extend to sixteen years, hadLucy Merriman consciously done a wrong action. She had always beenobedient to her parents; she had always been careful and prim, and, asshe considered, thoughtful for others. She adored her father and mother.She herself had been willing to sacrifice her position as a happy onlygirl to become a member of the school, just to help her father out ofhis difficulties, and to enable his health to be restored, and now shewas reprimanded because she could not see that wrong was right. What wasthe matter with Rosamund? Who could consider her conduct in any otherbut the one way? And yet here was Mr. Singleton inducing her father tooverlook her fault.
"I felt dissatisfied when father expelled her," thought the girl. "Butnow he has taken her back again; and that awful ogre, that terror, hascome here. What does it all mean? It's enough to turn a good girlnaughty; that's all I've got to say."
There was a pretty sort of winter parlor where the girls always waiteduntil the meals were served. Lucy re-entered it now, and found most ofher companions waiting for her. She was scarcely there a moment beforethe gong sounded, and at the same instant Rosamund, followed by Irene,who was holding little Agnes's hand, entered the room.
Now, report had said a great deal in disfavor of Irene Ashleigh. She wasthe queer girl who wore the unkempt red dress, who did the strangest,wildest, maddest things, who terrified her governesses, who was cruel tothe servants, who made her mother's life one long misery. But reporthad never mentioned that there was a charm in her wild face, in thosespeaking eyes; and that the same little figure clothed in the simplest,prettiest white could look almost angelic. No, angelic was hardly theword. Perhaps charming suited her better. Beyond doubt she wasbeautiful, with a willowy, wild grace which could not but arrestattention, and all the other girls immediately owned to a sense ofinferiority in her presence. But Irene was so endowed with nature'sgrace that she could not do an awkward thing; and then the child whoaccompanied her, the small unimportant child, was as beautiful in herway as Irene was in hers. So charming a pair did they make, those two,each of them dressed in the purest white, that Rosamund, who wasconsidered quite the handsomest girl in the school, seemed to sink intocommonplace in comparison. But no one had time to make any remark.
Irene said lightly, "Oh, so you are the others!" and then nodded to oneand all; and turning to Agnes, she said in a low tone, "These are therest of the girls, Aggie; and I'm ever so hungry. Aren't you, Aggie?"
Mrs. Merriman came in and conducted her young group to the room wheresupper was laid out, and here the first cross occurred to disturbIrene's good temper; for Agnes was placed at the other side of thetable, between Phyllis Flower and Agnes Sparkes. Agnes Sparkes wasbending toward her and talking in her lively way. She was remarking onthe similarity of their names, and little Agnes was looking up at herolder companion and smiling back, not at all frightened; for, as shesaid to herself, people were so kind to her.
Miss Frost, anxious, pale, and miserable, was watching her treasure asshe gave a little bit of her heart, at least, first to one girl and thento another, and poor Miss Frost's face looked anything but inviting.Her nose was red, her cheeks pinched and hollow, her eyes somewhat dim.She felt inclined to cry.
Rosamund, however, boldly asked Laura Everett to change places with her,and sat next to Irene.
"Why have they taken Agnes away?" said Irene. "I don't like it. I have agreat mind to walk round the table and to snatch her away from those twohorrid creatures at the other end, and to bring her to us. Why shouldn'tshe sit between us? I know she wishes it, poor little darling!"
"We had better leave her alone for the present, Irene; supper won't takelong. Don't take any notice. I'll ask Mrs. Merriman to let Agnes sitnext to you in future; but don't make a fuss now."
"I hate being good. I don't think I can stand it," said Irene in a mostrebellious tone. And then she scowled at Miss Frost in quite her oldferocious way, so that the governess looked more anxious and unhappythan ever. But this was nothing to the scowl she presently gave LucyMerriman. She fixed her bright eyes on Lucy's face, and not only a frowncame between her brows, but the frown was succeeded by a mocking laugh,and then she said in a low tone, which yet was clear as a bell, "I sawyou in church one Sunday, and you frightened me so much that I had to goout."
This remark was so strange and unexpected that most of the girls gaveutterance to a nervous laugh; but Professor Merriman raised his voice.
"Irene," he said, "that is not at all a polite thing to say. I must havea little talk with you when supper is over, for you are not to sayunkind things to yo
ur neighbors, or of them, as long as you are in myhouse."
The firmness of his voice and the dignity of his bearing had a slighteffect on Irene. Rosamund began to talk rapidly to her on differentsubjects, and by and by the meal came to an end.
That evening nothing very extraordinary occurred; but Irene, withoutwaiting for any one, rushed down to the room and seized little Agnes'shand.
"Come, Agnes," she said, "it is time for you to go to bed."
"I am the person who has charge of putting the little ones to bed," saidMiss Frost, going up and speaking in a trembling tone.
"You may put all the other little ones to bed, as far as I amconcerned," said Irene; "but you don't put my Agnes to bed."
"But she is my Agnes, too."
"No; she is mine. Agnes, say at once that you belong altogether to me;that you are my darling, my doll, my baby."
"I do love you," said little Agnes; "but of course I love Emily,too--dear old Emily!"
She laid her hand on her elder sister's arm and looked up affectionatelyinto her face.
"I thought, Irene, I said I wished to speak to you," remarked theProfessor then; and before Irene could reply he had taken her hand andled her into the study.
He made her sit down, and seated himself opposite to her.
"Now, my dear," he said, "you are going to be under my roof for a fewweeks. The term as a rule lasts about twelve weeks--that is, threemonths."
"An eternity--impossible to live through it," said Irene.
"I hope you may not find it an eternity; but, anyhow, it is arrangedthat you are to stay here, and during that time you must be subjected tothe rules of discipline."
"What is discipline?" said Irene.
"One of the rules of discipline is to obey those put in command ofyou."
"In command of me? But there is no one in command of me!"
"I am in command of you, and so is my wife, and so are your threegovernesses."
"And what do you mean to do now that you are in command of me?"
"I, for one, hope to help you, Irene, to be a good girl."
"I think," said Irene steadily, "that I'd rather be a naughty girl. WhenI was at The Follies I used to do what dear Rosamund wished; and thensweet little Agnes came, and she loved me, and I loved her and did kindthings for her, and I felt ever so much better; but I am not at allbetter at your horrid school."
"Did any one ever happen to punish you, Irene?"
"Punish me?" said Irene, opening her eyes.
"Yes, punish you."
"Well, no. I don't think anybody would try to do it a second time."
"I don't wish to punish you, my dear child." The Professor rose and tookone of Irene's little hands. "I want to help you, dear--to help you withall my might and main. I know you are different from other girls."
"Yes," said Irene, speaking in her old wild strain; "I am a changeling.That's what I am."
"Nevertheless, dear--we won't discuss that--you have a soul within youwhich can be touched, influenced. All I ask of you is to obey certainrules. One of them is that you do not say unkind things about yourfellow-pupils. Now, you spoke very unkindly to my daughter at supperto-night."
"I don't like her," said Irene bluntly.
"But that doesn't alter the fact that she is my daughter and one of yourschool-fellows."
"Well, I can't like her if I can't. You don't want me to be dishonestand tell lies, do you?"
"No, but I want you to be courteous; and ill-feelings are always wrong,and can be mastered if we apply ourselves in the right spirit. I must,therefore, tell you, Irene, that the next time I hear you speak, or itis reported to me that you speak, unkindly of any of yourschool-fellows, and if you perform any naughty, cowardly, childishtricks, you will have to come to me, and--I don't quite know what Ishall be obliged to do, but I shall have a talk with you, my dear. Now,that is enough for the present."
"Thank you," said Irene, turning very red, and immediately leaving theroom.
The Professor sighed when she had gone.
"How are we ever to manage her?" he said to himself.
In truth, he had not the least idea. Irene was not the sort of girl whocould be easily softened, even by a nature as gentle and kind andpatient as his. She required firm measures. Nevertheless, he had made adeeper impression than he had any idea of; and when the little girl wentup to her room presently, and saw that Agnes was in bed, but wide awakeand waiting ready to fling her arms tightly round her companion's neck,some of the sore feeling left her heart.
"Oh, Aggie, I have you! and you will never, never love that other horridAgnes, or that dreadful Phyllis, or that hateful Lucy, or any of thegirls in the school as you love me."
"Oh, indeed, I never could, Irene--I never could!" said little Agnes."But you don't mind Em putting me to bed, do you, for it makes her sohappy? Her hands were quite trembling with joy, and she said she had notbeen so happy for a long time."
"Well, she is your sister, and she's a good old sort. But, Agnes, howare we to live in this school? Tell me, can you endure it?"
"I was at another school, and this one seems perfectly beautiful," saidlittle Agnes. "I think all the girls are quite nice."
"You had better not begin to praise them overmuch, or I shall bejealous."
"What is being jealous?" said the little girl.
"Why, just furious because somebody cares for you, or even pretends tocare for you. I don't want anybody to love you but myself."
"I don't think I should quite like that," said little Agnes. "Though Ihave promised to love you best, I should like others to be kind to me."
"There you are, with your sweet little eyes full of tears, and I havecaused them! But I'm dead-tired myself. Anyhow, it will only last fortwelve weeks--truly an eternity, but an eternity which has an end. Shallwe sleep in one bed to-night, Agnes? I won't be a moment undressing.Will you come and cuddle close to me, and let me put my arms round youand feel that you are my own little darling?"
"Yes, indeed, I should love it!" said little Agnes.
