Chapter 25 Girls of the True Blue by L. T. Meade
THE PACKET OF LETTERS
Two or three days later Captain Richmond received a long letter from his sister-in-law. The post arrived at breakfast-time, and the four girls watched him with more or less interest while he read.
He read the letter very carefully over to himself, and his face expressed no emotion whatever. Mrs. Richmond, in reply to a long letter from him, had written as follows:
“My Dear Peter,—I am so thankful that you are able to stay with the children at Fairleigh for the present; you understand Nora and Kitty so well, and I am quite certain that you equally understand our dear little Nancy. As to Augusta, she is more difficult, but I trust the dear child will behave well and not give you any anxiety. Before I reply to your letter, just received, I must tell you that my own plans are somewhat puzzling; and were it not for you, and also for the fact that Miss Roy will be almost immediately returning to Fairleigh, I could not carry them out. My dear friend is in the most alarming condition both of body and mind. The death of her son has completely shattered her, and the doctors have ordered her to go to South Africa immediately to pay a visit to her married daughter. She is quite incapable of taking the voyage alone, and I am forced to go with her. I shall only stay to see her settled, and after putting her into the care of her daughter, will return home by the first boat possible to England. But the whole thing will probably take a couple of months, and during that time I want you and Miss Roy to keep house for me. I have not even time to come home to say good-bye to the dear children, but they are quite well and in the best of hands. I am writing to my own girls, and they will receive their letter by the next post. Please tell them so, and give them my dear love. My maid, Justine, will return to Fairleigh to pack some things for me, for I cannot leave my poor friend even for a day. We sail, all being well, on Monday.
“Now to come to the subject of your letter. I do not know the Asprays personally, although their name is familiar to me. My dear brother, I have something curious to tell you with regard to them. You know how fond I am of Nancy Esterleigh. I have adopted her as my own dear child, and trust she will never give her affections to any other so-called mother. But this is the state of the case: By her father’s will she is entitled, should she ever wish to claim it, to a permanent home and also to provision for the future from Mr. Aspray. Were she to leave me and go to him he could not refuse her this home. The matter was arranged many years ago, when dear Nancy was only a baby. It has something to do with a considerable sum of money which Mr. Aspray borrowed from Nancy’s father. He was unable to pay it back at the time, but offered, if ever necessary, to take his little daughter and to do for her and bring her up with his own children, and to provide for her future. Nancy’s mother told me all about this when she herself was dying, and she gave me the letter which Nancy, if necessary, is to take to Mr. Aspray. Nancy’s mother anything but wished that her little girl should be adopted by the Americans, and implored of me to do all in my power to prevent such a contingency. I feel, therefore, that any intimate acquaintance is scarcely desirable. Not that I am in the least afraid that Nancy would prefer those people to my little girls or me.
“What I have told you with regard to Nancy is for yourself alone, and you will be guided how best to act under the circumstances.
“Yes, Peter, Augusta is certainly the one who troubles me, and I am going to write her a special and private letter. She is sure to take a fancy to the Asprays, for she is more worldly-minded than my own dear children. Now I think I have explained everything to you. Of course, we cannot be rude to them, but any intimacy with the Asprays is the reverse of desirable.—Your affectionate sister-in-law,
“Jessie Richmond.”
Having read this letter once, Captain Richmond slowly and carefully perused it again, and then raised his eyes.
“Oh, Uncle Pete! that is good,” cried Nora; “you have looked up at last. We have been watching you by the clock, and you have been a quarter of an hour and two minutes reading mother’s letter. What can she possibly have to say? We expected to hear from her this morning, but she has not written. Is anything wrong, Uncle Pete? How funny you look! You have your half-glad and half-sorry face on.—Hasn’t he, Kitty?”
“Yes,” said Kitty; “and we can’t keep in our curiosity any longer, so please read that long, long—wonderfully long—letter aloud.”
Captain Richmond rose.
“No,” he said; “the letter is private. But if you will all come to me on the terrace in a quarter of an hour I will tell you what parts of it you ought to know. Be sure you come, Nancy—and you, Augusta. Ta-ta for the present.”
He blew a kiss to his nieces, nodded to the other girls, and left the room.
“Then it is something very exciting,” said Kitty. “I thought so when he frowned and his brows met in a line, and then when he gave that quick little jerk and sort of sigh. Oh dear! aren’t you nearly mad with curiosity, Nancy?”
“I should like to know what Aunt Jessie has written about,” said Nancy. “But, after all, Uncle Pete will tell us in a very short time; and I must go now and feed my canary.”
Nora and Kitty had given Nancy a very beautiful canary a few days before. The bird was a splendid specimen of its kind, and sang magnificently. She had hung it up in her own bedroom, and now went up to give it fresh seed and groundsel.
The quarter of an hour soon passed, and the four girls met Captain Richmond on the terrace, which at that hour in the morning was quite cool and sheltered from the fierce rays of the sun. He was seated reading that wonderful letter for the third time; but when he saw the girls he thrust it into his pocket and came to meet them.
“Now then,” he said, “for my news, which is somewhat startling. We shall not have your dear, kind mother here for the present.”
“Why?” said Kitty. “Is her friend so very ill?”
“Poor thing, she is very ill indeed, Kitty—I fear alarmingly so; and your mother—just like her kindness—is going to accompany her to South Africa. They start on Monday, and your mother says she has no time to return home between now and then. Indeed, even if she had, she could not leave Mrs. Rashleigh. Justine will arrive to-day or to-morrow and pack her things.”
“Don’t cry, Kitty,” said Nora; “mother would not go if she could help it.”
“Of course not,” said Kitty; but as she sat down on the nearest seat her pretty little face was white and tears were brimming over in her eyes.
Nancy immediately seated herself next to Kitty, and flung one protecting arm round her neck.
“I understand—I understand,” she whispered in her ear.
The low and intensely sympathetic words comforted the little girl, and she squeezed Nancy’s hand and nestled up against her.
“Well,” continued Captain Richmond, “that is one part of the letter. Miss Roy returns to resume her duties next week, and between now and then I shall be in charge. You have been very good girls in the past, and I trust you will be equally good in the future. You may be certain I shall do all I can to promote happiness and good-will amongst us.”
Here he laughed, and his eyes met those of Augusta, who was gazing at him as if she would read him through.
“Now to take the bull by the horns,” thought Captain Richmond to himself. He paused for a minute, and then he said slowly and emphatically:
“With regard to the subject about which I wrote to your mother, Nora and Kitty, and to your aunt, Augusta, she—as I thought she would—agrees with me. We are to be polite to the Asprays, but there is to be no intimacy. We cannot dispute my sister-in-law’s wishes; we may therefore regard that subject as a closed book.” Captain Richmond put on his most determined air as he spoke, and held out his hand to Kitty. “Who will come for a walk with me in the woods?” he said.
“No, thank you; I don’t want to go,” cried Augusta; and she turned and went very sulkily into the house.
She ran up to her own room. Shutting the door and turning the key in the lock, she took out of her pocket a letter which she had slipped into it unperceived by any one that morning. The letter had been lying on her plate at breakfast, but she had managed to secrete it before the other girls had come down. She had read it once, and now she proceeded to read it again. It was from Flora Aspray, and its contents were of the deepest interest to Augusta. Flora wrote with great earnestness and spirit.
“Oh, we want you so badly!” explained the letter. “I don’t like to say too much, but, you dear, bewitching girl, you have made a conquest. However, more of that anon. Yours is the very first invitation sent out. We are getting up a little dance—quite a scratch affair. It is to be this day week—only a poor little Cinderella, from eight to twelve o’clock. There will be several girls quite as young as yourself, so the most fastidious could not object. If you could come to us we could give you a bed for the night; and if you must have company, do ask any of the other three girls you like to come with you. But, to be frank, we only want you. David Archer says that your cousins and your queer little friend are too funny for anything. You know, David is quite a mimic; you would die with laughter if you saw him taking off that funny, prim little Nancy. Oh! and, my dear girl, that precious Captain Richmond of yours is too good for life. I never had a duller walk than the one we took together. David Archer takes him off, too, with his saintliness and goody-goody airs. Oh, it is killing! But there, Augusta; how my pen runs on! The main thing that all this leads up to is, will you come? Will you give us the great pleasure of your company? Oh, of course you will! You cannot help yourself. If you were not present it would nearly break the heart of your most devoted—Flo.
“P.S. If you have not a suitable dress with you, either Constance or I can give you a big selection to choose from, so don’t worry on that score—only come.”
“Go I will,” said Augusta to herself when she had finished reading the letter. “I would not lose the fun for all the world. But now, how shall I manage it?”
She sat with Flora’s letter upon her lap and gave herself up to meditation. It was a lovely day, and the window of her pretty bedroom was wide open. The sky was blue, and the trees a brilliant green. The lawns, which rolled away right down to the end of the paddock, were smooth as velvet. Presently a little figure crossed one of them and came slowly towards the house. Augusta’s eyes contracted and her brows met in a frown as she watched the little figure.
“It is odd how I dislike Nan,” she said to herself. “Poor child, I suppose she is quite passable, and even agreeable to others, but she always does manage to rub me the wrong way. She could be wonderfully useful now, however. If I could get her to run to the post with my answer I should feel more or less relieved; and if things are eventually found out, and it is discovered she has a finger in the pie, so much the better for me.”
Augusta sprang up, put her head out of the window, and called to Nancy.
“Come here, Nancy; I want you,” she cried.
Nancy ran towards her, standing under the window and looking up.
“What are you doing?” asked Augusta.
“Oh! lots of things; but nothing very, very special. Do you want me, Gussie?”
“Yes; there is no one else to send, and I just want some one to run to the village and put a letter I am about to write into the post for me. Will you go? It would be awfully good-natured of you.”
“Yes; of course I will.”
“Well, come up to my room in ten minutes and I’ll have the letter ready.”
Augusta seated herself at her little table, and wrote quickly:
“My Dear Flo,—The fat is in the fire, and we are forbidden all intercourse with you. Mean, horrid, disgraceful, unbearable, I call it! Don’t think for a single moment that I submit. I love you better than any girl I have ever met. I love Constance, too. But, oh! I must hurry, for I want you to get this letter by the middle of the day. Don’t come near the place at present, and don’t walk in the woods, for if I met you I might be discovered, and I don’t want anything to be known until after the Cinderella. Of course I am going, but how I do not know at the present moment. I can’t sleep at your house; that is certain. You will hear from me nearer the time. And now, good-bye.—Your affectionate friend,
“Augusta Duncan.”
Augusta had scarcely finished her letter before Nancy’s tap was heard at her door.
“Come in,” called out the young lady; and Nancy entered.
“Is the letter ready, Augusta?” she asked.
“Yes; I am directing it. Have you got a stamp about you?”
“Yes.”
“Lend me one, like a good child.”
Nancy took out her purse, produced a stamp, and gave it to Augusta.
Augusta proceeded to affix it to the letter, which she then gave to Nancy.
“It is private,” she said; “don’t for the life of you show it to any one. And now be off; put wings to your feet, or you will lose the half-past ten clearance.”
“But it is to one of the Asprays,” said Nancy, taking up the letter and looking at it, and then putting it down again.
“Well, and what of that?” asked Augusta, turning very red, and looking extremely angry.
“Oh! nothing, of course; only you heard what Uncle Peter said this morning.”
“Certainly I did; I am not deaf.”
“And after hearing what he said, ought you to write to them?” stammered Nancy.
“What a silly child you are! Have I not told them we are to keep out of their way in the future? How comfortable we should feel if they were haunting our woods and we could not talk to them! Now, as I have explained matters, I suppose you will post the letter.”
“I don’t know; I don’t think it is quite right. Can’t you post it yourself?”
“I can’t, and won’t. There are things I could tell about you. I could give you an uncommonly hot time. You had better be off. Drop that letter into the pillar-box and you will be worried by no more Asprays. Refuse to drop it in and you will have a pleasant time in the future.”
Nancy took up the letter very gingerly. She stood still for a moment; then she turned and left the room.
“Be sure you don’t show it to any one.”
“No.”
“And be quick.”
“Yes.”
“There! that’s a good thing,” said Augusta to herself. “If I am discovered I can prove that Nancy posted my letter for me. When they rouse my worst passions as they are doing in this house they little know what it means. Where my own interests are concerned I stop at nothing—nothing. Go to that dance. I will. Oh dear, what a worry things are, all the same! I wish I could see the whole of Aunt Jessie’s letter. I am sure there are allusions to me in it; I guessed as much by the expression in our gallant captain’s eyes.”
Augusta left her room and went downstairs and joined the rest of the party. The remainder of the day passed without anything special occurring. Kitty and Nora, having got over the fact that their mother was not returning home at present, gave themselves up to the delightful time Uncle Peter always managed to arrange for them. Augusta pretended to be equally cheerful; and Nan, though a little pale and silent, behaved quite in an unremarkable fashion.
Late that evening a telegram came from Justine to say that she was travelling all night, and would arrive at Fairleigh between nine and ten the following morning.
She did arrive at the time stated, and went immediately up to her mistress’s room to pack the things necessary for the voyage. She had not been long there before Augusta appeared at the door.
“Can I help you, Justine?” she asked. “The others have all gone out boating, but I had a headache. It is better now, and therefore I can do anything you like, if you will only tell me what.”
“Thank you very much, miss,” replied the woman. “I should be pleased if you would help me. My mistress wants a lot of things, not only for herself but for Mrs. Rashleigh, for the poor lady had no time to get any sort of wardrobe for so unexpected a voyage, and my mistress is going to lend her some of her things. What I want to do is this, miss—to make two separate lists, one of my mistress’s things, and one of those which are to be lent to Mrs. Rashleigh. I am going to pack the things for Mrs. Rashleigh in one trunk, and the things for my mistress in another; and as I have got to catch the three o’clock train back to town on my way to the north, there is not too much time to spare.”
“Of course there is not, Justine. How glad I am I asked if I could help you! Shall I make out the lists for you?”
“Will you, miss? That was just what I wanted to propose.”
Augusta went to her room, fetched paper and pens, and was soon seated beside a small table, writing out lists of different garments under Justine’s directions.
Augusta could be both quick and orderly, so she was of substantial help to the maid.
“I am sure, miss, I don’t know how to thank you; your help makes all the difference,” said the good woman. “Oh dear, Miss Gussie! we have had a terrible time. I never saw a poor lady in such an awful state. Me and her maid, Fanny, thought she was going off her head. It was terrible, miss—terrible.”
Augusta listened, and asked several questions. She was by nature very curious, and Justine’s narrative gave her some pleasant and exciting thrills.
“I could make a splendid story out of this and frighten Flora so that she would scream,” thought Augusta to herself. “It is such fun frightening people, particularly in the dark, or just when you are going to bed. I do wish I could sleep at the Asprays’ house next week. However, that is not to be thought of.”
“Now, miss,” said Justine, “there is only one thing more of any importance to-day. Do you see these keys?”
“Yes,” said Augusta. “Why, these are Aunt Jessie’s special private keys.”
“They are, miss, and she trusted me with them. I am sure I feel highly honoured. She said I was to give them to Captain Richmond, and that he would do what she wanted; but I do declare, what with being up all night and being dead fagged, I forgot it. What is to be done? I suppose the Captain will be in soon, miss?”
“Indeed he won’t,” answered Augusta. “They have all gone across to the Sovereign Islands, and have taken some lunch with them. They can’t be back, for the tide won’t let them—at least, not before five o’clock.”
“And I hope to be getting towards London by that hour, so whatever is to be done?” said Justine.
“Oh, can’t I do it?” said Augusta. “If those are the keys, you can give me the same directions you were to have given to Captain Richmond.”
“To be sure,” said Justine. “But I could do it myself, for that matter.”
“No, no, Justine; you had better let me. You know, I am Aunt Jessie’s very own niece, and you are only her servant.”
“Thank you, miss, but servants can be faithful.”
“I know that; and there never was a more faithful creature than you. If you think you are to be more trusted than me, do what is necessary, Justine; I have not a word more to say.”
Justine stood silent, pressing her hand to her cheek. She had never known anything against Augusta, whose manners were pleasant enough when she chose to make herself agreeable. Augusta certainly was Mrs. Richmond’s niece, and as the matter in question was of some importance, and Captain Richmond could not possibly be got at, she decided to trust her.
“Here, miss,” she said; “you know the Sheraton chiffonier in the drawing-room?”
“Yes,” said Augusta.
“And you know that all the drawers have different keys?”
“Have they?”
“Yes, miss, they have. My missus keeps her valuable papers and things of importance in the different drawers of the Sheraton chiffonier, and she told me to ask the Captain to open the top drawer at the right-hand side, and press a spring, which reveals a secret drawer, and take out from it a little box, which he was to give me to take back to my mistress. Mrs. Richmond only thought of this box at the last minute. It has some jewels in it which she wants to have set in a particular way at the Cape for the young ladies, and she had not even a minute to write. Do you understand, Miss Augusta?”
“Am I stupid?” said Augusta. “Why, it is the simplest thing in the world. Give me the keys, please, Justine.”
“Thank you, miss; here they are. And I think, while you are getting me the little box, I will go down to the servants’ hall and have my dinner, for I am not only tired but faint.”
Augusta nodded, and in high spirits, her heart beating, went down to the drawing-room. She had no special desire to possess herself of her aunt’s secrets. The contents of the little box did not interest her in the least, but she was the sort of girl who liked to put her finger into every pie.
“There is never any saying what I may come across,” she whispered to herself; “and knowledge is power. I have always felt that, and I have always proved it. Dear, dear! I am lucky. No one suspects me of having broken open one of these precious drawers. Aunt Jessie is going away, so Uncle Peter will not have an opportunity of asking her about that curious mark against Nancy’s conduct. And long before Aunt Jessie comes back the prize-day will have come and gone. Yes, I certainly am in luck. And now, if I can but keep up my character for good and excellent conduct, and at the same time have my bit of fun, then I shall regard myself as one of the luckiest girls in the world.”
Augusta closed the drawing-room door after her, walked up the long room and standing before the chiffonier, she inserted the key which Justine had given her into the lock, opened the little drawer, and proceeded to press the spring which revealed the secret drawer. Her pressure acted immediately; the bolt shot back, and another drawer was discovered behind it. She pulled it open. It contained a small jewel-case, a little wooden box, and also a packet of letters. Augusta took out the box, which she thought must be the one described by Justine. She was about to shut the drawer when her attention was attracted by the handwriting on the letters. They were all tied together by a piece of ribbon, and the words “About Nancy and the Asprays” were written across them.
“Nancy and the Asprays,” said Augusta to herself. “Ah! I may indeed find out something to my own advantage now. I have plenty of time, too, for Justine won’t hurry with her lunch.”
Accordingly, Augusta seated herself calmly on a small chair which stood by, and untying the packet, proceeded to read the letters. She read them one after the other. There were only three or four, and nothing could be plainer than their meaning. The colour rushed into Augusta’s cheeks as she perused them, and her eyes grew very bright. Having finished them, she sat silent for a minute; then, tying them up again so as to look exactly as they had done before, she returned them to their place in the secret drawer. She pushed back the hinge, shut the outer drawer and locked it, and, with the little box in her hand, went upstairs. She had been longer than she thought, for Justine, in some impatience, was waiting for her.
“I was just coming down to the drawing-room to look for you, Miss Augusta,” she said.
“Oh! I didn’t hurry,” said Augusta; “I thought you would be at your dinner.”
“I could not eat, miss, my head was that bad. And, oh dear! time is going; I have to leave here not a minute later than half-past two. Is that the box, miss?”
“Yes; and here is the key. I wonder, Justine,” she added——
“Yes, miss.”
“I don’t know whether I ought to say it, but—don’t you think it would simplify matters if you didn’t tell that you had forgotten to speak to Captain Richmond of this?”
Justine coloured.
“But if I kept it secret you would tell.”
“Indeed I would not. Why should I get you into a scrape, poor Justine, situated as you are?”
“Indeed, Miss Gussie, that is true, for I have had a time since I left here, and me expecting my holiday and all. I know mistress will be vexed with me if I tell, but I don’t like, somehow, to make a secret of it.”
“If I were you I would not tell,” said Augusta; “you will only get into a scrape. And, of course, I will never breathe it to a soul. But please yourself, of course.”
“Well then, miss, if you promise it won’t pass your lips, I don’t see why I should get myself into hot water.”
“I won’t speak of it, Justine. And now, do lie down for a minute. I have some lovely aromatic vinegar in my room; I will bathe your face and hands.”
“Oh miss! but I am sure I could not let you.”
“Nonsense! Why shouldn’t I help you? Even though you are a servant, you are a fellow-creature. There! lie down on this little bed; there is lots of time—it is not two o’clock yet.”
So Augusta waited on Justine, and soothed and comforted her, and made her forget her headache; and when at last she left the house the good woman said to herself that a dearer and nicer young lady than Miss Gussie never walked the earth.
“All the same,” said Justine, “it would not have occurred to me to keep my forgetfulness from my mistress if she hadn’t put it into my head; but as she did, doubtless it is the best way. She is a very clever young lady for her years; and very thoughtful, too.”