“Oh, Mardie, I don’t want—to be—so horrid! I’ll try—to be good.—But you don’t know—how—I feel—inside! All raging, desperate! It seems—as if—it can’t be true. I was so happy. It was so—near.”
“Yes, dear, yes; but, Mildred, listen to me. I know that nothing can make up for home or Mother, but I am not going away for two or three weeks, and we will have some cosey little times together—you and I. You shall sleep with me, we will have our meals in the south parlour, and we will go little expeditions on our own account, have tea in village inns, and botanise in the fields. The doctor’s daughter will be at home from school, she shall come and spend the day with you as often as you like, and you must help me to pick fruit and make jam. We will get some nice books too, and read aloud in the evenings. It won’t be so dreadful—will it, dear? Come, Mildred, if you cry like this I shall think you don’t care for me at all.”
“Oh, Mardie, I do! I love you, and I know you will be kind, but I’m—tired of school. I want Mother! I want Mother!” And down went the curly head once more, and Mildred burst into fresh floods of tears.
It was indeed a sad ending to a day which had dawned with such radiant promise.
Chapter Three.
Friends to the Rescue.
There was consternation downstairs when the news of Mildred’s disappointment was made public. The girls clustered together in groups, and talked with bated breath. The number of times that the words “fearful” and “awful” were used would have horrified Miss Chilton if she had been present, and one and all were agreed that their friend was the most pitiable creature upon earth.
Even the little sixth-form pupils were full of sympathy, for Mildred took more notice of them than any of the “big girls”, and even condescended, upon occasion, to spend a holiday afternoon helping them with their games and “dressings up.” Within ten minutes of hearing the news little Nina Behrends had scribbled a note on a leaf of an exercise-book, and fitted it into an envelope together with a bulky inclosure. She trotted upstairs and knocked at Miss Margaret’s door, and when Mildred peered out into the passage with her tear-stained eyes, the little mite pressed the package into her hands and scuttled away as fast as her legs would carry her.