CHAPTER XIV.
THE LOST PACKET.
After parting with Kitty, Miss Sherrard went back to the school. As shedid so, she said a few words to Miss Worrick. The result of this wasthat all the girls were summoned to appear in the great central hall.When there they were told very briefly--Miss Sherrard standing by herdesk as she spoke--that Miss Malone was in disgrace.
"Miss Malone has done something which obliges me to put her intoCoventry for a week," said the head-mistress. "Her schoolfellows areforbidden to have any intercourse with her. If she attempts to speak toany girl belonging to Middleton School, with the exception of AliceDenvers, in whose house she is living, that girl holds communicationwith her at her own peril. Such a girl stands a grave chance of beingexpelled from the school."
Miss Sherrard then descended from her platform, and the usual work ofthe morning went on.
It may easily be guessed that Kitty Malone, and Kitty Malone only, wasthe subject of conversation during recess. What had she done? Why wasMiss Sherrard so very severe on her? It was not often that a Middletongirl was given such a very terrible punishment. Alice who knew all aboutit, and Bessie, who knew a little, were therefore in immense request.Girls came up to these two in groups to find out what was the matter;and when they heard from Alice the very glaring account of what Kittyhad really done on the previous night, they listened with open mouths,giving vent to their feelings in different ways. The larger numberpronounced Kitty's conduct to be the height of all that was disgraceful.
"Is it true," said one, "that she really wore the college cap? Oh, whatwill Dr. Butler say if he finds it out? Alice, you cannot mean that shehad bare arms, bare from the elbows? Oh, impossible!"
"But Alice," said another, "tell me, did she really, really, knock oneof those horrid boys down?"
"Yes; like a ninepin, so Fred says," replied Alice. "Oh, it wasdisgraceful. Don't talk of it any more; my cheeks burn whenever I thinkof it."
"But after all, Alice"--said Gwin, who came up at that moment. Gwin'stone sounded quiet, stately, penetrating; it rose above the din whichthe other girls were making. "After all, Alice, don't you think that youwere to blame too? Why did you not let Kitty get into your room andhers? If she wanted to go for a walk it was surely natural enough to askfor her hat and jacket; you refused to give them to her."
"Of course I refused," said Alice, who did not at all wish to share anyof poor Kitty's blame. "Kitty knew perfectly well that she was breakingone of the school rules as well as one of our home rules by going out atsuch an hour--it was between nine and ten o'clock. As to her goingwithout her hat and jacket, such an idea never entered my wildestdreams. No; bad as I thought Kitty, I did not think her bad enough forthat. There is no excuse for her. She is well punished, and for my partI cannot but rejoice."
"For my part," said Gwin gravely, "I am extremely sorry. I like Kitty; Ilike her much. She has her faults of course; she is different from anyof the rest of us; she is wild and daring and eccentric; but she is alsothe soul of honesty and candor. She is very affectionate and verygenerous. She has not been brought up in the least as we have been.Things we think wrong are not considered wrong by Kitty Malone. As sheherself expresses it, she is a little bit wild. Oh, I am sorry for her,dreadfully sorry; and I think Miss Sherrard has been too severe. Iwonder at Miss Sherrard. I thought she understood Kitty. She spoke tomother so kindly about her yesterday; she said there was a great deal ofgood in the Irish girl, as she called her; and also said that she wasvery glad that I was her friend. Although Miss Sherrard does not knowany of the rules of the Tug-of-war Society, she naturally knows that wehave formed it. She told me that she could not express how pleased shewas at our having asked Kitty to become a member. Girls, I wish I couldspeak to Miss Sherrard. I think I will. It will break Kitty's heart tobe kept in Coventry for a week."
"I doubt if she has a heart," said Alice. "It is all very fine to talkof her affectionate ways; for my part I call them nothing but impetuous.She is vain, conceited, and selfish; and provided she gets her own waydoes not care what prejudices she rides roughshod over. Oh, I have nopatience with her."
"But," said Bessie Challoner, who was standing stolidly by, lookingvery determined and very quiet, "what did Kitty want out at that hour?Kitty with all her faults, would not break the rules unless she had astrong motive. What could have been the matter?"
"And why did she want to see you, Elma?" said Gwin. "Can you throw anylight on the subject?"
Elma colored first and then turned pale. Several pairs of eyes wereimmediately fixed on her; one girl looked at the other, and a few noddedsignificantly. Elma observed the looks and turned away in hot fear.
"I don't know what she wanted with me," she muttered.
The rest of the school hours passed as usual, and just before dinner,when the great school broke up for the day, Kitty was still the subjectfor conversation. Gwin lingered a little behind the others, and Bessiestopped to ask why she was doing so.
"I have almost made up my mind," she said, "to plead with Miss Sherrardfor Kitty."
"Oh Gwin; how noble of you. I respect you, I do from my heart; but Itell you what. Would it not be better for us to do something of thissort? Why should not all the Tug-of-war girls plead for her? That wouldseem more effective and stronger, would it not? Suppose we wrote aletter, a sort of round-robin, and sent it to Miss Sherrard, begging ofher to forgive Kitty this time; and taking upon ourselves theresponsibility of her future conduct. Oh, I say, Gwin, could we not doit?"
"It is a splendid thought," said Gwin; "much--much better than mytalking to Miss Sherrard alone. Look here, Bessie; could we not manageto have a meeting of the Tug-of-war at my house this evening? Oh,there's Elma; I'll ask her at once. Elma come here."
Elma who was just shouldering her books preparatory to leaving theschool, turned when she heard Gwin's voice.
"What is it, Gwin?" she asked; her manner was a little nervous.
Gwin hastily repeated Bessie's daring suggestion.
"Oh, I'll come of course," said Elma; but there was a certain amount ofapathy in her tone.
"And I will secure Alice; I am getting quite to dislike Alice, though,"said Bessie.
Gwin promised to write to the other girls at once, and it was finallyarranged that a meeting should be held at Harley Grove that eveningbetween four and five o'clock.
Elma walked home alone, musing much over the aspect of affairs.
"I wonder what Kitty did want with me," she said to herself. "Doubtlessit had something to do with that money. Kitty was in despair, so itseems. Oh, there's Fred Denvers; perhaps he can tell me something?Hullo, Fred!"
Elma stopped; Fred was on his way from college; he was whistling a gayair, and did not see Elma until he had almost reached her side.
"Hullo, Elma," he answered; "how are you?"
"Oh, I am very well, Fred, thank you; but have you heard about KittyMalone?"
"How everybody does cry out Kitty Malone; it will soon be sung by thebirds in the air," said Fred; "Kitty Malone! Kitty Malone! What's thematter with her now?"
"Oh, she has got into the most awful scrape; of course you know whatoccurred last night?"
"Rather!" said Fred. "I was with her. I say, Elma, she is about thepluckiest girl I ever met. Didn't she hit out straight from theshoulder; and didn't that fellow go down like a ninepin! I don't believehe is able to see out of his eye to-day. Why, that little hand of hersis as hard as iron. Who taught her the art of boxing like that? She's aborn fencer! She's a splendid girl. I never met any one like her."
Elma did not feel so much annoyed at this praise of Kitty as Alice wouldhave been; but all the same it was scarcely gratifying to her. Afterreflecting for a moment, during which Fred was preparing to continue hisswinging pace toward his home, she said suddenly: "But where was shegoing, Fred?"
Fred's big blue eyes lit up with a sudden light of intelligence.
"What a fool I am!" he said. "You perhaps can throw light on thismystery. She wanted to see you, Elma.
I cannot imagine what about. Youknow how fond she is of her brother Laurie? Well, it seems that Lauriegot into some sort of scrape; and Kitty, poor girl, she was in a wayabout it; fretting like any thing, and she said no one could help herbut you. Can you tell me what she wanted with you? She was in a rarehurry to get to your house."
"Of course I cannot tell," answered Elma. "Who could be responsible forthe vagaries of Kitty Malone? I thought I would ask you. I thoughtperhaps you would know. Of course they are talking about it at school,and they are wondering what I can have to do with it. It is anything butpleasant for me I can tell you."
"Oh, you'll manage well enough; you'll fight your own battles. Well,what have they done with her at the school? You look quite mysterious."
"I forgot I had never mentioned it to you. They have sent her toCoventry; Miss Sherrard has done it. We are none of us to speak to herfor a week."
"Whew!" said Fred, rounding his lips for a prolonged whistle. "Well,that won't bother Kitty much; I don't suppose talking to you would bemuch of a loss to her."
"But you don't understand, Fred. It's the disgrace, and Gwin Harleythinks it will break her heart; and--But I must not tell you any more; Imust hurry home."
"Poor Kitty! Anyhow, there's no embargo put on my talking to her," saidFred to himself. "Poor old Kit, poor old girl; I'll make it up to her ifI can."
Fred ran home as fast as he could, and Elma continued her way.
"There's no doubt of it," she said to herself; "she wants that money.She will manage, Coventry or not, to ask for it. She promised mefaithfully that she would never tell that I borrowed it from her; but,being an Irish girl, she is scarcely likely to keep her word. Now thatshe is in trouble for some unknown cause, she is certain to blab itout. Did she not say herself that she could never keep a secret? Ohdear, what an awful mess I have got into. If it gets to be known that Iborrowed eight pounds from Kitty I shall be expelled. If there is a rulethat the Middleton governors are strict about, it is that by which thegirls are forbidden to borrow money from one another; and eight poundsis such a large, large sum. All my future will be ruined if this isknown. I had better give her back all the money that is left, and atonce. It would be the safest plan. I can at any rate let her have sevensovereigns; and perhaps if she has that, she will not say anythingwhatever about the matter. How miserable I shall feel without it; butanything, anything is better than the dreadful fact getting to MissSherrard's ears that I broke one of the strictest rules of the school,and borrowed eight pounds from Kitty. The Tug-of-war Society would neveragain have anything to do with me. I should have the poorest chance ofremaining in the school. It would get to Aunt Charlotte's ears. Yes,yes; all my future depends on keeping this thing dark. I must get rid ofthat dreadful money as quickly as possible. I thought my luck was goingto turn; but it is far too good to be true that I might keep such alarge sum of money safely. Poor Kitty! yes of course, I'm sorry for her;but she is certain to tell on me. She would think nothing of getting meinto the most terrible scrape. I--I am bound to think of myself first."
At this point in her meditations Elma reached the house in ConstantineRoad. She ran up the steps, let herself in with a latchkey, and wentstraight to her room. She opened the drawer where she kept Kitty'sprecious sovereigns and put in her hand to take out the little paperparcel. More than once since she had possessed this money had Elmaexamined that little packet, getting up early in the morning to gloatover it, looking at it the last thing at night; but always taking carethat Carrie should be sound asleep. It gave her comfort, the comfortalmost of a miser to gaze at her gold. She used to forget at thesesupreme moments that the gold was in reality not hers at all. She usedto forget everything but the delightful sense of possession. She felt asif she could never spend the money, as if she must hoard it and hoard itjust for the mere pleasure of looking at it. She knew the exact cornerof the drawer where she kept it; no one ever dared to meddle with Elma'sdrawers. She kept the rest of the family more or less in awe of her. Asto Maggie, she was honest as the day. But what was the matter? Search asshe would she could not find the precious little packet. She lookedfrantically here, there, and everywhere. Soon she had removed the drawerfrom its case and had tumbled all the contents on her bed. Nowhere wasthe money to be found. Elma's face turned white as a sheet. She trembledfrom head to foot. In the midst of her meditations Carrie entered theroom.
"My dear Elma, what is the matter?" she cried.
A glance had shown her what was really wrong. A smile crossed her face.She walked deliberately across the room and flung herself on her bed.
"How hot it is," she said with a pant.
"Dear me, Carrie, why are you so incorrigibly lazy?" said Elma. "Notthat I care--I am in dreadful trouble I------"
"You look like it," said Carrie. "What is the matter?"
"I am looking for some money."
"Money? What money are you likely to have?"
"Well, it so happens that I have some--a good deal. Carrie have you seenit?"
"Have I seen what?" asked Carrie in a provokingly drawling voice.
"Why, my money. How did you think I got that dress, that dress which youare racking through at such a furious pace?"
Carrie was attired in the pale blue nun's-veiling. It was Carrie's wayto have a dress and to wear it morning, noon, and night, destroying allits freshness. The nun's-veiling was already dirty and draggled-looking.
"How do you think I got that dress that you made such a fuss about if Ihad not money to pay for it?"
"I am sure I couldn't tell, and what's more, I didn't care," saidCarrie. "What is vexing you now, Elma? Oh! what a commotion you aremaking in your poor drawer!"
"I have just lost seven sovereigns and--Carrie, I see by your face thatyou do know something about it. Is it possible that you stole themoney?"
"How dare you accuse me of such a thing?" said Carrie, flaring up inapparently most righteous indignation--- in reality she was enjoyingherself immensely. She had made up her mind not to tell Elma the truthat present. By and by she would tell, after she had well frightened hersister, but certainly not yet.
"I know nothing whatever about it," she said, caring little for the liewhich she was telling. "I am sorry you have lost it; but how did you getit?"
Elma was silent, shutting up her lips tightly. The dinner-gong sounded,and the girls went down to their midday meal.
Carrie soon perceived that Elma was in real trouble. With all her low,idle, careless, and unprincipled ways, at the bottom of her heart shewas fond of her sister. She made up her mind to visit Sam Raynes thatevening and get him to return the money.
"Poor old Elma," she said to herself. "I don't want to be too hard onher. It is not the fun I expected when she looks at me with suchmiserable eyes. It would certainly not do for her to get talking toMaggie."
"You leave the matter to me. I may have a clue," she said, when dinnerwas over. "But rest assured on one point, Maggie has nothing to do withit, nor has mother."
Here Carrie ran upstairs, to put on her things preparatory to returningto her pupils.
Elma was now alone. The hour was three o'clock. At half-past four shewas to meet Gwin Harley and the rest of the Tug-of-War girls. In themeantime she knew she could not possibly have any peace of mind untilthe seven sovereigns were discovered.
Mrs. Lewis had gone up as usual to her room to lie down. She had aheadache and was in very low spirits. Elma glanced at her once or twiceand determined not to worry her; but Maggie she considered her lawfulprey. She had given Carrie no promise, and felt sure that Maggie andCarrie between them were at the bottom of the mystery. She determined togo into the kitchen and terrify Maggie into confession.
That young woman was busy giving sundry touches to the charming toquewith which she intended to electrify her young man on the followingSunday.
"Maggie," said Elma, "I wish to speak to you."
"Oh lor! miss, how you startled me," cried Maggie. She jumped up as shespoke, dropping Kitty's violets to the floor. They were so n
atural, sobeautiful, so exactly like the real flowers, that more than one girl hadremarked upon them, and among these had been Elma. As they lay on theby-no-means-too-clean kitchen floor, she stooped now to pick them up.
"Where did you get these?" she asked in a sharp voice.
"Oh, Miss Helma, they're mine, and you have no right to 'em," was thequick reply.
"Where did you get them, Maggie? You're a bad girl; you must have stolenthem."
"I steal 'em! I like that," said Maggie, turning first crimson and thenvery white. "They was give to me by the young Irish lady."
"By Miss Malone, Miss Kitty Malone?"
"Yes, miss; the prettiest young lady I ever clapped eyes on; she give'em to me herself."
"Look here, Maggie," said Elma, "the violets don't matter. Let us talkof something else. Do you know anything about some money which I keep inmy drawer upstairs? Now look me straight in the eyes. I miss that money,and you know I can call in the police and have your boxes searched. Doyou know anything about it? If you'll tell me the truth I'll be mercifulto you. Last night I had seven sovereigns in my drawer, but now they aregone. Did you touch them, Maggie? Tell me the truth and at once."
"I touch your money, miss! I didn't know you had any, that I didn't."
Poor Maggie's face was a study. Perplexity, despair, indignation sweptover it in a sort of terror.
"Miss Helma, you're cruel to talk to me like that," she cried. "Me touchyour money! No, that I didn't. Oh, miss, is it the money Miss Malonecome about? Is it gone?"
A wild hope flashed through Elma's brain, to be discarded the nextmoment. Could Kitty have come to the house and visited her room andtaken away her own money herself?
"What do you mean about Miss Malone?" she cried.
"She come here miss. Oh, Miss Helma, don't look at me so scornfully. Shecame here yesterday and asked for you and when I told her you was outshe writ a letter, and said you was to have it the moment you come in,and that it was as important as the Bank of England. Yes, that shedid--and she laid it on the blotter in the dining-room. She was theprettiest young lady I ever set eyes on, and she took them violets outof her cap and give them to me. She was in an awful way, and said shewanted to see you on a most important matter. I don't know what shewrote in the letter; but it may have been about the money, miss."
"Of course it was about the money," said Elma, who felt more and moreuncomfortable each moment; "but where is the letter, Maggie? Why did Inot get it?"
"You ask Miss Carrie that, miss. She come in, and--. Oh, but I mustn'ttell any more."
"But you must and shall," said Elma. She took hold of Maggie fiercely byher arm, dragged her forward to the light, and looked her full in theeyes. "Now, tell me every single thing you know, or I'll summon thepolice this moment," she said.
Thus adjured, Maggie fell on her knees and made an ample confession.