Part 3 (1/2)

”I like that!” said Cedric. ”When it was all you that made her fall at all--and break my spectacles.”

”What's that?” said Nurse, miraculously reappearing. ”All you, was it? I might have known it, you mischievous wicked child. Tell me what happened, this minute.”

But Alex was screaming and writhing on the floor, feeling as though she must die of such misery, and it was Cedric who gave the a.s.sembled household a judicial version of the accident.

The doctor came and telegrams were sent to Scotland, which brought back Lady Isabel, white-faced and tearful, and Sir Francis, very stern and monosyllabic.

”Father, my spectacles are broken,” cried Cedric earnestly, running to meet them, but they did not seem to hear him.

”Where is she, Nurse?” said Lady Isabel.

”In the boudoir, my lady, and better, thank Heaven. The doctor says her back'll get right again in time.”

Alex, hanging shaking over the bal.u.s.trade, saw that Nurse was making faces as though she were crying. But when she came upstairs, after a long time spent with Lady Isabel in the boudoir, and saw Alex, her face was quite hard again, and she gave her a push and said, ”It's no use crying those crocodile tears now. You should have thought of that before trying to kill Barbara the way you did.”

”I didn't, I didn't,” sobbed Alex.

But n.o.body paid any attention to her.

Good-natured Emily was sent away, because Nurse said she wasn't fit to be trusted, and Cook, who was Emily's aunt, and very angry about it all, told Alex that it was all her fault if poor Emily never got another place at all. Everything was Alex' fault.

There was no going to the seaside, even after Barbara was p.r.o.nounced better. But Lady Isabel, who, Nurse said, had been given a dreadful shock by Alex' wickedness, was going into the country, and would take Archie and the baby with her, if they could get a new nursery-maid at once.

”And me and Cedric?” asked Alex, trembling.

”Cedric doesn't give me no trouble, as you very well know, and he'll stay here and help me amuse poor little Barbara, as has always got on with him so nicely.”

”Shall I stay and play with Barbara too?”

”She's a long way from playing yet,” Nurse returned grimly. ”And I should think the sight of you would throw her into a fit, after what's pa.s.sed.”

”But what will happen to me, Nurse?” sobbed Alex.

”Your Papa will talk to you,” said Nurse.

Such a thing had never happened to any of the children before, but Alex, trembling and sick from crying, found herself confronting Sir Francis in the dining-room.

”I am going to send you to school, Alex,” he told her. ”How old are you?”

”Twelve.”

”Then I hope,” said Sir Francis gravely, ”that you are old enough to understand what a terrible thing it is to be sent from home in disgrace for such a reason. I am told that you have the deplorable reputation of originating quarrels with your brothers and sister, who, but for you, would lead the normal existence of happily-circ.u.mstanced children.”

Alex was terrified. She could not answer these terrible imputations, and began to cry convulsively.

”I see,” said Sir Francis, ”that you are sensible of the appalling lengths to which this tendency has led you. Even now, I can scarcely believe it--a harmless, gentle child like your little sister, who, I am a.s.sured, has never done you wilful injury in her life--that you should deliberately endanger her life and her reason in such a fas.h.i.+on.”

He paused, as though he were waiting for Alex to speak, but she could not say anything.