Part 7 (1/2)
”Yes, of course.”
”And two of your brothers with it?”
”Yes,” replied Nora, suppressing a yawn, ”Guy and Harry. How hot it is to-day--the heat makes one dreadfully languid, does it not?”
”I must go and tell Hester that Boris has not come,” exclaimed Annie.
She put wings to her feet as she spoke, and left the astonished and indignant Nora to her own reflections.
Annie ran quickly through the wood. The sound of many voices floated on the summer breeze to greet her. She had almost reached the party when she suddenly came upon Kitty, who was standing alone. Kitty had just had a furious quarrel with Nan, and was in consequence feeling considerably out in the cold. Kitty knew that Boris was not of the party. She had known this from the beginning, but in the excitement and fun of having Nan Thornton to herself had been too selfish to mention the fact. Kitty guessed why Boris had remained behind. She remembered the severe punishment which Jane Macalister had inflicted upon him--a punishment which Jane had doubtless forgotten, but which Boris himself remembered.
Kitty thought of Boris now as she stood by a blackberry-bush, and p.r.i.c.ked her finger on purpose against one of the thorns. Nan had been very snubbing and very disagreeable, and Kitty cordially hated her for the time being, and wished with all her heart that Boris was there. She could snub Boris, who would never retort, but now there was no one for her to play with.
”What is your name?” asked Annie, stopping and looking at her kindly; ”you are one of the Lorrimers, of course, but I have not caught your name yet. Do you mind telling it to me?”
”I'm Kitty,” answered the little girl; she raised her brown eyes and looked full at Annie. She had never seen anyone so lovely as Annie before. She had never even imagined that the world could contain anyone so sparkling and so gay.
”You're Kitty; that is capital,” replied Annie. ”Then, Kitty, I am sure you will do just as well as Hester. Can you tell me why your dear little brother Boris has not come to the picnic?”
”I was thinking of him,” said Kitty. Tears slowly welled up into her eyes; her heart began to ache; she tried to p.r.i.c.k her finger again to relieve the pain inside.
”Boris has not come,” she replied. ”I'll tell you why. He spilt some ink, and Jane Macalister said he must be punished by staying indoors for a whole hour after lessons were over. I expect she forgot all about Boris when we got a holiday so suddenly, but Boris didn't forget, and he stayed behind.”
”Dear little Boris!” exclaimed Annie; ”dear, good, plucky little Boris!
The moment I looked at him I knew I should adore him. But see here, Kitty, the hour is up now, isn't it?”
”Oh, yes, of course; some time ago.”
”Then he'll follow us, won't he?”
”How can he? He can't come alone; it's nearly an hour's drive to Friar's Wood.”
”Of course he cannot walk,” said Annie, impatiently; ”but haven't you got a trap or carriage, or horse, or something?”
”No, I'm afraid we haven't,” said Kitty, looking very sorrowful.
”There's only old Rover, who draws the waggonette, and Dobbin the pony, and Jacko the donkey. Of course, there's father's mare, she's quite a beauty; but we are none of us allowed to have anything to do with her.”
”Then we are not to have dear little Boris at the picnic?” said Annie; ”I declare I shan't enjoy it a bit. I want him to be my own special knight.”
”What do you want a knight for?” asked Kitty, looking up with interest.
”What do I want a knight for? You silly child, all fair ladies want their own true knights.”
”You are a very fair lady,” said Kitty. ”At least, I mean you're a very lovely lady--very, very lovely; but can't you do with Guy or Harry for a knight?”
”No; I have fallen in love with Boris, and I won't have anyone else.
Kitty, can't we manage to get him to the picnic?”
”I don't know, I'm sure. He could ride Harry's bicycle, but I don't think it would once enter into his head.”