Wild Kitty, L. T. Meade [namjoon book recommendations TXT] 📗

briefly propose to do is this: Kitty Malone is in trouble. As a member of the Tug-of-war Society, the rest of the society is bound to support her. I am most anxious that she should get all the support in our power. She is not like any of us; she has been differently brought up. What she did last night was the result of impetuosity and overzeal. She was troubled about her brother, and for some extraordinary reason thought that Elma could help her. Elma, can you throw any light on the matter?"

"None whatever," answered Elma in a stout voice.

"She went out with the college cap on and without her jacket, and for that reason some rough, rude boys talked to her, and she knocked one of them down in trying to defend herself, and so got into a terrible scrape. Miss Worrick, it seems, witnessed the transaction, and she told Miss Sherrard. Miss Sherrard was very much annoyed, and has put Kitty into Coventry for a week. We are none of us allowed, on pain of instant dismissal, to speak to her. Now, my proposal is this; that we write a little petition, and each of us sign it, and then that I take it to Miss Sherrard. I want to ask Miss Sherrard to allow the members of the Tug-of-war Society to speak to Kitty. I want to ask her to allow us all to do our best during her week's punishment to show her that this wild and erratic way will not go down in England; I want her to allow us to do our utmost by kindness to overcome Kitty's wild nature. I have scarcely any doubt, girls, that Miss Sherrard will approve of our scheme."

"Well, I for one approve of it most heartily," said Bessie Challoner. "I believe severity would ruin a girl like Kitty. You cannot drive her; she must be led."

"Thank you, Bessie. I knew you would feel with me. And now, girls, I will put this thing to the vote. All who are in favor of the scheme hold up their hands."

The Forbes girls looked tremblingly, with flushed cheeks and glittering eyes, at Elma and Alice. Their hands went half up and then dropped again into their laps. It was the fear of their father's displeasure which prevented their going altogether with Gwin. The Hodson girls immediately held up their hands; but Alice, Elma, Matilda, and Jessie plainly showed that they did not mean to sign the petition.

"Is this possible?" said Gwin in a vexed voice. "I surely thought there was not—Elma, you must be at the head of this. What is your reason for not joining us?"

Alice looked as if she were about to speak; but Elma jumped at once to her feet.

"I don't join you because I do not agree with you, dear Gwin. I believe Miss Sherrard knows a great deal better than we do what is good for a girl. I am certain she will be much annoyed by our interfering; and for my part I think a week in Coventry will do Kitty Malone no harm."

"I am surprised and disappointed in you, Elma," said Gwin, "Alice, what is your feeling?"

"Oh, I absolutely agree with Elma," said Alice. "I think it would be a rare comfort to take any means to subdue and crush out of sight, even for one week, that most obnoxious person Kitty Malone. The unfortunate part is that I shall have to do with her even during her week in Coventry."

"But surely," said Gwin, in some astonishment, "you two Forbes girls can have nothing to say against Kitty. It cannot injure you in any way that we should plead for the mitigation of her punishment."

"Well, the fact is this," said Jessie, standing up as she spoke, and looking very miserable. "Father is most particular; he is almost faddy, you know, Gwin—and if he ever heard that a girl from the school did exactly what Kitty did last night—I mean that she went out so late against rules, and was dressed in such a queer way, and was obliged to knock down a rude boy in order to protect herself—why, I think he would take us from school. Then if father also heard that we had gone against Miss Sherrard's authority, we—Oh, I cannot say it exactly as I ought; but Gwin, I would rather not sign that paper."

"All right," answered Gwin in some vexation.

"Then my scheme falls through. Four against and four for. We have only one other member of the Tug-of-war except poor Kitty herself, and she, I am afraid, cannot come, as she is ill with a bad cold. Well, I shall see Miss Sherrard alone and must take my chance."

"Yes, if you please; that would be much the best plan," said Jessie, sinking down into her seat with a sigh of relief.

Soon afterward the little party at Gwin Harley's house separated. There was a feeling of restraint over them which Gwin's guests seldom experienced. They were not at one. It was impossible to talk any longer on the subject with which their hearts were full. Gwin was anxious to prepare the exact arguments she intended to use with Miss Sherrard. She looked relieved when Elma made the first move of departure. Alice jumped up also with alacrity.

"Good-by Gwin," she said. "I think you are doing wrong to interfered in this matter. A little punishment will do Kitty Malone no more harm than it does any other girl. Of course it's not pleasant; punishment never is. Good-by; take my advice and allow Kitty Malone to shift for herself."

Gwin made no reply at all to this. She gave Alice a cold nod, and the four girls who now formed the opposition left the house.

"Good-by to all chance of my friendship with Gwin," said Jessie Forbes rather miserably as they walked up the avenue.

"Oh, never mind, Jessie, you did the right thing," said Alice. "What is the good of toadying? I hate toadies. If you are ever to become a friend of Gwin Harley's you will see that she hates them also, although, perhaps I am wrong to say that." Here she glanced somewhat significantly at Elma. Elma colored and turned her head aside.

When they reached the top of the avenue the girls turned each to go their several ways. Elma hurried home as fast as she could.

"I must get that money by hook or by crook this evening," she said to herself. "I wonder where Carrie has hidden it. Bad as she is, she would certainly not steal it from me. Oh, it is safe of course, and I must get it and manage to convey it to Kitty to-night, and then as far as I am concerned I don't care how soon the poor thing gets out of Coventry."

When Elma reached home the first person she saw was Carrie. Carrie was standing on the steps of the shabby little villa in Constantine Road talking to a fiery-haired young man.

Elma never condescended to have anything to do with Raynes. Giving him a very cold nod now, she was about to enter the house when Carrie caught her arm and stopped her.

"Why don't you speak to Sam?" she said. "Sam, this is my sister, Elma."

"How do you do?" said Elma. "I am sorry I cannot wait now; I want to see mother."

"There's no use in your going in if it's mother you want," pursued Carrie. "She has gone out for the evening. Mrs. Duncan has asked her to tea. I am glad of it. A little change will do her good."

"I won't keep you now, Car," said Raynes, turning to Carrie and giving her a somewhat clumsy nod. He looked askance at Elma, and the next moment had clattered down the steps, and, turning the corner, was out of sight.

"What a creature!" said Elma. "I wonder you have anything to do with him, Carrie. I think, even for my sake, seeing that Aunt Charlotte is doing so much for me—"

"Now stop that," said Carrie; "I won't have a word of abuse against Sam. He suits me very well. I'm not a fine lady, and I never mean to be a fine lady. I shall be very comfortable as his wife some day, and I don't want you to abuse him. Whether you like him or not, he is going to be your brother-in-law and—Why, Elma, how tired you look!"

"I am tired and worried, and I want to speak to you," said Elma.

"To speak to me?" answered Carrie, a little alarm coming into her voice in spite of herself. "What for? Anything special? Are you prepared to make me a present of another dress; I could do with a white one now the weather is getting so very hot, and Sam would like me in white. White with pink ribbons would be a change, or mauve—mauve ribbons look so sweetly cool with white."

"I am not going to listen to any of your nonsense," said Elma. "I want to ask you a straight question. Where is my money?"

"Your money? What do you mean?"

"What I say. I have heard the whole story from Maggie, and I can bring her as a witness. You have put that money in hiding, and I want it at once. There, Carrie, like a dear old soul, do own up. Let me have the money without any more delay. Of course you have not stolen it. I know you have not; but you have hidden it. I wish you would give it back now. If I can't return it to its rightful owner to-night I shall get into worse trouble. Do let me have the money back."

Carrie's face also now became pale.

"I wish I could," she said in a frightened voice. "Do you mean to say that you really want it back?"

"Why, of course. You haven't spent it? Oh, if you have I am ruined—ruined for life."

"No, I have not spent it; but the fact is I—What a little wretch that
Maggie was to tell!"

"She couldn't help herself; I made her. Now, speak out, Carrie. Oh, we need not go indoors. Where is the money? Please, please, Carrie, let me have it at once."

Elma's troubled face, her trembling hands, the anxiety depicted all over her nervous little figure, could not but show Carrie that there was something serious in the wind.

"Well," she said, "I am awfully sorry. I—I just did it in a fit of mischief. I read that letter which Kitty Malone wrote to you, and it seemed to throw light on some of your actions which had puzzled me of late. I went to your drawer and found the money, and thought I would give it to Sam to keep for you."

"To Sam Raynes?" cried Elma, backing a few steps, her voice assuming a tone of terror.

"Yes. Do be careful, Elma, or you'll fall right down into the area. Why shouldn't I lend it to Sam Raynes?"

"Lend it?"

"Well, well, it's all the same; I asked him to keep it for me."

"I'll go to him at once and get it," said Elma, preparing to run down the steps.

Carrie caught her by the arm.

"I'm awfully sorry," she said, "but it's no use, he—he says we cannot have it for a week, perhaps a fortnight. He is doing a little deal with it, as he expresses it. He says perhaps we'll have it back doubled."

"What can you mean, Carrie?" Elma knew nothing whatever about speculation. That will-o'-the-wisp which leads so many astray had not yet entered into her life.

"You need not look so miserable. Won't you like to have it back again, not seven pounds but fourteen? and Sam says this will probably be the case in a week or a fortnight, or at any rate in a month from now."

Elma threw up her hand in despair.

"If I have to wait a month for the money," she said, "I may as well never have it. Oh Carrie, what have you done? You have ruined me, ruined me! Carrie, I cannot lead a low, common life like yours; I am not fit for it. Oh, Aunt Charlotte will never do anything more for me after this. Kitty wants the money, and I cannot give it to her. Oh, Carrie, to think that you should have ruined my life!"

Poor Elma covered her face with her trembling hands and went into the house. She entered the shabby little sitting-room and sank into