Part 8 (2/2)
On their way Connie turned innocently to her companion and said:
”Why ever did yer say as we lived in Portland Mansions?” But a sharp pinch on the girl's arm silenced her, and she felt more nervous and frightened than ever.
The moment they got home, Mrs. Warren again returned to her bedroom, and came back neatly dressed in a black and yellow silk, with a keen appreciation of roast pork and apple sauce, which had been preparing in the oven all the morning. Connie too was hungry.
When the meal came to an end Mrs. Warren said:
”More like a lydy you grows each minute. But, my dear, I must thank yer nivver to open yer mouth when you're out, for yer ain't got the accent.
Yer must niver do it until yer has acquired the rightful accent.”
”Was that why yer pinched me so 'ard when I axed why yer spoke o'
Portland Mansions?” asked Connie.
Mrs. Warren burst into a loud laugh.
”Course it were,” she said. ”Don't yer nivver do nothing o' that sort agin.”
”But we don't live in Portland Mansions. Why did yer say so?” asked Connie.
”Ax no questions and yer'll be told no lies,” was Mrs. Warren's response.
She accompanied this apparently innocent speech with a look out of her fierce black eyes which caused poor Connie's heart to sink into her shoes. After a minute Mrs. Warren said:
”To-morrer's Sat.u.r.day; we'll go out a bit in the morning, and then we'll take train into the country. I promised yer a jaunt, and yer shall 'ave it. I'm thinking a lot o' yer, my dear, and 'ow I can best help such a beautiful young gel. Yer accent must be 'tended to, and the best way to manage that is for you to have a refoined sort o' companion. Ronald is that sort. We'll go and fetch 'im 'ome to-morrer.”
”Whoever is Ronald?” asked Connie. ”Do tell me, please,” she added in an interested voice, ”for Agnes spoke of him yesterday.”
”You wait till yer see,” said Mrs. Warren. She nodded good-humoredly.
The rest of the day pa.s.sed very much like the day before. It was again intensely dull to poor Connie. She had nothing whatever to do but to feed and sit still. Again Mrs. Warren slept until tea-time. Then Agnes made her appearance, and Mrs. Warren went out in a tight-fitting coat, and with a leather bag in her hand. Agnes made tea and scolded Connie; and Connie grumbled and cried, and begged and begged to be given back her liberty.
Mrs. Warren returned a little later than the night before. Agnes went away; Mrs. Warren drank whisky-and-water, and Connie was sent to bed.
Oh, it was a miserable night! And would her own people ever find her?
Would Sue be satisfied that Connie was not quite lost? And would Father John look for her? Dear, kind, splendid Father John! What would she not give to hear his magnificent voice as he preached to the people once again? Would not her own father search heaven and earth to find his only child? He was so good to Connie when he was not drunk--so proud of her, too, so glad when she kissed him so anxious to do the best he could for her! Would he give her up for ever? ”Oh dear, dear!” thought the poor child, ”if it was not for the Woice I believe I'd go mad; but the Woice--it holds me up. I'm 'appy enough w'en I 'ears it. Oh, little Giles, thank yer for telling me o' the wonnerful Woice!”
CHAPTER IX.
A TRIP INTO THE COUNTRY.
Sat.u.r.day dawned a very bright and beautiful day. Mrs. Warren got up early, and Connie also rose, feeling somehow or other that she was going to have a pleasanter time than she had yet enjoyed since her imprisonment. Oh yes, she was quite certain now that she was imprisoned; but for what object it was impossible for her even to guess.
Mrs. Warren bustled out quite an hour earlier than usual. She did not go far on this occasion. She seemed a little anxious, and once or twice, to Connie's amazement, dodged down a back street as though she were afraid.
Her red face turned quite pale when she did this, and she clutched Connie's arm and said in a faltering voice:
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