"It was a booby-trap. You look beautiful, James!" said Irene.
James flashed her an angry glance. Poor Lady Jane started to the rescue. What was she to do with this intolerable child?
"There are a lot more traps laid for the other servants," said Irene under her breath. "I didn't want poor old James to be stung by the wasps. They stung me when I was catching them, but I didn't cry out. I never cry out when I have pain. I wonder which insect stings worst? I ought to have a few handy for the worst of the servants. The only one I don't want to part with is cook, for cook is so much afraid of me that she will give me any unwholesome food I like to ask her for. When dear Rose comes we will have a feast. Oh, won't we have fun! I wonder—I do wonder—when she will come?"
Lady Jane left the room, and returned with a blue-bag, which she applied to James's swollen hand and cheek. The frightened servant said he did not think he could keep his situation much longer; but Lady Jane begged of him to be patient. Irene had disappeared.
"It is the kind of shock, your ladyship," he said to his mistress. "It's that I can't bear. There was I a-walking in as innocent as you please into my pantry, carrying the hot dishes from your ladyship's breakfast. I just touched a string, and found a shower of the most venomous insects crawling all over me. I dropped the dish on the spot, and if it hadn't been a silver one it would have been in shivers. And how was she to know that it wouldn't be your ladyship's best Sèvres or Crown Derby? How am I to endure it, my lady?"
"She is a very naughty girl, and I will certainly punish her," said Lady Jane, with a sigh. "But now, James, go about your business. The remedies I have used will soon take the pain out of your stings, and you will be all right again."
"There's poor Miss Frost," continued the man; "she has swallowed living beasts. It's all over the house, the story of Miss Irene giving her them horrors instead of her pills. It's the most dreadful thing I ever heard tell of."
"I don't believe she is really seriously hurt at all. But I will see what can be done," said Lady Jane.
She sat for a time lost in thought. Irene must be sent away—school must be resorted to. She must not any longer be allowed to render The Follies a home of terror to every individual who lived there. But what school would take such a naughty girl? For an instant Lady Jane thought of the Merrimans. But no, that was worse than useless. Was there any school in any part of the world that would receive such a hopeless character as poor Irene seemed to be turning into? Lady Jane could not tell.