Polly: A New-Fashioned Girl, L. T. Meade [unputdownable books txt] 📗

flew down the long gallery which led to Dr. Maybright’s room, and went in.

Dr. Strong had paid his visit and gone away. Firefly’s heart gave a bound of delight, for her father was alone. He was lying supported high in bed with pillows. His almost sightless eyes were not bandaged, they were simply closed; his hands, with their long, sensitive, purposeful fingers lay on the white sheets in a restful attitude. Already the acute hearing of the blind had come to him, and as Firefly glided up to the bedside, he turned his head quickly. Her two small hands went with a kind of bound into one of his. His fingers closed over them.

“This is my Fly,” said the Doctor; “a very excited and feverish Fly, too. How these small fingers flutter! What is it, my darling?”

“A kiss, father,” said Fly, “a great hug of a kiss! please, please. I want it so awfully badly.”

“Climb up on the bed, and put your arms round me. Is that all right? My dear little one, you are not well.”

“I’m quite well, now, while I’m loving you. Oh! aren’t you just the darlingest of all darling fathers? There, another kiss; and another! Now I’m better.”

She glided off the bed, pressed two long, last fervent embraces on the Doctor’s white hand, and rushed out of the room.[Pg 156]

“I’m lots stronger now,” she said to herself. “Whatever happens, I’ll have those kisses to hold on to and remember; but nothing shall happen, for I’m going to find David; he is sure to put things right for me.”

Meanwhile, Polly’s absence from her room was accounted for, also the fact of Fly finding her father alone. It was seldom that this dearly loved and favorite father, physician, and friend, was left to indulge in solitude. It was the privilege of all privileges to sit by him, read to him, and listen to his talk; and a girl, generally two girls, occupied the coveted chairs by his bedside. On this morning, however, poor Helen was detained, first by Aunt Maria, and then by necessary housekeeping cares; and Polly and Flower were deeply engrossed over a matter of considerable importance.

When Polly had replied in the negative to Helen’s question, she lingered for a moment in the passage outside the morning-room, then started off to find Nurse and little Pearl. Flower, however, waited with a feeling of curiosity, or perhaps something more, to hear what the others would say. She was witness, therefore, through the open door, of Firefly’s curious mixture of avowal and denial, and when Mrs. Cameron went away to consult the doctor who attended Dr. Maybright, she coolly waited in an adjoining room, and when the good woman returned, once more placed herself within earshot. No Maybright would dream of eavesdropping, but Flower’s upbringing had been decidedly lax with regard to this and other matters.

In full possession, therefore, of the facts of the catastrophe which was to overpower poor little Fly and injure Dr. Maybright, she rushed off to find Polly. Polly was feeling intensely happy, playing with and fondling her sweet little baby sister, when Flower, pale and excited, rushed into the room. Nurse, who had not yet forgiven Flower, turned her back upon the young lady, and hummed audibly. Flower, however, was far too much absorbed to heed her.

“Listen, Polly! you have got to come with me at once. Give baby back to Nurse. You must come with me directly.”

“If it is anything more about Scorpion, I refuse to stir,” answered Polly. “If there is a creature in this world whom I absolutely loathe, it’s that detestable little animal!”

“You don’t hate him more than I do,” said Flower. “My news is about him. Still, you must come, for it also means Firefly and your father. They’ll both get into awful trouble—I know they will—if we don’t save them.”

“What?” said Polly; “what? Take baby, please, Nurse. Now, what is it, Flower?” pulling her outside the nursery door. “What has that horrid Scorpion to do with Fly and father?”

“Only this: Fly has confessed that she knows what has become of him, but she’s a dear little brick and won’t tell. She says she’s a Maybright, and they don’t tell lies. Three cheers for the Maybrights, if they are all like Fly, say I![Pg 157] Well, the little love won’t tell, and Mrs. Cameron is fit to dance, and what does she do but gets leave from Dr. Strong to see your father, and she’s going to drag Fly before him at three o’clock to-day, and make a fine story of what happened. She holds it over Fly that your father will be made very ill again. Very likely he will, if we don’t prevent it.”

“It’s horrible!” said Polly; “but how can we prevent it, Flower?”

“Oh, easily enough. You must guard your father’s room. Let no one in under any pretense whatever until I have found David.”

“What do you mean by finding David? What can David have to say to it?”

“Oh! has he not? Poor Fly! David has got her into his toils. David is at the bottom of all this, I am convinced. I guessed it the moment I saw him go up so boldly to Mrs. Cameron and pretend to be sorry about the dog. He sorry about Scorpion! He hates him more than any of us.”

“But then—I don’t understand; if that is so, David told a deliberate lie, Flower.”

Flower colored.

“We have not been brought up like the Maybrights,” she said. “Oh, yes, we could tell a lie; we were not brought up to be particular about good things, or to avoid bad things. We were brought up—well, just anyhow.”

Polly stole up to Flower and kissed her.

“I am glad you have come to learn of my father,” she said. “Now do tell me what we are to do for poor, poor Fly. Do you think David is guilty, and that he has got Fly to promise not to tell?”

“Yes, that is what I think. David must be found, and got to confess, and so release Fly of her promise before three o’clock. David is a dreadful boy to find when he takes it into his head to hide on purpose; but I must look for him, and in the meantime will you guard your father, Polly?”

“As a dragon,” said Polly. “You may trust me about that at least. I will go to his room at once to make all things safe, for there is really no trusting Aunt Maria when she has a scheme of vengeance with regard to that dog in her head. Good-by, Flower; I’m off to father.”

Polly turned away, and Flower ran quickly downstairs. She knew she had not a moment to lose, for David, as she expressed it, was a very difficult boy to find when he took it into his head to hide himself.

Flower had not been on the moor since that dreadful day when she had taken the baby away. So much had happened since then, so many dreadful things had come to pass, that she shuddered at the bare thought of the great and desolate moorland. Nevertheless she guessed that David would hide there, and without a moment’s hesitation turned her steps in the direction of Peg-Top Moor. She had walked for nearly half an hour, and had reached rather a broad extent of[Pg 158] table-land, when she saw—their little figures plainly visible against the sky—two children, nearly a quarter of a mile away, eagerly talking together. There was not the least doubt as to their identity; the children—a boy and a girl—were David and Fly. Fly was holding David’s arm, and gesticulating and talking eagerly; David’s head was turned away. Flower quickened her steps almost into a run. If only she could reach the two before they parted; above all things, if she could reach them before David saw her!

Alas and alas! she was too late for this. David suddenly pushed his little companion a couple of feet away from him, and to all appearance vanished into the solid ground.

Fly, crying bitterly, began to run to meet Flower. Flower held out her arms as the little girl approached.

“What is it, Firefly? Tell me, has David confessed?”

“Oh, what do you know about it, Flower? Oh, what am I to do, what am I to do?”

“You are to go quietly home,” said Flower, speaking in a voice of authority. “You are to go quietly home, and leave this matter in my hands. I know all about it, and just what David has done. He has bound you by a sort of oath, you poor little thing—you dear, brave little thing! Never mind, Fly; you leave David to me. I expect I shall find him now—that is, if you don’t keep me too long talking. Go home, and leave matters to me.”

“But Flower—Flower, you do comfort me a little; but Flower, it will soon be three o’clock, and then—and then—oh, dear father! Oh, it is so dreadful!”

“No, you silly mite; it is not dreadful at all. Polly is in charge of the Doctor. She is sitting with him now, and the door is locked, and the key is in Polly’s pocket, and she has promised me not to open that door to any one—no, Fly, not to a hundred of your Aunt Marias—until I bring David home.”

Fly’s face underwent a transformation. Her big eyes looked full up into Flower’s. A smile flitted across her quivering lips. With a sudden, passionate gesture, she stooped down and kissed Flower’s fingers, then ran obediently back in the direction of Sleepy Hollow.

“She is a perfect little darling!” said Flower to herself. “If Master David does not rue it for making her suffer, my name is not Flower Dalrymple.”

She ran on swiftly. She was always very quick and light in her movements. Soon she came to the place where David had to all appearance disappeared. She did not stay there long. She ran on to where the bracken grew thick and long, then suddenly lay flat down on the ground, and pressed her ear close to Mother Earth. What she heard did not satisfy her. She rose again, repeating the same process several times. Suddenly her eyes brightened; she raised her head, and listened attentively, then she whistled a long peculiar note. There was no answer, but Flower’s face retained its watchful, intent expression. She laid her head down once more close to the ground, and began to speak, “David, David, I know you are there; there is no use in your hiding. Come here, I want you, I, Flower. I will give you two minutes, David; if you don’t come then I’ll keep the threat I made when you made me angry with you at Ballarat.”

A perfect silence followed Flower’s words. She still lay flat on the ground. One of the minutes flew by.

“I’ll keep my word, David!” she said again. “You know me; you know what my threat means. Three-quarters of a minute more, half a minute, then I’ll go home, and I’ll do what I said I would do when you made me angry at Ballarat.”

Again there was silence, but this time quickly broken; a boy’s black head appeared above the bracken, a little brown hand was held out, and David, without troubling himself to move a hair’s breadth, looked full into his sister’s face.

“I don’t want to lose you, Flower!” he said. “You are the only person in all the world I care two-pence about. Now what’s the row?”

“You’re a cowardly boy, David, and I’m ashamed of you; come with me this minute.”