Girls of the True Blue

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.”

CHAPTER XXVI. – SUNBEAM

Mrs. Richmond sailed for the Cape on the following Monday; sending a telegram to her daughters to announce her departure just before she left England; and on the following Wednesday evening Miss Roy came back.

Miss Roy had been in the Richmond family for five years. She was a woman of about forty years of age, extremely kind, most faithful, most devoted to the interests of her employer, and most affectionate to her little charges. She was not a finishing-governess by any means. But she was just the sort of useful person who could be invaluable in times of difficulty or distress. Mrs. Richmond felt that in her absence Miss Roy would act almost as a mother to her children, and she went away happily in consequence.

The good governess had debarred herself from a whole fortnight of her usual holiday to meet this time of need.

Nora, Kitty, and Nancy hailed her return with delight; and Augusta, who in her heart of hearts regarded her as a tiresome, tyrannical old maid, was equally loud in her affectionate expressions on the night of her return.

On the following day Captain Richmond asked Miss Roy to have a private interview with him. No one was better pleased than he that she should come back to help him in the management of his battalion, as he still in fun called the four girls.

“Well, sergeant,” he said, coming into the schoolroom, and speaking in as cheerful a manner as possible, “I want to talk over things with you. – Soldiers, I must deprive you of your sergeant for a short time. – This way, please, Sergeant Roy.”

He opened the door as he spoke, and Miss Roy, laughing heartily, went out with him.

“Isn’t Uncle Pete funny?” said Kitty. “He is always making us laugh. I do think he is a darling.”

“You don’t call that sort of talk, funny, do you?” said Augusta, who was by no means pleased at the Captain’s desire for a private interview with Miss Roy. “If that is your idea of fun I pity you. Uncle Peter forgets that we are growing up very fast, and are not babies to be amused by infant talk.”

“Uncle Pete could not be silly,” replied Nora.

“If you don’t like him, why don’t you hold your tongue?” replied Kitty.

“And why do you pretend to like him so much?” said Nora again.

“Of course I like him,” cried Augusta, who feared that she might have gone too far. “Well, let’s go on with our history; we may as well have good marks. All these sort of things will tell when the great day of the prize-giving arrives.”

Meanwhile Captain Richmond had conducted Miss Roy to the drawing-room. They both stood close to the chiffonier. Captain Richmond pushed forward a chair and asked the governess to seat herself.

“I want to show you something,” he said, “and I should be extremely glad if you could throw some light upon it. It has troubled me a good bit.”

“What do you mean?” said Miss Roy.

“I allude to an entry in the orderly-book.”

“An entry in the orderly-book!”

“Yes – made in your absence – made by my sister-in-law. Perhaps you can explain it.”

As Captain Richmond spoke he opened the drawer of the chiffonier where the orderly-book was kept, took out the book, and placed it on a small table before the governess; then opening the book, he pointed to the page where poor Nancy’s cruel conduct was testified to.

“Look,” he said. “You would not have supposed that she could be cruel.”

“Nancy cruel!” said Miss Roy. “Excuse me one moment, Captain Richmond; I will put on my glasses. This puzzles me.”

Miss Roy adjusted her glasses and bent over the book. She was naturally a very calm woman, and was in no hurry to give herself away. She turned page after page and examined the marks of the other girls. Finally, she took the marks for conduct, diligence, intellectual employments on the 24th of August by themselves, looking separately at the page devoted to each girl.

“Well?” said Captain Richmond, who was watching her with interest.

“I cannot understand it,” she said. “It cannot possibly be true.”

“So I thought,” said the Captain.

“It cannot be true,” repeated Miss Roy. “A mark for carelessness, for forgetfulness, even for untidiness, might be possible in the case of Nancy Esterleigh, but cruelty – No, Captain Richmond, the child could not be cruel.”

“And yet,” said the Captain, “the mark is there – most distinctly written. You observe how empty the page is – blanks in most departments – and this terrible mark for conduct. We cannot get over it.”

“It is very unaccountable,” said Miss Roy. “There must be a mistake.”

“I have thought of that,” said the Captain; “but I don’t see how there can be. My sister-in-law is extremely particular, and not at all careless.”

“You must remember,” said Miss Roy, “that she entered these marks on the very day when she was sent for in a hurry to Mrs. Rashleigh.”

“That might account for something, but not for this – this gross act of injustice. Miss Roy, I have watched little Nancy; this mark caused me anxiety. I have watched the child at all hours. I have never seen a trace of cruelty. But there is something the matter. She is not at her ease. She is unhappy. She is like a child who carries a secret.”

“Augusta again,” said Miss Roy.

“I think not,” answered the Captain. “I have observed them together, and have noticed that Augusta is extremely kind to Nancy. I don’t personally care for Augusta. She is not at all to my taste. But one must not be unjust to her. No, it is not that. Nancy carries a secret. Why should she carry a secret, Miss Roy? Painful as it is to say, does it not rather point to the truth of this terrible report?”

“The thing to do,” said Miss Roy, “is to appeal to Mrs. Richmond. I wonder you did not think of this before, Captain Richmond.”

“I did; but I did not want to worry her while she was away, and with a great deal of care on her shoulders. And remember, we expected her home about now. Her sudden visit to South Africa upset all our calculations, and as a matter of fact put this thing out of my head. But even if I had thought of asking for an explanation, I should scarcely like to have done so just at present. She would naturally say, ‘You ought to accept my plain statements without comment.’”

“Not in this case, and with such an extraordinary accusation against a most tender-hearted child,” was Miss Roy’s answer. “Well, what is to be done now? Even if we were to write to Mrs. Richmond, we could not get an answer for six weeks.”

“We cannot wait for that,” said the Captain; “the prizes are to be given in three weeks’ time from to-day.”

“And you will let this influence you, Captain Richmond?” said Miss Roy.

“What am I to do?” he answered, shrugging his shoulders; and as he spoke he shut the orderly-book. “I am glad I have confided in you,” he said. “You may throw light on the matter; I sincerely hope you will. But for this dreadful mark, Nancy would get the Royal Cross. As it is” —

He paused and shrugged his shoulders again. “There is just one thing more,” he added. “Some one has broken open this drawer in the chiffonier. See for yourself.”

The open drawer showed the marks where a knife had been used, making distinct indentations in the delicate wood.

“The mystery thickens,” said Miss Roy. “Well, I will watch and do what I can.”

“You will be very careful not to let any one know I have spoken to you,” said Captain Richmond.

“Certainly, Captain Richmond; I will be most careful.”

Miss Roy went away. She felt very much troubled and perplexed. The Captain’s remarks with regard to Nancy troubled her almost as much as the extraordinary and unaccountable entry in the orderly-book.

“What can it all mean? There are some crimes which it is impossible to associate with certain natures,” was her thought. “Nancy would not hurt a fly. She is over-sensitive and over-affectionate; if any one could be over-kind it would be Nancy. And yet – and yet – Oh, I do trust light will be thrown on this mystery! I hope Captain Richmond will not give away the prizes before Mrs. Richmond returns. I am quite sure she can explain what is wrong. Then, who opened the drawer without a key? It would be an act of cruel injustice to deprive Nancy of the prize until we discover who has done that. Poor, dear little girl; I will try and find her, and see if I can lead her to talk of this matter. Of course, I am bound by my promise to Captain Richmond not to ask her any direct questions.”

Miss Roy entered the schoolroom. It was empty. She went into the shrubbery, and walked round the grounds. She could not find any of the girls. Finally, she went back to the house, and went into Nancy’s bedroom.

Nancy’s room was a very small one, and was entered through the larger room occupied by Nora and Kitty. Nancy was always neat, and her little room was in absolute order. Her bird’s cage hung in the window. The canary, which had been in full feather and lively song, sat upon its perch. Miss Roy was very fond of birds, and she went up now to this one to speak to him.

“Ah, Sunbeam,” she said, “and how are you?”

As she said this she noticed that the bird was not in his usual spirits. His feathers were ruffled, and he looked at the governess with a dull expression in his eye.

“Poor dicky – poor Sunbeam,” said Miss Roy – “what can be wrong with you?”

The cage was hung high to be out of the way of the cats. Miss Roy lifted it down off its hook, and put it on a little table which stood near. The next moment she uttered a shocked exclamation.

No wonder the bird was dull and unable to sing. His water-trough was empty, and he had scarcely any seed left in his seed-drawer.

“Impossible!” said Miss Roy. “Nancy to forget the bird she loves so much! And yet I must believe my own sight.”

She felt very angry. Cruelty to dumb animals was the one sin she could not overlook. Taking the trough, she proceeded to fill it with water; and she was just replenishing the seeds when the door opened, and Augusta, singing a gay song, and carrying a bunch of groundsel in her hand, entered the room.

“Oh, Miss Roy, you here!” she cried. “I was bringing a piece of groundsel for Sunbeam. Why, what is the matter? Is the bird ill?”