The Boarding School Part 9

"You shall not go with her, against your mind, were she as big as Hercules! We are English, and are not to be conquered." Miss Bruce suddenly let go her companion's frock, and gave the boy a violent slap upon the face. "Go home, you little ragged creature, mend your coat, and do not talk to ladies."

The boy instantly recovered himself from the blow; and looking at Miss Bruce with scorn, exclaimed, "I am not a mender of old clothes, Miss!

Take that for your pains, and your boarding-school manners!"

The blow he returned made blood to gush violently from Miss Bruce's nose. Isabella screamed; the children cried out, "very well, Tom! I would not be you for something."

A pretty woman, but with a stern countenance, now came forth from the cottage, and asked what the rout was about.

"Only our Tom and the lady boxing," cried the children.

"For shame of yourself, Sir! How dare you behave so to your betters?"

"I would have struck her," said the boy, sullenly, "had she been as tall as the steeple, and as great as King George But come, little Miss, with me, and let that great girl do what she likes."

He now ran off with Isabella.

"Very well, Sir! but I shall tell your father of this, or my name's not Grace Johnson! But come into the cottage, Miss; and let us see what we can do with your frock, for it is in a sad state."

Miss Bruce followed the cottager, a little ashamed of her appearance; but more afraid of consequences. She was, however, one of those self-willed young ladies, who think upon a thing one moment, and act upon it the next.

When Isabella and her champion arrived at the garden-gate, behold it was locked! What was to be done was now the consideration.

"We'll tell the truth at once," said the boy: "it may be blamed, but, as the copy says, it never can be shamed. But don't look so down, Miss: never mind a bit of a thras.h.i.+ng! Father gives me many a one; but I never flinch!"

"If I am not afraid of that, I am afraid of Mrs. Adair looking serious; and not wis.h.i.+ng me good-night. But do look and see if you can see monitrix."

"Monitrix! what, in the name of goodness, is that? Have you a great dog at school?"

"O dear, no; I mean the lady who hears my lessons before I say them to Miss Adair."

"Is that all!" The boy stepped on one side, and looked up at the house.

"No, I see n.o.body; there is not a creature in the windows. But I'll tell you what, you shall stop here, and I'll go to the lady of the school.

You shan't get anger, if I can help it; and I have helped it many a time at our school, that the lads know, to my sorrow."

The boy hastily ran to the front door, and rang the bell. In the mean time Isabella crept under the court railing to conceal herself. When the servant opened the door, he asked if the lady was in.

"Do you mean my mistress?"

"To be sure I do; the mistress of the school; and must see her in a moment."

Mrs. Adair was pa.s.sing through the hall; and made her appearance, with a countenance not a little forbidding.

"What do you want with me?" she asked.

"Only, madam," and here the boy hesitated; "I beg your pardon, madam; somehow, I have a little lady here: and I don't know what to do with her."

"You mean something respecting one of my scholars; what is it? for I am at a loss to understand you."

"Bless me! surely she's not run away!"

The boy sprang to the gate, and quickly returned.

"She is quite snug; I thought she had given me the slip. A great girl, ma'am, ran away with her. She did not come down to the pond of her own free good will. This is as true as truth is. She pulled, and the great girl pulled; but with all her might, madam, the little lady could not get away. So then I marched up to the big girl; and asked her what business she had with the little one? So she was angry and vexed with my ragged coat; and made my face ring again: and I gave her a good hard blow in return, and ran off with little Miss. I looked up for Miss Monitrix, but could not find her; so here she is, under the rails."

This was all a puzzle to Mrs. Adair; but she stepped into the lane with the boy, and there she saw Isabella, seated, in great trouble, upon a stone. The affair was now explained. Isabella was taken to Elizabeth, with the a.s.surance that no one would be angry with her; but that she must not mention the affair to any person.

Mrs. Adair now proposed going with the boy to his father's. There was an expression of honest warmth in his countenance, which, in a moment, changed her own manner; and, as they were going down the lane, she asked how far they were from his father's house.

"'Tis but a cottage, madam. Grandmother says we were once well off in the world; but things will go wrong some how or another: but I'll make good what I wrote to-day."

"And what was it, my good boy?"

"Only to work while I am able, madam; and then when I am old, I will rest from my labour. But there is our cottage. I wish you could have seen my own mother, for she was a nice woman. Don't you see that clump of trees, and a barn with red tiles, and a little boy wheeling a barrow?

That's my own brother, ma'am, and there's my father at the stile, looking about him."

As they drew nearer the cottage, they saw the man and his son step over the stile into the field, followed by a female.

"Well, I declare," said the boy, "there is mother with her bonnet! I wonder what they are all after! And there's grandmother come to the door!"

He now called out: "Grandmother! here is the lady from the great school, coming to look for Miss."

"Then I fear, madam, you are coming to look for what you will not find.

Whilst my daughter went down to the pond, to the children, she slipped off. My son thinks that the young lady is gone to London in one of the stage-coaches. If so, Tom, I fear thou wilt be well paid."

"Ah, grandmother, that's nothing new! If my own mother was living, it would not be so."

"With your permission," said Mrs. Adair, as she entered the cottage, "I will take a seat till your daughter returns."

"Certainly, madam; here is a comfortable seat. But we are not the neatest people in the world," said the old woman, as she took up a child's frock from the floor. Mrs. Adair looked round, and thought she had never been in any place that had so little the appearance of comfort.

The boy looked at her, and seemed to read her countenance.

"It was not always so, madam: I remember we were once happy folks; but it was a sad day for d.i.c.k and I, when father's wife took place of father's love."

"Thou shouldst think well of thy father's wife, and honour his choice.

Stepmothers, child, have a hard task: they cannot please, do what they will."

"Grandmother," said the boy, "kindness makes kindness, all the world over. But, come what will, when uncle comes home, d.i.c.k and I will go to Plymouth, if we walk barefoot. I am sure he would break his heart, if he had not me to fight his battles; but I will never forsake him by land or by sea."

"Go to the children, and take care of them," said the old woman.

"And come to my house at four o'clock on Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and ask for Mrs. Adair."

The boy made a bow in a blunt manner; but, as he waved his hand in pa.s.sing her, she thought there was an appearance of good breeding, that would not have disgraced a boy in a much higher sphere.