Susan by Amy Walton (red queen free ebook .TXT) 📖

He knows his step, he has his little pleasantries for him, and his caresses. When my brother arrives at night tired, and perhaps a little dejected, it is Gambetta who knows how to cheer him. And then, he reminds us of Paris, he is the only thing of value we brought from there. He is an exile as well as we, and has shared our fortunes."

"No wonder you are so fond of him," said Aunt Hannah; "but I see he has no collar. Are you not afraid of losing such a valuable cat?"

"That is often in my mind," replied Mademoiselle. "I fear it may arrive some day, for at times he makes long courses. The next time we have a little money to spare we will buy him one, and cause the address to be graved upon it."

Both Susan and Sophia Jane listened with much interest to all this, and the latter was particularly impressed by it; she looked from Delphine's expressive face to Gambetta's when the collar was mentioned, and seemed about to ask a question, but checked herself suddenly. Grace being now produced from a table drawer, it was found that Mademoiselle's clever fingers had actually made for her a new bonnet, a most elegant one, of drawn grey silk. While Susan was admiring it, Delphine turned to Sophia Jane:

"And the leetle companion?" she said, "has she also a poupee?"

Sophia Jane hung her head, and looked rather ashamed. "Only one without a head," she muttered.

"Ah! that is sad indeed," said Mademoiselle. "It is impossible to fashion a bonnet for a lady without a head, is it not? But when you have a new one, I will also make her a bonnet like this. I have yet some more silk."

Susan could not help giving a glance full of meaning at her companion, but Sophia Jane did not respond to it, except by a dark frown.

"When Mademoiselle La Roche is so kind, Sophia Jane," said Aunt Hannah, "the least you can do is to thank her and look pleasant. You never see Susan frown like that."

On the way home there was a great deal to be said about Mademoiselle Delphine, and Susan was so delighted with Grace's new bonnet that she could not repeat too often how kind it was of her to have made it.

"And aren't you glad she's going to make one for you too?" she asked.

Sophia Jane had been unusually silent and thoughtful since they had started, and made absent replies to all Susan's remarks. She seemed to be turning something over in her mind, and the question had to be repeated before she took any notice. Then she only answered calmly:

"Oh, yes, of course," as if it were the very merest trifle, and she had presents every day, which was by no means the case. Susan looked curiously at her, there were often moments when she did not know what to make of Sophia Jane. Then she said:

"Shall I ask Aunt Hannah to let us stop and look up at Miss Powter's window?"

Miss Powter kept a toy-shop in the High Street, and only a few days ago had shown in her window quite a collection of dolls' heads, both china and wax.

"If you like," said Sophia Jane indifferently.

Susan ran up to Aunt Hannah, who was walking a little way in front, and put her request, which being granted, the little girls were soon gazing in at Mrs Powter's shop-front. The heads were still there, a long row of them, some fair, some dark, some with blue eyes, some with black.

"Now, which should you choose?" asked Susan with much interest; "a wax or a china one?"

"A wax one," said Sophia Jane; "because I could brush her hair."

"But you couldn't wash her," objected Susan; "and china wears best."

Sophia Jane did not seem disposed to linger long, though generally she was never tired of Miss Powter's window. She did not enter into the matter with nearly enough spirit to please Susan, who as they walked on suggested:

"If I were you I should have that one--the last in the row, with fair hair. She's rather like Grace, and you see, as their bonnets will be alike, we might call them sisters."

"If I buy a head at all perhaps I may," was Sophia's puzzling remark.

"Well, but you're sure to," said Susan. "Next week I shall have the half-crown, and we can go and choose it together. You mean to, don't you?"

"Perhaps I do and perhaps I don't," answered Sophia Jane, and could not be induced to say more on the subject.

Certainly she would win that half-crown easily, for her behaviour to Monsieur La Roche was worthy of all praise. Susan even began to think that she was overdoing it a little, for she was now beyond all the others in the class. Earnest effort, and a naturally quick intelligence joined to it, produced such good results that Monsieur had now a habit of turning to Sophia Jane when he asked an unusually difficult question. Could it be entirely for the sake of the half-crown that she made these extraordinary exertions? Susan began to feel jealous of her companion's progress and a little ill-used; for although she tried hard to please Monsieur, it was quite evident that the pupil he was most proud of was Sophia Jane. "If he knew," thought Susan to herself, "why she does it, perhaps he wouldn't be so pleased. And I don't suppose she'll take so much trouble when once she's got the money."

It was a very new thing for Sophia Jane to be more praised than herself; and though Susan would not perhaps have acknowledged that she was sorry to see her good behaviour, it yet made her feel uncomfortable when Monsieur looked so very pleased with her. She had fully intended to be his model pupil herself, an example to all the others, and it was disappointing to give up that place to one whom she had considered so far beneath her. Besides this, it was a little difficult when the time came to part with the half-crown. It would only leave sixpence in her purse--Maria's lucky sixpence with a hole in it--and that she did not want to spend. It was comforting, however, to remember that her birthday was near, when her mother would certainly send her some money as a present. And she was really anxious for Sophia Jane to have a doll to play with, and it would be nice to go and see Mademoiselle Delphine again about the bonnet; and finally, a bargain was a bargain, and decidedly the half-crown had been fairly earned. So, all these things considered, she cheerfully counted out one shilling, two sixpences, and six pennies, and went to look for Sophia Jane.

She was in the sitting-room alone, seated in Aunt Hannah's large arm-chair with an open book in her lap which she was intently studying.

"Here's your money," said Susan, plunging at once into the business on hand.

Sophia Jane neither answered or took the least notice; but as this was often a tiresome way of hers Susan was not surprised, and only repeated a little louder:

"Here's your money!"

Sophia Jane looked up from her book, which Susan now saw to be a French grammar, and said, holding out her hand:

"Give it to me."

"You ought to say `Thank you,'" remarked Susan in the reproving voice she often used to her companion.

Sophia Jane counted the coins carefully, going twice through the pennies to be sure there were the right number. Then she said shortly:

"It's all right."

"Of course it's right!" cried Susan indignantly. But it was not of the least use to be angry with Sophia Jane; she was now dropping the pieces of money one by one into her pocket with a thoughtful air, and seemed hardly to know that Susan was there. The latter waited a moment and then said:

"Shall I ask Aunt Hannah if we may go to Miss Powter's this afternoon?"

"What for?" asked Sophia Jane.

"What for!" repeated Jane in extreme astonishment. "Why, of course, now you've got the money, you'll go and buy the head."

Sophia Jane took up her grammar again and bent her eyes doggedly upon it.

"I'm not going to buy a head," she answered.

This decided reply was so unexpected that for the moment Susan was speechless; for on the whole Sophia Jane had seemed to look forward to the purchase, and they had made many plans together about it, so that she had come to think of it as a settled thing. It made her feel injured and disappointed to be thrust out of the matter in this sudden way, for if the head was not to be bought how would Sophia Jane spend the money? She evidently had some secret plan of her own in which Susan was not to share. With a rising colour in her face she said at last:

"I don't think that's fair."

"It's my money, and I shall do as I like with it," was Sophia Jane's only reply.

"But I shouldn't have given it you," said Susan hotly, "unless you were going to buy a head."

Sophia Jane chuckled. "Well, I've got it now," she said, "and I shall keep it."

"What a naughty, selfish, disagreeable little girl she was!" thought Susan as she stood looking angrily at her.

"What are you going to do with it?" she asked.

"That's a secret," said Sophia Jane, chinking the money gently in her pocket.

"I believe," said Susan, now irritated beyond endurance, "that you mean to spend it all on Billy Stokes' day."

Billy Stokes was a man who came round once a week selling sweetmeats, and it was Sophia Jane's custom to spend her pennies in this way when she had any.

"If you do," continued Susan, getting more cross every moment, "you'll be dreadfully greedy, and most likely you'll make yourself ill."

Sophia Jane only smiled gently and settled herself more comfortably in her chair.

"And I suppose you remember," said Susan, whose voice became louder and more defiant with each sentence, "that if you don't get the head you can't have the bonnet."

The last word was almost shrieked, for she had now quite lost her temper, and at this moment Margaretta looked into the room. Now it was always taken for granted by the household that in any dispute Sophia Jane must be in the wrong; so now Margaretta came at once to this conclusion, in spite of Susan's hot and angry looks.

"How can you be so naughty, Sophia Jane," she said, "as to quarrel with a sweet-tempered child like Susan? You must have been very unkind and tiresome to vex her so much."

Neither of the little girls spoke, for Susan was still feeling too angry, and Sophia Jane took a scolding as a matter of course.

"If you don't say you're sorry," pursued Margaretta, "I sha'n't take you out with me this afternoon. I don't wish to have a sulky little girl with me. Susan shall go alone."

There was no word from Sophia Jane, or even any sign of having heard this speech. At another