L. Meade - A Very Naughty Girl

“A dreadful child!” thought Lady Frances. “How are we to endure her? My poor, sweet Audrey! I must get Edward to allow me to send Evelyn to school; she really is not a fit companion for my young daughter.”

Miss Andrews came back.

“Please direct these envelopes, and answer some of these letters according to the notes which I have put down for you,” said Lady Frances; and her secretary began to work. But Lady Frances did not ask Miss Andrews to read or reply to the dirty little note. She took it up very much as though she would like to drop it into the fire, but finally she opened it and read the contents. The letter was rude and curt, and Lady Frances’s fine black eyes flashed as she read the words. Finally, she locked the letter up in a private bureau, and sitting down, calmly proceeded with her morning’s work.

Meanwhile Evelyn, choking with rage and utterly determined to disobey Lady Frances, left the room. She stood still for a moment in the long corridor and looked disconsolately to right and to left of her.

“How ugly it all is!” she said to herself. “How I hate it! Mothery, why did you die? Why did I ever leave my darling, darling ranch in Tasmania?”

She turned and very slowly walked up the white marble staircase. Presently she reached her own luxurious room. It was in the hands of a maid, however, who was removing the dust and putting the chamber in order.

“Where is Jasper?” asked the little girl.

“Miss Jasper has gone out of doors, miss.”

“Do you know how long she has been out?” asked Evelyn in a tone of keen interest.

“About half an hour, miss.”

“Then I’ll follow her.”

Evelyn went to her wardrobe. Jasper had already unpacked her young lady’s things and laid them higgledy-piggledy in the spacious wardrobe. It took the little girl a long time to find a tall velvet hat trimmed with plumes of crimson feathers. This she put on before the glass, arranging her hair to look as thick as possible, and smirking at her face while she arrayed herself.

“I would not wear this hat, for I got it quite for Sunday best, but I want her to see that she cannot master me,” thought the child. She then wrapped a crimson silk scarf round her neck and shoulders, and so attired looked very much like a little lady of the time of Vandyck. Once more she went down-stairs.

Audrey she did not wish to meet; Miss Sinclair she intended to be hideously rude to; but Jasper – where was Jasper?

Evelyn looked all round. Suddenly she saw a figure on the other side of a small lake which adorned part of the grounds. The figure was too far off for her to see it distinctly. It must be Jasper, for it surely was not in the least like the tall, fair, and stately Aubrey, not like Miss Sinclair.

Picking up her skirts, which were too long for her to run comfortably, the small figure now skidded across the grass. She soon reached the side of the lake, and shouted:

“Jasper! Oh Jasper! Jasper, I have news for you! You never knew anything like the – ”

The next instant she had rushed into the arms of Sylvia Leeson. Sylvia cried out eagerly:

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

Evelyn stared for a moment at the strange girl, then burst into a hearty laugh.

“Do tell me – quick, quick! – are you one of the Wynfords?” she asked.

“I a Wynford!” cried Sylvia. “I only wish I were. Are you a Wynford? Do you live at the Castle?”

“Do I live at the Castle!” cried Evelyn. “Why, the Castle is mine – I mean it will be when Uncle Ned dies. I came here yesterday; and, oh! I am miserable, and I want Jasper?”

“Who is Jasper?”

“My maid. Such a darling! – the only person here who cares in the least for me. Oh, please, please tell me your name! If you do not live at the Castle, and if you can assure me from the bottom of your heart that you do not love any one – any one who lives in the Castle – why, I will love you. You are sweetly pretty! What is your name?”

“Sylvia Leeson. I live three miles from here, but I adore the Castle. I should like to come here often.”

“You adore it! Then that is because you know nothing about it. Do you adore Audrey?”

“Is Audrey the young lady of the Castle?”

“She is not the young lady of the Castle. I am the young lady of the Castle. But have you ever seen her?”

“Once; and then she was rude to me.”

“Ah! I thought so. I don’t think she could be very polite to anybody. Now, suppose you and I become friends? The Castle belongs to me – or will when Uncle Ned dies. I can order people to come or people to go; and I order you to come. You shall come up to the house with me. You shall have lunch with me; you shall really. I have got a lovely suite of rooms – a bedroom of blue-and-silver and a little sitting-room for my own use; and you shall come there, and Jasper shall serve us both. Do you know that you are sweetly pretty? – just like a gipsy. You are lovely! Will you come with me now? Do! come at once.”

Sylvia laughed. She looked full at Evelyn; then she said abruptly:

“May I ask you a very straight question?”

“I love straight questions,” replied Evelyn.

“Can you give me a right, good, big lunch? Do you know that I am very hungry? Were you ever very hungry?”

“Oh, sometimes,” replied Evelyn, staring very hard at her. “I lived on a ranch, you know – or perhaps you don’t know.”

“I don’t know what a ranch is.”

“How funny! I thought everybody knew. You see, I am not English; I am Tasmanian. My father was an Englishman, but he died when I was a little baby, and I lived with mothery – the sweetest, the dearest, the darlingest woman on earth – on a ranch in Tasmania. Mothery is dead, and I have come here, and all the place will belong to me – not to Audrey – some day. Yes, I was hungry when we went on long expeditions, which we used to do in fine weather, but there was always something handy to eat. I have heard of people who are hungry and there is nothing handy to eat. Do you belong to that sort?”

“Yes, to that sort,” said Sylvia, nodding. “I will tell you about myself presently. Yes, take me to the house, please. I know he will be angry when he knows it, but I am going all the same.”

“Who is he?”

“I will tell you about him when you know the rest. Take me to the house, quick. I was there once before, on New Year’s Day, when every one – every one has a right to come. I hope you will keep up that splendid custom when you get the property. I ate a lot then. I longed to take some for him, but it was the rule that I must not do that. I told him about it afterwards: game-pie, two helpings; venison pasty, two ditto.”

“Oh, that is dull!” interrupted Evelyn. “Have you not forgotten yet about a lunch you had some days ago?”

“You would not if you were in my shoes,” said Sylvia. “But come; if we stay talking much longer some one will see us and prevent me from going to the house with you.”

“I should like to find the person who could prevent me from doing what I like to do!” replied Evelyn. “Come, Sylvia, come.”

Evelyn took the tall, dark girl’s hand, and they both set to running, and entered the house by the side entrance. They had the coast clear, as Evelyn expressed it, and ran up at once to her suite of rooms. Jasper was not in; the rooms were empty. They ran through the bedroom and found themselves in the beautifully furnished boudoir. A fire was blazing on the hearth; the windows were slightly open; the air, quite mild and fresh – for the day was like a spring one – came in at the open casement. Evelyn ran and shut it, and then turned and faced her companion.

“There!” she said. She came close up to Sylvia, and almost whispered, “Suppose Jasper brings lunch for both of us up here? She will if I command her. I will ring the bell and she’ll come. Would you not like that?”