The Cottage in the Woods Read Online Free Page B

in my mind, that dire warning: “My eye will be upon you.” This, taken with the knowledge that Nurse would use anything, be it truth or falsehood, to harm me, left me feeling more alone and friendless than I ever had been in my life. I covered my face with my paws and gave in to bitter tears.
    Even so, I knew that I would never hear a word of reproach from Papa. What would he say to me if I could tell him my troubles tonight? The smallest of smiles started on my lips. I could almost hear his voice, deep, jovial, soothing, telling me that all was not lost; that Mr. Vaughn had not yet given up on me; that morning would bring a fresh start and I would surely do better tomorrow. I pictured him in his rocker by the fireplace, his lap robe over his knees, and it seemed to me as if I smelled the sweet, pungent smoke of his pipe. I felt myself tearing up again.
    I could not let Papa down. There must be a way—a way I could earn a place of trust with the Vaughns, a way to win out against Nurse’s nefarious accusations. What would it take? I wondered. Probably a long time, if they were going to accept my word over Nurse’s. A long time of doing well and not makingmistakes. It seemed impossible, and yet Papa would want me to try. He’d want me to do my best no matter what. And then I thought of Teddy’s poor, frightened little face, of him being persecuted by Nurse and his parents not even knowing it. Maybe I could be his friend as well as his teacher, and maybe there would be something I could do for him.
    And though in this house I had not a single soul to confide in, I did have one place to unburden myself. I wiped away my tears with the back of my paw, and got out of bed. There on the writing desk lay my new journal, a parting gift from Papa, bound in plain brown cloth and locked with a small brass padlock.
    I got the tiny key from my shoe and unlocked it, opening it to the first page, blank and patiently waiting for me. Picking up the pen, and dipping it in the ink, I began the habit that has served me so well to this day, lightening my burdens and preserving my memories, that of writing nightly in my journal, my best, and often my only, confidant. It assists me even now as I tell this story, which has since become so clouded by gossip and myth. I have only to reach into my trunk and open one of the old volumes, covers worn and pages curling, to make the years fall away.
    I wrote late into that night, until my eyelids drooped, and my heart felt emptied of all its burdens. Then I knelt beside the bed, keeping my eyes open for fear of whatever might be lurking in the dark, and said my prayers. I was faced with the uncomfortable thought of that which I had been taught from cubhood: that one must pray for one’s enemies. I had never had an enemy until now, but with Nurse’s sneering image fresh in my mind, a prayer for her seemed a very bitter pill to swallow. Igrappled with my feelings until my lips grudgingly formed the words “God bless Nurse,” and I mentally choked them down. My mind at peace, I was soon sleeping the sleep of the innocent. I can picture myself now, lying there peacefully, eyes closed, and all unknowing. Little could I have imagined then what challenges lay ahead for me, or what tears I would shed in the times to come.

    Despite the fact that I had stayed up so late, I awoke early to the song of a wren outside my window, an anthem of such hopefulness and buoyancy that I immediately threw back the drapes and opened the doors to my little balcony. The air was alive with birdsong. The sun’s golden rays glimmered through the laced tree branches, creating a filigree of blue shadows on the lawn. I breathed in the essence of countless delightful scents borne on the breeze. I began to hum a little tune as I performed my toilet, and was still humming when one of the maids arrived to tell me my breakfast was served in the kitchen. She was a young bear about my size, only very attractive, with a pleasingly