Part 6 (1/2)

Marjorie's round face looked full of concern. She had a way of putting her finger to her lip when she was hara.s.sed about anything. This trick gave her the appearance of a great overgrown baby.

”Go at once and see the cook, my dear,” said the governess.

Marjorie turned and left the room. In the pa.s.sage she met Basil.

”What is this about Ermie?” he said at once.

”I think I know,” said Marjorie. ”I think I can guess.”

”You'll tell me, won't you, Maggie?”

”I don't think I can, Basil. Ermie is a little--little--headstrong, and Miss Nelson, sometimes Miss Nelson is severe to Ermie.”

”I shan't like her if she is,” said Basil. ”I don't care a bit about the picnic without Ermengarde, and I do consider it provoking of Miss Nelson to keep Ermie at home on my very first holiday.”

”Oh, but you know she must maintain discipline,” said Marjorie, putting her finger to her lip again.

Basil burst out laughing.

”Don't use such solemn words, Mag,” he said. ”You are only a baby; words of wisdom don't suit you a bit.”

”I'm eleven,” said Marjorie, in a hurt voice.

She ran off to the kitchen, and delivered her message. The cook, who was fond of good-humored little Marjorie, consulted her about the viands. She replied solemnly, and tried to look interested, but the zest had gone out of her voice. The first moment she had to spare she rushed to her school-desk, and scribbled a note.

”Dear Ermie,” she said, ”I'm miserable that the wickedness is discovered. Don't be a bit frightened though, for Basil shan't guess anything. Your fond sister, MARJORIE WILTON.”

This note Marjorie inclosed in one of her favorite envelopes, with a forget-me-not wreath in blue on the flap, and before the schoolroom party started for the picnic, she pushed it under the door of Miss Nelson's sitting-room.

Ermengarde had expended her first rage, and she was very glad to pick up Marjorie's note, and to read it. At first the contents of the note gave her a slight feeling of satisfaction, and a glow of grat.i.tude to her little sister rushed over her. But then she remembered Miss Nelson's words, and the conviction once more ran through her mind that Marjorie must have been the one to tell.

”She is a canting little thing,” said Ermengarde in a pa.s.sion, ”_My_ wickedness, indeed! Who else would call an innocent drive wickedness?

Oh, yes; she let out the whole story to Miss Nelson, and now she wants to come round me with this letter, after her horrid tell-tale way.

Little monkey! Horrid, ugly little thing, too. Tell-tale-t.i.t, your tongue shall be slit. No, no, Miss Marjorie; you need not suppose that this note blinds me! I know what you've done to me, and I'll never forgive you--never, as long as I live!”

Ermengarde now tore up the poor little letter, and opening the window scattered the tiny fragments to the breeze. Once again her anger scarcely knew any bounds. They were away, the whole happy party, and she was shut up in a dull room, compelled to endure solitary confinement all through this glorious August day. It was insufferable, it was maddening, and it was all Marjorie's fault!

It is astonis.h.i.+ng how soon the mind, when angry, can establish within itself a fixed idea. Miss Nelson had said nothing to really draw suspicion on Marjorie, and yet Ermengarde was now thoroughly convinced that the little girl had been the one to tell of her misdemeanor. She did not trouble herself to examine proofs. All Marjorie's amiable and good-natured ways were as nothing to Ermengarde then. She had certainly told, and as long as she lived Ermie would never forgive her.

Just then, while her anger was at its height, she heard a low whistle under the open window. She rushed over to it, and popped out her head.

Basil was standing underneath.

”Don't, Basil,” said Ermengarde; ”do go away, please. I hate you to find me here a prisoner.”

”Oh, stuff, Ermie, don't be tragic over it. It's only for a day at the most, and what's a day?”

”What's a day? One of your holidays--the first of your holidays!”

”Well, there are lots more to follow. Bear it with a good grace. It will soon be over.”