Miss Tredgold, therefore, had compassion on Pauline’s late indisposition, and made lessons as easy as possible for her. Thus Pauline had very little to do, except to think of that mystery which was growing thicker and thicker. In one way it helped her own dilemma. With her sisters walking in twos and threes all over the place, it would not be at all remarkable for her to slip down at the appointed hour to the wicket-gate. Even Penelope would not notice her, so absorbed was she in assisting Adelaide to make a special present for Pauline.
As the day advanced the little girl became terribly nervous. She felt a sense of irritation when one of her sisters looked at her, whispered to her companion, and then turned away. She would almost have preferred Miss Tredgold to be as stern as she was before. Her whole mind was in a state of tumult. She felt the net closing tighter and tighter around her. Even the birthday was scarcely interesting while such a weight rested on her heart. Miss Tredgold had said during the afternoon as they were all sitting together on the lawn:
“This is to be a great birthday. This is the very first birthday I have spent under your roof. You must all remember it as long as you live.”
“Oh, can I ever forget it?” thought poor Pauline. “But Aunt Sophy little knows that I shall not remember it for its kindness and its sunshine and its presents; I shall remember it always because I am such a wicked girl.”
Now as evening approached she could not help whispering to herself:
“The net is closing—closing round me. It is gathering me up into a heap. My legs and arms are tied. Soon the wicked, dreadful thing will press my head down, and I shall be powerless and lost.”
She thought out this metaphor, and it seemed to haunt her footsteps.
“It is right that a girl who told a black lie should be cramped up in it,” thought Pauline. “Oh, why hadn’t I courage to tell Aunt Sophy the truth? She might have been angry, but in the end she would have forgiven me. I would far rather have no notice whatever taken of my birthday than be as miserable as I am now.”
“That child isn’t well,” said Miss Tredgold to Verena, as Pauline was seen slowly creeping in a subdued sort of way in the direction of the lower shrubbery. “Why is she always stealing off by herself? I have a good mind to call her back and take her for a drive. It is a lovely evening, and a drive would do her good.”
“So it would, Aunt Sophy. You know how busy all the rest of us are finishing her presents. I am sure she would love to drive with you, for I think she is getting very fond of you.”