Girls of the Forest Part 20

"Yes; and I'm as sorry as I can be about that burn; but if you'll be brave and plucky now, I'll help you all I can. We'll get up as soon as ever the day dawns, and cook shall put your arm straight."

As Nancy uttered the last words her voice dwindled to a whisper, and a minute later she was again sound asleep. But Pauline could not sleep. Her pain was too great. The summer light stole in by degrees, and by-and-by the sharp noise made by a shower of gravel was heard on the window.

Pauline sprang into a sitting posture, and Nancy rubbed her eyes.

"I'm dead with sleep," she said. "I could almost wish I hadn't brought you. Not but that I'm fond of you, as I think I've proved. We haven't yet made all our arrangements about the midnight picnic, but I have the most daring scheme in my head. You are every single one of you--bar Penelope, whom I can't bear--to come to that picnic. I'll make my final plans to-day, and I'll walk in the Forest to-morrow at six o'clock, just outside your wicket-gate. You will meet me, won't you?"

"But---- Oh! by the way, Nancy, please give me back that beautiful thimble. I'm so glad I remembered it! It belongs to Aunt Sophia."

"I can't," said Nancy, coloring, "I lent it to Becky, and I don't know where she has put it. I'll bring it with me to-morrow, so don't fuss. Now jump up, Paulie; we have no time to lose."

Accordingly Pauline got up, dressed herself--very awkwardly, it is true--and went downstairs, leaning on Nancy's sympathetic arm. Nancy consulted the cook, who was good-natured and red-faced.

"You have got a bad burn, miss," she said when she had examined Pauline's arm; "but I have got a famous plaster that heals up burns like anything.

I'll make your arm quite comfortable in a twinkling, miss."

This she proceeded to do, and before the treatment had been applied for half an hour a good deal of Pauline's acute pain had vanished.

"I feel better," she said, turning to Nancy. "I feel stronger and braver."

"You will feel still braver when you have had your cup of tea. And here's a nice hunch of cake. Put it into your pocket if you can't eat it now. We had best be going; the farm people may be about, and there's no saying--it's wonderful how secrets get into the air."

Pauline looked startled. She again took Nancy's hand, and they left the house together.

Now, it so happened that the the morning was by no means as fine as those lovely mornings that had preceded it. There was quite a cold wind blowing, and the sky was laden with clouds.

"We'll have rain to-day," said Nancy; "rain, and perhaps thunder. I feel thunder in the air, and I never was mistaken yet. We must be quick, or we'll both be drenched to the skin."

Accordingly the two walked quickly through the Forest path. But before they reached the wicket-gate the first mutterings of thunder were audible, and heavy drops of rain were falling.

"I must leave you now, Paulie," said Nancy, "for if I go any farther I'll be drenched to the skin. Climb up your tree, get into your bedroom, and go to bed. If you can manage to send that white dress over to me, I will put on a patch that even your aunt will not see. Put on another dress, of course, this morning, and say nothing about the burn. Good-bye, and good luck! I'll be over about six o'clock to-morrow evening to talk over our midnight picnic."

"And the thimble," said Pauline. "You won't forget the thimble."

"Not I. Good gracious, what a flash! You had best get home at once; and I must run for my life or I may be struck down under all these trees."

Pauline stood still for a minute, watching Nancy as she disappeared from view; then slowly and sadly she went up to the house.

She was too tired and depressed to mind very much that the rain was falling in showers, soaking her thin white muslin dress, and chilling her already tired and exhausted little frame. The rattle of the thunder, the bright flash of the lightning, and the heavy fall of the tempest could not reach the graver trouble which filled her heart. The way of transgressors had proved itself very hard for poor Pauline. She disliked the discomfort and misery she was enduring; but even now she was scarcely sorry that she had defied and disobeyed Aunt Sophia.

After a great deal of difficulty, and with some injury to her already injured arm, she managed to climb the beech-tree and so reach the gabled roof just under her attic window. She pushed the window wide open and got inside. How dear and sweet and fresh the little chamber appeared! How innocent and good was that little white bed, with its sheets still smoothly folded down! It took Pauline scarcely a minute to get into her night-dress, sweep her offending white dress into a neighboring cupboard, unlock the door, and put her head on her pillow. Oh, there was no place like home! It was better to be hungry at home, it was better to be in punishment at home, than to go away to however grand a place and however luxuriant a feast.

"And Nancy's home isn't grand," thought Pauline. "And the food was rough.

Aunt Sophia would even call it coa.r.s.e. But, oh, I was hungry! And if I hadn't been so naughty I'd have been very happy. All the same," she continued, thinking aloud, as was her fashion. "I won't go to that midnight picnic; and Renny must not go either. Of course, I can't tell Aunt Sophia what I did last night. I promised Nancy I wouldn't tell, and it wouldn't be fair; but see if I do anything wrong again! I'll work like a Briton at my lessons to-day. Oh, how badly my arm hurts! And what an awful noise the storm is making! The thunder rattles as though it would come through the roof. My arm does ache! Oh, what lightning! I think I'll put my head under the sheet."

Pauline did so, and notwithstanding the tempest, she had scarcely got down into the real warmth of her bed before sleep visited her.

When she awoke the storm was over, the sun was shining, and Verena was standing at the foot of her bed.

"Do get up, Paulie," she said. "How soundly you have slept! And your face is so flushed! And, oh, aren't you just starving? We only discovered last night that you hadn't touched any of your food."

"I'm all right," said Pauline.

"You will try to be good to-day, won't you, Paulie? You don't know how miserable I was without you, for you are my own special most darling chum. You will try, won't you?"

"Yes, I will try, of course," said Pauline. "Truly--truly, I will try."

CHAPTER XII.

CHANGED LIVES.

After the mental storm of the day before, Pauline would never forget the peace of the day that followed. For Miss Tredgold, having punished, and the hours of punishment being over, said nothing further to signify her displeasure. She received Pauline kindly when she appeared in the schoolroom. She took her hand and drew the little girl toward her. It was with a great effort that the poor girl could suppress the shriek that nearly rose to her lips as the unconscious Miss Tredgold touched her burnt arm.

"We will forget about yesterday, Pauline," said her aunt. "We will go back to work this morning just as though there never had been any yesterday. Do you understand?"

"I think so," said Pauline.

"Do you happen to know your lessons?"

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Well, my dear, as this is practically your first transgression, I am the last person to be over-hard. You can listen to your sisters this morning.

At preparation to-day you will doubtless do your best. Now go to your seat."

Pauline sat between Briar and Adelaide. Adelaide nestled up close to her, and Briar took the first opportunity to whisper:

"I am so glad you are back again, dear old Pauline! We had a horrid time without you yesterday."

"They none of them know what I did," thought Pauline; "and, of course, I meant to tell them. Not Aunt Sophia, but the girls. Yes, I meant to confide in the girls; but the atmosphere of peace is so nice that I do not care to disturb it. I will put off saying anything for the present.

It certainly is delightful to feel good again."

Lessons went on tranquilly. The girls had a time of delightful rest afterwards in the garden, and immediately after early dinner there came a surprise. Miss Tredgold said:

"My dear girls, there are several things you ought to learn besides mere book knowledge. I propose that you should be young country ladies whom no one will be ashamed to know. You must learn to dance properly, and to skate properly if there ever is any skating here. If not, we will go abroad for the purpose. But while you are in the Forest I intend you to have riding lessons and also driving lessons. A wagonette will be here at two o'clock, and we will all go for a long and delightful drive through the Forest. I am going to some stables about six or seven miles away, where I hear I can purchase some good horses and also some Forest ponies.

Don't look so excited, dears. I should be ashamed of any nieces of mine brought up in the New Forest of England who did not know how to manage horses."

"Oh, she really is a darling!" said Verena. "I never did for a single moment suppose that we should have had the chance of learning to drive."

"And to ride," said Pauline.

She began to skip about the lawn. Her spirits, naturally very high, returned.

"I feel quite happy again," she said.