A Little Country Girl Part 17

"Indeed, he does. He came that time when you saw him, the middle of August; and he wrote Berry a note to say that he must speak to us, and that if we didn't meet him somewhere, he should appeal to Mrs. Joy. We had to consent, of course, and we gave him all the money we had, and we thought he was gone; but just a few days after he appeared again on the Polo Ground, and handed Berry a note, which he pretended she had dropped out of the carriage. But it was really from himself; and he said that he had lost the money we gave him on a bet which had turned out badly, and he must have a hundred dollars more. You can't think how hard it has been for us to raise all this money, Cannie. Berry has her own income, but her mother likes to know what she does with it; and mamma chooses my things for me, so I don't have much of an allowance. We have been at our wits' end sometimes to know how to manage."

"And how did you?"

"Berry sold a diamond ring which she doesn't often wear, so her mother has not missed it, and I put in thirty dollars, which was all I had; and he went away, for good as we hoped. He promised solemnly not to come to Newport, or ask us for money again this season; and we were so relieved.

For a few days I was almost happy," with a miserable little laugh. "But what fools we were to believe him! I can't imagine why we should, for he has deceived us all through. I don't think he has spoken the truth once from the very beginning. Berry came just now to tell me that he is back already. She saw him herself this morning in Thames Street. He didn't see her, for she was in the close coupe, and he was looking in at a shop window; but, of course, he has come for money, and neither of us has any more. We shall have to refuse, and he will go straight to papa, and then--oh, what will become of me?" She buried her face again in the pillows.

Candace was trembling with a mixture of sensations,--pity for her cousin, indignation at this mean persecution of which she was the victim, and withal a fine touch of scorn over the weakness which was so easily played upon. With all her country breeding and ignorance of the world and its ways, there was in our little maiden a large share of the strong, self-respecting pride of her ancestry. _She_ would never have stooped to buy the silence of a low knave like this Alexander; and her clear truthfulness of soul indicated at once the single, straight, unerring clew which could lead out of this labyrinth of difficulties.

"Georgie," she said, after a moment's thought, "there is just one thing for you to do. You must tell Cousin Kate all about this."

"Oh, Candace, never!" screamed Georgie. "Tell mamma! Have mamma know!

I'd rather die at once. You have no idea how she despises concealments and deceits; and I have had to plot and contrive, almost to tell lies, all through this wretched time. She would never get over it. Even if she _said_ she forgave me, I should always read a sort of contempt in her eyes whenever she looked at me. Oh, mamma, mamma! And I love her so!

Candace, I couldn't."

"It is the only way," repeated Candace, firmly.

"You have promised not to tell!" exclaimed her cousin, starting up from her rec.u.mbent position. "You promised me solemnly! You'll not forget that, will you, Cannie? You'll not tell mother yourself?"

"Certainly not. What use would it be for me to tell her? It would be only next best to having Alexander do it. But you,--you, Georgie,--that is a different thing."

"Even Gertrude said she couldn't advise me to tell mamma," continued Georgie.

"Gertrude! Does Gertrude know about it then?"

"Yes; I had to tell somebody, I was so miserable. It was only a little while ago that I told her. I kept it to myself for a long time."

"Gertrude!" repeated Candace, unable to hide her amazement. "And what did she say?"

"Oh, she was horrified, of course. Any one would be; and she threw a great deal of blame on Berry. I don't think she has ever liked her since. She always goes out of the room when she comes. She wanted me to do all sorts of impossible things, such as going to the chief of police.

But about mamma, she felt just as I did. You see we both think so much of mamma, Cannie; we care so much about having her approve of us. You haven't any mother; so perhaps you can't understand."

"No," said Candace, "I have no mother. Perhaps it makes a difference.

But there is another thing I can't understand, and that is how girls who _have_ a mother--such a mother as yours, Georgie--can be content to keep her love by means of a cheat. If I did have a mother, I should want her to know all about me, and approve of me honestly, not because I was hiding things from her. Besides,"--there was a little choke here,--"I think mothers can stand a good deal, and still keep on loving their children. I don't believe Cousin Kate would be hard on you, Georgie, or despise you because you have been foolish."

"You don't half know mamma," repeated Georgie. "She has such high ideas about conduct. It would half kill her to know that I had even spoken to a man like this Alexander."

"Of course she would be sorry," persisted Candace. "Of course she would rather that you had never got into this sc.r.a.pe. But she is so just always, as well as kind. She always sees both sides. She will understand how it began,--that Berry over-persuaded you--"

"What makes you say that?" interrupted Georgie. "I never told you that Berry over-persuaded me."

"No; but I knew it all the same. It's a matter of course," said Candace, too deeply in earnest to pick her words, or realize what a very uncomplimentary thing she was saying, "Berry Joy always makes you do whatever she likes. Cousin Kate will realize how it was in a minute."

"Well, never mind that. I want to talk about mamma. Don't you see that if I did tell her she couldn't do anything unless she told papa? and that is the very thing I want to prevent. Oh, what was that?" as the clock began to strike. "Six! They will be here in ten minutes. Oh, dear!

how can I meet her? My eyes are swelled out of my head. She will be sure to notice." And Georgie hurried to the looking-gla.s.s, and began to smooth the tangled fluffs of hair on her forehead.

Cannie's heart was hot within her, but she wisely forbore further remonstrance. She brought a basin of water and a sponge, and helped Georgie to bathe and cool her tear-stained face, and to arrange her dishevelled locks. Then she kissed her softly, and moved across the room to the window. Georgie stole after her, and stood by her side. It was nearly time for the travellers to arrive from the train. A cool sea-wind was stirring. Through the trees a red glow could be seen in the west, where the sun was nearing the horizon.

There was a sound of wheels, and the Frewens' village-cart drove rapidly in and set Marian down on the porch. As it drove away, another carriage met and pa.s.sed it at the gate. It was the coupe, and Mrs. Gray and Gertrude were inside. With a shriek of joy Marian shot down the gravel walk to meet them. John stopped his horses, Mrs. Gray jumped out, and Marian sprang into her arms. The lookers-on at the window above could see the whole pretty picture,--the lovely sunny-faced mother, the glad child; they could hear Mrs. Gray's sweet laugh as she bent over and kissed Marian again and again.

"Oh, Georgie, Georgie," cried Candace, her eyes suddenly br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with tears, "look at that, look at them! Was there ever any one so sweet and loving and dear as Cousin Kate? See how she holds Marian in her arms, how she kisses her! How _can_ you be afraid of her? How can you doubt one minute that she loves you enough to forgive anything? Oh, if I had such a mother, would I stay away from her, and cheat and conceal, and trust a girl like Berry Joy, and a bad man like this Alexander, and not trust her?--not go to her first of all for help and advice? Think how good and kind she is, how glad to help everybody,--poor people, servants; think how lovely she has been to me,--and, of course, she loves you a hundred times more! How can you hesitate one minute? Oh, go straight to her, dear, dear Georgie; tell her all about it, your own self. She will know just what to do. She will make it all right for you. Think how happy you will be not to be afraid of anything any more. Oh, Georgie, do, do!"

"Why, Candace, I hardly know you," faltered Georgie; and she spoke truly, for Candace in her intense eagerness seemed to grow out of and beyond herself, and looked taller, older, quite unlike the shy Candace of every day. Then the pa.s.sion of her appeal caught hold of Georgie's weakness. Deep feeling is contagious, and there are moments when cowards become temporarily brave. Candace's rush of words, her mother's tender look and att.i.tude as she held Marian close to her, or, it may be, some swift impulse from her good angel, seemed to melt her out of her mood of resistance. How it happened she could not have told, she never could tell; but a sudden strength came to her, and the next moment she was out in the hall. Mrs. Gray, slowly coming upstairs, was clasped in a wild, despairing embrace.

"Oh, mamma! I want you. Oh, mamma! I've something to tell you," cried Georgie. Her mother, whose smile had changed to a look of pale amazement, could not speak. She suffered herself to be swept away. The door of Georgie's room closed behind them; and Gertrude, who was following close behind, was left on the landing to confront the equally surprised Candace.

"What is it? What is Georgie going to say to mamma?" demanded Gertrude, in a frightened whisper.

"She is going to tell her about that horrible man who has been making her so unhappy," replied Candace.

"Going to tell mamma! oh, how did she ever get courage?"

"I begged her--I told her it was the only way."

"You! why, Cannie, how did you dare?" cried Gertrude. "I never would have ventured to do that."

"So Georgie said," replied Candace, simply; "but I was sure the thing to do was for her to go straight to Cousin Kate."

CHAPTER XI.

FIVE AND ONE MAKE SIX.

A LONG hush followed these few words of explanation. Gertrude was too stunned to ask further questions. Mechanically she moved toward her room, and took off her hat and coat; but all the time she was washing her hands and smoothing her hair, her ears were strained for sounds from Georgie's room, which was next her own. There was very little to be heard,--only a low, continuous murmur of conversation, broken now and then by a louder word; but all so subdued that Candace, sitting on the staircase seat, caught nothing. Marian, rushing up after her mother, had been stopped by the explanation that Georgie was not well, and wanted to be alone with mamma. After a little natural outburst of impatience, she too seemed to catch the vague sense of crisis that was in the air, and settled down quietly, with her head on Candace's knee, to wait.

It was a long waiting. The red sunset sky faded into pallor, and the stars came out. Gertrude, restless with suspense, joined the other two.

Both she and Candace were too nervous for ordinary talk, and Marian's presence precluded any mention of the subject with which their thoughts were full; so the trio sat mostly in silence. Frederic was heard to pa.s.s down the upper entry and announce dinner; but Mrs. Gray only answered by the word "Presently," and did not open the door. The shadows grew darker as the dusk deepened, till after a while the gas in the hall was lighted, when they fled to the remoter corners, and consoled themselves by casting an added blackness wherever they were permitted to fall,--the only consolation possible to shadows.

To the anxious watchers on the window bench the time seemed very long; and in fact it was nearly eight o'clock before Georgie's door was heard to open, and Mrs. Gray to pa.s.s across the hall to her own room. She only stayed there a few minutes. The girls sprang up to receive her as she came downstairs, and the older ones looked anxiously in her face. She was tired and paler than usual, and her eyes showed that she had been crying; but her smile was brave and clear as she put her arm round Candace, and gave her a long kiss.

"You must be half starved, my dears," she said. "Georgie has a bad headache, and I have sent her to bed. She won't come down again to-night; we will have dinner at once."

They went to dinner, accordingly. Marian held fast to her mother's hand; but Mrs. Gray kept the other arm round Candace, and there was a warmth and tenderness in the touch which thrilled through Cannie's heart. She felt, without asking why, that Cousin Kate loved her more than usual that night, and it made her happy.

Jane had been deeply aggrieved at the long delay of the dinner; but she was a woman of resources as well as principle, and, as a member in good and regular standing of the Second Baptist Church, knew that forgiveness of injuries was a branch of Christian duty. She reminded herself, beside, that "Missis wasn't often that inconsiderate, and most probably there was reasons this time," which made it easier to overlook her offence. So she kept some things back, and took some things off, and managed to send in the food in an eatable condition, instead of letting it calcine into cinders as a less conscientious and capable cook would have done.

Marian went to bed; but still Mrs. Gray said not a word about Georgie and her confession. She looked weary and preoccupied, and Gertrude fancied--but perhaps it was only fancy--that there was a shade of coldness in her mother's manner towards herself. They were all glad when the time came to separate; but before she slept that night, Mrs. Gray sent a telegram to her husband.

Mr. Gray appeared next day on the earliest possible train. There was a long consultation in the library, in which Georgie took a part. She came out with her eyes red with crying, but somehow looking relieved, too, and with a peaceful look in her face which had been absent from it of late. Candace, pa.s.sing her on the stairs, averted her eyes shyly, and was altogether astonished at being caught in a tight embrace and kissed several times.

"It's all right," Georgie whispered. "Papa has been, oh, so kind! and mamma is like an angel to me. You were just right; and I never can thank you enough, you dear!"

"Oh, how glad I am!" cried Cannie, clasping her hands together in sudden relief.

Georgie said no more; she gave Cannie another kiss, and hurried away.