samund. You really
are not afraid, so just you take one oar and I will take the other, and
we will get into smooth water and enjoy ourselves for once. It is a
comfort to talk to some one who hasn't a scrap of fear in her."
"Nobody ought to be afraid of you," said Rosamund, taking up an oar as
she spoke; and with a few vigorous strokes the girls got out of the
current into the still, blue waters of the lake.
Poor Lady Jane, who was watching them from her boudoir window, breathed
a sigh of relief.
"I knew that girl was sent to be a blessing to me," she said to herself;
"and my dear old friend's child, too. Oh, why was I given such a
creature as Irene to bring up and look after? I can no more manage her
than an old hen could manage a fierce young ostrich."
Meanwhile Rosamund and Irene began to enjoy themselves. The tea, as it
was called, consisted of a bottle of cold tea; but the rest of the
provisions were first-rate, the most delicious cakes of all sorts and
descriptions, with a few other dainties in the shape of sandwiches. The
girls ate and talked, and Irene, perhaps for the first time in her life,
became almost rational in her behavior.
"And now," said Irene, "I want you to tell me again what you said about
mother being naughty, because it will give me a most tremendous hold
over her. I wish you would tell me some of the sort of things she used
to do; because if I can say, 'I got it from you, mother, and you are the
one to blame,' it would be an immense pull. I wish you would tell me.
Do, won't you?"
"She never did the sort of things you have done," said Rosamund.
"How in the world do you know that?"
"Well, for instance, she was never cruel."
"I cruel? Well, I like that! I often and often put slugs and snails and
worms, and that sort of thing, out of the path for fear any one should
tread on them. I cruel?"
"You are in one way," said Rosamund. "I am not a scrap afraid of you,
and I say you are cruel when you terrify the servants and your poor
mother, who has no one but you, and"----
"We will get back into the current if you say another word," said Irene.
"No, we won't," replied Rosamund, "for I will keep this oar, and you
cannot wrench it from me."
She grasped it more firmly as she spoke. Irene looked at her for a
moment, and her small, wild, charming face seemed to lighten as though
with sudden passion. Then she broke into a merry laugh.
"I declare it is refreshing to hear you," she sai
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