A Modern Tomboy: A Story for Girls by L. T. Meade (sight word readers .txt) 📕

made you beautiful, and beautiful people have a great gift."

Irene ceased to look at herself. She flung off the forget-me-not wreath and turned to Rosamund.

"Now, what do you mean by all this lecturing?" she said.

"Beautiful people have a great responsibility," continued Rosamund in a stout voice. "They are sent into the world to make it better. As far as I can make out, up to the present time you have done nothing whatever but make the world worse. You have never, so far as I can tell, been kind to your mother. You have made the servants most unhappy. You have done your utmost to render your governesses' position impossible."

"Because I hate them, and don't want to learn."

"Not want to learn," said Rosamund, "with that forehead so full, so intelligent? Why, you could learn in a flash. You could get knowledge with the utmost ease, and you would love it when once you began. If I am to be your friend you have got to turn over a new leaf. There, I have said enough about yourself for the present. Just let us walk about until tea-time."

"No; I want to go in the boat."

"We won't go in the boat till after tea. I want to talk to you."

"I wonder why I am obeying you?" said Irene, slipping her hand inside Rosamund's.

"Because I mean you to."

"I wonder why I'm not hating you?"

"Because if you did I should leave you."

"I couldn't let you go. It seems to me the whole world is different since I got you. But do tell me, you are not very good yourself?"

"I am not at all so good. Ask the people at Sunnyside what they think of me. There is my dearest friend lying at death's door—that is not my fault, of course; but when I can smile at all when I remember her, you must see for yourself that there is a great deal that is very far from good in me. But there, now, I want to talk about Miss Frost."

"Now, why?" said Irene. "That horror! That dreadful stick-in-the-mud! Oh, she is detestable! I cannot tell you how I loathe her."

"You do, because you don't understand her."

"And pray do you?"

"I understand her more than you do; and in any case I could not be cruel to her."

"But she is so old, and so ugly."

"I thought you didn't mind about people's appearance. You said so a minute ago."

"Well, I didn't; but it seems to me that you have opened my eyes. If I am so beautiful I ought to be with beautiful people, like you, Rosamund; for, now I come to look at you, you are very beautiful."

"It is by no means necessary that you should be with beautiful people; but you should give pleasure to people who are not beautiful, because they would like to look at you, and hear your voice, and be refreshed by your kind actions."

"Good gracious me! Kind actions!" said Irene.

"In future I believe they will be kind. Now, please understand you have been exceedingly cruel to Miss Frost."

"I want her to go."

"She is not going."

"How do you know? I did think those wood-lice would finish her. I thought and thought, and the happy idea came to me this morning. I was quite certain she'd give notice, just as Carter did. They could take her on at the Merrimans'. It seems to me that my governesses always find a berth near, so as to spread the fame of my dreadful character."

"Well, she is not going. She can't go. She has a little brother and sister, and she has got to provide for them."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She has got to feed and clothe them, and to put them to school, and do everything for them. If she left your mother's house she would have no money, and might find it difficult to get another post. So she is not going. I asked her to stay, and she is going to teach me as well as you."

"Dear me!"

"Yes; and we are going to make it exceedingly interesting. I mean you to learn a lot. I assure you, if I come here and give up the next few months of my life to you, I don't mean to do nothing in the time. I want to work hard, and you will have to work hard too. I am not bound to stay with you for a single hour. The moment your pranks begin, the moment I hear of any more toads being put into the bread-pan, or wasps and caterpillars descending on poor James's head, or spiders put down the housemaids' backs, or leeches being allowed to run about your bedroom, I shall just go off. If you want me you must refrain from that sort of thing."

"But won't I have any outlet?"

"Indeed you will have plenty."

"Of what sort?"

"You will see. But there is the tea-bell; let us go in."

Irene looked wonderfully thoughtful, for her. She walked slowly by Rosamund's side into the house. Still slowly, and with that thoughtful expression on her face; she passed along the hall until she reached the pretty parlor where tea was always served. Here Lady Jane herself was waiting in a state of nervous expectancy, and here was Miss Frost, very pale, shaky, and troubled, declaring stoutly to Lady Jane that "they" were running about inside her still.

When the girls entered there was a moment of silence, then a start of surprise, for Irene in white, and wearing her pretty shady hat, looked a totally different Irene from the untidy little creature who usually rushed about in her red frock at all hours and seasons. Rosamund gave Lady Jane a warning glance to take no notice of Irene, who flung herself, very much in her old manner, into a chair exactly opposite Miss Frost.

Of course she was going to be good. At least she supposed she must. It was horrid work, she so infinitely preferred being naughty; but then there was Rosamund, and Rosamund wished it, and she—oh, she did not really think she loved Rosamund, but she had a strange sort of longing to be with her, and Rosamund was free as air, and could go at any moment. Therefore, to keep Rosamund, she must be good. But that needn't prevent her staring hard at Miss Frost, which she proceeded to do with great alacrity.

Meanwhile Lady Jane poured out tea, and talked in her lady-like and refined tones to Rosamund, who replied in exactly the same style.

"Are they alive still?" asked Irene when there was a slight pause in the conversation; and she fixed her dancing eyes full on her governess's face.

"Oh, Irene, it was unkind!" began Miss Frost; but Rosamund hastily interrupted.

"Irene, you know what I mean. That subject is not to be alluded to. Miss Frost, I beg of you not to speak of it before Irene, and do for goodness' sake eat a good meal. Forgive me, Lady Jane, but I want us all to have a very good tea; and as it is such a lovely, lovely day, may we go for a little picnic afterwards, and take our supper with us into the woods? Will you come too, and Miss Frost? It would be so delightful!"

Lady Jane's plan had been to leave Irene entirely to herself. She was to have so many hours' lessons in the day, which generally resulted in not working at all, and the rest of her time she spent either in her boat or hatching mischief to annoy some inmate of the house. But now the idea of a picnic, with supper out-of-doors, on this most glorious summer's day, was altogether new.

"We might have the governess-cart, mightn't we, mothery?" said Irene, turning her eyes away from Miss Frost, and gazing at her mother with great anxiety and interest.

"Certainly, dear, but I"——

"Oh, you must come too," said Rosamund.

She knew very well that Lady Jane would say that she could not go out on the anniversary of her husband's death; but she felt at the same time that it was necessary for Irene's reform that both her mother and governess should accompany her.

"I want us all to go," she said. "I have got a plan in my head. You will let us, won't you?—Irene, you and I will choose what supper we will take, after tea is over. And now, will you kindly pass me the plum-jam—yes, and the butter too?"

What a masterful young person Rosamund Cunliffe was, and how Irene began to lean upon her! She no longer troubled herself even to glance at Miss Frost, who in consequence began to get back her courage and to make a good tea. "The creatures," as she termed them, were certainly less lively, and on the whole she felt better and more disposed to believe the doctor.

As soon as tea was over Rosamund took Irene out of the room, and they went together to the cook.

"Now, the very first thing you are to say to cook is this," said Rosamund: "'Cook, I am exceedingly sorry I put a toad into your bread-pan, and I am not going to do it again. I want you to give me the very nicest supper you can possibly collect at short notice.' You must put on your very prettiest manner when you speak to cook. Will you, Irene?"

"It will be horrid work, for she isn't a lady, you know."

"She is far more a lady than you were when you put the toad into the bread-pan."

"You are sharp, aren't you?" said Irene.

"Because you need it. I won't be sharp with you soon, for I know you are going to be a model girl, and the most beautiful creature in the whole country. You don't know how nice it will feel after being naughty for so long."

"I wonder if it will?" said Irene, beginning to dance along by Rosamund's side.

The necessary apology was made to the cook, who received it with dubious surprise, the other servants standing near; but when they saw Irene glancing in their direction they darted off in more or less pretended terror. Cook, however, was mollified by Rosamund's sweet face, and an excellent supper was packed in a hamper.

The governess-cart was brought round to the front door, and Lady Jane, to her own amazement and much against her will, took the reins and drove as far as Parson's Dale, a most lovely spot four miles away. Miss Frost felt the soft evening air fanning her cheeks and taking some of the nervousness out of her. Irene sat thoughtful, and looking exquisitely pretty. Rosamund chatted on all sorts of subjects. In short, such a day had never before been known to the younger girl.

CHAPTER XIV. SCHOOL AT THE FOLLIES.

Jane Denton had a hard fight for her life. For days she hovered between this world and the next. Two or three doctors came to see her. She had two trained nurses; bulletins were put up at the door; no one was allowed to come in. The girls who were staying with Mrs. Brett were strictly forbidden to have any communication with the infected house; Rosamund and Irene were equally forbidden to go near Sunnyside.

But at last there came a day when there was a decided improvement. The diphtheria was gone, and the young patient began slowly to pass from danger to convalescence. Then a load seemed to be lifted from every one's breast; and Rosamund really turned, as she expressed it, to consider her future life. During the time of waiting she had a certain influence over Irene; not, perhaps, so much as on the first day, when that young lady, charmed, bewildered, and amazed by Rosamund's firmness, had followed her lead unflinchingly. Rosamund now had to consider herself. She wrote, therefore, a long letter to her mother.

"I could not do so," she thought, "while Jane lay between life and death, when there was a strong chance of the school at Sunnyside not existing any more. But now I must write to dear mother and tell her the truth."

Accordingly, the following letter reached Mrs. Cunliffe on a certain morning early in July: