Part 2 — CHAPTER V PUNISHMENT

It was as well that Bobby took the key, for she did not get home again till after one o'clock, and Matilda had long since gone to bed. It would not have gratified the latter to have known that Bobby was content to take her welfare for granted, but could not pass Rosemary's room without peeping in to make sure that her darling slept.

Having satisfied herself on this point, she retired to her own room—the smallest and meanest of them all, and went swiftly to bed. She was in fact almost too tired to undress, but she compelled herself to do so, being methodical in all her ways. She had said her prayers for the night long since while watching by Mrs. Everett's bed, and only the one petition remained to be whispered into the darkness as she lay down. They were always the last words upon her lips at the close of each day. "O God, bless my Rosemary, and keep her safe from all evil!" Then she sank into the three hours' rest which was all that remained to her.

She was up at her usual time in the morning, ready as ever for her daily task, betraying no signs of weariness, bent only upon fulfilling her work in time to accompany Rosemary to church, as had been her invariable custom every Sunday since they had come to Little Staple.

Rosemary awoke in a repentant mood, and came down earlier than usual to help her. When she heard of Bobby's vigil with Mrs. Everett, she was full of solicitude on her behalf.

"You must be frightfully tired," she said. "Darling Aunt Bobby, I wish I'd known. I'd have come too."

"That you certainly wouldn't, dear," said Bobby. "It wasn't such a bad attack this time, but they always get more frightened at night. I was glad to be with them, and it wasn't hard work at all."

"You always say that," said Rosemary, frankly incredulous. "Well, you must leave the farmyard to me this afternoon, and get in a rest. Yes, I insist upon that, dearest," borrowing Bobby's magisterial manner with chuckling effrontery. "I shall simply lock you in your room until you do."

Bobby did not smile at this piece of levity. Perhaps she was somewhat over-serious that morning as the result of the fatigue to which she would not own.

"Rosemary dear," she said, "if you really want to help me, you can do so only by submission and good behaviour. You were very headstrong and disobedient yesterday, and though Mr. Hickory was kind enough to intercede for you, I could not possibly pass over such conduct as yours."

Rosemary's eyes grew wide and dark. "He dared to intercede for me, did he?" she commented. "I always knew he had the cheek of the devil. (No, dear, I'm sorry. I ought to have said Old Nick, I know.) Well, I'd sooner do a dozen punishments than be let off at his request. Don't ever do anything he asks you, Aunt Bobby! I'm not wanting you to pass over anything. I'll learn the beastly old Schiller. It'll keep me out of mischief in the long winter evenings, won't it?" A sudden dimple made its appearance at the corner of her mouth.

"I hope so," said Bobby, gravely overlooking it. "But you will not begin to-day of course, as it is Sunday."

"All right, Aunt Bobby." Rosemary spoke with sweet docility. "What would you like me to do to-day?"

"You may help me to-day," said Bobby, aware that a weak spot had been found in her armour. "But to-morrow——"

"Oh, don't let's talk about to-morrow!" begged Rosemary, smiling openly and winding a persuasive arm round her neck. "To-morrow never comes, does it? And it's such fun pretending it never will. Just fancy in twenty years' time, Aunt Bobby, how funny it will be if I'm still being naughty to Silas Hickory and you're still making me learn dear old Schiller!"

Bobby did not think the idea at all a funny one. "You are talking nonsense, dearest," she said. "You will be a very different person in twenty years—and so shall I."

"Heaven forbid!" said Rosemary, clasping her closely. "You may want to alter me, but I wouldn't have you different for all the world."

It was impossible not to soften to her. Bobby softened, and peace descended.

But it was very short-lived. Returning from church that morning, they found old Roper, the veterinary surgeon, red-faced and chubby-cheeked, awaiting them in the lane on his lanky grey who had the reputation for being able to jump every five-barred gate in the county.

"Ah, there you are!" was his greeting. "I had to come round this way on business so thought I'd mix in a little pleasure with it. How d'ye do, Miss Roberta? Well, Miss Rosemary, and what's your latest mischief?"

Rosemary went straight to the grey whom she knew and clasped his long head fondly in her hands.

Bobby paused. "How nice of you to look us up, Mr. Roper!" she said. "I hope you are well?"

"Very well indeed, ma'am," said old Roper. "And I trust you're the same. Have you heard the latest?"

"What is the latest?" asked Bobby.

"Why, old Ravencombe!" said Roper. "He's dead at last! It's all over the countryside. Mean to say you've been to church and not heard that?"

"My hat!" said Rosemary, turning a little pale. "Why, I saw him only yesterday—for the first time. He was raving like mad. And now he's dead, is he? My hat!"

"What? You seen him?" said old Roper. "Where was that, then? I didn't think anybody was ever allowed to."

"At the meet," explained Rosemary. "I went trespassing up a side-path, and there he was in a chair—with his keeper. He was raving like anything. He looked as if he ought to have died centuries ago. How old was he?"

"Somewhere about ninety, I believe," said Roper. "Fancy you seeing him, little missie! Hope he didn't cast the evil eye at you. They do say he was possessed."

Rosemary shivered and laughed. "He looked as if he were. What'll happen now? Who's the heir?"

Old Roper shook his head. "Ask me another! There is an heir somewhere. That's all I know."

"Well, he won't inherit much," said Rosemary. "The place has simply gone to rack and ruin. It must have been very fine once. You know it, Aunt Bobby."

"No, dear, I have never seen it," said Bobby.

She spoke absently, as though her thoughts were elsewhere.

Rosemary turned back to the grey who was nuzzling against her coat.

"And what were you doing over there?" questioned Roper. "Went to the meet, eh? It was a long way for you."

"I got a lift in a car," said Rosemary. "We followed on foot, but we didn't see anything. The going was too fast."

"Ah!" said the old riding-master, smiling at her. "It's time you had another scamper after the hounds on horseback, Miss Rosemary. They're meeting over the other side of Bode on Saturday. Would you like a mount?"

"Oh, shouldn't I?" said Rosemary, with shining eyes. "Do you really mean it, Mr. Roper? I'll come like a shot."

Bobby suddenly came to earth and spoke with decision. "No, Rosemary dear. I am sorry, but I cannot allow any more all-day hunting until that task is finished."

"Aunt Bobby!" Rosemary turned upon her in amazement. "But, Aunt Bobby, not with Mr. Roper? Why, I shan't get another chance this season!"

"I am sorry," Bobby said again. "But I have said it, and I mean it. Thank you very much, Mr. Roper, for thinking of it. I wish it had been possible."

"But it is possible!" cried Rosemary, divided between wrath and dismay. "Oh, Aunt Bobby, you can't refuse me this! You simply can't! I haven't been out with Mr. Roper for ages, while as for a gallop after the hounds——"

"My dear," said Bobby, "nothing will alter my decision. You have brought it upon yourself. I cannot give my consent after what passed yesterday. So will you thank Mr. Roper and say good-bye?"

"No, I won't!" stormed Rosemary, suddenly losing all dignity and self-control. "I'm going—I'll go whatever happens! So there!" She actually stamped in her fever of rebellion. "It's too absurd. It really is. Mr. Roper, I'll come with you! What time will you be round on Saturday?"

Roper shook his head at her and turned appealingly to Bobby. "Couldn't you think again—just for once, ma'am?" he said pleadingly. "I'll answer for it she don't get into any mischief. Come now! Couldn't you?"

But Bobby was adamant. "It is quite impossible," she said with resolution, and there was nothing in face or voice to show what that resolution cost. "Please do not think of coming round! It would be quite useless. My niece is very busy just now, Mr. Roper, and she will not have time. Thank you once more for the thought. Come, Rosemary dear, we must be getting home."

But Rosemary stood motionless, her face suddenly hidden against the face of the grey.

"There now!" said Roper. "Don't you take on, my dear! We'll manage something later on when you've more time. The skies won't fall just because you miss a run with the hounds, you know. Come, Miss Rosemary, let's see that pretty smile of yours! Your aunt knows best. Come!"

"Rosemary!" said Bobby.

Rosemary lifted her head with a jerk. She was very white, but she sent a quivering smile upwards into Roper's face of kindly concern.

"Thank you, Mr. Roper! You're a brick," she said, and turned away very swiftly, almost running past Bobby in the rapidity of her escape.

Roper looked after her sympathetically; then he turned to Bobby. But something in the latter's face made him check the words he was about to utter. He put a hasty hand to his hat and averted his eyes.

"Good morning to you, Miss Roberta!" he said.

Bobby's reply was almost inaudible as she acknowledged his salute and went on up the muddy track after Rosemary's flying figure.

She did not overtake her, and when she reached Little Staple she was nowhere to be seen.

She went herself to the kitchen to put on the potatoes, then she looked into the parlour to see Matilda.

"What on earth is the matter with that tiresome child?" was her greeting. "She came into the house just now like a tornado. I thought there was something terrible the matter. But she tore upstairs to her room and banged the door, so I couldn't ask."

"Leave her alone!" said Bobby. "She will be better presently. Don't take any notice when you see her!"

"Have you had a quarrel?" asked Matilda curiously.

"No, dear, of course not. I have had to punish her for a fault, that's all." A faint note of weariness sounded in Bobby's voice with the words though she smiled reassuringly at her sister as she uttered them.

"It's a pity you can't give her a good whipping," said Matilda rather viciously. "If anyone ever deserved it. she does."

"I am afraid this is hurting her much more," said Bobby.

She began to lay the cloth, and Matilda took up a book.

"It's very cold," she remarked after a moment or two. "I wish you would break the coal a little smaller. It takes such ages to burn through. Put some on, will you, please? I can't do without a decent fire at least."

Bobby complied in silence, and finished setting the table.

"Are you going to take Rosemary's up to her?" asked Matilda.

"No. I am going to fetch her down," said Bobby, and turned to the door. "It is too cold for her to stay upstairs to-day."

"Ridiculous!" said Matilda. "Children don't know what cold means."

Bobby went up the oak stairs and paused outside Rosemary's door.

She heard sounds of her immediately. Rosemary was walking up and down like a caged animal with a wild and desperate sobbing that stabbed Bobby to the heart. She tried to open the door and found it locked.

She called softly. "Rosemary, let me in, darling! Open the door!"

Rosemary's tramping and sobbing ceased on the instant, and there fell a stillness that pierced Bobby's heart a little deeper.

"Unlock the door, child!" she urged. "I want to talk to you."

Rosemary's voice, rather high and intensely clear, came in answer. "No, thank you, Aunt Bobby. I'd rather be alone." She paused a moment, then added, "I don't want any dinner, thanks. Please don't bother to bring it!"

There was such finality in her speech that Bobby judged it best to take her at her word. She went away without further argument, but she felt as if her heart were bleeding. Rosemary had never locked the door against her before.

Matilda smiled somewhat sarcastically at the empty place at the table when they sat down. "She'll be tame enough presently," she said.

Bobby said nothing and scarcely touched the meal before her.

When it was over, she went to the kitchen to discharge her various duties while Matilda settled down for the nap before the fire so necessary to her health.

The day was cold and cheerless with a biting wind from the east and an overcast sky. The blast seemed to cut right through Bobby as she went out to feed the pigs, but she faced it bravely with her head up. It was no good doing anything else after all. But she carried a heavier burden than usual as she went about her work.

Returning from the poultry-field, an almost overwhelming lassitude came upon her so that she hardly knew how to drag one foot after the other. She fought it with all the strength that remained to her, but when she reached the barn she realized that her heart was beating oddly and she could go no further. Mechanically she set down her bucket and can, and sank on to the corn-bin to rest.