At first Carrie was too much frightened to think of accompanying her; but Florence insisted that it “was no more than fair.” She rehearsed again her arguments to the livery-stable-keeper, and, as a grand finale, urged her to rely on Cousin Fanny, who would make it all right with Mr. Worcester.
“The reason old Lady Forester won’t let us go is because she’s affronted to think she isn’t invited: she is as ugly and hateful as she can be, and she tried to make us miss. I shall go at all events: you can do as you please.”
So said Florence, and then proceeded to depict the pleasures of the evening and the certainty that their absence would never be discovered. The temptation was too great for poor Carrie.
She yielded in spite of Susan’s remonstrances, and at the hour the two friends stole softly out of the house. The carriage was ready according to the agreement; and, once at the party, Carrie quite forgot all her misgivings.
The tableaux were very beautiful, the ladies and gentlemen very polite, and Fanny spared no pains to make her little guests perfectly happy. Never was there so short or so delightful an evening.
The carriage at the appointed hour conveyed them home. They alighted where they had been taken up, and crept softly up to the house. All was dark. They tapped at the kitchen-window. The back-door opened at the signal, and there stood Miss Forester!
“Good-evening, young ladies,” said she, with a grim smile.
She said not another word, and the girls, quite crest-fallen, crept up to bed. They well knew that such an offence would never be overlooked. Even from Cousin Fanny’s intercession little was to be hoped. But how Miss Forester had learned their absence was a mystery.
Had Bridget turned traitor? Or had Susan been mean enough to think it her duty to tell of their disobedience? Florence was impatient to see Biddy, to upbraid her for her faithlessness, or Susan, to express her contempt for her if she was the guilty one; but the next morning she learned that both were quite free from blame.
Bridget’s mother, who lived in the vicinity, had sent for her in great haste, as her youngest brother was in convulsions; and Bridget, even in her distress, was not forgetful of her promise to the young ladies. She had confided their secret to one of her fellow-servants, who promised to perform her part in letting them in. Miss Forester, happening to have occasion to go to the kitchen, had overheard all this in the passage, and had sent the servants to bed, volunteering to relieve Margaret of her attendance on the door.