hester was a good deal astonished that same day, when, just before dinner, annie forest came up to her with a request.
"i don't want to dine here to-night," she said. "i want to go to the towers to have a good long talk with molly."
"but, really, annie," replied hester, "is it necessary for you to go to-night? i did not know—i mean i did not think that—that you and molly——"
"that we were special friends?" interrupted annie. "oh, yes, we are quite friendly enough for the little talk i mean to have. you'll spare me, won't you, hetty, and if molly offers me a bed, i'll sleep there and be back quite early in the morning."
"i can't refuse you, of course," said hester, "but that won't prevent my missing you. it will be rather a dreadful dinner party, with only mrs. bernard temple and antonia and that dreadful, sleepy susy. you are so full of tact and so bright, annie, that you generally make matters go off fairly well. but to-night there won't be anyone to stem the current. oh, dear, i do trust that antonia won't talk too much high art."
as hester spoke, she looked at her friend with an expression of great anxiety on her face. under ordinary circumstances this look would have completely overmastered annie, who would immediately [pg 235]have yielded up her own wishes to please hester, but now she remained quite obdurate.
"i am sure you will manage very well," she said, in an almost hard voice for her. "you know, hetty, you won't always have me, and you will have mrs. bernard temple and antonia."
"it is too dreadful," sighed hester. "when my father thought of marrying again, why did he not think of someone more congenial?"
"i suppose mrs. bernard temple is congenial to him," replied annie, "and that he doubtless considers of the first importance. after all, hetty, i'm sure she will let you have your own way in everything, and i don't really think that antonia is half bad. if i were you i would try and make friends with her."
"it is not in my nature to make friends easily," replied hester.
she was standing in her pretty bedroom as she spoke, and annie was leaning by the open window, swinging her garden hat in her hand.
"hester," she said, suddenly, "forgive me if i ask you rather a rude question. is your father a very rich man?"
hester looked surprised.
"i suppose so," she answered; "to tell the truth, i have never thought about it. oh, yes, i conclude that he is quite well off."
"but i want him to be more than well off. is he rich—very rich? so rich that he would not miss a lot of money if he had suddenly to—to lose it?"
"what a very queer question to ask me, annie," replied hester. "i am really afraid i cannot reply to it. i think my father must be rich, but i don't know if he is rich enough to be able to afford to lose [pg 236]a lot of money—i don't think anyone is rich enough for that."
"oh, yes, some people are," answered annie. "well, good-bye, hetty, keep up your heart. i'll be back early to-morrow morning."
"i must get that question of sir john thornton's wealth clearly answered somehow or other," thought annie, "for there is no manner of use in antonia stirring up a lot of mischief if there is no money to be found. i wonder if nursey could help me. i think i'll just have a word with her before i go to the towers."
mrs. martin was alone when annie entered the room.
"well, my dear, and why ain't you at dinner?" asked the old woman. she was still fond of annie, whom she invariably spoke of as "a winsome young body," but recent events had soured her considerably, and as she herself expressed it, the keenest pleasure now left to her in life was to "mope and mutter."
"moping and muttering eases the mind," she said; "it's a wonderful relief not to have to sit up straight and smiling when you feel crooked and all of a frown."
accordingly mrs. martin received annie forest with brief displeasure.
"i have no heart for dinner," said annie, who took her cue at once from the old woman's face. "i know you are miserable, nurse martin, but you need not look at me so scornfully, for i am trying to mend matters."
"you," exclaimed nurse, "a child like you! now, miss annie, i would try and talk sensibly, i would, really."
[pg 237]
"well, i'm going off to the towers for the night," said annie, "and if you weren't so cross i'd like to say good-bye and give you a kiss before i started."
"eh, dear," replied nurse, her countenance visibly softening however; "kisses, however sweet they be, don't heal sore places."
"but you'll take one, won't you, nursey?"
"eh, my bairn, you have a winsome way, but don't you come canoodling me now, when my heart is like to break about my own dear children; and the young ladies at the towers, too, in such a muck of trouble."
"dear nursey," exclaimed annie; "dear, loving, faithful, true-hearted nursey."
she stroked the old woman's brow and rubbed her soft cheek against hers.
"out with it now, my pet," said nurse martin. "what is it you want me to do? if it's the pawn-shop again—once for all, no, i won't."
"it isn't the pawn-shop," said annie; "it's just to ask you a simple question. i asked hester, but she couldn't tell me. is sir john thornton a rich man?"
"is he rich?" echoed nurse; "do you think she'd be after him if he wasn't?"
"i don't know. is he rich, nursey?"
"yes, he's rich," replied nurse.
"very, very rich? dear nurse martin, please say yes."
"he's rich," replied nurse in an emphatic voice. "he has got his gold and his lands, and not a debt anywhere, and small expenses compared to his means. yes, he's rich. more shame to him for taking the money from miss hester and miss nan [pg 238]to provide a new wife and an outlandish stepdaughter."
"if he lost a lot of money, a great lot, would he be a beggar?" pursued annie.
"well, really, miss annie, it isn't for me to say; but i think it would be a very big sum that would beggar sir john. what are you after, miss? i don't understand you at all."
"i'm thinking of the outlandish stepdaughter," replied annie.
"oh, miss annie forest, don't name her to me. she turns my heart sick. its in an asylum she should be. the messes she carries about with her, and the dress she wears, and the whole look of her! it isn't fit for miss hester and miss nan to have anything to do with her."
"you don't know her yet," replied annie. "she has beautiful thoughts and grand resolves."
"preserve me from 'em," said nurse. "there, now, miss, if you re going, you'd better go. i don't want to hear anything more about that girl, for lady she ain't."
"good-bye, nurse," said annie. "i am glad you are certain that sir john thornton is rich."
"i'd be glad if i was as certain that miss hester and miss nan were going to be happy," replied the old woman.
annie blew a kiss to her and ran away.
the task antonia had set her was quite to her heart. if, in addition to helping the lorrimers, she could by this means get out of her own scrape, why, so much the better. it was one of annie's gifts to be able to discriminate character with great nicety; and while antonia spoke to her, she acknowledged a [pg 239]sudden respect and even admiration for the power which this queer girl possessed.
it was almost night when annie set off on her walk across the fields to the towers. she could not help singing to herself as she skipped lightly over the ground. she felt somehow, she could scarcely tell why, as if a great load had been lifted off her mind. one part of antonia's mission she had already accomplished. she had found out from a very trustworthy source that sir john thornton was really a rich man. the second half of her task, the discovery of the present address of squire lorrimer, would surely not be impossible of fulfilment.
the lorrimer children were out as usual. whenever was a lorrimer within doors, when he or she could be out? when annie approached they were dismally employed, for harry had inaugurated weekly meetings of the feud during the remainder of their stay at the towers; and the children were now dancing solemnly round the bonfire, and repeating the solemn dirge which was to work evil consequences to the new-comers. harry was spokesman on the occasion. he repeated the words to a sort of chanting air, and all the others repeated them after him with immense unction and smacking of lips. kitty said afterwards that the dirge made her feel nearly as bloodthirsty as a red indian, and boris openly wished that he could live in a wigwam and wear scalps.
annie's appearance on the scene diverted the whole party, and boris eagerly asked her if she would like to become a member of the feud.
"i would immensely," replied annie; "but it wouldn't be of any use, as i'm not a lorrimer."
[pg 240]
"i could marry you, and then you'd be one," said boris, looking up at her with a great shining light in his eyes.
"so you could, you sweet," said annie, bending down and kissing him, "and the day i marry you i faithfully promise to join the feud; but i must run off now to find molly."
"she's somewhere in the tower packing books," screamed kitty after her.
accordingly annie pursued her way round to that part of the house.
the tower was at least two hundred years older than the rest of the mansion, and, as annie ran up the spiral stairs, she had to feel her way through thick darkness, for the lorrimers never thought of spending money on illuminating the stairs and passages of this ancient building.
a dim light in the distance presently guided her steps, and she soon found herself standing, out of breath and a good deal blown, in the presence of molly and jane macalister. they were both clothed from head to foot in long brown-holland aprons. jane was vigorously dusting and brushing a heap of dilapidated books, which molly was arranging in orderly piles on the floor. jane looked up when she saw annie and uttered a little scream.
"now, what have you come about?" she said; "you see we are quite up to our eyes in work."
"delightful," said annie; "i'll help. toss me an apron, molly, do."
off went annie's hat, on went the brown-holland apron, and jane found that she had secured a valuable assistant in the matter of dusting and brushing.
i_4
packing the books (p. 240).
[pg 241]
the work went on for two or three minutes in silence, then molly said, "i hope there's nothing the matter with nora, annie? it seems so very late for you to come to pay us a visit."
"i have come here to stay for the night, if i may," replied annie.
"hoots! i don't know if that will be possible," interrupted jane.
"oh, i'll sleep anywhere; i'm not a bit particular. i want to talk to you, molly; i've a great deal to say."
"there's no use in girls wasting their time with silly havering when work has to be done," snapped jane. "i'm willing to grant that a heavy misfortune has come to this house, but come rain or sunshine the daily round must go on. pass me that clean duster, molly. these books have to be sorted and put in boxes before we either of us lie down to-night."
"but three pairs of hands make lighter work than two," rejoined annie. "i'm willing to help; i mean to help; i am helping. molly, pass me a duster, too. i'll talk to you, molly, when the work is over."
"that's the time for sleep," said jane.
"oh, come, jane, if annie wants to talk to me, she must," said molly in an almost fretful tone. "there's plenty of room for you in my bed, annie, so that matter is settled; now let us fly along with the books."
jane did not utter another word of remonstrance. in her inmost heart she had a great admiration for annie, whom she always spoke of as a "bonny, capable lassie." the books were all sorted and packed in a little over an hour, and then the girls went downstairs to supper in the great hall. supper consisted of porridge and milk, followed by great dishes of stewed fruit. the children all sat round a table, and mrs. [pg 242]lorrimer, with the air of a royal matron, dispensed the simple food.
immediately afterwards, annie slipped her hand through molly's arm, and drew her out of doors on to the moonlit lawn.
"i can't wait another moment," she said. "i've oceans of things to ask you."
"i suppose you have come over on some special business," replied molly. "has hester sent me a message?"
"no; hester has had nothing to do with it. i came over because i really want a talk with you all by myself. i cannot tell you what i thought to-day when that dreadful susy drummond came with her sort of 'take possession' style into the house."
"and do you really imagine," answered molly, "that miss drummond annoyed us in any way? for if you do you are greatly mistaken. we are in great trouble just now about father, and about dear guy being cut out of his rightful inheritance, and naturally we shall all feel leaving the towers, but if you think that girl makes any difference one way or other, you are quite wrong."
annie was silent for a moment. then she said in a low voice, "i'm glad you don't mind her; she would try me a good bit. how soon have you got to leave, molly?"
"mother would like us to be out in a month," replied molly. "mr. drummond does not take possession for over five weeks, but mother thinks that when a very painful thing has to be done, the sooner it is over the better. and she has almost taken a roomy old cottage on the edge of sharsted common. she says the children must not be cooped up in a [pg 243]town house, and they will have plenty of room to run about on the common, and as nortonbury is only a mile away, guy and harry can still go to school there."
"and will you still stay at home, molly?"
"i don't know, all the future is a complete blank. i am not educated according to modern ideas, and i love my own people so deeply that it would be agony to leave them. at the same time, i know some of us must go away, for we shall be very poor; we'll have no money at all except the income from mother's little fortune, and that will go a small way. i have asked mother to let us do without a servant, for i quite love housework. but really, annie, everything at present is simply in chaos."
"it is good of you to tell me," said annie, in her caressing voice. "you know i am poor myself, and i dearly love poor people; they are fifty times more interesting than rich ones. fancy what zest is added to life when you have to contrive and scrape, and patch and fit every one of your dresses."
"as to that," replied molly, "i don't in the least care what i wear; but i must frankly say that patched and contrived dresses are, as a rule, very ugly. now shall we come into the house?"
"not yet," replied annie; "it is lovely out. let us take another turn just here in the moonlight. have you heard anything about the squire lately, molly? is he likely to come back to the towers soon?"
"no; i'm afraid he won't come at all. the sudden necessity which obliged him to sell the old home has had the strangest effect upon him. we are very anxious about him—very, very unhappy. the state of his health is our keenest grief."
[pg 244]
"and do you know where he is?"
"oh, yes, in london. mother writes to him to his club."
"it seems a great pity that he should be alone there," said annie. "i wonder your mother likes to leave him."
"mother is only carrying out his wishes. he has absolutely refused to come back to the towers. he says he may come after we have all gone, but not before. i cannot tell you, annie, how miserable we are about him. he is completely altered. he used to be the tenderest, the most unselfish of fathers, and now the whole burden of everything is put on poor mother's shoulders."
"what is the name of his club?" asked annie.
"the carlton."
"have none of you any influence over him?"
"nell has the most. she is a strange child, and has a way of seeing down into the very heart of things. where her interests are aroused, she has such intense sympathy that it gives her wonderful tact. if father were at home, i believe nell could manage him; but where is the use of talking? he is away, and we none of us can move him by letter or otherwise. mother hopes that when we are really settled at the cottage, he will return; but oh, dear—oh, dear—i believe the changed life will shorten his days. there, annie, i never thought to confide in you, but you see i have done so. now let us come indoors."
