A Fluttered Dovecote Part 16

As we upon the second floor all had small washstands and jugs and basins of the same pattern, I thought that, after all, she had taken mine; but she had not, nor yet Patty's; and as she saw what I was looking at, she burst out laughing, and said--

"I slipped up and into the Fraulein's room, and took hers; and now they may find out if they can. Of course, you won't tell, darling? Promise me that."

I felt so cross that I was ready to say I would; for I was disappointed, and though the thoughts of the meeting had taken away my appet.i.te, now that it was not to be, I felt as hungry as possible. But it would have been cruel to have said anything, so, of course, I promised.

"Another disappointment for the poor French Verb," whispered Clara, laughing.

"For shame," I said, "to speak in so disrespectful a way."

"But it does not much matter," she said; "for he would have been afraid to climb up, when he found out really how high it was."

"Don't talk stuff!" I said; "he would get up if it were twice as high, for my sake. Why, look how Leander swam the h.e.l.lespont."

"And I say," cried Clara--laughing, and seeming in the highest of glee, which was too bad--"how cold and shivering he must have been when he got across. Bo-o-o-h?" she said, shuddering, "what a cold frog of a lover!

I shouldn't have liked that."

"No," I said, "you have no romance in your composition."

"Haven't I," she said, "you don't know; but I'm not so head over ears in love as you are."

"Perhaps not," I said, spitefully; "because you have no chance."

"Pooh!" said Clara. "Why, I might have had Achille long before you came, if I had liked."

"Perhaps, miss," I exclaimed, with nothing more than reasonable anger, "the next time you mention that gentleman's name you will prefix the Monsieur."

"Certainly, ma'am," said Clara, aggravating me with her mock courtesy.

"And whatever you do," I said, "if you must tease, tell the truth."

"That was the truth," she replied.

"Don't be such a wicked story," I exclaimed. "I don't believe it."

I could not help thinking, after, that in my childish anger I had made use of childish language.

"I don't care what you believe, and what you don't believe," said Clara, coolly; "and I've got--"

"If you young ladies are not silent this minute," said Miss Furness, outside the door, "I shall be compelled to summon Mrs de Blount."

As I lay wondering whether she had heard anything of our conversation, and what it was that Clara had got, and whether it was a letter Achille had sent her before I came, which I did not believe, and did not much care if he had, for he had not seen me then--Miss Furness stood listening at the door, while Clara would not answer my whispered questions, pretending to be offended; and I believe I heard Miss Furness sniff out in the cold pa.s.sage just as I dropped off to sleep.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

MEMORY THE SIXTEENTH--PANGS.

I meant in the last chapter to have told a great deal more; but so many of my troubles and misadventures kept creeping in, that I did not get in one-half of what I intended. What pains I took to gain an interview-- or, rather, to grant the poor fellow an interview, though it would have been to me the reaching of a green oasis in my journey across life's desert, when, for a short time, the gentle palm branches would have waved, as it were, in gentle motion above our heads, while our cheeks would have been fanned by the gentle breath of love.

Of course there was a terrible to do about the basin in the morning, but it so happened, luckily, that the cat was not beneath our window, but beyond the Fraulein's; so that in trying to reach it, Clara had thrown the basin for some distance, and right past our neighbour's window. The Fraulein declared that she had never opened hers; and, poor woman, she opened her mouth into quite a round O when told that she must have thrown it out. There was nothing to cast suspicion upon us, for it was more likely to have been Celia Blang, on the other side of the Fraulein; and so, at last, the matter dropped, and we heard no more of it then.

But I had such a delightful treat two days after; for while we were going down the High Street, Miss Furness must turn faint, and have to be helped into the first house at hand, to sit down and rest, and that was Mrs Jackney's, the milliner's; and there we were, four or five of us at once, in the little parlour--dear Achille's "apartment meublee," as he called it. He was from home, giving lessons somewhere, no doubt; but while they were bathing Miss Furness's face, and giving her sniffs of salts, and gla.s.ses of water to drink, I had such a look round the place, and saw his dear old boots in one corner--the pair, I was sure, he must put on for ease and comfort of a night; and I was so glad to see them, for, if, instead, I had caught sight of a nice, handsomely worked pair of slippers, they would have given me quite a pang. Now I felt that the task--no, the pleasure--was left for me.

Then there was a dear, duck of an old coat hanging behind the door; and such nice, funny little holes in the elbows, where he had rested his arms upon the table while he studied; and there was his pipe, and two bits of cigars, and a few yellow paper-covered books, and one thing which did, I must own, make me feel a little uncomfortable, a scarlet and black smoking cap--at least, it had been scarlet once, and had evidently been made by a lady, and, of course, one would have liked to have known who was the maker.

At first, in remembrance of her bitter, teasing words, I thought that it might have been Clara; but it did not look new enough; for the scarlet was fast verging upon the black, and, no doubt, in a short time it would have been impossible to make out the pattern. But I was glad to see it; for it was a hint that Achille would soon require a new one, and I knew who would make it. However, I did not much care; and taking advantage of there being no one looking, I contrived to drop my handkerchief inside it; but directly after I trembled, and wanted to have it back again, for there was my name marked upon it in full, in ink, and I was afraid that his landlady, Mrs Jackney, might see it.

I had a good look at her, to see whether I need feel jealous, and found, to my great delight, that I need not; for she was worse in appearance than Miss Furness, but evidently a very pleasant body; though, all the same I should not have liked her to find my handkerchief. However, there was no getting it back; for Miss Furness was now able to sit up, and I was one of the first to be obliged to leave the room, and stand agonised in the pa.s.sage, lest any one should find out what I had done.

But nothing was seen, and I heard afterwards from Achille, in one of his notes--the best, I think, that he ever wrote to me--how fondly he prized the treasure; and I mentally declared that it was not a bad way of laying out the value of a pocket-handkerchief, and that he should soon have another.

It was all so horribly unfortunate. If we made an engagement to meet, something was sure to happen; while, in spite of the time that had now pa.s.sed since the poor Signor left, not one short five minutes had poor Achille and I had together. It was enough to make me ever so fond and devoted; and though I might be trembling a little in my allegiance at one time, I was ready to become a martyr now for his sake. But, as I said before, the very fact of an a.s.signation being made was the signal for, or precursor of, something to happen; so that, I'm sure, I was quite in a tremble, a few days after Miss Furness's faint, when Achille gave me a few lines inside De Porquet, telling me, in a few simple words, that he was again that night about to try his fortune, when he hoped I should be able to a.s.sist him to benefit the poor exiles, who were now in a great state of distress. No one, to have found that sc.r.a.p of paper, would have imagined that it was anything more than a piece torn off to act as book-mark, and he gave me the book with it standing right out, so that Miss Furness could see it quite plainly as he pa.s.sed it right under her nose, saying--

"I have put a piece of paper where you shall go on, Miss Bozerne."

When I looked at it there was only hastily scrawled--

"Mercredi, une heure," and "the poor suffer want--les pauvres ont besoin."

That was all, and it really seemed to be a bit of exercise, and nothing else. But then, I had the key in my heart, and could read it as he meant; though truly it was an exercise for me to find means to overtop all difficulties and meet him. I knew what he meant well enough--just as well as if he had written four pages, crossed, in his own niggling, little, scrimply, unintelligible, Frenchy hand. So I sat thinking of the six box cords tied together and hidden away in the bottom drawer, underneath my green silk, and tightly locked up to keep them from prying eyes.

Well, of course, I told Clara--though I may as well own that I really should not if I could have helped it. For she was anything but what I should have liked; and, of course, I did not care to be so teased. And there was my appet.i.te so spoiled again that I could not eat, and poor me in such a fidget for the rest of the day, that I did not know what to do. I slipped upstairs three times to see if the cord was all right, and the knots tightly tied; and then, the last time, if I did not hear Miss Furness calling me, and come down in a flurry and leave the key in the drawer. I turned quite hot all over when I felt for it in my pocket, and was sure I had lost it somewhere; when if I could not get some more cord I should be stopped again. All at once I remembered that the thing must be stuck in the keyhole. So, as soon as the lesson with Miss Furness was over, I slipped to the back staircase, and was about halfway up, when I must meet that tiresome, fat, old Fraulein.

"Vots for you heere, Mees Bozerne?" croaked the tiresome old English killer. "Young ladies 'ave no beesness upstaer in de afternoon. Go you down."

Of course I had to go down again, for I was breaking rules, and ought to have been at work at private study in the schoolroom till half an hour before tea-time.

"It's too bad," I muttered, as I began to descend--"too bad to send me to a place like this, where one may not even go up to one's bedroom.

I'm sure, I don't feel in the least bit like a school-girl."

Just then I heard Miss Sloman calling the Fraulein to "Come here, dear!"

They always called one another, "my love," and "dear," in private, though I'm sure no one could have been more unamiable, or looked more ready to scratch and call names. So the Fraulein again ordered me to go down, and then turned back, evidently to go to Miss Sloman: so, seizing the opportunity, I slipped down into the hall, and began bounding up the front stairs like lightning, when if I did not literally run up against Mrs Blunt, and strike her right in the chest with my head, just as she had come out of her room--for I was not looking, but, with head down, bounding up two stairs at a time.

It was a crash! Poor woman, she could not get breath to speak for some time. But, there, she was not the only one hurt; for that horrible twisted vulcanite coronet was driven right into my poor head, and pained me terribly.

"Ach ten!" cried the Fraulein, who had heard the crash and exclamation on both sides, and now came waddling up; "I told you go down, ten, Miss Bozerne, and you come up to knock de lady princ.i.p.al."

So I was, without a word to say in defence, sent down in the most dreadful disgrace. But there was some fun in it, after all; for Clara vowed that the poor woman received such a shock that two of her bones-- stay bones--were broken, and she nearly swallowed her teeth. But that Clara always would exaggerate so dreadfully; and, of course, that was not true.

I was not going to be threatened with medicine this time because my appet.i.te was bad, so I kept one slice of bread and b.u.t.ter upon my plate to bite at, though it was almost enough to choke me; and then I managed to draw two more slices over the edge of my plate into my lap, where my pocket-handkerchief was spread all ready; and then I wrapped them up, when I thought that no one was looking, and put them in my pocket; and so tea was got over, and I thought what a long time it would be till midnight.

We were all standing in the middle of the cla.s.sroom before getting our books out for the evening studies, when if Patty Smith did not come up to me, and, without waiting to see whether I would or not, exclaimed--

"Lend me your handkerchief, Laura, dear--I won't keep it a moment!"

Seizing one end, which stuck out of my pocket, she gave it a s.n.a.t.c.h, when away it flew, and one piece of bread and b.u.t.ter was slung across the room, and struck Miss Furness in the face; while the other went flop up against the window behind her, stuck upon the pane for a moment, and then fell--leaving a b.u.t.tery mark where it had been, as a matter of course. I declare I never felt so much ashamed in my life; while there were all the girls t.i.ttering and giggling, and Miss Furness wiping her face and scolding terribly about my dreadfully unladylike behaviour, though nothing could have been more humiliating than what followed, for I'm sure I wished there was not such a thing as a piece of bread and b.u.t.ter upon the face of the earth; for said Miss Furness--

"And now, Miss Bozerne, come and pick up those pieces."

I would have given anything to have been able to refuse; but what could I do? I do not see how I could have helped it, for I really felt obliged; and there I was kneeling down, humbled and penitent, to pick it up; and there were the tiresome, b.u.t.tery pieces, all broken up into crumbs here and crumbs there, all over the place.