Red Rose and Tiger Lily; Or, In a Wider World, L. T. Meade [digital book reader txt] 📗

Granger's bull-dog, and perhaps the bull himself may be in the four acre field; but you won't mind," continued Kitty.

"Not a bit, not a bit."

"Well, let's run down into this little dell. I'll start you from the wicket gate at the end of the dell."

"It sounds quite Pilgrim's Progressy," said Annie.

"Annie," said Kitty, in an ecstatic whisper, "is it to be a secret?"

"Of course; if you dare to reveal it my knight shall execute vengeance on you."

"Oh, Annie!" said Kitty, "I do love you; its so perfectly delicious to have a secret."

"Well, see you keep this one faithfully. Now we have come to the wicket gate. How shall I go? Can I see the bull from here?"

"No."

"Can I hear the bull-dog bark?"

"No."

"Kitty, you little wretch, you've been trying to [Pg 53]frighten me with imaginary dangers. Yes, I see my road. I follow the winding path wherever it leads. Keep a bit of dinner for me, Kitty. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Kitty promised, and Annie started with great vigour on her long walk.

Kitty stood at the stile and watched her. Suddenly she raised a cry.

"Annie."

Annie turned.

"You'll find Nell at home, too, Annie."

"Is Nell another Lorrimer?"

"Yes; the ugly one of the family; the duckling, we call her most times."

"Well, the duckling shall come, too," shouted heedless Annie; and Kitty, with the full weight and delirious importance of her secret radiating all over her stout little person, slowly returned to the other members of the picnic party.

CHAPTER VII. THE STORY BOOK LADY.

Annie found the road hot and the way long. As she said, she was a very good walker, and was never daunted by difficulties or dangers either real or imaginary. She was impressed by Boris's bright little face, and Kitty's story of his fidelity to the path of duty touched her quick and affectionate nature. Annie Forest, the grown-up girl, was very like Annie Forest, the child. She was still intensely impulsive, wayward, and eager. Her faults were in a great [Pg 54]manner subdued, but they were not eradicated. She was intensely affectionate, brave, and true as steel; but she was apt to be both heedless and thoughtless. When rushing away to rescue Boris, it never once entered into her head that the secret of her absence might prove very troublesome to poor Kitty, and that the rest of the party might suffer uneasiness on her account. Without any adventure from bull or bull-dog, without endangering her life in the bog, which turned out to be almost non-existent at this time of year, she reached the Towers at the most sultry time of the day, and appeared upon the scene between one and two o'clock, a tired, flushed, and very thirsty Annie. All during her walk she pictured Boris's state of despair. She saw in her mind's eye a vision of his little, flushed, tear-stained face. She thought of Nell, too, and imagined the rapture with which the ugly duckling would greet her, the deliverer of the oppressed.

Annie entered the Towers by a side entrance, and, skirting a pretty, shady lawn, approached the house by the nearest way. As she did so, she was attracted by voices which seemed to proceed from out of a clump of trees. She stepped close to the spot from where the sound proceeded, and, craning her neck, looked over the thick laurustinus bushes, which enclosed a very tiny lawn or plot of grass.

Seated here, in the utmost peace and apparent contentment, were the poor victims for whom she had exerted herself so terribly. Nell was lying full length on her back on the grass. Boris was seated tailorwise on the ground a little way off. Nell had a white rat curled up in her hair and another nestling in her neck. Boris was feeding some white hares and some [Pg 55]pet rabbits. The children were eagerly talking to their animals, and Annie had to own to herself that there was nothing in the least unhappy or even morbid in the sound of either of the voices.

For a moment the children's perfect happiness almost vexed her. It seemed provoking to have taken that long, exhausting walk for nothing, and oh! how hungry and thirsty, how very hungry and thirsty she felt.

The next instant, however, her good-nature asserted itself. She said "Hullo!" pushed her way through the laurustinus hedge, and stood in the midst of the group.

Nell started into a sitting position, tumbling the white rats on to her lap. She looked up at Annie. What a tumbled, dishevelled, hot, but oh, what a pretty strange lady was this! Nell worshipped beauty with the passion of a very hot and fervent little soul. She had scarcely noticed Annie in the schoolroom, but now her heart went out to her with a great throb.

"Who are you?" she said. "Where do you come from? What is your name?"

"Oh, I'm not a fairy, my good child!" said Annie. "I'm a poor, exhausted girl, who thought she was performing a very heroic feat and finds herself mistaken."

"Pray come in and take a seat," said Boris, who was always the soul of gentlemanly politeness. He stood up as he spoke, tumbling his rabbits and hares helter skelter in all directions, and tried to push back the laurustinus hedge for Annie. She squeezed through, tearing her cotton dress as she did so.

"Oh, dear, dear, your sweet dress is spoiled!" said Nell, in a tender voice.

[Pg 56]

"Never mind," answered Annie; "one must lose something to attain to this perfection."

"Won't you seat yourself?" said Boris.

He pointed to the grass, and Annie sat upon it with a sense of delight.

"How hot you are," said Nell. "What can we do for you? Would it soothe you to stroke one of the rats? This darling, for instance. His name is Crinklety."

Annie took the rat on her lap and looked at it reflectively.

"It's a darling," she said, "and so are the rabbits, and so are the hares; but oh, I'm so hot and so thirsty! and oh, children, don't you know what I've come about, and don't you know who I am?"

"No, I'm sure we don't," answered Boris. Nell stared solemnly; she did not speak.

"Well," said Annie, "I see I must introduce myself. I am Annie Forest. I'm Hester Thornton's friend, and I came here this morning with Hetty and Nan, and we all started on a picnic, and when we came to Friar's Wood, I found that you, Boris—you see I know your name—and you, Nell, were left behind, and I could not stand it somehow; it seemed too cruel and unfair, so I—I came back for you."

"How did you come?" asked Boris. "Did you drive back with Dobbin or Jacko?"

"No; they will have plenty to do this evening, and why should I give them double work, poor dears? No; I came back with these," she pushed out her dainty, but very dusty, feet as she spoke.

"You mean that you walked?" said Nell. "You walked all that long way just because of us two children that you knew nothing about. I didn't [Pg 57]believe it was true. I never believed anything so perfectly splendid could be true out of a story book. Boris, do you hear? She walked from Friar's Wood all by herself."

"Are you awfully dead beat?" asked Boris, standing in his sturdy attitude in front of Annie and looking at her with immense attention.

"Yes; I never was hotter in my life, and I don't think I ever felt more tired. It is such a blazing day."

"Then you don't want to walk back again?"

"Well, I suppose I must, only I think I'll rest a little bit first, and perhaps one of you can bring me a glass of water. I consulted Kitty about it, and Kitty said you could ride your brother's bicycle, Boris. She only told me about Nell just when I was starting, but perhaps Nell can get on the bicycle sometimes, too. I'm not quite sure how it can be managed."

"You need not trouble about me," said Nell, "for I'm not going to the picnic. I don't wish to."

"And I don't wish to either," said Boris; "there's nothing to go for now, for dinner will be over. I always think the fun of a picnic is washing the potatoes and lighting the bonfire, and they'll be all over long ago."

"Well, then," said Annie, "I see that I have made myself a martyr in an unnecessary cause. You bad children, you are not a bit unhappy at staying at home, and I pictured you both such miserable little victims."

"Would you rather have seen us miserable?" asked Boris.

"Of course I'd much rather have seen you miserable, you little wretch. How dare you look at me [Pg 58]with those smiling, bright blue eyes? If I had seen you and Nell pale and wretched, and a little bit withered up, I'd have felt that my walk had been taken for a good purpose; but now——"

"Perhaps you think," said Nell, looking at Annie with great earnestness, "that you did nothing when you took that walk and when you made the story books come true. You did a great deal for me. We are Lorrimers, Boris and I, and it isn't the fashion for a Lorrimer ever to fret when things can't be helped. Boris would have liked to go to the picnic, and I'd have liked it, too, if it had happened on another day, but as we couldn't go, we meant to have a picnic at home. Will you stay with us and help us to make up a jolly picnic at home?"

"Of course I will, only too gladly."

"Then, Boris," said Nell, "we had best fetch the food while the story book lady is resting."

The children disappeared, and Annie lay back on the grass and laughed to herself. She was absorbed as usual with the fascination of the moment, and forgot all about Kitty, who would be carefully guarding her secret far away in Friar's Wood.

The picnic, which was partaken of by Annie, Nell, and Boris on the tiny lawn, surrounded by the laurustinus hedge, was a truly gay affair. The white hares, the rabbits, the rats, joined the company of diners, and Annie became her gayest and wildest self. When dinner was over, Boris reluctantly took his pets back to the out-house where they were kept, and then returned once more to the fascination of strawberries, cream, and Annie Forest's society.

Meanwhile, in Friar's Wood, Kitty was keeping an eager look-out. It was almost time for Annie to [Pg 59]come back, and all the other members of the party who did not know where she had gone were becoming anxious about her. They would have been much more so but for Hester and Nan. But Hester and Nan were both well accustomed to Annie's many vagaries.

"If it were anyone else, I should fret about her," said Hester, answering Nora's eager inquiry for about the twentieth time. "She has wandered away in the wood by herself and will come back when she pleases, or perhaps she may have gone straight back to the Towers or to the Grange. Annie is grown up now, and she can take care of herself. There is no manner of use in fretting about her."

"If you only knew Annie at school!" exclaimed Nan. "Why there is quite a proverb about Annie at school. Let me see, this is it: 'The only thing to be expected of Annie Forest is the unexpected.' Now don't let's talk of her any more. She is a dear old Annie; but why should she spoil this lovely, perfect day, the first of my holidays? Guy, I wish you'd come and sit next me. Let us get up a jolly game of hide and seek."

"No," said Guy, "It's too hot at present. We will presently, when the sun gets a bit lower."

"Then tell me a story, there's a darling Guy."

Guy complied rather lazily. Nan moved a little apart with him, and the two began an eager, whispered conversation. Molly and Hester once more joined forces and resumed the interrupted talk of the morning. The others wandered away in different directions, and Nora and Kitty found themselves together. Nora felt rather discontented. She missed Annie Forest, not because she particularly liked her just now, but because Annie's conduct during their morning walk [Pg 60]had rather piqued her. Nora was quite sharp enough to read Kitty's secret in her troubled, demure, watchful and impatient eyes. She thought it would be rather good fun to bully Kitty a little.

"What are you staring through that long line of trees for?" she said. "Come here, and out with it at