A wild light would come into Nan’s eyes, and her face would turn pale; but ever and always, before she could say the fatal word, Augusta would manage to fix her bold, bright eyes on the little girl’s face, and Nan would drop her head and say:
Nevertheless, she was anything but happy, and she thought of the Asprays as a possible means of relief. She made up her mind to see them for herself before she went to the country; not to speak to them—oh no! she would not do that for worlds: that time would not come until she had fully made up her mind that she would give up the Richmonds, whom she so dearly loved, and would cast in her lot with the Asprays. But she must see them.
One day, with her heart beating, and with great outward _sang-froid_, she asked Mrs. Richmond if she knew where they lived. Mrs. Richmond told her.
“Quite close to this,” she said; “just at the corner turning into the square. It is a very large house with green railings round it; but, my darling, you need have nothing to do with them.”
“Oh! I know. I only wanted to be sure where they lived,” answered Nan.
By-and-by, when tragic things happened, Mrs. Richmond remembered this remark of Nancy’s.
That day the little girl was sent out for a message with Susan. Susan the housemaid was very fond of Nan; she had quite a respect for her since that interesting time when she went with her to see Mr. Pryor and Phoebe and Mrs. Vincent gave her tea in the kitchen.
“I am so glad we are out together, Susan!” said Nan. “You need not hurry back very soon, need you?”
“No, miss—that is, I expect not. I don’t think there is anything very special doing this afternoon. I can stay with you for a little—an hour or so, anyhow.”
“Oh! that will do splendidly,” said Nan. “You know, Susan, I like you very much.”
“And so do I like you, Miss Nancy; but it is more than I do Miss Augusta. We none of us can bear her—nasty, sly young lady!”
Poor Nan felt a fierce desire to corroborate these words, but she remembered her duty as a soldier prevented her speaking evil even of her enemies, and she restrained herself.
“We need not talk about Augusta now, need we?” she said.
“No, my dear Miss Nancy; but anybody with half an eye can see that she worries you almost past bearing. Dear, dear! there are things I could tell of her if I liked; but I don’t want to be spiteful.”