A Modern Tomboy: A Story for Girls, L. T. Meade [ready to read books .txt] 📗

pew. But Rosamund could still see from where she sat the heads with the six green hats and the wealth of fair hair hanging below. She was full of interest, and altogether her thoughts were occupied first by the Professor and then with her neighbors.

By-and-by the rustle of a very rich silk caused her to turn her attention again to the outside world, and she observed a lady of about forty-five years of age, richly dressed in deep mourning, with a good deal of crape and a widow's bonnet, walking up the church. This lady entered a pew which she occupied all alone.

Then the choir, the rector, and the curate appeared, and the service began. It began, went on, and finished. Just as it came to a conclusion, Mrs. Merriman, bending towards Rosamund, said, "We will wait, if you please, until the rest of the congregation have dispersed. I am anxious to see Mr. Singleton, to ask him a question."

Rosamund wondered who Mr. Singleton was. But she was only too anxious to see her neighbors leaving the church, and was pleased at the idea of waiting.

The congregation filed down the centre aisle one by one, in orderly fashion, and the six little girls in their green costumes and their fair hair disappeared from view. The elderly governess primly followed, and then the lady in black silk also left her pew. But as she did so she paused and said something to the verger, who was in the aisle. Rosamund, whose eyes were fixed on her, noticed that the verger pointed to the pew in which she herself was sitting, and a minute later the lady came to the door of the pew and said something in a very low voice to Mrs. Merriman.

To Rosamund's amazement, Mrs. Merriman stretched out her hand across the pew and took one of hers.

"My dear, Lady Jane Ashleigh, an old friend of your mother's, wishes to see you. Will you go very quietly out, talk to her for a minute or two outside the church, and then wait for us in the porch?"

Rosamund obeyed, filled with the keenest interest. Lady Jane walked on in front, and Rosamund followed. They both entered the porch, whereupon the widow turned, grasped one of Rosamund's hands, and said, "If it were not church-time I should long to kiss you. I was a very, very great friend of your mother's. She wrote to me two days ago to say that you were coming to live here. I intended to call yesterday, but was prevented. I came to church to-day hoping to make your acquaintance. When will you come and see me? Can you come this afternoon?"

"Oh, indeed I can!" said Rosamund. "I remember mother quite well telling me about you. Your name used to be Lady Jane Stanisford, was it not?"

"Quite right, my dear. Oh, what a look you have of your mother! You must come and spend the rest of the day with me. You can come now; you can come in my carriage."

"Oh! I ought not to, for the others will be waiting for me."

"I will wait with you here. But no; I must hurry home at once. Then come this afternoon, and bring any one of your school friends that you like. I shall be glad to see you and to talk over old times. Dear Mrs. Merriman, she is a great friend of mine. Give her my love, and a message that you are to come and have tea with me, and supper, too. I will send you back to Sunnyside in my carriage late this evening. Good-bye for the present, dear."

It was a very beaming face that greeted Lucy and the rest of the party when, accompanied by Mr. Singleton (the father of the fair-haired girls, and the rector of the parish), they all appeared in the church porch. Lucy went straight up to Rosamund.

"What in the world are you smiling at?" she said. "You look as though you were thinking of something extremely funny; and it makes your face look so strange, not at all like the face of a person who has just been in church."

"Will you introduce me, Miss Lucy, to this young lady?" said Mr. Singleton's pleasant voice.

Lucy was obliged to comply. She muttered the introduction in a somewhat surly tone; but Mr. Singleton was by no means proof against Rosamund's bright and clever face, her smile, which was now quite charming, and her animated manner.

"You must come and spend a day with my little girls—that is, when you can obtain leave," he said.—"Ah, Mrs. Merriman! it will be very unlike you to be over strict with your young people. They must all come to the Rectory. When is your next half-holiday?"

"You must ask Miss Archer," said Mrs. Merriman.

Miss Archer replied that Wednesdays and Saturdays would be half-holidays, and Mr. Singleton clinched the invitation by asking the party to the Rectory for the following Wednesday.

On their way home Rosamund left Lucy's side, with whom she had been walking, and ran up to Mrs. Merriman.

"Lady Jane Ashleigh is a friend of mother's, and she has asked me to go to her after lunch to spend the rest of the day with her. May I go?"

"Not on Sundays, dear. We never allow our young people to pay visits on Sundays," said the professor, just turning his head and glancing kindly at Rosamund.

The smile vanished from her countenance. She colored high with annoyance.

"But I promised her I would go, and she is an old friend of mother's, and please may I go on this occasion?"

"I make a rule which cannot be broken, that no girls accept invitations for Sunday. That is the end of the matter."

He turned to speak to his wife, without giving Rosamund any further thought. He was feeling ill that day—worse than usual—and he did not notice the consternation, rage, and also determination which filled Rosamund's face. Lucy had not heard her words, but she exclaimed eagerly when the girl returned to her place among her school-fellows, "Well, what is it? What did Lady Jane say to you?"

"Oh, nothing—nothing particular."

"But you did seem so eager and pleased. You don't look at all pleased now."

"She said nothing in particular, really. How nice that field looks, with all that grass growing up so green after the haymaking."

"Oh, don't talk platitudes," said Lucy. She watched Rosamund narrowly.

By-and-by they reached the house. Rosamund went straight up to her own room. There such a wave of passion, anger, and revolt swept over her that she scarcely knew herself.

"I will go. I won't obey. Mother wrote to her about me. She is mother's friend. I will slip off and spend the day with her, and take the consequences, whatever they may be. I cannot stand those girls, and she is delightful! I win go to her, come what may."

Jane Denton did not understand Rosamund as she brushed her long hair and tidied herself for the early dinner.

CHAPTER VI. VISIT TO LADY JANE.

Rosamund made herself altogether charming during the ensuing meal. She was so clever that even Lucy's watchful eyes could detect nothing unusual about her. The professor was charmed with her intelligent remarks, her interest in the architecture of the very old church where they had just enjoyed the service, and her eagerness to acquire a more profound knowledge of church architecture in general. This was one of his own special hobbies, and he promised to lend Rosamund books on the subject, and even invited her to go into his library in the course of the afternoon to look at some illustrations which he thought would interest her.

"But I like to spend Sunday quietly and alone," said Rosamund, raising innocent eyes to the professor's face. "Will it matter if I come to see your illustrations and your books to-morrow?"

He gave her a paternal glance of almost affection.

"You shall certainly spend your Sunday as you like best, my dear," he said. "For my part, I love to see spirited and happy girls like yourself devoting themselves to periods of thought and meditation. In no other possible way can they attain to true knowledge of what Sunday means."

Jane Denton looked at her friend in some astonishment, but Rosamund calmly returned her gaze.

When the meal came to an end the girls scattered here and there, and Jane ran up to Rosamund to know what she meant to do.

"To stay quietly by myself," was Rosamund's answer, "so for goodness' sake don't interfere with me, Janey. I am going to my room, to begin with. I want to have a good long think, and——But don't question me, and keep the others away—won't you?—there's a dear."

Jane promised readily enough, and Rosamund went to her room. There from her window she watched the whole party disappearing in different directions: some to the neighboring woods, three girls together to the bank of the river, others with books into hammocks or cosy seats in the pretty garden. The two teachers had gone for a walk some miles into the country. The professor was in his study, where Mrs. Merriman kept him company.

"Now is my time," thought Rosamund.

She changed her dress for one of the prettiest she possessed—a pale-blue muslin, beautifully made. She put on a large, black, shady hat, and catching up her gloves and parasol, started on foot to Lady Jane's place. She had not an idea where to go, but trusted to find the way by making inquiries. Once she was safe out of the neighborhood of those odious girls, as she was pleased to call them, she thought all would be easy enough. She soon reached the high-road, which was far more dusty than she had anticipated, and did not suit her pretty patent-leather shoes.

Presently she met a girl on her way to Sunday-school in the village, and asked her the direct road to Lady Jane Ashleigh's.

"Oh, my!" was the girl's response; "won't you find Miss Irene in a tantrum this afternoon! Do you mean to say you are going there? And on Sunday, too!"

"Yes," said Rosamund, forgiving the girl's apparent impertinence on account of the interest which her remarks aroused. "But who is Miss Irene?"

"Lady Jane's daughter, bless you! Why, I live there as kitchen-maid, and I tell you the tantrums of that young lady is enough to upset the nerves of the stoutest person. I have come out now, and glad I am to be away. You are a strange young lady, I take it, from your appearance. You had best not go there if you want rest."

"But I am going there," was Rosamund's reply, "so please tell me how; and what is the name of Lady Jane's place, for she did not tell me?"

"Why, anybody here must know The Follies, and the place is true to its name as place can be. Oh, Lady Jane is well enough, but it is Miss Irene. Well, I wish you luck. You walk straight down this road for a mile or so, and turn in at the first gates you come to, and there you will be; and I 'opes you'll enjoy yourself."

The girl dropped a somewhat impertinent curtsy and marched on her way.

Rosamund also went on, feeling more interested and pleased than ever.

"Irene—what a pretty name!" she said to herself. "And from all accounts she seems to be what old people would call a difficult young person, and to young people she is doubtless delightful. Anyhow, I expect I shall have some fun; and as my absence is certain to be found out, and I am certain to get into a row when I go back to the horrid Merrimans', I may as well enjoy myself while I can."

So she hurried her footsteps, and presently found that the kitchen-maid at The Follies had given her correct instructions. There, directly before her, were massive gates leading into the winding avenue, sheltered by tall trees, beech and elm. The place looked cool and soothing. Oh, what a contrast it made to the hot and dusty road over which Rosamund had traveled! When she found herself inside she stepped on the grass in order to get some of the dust off her pretty patent shoes. She shook out her pale-blue muslin dress, arranged her hat becomingly, and went up the drive, looking as dainty and as unlike an-ordinary English school-girl as girl could look. She knew, the value of appearances, and was determined to make the best of them. Of course, her mother had told her much of Lady Jane. Lady Jane was her mother's greatest friend when they were both girls together; and when she had married a certain Mr. Ashleigh, a man of great wealth, although their acquaintance had very much dropped into the background, yet still the stories about the beautiful and willful Lady Jane had delighted Rosamund when she was a