Anne of Ingleside - L. M. Montgomery [85]
Di ventured to open her eyes once as they plotted this. The sleeping world around them looked very strange to her. The fir-trees were dark and alien. The stars were laughing at her. (I don’t like such a big sky. But if I can just hold on a little spell longer I’ll be home. If they find out that I’m not dead they’ll just leave me here and I’ll never get home in the dark alone.)
When the Pennys dropped Di on the veranda of Ingleside they ran like mad. Di did not dare come back to life too soon, but at last she ventured to open her eyes. Yes, she was home. It seemed almost too good to be true. She had been a very, very naughty girl, but she was quite sure she would never be naughty again. She sat up, and the Shrimp came stealthily up the steps and rubbed against her, purring. She hugged him to her. How nice and warm and friendly he was! She did not think she would be able to get in… she knew Susan would have all the doors locked when Dad was away and she dared not wake Susan up at this hour. But she did not mind. The June night was cold enough, but she would get into the hammock and cuddle down with the Shrimp, knowing that near to her, behind those locked doors, were Susan and the boys and Nan… and home.
How strange the world was after dark! Was every one in it asleep but her? The large white roses on the bush by the steps looked like small human faces in the night. The smell of the mint was like a friend. There was a glint of firefly in the orchard. After all, she would be able to brag that she had ‘slept out all night’.
But it was not to be. Two dark figures came through the gate and up the driveway. Gilbert went around by the back way to force open a kitchen window, but Anne came up the steps and stood looking in amazement at the poor mite who sat there, with her armful of cat.
‘Mummy… oh, Mummy!’ She was safe in Mother’s arms.
‘Di, darling! What does this mean?’
‘Oh, Mummy, I was bad… but I’m so sorry… and you were right… but I thought you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow?’
‘Daddy got a telephone from Lowbridge… they have to operate on Mrs Parker tomorrow and Dr Parker wanted him to be there. So we caught the evening train and walked up from the station. Now, tell me…’
The whole story was sobbed out by the time Gilbert had got in and opened the front door. He thought he had effected a very silent entrance, but Susan had ears that could hear a bat squeak when the safety of Ingleside was concerned, and she came limping downstairs with a wrapper over her night-gown.
There were exclamations and explanations, but Anne cut them short.
‘Nobody is blaming you, Susan, dear. Di has been very naughty, but she knows it and I think she has had her punishment. I’m sorry we disturbed you… you must go straight back to bed, and the doctor will see to your ankle.’
‘I was not asleep, Mrs Doctor dear. Do you think I could sleep, knowing where that blessed child was? And ankle or no ankle I am going to get you both a cup of tea.’
‘Mummy,’ said Di, from her own white pillow. ‘Is Daddy ever cruel to you?’
‘Cruel? To me? Why, Di…’
‘The Pennys said he was… said he beat you…’
‘Dear, you know what the Pennys are now, so you know better than to worry your small head over anything they said. There is always a bit of malicious gossip floating round in any place… people like that invent it. You must never bother about it.’
‘Are you going to scold me in the morning, Mummy?’
‘No. I think you’ve learned your lesson. Now go to sleep, precious.’
‘Mummy is so sensible’ was Di’s last conscious thought. But Susan, as she stretched out peacefully in bed, with her ankle expertly and comfortably bandaged, was saying to herself, ‘I must hunt up the fine-tooth comb in the morning… and when I see my fine Miss Jenny Penny I shall give her a ticking off she