The School Queens

“Oh Merry, you – of all people!” said Maggie.

“And why not?” said Merry. “I am your friend – your own very, very great friend. What is the matter, Mags? You were so jolly at tea; what can have happened since?”

“Something most dreadful,” said Maggie; “but you will know on Saturday.”

“Oh!” said Merry, coming up to Maggie and dropping on her knees and fondling one of the girl’s cold hands, “why should I wait till Saturday? Why should I not know now?”

“I can’t talk of it, Merry. I am glad you – you —loved me. You won’t love me in the future. But kiss me just this once.”

“I am not going to leave you like this,” said Merry.

“You must, dear; yes, you must. Please, please go! And – please, be quick. Some one will see us together. Lucy Johnson will come in. Oh! don’t make matters worse for me. Good-night, Merry, good-night.”

Maggie seemed so anxious that Merry should go that the girl felt hurt and rose to her feet.

“Good-night, Merry dear,” said Maggie as Merry was walking towards the door. Then she added, in a semi-whisper which Merry did not catch, “And good-bye, Merry dear; we shall never meet again.”

Merry left the room, feeling full of apprehension. She thought for a minute as she stood outside. Then she went and knocked at Aneta’s door.

“Aneta, may I come in?”

“Of course, dear. What is the matter?” said her cousin.

Merry entered at once.

“I have been to see Maggie. She is awfully queer. Oh, I know I broke the rules. I must tell Miss Johnson in the morning.”

“I did beg of you, Merry, not to go to her,” said Aneta.

“Yes, I know you did; but I could not help thinking and thinking about her. She is very queer. Her eyes look so strange.”

“I hoped she was in bed and asleep,” said Aneta.

“In bed!” said Merry. “Not a bit of it. She was up and sitting by the window gazing at the fog.”

“I will go and see her myself,” said Aneta.

“Will you, Neta? And you will be kind to her?”

“Yes, darling, of course.”

“Somehow, she used to think that – that you didn’t love her,” said Merry.

“Nor did I,” said Aneta. “But I will be kind to her; don’t be afraid. I think I can guess what is the matter.”

“It is all very queer,” said Merry. “She was in such splendid spirits to-day; all the girls said so when they were out preparing for our party, and now she looks years older and utterly miserable.”

“Go to bed, Merry, and leave your friend in my care.”

“Then you don’t think it wrong of me to be very fond of her?”

“I do not, Merry. There was a time when I hoped you would not care for her; now I earnestly want you to be her true friend. There is a very great deal of good in her, and she has had many sorrows. Pray for her to-night. Don’t be anxious. Everything will come as right as possible.”

“Oh Neta,” said Merry, “you are a darling! And when you talk like that I love you more than I ever did before. You see, dear, I could not help caring for Maggie from the very first, and nothing nor anybody can alter my love.”

Aneta kissed Merry, who left the room. Then Aneta herself, taking up her candle, went out. She was wearing a long white wrapper, and her clouds of golden hair were falling far below her waist. She looked almost like an angel as she went down the corridor as far as Miss Johnson’s room.

Lucy Johnson was just getting into bed when Aneta knocked.

“What is it, Neta?” said the governess in a tone almost of alarm.

“I want to break a rule, Lucy,” said Aneta; “so put me down for punishment to-morrow.”

“Oh, but why? What are you going to do?”

“I am going to do something which I shall be punished for. I am going to spend to-night, if necessary, with Maggie Howland.”

“Is she ill, Neta? Ought we to send for the doctor?”

“Oh no, she is not a bit ill in that way. Good-night, Lucy; I felt I ought to tell you.”

Aneta continued her way until she reached Maggie’s room. It was now past midnight. The quiet and regular household had all retired to bed, and Maggie had feverishly begun to prepare for departure. She knew how to let herself out. Once out of the house, she would be, so she felt, through the worst part of her trouble. She was not unacquainted with the ways of this cruel world, and thought that she might be taken in at some hotel, not too far away, for the night. Early in the morning she would go by train to some seaside place. From there she would embark for the Continent. Beyond that she had made no plans.

Maggie was in the act of removing her father’s treasures from the tin boxes when, without any warning, the room-door was opened, and Aneta, in her pure white dress, with her golden hair surrounding her very fair face, entered the room.

“Oh!” said Maggie, dropping a curiously made cross in her confusion and turning a dull brick-red. “Whatever have you come about?”

Aneta closed the door calmly, and placed her lighted candle on the top of Maggie’s chest of drawers.

“I hoped you were in bed and asleep,” she said; “but instead of that you are up. I have made arrangements to spend the night with you. It is bitterly cold. We must build up the fire.”

Maggie felt wild.

Aneta did not take the slightest notice. She knelt down and put knobs of fresh coal on the fire. Soon it was blazing up merrily. “That’s better,” she said. “Now, don’t you think a cup of cocoa each would be advisable?”

“I don’t want to eat,” said Maggie.

“I should like the cocoa,” said Aneta; “and I have brought it with me. I thought your supply might be out. Here’s your glass of milk which you never drank, and here’s a little saucepan, and there are cups and saucers in your cupboard, and a box of biscuits. Just sit down, won’t you? while I make the cocoa.”

Maggie felt very strange. Her dislike of Aneta was growing less and less moment by moment. Nevertheless, she by no means gave up her primary idea of running away. She felt that she must hoodwink Aneta. Surely she was clever enough for that. The best plan would be to acquiesce in the cocoa scheme, afterwards to pretend that she was sleepy, and go to bed. Then Aneta would, of course, leave her, and there would still be plenty of time to get out of the house and disappear into the foggy world of London. The glowing fire, the beautiful young girl kneeling by it, the preparation for the little meal which she made with such swiftness and dexterity, caused Maggie to gaze at her in speechless amazement.

Maggie drank her delicious cocoa and munched her biscuits with appetite, and afterwards she felt better. The world was not quite so black and desolate, and Aneta looked lovely with her soft eyes glowing and the rose-color in her cheeks.

“Why are you doing all this for me?” said Maggie then.

“Why?” said Aneta. “I think the reason is very simple.” Then she paused for a minute and her eyes filled with sudden tears. “I think it is, Maggie, because quite unexpectedly I have learned to love you.”

“You – to love me – me?” said Maggie.