A Very Naughty Girl Part 29

She listened for a moment, noticed that all was still in the big sitting-room (as likely as not her father had dropped asleep), and then, turning to her left, went quickly away in the direction of the kitchen.

When she entered the kitchen she locked the door. There was a clear and almost smokeless fire in the range, and drawn up close to it was a table covered with a white cloth; on the table were preparations for a meal.

"Well, Sylvia," said Jasper, "and how did he enjoy his chop? How much of it did he give to you, my dear?"

"Oh, none at all, Jasper. I pretended I was not hungry. It was such a pleasure to see him eat it!"

"And what about the fried potatoes, love?"

"He ate them too with such an appet.i.te-I just took a few to satisfy him.

Do you know, Jasper, he says that he thinks an abstemious life agrees with me. He says that I am looking very well, and that he is quite sure no one needs big fires and plenty of food in cold weather-it is simply and entirely a matter of habit."

"Oh! don't talk to me of him any more," said Jasper. "He is the sort of man to give me the dismals. I cannot tell you how often I dream of him at night. You are a great deal too good to him, Sylvia, and that is the truth. But here-here is our dinner, you poor frozen lamb. Eat now and satisfy yourself."

Sylvia sat down and ate with considerable appet.i.te the good and nourishing food which Jasper had provided. As she did so her bright, clear, dark eyes grew brighter than ever, and her young cheeks became full of the lovely color of the damask rose. She pushed her hair from her forehead, and looked thoughtfully into the fire.

"You feel better, dear, don't you?" asked Jasper.

"Better!" said the young girl. "I feel alive. I wonder, Jasper, how long it will last."

"Why should it not go on for some time, dear? I have money-enough, that is, for the present."

"But you are spending your money on me."

"Not at all. You are keeping me and feeding me. I give you twenty shillings a week, and out of that you feed me as well as yourself."

"Oh, that twenty shillings!" cried Sylvia. "What riches it seems! The first week I got it I really felt that I should never, never be able to come to the end of it. I quite trembled when I was in father's presence.

I dreaded that he might see the money lying in my pocket. It seemed impossible that he, who loves money so much, would not notice it; but he did not, and now I am almost accustomed to it. Oh Jasper, you have saved my life!"

"It is well to have lived for some good purpose," said Jasper in a guarded tone. She looked at the young girl, and a quick sigh came to her lips.

"Do you know," she said abruptly, "that I mean to do more than feed you and warm you?"

"But what more could you do?"

"Why, clothe you, love-clothe you."

"No, Jasper; you must not."

"But I must and will," said Jasper. "I have smuggled in all my belongings, and the dear old gentleman does not know a single bit about it. Bless you! notwithstanding that Pilot of his, and the way he himself sneaks about and watches-notwithstanding all these things, I, Amelia Jasper, am a match for him. Yes, my dear, my belongings are in this house, and one of the trunks contains little Evelyn's clothes-the clothes she is not allowed to wear. I mean to alter them, and add to them, and rearrange them, and make them fit for you, my bonny girl."

"It is a temptation," said Sylvia; "but, Jasper dear, I dare not allow you to do it. If I were to appear in anything but the very plainest clothes father would discover there was something up; he would get into a state of terror, and my life would not be worth living. When mother was alive she sometimes tried to dress me as I ought to be dressed, and I remember now a terrible scene and mother's tears. There was an occasion when mother gave me a little crimson velvet frock, and I ran into the dining-room to father. I was quite small then, and the frock suited me, and mother was, oh, so proud! But half an hour later I was in my room, drowned in tears, and ordered to bed immediately, and the frock had been torn off my back by father himself."

"The man is a maniac," said Jasper. "Don't let us talk of him. You can dress fine when you are with me. I mean to have a gay time; I don't mean to let the gra.s.s grow under my feet. What do you say to my smuggling in little Eve some day and letting her have a right jolly time with us two in this old kitchen?"

"But father will certainly, certainly discover it."

"No; I can manage that. The kitchen is far away from the rest of the house, and with this new sort of coal there is scarcely any smoke. At night-at any rate on dark nights-he cannot see even if there is smoke; and in the daytime I burn this special coal. Oh, we are safe enough, my dear; you need have no fear."

Sylvia talked a little longer with Jasper, and then she ran to her own room to put on her very threadbare garments preparatory to going out.

Yes, she certainly felt much, much better. The air was keen and crisp; she was no longer hungry-that gnawing pain in her side had absolutely ceased; she was warm, too, and she longed for exercise. A moment or two later, accompanied by Pilot, she was racing along the snow-covered roads. The splendid color in her cheeks could not but draw the attention of any chance pa.s.ser-by.

"What a handsome-what a very handsome girl!" more than one person said; and it so happened that as Sylvia was flying round a corner, her great mastiff gamboling in front of her, she came face to face with Lady Frances, who was driving to make some calls in the neighborhood.

Lady Frances Wynford was never proof against a pretty face, and she had seldom seen a more lovely vision than those dark eyes and glowing cheeks presented at that moment. She desired her coachman to stop, and bending forward, greeted Sylvia in quite an affectionate way.

"How do you do, Miss Leeson?" she said. "You never came to see me after I invited you to do so. I meant to call on your mother, but you did not greet my proposal with enthusiasm. How is she, by the way?"

"Mother is dead," replied Sylvia in a low tone. The rich color faded slowly from her cheeks, but she would not cry. She looked full up at Lady Frances.

"Poor child!" said that lady kindly; "you must miss her. How old are you, Miss Leeson?"

"I am just sixteen," was the reply.

"Would you like to come for a drive with me?"

"May I?" said the girl in an almost incredulous voice.

"You certainly may; I should like to have you.-Johnson, get down and open the carriage door for Miss Leeson.-But, oh, my dear, what is to be done with the dog?"

"Pilot will go home if I speak to him," said Sylvia.-"Come here, Pilot."

The mastiff strode slowly up.

"Go home, dear," said Sylvia. "Go, and knock as you know how at the gates, and father will let you in. Be quick, dear dog; go at once."

Pilot put on a shrewd and wonderfully knowing expression, c.o.c.ked one ear a little, wagged his tail a trifle, glanced at Lady Frances, seemed on the whole to approve of her, and then turning on his heel, trotted off in the direction of The Priory.

"What a wonderfully intelligent dog, and how you have trained him!" said Lady Frances.

"Yes; he is almost human," replied Sylvia. "How nice this is!" she continued as the carriage began to roll smoothly away. She leant back against her comfortable cushions.

"But you will soon be cold, my dear, in that very thin jacket," said Lady Frances. "Let me wrap this warm fur cloak round you. Oh, yes, I insist; it would never do for you to catch cold while driving with me."

Sylvia submitted to the warm and comforting touch of the fur, and the smile on her young face grew brighter than ever.

"And now you must tell me all about yourself," said Lady Frances. "Do you know, I am quite curious about you-a girl like you living such a strange and lonely life!"

"Lady Frances," said Sylvia.

"Yes my dear; what?"

"I am going to say something which may not be quite polite, but I am obliged to say it. I cannot answer any of your questions; I cannot tell you anything about myself."

"Really?"

"Not because I mean to be rude, for in many ways I should like to confide in you; but it would not be honorable. Do you understand?"

"I certainly understand what honor means," said Lady Frances; "but whether a child like you is acting wisely in keeping up an unnecessary mystery is more than I can tell."