Название: Wild Heather
Автор: Meade L. T.
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
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"Whoever's she?" asked Buttons.
"I believe, Buttons," I said, dropping my voice, "that Aunt Penelope is really aunt to her, too, and she is coming on by the next train. She is very nice when she is not a cry-baby, and when she doesn't stick pins into you. She has a somewhat yellow complexion, so, of course, the yellow silk dress would suit her."
"Yes, miss, I am sure of that," said Buttons.
He took me so far that I began to get tired, and the sun was going down behind the hills when we returned to the town. We had very nearly reached the little house of Hill View when I remembered Daddy's half-crown, and that I had never bought a toy.
"It's too late to-day, miss," said Buttons, "but you can come out walking with me to-morrow and we can get it then."
I laughed.
"I can get it in London, I expect," I said. "London's a great big place. Oh, I do hope," I continued, "that I haven't been keeping darling Daddy waiting!"
When Buttons opened the little gate of Hill View I ran up the neatly-kept avenue and pounded with my hands on the glass panels of the door. It was Aunt Penelope herself who opened it.
"Where's Daddy?" I said. "Am I late? Oh, I hope I am not! And has Anastasia come?"
Aunt Penelope looked quite gentle. She took my hand and led me into the drawing-room. The drawing-room was bigger than the dining-room, but was still a very tiny room.
"Now, Heather," she said, "I have something to say to you."
"Where's Daddy? I want Daddy," I said. "Where is he?"
I began to tremble for fear of I did not know what. The terror of something hitherto unknown came over me.
"He sent you his best love and his good-bye, and he will come and see you again before he sails."
Aunt Penelope tried to speak kindly, although she had not by nature a kind voice. I stared at her with all my might and main.
"He went away without me?" I said.
"He had to, dear. Now, Heather, I can quite understand that this is a trial for you, but you've got to bear it. Your father will come and see you again before he returns to India, and meanwhile you are my little girl and will live with me."
I stood perfectly still, as though I were turned into stone. Aunt Penelope put out her hand to touch me, and just at that moment the parrot cried, "Stop knocking at the door!" Aunt Penelope tried to draw me towards her, she tried to lift me on to her knee.
"Come," she said, "come – be a good little girl. I shall try to be good to you."
I raised my hand and slapped her with extreme violence on the face.
"I hate you and all aunts, and I will never, never be good to you or to anyone!"
And then, somehow or other, I think I lost consciousness, for I cannot remember, even after this lapse of years, what immediately followed.
CHAPTER III
The next thing that I recall was also connected with that most terrible day. I was lying on a tiny bed, a sort of cot bed, in a very small room. There was a fire about the size of a pocket-handkerchief burning in the wee-est grate I have ever looked at. A woman was sitting by the fire with her back to me, the woman was knitting and moving her hands very rapidly. She wore a little cap on her head with long black lappets to it. I noticed how ugly the cap was and how ugly the woman herself looked as she sat and knitted by the fire. I suppose some little movement on my part caused her to turn round, for she came towards me and then I observed that it was Aunt Penelope.
"That's a good girl," she said; "you are better now, Heather."
A sort of instinct came over me at that moment. Instead of bursting into a storm of rage and tears, I stayed perfectly quiet. I looked her calmly in the face. I remembered every single thing that had happened. Father had gone, and I was left behind. I said, in a gentle tone:
"I am much better, Aunt Penelope."
"Come," said Aunt Penelope, speaking cheerfully, "you shall have some nice bread and milk presently, and then I will undress you myself and put you to bed. Lie quite quiet now like a good child, while I go down to prepare the bread and milk."
I made no answer, but lay still, my eyes fixed on her face. She turned and left the room.
The moment she had shut the door I sat up in bed. I had been acting a part. I was only eight years old, that is, eight years and a half, or very nearly so. Nevertheless, I was a consummate actress all the time Aunt Penelope was in the room. The instant she had gone I scrambled to my feet and slid off the little bed and stood upright on the floor. I saw the hat I had worn when I came from Southampton, lying on a chair, and also the little jacket. I further noticed with satisfaction that my boots were still on my feet. In a flash I had managed to button on my jacket and to slip the elastic of my hat under my thick hair, and then, with the half-crown which father had given me safely deposited in my pocket, I softly, very softly, opened my bedroom door. Oh, yes; I was acting splendidly! I was quite excited with the wonder of the thing, and this excitement kept me up for the time being. I heard Aunt Penelope's voice downstairs. She was saying something; her words reached me quite distinctly.
"Go at once to the chemist's, Jonas, and tell him to make up the prescription the doctor has given, and bring it back again as fast as ever you can. Wait for it until it is made up. The child is highly feverish, and must have the medicine at once."
Jonas said, "Yes, Miss Despard," and I heard the front door of the little house open and shut again. I also heard Aunt Penelope going away to the back part of the premises, and I further heard the shrill voice of the parrot, making use of his constant cry, "Stop knocking at the door!" Now was my opportunity.
I glided downstairs like a little ghost. I ran swiftly across the hall, I opened the front door – it was quite easy to open, for the door was a very small one – and then I let myself out. The next minute I was running down the street, running as fast as ever I could, and as far as possible from Hill View House. I had a distinct object in my mind. I did not mean to run away in the ordinary sense; my one sole desire was to go to the railway station to meet the train which would bring Anastasia. Father had said with his own lips that she would come by the next train. Of course, I had no idea where the railway station was. I felt that I must run as quickly as possible, for Jonas might see me, and although he was quite a kind boy, I did not want him to see me then. I hoped the chemist – whoever the chemist was – would keep him some time, and that the feverish person – whoever the feverish person was – would be kept waiting for whatever Jonas was fetching for that person. I did not meet Jonas, and I ran a long way. Presently I came bang up against a stout, red-faced woman, who said:
"Look out where you are going, little 'un."
I paused and looked into her face.
"Have I hurt you?" I asked.
The woman burst out laughing.
"My word!" she answered. "As if a mite like you would hurt me. Is it likely? And who are you, and where are you going?"
"I am going to the railway station to meet Anastasia," I said. Then I added, as a quick thought flashed through my mind, "Anastasia is my nurse, and she's coming by the next train. I will give you some money if you will take СКАЧАТЬ