The Girls and I Part 5

I was very sorry for her, and I was vexed with myself for having begun about it at the dancing cla.s.s just when Anne might have forgotten it a little.

'If--just _supposing_ Mrs. Barry thought it was it, she'd very likely send a note round to say; Rodney Square is quite near us,' said Hebe, who always thought of something cheering to say.

'Rodney Square,' Anne repeated, 'yes, that's close to here.'

For by this time we were almost at our own house.

Miss Stirling said good-bye to us as soon as the door was opened, and we all five went in together.

Mother was out; we knew she was, but yet it seemed rather dull to be told she hadn't come in. I always think it's dreadfully dull to come home and find one's mother out.

I didn't go upstairs. I had some lessons to finish, though it was Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and so had Hebe, because you see we'd been longer at the dancing than if we'd just gone a walk. So we two went straight into the schoolroom, and Hebe took off her hat and jacket and put them down on a chair. The other three went on upstairs, and we didn't think any more about them.

What happened when they got up to the nursery we heard afterwards. Nurse was not there, and the room was rather dark.

'Why isn't the gas lighted?' said Maud. 'It looks so dull,' and she ran out of the room and down the pa.s.sage to nurse's own room, calling out, 'Nurse, nurse, where are you? We've come in.'

Maud was very fond of nurse, and of course being the youngest she was nurse's pet. She's married now--our old nurse, I mean. She left us last Christmas, and we've got a schoolroom-maid instead, who doesn't pet Maud at all of course, but I don't think Maud minds.

'Nurse, where are you?' she called out.

Nurse was in her room; she had a fire, and she was ironing some things.

'Come in here, dearie,' she answered. 'I didn't think it was so late.

I'll have done in a moment, and then I'll light the gas and see about tea.'

So Maud went in to nurse's room and began telling her about the dancing.

And thus Anne and Serena were left by themselves in the half-dark nursery.

Anne stood staring in the fire for a minute without speaking. All this, you understand, they told us afterwards.

'Won't you come and take your things off, Anne?' said Serry.

But, instead of answering, Anne asked her another question.

'Do you know the number of the Barrys' house in Rodney Square?' it was.

'No,' said Serena. 'But I know the house. It is a corner one, and it has blue and white flower-boxes. What do you want to know about it for?'

Anne looked round--no, there was no sign of nurse; she and Serena were alone.

'Serry,' she said in a whisper, 'I've thought of something,' and then she went on to tell Serry what it was.

That's all I'll tell just now; the rest will come soon. Till you try, you've no idea how difficult it is to tell a story--or even not a regular story, just an account of simple things that really happened--at all properly. The bits of it get so mixed. It's like a tangle of thread--the ends you don't want keep coming up the wrong way, and putting themselves in front of the others. I must just go on as well as I can, and put down the things as straight as they'll come.

Well, Hebe and I had about finished the lessons we wanted to get done.

It was partly that Monday was going to be mother's birthday, and we wanted to have a clear evening. Hebe and I always agree about things like that; we like to look forward and arrange comfortably. Well, we had just about finished, and I was getting up to begin putting away the books, when the door opened and nurse came in looking just the least little bit vexed. For she is good-natured.

She glanced round the room before she spoke, as if she was looking for some one not there.

'The child's right,' she said, as if speaking to herself. 'I must say she generally is. Master Jack,' she went on, 'and Miss Hebe, my dears, tea's ready. But where are Miss Warwick and Miss Serry?'

We stared.

'Anne and Serry,' I said. 'I'm sure I don't know. Upstairs, I suppose.

They went straight up with Maudie when we came in, ever so long ago.'

'But indeed they're not upstairs,' said nurse, her face growing very uneasy. 'That's what Miss Maud said too. She saw them go into the nursery when she ran along to my room. But they are not there, nor in any of the bedrooms; I've looked everywhere, and called too.'

'They may be reading in the little drawing-room,' I said, and both Hebe and I jumped up to go and help nurse in her search. She had not thought of the drawing-room, knowing mother had not come in.

'Have they taken off their hats and jackets?' asked Hebe.

Nurse shook her head.

'I've not seen them anywhere about, and Miss Anne and Miss Serry are not young ladies that ever think of putting away their out-door things as you do sometimes, Miss Hebe.'

Hebe hung back a little. We were following nurse upstairs.

'Jack,' she whispered,'do you know, while you and I were busy in the schoolroom, I am sure I heard the front door shut. I hadn't heard the bell ring, and I wondered for a moment why Alfred was opening when no one had rung. But, you see, it may have been some one going out. Jack, _do_ you think Anne and Serry can have gone out by themselves?'

'They'd never do such a thing,' I said. 'Why, it's almost quite dark, and they know mother would be really very angry if they did!'

But Hebe did not seem satisfied.

'The door was shut _very_ softly,' she said.

We were at the drawing-room by this time. There was no light in the two big rooms, but there were two lamps in the little one where mums sits when she's alone. No sign of Anne or Serena, however. And no sign of them in the other rooms either. Alfred brought up a candle, and we called to them to come out if they were hiding, and said we were really frightened; but there was no answer.

'They can't be there,' said nurse; 'Miss Anne has far too kind a heart not to come out, even if they had begun by playing a trick on me. Come up to the nursery, my dears, and have your tea. I'll go down and speak to Mr. Barstow. Maybe he can throw some light on it.'

'They must have gone out, nurse,' I said boldly. There was no use not telling her all we knew.

She turned upon me quite sharply.

'_Gone out_, Master Jack? Nonsense, Miss Anne is far too good and obedient to do such a wild thing, knowing how it would displease your dear mamma too.'

But Maud, whom we met on the staircase, suddenly thought of an explanation of the mystery.

'Come in here,' she said, pulling us all three into the nursery and closing the door. 'Listen, I do believe I know where they've gone. It's about the diamond brooch. I believe Anne's gone to those children's house where they've found a brooch that might be it.'

Hebe and I jumped.

'I believe you're right, Maud,' I said.

'How stupid of us not to have thought of it!' exclaimed Hebe.

But nurse, of course, only stared.