heartily wished that Fanchon wastwo years younger and five years stupider, and even a little more ugly;but, such as she was, she must make the best of her.
"Of course," continued Fanchon, who seemed to divine her governess'thoughts, "if you really think that I told a wicked story, I can go tofather now and tell him that I made a mistake, and that the boxcontained your blue silk dress, and--and--other things of yours--and notthe jam pots. Shall I, Brenda? shall I?"
"You goosey! you goosey!" said Brenda. She squeezed Fanchon's arm andbegan to pace up and down the terrace walk with her pupil by her side."You know," she said, lowering her voice and speaking in the mostconfiding and enthralling way, "you are older than the others, and I canconfide in you. It is wrong to tell lies--very, very wrong--andwhatever possessed you, you silly girl, to think of jam pots? I am surenothing was further from our heads on that auspicious day. But I don'twant your dear father to see the dress that I am going to the fete in,and I will tell you why."
"Please do," said Fanchon, "for to tell the truth, Brenda, neither Nina,nor Josephine, nor I understand you always."
"Well, dears, is it likely that you should? I am, let me see, betweentwenty-two and twenty-three years of age, although I don't look it byany means."
"I don't know what that age looks like, so can't say," was Fanchon'sremark.
"Well, dear--it is a very beautiful age, and very young. It is the agewhen a girl comes--so to speak--to her prime, and when she thinks of--of,"--Brenda lowered her voice--"getting married."
"Oh!" said Fanchon, colouring crimson. "You don't mean to say--"
"I don't mean to say anything at all, I have nothing to confide, sodon't imagine it for a single moment. But at the seaside, where the gaypeople will be, and the band will play, and there'll be no end of teaout of doors and all sorts of fun of one sort and another, it may happenthat--that--somebody _may_ see your Brenda and--oh, Fanchon, need I sayany more!"
"I don't suppose you need," was Fanchon's answer. She felt immenselyflattered.
"Think what it would mean to me," continued Brenda. "A prince mightcome along, who would fall in love with the beggar maid."
"But you--with your blue silk dress, to be called a beggar maid! Thatname might suit poor Nina, who can't have flounces, even, to her pinkmuslin dress that only cost sixpence three farthings a yard."
Brenda was startled at Fanchon's memory with regard to the price of themuslin.
"No," continued that young lady, "you're not a bit like the beggarmaid."
"Ah, but--my dear girl--I am the beggar maid, and I am waiting for theking to come along who will raise me to sit on his throne, and--infact--I am going to whisper a _great_ secret to you, Fanchon--"
"What is it?" said Fanchon, who was at once fretful and disgusted,overpowered with curiosity, and yet heartily wishing that Brenda wouldnot confide in her.
"Well--I will tell you," said Brenda. "I have been left a littlemoney--just the _merest_ little trifle, and I am spending a little of iton my blue silk, and I don't want any one to know but just my owndarling Fanchon; my eldest pupil--who loves me so well! Perhaps, my_cherie_, I may buy you a pretty gift out of some of the money. What doyou say to a little gold bracelet--a bangle, I mean?"
Brenda remembered that she could get a silver gilt bracelet for a coupleof shillings at a shop she knew of at Rocheford, and that it would beworth her while to purchase Fanchon's sympathy at that price.
"Oh--but I should love it!" said the young lady, looking at her sunburntand badly formed wrist.
"The bangle would give you good style," said Brenda. "Well, we'll saynothing about it now--but--well, as I have given you my confidence, youwon't repeat it."
"I suppose not, but I do want to see your blue silk."
"All right, you shall, but not the others--I draw the line at theothers. You can slip out of bed to-night and come to me, and I will putit on and show myself. I am going away early in the morning before anyof you are up."
"But I am certain father will be up, for he said so, and he's going tolet you in afterwards."
Brenda considered for a moment--
"I can't help his letting me in, but he shan't see me off," shesaid--"no one need do that. Well, now--go and join your sisters. Go tobed at the usual hour, and come to me at ten o'clock; then I will put onthe dress and you shall judge of the effect."
The thought of seeing the wonderful dress and of possessing a real goldbangle were two circumstances enough to turn the slight brain of FanchonAmberley. She did not confide to her sisters what her conversation hadbeen, and managed that evening to elude them and to present herself atBrenda's door as the clock struck ten. The other two were sound asleep,so she had little difficulty in getting away from them, and, as Brendawas on the watch, she let her pupil in at once, immediately locking thedoor as soon as Fanchon got inside.
"Now then," she said, "you just hop on to my bed, for I don't want youto catch cold. See--here's the dress."
Madame Declasse was really an excellent dressmaker, and the pale bluesilk would have looked lovely to any eyes, but the unaccustomed ones ofFanchon Amberley fairly blinked as they gazed at it.
"I never imagined anything so lovely!" she cried. "But you must put iton--you promised."
Brenda obeyed. She was gratified by the curious mixture of vanity andgreed, envy and admiration which filled poor Fanchon's face, and sheattired herself, not only in the dress, which gave her little figuresuch a "chic" appearance, but also put on the white hat and the daintywhite lace scarf, and drew the long white gloves upon her slender arms.Finally, she slipped into the white serge coat which was to cover thefinery, lest the Reverend Josiah should catch sight of it.
"He won't see me to-morrow morning," she said, "and when I come back inthe evening, he'll think that I am wearing a cotton dress underneath theserge. There now, Fanchon, you have seen everything, and you may restsatisfied that I shall have plenty to tell you when I return."
"I am bewildered," said Fanchon. "Of course you look beautiful; ofcourse the prince or the king, whenever either of them comes along, willfall in love with you, for you look like a princess or a queen yourself!I wish I were beautiful too. I hate--yes--I _hate_ being ugly!" andthe poor child gave a sob of pain and disappointment.
"Now listen, Fanchon. You won't be ugly when you are grown up. Itdoesn't matter a bit how you look now, for you are only a little girl.What you have to do now is to help me all you can, and then, when youcome to be eighteen or nineteen years of age--I will help you, _petite_,and get you a good husband, and drew you in the colours that will makeyou look--oh--marvellous! Keep me as your friend and you will be a wiselittle girl: do the reverse, and you will rue it."
Fanchon shed a few more tears, but finally yielded to Brenda'sseductions and clasped her arms round her neck and kissed that youngperson's cool cheek with her own hot lips; then went to bed to dream ofthat wonderful vision in blue silk and the prince who was surely goingto find her.
The next morning, at a very early hour, Brenda took her departure,having successfully avoided the Reverend Josiah, who had gone to bedwith the full intention of getting up to see his dear young governessoff and to tell her that he would assuredly sit up and have somethinghot for supper when she came back in the evening. He had not yetthanked her for her consideration in buying the jam pots.
"The dear girl must have got them out of her own money," he said tohimself. "She really is a treasure, and I am so fond of gooseberry jam.One can have so few indulgences--what with the sick of the parish andmy very small stipend. But when I think of that poor young creature,and of what she is doing for me and my children, I cannot be toothankful. I will certainly thank her in suitable words when shereturns, and I will see her off in the morning."
But, alack and alas! the Reverend Josiah was tired, for he had had avery long and fatiguing day, and Brenda's footsteps were light as thefalling of snow, and she had left the house and gone out to the stablesand got the pony put to the cart. She had also awake
ned Jock--universally known as "the boy," and had given him fourpence to drive herto Harroway station. All these things had been done, and Brenda wasaway--yes, away for her day's holiday before the Reverend Josiah openedhis eyes on that summer morning.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
BREAK-UP DAY.
Nothing at all happened to Brenda of the least importance during herjourney to Hazlitt Chase. She went second-class as far as Rocheford.There she changed for first-class, for she had every intention of doingthe thing in style.
When she arrived at the