The first part of the birthday was absolutely over, but the second part—the terrifying, awful part—was at hand. Aunt Sophy had kissed Pauline and had blessed her by a look. Her father had also put his trembling hand on her shoulder.
“When you want to read that lovely volume of Cicero,” he said, “come to me and I will teach you. I will spare a few minutes of my valuable time to give you instruction.”
Verena had also kissed her heartily1, and she and the rest of her sisters had gone to bed. They were all tired. Verena came for a minute into Pauline’s little room.
“I am too sleepy even to brush my hair in your room 116to-night, Paulie,” she said. “I am too sleepy to talk about our long happy day. What a pile of presents you have got! Don’t you think you have had a perfect birthday? I only wish mine was near at hand.”
“It will come in good time,” said Pauline; “and even birthdays——”
She broke off abruptly2.
“What do you mean by ‘even birthdays’?” asked Verena. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say that even birthdays had drawbacks. I know that I am dead-tired.”
“You look it, darling. Do turn into bed and go to sleep.”
Verena kissed her sister and left the room.
Pauline stood by the attic3 window. The window was a French one, and was wide open. The night was warm; the sky was without a cloud; stars like diamonds dotted the firmament4; the sky itself looked darkly blue. Pauline felt a sudden thrill going through her. It was a thrill from the nobler part of her being. The whole day, and all that happened in the day, had wrought5 her up to her present state of feeling. A touch now and she would have confessed all. A touch, a look, would have done it—for the child, with her many faults, was capable of noble deeds; but the touch was not there, nor the word of gentle advice given. Had her mother been alive, Pauline would have certainly gone to her and confessed what she had done. As it was, she only felt that, in order to save herself from the past, she must do something much more wicked in the future.
She waited until she was quite certain that Verena was in bed; then she gently unfastened the door of her room and stole out on to the landing. There was not a light in the house. All the tired people had gone to bed. She reached the room, at the farther end of the same wing, where Briar and Patty slept. The sleeping attics6 occupied two wings of the old house, the centre part of the house being without rooms in the roof. Pauline, Verena, Briar, and Patty slept in one of the wings, the rest of the girls and the nursery children in the other. Mr. Dale had the room exactly under the large attic occupied by Briar and Patty. Miss Tredgold’s room was under the nursery wing.
Pauline now very gently opened the door of the room where her two little sisters slept. They were not asleep; they were sitting up in their beds waiting for her.
“We thought you would come, Paulie,” said Briar. “We are so excited! What is it you want us to do for you, darling Paulie?”
“To save me! To save me!” said Pauline.
Her tone was dramatic; her action was more so. She fell on her knees by Briar’s bed; she clasped her arms round the little girl’s neck; she laid her head on her shoulder 117and burst into tears. The birthday queen was weeping. Could emotion go beyond that fact? Patty bounded out of her bed and knelt by Pauline’s other side. The two little girls clasped their arms round her. She had exercised a glamour7 over them all day, which now became greater than ever. Was she not their queen? Oh, yes, until midnight she was their own dear and absolutely beautiful queen. An hour was still left of her sovereignty. She had quite stolen their hearts; they loved her like anything.
“What is it, Paulie?” said Briar.
“I must tell you,” said Pauline. “I know you won’t betray me.”
“Indeed we won’t,” they both answered.
“Well, then, this is what has happened.”
She began to tell her story. She told it quickly, for the time was short. If they were to meet Nancy they must steal away almost at once. Pauline told her tale with scarcely any comment. When it was finished she looked at her sisters. The moonlight was in the room, and Pauline’s face looked ghastly, but it looked beautiful also. Her eyes were very big and dark and solemn and beseeching8. Briar and Patty glanced at each other.
“Shall we?” said Briar.
“It seems the only thing to do,” said Patty.
“All the same, it is awfully9 wrong,” said Briar.
“Think of poor Paulie,” said Patty.
“If we are discovered——” cried Briar.
“Oh, bother!” interrupted Patty. “She’s our queen. We must obey her. We are bound to help her. Let us go. She mustn’t run into danger. You know what Nancy has said: two of us must go with her. She mustn’t go alone.”
Briar leant towards Patty, and Patty whispered in her ear; and then the two little girls began to dress.
“You are darlings,” said Pauline. “I shall never forget this to you—never. I have everything else managed. I am going back to my room. When you are dressed you must shut the door of your room very quietly behind you, and then you must steal along the corridor and you will find my door just ajar. We will get out of my window by the beech-tree, and we’ll be back and safe in our beds before any one is up in the morning.”
“It certainly is thrilling,” said Briar, raising her voice in her excitement.
“Oh, don’t speak so loud!” said Pauline. “Dress very fast. I will wait for you in my room. I shall be quite ready.”
Pauline rushed back to her own room. She then put on a warm golf-cape and an old hat; and her arrangements having been completed, she bent10 out of the French window. In an incredibly short time Briar and Patty appeared. All three girls were now in the wildest state of excitement. 118Scruples were silenced for the time being. Pauline’s conscience no longer spoke11. She felt that a midnight picnic, stolen, partaken of under difficulties, sinned mightily13 to obtain, had its own inexplicable14 charm. It was certainly sweet to be naughty; there was a thrill about it, and a sense of adventure, which goodness never brought. Oh, yes, it was well worth the risk and danger. Her two little sisters partook of Pauline’s feelings. They all easily reached the ground, and when they found themselves outside in the middle of the night, it was with difficulty that Briar could keep from giving a shriek15 of ecstasy16.
“I suppose it’s because I’m so awfully naughty that I enjoy it so,” she said.
“Come along; don’t speak,” said Pauline.
She took a hand of each sister. They ran quickly over the dew-laden grass. Their feet soon got wet, for they had forgotten to put on strong shoes. But what mattered that? What did small discomforts17 signify when the grand total of pleasure was so enormous?
They opened the wicket-gate, and Pauline found herself immediately in the strong embrace of Nancy King.
“There you are, darling!” she cried, bestowing18 a resounding19 kiss on her cheek. “I feared that the she-dragon would waken and call you back; but you are here, and you have brought—let me see. Oh, you are Patty, are you not? And Briar? You are my friends for ever now. Oh, we shall have fun! The wagonette is here, and the dogcart; there are a party of us, and a lot more coming to meet us at the rendezvous20. We shall have the most glorious time you ever imagined.”
As Nancy spoke she called out to two girls who were standing21 in the shadow.
“Becky, this is Briar Dale—in other words, Rose Dale. You are to see after her. Amy, Patty Dale is your charge. Now let us get into the wagonette, for it is the snuggest22 of all the carriages, and the horses are so fleet. Listen how they are pawing the ground; they’re mad to be off. Oh, here’s father! Father, three of the young Dales have come.”
“Pleased to see you, I’m sure,” said the farmer. “It’s a warm night for the time of year.”
The little girls did not answer. Even Pauline, now that she had met the rest of the party, felt curiously23 silent. A weight seemed to rest on her. Her wild and riotous24 spirits had died down. Her conscience was not troubling her, but she felt depressed25, she scarcely knew why.
“I want something to poke12 me up,” she said to herself. “I thought I’d be quite riotous with bliss26 when I met Nancy. I don’t feel riotous; and, oh, how white the moonlight is making Briar look! Briar,” whispered Pauline suddenly, “are your feet very wet?”119
“Very: and they’re getting so cold,” said Briar.
“What are you talking about?” said Nancy.
“The fact is,” said Pauline, “we forgot to put on our outdoor shoes, and the dew is very heavy.”
“Dear, dear! That will never do. Father, what do you think these silly little misses have done? They’ve come out in their house slippers27.”
“I never!” cried the farmer. “You are silly little ladies; that I will say. I tell you what it is, Nance28; we don’t want these children to catch cold. Shall we drive back to The Hollies29 and get them some of your shoes? You have enough, I take it, to shoe a regiment30.”
Nancy laughed.
“They wouldn’t fit,” she said. “They’d be too big for any of them.”
“Well, then,” said the farmer, “they shall all three take their shoes off and wrap their feet in these warm rugs. They can put them on again, and when the dancing begins they will soon dry.”
“Are we to dance?” said Pauline, her eyes sparkling.
“You wait and see,” said Nancy.
“Yes, you wait and see,” cried the farmer. “There are all sorts of surprises. And there’s a birthday queen of this here party, ain’t there, Nancy?”
“I have heard tell that there was,” said Nancy. As she spoke she took Pauline’s hand and dragged the little girl forward to sit by her.
The drive took some time, and the farmer and his party were extremely loud and riotous and merry. As they passed under the huge oak-trees some one in a dogcart went by, and the light from a lantern fell on his face. Pauline recognized Dr. Moffat. The moment she saw him he looked round, and she fancied that he must have seen her, and that his eyebrows31 went up with an expression of astonishment32. But he did not look again; he only continued on his way.
“I do hope he didn’t see me,” said Pauline to Nancy.
“What matter if he did? He’s thinking of his profession, and not of a little girl ............