L. T. Meade

“ Ermengarde, be blamed? Would suspicion attach to her? Would her father discover how deceitfully she had behaved?
"He would send me straight home if he knew it," thought Ermie. "Oh, what a lot of scrapes I've been getting into lately! What with Susy and the miniature, and Miss Nelson and Basil, and now this horrid mean Flora? Oh dear, oh dear? I'm sure I'm not a bit happy. I wish I could get straight somehow, only it's hopeless. I seem to get deeper and deeper into a dark wood every day. Oh dear! there is nothing whatever for me but to hope that things won't be found out." ”

“ I says what I means, and when I see a poor dear put upon, and treated worse than a baby, and punished as if we were back in feudal ages, I say that the one who does it is a horror. You think the same, Miss Ermie, though you're too proud to say it."
"We don't express ourselves in that way in our class," said Ermengarde, with a slow distinguished sort of smile which always abashed Susy. "Yes, Miss Nelson is very suitable with the children, but I do think I am beyond her. I am old for my years, and no one can call fourteen young." ”

“ Here we are; enter, fair and welcome guest! Oh, you must stoop your tall head a little, Ermie. Pride must bend when it enters a humble grotto like mine. Now then, look around you."
Ermengarde was feeling tired, hot, and thirsty. She had hoped to have been treated to nice grown-up tea in one of the drawing-rooms, and she felt just a little annoyed at being carried off at once to look at Lilias's stupid shells, or to behold the most charming grotto that was ever built. Ermengarde had no love for natural history, and fond as she was of Lilias, she felt just a wee bit cross. ”

“ Miss Nelson went back to the schoolroom.
"You can have your holiday, children," she said. "Ermengarde cannot come, nor am I at liberty to explain her absence. No, Basil; you must not ask me. You must be happy without your sister to-day, and trust that what is right is being done for her. Now, about the picnic. Maggie, come here, my love. You shall take a message to cook."
"You'll come too, won't you, Miss Nelson?" asked Marjorie.
"I must, my dear. I could not allow wild young creatures like you to embark on such an expedition without me." ”

“ Basil wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone do such a shabby, shabby, cruel, mean thing as to take away Miss Nelson's dear picture. O Ermie, I thought you at least loved Basil more than anybody, more even than I love him."
"Yes, I do," said Ermengarde; "I love him more than anybody else in the world. Now Maggie, if you don't mind leaving the room, as you happen to be dressed, I'll get up."
"Yes," answered Marjorie, "I'll go away at once." She trotted out of the room. ”

“ I feel inclined for a game with the young ones. What do you say?"
"I say that the sun has come out, and I am as happy as the day is long," replied Marjorie. "Give me another kiss, please, father. Lucy, is that you? Father is coming to have a romp with us all. Just one minute, please, father. I must go and tell Miss Nelson the good news."
"What a blessed, happy, dear little thing Maggie is!" thought Mr. Wilton as, holding Lucy's hand, he walked slowly to the nursery playground. "She's more like her mother than any of them. Yes, this may be a lesson to Ermengarde. Poor child, I hope so." ”

“ If your mother were alive, all would be different. Well, child, well, I'll see what can be done when the time comes; I want you to help me, of course, when the time comes; that is, if you have the real stuff in you, if you are a true Wilton. All the women of our house are women of honor."
"Honor?" repeated Ermengarde vaguely.
"Yes. Truthful, and above-board, and brave. Marjorie is a Wilton, every inch of her. Hullo! the train is in, and there come my scamps. Well, Basil, here you are, sir—and Master Eric, too! Sorry to be home, eh? I make no doubt you are. ”

“ It is astonishing how soon the mind, when angry, can establish within itself a fixed idea. Miss Nelson had said nothing to really draw suspicion on Marjorie, and yet Ermengarde was now thoroughly convinced that the little girl had been the one to tell of her misdemeanor. She did not trouble herself to examine proofs. All Marjorie's amiable and good-natured ways were as nothing to Ermengarde then. She had certainly told, and as long as she lived Ermie would never forgive her. ”

“ Leger's tone was full of delicious sympathy, and when the next [220] moment she slipped her arm round the little girl's waist, Ermie experienced quite a thrill of delight.
"I have fallen in love with you, that's a fact," said Miss St. Leger; "but now, about that picnic; you don't really want to go?"
"Oh, yes, Flora. Lilias is going to drive me in her pony-carriage."
"Lilias! Let her take a child like herself. You ought to be with the grown-ups."
"Everyone treats me exactly as if I were a child," said Ermengarde. "I do think it's a great shame, for I don't feel in the least like one." ”

“ Wilton was so little awe-inspiring, and such a genuinely pleasant, witty, affectionate father that Ermengarde's spirits rose. She forgot her disobedience, that horrible lie which fear had wrung from her lips ceased to trouble her, and she chatted quite gayly to her father.
"Why, Ermie, what a big girl you are growing," he said presently, "and how well you [8] express yourself! You will be quite a companion to me when you come out." ”

“ Marjorie, as usual, was trotting from chair to chair, helping everyone, pushing the butter nearer to little Mollie, the youngest schoolroom child, stopping Bobby's rebellious lips with strawberries, and lugging a great jug of milk in her arms, and with a red face, and chubby hands that would tremble under their load, refilling mugs of milk as fast as they got empty.
"That will do now, Marjorie; you can sit down," called out Miss Nelson.
Marjorie subsided at once into a seat beside Eric.
"Ermengarde," said her governess, glancing quickly at her eldest pupil; "you are late again for tea. ”

“ Basil, whom I always supposed to be the soul of honor, has behaved with wanton cruelty toward a lady who was your mother's friend, whom I respect, and who has been placed more or less in authority over you all. Not a word, Ermengarde. Basil has as good as confessed his guilt, and I can only say that my old opinion of him can never be restored. Then, I take you away on a visit, and Maggie comes to fetch you home, because, forsooth, the gamekeeper's daughter with whom I have forbidden you to have any intercourse is feverish, and wants to have a conversation with you. Nonsense, Ermie! ”

“ Ermengarde hated to be called a child. She disliked her Aunt Elizabeth's manner to her at all times, and now she flushed and frowned, and looked decidedly unamiable.
"Come, Basil," she said, touching her brother on his arm.
"No, miss, you're not to go with that cross face on," said her aunt. "Look pleasant, or I shall desire Miss Nelson on no account to permit you to drive with your father again. What is it, Roderick? What's the matter?"
"Leave the poor child alone," said Mr. Wilton. "Run away, chicks, both of you; run off and be happy. ”

“ Well, my dear, we have all come back, and on your account. Basil pleaded very hard for you. He certainly is a dear fellow; I don't wonder you love him, my dear. He pleaded for you, Ermengarde, and I—my love, I have yielded to his request. I have come back to say that I forgive you, Ermie. You will try to obey me in future, my dear child, and this punishment, owing to Basil's intercession, may be considered at an end. We are all going to have tea in the hay-field, and you are to join us there. Run up to your room, dear, and put on your brown holland frock. ”

“ The sun was pouring into the room; the clock on the mantelpiece pointed to six.
Softly, very softly, Marjorie poked her pink toes from under the bedclothes. Then the whole of her feet appeared, then she stood upright on the floor. No one should help her over her toilet this morning; she would dress, and go out into the garden. The boys were at home; it was going to be a brilliant day. Marjorie's contented heart danced within her. She washed and dressed herself with expedition. It was not necessary to be particularly quiet, for nothing ever disturbed Ermengarde's slumbers. ”

“ She had quite forgiven Flora's unkind words for the sake of her flattering words. Flora had said the sort of things that Susy had often regaled her with before, but how much more important were the honeyed speeches coming from the lips of this grown-up and beautiful young lady. Ermengarde felt herself quite in love with Flora. Poor Lilias was nothing, compared to the friend she had just made. She was glad to know that Flora was going to spend a couple of days at Glendower. ”

“ Miss Nelson and her pupil reached the hay-field, and then ensued a scamper, a rush. Marjorie, Eric, Basil, Lucy, all crowded round their sister. They were unfeignedly delighted to have her with them, and Ermie could not but reflect how happy she would now be but for Susy.
"We are going to have such a time," said Marjorie. "After tea we are going to build a hayrick, quite in a new way. It's to be hollow inside, like a room, and pointed at the top, with a hole to let the air in, and—why, what's the matter, Ermie? You look as white as anything. ”

“ She was really awfully tired, for the day had been a hot one, and nurse had a headache, and Clara, the nursery-maid, was away on a holiday. So Marjorie had scarcely breathing time all day long. Now she was going to bed, and the poor little girl looked rather limp and abject as she crept along the passage to her room.
"I do hope Ermie is having a jolly time," she murmured to herself. "I can just fancy how delicious it is at Glendower now. It is such a beautiful, perfect place, just hanging over the sea. And there's going to be a moon. And the moon will shine on the sea, and make it silver." ”

“ Are you Miss Wilton? I think you must be. My mother knows your father very well."
"And your name is Flora something?" answered Ermengarde, looking up with proud defiance in her face. "And you were speaking about me to a girl called Kate, and you abused my dress, and said that I was a little piece of gorgeousness, and that I was only twelve years old. I am not twelve—I am fourteen and three months." ”

“ As to Ermengarde, I will believe her promises when she has proved them to be worth anything. She is the first Wilton I ever heard of who stooped to deceit. In the meantime I feel it is my duty to punish you, Ermengarde. This morning I had a letter from the Russells—Lily Russell's father and mother. They have asked me to come to them for a week, and to bring two of you with me. I intended to take you and Basil. Now I shall take Marjorie and Basil. Perhaps, when you are having a dull time at home, you will reflect that it is not always worth while to disobey your father. ”

“ Do you know who she is, Miss Ermengarde?"
"No," said Ermengarde. "But I think there's a story about that picture. Marjorie knows. Marjorie has a way of poking and prying into everything. She's awfully inquisitive. I don't interest myself in matters in which I have no concern. Now come over and sit by the window, Susy. You must sit back, so that no one can see us from the grounds; and when Hudson brings my dinner, you must dart into that cupboard just behind us." ”

“ It's a much nicer word than father, and all our fellows say it. You think it isn't respectful because you're an ignorant girl, Maggie, but Julius Cæsar used to say pater when he was young, so I suppose I may."
"Father looks very handsome in his sleep," said Marjorie, turning her head on one side, and looking sentimentally at her parent.
"He doesn't," said Eric. "He looks much better with his eyes open. Oh, I say, I can't stand this! The morning will go, and we'll never get our water-lilies. Father, wake up! Father, it's your birthday! Don't you hear us? ”

“ Ermengarde was away from all unpleasant things, her fears about Flora were completely removed, and it was in her selfish and pleasure-loving nature to shut herself away from the memory of what worried her, and to enter fully into the delights of her present life. She rose gayly, and no one could have been merrier than she when she joined Lilias at the breakfast-table. The two girls had this meal again alone in Lilias Russell's pretty boudoir.
"Shall we ride, or go out in the yacht?" said Lilias to her companion. ”

“ Miss Nelson looked up at his tone.
"Basil," she said, "when you have very few [79] things to love, you value the few intensely. I did—I do. You don't know, my boy, what it is to be a lonely woman. May you never understand my feelings. The miniature is gone; it was stolen, purposely."
"Oh, we'll find the thief," said Basil. "If you are sure the picture was taken, we'll make no end of a fuss, and my father will help. Of course you must not lose anything you value in this house. You shall have it back; we'll all see to that."
"Thank you, Basil; I'm sure you'll do your best." ”

“ Ermengarde's bright eyes were fixed on him; she guessed his thoughts. Basil had often walked under those elm trees with his mother.
Mr. Wilton had opened the Times, and was not attending to the chatter of the young folk.
"You don't look quite the thing, Ermie," said Basil in a low voice.
"I'm perfectly well," she replied.
"But you turned quite white that time at the lodge. I noticed it. That time when Marjorie wanted you to get out. Have you been worrying yourself lately? You know you are such a girl to mope, and make mountains out of mole-hills. School would be the place for you." ”

“ Lilias ran out of the room, and Ermengarde, closing the door, opened a long drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe, and taking out her white chiffon dress, viewed it with great complacency. This dress had been given to Ermengarde by Aunt Elizabeth; she had brought it from Paris, intending to wear it at a county ball herself, but finding it too juvenile, she had handed it on to her niece. The local dressmaker had cut it down to fit Ermengarde, and ever since she possessed it, Ermie had sighed and longed for the occasion when she might don the lovely robe. ”