Red Rose and Tiger Lily; Or, In a Wider World by L. T. Meade (chrysanthemum read aloud .TXT) 📕

she had also stupidly left behind her. How provoking! She had really nothing she could sell for thirty shillings. But stay, she had forgotten. She coloured high as a memory came to her. She had one article of solid value—a ring. In one sense it was not hers; in another it was. It was a gold ring, with a single diamond; this ring had belonged to Annie Forest's mother. On her dying bed she had given the ring to Mrs. Willis. One day Mrs. Willis had shown it to Annie, had yielded to Annie's entreaties that she might borrow it for this visit to the Grange, and had told her that, although she could not part with her mother's last gift during her lifetime, she would leave the ring to Annie in her will.

With her dark eyes full of excitement, Annie now took the ring out of its little morocco case and looked at it.

She had meant to wear it proudly on her finger during her stay at the Grange; but, in the excitement of passing events, had forgotten to do so up to the present time. The ring was of value; no one had seen it on her finger, therefore no one would miss it. It occurred to Annie that she might ask a jeweller to lend her thirty shillings on the ring. With this thirty shillings she could buy the stuff for Nora's frocks; and as her father always sent her a pound on her birthday, and that birthday was only a little over a month away, she thought that she might manage to [Pg 92]scrape together thirty shillings to redeem the ring before she returned to school.

Annie's mind was quickly made up. She would pawn the ring to someone, and trust to her lucky star to get it back before she returned to Lavender House. She knew well that Mrs. Willis would ask her for it as soon as ever she went back to school. Mrs. Willis was a person who never forgot: big things and small things alike found a place in her memory; but long before then Annie would, of course, have the ring in her possession.

Having made up her mind to sell it, she wondered how she could accomplish this feat. She would have not only to sell the ring, but also to buy the cambric and embroidery without anyone knowing anything about it. The secret would lose half its fascination if anybody guessed. Annie thought anxiously for a moment, then an idea came to her. Nan had talked a good deal about her old nurse. Annie was a prime favourite with nurse, who always considered that she owed Annie a good deal for having rescued her darling from the gipsies some years ago. Perhaps nurse would help Annie now; she resolved to go and sound the old woman.

Putting the ring in its morocco case, she opened the baize door which led to the nursery part of the house, and soon found herself in Mrs. Martin's apartments. Mrs. Martin was known by three different appellations: to Hester she was nurse, or nursey, to Sir John Thornton she was Patty, but to the servants and to strangers she was always spoken of as Mrs. Martin. She was extremely punctilious as to the manner in which she was addressed; and now, as Annie entered her room [Pg 93]she wondered which of her three titles would best propitiate her.

"Well, my dear, what do you want?" said the old lady, looking up with a pleased smile from her knitting as Annie's pretty head was pushed roguishly round the door. "Oh, come now, Miss Forest; I know your collogueing ways. But you ought to be in bed, my dear, for it's past ten o'clock."

"And so ought you to be in bed, you dear, naughty, old thing," said Annie; "but you know people don't always do what they ought. If going to bed is what I ought to do at the present moment, you ought to do the same, nursey. May I call you nursey?"

"Well, Miss Annie, you're almost like one of the family; but still I'm properly only nurse to my own two bairns—Miss Hetty and Miss Nan."

"And this is a motherless bairn who would like you to be nursey to her," said Annie, seating herself on a low hassock at the old woman's feet and looking into her face.

"Well, and nursey it shall be," said Mrs. Martin. "Eh, but God has given you a very bonny face, my love."

Annie took up one of the horny hands, and rubbed it affectionately against her soft cheek.

"Nurse," she said, "I am quite in trouble. I wonder if I might tell you a secret?"

"Well, dear, if you like to trust me, safe it shall be. Inviolate it shall be kept, Miss Annie, and you know that violet's the colour of truth."

"Of course I do, you dear old thing. What a wonderful comfort it is to talk to you. I knew you'd let me confide in you, and it will be such a load off my mind."

[Pg 94]

"My dear, I hope you haven't been at any mad pranks. The young ladies of the present day are wonderful for audaciousness."

Annie sighed.

"I wish I wasn't audacious," she said; "and I wish I wasn't thoughtless and reckless. I'm always meaning to be kind to people, and somehow or other I'm always kind in the wrong way; it's very, very trying."

Annie's pretty eyes filled with real tears of contrition.

"You're but young, my bairn," said Mrs. Martin, "and the heart's in the right place; anyone can see that who looks at you, Miss Annie."

"Nurse, you are a comfort to me. Now I will tell you my trouble. At the picnic the other day I got into a state of mind because little Boris Lorrimer had not come, and I confided in Kitty Lorrimer and went off to fetch him, and Kitty promised she would not tell where I had gone until I had brought him back; but when I got to the Towers I was very hot—very, very hot with my long walk, and I found that Boris did not wish to come back with me, and I forgot all about my promise to Kitty, and stayed at the Towers for the rest of the day; but poor Kitty kept her word and did not tell, and Nora got cross with her, and climbed up the beech tree after her, and crept out on to the rotten bough, and so got the dreadful fall which has made her so ill. Nora would not have met with this terrible accident but for me; so I have taken upon myself to amuse her, and I promised to make her three dresses."

"Sakes alive! Three?" interrupted Mrs. Martin; [Pg 95]"and why three, Miss Annie? Wouldn't one be enough to content her?"

"No, nursey, no; three cambric dresses or nothing. I promised to make them, and I thought I had the cambric and embroidery in my trunk, but when I looked I found I had left it all behind me at school. You can't think how upset I am about it, for I must keep my promise to Nora, and Nora has got no money, and I have only five shillings, which I must keep for stamps and odds and ends; and I would not ask Hester or Nan to lend me sixpence for the world."

"But why not, my dear? I am sure Miss Hetty would be proud to oblige."

"No, nurse, it must not be," said Annie; "Hester is to know nothing about the frocks, and Nan is to know nothing and Molly is to know nothing. The fun of the thing is its being a great, great secret. Why, the making of those frocks in the room with Nora and only Nora knowing; why, the mystery of the thing will almost cure her, it will, really. Oh, nursey, nursey," patting Mrs. Martin excitedly as she spoke, "you must, you shall help me."

"And you want me to lend you the money, my pet?"

"No; how can you imagine such a thing. But I'll tell you what I want you to do. I want you to get up early to-morrow morning, quite early, and to make one of the grooms drive you into Nortonbury."

"Sakes alive! What for? I'm not used to the air without my breakfast."

"I'll get up and get you your breakfast. I'll boil the kettle here, and make your tea and toast your [Pg 96]bread. You must go to Nortonbury, and you must be back between ten and eleven o'clock."

"And when I go what am I to do there, my dear? Oh, dear, dear, the ways of the young of the present day are masterful beyond belief. You make me all of a quiver, Miss Annie."

"I knew you'd rise to it," said Annie. "I felt if there were a soul in this world who would pull me out of the horrid scrape I have got myself into, it would be you, nursey."

"Well, my love, you have got a blarneying tongue, and no mistake; but now, when I do get to Nortonbury, what am I to do?"

Annie pulled the morocco case out of her pocket. She opened it, and slipped the ring on Mrs. Martin's little finger.

"You are to sell that," she said; "or, rather—no, you are not to sell it for the world—but you are to borrow thirty shillings on it."

"My word! Is it to the pawn-shop you expect me to go, Miss Forest?"

"How nasty of you to say Miss Forest. I'm Annie Forest, in great trouble, and looking to you as my last comfort. You are to borrow thirty shillings on that beautiful diamond ring. I don't mind where you get it; and then you are to buy me seven yards of pink cambric, and seven yards of white cambric, and seven yards of blue cambric. These shades, do you see? And I want embroidery to match. I have put the number of yards on this slip of paper, and a list of buttons and hooks and waistbands and linings. Oh, and, of course, cottons to match. Now, will you or won't you? Will you be an angel or won't you? That's the plain question I have got to ask."

"'YOU ARE TO BORROW THIRTY SHILLINGS ON THAT BEAUTIFUL DIAMOND RING'" (p. 96)

[Pg 97]

"It's the pawn-shop that gets over me, Miss Annie."

"Oh, please don't let it get over you. What can the pawnbroker do to you? Most people call him uncle, so I expect he's awfully good-natured."

"Uncle, indeed," exclaimed Mrs. Martin, tossing her head; "it's a word you shouldn't know, Miss Annie Forest."

"But why shouldn't I? I never heard that uncles were wicked, except the one who killed the babes in the wood. Now you will go; you will be an angel! I know this special uncle who is to lend money on my ring will be delightful!"

CHAPTER XII. THE LAND OF PERHAPS.

There are some people who always get their way in life. They are by no means the best people, nor the most amiable, nor the most thoughtful. Sometimes, and not a very rare sometimes either, the poor, thoughtful people go to the wall, when the thoughtless and impulsive and careless come triumphantly out of their difficulties.

There never was a girl who got into a greater number of scrapes than Annie Forest; but neither was there ever a girl who managed to right herself more quickly. She knew the art of twisting other people round her little finger. Having performed this feat to perfection on Mrs. Martin, alias Patty, alias nursey, she went happily to bed, knowing that all would be right for the present, and [Pg 98]never giving a thought to the evil but still distant hour when she must return her mother's ring to Mrs. Willis.

Annie rose in good time in the morning, and took upon herself the preparing of Mrs. Martin's breakfast. She lit a fire in the old lady's sitting-room, and toasted her bread with her own fair hands, and made the tea for her to drink.

Mrs. Martin started on her journey to Nortonbury with many fervent blessings from Annie, who then returned in a high state of content to her own room.

The parcel of cambric arrived in due time, and Annie cut out the first of the three frocks that morning.

In order to keep their secret quite to themselves, Nora and Annie decided to keep the door of the library locked while they were at work. This arrangement was delightful to Nora, but it irritated Molly not a little. When she came to see her