“Tell me what it is, Augusta.”
“Oh, how downright we are! Well, listen; it is for your private ear, little Nan. Your dear Augusta is disposed to have a bit of a spree—just a tiny morsel of adventure on her own account—something not a bit wrong, but something that no one in the house, except sweet Nancy, is to know about. Will Nancy help Augusta, or will she not?”
“I would rather not, Gussie. I would rather not, really. I know it is not right. I am so tired—oh, so dreadfully tired!—of doing naughty things for you. Please don’t ask me; and please don’t do it, Gussie—please, please don’t.”
Augusta laughed again.
“What a sweet, touching little plea!” she said. “But just too late, my dear. Augusta is going to have her fun, and whether you help or not, she intends to go through with it. You can make things easy for me, and I shall get into no scrape, and be your humble and devoted servant for ever after; or you can refuse, and I shall still do the naughty thing—although, in that case, with a certain amount of risk. Will you subject me to that, Nancy, when you alone can make it quite safe?”
“I don’t see why I shouldn’t,” replied Nancy. “If you choose to be very naughty, why should I be naughty too?”
“Oh darling, you are quaint; you really are the most naïve creature I have ever come across. Now let me explain. I shall really not be naughty at all. It is not as if my own father and mother or Aunt Jessie were here. I owe no oath of fealty to that delightful model, Uncle Peter; if he disapproves, that is his own lookout. In short, Nancy, this is it (I will let the cat out of the bag): I want to go to-night to a small dance—the most harmless, childish little dance—at the Asprays’. Flora and I have arranged everything, and I am to meet her at the other side of our wood. She drives me to their house in a dogcart, and will bring me back again. And what I want you, sweet Nancy, to do is to open the door for me—the hall door, darling—yes, no less. I shall fling some gravel up to this window—for you must sleep here to-night, Nancy—and when you hear it you must patter, patter, patter downstairs on your ten little pink toes and open the door for your darling, who will slip in and bless you ever after.”
“I am not going to do it,” said Nancy. “It is very, very wicked indeed, and I won’t do it.”
“Oh, come, how high and mighty we are!”
“I won’t do it, Gussie. I won’t tell, of course; but let me go, please. I don’t want to be in the room with you. I don’t like you at all, Augusta. I don’t want to have anything more to do with you.”