Part 52 (1/2)
Evelyn was silent.
”I shall see that you are. You must realize already what a pitiable figure you will be, how deep and lasting will be your disgrace. You have just tasted the sweets of success; why should you undergo that which will be said of you to-morrow, that which no English girl can ever forgive? It will not be forgotten in the school that owing to you much enjoyment has been cut short, that owing to you a cloud has rested on the entire place for several days-prizes forgone, liberty curtailed, amus.e.m.e.nts debarred; and, before and above all these things, the fearful stigma of disgrace resting on every girl at Chepstow House. But even now, Evelyn, there is time; even now, by a full confession, much can be mitigated. You know, my dear, how strong is the case against you.
To-morrow morning both Miss Thompson and I proclaim before the entire school what has occurred. You are, in short, as a prisoner at the bar.
The school will be the judges; they will declare whether you are innocent or guilty.”
”Let me go,” said Evelyn. ”Why do you torture me? I said I did not do it, and I mean to stick to what I said. Let me go.”
”Unhappy child! I shall not be able to retain you in the school after to-morrow morning. But go now-go. G.o.d help you!”
Evelyn walked across the hall. Her school companions were still standing about; many wondered why her face was so pale, and asked one another what Miss Henderson had to say in especial to the little girl.
”It cannot be,” said Sophie, ”that she did it. Why, of course she did not do it; she would have no motive.”
”Don't let us talk about it,” said her companion. ”For my part I rather like Evelyn-there is something so quaint and out-of-the-common about her-only I wish she would not look so angry sometimes.”
”But how splendidly she recited that song of the ranch!” said Sophie. ”I could see the whole picture. We must not expect her to be quite like ourselves; before she came here she was only a wild little savage.”
The governess-cart had come for the two girls. They drove home in silence. Audrey was thinking of the misery of the following morning.
Evelyn was planning her escape. She meant to go before dinner. She had asked Jasper to meet her at seven o'clock precisely. She had thought everything out, and that seemed to be the best hour; the family would be in their different rooms dressing. Evelyn would make an excuse to send Read away-indeed, she seldom now required her services, preferring to dress alone. Read would be busy with her mistress and her own young lady, and Evelyn would thus be able to slip away without her prying eyes observing it.
Tea was ready for the girls when they got home. They took it almost without speaking. Evelyn avoided looking at Audrey. Audrey felt that it was now absolutely hopeless to say a word to Evelyn.
”I should just like to bid Uncle Edward good-by,” thought the child.
”Perhaps I may never come back again. I do not suppose Aunt Frances will ever allow me to live at the Castle again. I should like to kiss Uncle Edward; he is the one person in this house whom I love.”
She hesitated between her desire and her frantic wish to be out of reach of danger as soon as possible, but in the end the thought that her uncle might notice something different from usual about her made her afraid of making the attempt. She went up to her room.
”It is not necessary to dress yet,” said Audrey, who was going slowly in the direction of the pretty schoolroom.
”No; but I have a slight headache,” said Evelyn. ”I will lie down for a few minutes before dinner. And, oh! please, Audrey, tell Read I do not want her to come and dress me this evening. I shall put on my white frock, and I know how to fasten it myself.”
”All right; I will tell her,” replied Audrey.
She did not say any more, but went on her way. Evelyn entered her room.
There she packed a few things in a bag; she was not going to take much.
In the bottom of the bag she placed for security the two little rolls of gold. These she covered over with a stout piece of brown paper; over the brown paper she laid the treasures she most valued. It did not occur to her to take any of the clothes which her Aunt Frances had bought for her.
”I do not need them,” she said to herself. ”I shall have my own dear old things to wear again. Jasper took my trunks, and they are waiting for me at The Priory. How happy I shall be in a few minutes! I shall have forgotten the awful misery of my life at Castle Wynford. I shall have forgotten that horrid scene which is to take place to-morrow morning. I shall be the old Evelyn again. How astonished Sylvia will be! Whatever Sylvia is, she is true to Jasper; and she will be true to me, and she will not betray me.”
The time flew on; soon it was a quarter to seven. Evelyn could see the minute and hour hand of the pretty clock on her mantelpiece. The time seemed to go on leaden wings. She did not dare to stir until a few minutes after the dressing-gong had sounded; then she knew she should find the coast clear. At last seven silvery chimes sounded from the little clock, and a minute later the great gong in the central hall pealed through the house. There was the gentle rustle of ladies' silk dresses as they went to their rooms to dress-for a few visitors had arrived at the Castle that day. Evelyn knew this, and had made her plans accordingly. The family had a good deal to think of; Read would be specially busy. She went to the table where she had put her little bag, caught it up, took a thick shawl on her arm, and prepared to rush down-stairs. She opened the door of her room and peeped out. All was stillness in the corridor. All was stillness in the hall below. She hoped that she could reach the side entrance and get away into the shrubberies without any one seeing her. Cautiously and swiftly she descended the stairs. The stairs were made of white marble, and of course there was no sound. She crossed the big hall and went down by a side corridor. Once she looked back, having a horrible suspicion that some one was watching her. There was no one in sight. She opened the side door, and the next instant had shut it behind her. She gave a gasp of pleasure. She was free; the horrid house would know her no more.
”Not until I go back as mistress and pay them all out,” thought the angry little girl. ”Never again will I live at Castle Wynford until I am mistress here.”
Then she put wings to her feet and began to run. But, alas for Evelyn!
the best-laid plans are sometimes upset, and at the moment of greatest security comes the sudden fall. For she had not gone a dozen yards before a hand was laid on her shoulder, and turning round and trying to extricate herself, she saw her Aunt Frances. Lady Frances, who she supposed was safe in her room was standing by her side.
”Evelyn,” she said, ”what are you doing?”