Part 8 (1/2)

”You'll find Nell at home, too, Annie.”

”Is Nell another Lorrimer?”

”Yes; the ugly one of the family; the duckling, we call her most times.”

”Well, the duckling shall come, too,” shouted heedless Annie; and Kitty, with the full weight and delirious importance of her secret radiating all over her stout little person, slowly returned to the other members of the picnic party.

CHAPTER VII.

THE STORY BOOK LADY.

Annie found the road hot and the way long. As she said, she was a very good walker, and was never daunted by difficulties or dangers either real or imaginary. She was impressed by Boris's bright little face, and Kitty's story of his fidelity to the path of duty touched her quick and affectionate nature. Annie Forest, the grown-up girl, was very like Annie Forest, the child. She was still intensely impulsive, wayward, and eager. Her faults were in a great manner subdued, but they were not eradicated. She was intensely affectionate, brave, and true as steel; but she was apt to be both heedless and thoughtless. When rus.h.i.+ng away to rescue Boris, it never once entered into her head that the secret of her absence might prove very troublesome to poor Kitty, and that the rest of the party might suffer uneasiness on her account. Without any adventure from bull or bull-dog, without endangering her life in the bog, which turned out to be almost non-existent at this time of year, she reached the Towers at the most sultry time of the day, and appeared upon the scene between one and two o'clock, a tired, flushed, and very thirsty Annie. All during her walk she pictured Boris's state of despair. She saw in her mind's eye a vision of his little, flushed, tear-stained face. She thought of Nell, too, and imagined the rapture with which the ugly duckling would greet her, the deliverer of the oppressed.

Annie entered the Towers by a side entrance, and, skirting a pretty, shady lawn, approached the house by the nearest way. As she did so, she was attracted by voices which seemed to proceed from out of a clump of trees. She stepped close to the spot from where the sound proceeded, and, craning her neck, looked over the thick laurustinus bushes, which enclosed a very tiny lawn or plot of gra.s.s.

Seated here, in the utmost peace and apparent contentment, were the poor victims for whom she had exerted herself so terribly. Nell was lying full length on her back on the gra.s.s. Boris was seated tailorwise on the ground a little way off. Nell had a white rat curled up in her hair and another nestling in her neck. Boris was feeding some white hares and some pet rabbits. The children were eagerly talking to their animals, and Annie had to own to herself that there was nothing in the least unhappy or even morbid in the sound of either of the voices.

For a moment the children's perfect happiness almost vexed her. It seemed provoking to have taken that long, exhausting walk for nothing, and oh! how hungry and thirsty, how very hungry and thirsty she felt.

The next instant, however, her good-nature a.s.serted itself. She said ”Hullo!” pushed her way through the laurustinus hedge, and stood in the midst of the group.

Nell started into a sitting position, tumbling the white rats on to her lap. She looked up at Annie. What a tumbled, dishevelled, hot, but oh, what a pretty strange lady was this! Nell wors.h.i.+pped beauty with the pa.s.sion of a very hot and fervent little soul. She had scarcely noticed Annie in the schoolroom, but now her heart went out to her with a great throb.

”Who are you?” she said. ”Where do you come from? What is your name?”

”Oh, I'm not a fairy, my good child!” said Annie. ”I'm a poor, exhausted girl, who thought she was performing a very heroic feat and finds herself mistaken.”

”Pray come in and take a seat,” said Boris, who was always the soul of gentlemanly politeness. He stood up as he spoke, tumbling his rabbits and hares helter skelter in all directions, and tried to push back the laurustinus hedge for Annie. She squeezed through, tearing her cotton dress as she did so.

”Oh, dear, dear, your sweet dress is spoiled!” said Nell, in a tender voice.

”Never mind,” answered Annie; ”one must lose something to attain to this perfection.”

”Won't you seat yourself?” said Boris.

He pointed to the gra.s.s, and Annie sat upon it with a sense of delight.

”How hot you are,” said Nell. ”What can we do for you? Would it soothe you to stroke one of the rats? This darling, for instance. His name is Crinklety.”

Annie took the rat on her lap and looked at it reflectively.

”It's a darling,” she said, ”and so are the rabbits, and so are the hares; but oh, I'm so hot and so thirsty! and oh, children, don't you know what I've come about, and don't you know who I am?”

”No, I'm sure we don't,” answered Boris. Nell stared solemnly; she did not speak.

”Well,” said Annie, ”I see I must introduce myself. I am Annie Forest.

I'm Hester Thornton's friend, and I came here this morning with Hetty and Nan, and we all started on a picnic, and when we came to Friar's Wood, I found that you, Boris--you see I know your name--and you, Nell, were left behind, and I could not stand it somehow; it seemed too cruel and unfair, so I--I came back for you.”

”How did you come?” asked Boris. ”Did you drive back with Dobbin or Jacko?”