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diff --git a/old/8151-h.htm.2021-01-26 b/old/8151-h.htm.2021-01-26 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa00da7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8151-h.htm.2021-01-26 @@ -0,0 +1,4669 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Miss Merivale's Mistake, by Mrs. Henry Clarke, M.a. + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Merivale's Mistake, by Mrs. Henry Clarke + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Miss Merivale's Mistake + +Author: Mrs. Henry Clarke + + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8151] +This file was first posted on June 20, 2003 +Last Updated: November 3, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS MERIVALE'S MISTAKE *** + + + + +Text file produced by Jonathan Ingram, Beth Trapaga, Charles Franks, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + MISS MERIVALE’S MISTAKE + </h1> + <h2> + By Mrs. Henry Clarke, M.A. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="middle"> + <p> + {Illustration: PAULINE SAT DOWN IN THE LOW CHAIR BY THE WINDOW AND TOOK + UP THE PHOTOGRAPH FRAME.}(<b>There are no illustrations in this version</b>) + </p> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. A STARTLING DISCOVERY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. WOODCOTE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. A VISIT TO KENTISH TOWN. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. TOM AND RHODA MEET. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. “A MERRY HEART GOES ALL THE WAY.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. PAULINE’S DIPLOMACY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. APPLES OF SODOM. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. AN INVITATION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. PAULINE HAS HER SUSPICIONS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. A CONFESSION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. POLLY SMITH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. CONCLUSION. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. A STARTLING DISCOVERY. + </h2> + <p> + Miss Merivale had not been paying much heed to the eager talk that was + going on between Rose and Pauline Smythe at the window. + </p> + <p> + The long drive from Woodcote had made her head ache, and she was drowsily + wishing that Miss Smythe would get her the cup of tea she had promised, + when the sound of a name made her suddenly sit bolt upright, her kind old + face full of anxious curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Rhoda Sampson, the creature calls herself,” Pauline was saying in her + clear, high-pitched voice. “Her people live in Kentish Town, or somewhere + in the dim wilds about there. You would know it by just looking at her.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she come from Kentish Town every day?” asked Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Three times a week. On the top of an omnibus, one may be sure. And she + imbibes facts from <i>The Civil Service Geography</i> all the way. I found + the book in her bag yesterday. I believe she wants to get into the Post + Office eventually. It is a worthy ambition.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom are you talking of, my dears?” asked Miss Merivale from her seat by + the fire. Pauline turned round with a little stare. Miss Merivale was so + quiet and unassuming a personage that she had got into the habit of + ignoring her. “Of Clare’s new amusement, Miss Merivale,” she said, with a + laugh. Her laugh, like her voice, was a trifle hard. “It was scientific + dressmaking when I was at Woodcote last, you remember, Rose dear. Now it + is a society. Clare is secretary.” + </p> + <p> + “But you spoke of some girl who came here,” persisted Miss Merivale. + </p> + <p> + Pauline lifted her delicately-pencilled eyebrows. “Oh, that is Clare’s + typewriter. She is part of the joke. If you saw Clare and her together + over their letters, you would think they were reforming the universe. It + hasn’t dawned on poor Sampson yet that Clare will get tired of the whole + business in a month. It is lucky she has the Post Office to fall back on. + Clare is exactly what she used to be at school, Rose, ‘everything by + starts and nothing long.’ It amuses me to watch her.” + </p> + <p> + “She doesn’t tire of you, Pauline,” said Rose fondly. + </p> + <p> + Pauline frowned a little. She did not care to be reminded, even by + foolish, flattering little Rose, that she was, in sober fact, nothing more + nor less than Clare’s paid companion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we get on,” she said coolly. “We each leave the other to go her own + way in peace. And it suits Lady Desborough in Rome to say that Clare is + living with her old governess. People think of me as a spectacled lady of + an uncertain age, and everybody is satisfied. But you would like some tea. + I wish Clare was in. She isn’t afraid of that gas stove. I am ashamed to + confess that I am. Come out with me while I light it, Rosamunda mia. And + you shall make the tea. I never can remember how many spoonfuls to put in. + How pretty you look in blue! I wish I was eighteen, with hair the colour + of ripe wheat, then I would wear blue too.” + </p> + <p> + She went off, laughing, with Rose to the tiny kitchen on the other side of + the passage. The sitting-room was the largest room in the little Chelsea + flat, and that was smaller than any of the rooms at Woodcote; but the + diminutive dimensions of the place only added to the fascinations of it in + Rose’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + As she took the cups and saucers down from the toy-like dresser and put + them on the lilliputian table between the gas stove and the door, she felt + a thrill of ineffable pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Pauline, I wish I lived here with you. It’s so dull at Woodcote. And + it seems to get duller every day.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little Rose, it must be dull for you. Clare and I often talk of you + with pity. Clare pities you the most. A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous + kind, you know. She will have to go back to Desborough Park when her + mother returns, I suppose. The flat is only rented for six months. I wish”—She + stopped to take off the lid of the tea-kettle and peer earnestly in. “When + a kettle boils, little bubbles come to the top, don’t they? I have got a + notebook where I write down interesting little details of that sort. They + will come useful by and by, if I have to live in a flat by myself. I + shouldn’t be able to keep a regular servant.” + </p> + <p> + “But a regular servant would spoil it all, even if you could afford it,” + said Rose, with sparkling eyes. “We couldn’t come out here and get tea + like this, if you had a servant, Pauline.”. + </p> + <p> + “She would have to stand in the passage, wouldn’t she?” said Pauline, + looking round the tiny kitchen, with a laugh. “But how would you like to + get tea for yourself every day, little Rose? Clare seems to like it, + though. Her mother wanted Mrs. Richards to stay with us all day, but Clare + begged that she might go at three o’clock. And Clare is maid-of-all-work + after that. It seems to come natural to her to know what kitchen things + are meant for. Now, if you will make the tea, we will go back to your + aunt. This kettle is certainly boiling at last.” + </p> + <p> + Rose carefully measured the tea into the pretty Japanese teapot. Pauline + leant against the dresser and watched her with her hands clasped at the + back of her head. Pauline was not pretty,—her features were badly + cut and her skin was sallow,—but she made a pretty picture standing + there. Her dress of ruddy brown was made in a graceful, artistic fashion, + and was just the right colour to set off her dark eyes and dark, wavy + hair. Rose thought her friend beautiful. She had adored her from the first + day they met, when Pauline was junior English governess at Miss Jephson’s + Collegiate School for Young Ladies at Brighton, and Rose was a frightened, + lonely, homesick child of fourteen, tasting her first experience of + boarding-school. + </p> + <p> + Pauline had had many adorers among the younger girls, and a holiday rarely + passed without her receiving some delightful invitations. It was + spitefully noticed by the senior English governess that she was very + rarely invited twice to the same house; but after Rose came to the school, + it became a matter of course that Pauline should spend her holidays at + Woodcote. She had no home of her own, as she often sadly told the girls. + She very seldom said more than that, but it was understood in the school + that the seal ring she wore at her watch-chain belonged to her father, one + of the Norfolk Smythes; and the beautiful woman with powdered hair, whose + miniature hung in her bedroom, was her great-grandmother, the Marquise de + Villeroy, who perished on the scaffold during the Reign of Terror. + </p> + <p> + It was considered a high privilege by Pauline’s band of worshippers to be + allowed to hold this miniature in their hands; but on Rose a still higher + privilege had been once conferred. She had worn the miniature tied round + her neck by a blue ribbon when she acted a part in the French play Miss + Jephson’s pupils produced every Christmas. That was in Rose’s last year at + school. She left at the end of the next term, as her aunt was in failing + health and wanted her at home. + </p> + <p> + Soon Pauline left too, and after a brief experience as a private + governess, commenced to give visiting lessons in London. She lived at + first with a cousin of Miss Jephson’s, a clergyman’s widow; but the + arrangement did not somehow prove a satisfactory one, and it was a relief + to them both when Clare Desborough, whose old admiration for Pauline had + revived on meeting her in London, had begged her to share the little flat + her mother had consented to rent for her, while the family spent the + winter in Italy. + </p> + <p> + Pauline found the freedom of a flat delightful, and looked forward with a + sinking heart to the day of Lady Desborough’s return. Her only hope was + that Rose might be induced to entreat her aunt to let her live in London, + so that she might study music at the Royal Academy. Pauline was sure that + Miss Merivale would consent, if only Rose’s pleading was urgent enough. + Rose had had her own way all her life. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: PAULINE LEANT AGAINST THE DRESSER AND WATCHED HER.} + </p> + <p> + “There, it is quite ready now,” Rose said, as she finished cutting the + bread and butter. “If you will move a little, Pauline, I will carry the + tray in.” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to do that,” said Pauline lazily. “What will your aunt think, + Rosie? I am not treating you like a visitor, am I?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I wasn’t a visitor,” said Rose, with a faint little sigh. “I envy + Clare more than I ever envied anybody. She must be having a lovely time.” + “It will soon be over, poor dear. I wish”—Pauline stopped again, and + began a fresh sentence. “You and I would get on better than Clare and I + do, Rose. We like the same things. She does not care a bit for music, but + I can’t live without it. What delightful times we could have together, + Rose! But I don’t suppose your aunt would hear of it. She is more + old-fashioned in her ideas than Lady Desborough.” + </p> + <p> + Rose had clasped her hands together. “Oh, Pauline, it would be too + delightful! Would you really like to have me? Aunt Lucy might let me come, + though I’m afraid she could not get on without me. And there’s Tom!” + </p> + <p> + Pauline’s dark eyes grew quizzical “I didn’t know you were afraid of Tom, + Rose. Doesn’t he think everything you do is right? Was there ever a little + girl so spoiled by a big brother?” + </p> + <p> + “But he thinks I ought always to be at home to wait on him. You said the + other day that he was selfish, Pauline.” + </p> + <p> + “All brothers are, my dear,” returned Pauline oracularly, “and it is + sisters who make them so. Come, strike a blow for your liberty, Rose. You + are not really wanted at home, and you are wasting your days in that dull + little country place. Wouldn’t you like to live here with me?” + </p> + <p> + Rose’s face was answer enough. She drew a deep breath before she spoke. + “If only Aunt Lucy wouldn’t miss me too much, Pauline! But she’s not + strong. I don’t think she could do without me.” + </p> + <p> + “She would be better if she came up to London oftener and had a fuller + life,” returned Pauline, with decision. “Her ill health has always been + mainly imaginary, Rose. When people have nothing else to do, they sink + into invalidism. But you are making me lose my character as a hostess + altogether. Let us take in the tea. Your aunt will wonder what we have + been doing.” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Merivale had not noticed that the tea was a long time in making + its appearance. She was still absorbed in anxious thought when the girls + came in, and after a little while she managed to lead the conversation + back to Clare and her typewriter. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Powell suggested that we should have the programmes for the concert + typewritten, Rose. He said it would be cheaper. Could you give me the + address of Miss Sampson, Miss Smythe?” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t advise you to employ her, Miss Merivale,” returned Pauline in + a voice that had a sharp edge to it. For some reason or other, Clare’s + assistant was evidently not a favourite of hers. “I don’t believe she + knows her business properly. Lady Desborough’s sister picked her up for + Clare.” + </p> + <p> + “I might try her. Could you give me her address, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + Pauline opened her eyes. It was utterly unlike Miss Merivale to be so + persistent. “I am afraid I can’t, Miss Merivale. I know nothing whatever + about her, except that she has just come from Australia with some + relations who kept a small shop out there. It was foolish of Mrs. Metcalfe + to send us such a person. There are so many ladies who would be glad to do + the work.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale had caught her breath sharply as Pauline mentioned + Australia, but neither of the girls noticed her agitation. Rose had + wandered to the window, and was looking with delight at the vast expanse + of chimney-tops, and the little glimpse of the river, grey under the cold + March sky. And Pauline was slowly stirring her tea, with her eyes cast + down. She was thinking whether it would be wise to drop a hint about + Rose’s unhappiness at Woodcote. She had just made up her mind to say a + guarded word or two, when she found, to her sharp annoyance, that Miss + Merivale’s mind was still running on Rhoda Sampson. + </p> + <p> + “She comes here three times a week, I think you said, my dear?” asked Miss + Merivale in her gentle voice. “Does she come in the mornings? She has her + meals here, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + Pauline laughed. “We haven’t invited her yet. I told Clare she must draw + the line somewhere. There is a Lockhart’s Coffee House round the corner, + and she goes there. What makes you interested in her, Miss Merivale? If + you want some typewriting done, I can easily get a proper person for you. + Mrs. Metcalfe got Sampson because she is so cheap. She comes to Clare, on + Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, for some ridiculous sum. If she knew + her work, she would have wanted more. In fact, she told Clare that she + knew very little. Rose, what are you looking at? Do you find the company + of chimney-tops exhilarating? I wish our flat was in the front of the + building. Then we could have a good view of the river.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a delightful glimpse of it here,” Rose said, without turning her + head. + </p> + <p> + Pauline smiled and looked at Miss Merivale. “Rose is in the mood to find + even London smuts fascinating,” she said. “Could you spare her to us for a + night or two next week, Miss Merivale? Joachim is playing at St. James’s + Hall, and I want Rose to hear him.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale started from a deep reverie. “Tom talked of bringing her up + for Joachim’s concert,” she said. “But if Rose would like to stay a day or + two—But have you room for a visitor?” + </p> + <p> + Rose had come from the window, her eyes sparkling at Pauline’s suggestion + that she should stay with her and Clare. She now broke merrily in. + “Clare’s two cousins stayed with them for a night last week, Aunt Lucy. + You don’t know how elastic a flat is. Does she, Pauline? Oh, do let me!” + </p> + <p> + If Rose had been pleading to be let out of prison she could not have + spoken more earnestly. Another time Miss Merivale might have been hurt, + but just then she was hardly able to attend to what Rose was saying. + </p> + <p> + “We must ask Tom about the concert,” she said. “You can write to Miss + Smythe to-morrow. Would any day next week be convenient, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Any day,” said Pauline smilingly. “But the sooner the better. Be sure and + bring your violin, Rose. I want Mrs. Metcalfe to hear you play. She is a + brilliant performer herself. We must have a musical afternoon while you + are here. Don’t you think you could spare her for a week, Miss Merivale? + We shall have so much to do.” + </p> + <p> + “We will see, my dear,” said Miss Merivale, getting up. “A week sounds a + long time. But we will see. We must go now, Rosie. The carriage will be + waiting. You and Miss Desborough must come and see us, my dear. I am sure + even a day in the country would be good for you. Don’t you pine for the + country now the spring is coming?” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. WOODCOTE. + </h2> + <p> + The drive home to Woodcote was a very silent one. Miss Merivale and Rose + were both absorbed in their own thoughts, and neither of them even dimly + divined the thoughts of the other. + </p> + <p> + It had never entered Miss Merivale’s head that Rose, her pet and darling, + her little nurse and helper, could be longing to live with Pauline in + London; and how could Rose have guessed that her aunt’s thoughts were + fixed on Rhoda Sampson, the girl Pauline had spoken of in such + contemptuous terms? She supposed her aunt was asleep, she sat so still in + the corner of the carriage with her eyes closed, and she took good care + not to disturb her. She was glad to be free to dwell on the delightful + visions Pauline had called up for her. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale roused herself as the carriage turned in at the gates of the + drive. The March twilight had gathered thickly, and lights were shining + from the windows of the low, irregular house. They could see them + twinkling through the trees. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if Tom is back from Guilford yet, Rosie. He will scold us for + being late. Oh, how sweet and fresh the air is here! Don’t you pity those + girls cooped up in that stuffy little flat? You must not promise to stay a + week with them, Rosie. You would find two days quite long enough.” + </p> + <p> + Rose was saved from attempting to answer this by the carriage stopping + before the wide porch. A short, fair-haired young man, with a pleasant + face and merry blue eyes, was waiting to open the door. + </p> + <p> + “Auntie, you have no business to be out as late as this and an east wind + blowing,” he said, in a playful scolding tone. “Rose, you should not have + allowed it. But come in. There is a jolly fire in the dining-room, and tea + is quite ready. Next time you go to London, I mean to go with you.” + </p> + <p> + The dining-room looked a picture of comfort, with the curtains drawn, and + the table laid for tea. Miss Merivale never had late dinner except when + she gave a dinner party. She liked the simple, old-fashioned ways she had + been accustomed to in her youth. But the table was laid with dainty care; + the swinging lamps shone upon shining silver that had been in the family + for two hundred years, on an old Worcester tea-set that had been bought by + Miss Merivale’s grandmother, on bowls of early spring flowers gathered by + Rose that morning from the beautiful old garden at the back of the house. + Everything in the room spoke of long years of quiet prosperity. As Miss + Merivale took her accustomed seat at the tea-table and looked about her, + and then at Tom sitting opposite her, all unwitting of the terrible blow + that might be about to fall on him, she could scarcely keep back the sob + that rose to her lips. + </p> + <p> + Tom met her glance without seeing the trouble in it, and he smiled + cheerfully back at her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, how did the shopping get on?” he asked, “Did you remember the + seeds, Rose?” + </p> + <p> + Rose gave him a guilty look. “Oh, Tom, I quite forgot. Did you want them?” + </p> + <p> + He looked vexed for a moment, but only for a moment. “It does not matter. + I can write. I promised Jackson he should have them this week. Cousin Ann + has a wonderful show of anemones this year, Aunt Lucy. The square bed in + the back garden is brilliant with them. We must try them here again next + year. I don’t intend to be satisfied till we have beaten Cousin Ann.” + </p> + <p> + “She says the soil here doesn’t suit anemones; they are fanciful flowers,” + returned Miss Merivale. “Then you went to Broadhurst, Tom?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I just managed it. Old Mrs. Harding was there. She is failing very + fast, poor old soul. Part of the time she thought I was Cousin James, Aunt + Lucy. She wanted to know when I heard last from my sister Lydia.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale put her cup down with a little clatter. Her hand had begun + to tremble. “You are very much like James, Tom,” she said, glancing at the + portrait that hung on the wainscoted wall just above him, “and you get + more like him every day.” + </p> + <p> + It was the portrait of her only brother she was looking at. Tom and Rose + were her cousin’s children, though they called her aunt. She had adopted + them when Rose was a baby and Tom a sturdy lad of five. Woodcote had been + their home ever since. Tom had grown up knowing that the estate was to be + his at Miss Merivale’s death. James Merivale had died young, ten years + before his father; and Lydia, Miss Merivale’s only sister, had married + against her father’s wishes, and had been disowned by him. After vainly + trying to gain his forgiveness, she and her husband emigrated to + Australia, and for some years nothing was heard of them. Then Lydia wrote + to her father, telling him that she was a widow, and begging him to send + her money that she might come home. The stern old man burnt the letter + without answering it and without showing it to his daughter Lucy, and the + next news came in a letter written by Lydia to her sister. + </p> + <p> + She had married again, her husband’s partner, James Sampson, and had a + little daughter, whom she had named Rhoda, after her mother. The letter + asked for money, and Miss Merivale sent what she could, though she had + little to send, for her father demanded a strict account of all she spent. + </p> + <p> + She gave him the letter to read, and he returned it to her without a word; + but his heart must have relented towards his disobedient daughter at the + last, for by a codicil to his will it was provided that at Miss Merivale’s + death Woodcote was to pass to Lydia, or, in the event of her not surviving + her sister, to her daughter Rhoda. + </p> + <p> + But poor Lydia never knew that her father had forgiven her. She died three + days before him; and when her sister’s letter reached Australia, James + Sampson had broken up his home in Melbourne and started with his little + daughter for a distant settlement. He never reached the settlement, and + all Miss Merivale’s efforts to trace him proved fruitless. She at last + accepted the belief of the lawyers that he had lost his way, and, like so + many other hapless wanderers, had perished in the bush. + </p> + <p> + When Tom had become dear as a son to her, fears would sometimes rise that + his claim to Woodcote might one day be disputed; but as the quiet years + went on these fears ceased to present themselves, and when Pauline + mentioned Rhoda Sampson the name had gone through her like a knife. She + tried—she had been trying ever since—to tell herself that it + was impossible it could be James Sampson’s child, but the terror had laid + fast hold of her, and she could not shake it off. It was as James + Sampson’s child she had always thought of her niece. Her heart had refused + to give her the place Lydia’s little girl had a right to claim. She could + not think of her as Lydia’s. + </p> + <p> + Tom had not noticed his aunt’s agitation at the mention of her sister’s + name. He went on speaking of his visit to Broadhurst. + </p> + <p> + “They want you to spend a day or two there next week, Rosie. Mr. Powell + has asked Laura to sing at the concert, and she wants to practise with + you.” + </p> + <p> + Rose’s pretty face clouded over. “But I am going to stay with Pauline next + week. And I wish people wouldn’t ask Laura to sing in public. She can’t + sing.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a pleasure to listen to her, though,” returned Tom sturdily. “We + aren’t all as critical as you, Rosie; and our Parish Room isn’t the Albert + Hall. You had much better go to Broadhurst than to Chelsea. Miss Smythe + and Miss Desborough live in two cupboards up among the clouds, don’t + they?” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t quite as bad as that, my dear,” broke in Miss Merivale, as she + saw Rose’s vexed expression. “I promised that Rose should stay with them + for a day or two. I thought that if you went up to Joachim’s concert you + might leave Rose behind, and fetch her next day.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Aunt Lucy, Pauline said a week!” exclaimed Rose in dismay. “We could + do nothing in a day. And we want to do so much. Time always flies so fast + in London. One <i>lives</i> there.” + </p> + <p> + “We only vegetate here, eh, Rosie?” said Tom in a tone of good-humoured + banter. “Was Wordsworth a vegetable too? He lived in the country, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + But Rose refused to answer this. “Aunt Lucy, I may stay longer than a day, + may I not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear, of course. Don’t mind Tom’s teasing. I must go up to town + again to-morrow, I find, and I will call at Cadogan Mansions and see Miss + Smythe for you. And I can get your seeds, Tom.” + </p> + <p> + Both Rose and Tom stared in surprise at this. “Aunt Lucy, you will tire + yourself out if you go off shopping again to-morrow,” exclaimed Tom. + “Can’t I go for you?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I must go, my dear. I shall go by train, I think. You shall drive me + to the station, and I can take a hansom at Victoria. No, you must not come + with me, Tom. I want to see Mr. Thomson.” + </p> + <p> + “You won’t be able to find your way to Lincoln’s Inn by yourself,” said + Tom teasingly. “We can’t let her go alone, can we, Rose?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be such foolish children,” returned Miss Merivale, getting up from + the table. “I have a matter of business to talk over with Mr. Thomson, + Tom. And I would rather go alone, please.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke with such unwonted decision Tom could say no more. But he was + both hurt and surprised. Miss Merivale was accustomed to ask his opinion + on every business matter. He practically managed the estate for her. It + seemed very strange to him that she should be so bent on going to see Mr. + Thomson alone. He felt as if he must have proved himself in some way + unworthy of her confidence. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale saw that he was hurt, though he tried his best to hide it. + But it was impossible for her to explain. She had determined to be silent + till she had seen Rhoda Sampson and found out who she was. + </p> + <p> + Rose was as much surprised as Tom at her aunt’s determination to go alone + to London next day. She talked of it to Tom in the drawing-room when Miss + Merivale had gone up to her room. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t think it is about her will, do you?” she said, in a hushed + tone. + </p> + <p> + Tom gave her a look of strong disgust. “I don’t think anything about it. + But she isn’t fit to go by herself. Get her to take Maitland, if she won’t + take one of us. She was looking quite ill this evening, didn’t you notice? + I wouldn’t stay away a week, Rosie, if I were you. She misses you + dreadfully if you are away only a day.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is so dull here, doing nothing day after day but wait on Aunt + Lucy, and pick the flowers, and look after the old people in the village,” + said Rose, moved to a sudden burst of confidence. “It’s different for you, + Tom. You have your shooting and fishing, and the estate to look after, and + all the rest of it. But I’m at home all day”— + </p> + <p> + “That’s where a girl ought to be, my dear,” returned Tom good-humouredly. + “I’m not going to pity you. If you are dull, it’s your own fault. Laura + isn’t dull.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t suppose an oyster is dull,” was Rose’s disdainful retort. “But + it’s no good to talk to you, Tom.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t say Laura is as clever as you, my dear,” returned Tom, with + undiminished good humour. “But it is no good grumbling about your lot. + Aunt Lucy couldn’t do without you, and you wouldn’t leave her if you + could. So what’s the use of talking? And as to your being dull, I don’t + believe it. You only imagine you are. That’s where your cleverness comes + in, you see. We stupid people aren’t ashamed to be contented.” + </p> + <p> + Rose could not help laughing at this, though she felt very cross. But she + felt Tom was right in saying that her aunt could not do without her for + very long. And she told herself sorrowfully that she must give up all hope + of sharing Pauline’s flat when Clare went back to dull captivity at + Desborough Park. She could not be spared. It seemed doubtful if she would + be able to persuade her aunt and Tom to let her stay more than a day or + two when she made her promised visit in the following week. + </p> + <p> + She went up to her aunt’s room to bid her good-night, feeling herself a + martyr, but determined to bear her hard lot with decent cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale was sitting at the old bureau where she kept her most + private papers. She had been reading over again the letter in which Lydia + told her of the birth of her little dark-eyed girl. + </p> + <p> + Many tears had fallen on the yellow pages before she put them away, and + she turned such a white, worn face to Rose as she entered, Rose felt + horribly ashamed at having ever thought of sharing Pauline’s flat. And the + good-night embrace she gave Miss Merivale before going into the little + white room that opened from her aunt’s had compunction in it as well as + warm affection. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lucy, do let Tom go with you to-morrow,” she begged. “But must you + go to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I must, dear. And I want to go alone,” Miss Merivale answered. Then + she pinched Rose’s cheek, trying to speak playfully. “You silly children, + am I not to be trusted to go anywhere alone? I shall start early, and get + back early. It is business I cannot put off, Rose. Perhaps to-morrow I + shall be able to tell you all about it.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. A VISIT TO KENTISH TOWN. + </h2> + <p> + It was just before twelve o’clock next morning when Miss Merivale reached + Cadogan Mansions. She told the cabman to wait, and walked slowly up the + long flights of stone steps. + </p> + <p> + About half-way up, she met a girl coming down, with light springing steps, + buttoning a pair of shabby dogskin gloves. Her dress was shabby too, and + the little black straw hat had seen long service; but Miss Merivale only + noticed her bonnie face. It brightened the dreary staircase like a gleam + of sunshine. + </p> + <p> + It never struck her that this was the girl she had come to see. From + Pauline’s words the day before, she had pictured Rhoda Sampson as a very + different sort of girl. + </p> + <p> + The flat was at the top of the high buildings, and Miss Merivale was out + of breath by the time she reached the neat front door with the electric + bell. She had not long to wait before her ring was answered by Mrs. + Richards, a thin, careworn woman, who ushered her into the sitting-room + where Miss Desborough sat at her writing-table. + </p> + <p> + She jumped up, with her pen in her hand. “Miss Merivale, what a delightful + surprise! Is Rose with you? I was so sorry to miss you yesterday, but I + had to go to a committee meeting. I have more work on my hands just now + than I can do. Would you mind my just finishing this letter for the post? + It is very important. I shall not be five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale, who had seen Clare running about the garden at Woodcote + three summers before with her hair flying, was considerably taken aback by + her extremely “grown-up” manner. She sat meekly down on the sofa and + waited for the letter to be finished. + </p> + <p> + “There, it’s done!” Clare exclaimed, after a moment or two. “Now I will + just give it to Mrs. Richards, and we can have a little talk. Pauline will + be back in half an hour,” She glanced as she spoke at a tiny clock on the + writing-table. “Then after lunch I must rush off to Southwark. I shall + find a big mothers’ meeting waiting for me. The women bring their + needlework, and I talk to them. Last week we considered Food Stuffs in + reference to young children, and this afternoon I am going to discuss + Herbert Spencer’s Theory of Education.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! these sound very difficult subjects for you, my dear,” said Miss + Merivale, trying to repress a laugh as she looked at Clare’s serious young + face. “They must need a great deal of preparation.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is the worst of it. I haven’t time for any study. We workers + lead very busy lives, Miss Merivale. I am rushing all day from one thing + to another, feeling all the time that I ought to be doing something else.” + </p> + <p> + It suggested itself to Miss Merivale that work undertaken in that hurried + fashion must do more harm than good; but she was too eager to speak of + Rhoda Sampson to think much of anything else. “You have someone to help + you, Miss Smythe told us yesterday,” she said. “Someone who typewrites + your letters.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Sampson? Yes, she is an energetic little thing. But she has + vexed me to-day. I particularly wanted her this afternoon, and she has + asked for a holiday. Her little cousin is ill, and she wants to take him + into the country somewhere. She has just gone. You must have met her on + the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale started. “Yes, I met someone coming down. Was that Miss + Sampson? Then she is not coming back to-day? I wanted some programmes + typewritten. Could you give me her address?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have it here somewhere. But she will be here on Monday. I will + speak to her, if you like I shall be glad to get her some work; for after + next week I shall not want her, though I have not told her so yet. Mother + is coming home rather sooner than we expected, and I am going back to + Desborough with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed? You will be sorry to give up your work, won’t you, my dear?” + asked Miss Merivale mechanically, as she watched Clare turning over her + address-book. + </p> + <p> + “Mother has promised that I shall come back later on and stay with Aunt + Metcalfe. I shall like that better than this. One gets tired of a flat + after a time. But here is Miss Sampson’s address. Will you write to her, + or shall I tell her what you want?” + </p> + <p> + “I will go there now,” Miss Merivale said, her hand closing eagerly on the + slip of paper Clare gave her. “She has just come from Australia, Miss + Smythe said.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; they have been in England a few months only. I know nothing more of + her. But she is a good little thing. Pauline does not like her, but + Pauline is too critical sometimes. I notice that she is strangely lacking + in sympathy towards girls of Miss Sampson’s class.” + </p> + <p> + It was a long drive from Chelsea to Acacia Road, Kentish Town. Miss + Merivale knew London very little, though she had lived near it all her + life, and the dreary, respectable streets she drove through after leaving + Oxford Street behind her oppressed her even more than Whitechapel had done + in her one visit to it with Tom, the year before, to see a loan collection + of pictures. Street after street of blank, drab-faced houses—dull, + unsmiling houses! She thought of children growing up there, wan and + joyless, like plants kept out of the sun. And then two happy-eyed boys + came running by with their satchels under their arms, while a door opened + and a woman with a smiling mother-face came out to welcome them. And Miss + Merivale confessed to herself the mistake she had been making. Where love + is, even a dull London street has its sunshine. + </p> + <p> + Acacia Road was reached at last, and the cab drew up before a small + bow-windowed house that had a card, “Apartments to Let,” over the hall + door. A little servant with a dirty apron and a merry face opened the + door, and two boys with bright red pinafores came rushing from the + sitting-room behind her. + </p> + <p> + Miss Sampson wasn’t in, but her aunt, Mrs. M’Alister, was, the smiling + servant-maid told Miss Merivale, and led the way into the front + sitting-room. The boys ran upstairs. Miss Merivale heard them shouting to + their mother that a lady wanted her, and she sat down on a chair near the + door, trembling all over. + </p> + <p> + The room was the ordinary lodging-house sitting-room; but though there was + a litter of toys on the worn carpet, it had evidently been carefully swept + and dusted that morning, and there was a brown jug filled with fresh + daffodils on the centre table. On the side table near Miss Merivale there + was a pile of books. She looked at the titles as she waited for a step on + the stairs—<i>The Civil Service Geography, Hamblin Smith’s + Arithmetic</i>, one or two French Readers, a novel by George MacDonald, + and a worn edition of Longfellow’s Poems. Miss Merivale wondered if they + all belonged to Rhoda. + </p> + <p> + She was not kept waiting very long. Almost before she had finished looking + at the books she heard someone coming down the stairs, and the door opened + to admit a tall, angular woman, whose brown hair was thickly streaked with + grey. Miss Merivale found herself unable to begin at once to make the + inquiries she had come to make, and fell back on the programmes she wanted + typewritten. Mrs. M’Alister eagerly promised that Rhoda would undertake + the work. She had not a typewriter of her own, but a friend would lend the + use of hers, and Miss Merivale might rely on the work being done + punctually. + </p> + <p> + “It is very kind of Miss Desborough to recommend Rhoda,” she said in her + anxious voice. “It is difficult to get work in London, we find.” + </p> + <p> + “You have lately come from Australia, have you not?” asked Miss Merivale + gently. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. M’Alister was too simple-minded to discern the profound agitation + that lay beneath Miss Merivale’s quiet manner. And the kind voice and + kind, gentle face of her visitor led her to be more confidential than was + her wont with strangers. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we came back just before Christmas. When my husband died, I felt I + must come home. My brothers offered to help me with the boys. Rhoda has + taken the youngest down to one of his uncles to-day. But it’s only in + Essex; she will be back to-night.” + </p> + <p> + She said the last words hurriedly, as if afraid of wearying her visitor. + She little knew how Miss Merivale was hanging on her words. + </p> + <p> + “Your niece must be a great comfort to you,” Miss Merivale said, after a + moment’s pause. “Has she always lived with you?” + </p> + <p> + “As good as always. She wasn’t five when we had her first. Her father was + our nearest neighbour; we were living up in the hills then, fifty miles + from a town. She used to stay with us for days together while her father + went off after cattle. And when he died we brought her home for good. I + haven’t a girl of my own, but I’ve never known what it is to miss one. + Rhoda’s no kith or kin to us, but she has been a daughter to me, all the + same, and a sister to the boys. We’ve had a hard fight since we came home, + for my brothers have been unfortunate lately, and are not able to help us + as they wanted to; but Rhoda hasn’t lost heart for a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. M’Alister had been drawn into making this long speech by the eager + look of interest she saw in Miss Merivale’s face; but now she stopped + short, her pale face flushing a little. She felt afraid lest Miss Merivale + might think she was asking for help. + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose she had no relatives of her own?” asked Miss Merivale, + after a pause, in which she had been struggling for her voice. + </p> + <p> + “She had some on her mother’s side. I never heard their names. But her + father seemed certain that they would be unkind to the child, and he was + thankful when we promised to keep her. He was a queer, silent sort of man. + We never knew much about him, except that he had lived in Adelaide. But he + was mother and father both to Rhoda. He was just wrapped up in her. It was + a pretty sight to see them together.” + </p> + <p> + There were many questions Miss Merivale would have liked to ask, but she + had not the courage to. She was afraid of betraying herself. She no longer + felt any doubt about Rhoda’s parentage. James Sampson had not perished in + the bush, but had hidden himself in that lonely spot up among the hills, + where either no news of the will had reached him, or he had deliberately + refrained from communicating with England. Perhaps he thought that his + girl would be happier with the kind M’Alisters than with her rich English + relatives. + </p> + <p> + But the most probable supposition was that he had never heard of the will. + Mrs. M’Alister had said that they were living fifty miles from a town. How + easily it might have happened that the advertisements they put in the + Melbourne papers had never been seen by him. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she could she got away, after arranging that Rhoda should bring + the programmes to Woodcote one day in the following week, so that she + might talk over with her the details of some other work she wanted done. + Miss Merivale marvelled at herself for the calmness with which she settled + all this. + </p> + <p> + But when once she was in the cab her strength left her. After telling the + man to drive her to Victoria, she sank back faint and trembling. The + alternatives that lay before her seemed equally impossible. If Rhoda was + Lydia’s child, her own niece, her successor to Woodcote, how could she + leave her unacknowledged? How could she be silent about the discovery she + had made, even for a day? And as Miss Merivale thought this she stretched + her hand to the check-string, determining to drive at once to Lincoln’s + Inn to see her lawyer. + </p> + <p> + But her hand dropped at her side. All his life Tom had thought of Woodcote + as his inheritance; every stone, every blade of grass, was dear to him. He + would have to leave it, to go out into the world to fight for his living. + How could she let him go? If she was silent, no one would be likely to + guess that Rhoda was Lydia’s child. She was not mentioned by name in the + will. And she should not suffer. Ways and means of providing for her could + be found. But she could not have Woodcote. That was Tom’s. It would break + Tom’s heart to give it up. + </p> + <p> + As Miss Merivale thought of Tom her heart grew hard against Rhoda. She who + had never hated anyone felt herself in danger of hating Lydia’s little + girl. Tears burst from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She did not + think of wiping them away. She sat with her hands clasped on her lap, + staring miserably in front of her. What she was to do she did not know. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. TOM AND RHODA MEET. + </h2> + <p> + On the day of the Joachim concert Tom and Rose went up to London soon + after breakfast. Tom was not going to the concert. After taking Rose to + Cadogan Mansions he meant to hurry back. + </p> + <p> + He was anxious about his aunt. She had been so unlike herself during the + last few days, he feared she must be ill. And he felt sure he must have + offended her in some way, for she had seemed anxious to avoid him, and he + had hardly spoken to her since she came back from London. + </p> + <p> + Did she think he was taking too much on himself? He had got into the habit + lately of settling matters of minor importance without consulting her, so + as to save her trouble. Perhaps he had annoyed her by doing so. At any + rate, he would ask her if this was so. Tom’s nature was so simple and + straightforward that this was the natural course for him to take. He + believed half the difficulties of life arose from the want of a little + plain speaking. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale had said little about her journey to town. She left Tom and + Rose under the impression that she had called at the lawyer’s, and it was + not till the next day that she casually mentioned her visit to Mrs. + M’Alister. + </p> + <p> + “I have asked Miss Sampson to come and see me,” she added, after telling + them that Rhoda was to do some typewriting for her. “I am interested in + her, Rose. Did you know that poor Lydia’s second husband was named + Sampson? It is not at all certain that this girl is of the same family, as + she comes from quite a different part of Australia. But I should like to + see her.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale had had this speech carefully prepared ever since she came + home, and she uttered it so carelessly that neither Rose nor Tom suspected + how her heart beat as she said it. Their cousin Lydia was a faint, shadowy + figure to them, and the suggestion that Miss Sampson might prove to be + related to her husband aroused no interest in their minds. Tom never + thought of it again till Rose mentioned Miss Sampson as they were + travelling up to Victoria. + </p> + <p> + “I wish Aunt Lucy hadn’t taken her up like this,” she said impatiently. + “Pauline will be vexed, for she advised Aunt Lucy to have nothing to do + with her.” + </p> + <p> + “But if she is our cousin,” suggested Tom, with a twinkle in his blue + eyes, “don’t you think we are bound to patronise our relations?” + </p> + <p> + “How could she be our cousin? Don’t be so foolish, Tom,” Rose answered + sharply. + </p> + <p> + “A family connection, then,” returned Tom. “But perhaps you had better not + mention the possibility to Miss Smythe. It would shock her too much. All + her relations are in Debrett, aren’t they?” + </p> + <p> + Rose looked doubtfully at him. “I never know whether you like Pauline or + not, Tom,” she said. “But I am sure you never heard her boast of her + relations.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I never did, my dear; but I have somehow gathered the fact that they + are very fine people indeed. I always feel I ought to be ashamed that we + did not come over at the Conquest when I am talking to Miss Smythe.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you are laughing at her,” returned Rose, with some indignation in her + voice. “I believe you are always laughing at her, Tom. And it is just + because she is clever. Men always like stupid girls best, who think + everything they say is wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + At this Tom laughed outright. “There is one clever little girl I am very + fond of,” he said, “and it is going to be dull at Woodcote without her. + When will you come back, Rosie? Don’t stay very long. I am sure Aunt Lucy + is not well.” + </p> + <p> + “I must stay till Thursday. Pauline and Clare are going to have a musical + At Home on Thursday. But I will come back on Friday, Tom. I must, I + suppose.” And Rose tried to suppress a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Do you really want to stay longer?” said Tom, with a wondering look at + her. “I daresay Laura would spend a day or two with Aunt Lucy. I don’t + think she ought to be alone, Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “Laura fidgets Aunt Lucy to death,” Rose answered quickly. “You know she + does, Tom. Of course I shall come back on Friday. I promised Aunt Lucy I + would.” + </p> + <p> + While Tom and Rose were talking thus, Miss Merivale was waiting anxiously + for Rhoda. She had arranged that she should come to Woodcote that morning + while Tom and Rose were away. The station was only half a mile from the + house, and she did not send to meet her; but she sat by the drawing-room + window, looking with painful eagerness down the drive for the first + glimpse of the slim figure she remembered. + </p> + <p> + It was nearly eleven o’clock when Rhoda came up the quiet country road and + turned in at the iron gates. It was a delightful day, the first real day + of spring. Though no leaves were yet on the trees, ruddy brown buds just + ready for bursting clothed every branch. And the grass along the hedges + was starred with celandines and daisies, while yellow catkins sprinkled + the bushes above them. A blackbird was singing loudly as Rhoda passed the + big chestnut trees by the gate, and a squirrel darted down from a fir and + scurried across the drive to hide himself in the little wood. Rhoda waited + a moment, hoping for another glimpse of the bright-eyed little fellow. She + was a child still in her delight in small animals, and this visit to + Woodcote was a great treat to her. She loved the country as only + country-bred people forced to live in a big town can love it. And this + sweet English countryside, with its breezy uplands and smiling pastures, + seemed more beautiful to her than even her dear Australia. + </p> + <p> + She drew a breath of delighted admiration when she came out on the lawn + and saw the old house with its beds of tulips before it flaming in the + sun. It was such a house as she had read of but had never seen, a haunt of + ancient peace, time-worn, yet smiling still, its walls mellowed by the + sunshine of many a hundred summers. She would have stood a moment to + notice the delightful lines the gables made against the sky, but a figure + at one of the deep, narrow-paned windows to the right of the porch caught + her attention, and remembering that she had come on sober business, she + walked briskly up to the heavy iron-studded door within the porch and + pulled the twisted bell rope. + </p> + <p> + By Miss Merivale’s orders she was shown into the library, a delightful + room looking out on the garden at the back of the house. She had ample + time to notice what a dear old garden it was, for Miss Merivale kept her + waiting quite a quarter of an hour. + </p> + <p> + More than once Miss Merivale went across the narrow hall and put her hand + on the door, and then went back to the drawing-room, finding her courage + fail her. And when at last she entered, she was so deadly pale, Rhoda lost + all her nervousness in pity for her; she felt sure that she must be ill. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that will do very nicely,” Miss Merivale said, after giving the + typewritten programmes a cursory glance and pushing them from her. Her + eyes went back to Rhoda’s face. She saw now that the fleeting glimpse she + had got of her on the staircase had somewhat deceived her. Rhoda was not + as pretty as she had thought. Her mouth was a little too wide, and her + nose had too blunt a tip for beauty. But it was a charming face, + nevertheless, full of heart-sunshine; and the dark brown, darkly-fringed + eyes would have redeemed a plainer face. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale remembered with a sharp pang how Lydia had written of her + dark-eyed girl. She spoke of her sister, after a moment or two. + </p> + <p> + “It has struck me that your father might have been related to her second + husband,” she said. She had determined after leaving Acacia Road to + mention this as possible both to Rhoda and to Tom and Rose. + </p> + <p> + Many people knew that Lydia had been Mrs. Sampson when she died, though + Miss Merivale believed that she herself was the only person who was aware + that her child had been named Rhoda. + </p> + <p> + But she soon found that Rhoda knew very little of her father. She had + lived so long with the M’Alisters that she had come to identify herself + with them, and had never desired to learn more of her own people. She + could scarcely remember her father, and could not remember his Christian + name. “J. Sampson is written in my little Bible,” she said. “It is the + only book I have which belonged to him. Our house was burnt down when I + was about two years old, and all his books and papers were burnt with it. + Uncle Tom and Mr. Harding used to call him Jack, I have heard Aunt Mary + say.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was Mr. Harding?” asked Miss Merivale quickly. + </p> + <p> + “He was father’s partner for a little while. I don’t remember him at all. + He is a rich man now, and lives in Adelaide.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father came from Adelaide, Mrs. M’Alister told me. My sister lived + in Melbourne. Then you can tell me nothing else?” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda hesitated a moment. Miss Merivale’s voice had been cold and + constrained, but there was a beseeching eagerness in her glance. She + unclasped a little locket from her watch-chain and passed it across the + table. “That and my little Bible is all I have. It must have been my + mother’s, I think.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale caught up the little locket with trembling fingers. She rose + and went to the window, and stood with her back to Rhoda, apparently + examining it. + </p> + <p> + But her eyes were too full of tears for her to see it plainly. She knew + the little locket well. She herself had given it to Lydia one birthday. It + was her own hair under the glass, with the ring of tiny pearls round it. + All doubt vanished from her mind. She was certain now that Rhoda was her + niece. + </p> + <p> + She came back to the side of the table where Rhoda was sitting, and put + her hand on her shoulder as she gave her back the locket. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for letting me see it, my dear,” she said in a voice that + trembled a good deal in spite of the intense effort she was making to hide + her agitation. “And now can you make yourself happy in the garden for a + little while? I want you to stay to luncheon with me. I will talk to you + afterwards of the work I want you to do for me. And you must tell me more + about yourself. Try and think of me as a friend, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + She hurried away, not trusting herself to say more just then, and Rhoda + gladly went into the garden. Her heart was very light as she wandered up + and down the turf paths. Miss Merivale’s sudden interest in her and the + great kindness with which she spoke when she gave her back the locket did + not surprise her as it might have surprised a girl more versed in the + world’s ways. But she was eagerly grateful. She felt it would be easy to + tell Miss Merivale of the hard struggle she and Aunt Mary had had to keep + the younger boys at school and pay the premium for Ned’s apprenticeship to + that big engineering firm. + </p> + <p> + She was sure Miss Merivale would not suppose she wanted money help. She + had talked of giving her work, and it was work that Rhoda was pining for. + Her strong young hands and willing brain were eager to be employed to the + utmost. + </p> + <p> + It had been a hard blow to hear that she was to lose her post with Miss + Desborough. But perhaps Miss Merivale would be able to help her to get + something better. If she could earn a pound a week, there would be no need + for Aunt Mary to tire her eyes out over that weary needlework. A pound a + week would be riches added to the weekly wages Ned brought home and the + interest from the money they had laid by for a rainy day. There would be + no need for Aunt Mary to work for those hard shop-people any more. And + Rhoda’s eyes sparkled as she thought of packing up the last parcel of fine + needle-work and taking it back with the message that no more was wanted. + </p> + <p> + She had been in the garden about ten minutes when Tom, after vainly + looking for his aunt in the house, came through the glass door of the + library to seek for her out of doors. It startled him for a moment to see + a strange young lady in the garden, but before she turned and saw him he + had remembered who she must be, and he went forward quickly, taking off + his hat, to introduce himself. + </p> + <p> + No touch of awkwardness marred their first words to each other. Tom’s + frank face and pleasant greeting won Rhoda’s confidence at once, and in a + few moments they were chatting like old acquaintances. Tom soon found that + she loved a garden as much as he did, though this was the first large + English garden she had seen. He was eagerly questioning her about + Australian flowers when Miss Merivale entered the library and caught sight + of them through the window. + </p> + <p> + The colour flowed into her pale face as she watched them talking to each + other. For the first time she saw how Woodcote might be Tom’s and yet be + Rhoda’s too. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. “A MERRY HEART GOES ALL THE WAY.” + </h2> + <p> + Dusk had fallen before Rhoda got back to Acacia Road. The omnibus stopped + at the corner, and as she went down the dreary street carrying a big bunch + of flowers from the old garden, she might have come straight from Arcady, + so bright her face was. Mrs. M’Alister was watching for her from the + window with the boys, and they were all at the door to meet her. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, I was getting anxious about you,” said Mrs. M’Alister, as they + went into the sitting-room, Rhoda holding little Willie in her arms. “You + are much later than you expected.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Merivale begged me to stay. Oh, Aunt Mary, she has been so kind! But + I will tell you all about it presently. How tired you look, Aunt Mary! + Jack and Willie, I hope you have been good?” + </p> + <p> + “They have been very good,” said Mrs. M’Alister hastily. “I have been + trying to get my work finished. Give me your hat and jacket, darling; Jack + shall take them upstairs for you. You have had a long day. How beautiful + those flowers are! They scent the room already. English flowers are + sweeter than our flowers used to be. But we had a lovely garden, hadn’t + we?” She was speaking very nervously, and she kissed Rhoda again as she + took her hat and jacket from her. “I am so glad Miss Merivale was so kind, + dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she was wonderfully kind. And she has given me some more programmes + to do. I am to take them to her on Thursday.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be another nice change for you, dear. You look all the better + for a breath of country air,” was Mrs. M’Alister’s nervously-spoken + answer. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle James says we are all to live in the country with him,” broke in + Jack, who had been watching for an opportunity to make his voice heard. + “And we shall have cream every day, and see the pigs fed.” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle James?” said Rhoda, looking at Mrs. M’Alister. A little shadow had + fallen on her face. Mrs. M’Alister’s elder brother had been the only + person who had ever made her feel that she was an outsider and had no real + claim to the place she held in the family. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. M’Alister’s anxious face had clouded over too. “My dear, I did not + want to speak of it till after tea. James is coming in again this evening, + when Ned is home. Jack and Willie, run and ask Mrs. Ellis if the kettle is + boiling yet. Rhoda will want some tea.” + </p> + <p> + “I had tea before I came away,” Rhoda said, as the boys ran off. “When did + Uncle James come, Aunt Mary?” + </p> + <p> + “This afternoon, dear. He got to London last night. And he went down to + the works this morning, and saw Ned and Mr. Howard. Oh, Rhoda, they want + Ned to go to Plymouth!” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda looked at her aunt. She understood now what those new lines of + anxiety in her face meant which she had noticed the moment she came in. + “To Plymouth, Aunt Mary? But that is a long way off.” + </p> + <p> + “They have a branch there, and they want Ned to go. James says it is a + splendid thing for him. And he wants me to go down there and live with + him, Rhoda. His farm is only three miles from Plymouth.” + </p> + <p> + She did not look at Rhoda as she spoke, but kept fingering the tablecloth + nervously, with her eyes cast down. For a few seconds Rhoda was silent. + Then her voice was very cheerful. “Why, you will be quite close to Ned, + Aunt Mary. And the country air will be so good for the boys. I think it is + a splendid plan.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. M’Alister gave her a piteous glance. “If only you could go too, Rhoda + darling. But James says”— + </p> + <p> + “How could I get work in the country, Aunt Mary? And Miss Merivale has + promised that she will get me plenty of work.” Rhoda’s lips quivered a + little as she thought of her day-dreams as she came home—how if she + got plenty of work they might take a little house and have a little garden + of their own. But she went bravely on. “It would be foolish of me to think + of leaving London, Aunt Mary. And of course you must go with Ned. Is he + pleased about it? They must think a good deal of him to promote him like + this.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is a promotion,” said the mother eagerly. She was very fond of + Rhoda, but her eldest boy was her heart’s darling. “James said Mr. Howard + spoke so highly of him. And James is very anxious I should go to Coombe. + His old housekeeper is leaving him, and he wants me. If only”— + </p> + <p> + But Rhoda again interrupted her. She knew perfectly well how reasonably + and firmly the shrewd, hard-headed farmer had spoken that afternoon. He + was both anxious and willing that his sister and her boys should make + their home with him, but he did not want her. He considered her old enough + to fight the battle of life for herself. And she was determined that her + aunt should not guess how hard the parting would be to her. + </p> + <p> + “It is a delightful plan, Aunt Mary. You would not have come to London if + Ned wasn’t here. I know how you have hated it. And you must not trouble + about me. There are heaps of places now where girls can live comfortably + for very little. I will ask Miss Desborough to-morrow. And if I can pass + the Post Office examination, I might get appointed to Plymouth. Aunt Mary, + don’t cry. I can’t bear it.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t feel it as I shall,” sobbed Mrs. M’Alister, without looking up. + “But I couldn’t let Ned go to Plymouth alone, Rhoda. I couldn’t be parted + from him.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” Rhoda answered cheerily. She was glad her aunt did not + look up, for she knew her face had turned very white, and slow hot tears + had forced themselves into her eyes. But her voice was cheery. “And you + will be quite close to him at Coombe.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be able to live with us. There is a station quite close,” said + Mrs. M’Alister, drying her tears. Now that Rhoda seemed to bear the news + so well, she was able to think of the bright side of things. “And you must + spend a long month with us in the summer, Rhoda darling. James means to + insist on that. He does mean to be kind, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure he does. And when he hears about Miss Merivale he will make you + see that it would be foolish of me to think of leaving London. But here + comes the tea at last. I will run up and wash my hands first. Don’t wait + for me, Aunt Mary.” + </p> + <p> + No one could have guessed, when Rhoda came down, with her hair freshly + done, and a new pink ribbon round the neck of her brown dress, what bitter + tears she had been shedding upstairs. And when Mr. Price came in, he was + pleasantly surprised at the sensible view she took of things, and his + invitation to her to spend the August holidays at Coombe was far heartier + than Mrs. M’Alister had dared to hope for. + </p> + <p> + “And you will be able to run down to Leyton for a Sunday every now and + then,” he said, regarding her approvingly out of his hard grey eyes. + “Mary, here, seems to think you’re a baby still, but I know better. Girls + aren’t what they used to be, Mary—silly creatures who couldn’t look + after themselves. They don’t want to stay at home by the chimney corner + all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to work,” said Rhoda, speaking rather proudly. She could have + added that she might have got work at Plymouth and come home every night, + as Ned was going to do, but she knew that it would be no use to say it. He + had plainly made up his mind that she must shift for herself. And the only + excuse she could make for him was that he did not know how hard it was for + her to be suddenly deprived of a home. Shabby and uncomfortable as their + lodgings were, not even beautiful Woodcote could have been a dearer home. + And a deadly chill seized her heart as she thought of living alone or with + strangers. Rhoda was a thorough woman in her need of a home to fill her + life. She had never felt Rose’s desire to be free from home ties; she + could not have understood it. + </p> + <p> + “Rhoda means to ask Miss Desborough’s advice, James,” said Mrs. M’Alister, + putting down her sewing. “She knows a great many girls who get their + living in London and board out somewhere. I shan’t feel happy till I see + Rhoda comfortably settled.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we’ll manage that for her,” returned the farmer briskly. “And now + this Miss Merivale has taken her up she’ll get plenty of work, never + fear.” + </p> + <p> + “How would it do for you to live with Miss Smythe?” suggested Mrs. + M’Alister, looking anxiously at Rhoda. “Now Miss Desborough is going away, + she will want somebody, won’t she?” + </p> + <p> + A smile broke over Rhoda’s face. She had never spoken of Pauline’s + contemptuous rudeness to her aunt. She had felt too indifferent to her to + be hurt by her behaviour; and since her visit to Leyton, the week before, + she had a special reason for being amused at it. But this she had not + mentioned. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Smythe would think me very bold if I suggested living with her, Aunt + Mary,” she said, in a voice that had a ripple of laughter in it. “But + don’t be anxious about me. I can stay here with Mrs. Ellis if I can’t hear + of anything I like better. But I will speak to Miss Desborough to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + As it happened, however, Rhoda did not see Clare next day. When she + arrived at the flat, she found that Lady Desborough had reached town the + day before, and had taken her daughter for a day’s shopping with her, + preparatory to their journey into Lincolnshire. + </p> + <p> + It was Rose who told Rhoda this. Mrs. Richards had gone out to buy some + chops for dinner, and Rose opened the door. Rhoda thought her the + prettiest creature she had ever seen in her life. She had a blue dress on + and a white cooking apron, and her yellow hair was brushed loosely back + from her face and fastened in a loose knot. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Desborough has left some letters for you to answer,” she said to + Rhoda pleasantly. “Can you do them at the side table? I am cooking in the + sitting-room this morning. It was so hot in the kitchen. Miss Smythe will + be in presently. She has a message for you from Clare.” + </p> + <p> + It was rather difficult to work at the side table, which was small and + decidedly rickety; but Rhoda made no objection. She found her eyes + wandering now and then to Rose, who had gone back to her pastry, and was + spending many puzzled glances on the cookery book that was propped open + before her. + </p> + <p> + “I mean to write a cookery book one day,” she exclaimed presently, in a + tone of deep disgust. “And I mean to use simple language, and explain + everything. I can’t understand this book a bit.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda was on the point of offering her help, when the door was hastily + opened and Pauline came in, with a bunch of daffodils in her hand. She + raised her eyebrows at the sight of the pastry board. + </p> + <p> + “My darling Rose! Suppose Lady Desborough were to come back with Clare, + what would she think?” + </p> + <p> + “It was so hot in the kitchen, Pauline,” Rose answered meekly. “And I do + so want to learn how to cook. Mrs. Richards’ pastry is like leather. Just + look here. This book says”— + </p> + <p> + But Pauline laughingly put it from her. “My dear child, it is worse than + Greek to me. And I really do object to see lumps of raw dough about. + Please take them away. I never like to think of my food till I see it on + the table. Good-morning, Miss Sampson. When you have finished those + letters you will not be required any more. I will pay you before you go. + Miss Desborough has gone out with Lady Desborough.” + </p> + <p> + Clare had left a kind message for Rhoda, and when Pauline went into the + next room to take off her hat, Rose hastened to give it. + </p> + <p> + “She was so sorry not to be here to say good-bye to you, Miss Sampson. She + feels that you have been such a help to her.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda had listened to Pauline with a smile faintly lurking at the corner + of her firm lips, but now the smile flashed brightly out at Rose. + </p> + <p> + “It has been very pleasant work,” she said. “I am sorry it is over. But + your aunt has promised me some more work, Miss Merivale. I am to go down + to Woodcote again on Thursday.” + </p> + <p> + Rose was surprised, and she could not help showing it. “You went + yesterday, didn’t you?” she said rather stiffly. “It is a long way for you + to go.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to go,” Rhoda answered. She did not tell Rose she had + spent the day at Woodcote; something in Rose’s manner checked her. But she + did not begin her writing at once. Rose had taken up the cookery book + again, and was bending puzzled brows over it. Rhoda watched her for a + moment, her eyes full of admiration. Miss Desborough was pretty, but there + was not a soft line in her face. Rose looked a child still for all her + womanly height. Rhoda said to herself that she must be much younger than + her brother. It was easy to see that they were brother and sister. Rose + had just the same straight brow she had noticed in him yesterday, and her + eyebrows, like his, were a shade or two darker than her hair. + </p> + <p> + “Would you let me see if I could help you, Miss Merivale?” Rhoda said, + after a moment. “I did all the cooking at home before we came to England.” + </p> + <p> + But Rose shut up her book. “Pauline will scold again if I don’t carry all + this away,” she said, with a laugh. “And I mean to have some cookery + lessons, if I can get them. But Woodcote is so far from everywhere. It is + like being buried alive.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda, who had known what it was to live for years fifty miles from a + town, did not know how to answer this. And Rose, angry with herself for + saying so much to Miss Sampson, caught up the pastry board and rolling-pin + and retreated to the kitchen. She came back in a few moments with her + apron off, and found Rhoda busy at work, and Pauline in a low chair by the + fire with her hands clasped round her knees. Pauline had changed her + outdoor dress for an odd, picturesque frock of sage green Liberty serge, + touched with yellow. She had fastened some daffodils in her belt, and + looked like an aesthetic picture of Spring. + </p> + <p> + “Arrange my daffodils for me, there is a good little Rose,” she said, + smiling lazily at Rose as she entered. “The brown pots, not the blue ones. + Now Clare is going to her native fens, I mean this room to be a thing of + beauty and a joy for ever. How good it will be to get rid of the click of + that typewriter!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say that to Clare,” laughed Rose, as she brought the brown pots to + the table. “She was telling me this morning it was the thing she would + miss most.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline lifted her dark eyebrows. “Did she really say that? But it is + exactly like Clare; she is more a machine herself than a human being. I + was very fond of her once, but I have found her trying to live with. They + say you never know a woman till you have lived six months with her. Don’t + put too many daffodils in one pot, my Rose; they want plenty of room to + show themselves.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda had finished the work Clare had left for her. She carefully put her + papers together, and rose from the table. Pauline looked carelessly round + at her. “Ah, are you going, Miss Sampson? Here is the money Miss + Desborough left for you. Just write a receipt and leave it on the table, + please. You understand that you are not wanted any more, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “I knew this was to be my last day, thank you,” said Rhoda composedly. She + smiled to herself as she wrote her receipt. She half thought of mentioning + her visit to Leyton, but she refrained. There was not a touch of + spitefulness in Rhoda’s nature, and she had no wish to humiliate Pauline; + but the humorous side of the situation was thoroughly enjoyed by her. + </p> + <p> + Rose went on arranging her flowers in silence for a minute or two after + Rhoda went away; then she spoke rather constrainedly. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you dislike poor Miss Sampson so, Pauline? Do you know that you + were quite unkind to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Was I? It is necessary to keep that sort of girl at arm’s length; she + would become intolerable if you didn’t. Thank goodness, we have seen the + last of her. Now, come and sit down here and have a talk. What shall we do + this afternoon, Rose? Only two more days! What do you want to do most?” + </p> + <p> + “Clare and Lady Desborough are coming back to tea,” suggested Rose, with a + laugh. “You are not very hospitable, Pauline. And to-morrow we shall be + busy all day. My time will soon be over, won’t it? Do you know, Aunt Lucy + has asked Miss Sampson down to Woodcote again to-morrow, Pauline? I wonder + if she has found out that she is related to Cousin Lydia’s husband. I + don’t see what Aunt Lucy can want her for.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor relations are a great nuisance,” said Pauline sharply. “It is + foolish of your aunt to have anything to do with her. But don’t let us + talk of Sampson, Rosie; let us talk of ourselves. Suppose for a moment + that you were going to stay with me through the summer, just let us plan + what we would do.” + </p> + <p> + Rose shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “It would be too tantalising, Pauline. I shall spend the summer at + Woodcote. I know exactly what I shall be doing every hour of the day, and + every day of the week, and every week of the month. But don’t let us talk + of it. Let us talk of the concert last night. Wasn’t it wonderful? I wish + Tom had been there; he would have understood better why Laura’s singing + irritates me. Pauline, I must get some good music lessons somehow. Do + speak to Aunt Lucy about it on Friday. You are quite right; I am wasting + my time as it is.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. PAULINE’S DIPLOMACY. + </h2> + <p> + When Rhoda got home that morning, she found that Mrs. M’Alister had + already begun to pack. Ned was to go to Plymouth almost at once, and Mr. + Price was anxious that his sister and the younger boys should return with + him on the following Saturday. Little Hugh was to stay at Leyton for the + present; Rhoda was to bring him down when she came for her holiday in + August. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. M’Alister did not guess how hard Rhoda found it to be cheerful as she + helped with the packing. A great load was lifted off her heart by the + ready way in which the girl had acquiesced in the new arrangements. Much + as it grieved her to part with Rhoda, she could not help looking forward + with delight to going back to the dear old farmhouse in which her + childhood had been spent. And Rhoda understood exactly how she felt. There + was no bitterness in her heart; but, brave and cheery as she was, she + dreaded to think of the lonely days that lay before her. + </p> + <p> + She did not go down to Woodcote till Thursday afternoon. Miss Merivale had + asked her to come early and spend the day, but she had written to explain + how it was that she could not spare the time; her aunt wanted her help in + packing. + </p> + <p> + The old house looked more beautiful and peaceful than ever, steeped in the + golden afternoon sunlight. Rhoda thought with a thrill of wonder of Rose’s + words about her home. How could she have spoken so! + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale was in the library, with all the windows open to the garden. + Rhoda was tremulously surprised at her greeting. She kissed her, and even + when they sat down she did not leave her hand go, but held it tight, + looking anxiously at her. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to tell me more about your aunt,” she said. “I did not quite + understand your letter. You are not going to Devonshire?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no; I am going on with my work here,” Rhoda said hastily. And after a + pause she added, impelled by the yearning kindness in Miss Merivale’s + eyes, “Mr. Price wishes me to stay here. It is not as if I was his own + niece, you see. And I am nearly twenty; I am quite able to earn my own + living.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale dropped her hand suddenly, and rose and went to the window. + The quiver in Rhoda’s voice was more than she could bear. She spoke + without turning round. “I see they are carrying the tea into the garden. + Let us go out. I thought it would be pleasanter to have it out of doors. + And afterwards you shall tell me what you mean to do. I should like”— + </p> + <p> + But she checked herself. She wanted to say that she would like Rhoda to + come to Woodcote; but she saw how strange such a wish would seem, both to + Rhoda and to Tom and Rose. She must wait a little. She must content + herself with helping her in other ways. + </p> + <p> + Tom had been obliged to go to Guilford that day on farm business; but + somehow he had managed to get back early, and he strolled into the garden + just as they sat down to tea, not looking in the least as if he had just + ridden twelve miles at headlong speed. + </p> + <p> + A faint smile crossed Miss Merivale’s pale face as she saw him. It was + what she had been hoping for. + </p> + <p> + She left the talk during tea-time to him and Rhoda, who had plenty to say + to each other. They were both enthusiasts about a garden, and found it + intensely interesting to compare notes. After tea, Tom was eager to show + Rhoda some white violets in the wood close by. He found she had never seen + any. + </p> + <p> + They went off together, and Miss Merivale could hear their eager, happy + voices as they searched about the wood looking for the violets, just like + two children. She leant back in her chair, closing her eyes. For the + moment the ache at her heart was stilled. She was hoping that all might + yet come right. + </p> + <p> + Rhoda went home that evening feeling like a different creature. Mrs. + M’Alister had a jealous pang or two as she listened to her account of the + happy time she had had. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you trust too much to her promises, child,” she said anxiously. + “She’s taken a sudden fancy to you, that’s clear enough; but it mightn’t + last. She might take a fancy to somebody else next week, and forget all + about you. I have heard of people like that.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think Miss Merivale is a bit like that,” returned Rhoda stoutly. + “Hasn’t she a sweet, kind face, Aunt Mary? I wish she didn’t look so ill.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t rest your hopes on her too much,” repeated Mrs. M’Alister, shaking + her head gloomily. “James will be in again to-night, and you will hear + what he says. He has heard of a firm that wants a lady-clerk. We think + you’d better try for it, Rhoda. I’d like to see you settled before we go + away. I’ve been wishing and wishing this afternoon that you could go with + us.” + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t say that to Mr. Price, Aunt Mary,” Rhoda said quickly. “You + know how it vexes him. And he is very kind. You heard him tell me that I + was to ask him for any money I wanted. But I don’t think I shall want any. + Miss Merivale said again this afternoon that she would be able to get me + as much work as I could do. She is going to write to me on Monday. I am + quite sure she meant it. And I don’t want to try for work in an office if + I can help it. I should feel in prison.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale had spoken very vaguely of the work she was going to give + Rhoda. She had, in truth, made up her mind that Rhoda must come to + Woodcote. She was only waiting till Rose came home to arrange it. However + much she surprised Rose and Tom, however difficult it would be to explain + why she wanted Rhoda, Rhoda must come to her. She could not leave Lydia’s + girl alone in London. And Tom’s surprise, at least, would have no element + of annoyance in it. It was quite plain already that Rhoda’s company was + delightful to him. + </p> + <p> + It had been arranged that Tom should go and fetch his sister on Friday, + but by the first post on Friday morning Miss Merivale got a letter from + Rose, saying that Pauline would return with her that afternoon, and that + there was no need for Tom to come to London. It was at Pauline’s + instigation Rose had written the letter. Those few charmed days in the + little flat had made Rose more passionately desirous than ever to get away + from Woodcote, and Pauline had suggested that she should go home with Rose + and beg her aunt to allow her to pay a longer visit a little later in the + year. + </p> + <p> + “May is the best month of the year in London, Rose. You shall spend May + with me. The flat will have to be given up then, if I cannot get anyone to + share it with me. Lady Desborough only took it till the end of April. But + we will have a lovely May together. I am sure your aunt will not refuse to + let you come.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t possibly stay away for a month,” Rose said firmly, but with + the air of a martyr. “Aunt Lucy looked heartbroken when I asked for a week + this time. She has got to depend on me for everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so. But if you were away she would do things for herself, and it + would be a thousand times better for her. She won’t have missed you this + time as much as you fear, Rosie. And won’t you think of me a little bit? + Just think how lonely I shall be!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know. And I <i>want</i> to come again,” Rose said piteously. “I + might get away for a week in May. If you spoke to Aunt Lucy”— + </p> + <p> + “Trust it to me entirely, dear. I know exactly what to say. And I feel + sure your aunt will let you be free when she understands how much you want + it. For a week or so, I mean,” she added hastily, as she saw Rose’s + anxious look. “I mustn’t ask for more, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn’t be a bit of good to ask,” sighed Rose. “If Aunt Lucy said I + might stay longer, she would look so miserable about it I should not like + to take her at her word. But I might be spared for a week, I should think. + That will be something to look forward to.” + </p> + <p> + They reached Woodcote early in the afternoon, and Pauline was soon + furnished with an opportunity to plead Rose’s cause with Miss Merivale. + Tom had bought a new pony which he wanted Rose to see, and they went away + to the stables, leaving their aunt and Pauline alone. Pauline had + laughingly refused to accompany them. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to tell Miss Merivale what Mrs. Metcalfe said about your + music, Rose,” she said. “It would make you vain if you were to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is Mrs. Metcalfe?” asked Tom, when they got outside. “Is she a great + authority, Rose?” + </p> + <p> + “She is Lady Desborough’s sister,” returned Rose, with dignity. “Pauline + and I went to tea there yesterday. She lives in Grosvenor Square.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I understand now why Miss Smythe spoke of her with bated breath,” + returned Tom in the light, bantering tone which so often irritated Rose. + “I might have known she lived in Grosvenor Square.” + </p> + <p> + Rose refused to take notice of his raillery. “It was Mrs. Metcalfe who got + Miss Sampson for Clare. She heard of her through some agency. What has + made Aunt Lucy take such an interest in her, Tom? She was down here again + yesterday, wasn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Have you seen her, Rosie?” + </p> + <p> + “For a moment or two. She looked nice, I thought. But I can’t imagine what + Aunt Lucy can find for her to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lucy is sure that she must be related to Cousin Lydia’s husband. It + is natural that she should take a great interest in her. She is coming + down again next week to stay for a day or two. Aunt Lucy told me this + morning that she meant to ask her. I am sure you will like her, Rosie.” + </p> + <p> + Tom spoke without looking at his sister, and hurried forward to open the + gate of the stable yard for her without waiting to get an answer. But Rose + had no answer ready. The tone in which Tom had spoken took her breath + away. He seemed to think it was a matter of importance whether she liked + Miss Sampson or not. + </p> + <p> + When they got back to the house, Tom went off to his own den, and when + Rose entered the drawing-room she found Pauline alone. + </p> + <p> + The latter ran towards her and caught her by both hands. Her eyes were + sparkling joyfully. “My Rose, I have delightful news for you. Now, confess + that I am the cleverest person in the world! I have made your aunt as + anxious as you are about your music. She wants you to spend two months + with me in London. Two whole long, lovely months! Think of it, Rosamunda + mia! And you can come next week. It is far, far more than I ever hoped + for. And, who knows, you might get an extension of leave after that. We + may spend the whole summer together in the flat. Well, why don’t you say + something? Aren’t you pleased?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Pauline, I can’t go. Aunt Lucy couldn’t do without me. I”— + </p> + <p> + “My dear, she wants you to go,” returned Pauline impatiently. “Go up and + speak to her, and you will find it is so. Miss Sampson is to come here as + her companion. She isn’t the person I should choose for a companion, but + <i>chacun à son goût</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you suggest that she should come here?” asked Rose. “Oh, Pauline, + don’t look at me like that! It is so sudden. And Aunt Lucy can’t bear + strangers. I don’t think it is a good plan at all.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline dropped her hands with one look, and turned away. Her lips were + quivering; her face had the stricken look of one who has received a cruel + blow. She did not speak, but Rose was full of remorse instantly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Pauline, you know I want to come to you. It would be too lovely. But + it is so sudden. I can’t believe Aunt Lucy would like to have Miss Sampson + with her.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better speak to your aunt,” returned Pauline in an icy voice. “I + wash my hands of the matter altogether. I did my best for you; but I see I + was mistaken in thinking that you really cared about our being together. + It does not matter I can give up the flat and go back to Mrs. Jephson’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Pauline, don’t speak like that,” begged Rose, with tears in her eyes. + “You know how I love being with you. If I could be certain Aunt Lucy would + not fret for me, I should be only too delighted to get away. I never feel + more than half-alive here. But Miss Sampson could not do for her what I + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you think you may exaggerate your usefulness to your aunt, dear?” + Pauline returned, with a sneer. But with an effort she controlled her + temper, and spoke the next words in a different tone. “Miss Merivale seems + really anxious for you to have a change, Rose. I think she understands + that you are bored and unhappy here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Pauline, you did not say that to her?” cried Rose, the blood rushing, + up into her face. + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, darling. It was your music I spoke most of. But she does + want you to come to me. Go up and speak to her; you will see that she + really wants it. You won’t make difficulties, Rose? Can’t you see it is + best for both of you to be apart for a time? Your aunt will learn to do + without you. When you come back you will be able to lead a much freer + life. And think of the happy time we shall have!” + </p> + <p> + But Rose’s face did not light up as Pauline had expected, and it was with + a very sober step that she went up to her aunt’s room. She had made up her + mind to tell her aunt that she did not want to go and stay with Pauline—that + she had never really thought of leaving her. She expected to be clasped + and fondly kissed for being so ready to give up her visit; but she found, + to her hurt surprise, that Pauline had been right, and that her aunt was + bent on her going away for a time. + </p> + <p> + “It is a chance that may not happen again, Rosie,” she said, tenderly + stroking her bright hair. “I have wanted you to have some really good + music lessons for a long time, and Pauline and Mrs. Metcalfe will be able + to see that you get the best. And you have been looking pale lately. You + want a change; I know it has been dull for you. And I should like to have + Rhoda here for a time. I have just been talking to Tom about it. He thinks + it an excellent plan. You would like to go next week, wouldn’t you, + darling? Pauline is very anxious to have you. Before she goes away we must + settle how long you are to stay. Two months, I thought of. I can’t spare + you longer than that, Rosie.” + </p> + <p> + But, affectionate as these words were, and loving the kiss that + accompanied them, Rose went downstairs again with a sore heart. She was + like those who pluck Dead Sea apples, and find the fruit that looked so + fair when out of reach turning to ashes in their hands. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. APPLES OF SODOM. + </h2> + <p> + One warm, beautiful morning, early in April, Rose was toiling rather + wearily up the long flight of stone steps leading to the flat. She had her + violin, and she found it heavy. She was wishing she had Tom with her to + carry it. + </p> + <p> + Though Rose had not yet confessed it to herself, she was beginning to be a + little homesick. She missed the delicious freshness of Woodcote, its wide + rooms and sunny gardens, the thousand and one little comforts she had been + too accustomed to to notice; but more, far, far more, she missed the + protecting fondness that had surrounded her all her life. It was only a + fortnight since she joined Pauline, but it seemed much longer. And June + seemed a very long way off. + </p> + <p> + But she was looking forward to a great treat that afternoon. Paderewski + was playing at St. James’s Hall, and she and Pauline were going early to + get seats. They would have to wait two hours or so, and might have to + stand after all, but to Rose that was part of the afternoon’s enjoyment. + She had quite agreed with Pauline that it would be foolish to go to the + expense of taking their tickets beforehand. She opened the door with her + latch-key—that latch-key still gave her a thrill of proud delight + when she used it—and went in. + </p> + <p> + Pauline called to her from her room. + </p> + <p> + “Rosie, is that you, dearest? I want to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + Rose put down her violin and crossed the tiny entry. Pauline was standing + before her looking-glass doing her hair. She wore a soiled pink + dressing-jacket elaborately trimmed with lace, and Rose observed with a + little shock that there were holes in the heels of her stockings. It was + not quite such a shock as it would have been a fortnight ago. Rose had + discovered that Pauline was very careless about little matters of this + sort. On the bed was spread out her last new dress—a charming + combination of brown and gold, to be worn with a brown hat lined with + yellow. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Pauline, you won’t wear that dress this afternoon, will you?” asked + Rose, glancing at it. “It will get so crushed.” + </p> + <p> + “My Rose, shall you be very disappointed? Madame Verney has asked me to go + with her. She had two tickets sent her, and Monsieur Verney had to go to + Paris this morning. I am going there to lunch. How I wish you were going + with me, darling! But I could not refuse when Madame Verney asked me, + could I? I might have offended her.” + </p> + <p> + The tears had rushed into Rose’s eyes, but she drove them back. “I daresay + Paderewski will play again before I go,” she said. “And it was kind of + Madame Verney to ask you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as to kindness, she would have found it dull enough to go by herself, + and she knows nobody in London yet. But what do you mean about Paderewski + playing again, Rosie? You’ll go and hear him this afternoon, won’t you? I + never thought of your staying at home.” + </p> + <p> + “I promised Aunt Lucy I would not go to a concert by myself,” Rose + answered hastily. “I couldn’t go, Pauline.” + </p> + <p> + “But she meant in the evening, Rosie. She couldn’t mind your going this + afternoon. Don’t be a silly child. You’ll spoil my pleasure if you stay at + home. Of course you must go.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I couldn’t,” returned Rose. “I promised Aunt Lucy. Besides”— + </p> + <p> + “You little country mouse!” laughed Pauline. “I believe you are afraid to + go. Who do you think would eat you? Never mind, there is ‘The Golden + Legend’ at the Albert Hall on Thursday. We’ll go to that. But I must be + quick; I promised to be there early. Rosie, be my good angel, and clean my + shoes for me. You’ll find the stuff in that box. I can’t trust Mrs. + Richards with my kid shoes. No, not that box, darling, the one below it.” + </p> + <p> + Rose, who was delicately fastidious about all her own belongings, could + never understand how Pauline allowed her room to be so untidy, and as she + opened the box and took out the pot of polish she blushed to find herself + thinking of Aunt Dinah and her kitchen drawers in <i>Uncle Tom’s Cabin</i>. + She took the boots away and cleaned them, and brought them back. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Richards isn’t in the kitchen, Pauline. She hasn’t gone, has she?” + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear little Rosie! Was she afraid she was going to be left all + alone?” laughed Pauline. “She has only gone to get me a hansom, dear. I + shall spoil my dress if I go by omnibus, and it is too far to walk. Have + you five shillings in your purse you can lend me? I am hard up till the + end of the term.” + </p> + <p> + Rose produced the five shillings, which was not by any means the first + loan Pauline had asked for. She hated herself for feeling so hurt and + angry with her friend, and she was glad to lend her the money she wanted. + Life would become quite intolerable in the flat if she was going to lose + her belief in Pauline. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you think better of it and go to the concert?” Pauline said, when + she was ready to start. “It is really silly of you to stay at home, + dearest. I wouldn’t have accepted Madame Verney’s invitation if I had + thought you would not go. But you see how it is, don’t you? Her cousin is + at the French Embassy, and she is sure to get to know a lot of people. She + may introduce me to a great many pupils.” + </p> + <p> + This sounded reasonable, and Pauline’s voice was most kind and caressing, + yet somehow the hurt feeling remained in Rose’s heart. She saw that + Pauline was delighted to go. She did not really care in the least about + her disappointment. “He will be sure to play again,” she answered, “I + shall go for a walk in the Park. What time shall you be back, Pauline?” + </p> + <p> + Pauline hesitated. “Don’t expect me till the evening, darling. Madame + Verney spoke about my going back with her to tea. Shall you be very + lonely? I never used to trouble about Clare. She went her way, and I went + mine. And”— + </p> + <p> + “You need not trouble about me,” Rose flashed out, her colour rising. “I + should be sorry to spoil your afternoon, Pauline.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline looked at her with grieved eyes. “It will make me most miserable + if I leave you angry with me. Don’t you know that I would far, far rather + have gone with you? Rosie, you know that, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + But Rose had a stubborn love of truth, which prevented her from responding + to this appeal as Pauline wished. + </p> + <p> + “It would have been a pity for you to refuse Madame Verney,” she said. + “And I shall have a nice afternoon. I will make some cakes, I think. I + want to astonish Aunt Lucy and Wilmot when I go home. I shall make Wilmot + let me make Tom’s birthday cake.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline patted her cheek. “What a child you are still, Rosie! When you + have been a month or two in London, you will find yourself growing up. But + I must start. How does this dress suit me? Do you think there is just a + little too much yellow about it?” + </p> + <p> + Rose could frankly say that the dress was perfect. She had never seen + Pauline look better. But she could not help hoping that she had changed + her stockings as she watched her run lightly down the stairs to the + hansom. + </p> + <p> + She felt very downhearted as she closed the door and went back to the + sitting-room. The room was sweet with the primroses and white violets they + had sent her from Woodcote the day before. Rose felt herself pitying the + flowers for being taken from the woods and sent to wither in that stifling + air. For it was stifling this afternoon. Even when she threw open the + window, no breath of coolness came to fan her burning face. The sky was + cloudless, but yellow with smoke, and a dull haze hung over the river. + </p> + <p> + Rose thought of Woodcote, where the great chestnuts were already in full + leaf, and the gorse common beyond the wood was a sheet of gold. An intense + longing took hold of her to go home, if only for an hour or two. She + looked at her watch and saw that it was not yet one o’clock. There was + plenty of time to go to Woodcote and get back before Pauline returned. And + how joyfully surprised her aunt would be! She wondered she had not thought + of it before. + </p> + <p> + An hour later she was in the train, speeding countrywards. She sat close + to the window, looking eagerly at the green fields and the budding trees. + She no longer felt disappointed about the concert. She was glad Madame + Verney had invited Pauline to go with her. + </p> + <p> + Just outside the station for Woodcote the train came to a standstill. Rose + from the window had a full view of the white road down the hillside, and + as she looked along it she caught sight of an approaching carriage. It was + a moment before she recognised the brown horses and the broad figure of + old Harris, her aunt’s coachman. But directly afterwards she saw her aunt + and Rhoda Sampson, and Tom seated opposite to them. + </p> + <p> + The road passed close to the high embankment on which the train was + standing. If they had looked up, they must have seen her at the window. + But they were too intent on their conversation. Rose heard Tom laugh at + something Rhoda said, and saw him turn to Miss Merivale as if she too was + enjoying the joke. + </p> + <p> + Rose could not see her aunt’s face, her parasol shaded it; but she was not + leaning back against the cushions, as she usually did. She was bending a + little forward, with her face turned towards Rhoda. It was quite plain to + Rose that it was Miss Sampson who was absorbing the attention both of Tom + and her aunt. + </p> + <p> + She stared after the carriage with angry, mystified eyes. It was her place + Rhoda was sitting in! She forgot how the long drives her aunt loved used + to bore her. She felt that Rhoda Sampson had no right to be sitting there, + and it seemed to her positively cruel of her aunt and Tom to be so happy + when she was away. + </p> + <p> + She was half inclined to go back by the next train when she heard from the + stationmaster that they were gone to Guilford and would not be back till + late. But on second thoughts she determined to go on to Woodcote. Wilmot + would be there, at any rate. She would be able to find out how her aunt + was. + </p> + <p> + She had the warmest of greetings from the old cook and housekeeper, whom + she found at the linen press upstairs, carefully examining her store of + lavender-scented linen. + </p> + <p> + “Your aunt will be dreadfully disappointed, Miss Rosie. What a pity you + didn’t come a little earlier! You could ha’ gone to Guilford with them. + They’ve gone about the new greenhouse Mr. Tom is going to build. But come + down to the dining-room, my dearie, and I’ll get you some tea.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; finish what you were about,” returned Rose, settling herself in + the window-seat. The linen press stood on a wide landing that had a window + looking on the garden. It had always been a favourite spot with Rose; in + the deep-cushioned window-seat she had spent many a happy afternoon. The + linen press was of old oak, almost as old as the house. And opposite it + stood a finely-carved dower-chest with the date 1511 carved upon it. The + landing-floor, like the stairs, was of polished oak, and the wainscoted + walls had one or two old pictures on them. + </p> + <p> + Rose looked round her, feeling as she had never felt before the beauty of + her home. How fresh it was, and roomy! And what a delicious scent of + lavender came from the old linen press! “What are you doing, Wilmot? I + wish you would let me help you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you, my dearie. I’ve got what I wanted. It’s this tablecloth + Miss Sampson is going to darn for me. She’s the cleverest young lady with + her needle I ever came across, and that anxious to be useful.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you like her?” asked Rose. She could not help a certain stiffness + getting into her voice when she mentioned Rhoda, though she was ready to + laugh at herself for being jealous of her aunt’s companion. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody could help liking her, Miss Rosie. It’s just like having a bit o’ + sunshine in the house. The mistress would ha’ missed you bad enough if she + hadn’t had Miss Sampson to cheer her up. But nobody could feel lonely with + her about. And it’s wonderful what she knows about a garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they have gardens in Australia?” asked Rose. It was the sort of remark + Pauline might have made. But Rose was feeling very cross. + </p> + <p> + Wilmot did not notice the spitefulness in her voice. “They seem to have + lovely gardens out there, my dearie. Miss Sampson was telling me of the + different flowering trees they’ve got when she was in the kitchen on + Tuesday. I’d promised to show her how to make those drop cakes you’re so + fond of, Miss Rosie. But I’ll go and see about your tea. I wish you’d come + this morning. The mistress was saying only yesterday that she was longing + to see you.” + </p> + <p> + Rose went up to her room while tea was being made ready for her. It was + all in perfect order, as if ready for her to take possession of it at any + moment. There was even a vase of fresh primroses on the little table by + the window. The room that had been prepared for Rhoda was next to it. The + door stood partly open, and Rose could not forbear taking one look. It was + only one look. She hurried on, feeling ashamed of her curiosity. But she + got an impression of exquisite neatness and freshness, and by some odd + working of the law of contrast it was Pauline’s room she thought of as she + ran downstairs. + </p> + <p> + In the dining-room she noticed with jealous eyes how carefully the plants + in the flower-stands before the windows had been tended, and with what + care and skill the flowers on the table had been arranged. Wilmot hung + round her at tea, pressing her to eat all sorts of dainties, and she could + have easily learnt a great deal about Rhoda. The old servant seemed + anxious to speak of her, anxious to impress Rose with her sweetness and + goodness. + </p> + <p> + But Rose cut her short. She refused to interest herself in the stranger + who in a few weeks’ time would pass out of their lives again. And she grew + cross at last at Wilmot’s continual praises of her. + </p> + <p> + She went back by an earlier train than she had intended. She found that + her aunt and the others would not return till dark; it was no good to wait + for them. + </p> + <p> + She walked from Victoria to Chelsea along the Embankment, trying to + convince herself that it was good to be in London. But her step flagged as + she went up the stone stairs, and when she got to the flat and found that + Pauline had not returned, a great flood of loneliness rushed over her. She + put her flowers down on the table, and, covering her face with her hands, + she burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. AN INVITATION. + </h2> + <p> + It was nearly ten o’clock when Pauline returned. Madame Verney had begged + her so hard to stay and keep her company that she had not been able to + refuse, she told Rose, with many caresses. + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking of you all the time, you poor darling. But what + could I do? Félicie—she begged me this evening to call her Félicie—was + so bent on my staying. I am going to take you to see her tomorrow. I + talked so much about my little English Rose. And what have you been doing + with yourself? What a pity you did not go to the concert! It was glorious. + We had delightful seats. I never enjoyed a concert so much before.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been to Woodcote,” Rose broke in. “It was such a lovely afternoon + I could not stay indoors.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline looked dismayed. “To Woodcote?” she said sharply. “What a strange + idea, Rose! I thought you were going into the Park. Was not Miss Merivale + surprised to see you alone? I fancy she thinks we are like the Siamese + Twins—always together.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not see Aunt Lucy. They had all gone to Guilford. I only saw + Wilmot.” + </p> + <p> + “Wilmot? That’s the cook, isn’t it? I never can remember servants’ names. + Well, did she condole with you about the concert, and think me a wretch + for deserting you? I am afraid Miss Merivale will think so.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t say anything about the concert,” returned Rose. “She talked + about Miss Sampson chiefly. She seems to think her perfect.” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay,” returned Pauline, with a yawn. “Those sort of people always + hang together. She’s more of Wilmot’s class than ours, you know. I wonder + what your aunt thinks of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Aunt Lucy thinks her perfect too,” returned Rose, no longer able to + keep her jealousy out of her voice. “And so does Tom. I don’t believe they + miss me one little bit, Pauline.” + </p> + <p> + “Did Wilmot tell you that?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I am sure they don’t. Little things she said made me think so.” + </p> + <p> + “You silly child!” laughed Pauline. “Did you want your aunt to fret + herself to death because you weren’t there to run her errands? You ought + to be glad she finds Miss Sampson so useful. She may be willing to let you + stay on with me all the summer. Wouldn’t that be delightful? Why, what a + gloomy little face! Rose, I believe you are angry because I accepted + Félicie’s invitation. But I am not going to leave you alone again. I must + remember you are not like Clare. You are vexed with me, now confess it.” + </p> + <p> + “I see you could not help it,” Rose answered wearily. “And I was glad to + go home. I shall go again on Saturday. You must come with me, Pauline.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell your aunt that I wanted you to go to the concert alone, then,” + said Pauline, with a laugh. “She is such a dear old-fashioned thing, she + might be shocked at me. And I believe you were shocked, just a little. How + Clare would have laughed at you!” + </p> + <p> + There was an expression of alarm in Pauline’s eyes as she watched Rose. + She began to fear that she had really offended her by her behaviour. She + had been so sure of her influence that she had not thought it necessary to + consider her, but she told herself now that she had been distinctly + foolish. And she tried her best to make Rose forget that she had been + deserted for a new friend. But she could not chase away the shadow from + Rose’s face. It was not her disappointment about the concert which had + brought it there. It was the feeling that she was not being missed at + home. + </p> + <p> + Next morning she was practising her scales in the sitting-room, after + Pauline had gone to give some lessons, when Tom was ushered in by Mrs. + Richards. Rose ran to meet him with a glad cry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Tom, this is nice! Has Aunt Lucy come with you?” + </p> + <p> + “No; she sent me. She wants you and Miss Smythe to spend Saturday to + Monday with us. Why didn’t you let us know you were coming yesterday, + Rosie? Aunt Lucy was so disappointed when she found you had come down.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t think of it till the middle of the day. You had gone to + Guilford, they told me. Wasn’t that too far for Aunt Lucy?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should it be?” asked Tom in a surprised tone. “She has often driven + as far as that. She seemed to enjoy it. She is certainly stronger, Rosie. + But you will see on Saturday. You look rather pale. Come out with me. If + you’ll ask me to lunch, I can stay.” + </p> + <p> + Rose hesitated. “I don’t think you would like Mrs. Richards’ cooking, Tom. + I would rather you wouldn’t stay.” + </p> + <p> + “You inhospitable sister! Well, I’ll ask you to lunch with me. Run and put + your hat on and let us go out. It is a glorious morning.” + </p> + <p> + He watched her rather impatiently as she got the case and began to put her + violin away. He was anxious to get her out into the open air. It + distressed him to see how pale she was. And he had an uneasy feeling that + he had been neglecting his little sister lately. For days he had hardly + thought of her. + </p> + <p> + “You aren’t practising too hard, I hope, Rosie?” he said kindly. “You + mustn’t overdo it, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t practise too much,” Rose returned. She did not tell him that + she found it impossible to practise except when Pauline was out. Pauline’s + neuralgia came on directly she began to play. “And how does Miss Sampson + suit, Tom? I hope she looks after Aunt Lucy properly?” + </p> + <p> + Tom flushed up. “You will see for yourself on Saturday, Rosie. Aunt Lucy + is very fond of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Wilmot told me that.” + </p> + <p> + Tom gave his sister a hasty glance, was on the point of saying something, + but checked himself. And there was a moment’s silence before he spoke. “I + wish you had not settled to stay here till June, Rosie. We want you at + home.” + </p> + <p> + It was in a choked voice Rose answered him. “I don’t believe you do want + me. Aunt Lucy has got Miss Sampson. She doesn’t want me.” + </p> + <p> + Tom again paused a moment before he spoke. Each time Rose mentioned Rhoda + in that slighting tone it roused his anger against her. But he told + himself that Rose did not know Rhoda yet, and he must wait till they had + seen something of each other before he could expect Rose’s sympathy. He + spoke very calmly and reasonably after the pause. + </p> + <p> + “Did you wish Aunt Lucy to be miserable while you were away, Rose? It was + your own wish to go. Surely you ought to be glad that she has found + someone to fill your place.” + </p> + <p> + He felt he had said the wrong thing before Rose turned on him, her eyes + flashing. “How could Miss Sampson, a stranger, fill my place? Tom, you are + horrid!” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” he said stoutly, bent on defending the position he had taken + up. “I don’t want to hurt you, Rosie; but look at the thing reasonably. + Remember that you told me you were bored to death at home, that you would + give anything to live in London all the year round. I didn’t believe you. + But suppose you had really wanted it? You couldn’t have expected to keep + your place at home and yet have the freedom of a life like this. If a girl + gives up her home duties, she must take the consequences.” + </p> + <p> + “I have only been away a fortnight,” said Rose, with a trembling lip, “and + I shall feel nothing but a visitor when I go back on Saturday. You—you + only ask me because I went home yesterday and found you gone. I don’t + believe you want me a bit.” And, to Tom’s distress and amazement, Rose, + poor little homesick Rose, burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would go back with me this minute and you’d find out whether + we wanted you,” he exclaimed, drawing her hands down from her face. “You + silly child, what would Aunt Lucy say if she heard you talking such + nonsense? Rosie, just listen to me a moment. I am going to tell you + something I haven’t even told Aunt Lucy yet, though I believe she guesses. + Don’t cry any more. Just listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + The quiver in Tom’s voice made Rose look wonderingly at him. It was very + unlike him to show any emotion. His cool, matter-of-fact way of looking at + things had often irritated her. But she saw now that he was deeply moved. + And the reason of his agitation suddenly flashed upon her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Tom!” she faltered out. + </p> + <p> + “Rosie, you’ll try to like her?” he said eagerly. “I’m not sure—I’m + sure of nothing, except that I shall never be happy again unless—Rosie, + you will be nice to her? You don’t know her. There is nobody like her. You + won’t be able to help liking her, I’m sure of that.” + </p> + <p> + Rose was still looking at him with wide-open, wondering eyes. + </p> + <p> + “But, Tom, is she—is she a lady?” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + He frowned. “She hasn’t sixteen quarterings on her shield, if you mean + that. But you won’t ask the question again when you have seen her, Rose.” + </p> + <p> + Rose did not remind him that she had seen her. She was trying to recall + her as she sat at the side table busy over her typewriting. Her jealousy + of Rhoda had somehow vanished in the light of Tom’s wonderful confession. + She was eager to see the girl again who might one day be her sister. + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think Aunt Lucy knows, Tom?” she asked in a doubtful voice. + Tom’s future wife had been often a subject for conversation between Miss + Merivale and Rose. And of the two, Miss Merivale had been the more + ambitious in her wishes. She had seemed to think that hardly anyone could + be good enough for Tom. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure she knows,” returned Tom, with conviction. “But don’t say + anything to her, Rosie. I shouldn’t have told you unless”— + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad you told me, Tom,” said Rose, drawing a deep breath. “And I’m + sure I shall like her. I’m sure she must be nice.” + </p> + <p> + Tom beamed at her. “But you did see her for a moment, Rosie. She came here + while you were staying with Miss Smythe last month.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; she sat at that table, and wrote the letters,” Rose said, nodding + towards the little side table in the corner. “She had a brown dress on, I + remember. Tom, am I expected to say that I thought her very pretty? I + hardly looked at her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you will see her on Saturday,” Tom said. + </p> + <p> + Rose noticed that his voice sounded quite different when he spoke of + Rhoda. And there came a look into his face she had never seen there + before. It was impossible for her to cherish any jealous feelings in face + of the great fact that Tom was in love. It thrilled her to think of it. + </p> + <p> + That evening, when Tom was gone, and she and Pauline were sitting together + in their little sitting-room, she let her book lie unheeded on her lap, + while she looked forward dreamily into the future. She took it for granted + that Tom and Rhoda would marry. It seemed quite out of the question that + Tom could be refused. How strange it would be to have a sister! She had so + often wished for a sister. She hoped Rhoda would soon learn to love her. + She thought of her quite naturally as Rhoda now, and was tremulously eager + to see her again. She was sure that the girl Tom loved must be worthy of + his love. And the fact that he had made her his confidante had taken all + bitterness out of her heart. She was proud that he had trusted her. + </p> + <p> + “Rosie, whatever is your little head full of?” asked Pauline suddenly. She + had been watching her for some moments, unable to interpret the shining, + far-off look in her blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + Rose pave a start and looked hastily round. “I was thinking of Tom,” she + said, feeling her colour rise. + </p> + <p> + “Tom ought to be flattered,” laughed Pauline. “I believe you had forgotten + my existence. How you started when I spoke! Where were you? At Woodcote?” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy so,” said Rose, getting up and stretching her hands above her + head. “Shall we have supper now, Pauline? I wonder why that lamp smells + so. Ours never do at home. I must ask Wilmot how to clean it. I am sure + Mrs. Richards can’t do it properly.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t suppose she does, my dear. I believe Sampson tried to teach her. + She’s a domestic genius, isn’t she? I am beginning to feel grateful to + Sampson. If your aunt had not heard of her you wouldn’t have come to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Pauline, I wish you would not speak of her like that,” said Rose, with a + note of irritation in her voice. “Why do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn’t I? It isn’t as if she was a lady. One of her uncles is a + butcher; she told Clare so.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why she should be ashamed of it,” returned Rose, answering + Pauline’s tone rather than her words. “It’s what people are in themselves + that matters, not what trade their relations belong to. But Miss Sampson + has no relations of her very own. The M’Alisters adopted her. And Aunt + Lucy thinks that her uncle might have been Cousin Lydia’s husband. It is + that which made Aunt Lucy so interested in her at first. For, you know, if + Cousin Lydia’s little girl had lived, she would have had Woodcote, and not + Tom. And she and her father would have come to England when Uncle James + died.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline was watching Rose’s face curiously. She did not feel any interest + in Cousin Lydia and her husband, but she could not understand Rose’s + change of attitude towards Rhoda Sampson. One explanation occurred to her—a + delightful one. Had Rose made up her mind to spend the summer in London + with her? Was this the reason she felt glad that her aunt had someone she + liked to take her place? + </p> + <p> + “Well, as I said before, Rosie, I am grateful to Miss Rhoda Sampson,” she + said laughingly. “If she was not at Woodcote, you would not be here. And I + shall get more and more grateful to her as the weeks go on. I may get to + love her in time, if she enables us to spend the summer together. You are + quite happy about your aunt now, aren’t you, my Rose?” + </p> + <p> + Rose looked aghast at the prospect of spending the whole summer in the + flat. She hardly knew how she was to endure it till June. + </p> + <p> + “I must go home in June, Pauline,” she said hastily. “I couldn’t stay + longer than that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shall see,” said Pauline gaily. “You won’t talk so lightly about + going back when you have had a few more weeks of freedom, Rose. And if + your aunt is so well provided for, there will be no need for you to go + back. You won’t be wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, I shall be,” Rose answered, with a swelling heart. Tom had made + her feel sure of that. “Pauline, please don’t think about my staying here + after June. I can’t stay. I want to go home.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t forgiven me for that wretched concert!” Pauline exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t thought of it again. It isn’t that, Pauline. How could it be? + But I want to go home.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be miserable, just as you were before. Remember how you talked + to me. You were bored to death.” + </p> + <p> + Rose flushed scarlet. “I wasn’t. Or if I was, I don’t mean to be so silly + again.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline looked at her with an angry glance. “You are a homesick baby, + Rose, that is the long and short of it. I gave you credit for being + grown-up. It was a mistake you coming here at all. Clare didn’t get + homesick.” + </p> + <p> + “Clare had her work,” answered Rose, knitting her pretty brows and looking + miserably at Pauline’s angry face. “I am doing nothing I couldn’t do as + well at home. I could come up once a week for lessons. Pauline, don’t be + angry. You didn’t really think I should stay on after June, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “I gave you credit for meaning what you said,” returned Pauline harshly. + “And what you said was true. You were not happy at home. If you go back, + you will get bored and unhappy again.” + </p> + <p> + Rose shook her head. She had had a sharp lesson. She knew what the freedom + was worth that Pauline had offered her. She longed to take up again the + little daily cares that had filled her life at home. And she longed to get + away from Pauline. She was beginning to feel that she had never really + known her till now. + </p> + <p> + Pauline waited a moment for her to speak, and then turned sharply away. + “Well, I shall not press you to stay with me. Madame Verney would be glad + if I could live with her. I said it was impossible yesterday, as I was + bound to you. Now I shall feel quite free to make my own arrangements. But + you have disappointed me, Rose. I must tell you so quite frankly.” + </p> + <p> + And Rose felt quite crushed for the moment by the judicial air with which + Pauline pronounced this judgment on her. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. PAULINE HAS HER SUSPICIONS. + </h2> + <p> + Pauline and Rose went down to Woodcote on Friday evening. + </p> + <p> + Pauline had apparently recovered her spirits, and was in her brightest + mood. She had been very sweet and caressing to Rose ever since their talk + on the evening of Tom’s visit to the flat. Rose inwardly chafed at this + show of affection; she had ceased to believe in Pauline’s sincerity. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale was waiting at the station for them with the pony carriage. + The groom had driven her down, but Rose begged to be allowed to drive + back. It was the first time she had driven the new pony, which was a + pretty, gentle, timid creature, obedient to the lightest touch on the + reins. + </p> + <p> + “We must take Miss Smythe to Bingley woods to-morrow, Rose dear,” Miss + Merivale said, as they drove slowly up the long hill from the station. + “The primroses are very plentiful this year. Tom says the ground is + carpeted with them.” + </p> + <p> + Rose did not answer. The pony had started aside at the sight of a railway + train that had just come out of the tunnel, and she was engaged in + soothing it. + </p> + <p> + “Rose, you had better let me drive,” Pauline suggested. “I drove a great + deal when I was staying with the Warehams. You are not firm enough.” + </p> + <p> + “It is only trains and traction engines Bob is frightened of,” Miss + Merivale said. “And coaxing is best, I am sure. There, we shall have no + more trouble with him now. He is a dear little fellow.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline said nothing, but she had some difficulty in keeping herself from + shrugging her shoulders. She thought both Miss Merivale and Rose + deplorably weak and silly. A smart stroke with the whip was what the pony + wanted. But she had come down determined to be on her best behaviour, and + she made some smiling remark on the beauty of the country. + </p> + <p> + “Rose has been pining for fresh air like a lark in a cage,” she said. “Are + you content now, Rosie?” + </p> + <p> + “Tom said she looked pale,” Miss Merivale said, giving Rose an anxious, + loving glance. “I wish you would come down again next week, dear. I can’t + let a fortnight pass again without seeing you; it is much too long.” + </p> + <p> + “Time goes faster in London,” said Pauline, without allowing Rose to + answer. “It seems only yesterday that Rose came to me. How quiet it is + here! Don’t you miss the roar of London, Rosie? I do. Not the clatter of + cabs and carts, but that deep, low roar we hear when we open the window. + It is like the voice of the great city. There is no music like it.” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather hear the birds,” Miss Merivale said gently; but she gave + Rosie another anxious look. She was wondering if the time had gone as + quickly with her as with Pauline. + </p> + <p> + Rose did not speak. She was waiting till they got home to pour her heart + out to her aunt. She could not speak before Pauline. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I haven’t many rustic tastes,” Pauline said in a cool, + superior voice. “But it is certainly lovely here. What a delightful change + it must be for that little Miss Sampson! I hear you find her very useful, + Miss Merivale. Clare will be pleased to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time in her life Pauline saw Miss Merivale look angry. Her + mild blue eyes actually flashed as she answered in a voice that trembled a + little, “I don’t think you can have heard that Rhoda is related to us, + Miss Smythe. She is staying with me as my visitor. Rose, my dear, I want + you to be very good to her.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline stole a look at Rose, expecting to see a cloud of jealousy on her + pretty face; but she saw instead a tender, happy smile lurking in the + corners of her lips. She was distinctly mystified. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I remember now that Rose spoke of some distant family connection,” + she said carelessly to Miss Merivale. “How very good of you to acknowledge + it, dear Miss Merivale! Some people wouldn’t, I know. They think poor + relations should be kept out of sight as much as possible. But Miss + Sampson is hardly to be called a relation, is she? I forget the exact link + between you, though Rose told me.” + </p> + <p> + “She is related to poor Cousin Lydia’s second husband,” Rose said, as Miss + Merivale did not answer. “He and his little girl were lost in the bush, + weren’t they, Aunt Lucy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear,” said Miss Merivale in a low voice. Her face had become very + white. + </p> + <p> + “If she had lived, we might never have come to Woodcote,” Rose went on, + her glance resting lovingly on the old house, which had just come into + sight. “How strange it seems to think of that! How old was she, Aunt Lucy? + It is only lately I have thought of her at all.” + </p> + <p> + “She was about two years old, dear,” Miss Merivale answered in the same + low voice. Pauline, who was watching her in some wonder, could see that + she was profoundly agitated. + </p> + <p> + “Then she would have been about twenty now,” Rose went on, not noticing + her aunt’s disinclination to talk of her niece. “How old is Miss Sampson, + Aunt Lucy? I wonder if they ever saw each other.” + </p> + <p> + “She is nearly twenty; I remember Clare telling me so,” said Pauline, + answering for Miss Merivale. “But she looks much older. It is the kind of + life she has lived, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + Rose was intent on turning the curve of the drive in a masterly manner, + and did not answer this. And Pauline, after another glance at Miss + Merivale’s face, was silent about Rhoda. It was plain to her that, for + some reason or another, the subject was intensely painful to Miss + Merivale. + </p> + <p> + Rhoda came shyly across the hall as they entered. She had on a new brown + dress that Miss Merivale had given her. It was brown cashmere, made very + simply, but it was a prettier dress than Pauline had ever seen her + wearing, and she stared undisguisedly at her as they shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly knew you, Miss Sampson,” she said. “How very well you are + looking! But you must be having quite a holiday.” + </p> + <p> + The condescending tone did not appear to irritate Rhoda. She answered + pleasantly; there was even a twinkle deep down in her dark eyes as she met + Pauline’s glance. + </p> + <p> + It was Rose who felt irritated. Now that she saw Rhoda’s face in the full + light, with no hat to shade it, she recognised what a frank, sweet face it + was. She did not wonder that Tom loved her, or that her aunt smiled upon + his wooing. And Pauline’s assumption of superiority vexed her intensely. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale asked Rhoda to show Pauline the room that had been prepared + for her, and they went upstairs together. Rose cast an anxious glance + after them. + </p> + <p> + “I had better go too, Aunt Lucy.” + </p> + <p> + “No, wait a moment, darling. I want to have a good look at you. Tom gave + me a bad account. And you are looking pale. You are not working too hard?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it,” laughed Rose. “And I am quite well. But I shall be glad + when June comes, Aunt Lucy. I am beginning to count the days. But don’t + tell Pauline that.” + </p> + <p> + A delighted look flashed into Miss Merivale’s face. “My darling, it is so + sweet to hear you say that. I was afraid you would find it dull here when + you came back. I have missed you more than I could tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” asked Rose half wistfully, half teasingly. “You’ve had Miss + Sampson, you know, Aunt Lucy.” + </p> + <p> + “I want you both,” Miss Merivale said in an eager voice. “Rose, you will + try to love her, won’t you? She is so lonely. Mrs. M’Alister and her + children have gone to Devonshire, and Rhoda was left behind. She has + nobody but us. You won’t treat her like a stranger, will you, dearest?” + </p> + <p> + Rose felt chilled and hurt by her aunt’s strange eagerness. It was all + very well for Tom to speak so, but her aunt was different. Why should she + plead for Rhoda like that? + </p> + <p> + “You’ll see how sweet I mean to be to her, Aunt Lucy,” she said gaily; and + Miss Merivale did not notice that the gaiety was forced. “I’ll go up now + and send her down to you. I wonder why Pauline is keeping her.” + </p> + <p> + She hastened away, and Miss Merivale sat down in the porch and put her + hand on the head of Bruno, Tom’s black Newfoundland, who had come to her + side with an inquiring glance in his beautiful eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Your master will be home soon, Bruno,” she said. The dog wagged his tail, + but still kept looking at her. She went on speaking to him. “And + everything is coming right, Bruno,” she said. “I am glad I was silent. + It’s all coming right. We shall all be happy together.” + </p> + <p> + She looked round as she spoke, and saw Rhoda coming down the broad shallow + stairs into the wainscoted hall. A tender smile brightened her face as she + watched her. She had lost the feeling that she was doing her an injustice + by not acknowledging her as her niece. As Tom’s wife she would be as a + daughter to her. She would have everything that was hers by right. + </p> + <p> + Rhoda stepped rather slowly down, her head bent, a line of anxiety showing + between her clearly pencilled dark brows. She knew something about Pauline + that she was beginning to feel Miss Merivale should know. Yet she had no + wish to disclose the secret she had accidentally learnt. At first it had + amused her, it amused her still. In the brief, decidedly unpleasant <i>tete-a-tete</i> + which Rose had just put an end to, she had found it easy to bear Pauline’s + half-veiled taunts. Ever since her visit to Leyton she had understood the + bitter animosity which Miss Smythe had shown her from the first. It was + not altogether a personal dislike. Rhoda was sure that she would have + treated in the same manner any girl who was poor and yet was not ashamed + of her poverty or of her friends. + </p> + <p> + “Rhoda.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale’s gentle call made her hurry her footsteps. Her face had a + wonderfully sweet look on it as she approached Miss Merivale. Miss + Merivale’s kindness had completely won the girl’s heart. She was so happy + at Woodcote that sometimes she felt as if it must be a dream from which + she would awake to find herself in the lonely bedroom in Acacia Road with + the boys’ cots empty, and a long London day of searching for work to look + forward to. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down here beside me, dear,” Miss Merivale said, taking her hand and + drawing her down on the seat. “Just look at Bruno. He has been asking me + when Tom is coming back. I tell him he will be back in a few moments.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda had turned her head quickly away to look at the dog, but Miss + Merivale saw how her colour rose, making even the little ear pink. And she + smiled to herself. + </p> + <p> + “I hope Tom will be able to go with us to-morrow,” she went on, without + giving Rhoda time to speak. “I want to take Miss Smythe to Bingley woods. + It is too early for a picnic, but we could drive over there directly after + lunch. Ah, there is Tom.” + </p> + <p> + Bruno had heard the click of the wicket gate leading to the stables before + Miss Merivale spoke. So had Rhoda. She started up. “I promised Wilmot I + would light the lamps, Miss Merivale, as Ann is out. We shall want them + for tea.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale let her go, smiling softly again to herself. “Rose and Miss + Smythe have come, Tom,” she called to him, as he crossed the lawn, + swinging his stick, and walking with a free, happy step. + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad of that. Where is Rosie? I’m afraid I shall not be able to see + much of her to-morrow, Aunt Lucy. I must go to Croydon, after all. But + I’ll get back early. How do you think Rose is looking?” + </p> + <p> + “She is pale, Tom; but she says she is very well. I don’t think she likes + it as much as she expected She is anxious to come home in June.” + </p> + <p> + Tom’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, I gathered that on Tuesday. I am glad you let + her go, Aunt Lucy. But there is no need for her to stay till June if she + does not like it, is there? Why should she go back at all?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think it would be quite fair to Miss Smythe for her to leave her + now, dear,” said Miss Merivale gently. “I am sure Rose would rather go + back.” + </p> + <p> + Their talk was interrupted by Rose herself, who came flying across the + hall at the sight of Tom, followed more slowly by Pauline. “Oh, Tom, have + you come back? I drove Bob from the station. Did Aunt Lucy tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “She hasn’t had time. I have only just come in. How do you do, Miss + Smythe? I hope Rose has been a good little girl since Tuesday?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you, Rose?” said Pauline, with a lazy smile. + </p> + <p> + Rose did not hear the question. She had caught sight of Rhoda entering the + hall through the swing doors that led to Wilmot’s pantry, and she stepped + back to speak to her. They stood talking together by the wide stone + hearth, filled now with green fir boughs. Pauline noticed how Tom’s eyes + kept wandering to them as he made disjointed remarks to her and his aunt, + and he presently moved across the hall to join them. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale got up from her seat in the porch. “It is getting chilly, my + dear,” she said to Pauline. “Shall we go into the dining-room? Tea will be + ready in a few moments.” + </p> + <p> + But Pauline lingered in the hall. Though the twilight had begun to gather, + enough light streamed through the great west window to make the portraits + on the wainscoted walls clearly visible. Pauline went from one to the + other, asking Miss Merivale a question now and then, but really far more + intent on studying the group at the fireplace than the pictures she + appeared to be interested in. + </p> + <p> + Over the fireplace hung the portrait of Miss Merivale’s mother, a sweet, + gentle-eyed woman, very much like Miss Merivale, except that her eyes were + a soft brown instead of a soft blue. + </p> + <p> + Pauline remarked on the likeness at once. “Except for the dark eyes, it + might be your portrait, Miss Merivale.” + </p> + <p> + Rose had been glancing from the portrait to Rhoda. “Aunt Lucy, your + mother’s eyes are exactly the same colour as Miss Sampson’s.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline, who was standing by Miss Merivale, felt her start violently. “I + had not noticed, dear,” she said, without looking at Rhoda. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but they are,” Rose went on. “Only Miss Sampson’s are shaped a little + differently. And she was named Rhoda, wasn’t she, Aunt Lucy? Tom, don’t + you see the likeness?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t say I do, Rosie,” said Tom, who considered in his heart of hearts + that Rhoda’s long-lashed, sparkling dark eyes were far more beautiful than + the mild brown ones in the portrait. As he spoke he moved quickly towards + his aunt. “Aunt Lucy, it is too cold for you here. Come in by the + dining-room fire. Why, you are trembling with the cold. The evening is + very chilly for April.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline stood still for a moment gazing intently up at the picture, and + then followed the others into the dining-room. Before Tom had spoken to + his aunt she had seen how white and strange her face was—as white as + if she was about to faint. And a sudden idea had flashed upon Pauline, + making her heart beat fast. + </p> + <p> + That night, when Rhoda was brushing her hair, she heard a soft tap at the + door. To her surprise, it was Pauline who entered. + </p> + <p> + “I have come to borrow some matches,” she said. “I find my box is empty. + How pretty your room is! So is mine. It is a charming house altogether. + May I sit down and talk to you a little? I want you and Miss Merivale to + spend a long day with us next week. Do you think you could persuade her to + come?” + </p> + <p> + The change in Pauline’s manner was so extraordinary that Rhoda found it + difficult to speak. But Pauline did not appear to notice her constrained + answer. She sat down in the low chair by the window and took up the + photograph frame that stood there by Rhoda’s little writing case and a + saucer filled with white violets and moss. + </p> + <p> + “May I look at this? It is your aunt and cousins, isn’t it? What a dear + little fellow that is on your aunt’s lap! Is that the little boy who was + ill? You took him into the country, didn’t you?” + </p> + <p> + An irrepressible glimmer of fun came into Rhoda’s dark eyes. “Yes, into + Essex,” she said demurely. + </p> + <p> + “They have all gone into the country now, haven’t they? How fortunate it + was that Miss Merivale heard me mention you, Miss Sampson! She noticed the + name at once. It is quite certain, isn’t it, that you are related to her + through her sister’s marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Merivale insists on thinking so,” said Rhoda quietly. “But I cannot + be sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you remember your own people at all? I can feel for you, if that is + so. My father and mother died while I was a baby. Can you remember your + mother? I wish I could.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I cannot remember her.” + </p> + <p> + “And your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Just a little.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda’s cold, brief replies checked Pauline. She did not find it so easy + to pump Rhoda as she had expected. She put the photograph down, and got up + with a yawn. “I am keeping you up,” she said. “May I have the matches? + Thank you. Good-night.” She gave Rhoda one of her most charming smiles as + she spoke; but Rhoda’s good-night was studiously cold. She had no desire + to accept the olive branch Pauline was holding out to her. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. A CONFESSION. + </h2> + <p> + The more Pauline thought of it the more she felt convinced that she had + solved the mystery of Miss Merivale’s sudden interest in Rhoda. And she + spent a long time in considering what was the best use she could make of + her discovery. + </p> + <p> + Her first idea had been to disclose the truth to Rhoda herself, and thus + establish a claim to her gratitude. But something in Rhoda’s manner the + night before made her hesitate. And she felt half inclined to believe that + her best plan would be to speak to Miss Merivale and assure her that she + could be trusted to keep silent. + </p> + <p> + She was still undecided when she went into the garden next morning to help + Rose pick the flowers for the table. + </p> + <p> + Rhoda was already in the garden. Old Jackson, the gardener, had come to + the house to seek her directly after breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Jackson expects Rhoda to spend half the day in his company,” Miss + Merivale said, with a laugh. “He won’t sow a seed without asking her + opinion first. My opinions he has always laughed to scorn.” + </p> + <p> + “And mine too,” said Rose, with a merry glance at Rhoda. “He has always + been a regular despot about the garden. How have you managed to subdue + him, Miss Sampson?” + </p> + <p> + “I expect he has found out that Miss Sampson knows more than he does,” + said Pauline smilingly. “I want you to teach me something about flowers + while I am here, Miss Sampson. I have schemes for a flower-box outside our + windows at the flat. Don’t you think that would be a delightful plan, + Rosie?” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda made some fitting response, but Pauline discerned the coldness in + her voice. She said angrily to herself that Rhoda did not deserve to know + what she could tell her. And ten minutes later she had fully made up her + mind to speak to Miss Merivale. It was another discovery which had led her + to a decision. She had wandered on before Rose towards the end of the + garden, where an archway through a clipped yew hedge led to the stables + and farm buildings. Her steps made no sound on the turf path, and she + suddenly came in sight of Tom and Rhoda standing close to the archway. + Rhoda had her gardening gloves and apron on, and a trowel in her hand. She + had just been sowing seeds in the bed that ran along the yew hedge. Tom + had come through the archway to bid her good-bye before starting on his + long ride. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I was going to Bingley woods with you,” he said. “You will have a + lovely day.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it will be beautiful,” Rhoda answered, finding it just as difficult + as Tom did to speak these ordinary words in an ordinary tone. A blush came + over her face, and she dropped her eyes. She could not meet his eager + glance. For one moment Tom was silent—a moment that was eloquent to + them both. Then, “Rhoda!” he said, almost below his breath. + </p> + <p> + It was at that moment Pauline turned the corner by the great lilac bushes + and caught sight of them. Rhoda came towards her instantly, showing no + sign of discomposure except a controlled quivering at the corners of her + firm lips; but Pauline was not deceived by her calmness. Her only doubt + was as to whether Tom shared Miss Merivale’s knowledge as to Rhoda’s + parentage. And after a moment or two’s consideration she decided that he + did not. It was impossible to look at Tom and doubt his perfect honesty. + </p> + <p> + After a short talk, he went through the archway to start on his ride, and + Pauline returned to Rose, leaving Rhoda to her gardening. + </p> + <p> + “Rose, why didn’t you warn me?” she said in a tone of laughing reproach + when she joined her. “I am afraid your brother will never forgive me. I + have just interrupted a <i>tête-à -tête</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Pauline?” asked Rose, jarred through and through by her + friend’s tone. + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible you don’t guess, you blind girl? But perhaps you would + rather I did not speak of it? I thought I could say anything to you, + Rosie.” + </p> + <p> + “You spoke of Tom,” Rose answered. “Of course I know what you mean, + Pauline.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you are jealous, Rosie.” + </p> + <p> + Rose flashed a glance at her. “I am not jealous. I am not so horrid as + that. But don’t make a joke of it, Pauline, please don’t.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline burst into a loud laugh. “Oh, Rosie, what a solemn little face! + But, seriously, do you think the course of true love is likely to run + smooth? Surely your aunt will object. We are not all so unworldly and + sentimental as you.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lucy is glad, I am sure of it. And so am I,” said Rose stoutly, “I + am beginning to see what Rhoda is.” + </p> + <p> + “You think Miss Merivale will be glad? Well, you are odd people. I shall + begin to think Miss Sampson must have a fairy godmother. It’s a new + version of Cinderella, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + This made Rose too angry to answer, and she walked away to the next + flower-bed to put an end to the conversation. Pauline did not attempt to + follow her. After standing in deep thought for a moment, she returned to + the house. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale was sitting in the drawing-room busy with her embroidery. + She looked up with a smile as Pauline entered. “I was just wishing you or + Rose would come in, Miss Smythe,” she said. “I am not sure whether blue or + green would be best for the centre of this flower.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline gravely examined the embroidery, and gave her opinion. Then she + took up the basket of silks. “May I sort these for you, Miss Merivale?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do, my dear. The kittens got hold of the basket just now and made sad + work with it.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline seated herself at a little distance and began quickly and + skilfully to arrange the basket, glancing once or twice at her companion. + Miss Merivale looked very composed and cheerful. She was intent on her + embroidery, and seemed in no hurry to talk. + </p> + <p> + It was Pauline who began the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “I have just been talking to Miss Sampson in the garden, Miss Merivale. + How very happy she seems here!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think she is happy, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you and Rosie had not come to the flat that afternoon, you might + never have heard of her. How strangely things come about, don’t they, dear + Miss Merivale?” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad we came,” Miss Merivale answered. “What colour shall I use + for this leaf, my dear? My eyes are not what they used to be, and I like + to take advice.” + </p> + <p> + Pauline bent forward to look, and patiently discussed the question; but + she spoke of Rhoda again directly it was decided. “But something still + more strange might have happened, Miss Merivale,” she went on lightly. + “Suppose Miss Sampson had been your own niece? She might have been. People + who are supposed to be lost in the bush aren’t always lost, and—Oh, + Miss Merivale, what have I said?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale had dropped her work, and was staring at Pauline with + wide-open, terrified eyes. She made no effort to answer her. She was + incapable of speech. + </p> + <p> + “What have I said?” repeated Pauline. She got up and came close to Miss + Merivale, kneeling down beside her. “You are angry with me. I have hurt + you. Is it possible that Rhoda is your niece, and that you do not want her + to know it? But you must trust me. Please trust me, Miss Merivale.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale put her hand up to her eyes. She spoke in a stunned voice. + Pauline’s words had suddenly torn away the veil which had hidden the + meaning of her own conduct from her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Rhoda is my niece,” she said. “She is my sister Lydia’s little girl. + What made you guess it?” + </p> + <p> + Pauline was slightly taken aback at this speech of Miss Merivale’s. She + had not expected her to admit the truth so readily. “Miss Merivale, you + must trust me,” she said in a low, eager voice. “I understand exactly why + you want it to be a secret. No one shall ever know from me.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale pushed her chair back, freeing herself from the touch of + Pauline’s hands. A shock of repulsion had gone through her. + </p> + <p> + “It will be no secret after to-day,” she said in the same stunned, heavy + voice. “I shall tell Tom this afternoon. I ought to have told him before.” + </p> + <p> + Tom came home late in the afternoon. He expected to find that his aunt and + the girls had all gone to Bingley woods, and he only went to the house to + change his riding boots before going to meet them. He passed through the + archway in the yew hedge, marking with tender, happy eyes the exact spot + where Rhoda had stood that morning while they talked together. His feet + lingered a little as he went down the turf path to the house. Everything + in the garden spoke to him of Rhoda, and it was in the garden he had seen + her first. + </p> + <p> + He went through the open window of the library and across the hall. As he + reached the foot of the stairs he was surprised to hear his aunt’s voice. + </p> + <p> + She was standing at the drawing-room door, with her hand resting heavily + on the jamb. It was with difficulty she had crossed the room to call him + on hearing his step. Her limbs were trembling under her. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you had all gone to Bingley woods,” Tom exclaimed. “Have the + others gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I would not let them stay at home. I was feeling too tired to go.” + </p> + <p> + “You caught cold yesterday in the porch,” Tom said in a playful scolding + voice. “You do want a lot of looking after, Aunt Lucy. Have you a fire? + The wind is keen, though the sun is so bright. Here, let me make a better + fire than this.” + </p> + <p> + He knelt down on the rug, stirring the logs into a cheerful blaze. Miss + Merivale sank down on the sofa and watched him in silence. If Tom had + looked attentively at her, he would have seen that her face was grey with + pain. She had spent some bitter hours since Pauline had spoken to her that + morning. Though she had done it for Tom’s sake, she feared that he would + find it very hard to forgive her. And looking back over the last few + weeks, she found it almost impossible to understand how she could have + been happy for a moment while keeping such a secret from him. + </p> + <p> + The knowledge that Pauline shared the secret had been like a light brought + into a dark room. Her shock of repulsion at Pauline’s eagerness to + convince her that she would be silent had been followed by the sad + reflection that she had no right to blame Pauline for being willing to do + what she herself had done for a month past. + </p> + <p> + “There, that is better,” Tom said, getting up. “Let me draw your sofa + close up to the fire. Where is your knitting, Aunt Lucy? I know you can’t + have your afternoon nap without it.” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Merivale did not laugh at the old joke that she pretended to be + knitting when she was really fast asleep. “Tom, sit down,” she said. “I + want to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + Tom hesitated. She had spoken in so low a tone he had not noticed how her + voice trembled. “I thought I would go to meet them, Aunt Lucy. They will + be coming back by this time.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” she repeated more urgently. “I want to speak to you. I must + tell you before they come home.” + </p> + <p> + He was thoroughly startled now. “Has anything happened?” he said. “What is + it?” He drew a chair close to her and sat down, his square, honest face + full of concern. “What is it, Aunt Lucy?” + </p> + <p> + She turned away from him. It was more difficult to speak than she had + expected, though she had known it would be very difficult. “Tom, it is + about Rhoda,” she said in a choked voice. + </p> + <p> + He straightened himself in his chair. “About Rhoda?” he echoed. She heard + the challenge in his grave voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, about Rhoda. I want to tell you why I asked her here. You know that + I love her, Tom. You know how happy it has made me to see that you”— + </p> + <p> + “Dear Aunt Lucy, I was sure you had guessed,” Tom said in an eager voice. + “And”— + </p> + <p> + “Tom, wait,” she said breathlessly. “You don’t understand me yet. Has it + never struck you as strange that I should have asked Rhoda to live here, + that I should have treated her as a child of my own?” + </p> + <p> + No, Tom was not able to say that he had thought it strange. Rhoda being + Rhoda, it had seemed to him most natural that his aunt should have loved + her at first sight, just as he had done. But his voice was anxious as he + answered, “Aunt Lucy, I don’t understand in the least what you are driving + at. What is it you want to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + She turned towards him, clasping her hands together. “Tom, Rhoda is + Lydia’s little girl. She is my own niece. I have known it ever since the + first day she came to see me.” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her, not comprehending. “How can she be Cousin Lydia’s + child?” he asked. “She would have known you were her aunt.” + </p> + <p> + “She does not. She knows nothing. But, Tom, she is Lydia’s daughter. I + know it. I have known it all these weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “But why”—he began, and then stopped, a dark flush rising in his + face. He knew why his aunt had been silent. + </p> + <p> + “Tom, at first I tried to persuade myself I was mistaken,” she faltered. + “And then, when I saw”— + </p> + <p> + He made a quick gesture that was full of pain. The flush in his face had + faded, leaving it very white. “Aunt Lucy, do not speak of that,” he said, + turning his face aside. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: HE STARED AT HER, NOT COMPREHENDING.} + </p> + <p> + She drew closer to him, putting her hand on his arm. “Tom, what do you + mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you see?” he returned, just glancing at her and then looking away + again. “You have made it impossible, Aunt Lucy. I could never ask her to + marry me now.” + </p> + <p> + The bitterness in his voice overwhelmed her. “Tom, you don’t suppose she + would believe that you—Oh, what have I done? Tom, you will never + forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + At the sound of the quick sob that choked her voice he turned quickly to + her. “Aunt Lucy, do not talk like that. What is done can’t be undone. But + let me understand. What proofs have you that Rhoda is your niece? You must + write to Mr. Thomson and tell him all you know. But he will want proofs.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke so quietly, she took courage. And she was able to speak fully to + him. He listened with grave intentness, asking a question now and then. + </p> + <p> + “We must write to this Mr. Harding,” he said, when she had finished. “Mrs. + M’Alister will be sure to know his address. Shall I go up and see Mr. + Thomson for you to-morrow, Aunt Lucy? I think the first step is to tell + him.” + </p> + <p> + “And Rhoda, Tom?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait till I have seen Thomson. Though there seems no room for doubt. Aunt + Lucy, I wish you had told me at first.” + </p> + <p> + How she wished it she tried to tell him, but her tears prevented her. She + sobbed hysterically, while he did his best to soothe her, forgetting his + own pain at the sight of hers. When she could speak, her first words were + of Rhoda. + </p> + <p> + “Tom, you won’t let this come between you? Tom dear, I know she loves + you.” + </p> + <p> + His face quivered all over. “I have no right to speak to her yet,” he + said. “Perhaps—but I must wait. Can’t you see it must be so? I shall + have my own way to make in the world.” He squared his shoulders as he said + it, as if eager to begin the struggle. + </p> + <p> + “Tom, I don’t see it,” his aunt burst out. But he would not let her go on. + He could not bear it. He felt that it was utterly impossible for him to + ask Rhoda to marry him if she was heiress of Woodcote and he without a + penny he could call his own. If they had met knowing their relative + positions, it might have been different. But now he could make no claim on + her. His aunt’s conduct had raised a barrier between them that could not + be broken down till he had won an independent position for himself. + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale’s heart ached as she looked at him, but she was far from + understanding the full bitterness of the blow she had inflicted on him. + </p> + <p> + Tom felt as if he had suddenly grown old. He left his aunt presently and + went out into the open air. He no longer felt inclined to go and meet the + pony carriage, but he went through the wood to the furzy common beyond. + From there he could see the high road stretching like a white ribbon + across the downs. + </p> + <p> + No pony carriage was in sight, but a traction engine was lumbering heavily + upwards, with a man walking before it carrying a red flag. Tom was glad to + see it disappear over the dip of the hill. The lane from Bingley woods + entered the high road lower down the hill. There was no danger of Bob’s + nerves being shaken by the sight of the fiery-throated monster. + </p> + <p> + The road lay white and silent in the sunshine now. Tom sat down on a turf + hillock, fixing his eyes drearily upon it. He felt intensely miserable. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. POLLY SMITH. + </h2> + <p> + The expedition to Bingley woods was not a success. Pauline was in one of + her worst tempers, and treated Rose so rudely that the poor girl was more + ashamed of her chosen friend than angry with her. + </p> + <p> + To Rhoda, Pauline was all that was sweet and flattering. She had promised + Miss Merivale to say nothing to her; but she was eager to ingratiate + herself with the girl whom she now knew to be an heiress, and to make her + forget how she had treated her while she was Clare’s assistant. + </p> + <p> + Rhoda was strongly irritated by her advances. Pauline’s snubs had never + wounded her very deeply. Rhoda only valued the good opinion of those whom + she respected. But Pauline’s eagerness to make friends turned her + indifference to something like violent dislike. She found it hardly + possible to speak civilly to her. + </p> + <p> + She went off at last into the depths of the wood, leaving Rose and Pauline + together. Her irritation soon passed away when she was alone. The basket + she had brought to fill with primroses remained empty in her hands. She + wandered on, her eyes drinking in the beauty round her. Only the lower + boughs of the trees were in leaf as yet, and the wood was full of golden + light. Primroses were everywhere, and in the more open spaces celandines + starred the ground with deeper yellow. In a month the glades between the + trees would be carpeted by bluebells. But there were no bluebells yet. + Spring was still in its infancy. The great oaks that skirted the wood + stretched bare wintry boughs over the flowers beneath them. + </p> + <p> + It was a time of hope, of delicate, exquisite promise; and Rhoda’s lips + curved with a happy, dreamy smile, as she listened to the story the woods + whispered to her that April day. + </p> + <p> + The deep voice of the clock in Bingley church tower recalled her to the + necessity of going back to her companions. It was four o’clock, the time + they had fixed for starting homewards. It was not with any pleasure that + she thought of the long drive. She suspected that Pauline and Rose had had + a serious quarrel, and that Pauline’s politeness to her arose from a wish + to vex Rose. + </p> + <p> + All the way to the woods Pauline had criticised Rose’s driving, speaking + with authority, as if she had driven a pony carriage all her life. Rhoda + could have laughed outright if she had not been so angry. + </p> + <p> + She found the two girls ready to start for the village when she got back + to the spot where she had left them. + </p> + <p> + “Pauline wants to go round by the high road,” Rose said, looking + appealingly at Rhoda. “It will make us much later at home. You can see the + Abbey another day, Pauline. There isn’t much to see; is there, Miss + Sampson?” + </p> + <p> + “It will not take us half an hour longer. How obstinate you are, Rosie!” + exclaimed Pauline irritably. “I will drive, and make Bob understand that + he must hurry a little. Why should we walk up that long tiresome lane to + save his legs? There is no hill to speak of the other way, you say. I am + too tired to walk a step. I am not so strong as you are. Miss Sampson, + don’t you agree with me that the high road will be much the better way for + us?” + </p> + <p> + “We promised Miss Merivale that we would be back early,” Rhoda said + coldly. “I think it is a pity to go out of our way.” + </p> + <p> + “But we should be at home just as soon. Rose insists that we must all walk + up the lane. I am sure you are too tired to do it, Miss Sampson, if I was + not. But Bob is to be considered before either of us, eh, Rose?” + </p> + <p> + Rose walked down the turf slope towards the village without answering; she + was too cross to discuss the question any further. + </p> + <p> + A new complication arose when they reached the rustic inn where Bob and + the carriage had been left. One of Bob’s shoes was found to be loose, and + it was necessary to get it fixed before starting for home. + </p> + <p> + Rose drew Rhoda aside, and spoke eagerly to her. “Miss Sampson, would you + drive home with Pauline? I could walk across the downs and be home in half + an hour. I don’t like to leave Aunt Lucy so long alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me go?” Rhoda answered, as eagerly as Rose had spoken. “I + know the way quite well. I would so much rather go, if you don’t mind.” + </p> + <p> + Rose could quite well understand that Rhoda must find Pauline’s society + unpleasant, even though Pauline now appeared bent on being agreeable to + her. “Are you sure you know the way?” she said doubtfully. “But it is + easy. You will see Woodcote when once you are on the top of the downs.” + </p> + <p> + “I know the way quite well,” Rhoda said, with a bright face. It was + delightful to her to escape the drive home with Pauline. + </p> + <p> + She started at once, and was soon on the top of the downs, enjoying the + breezy expanse of beautiful rolling country round her. Half an hour’s + rapid walking brought her to the furzy common close to Woodcote woods. She + had come down to it from the downs; and Tom, seated on his hillock, with + his eyes turned to the road, did not become aware of her presence till she + was quite close to him. He had been hidden by the gorse bushes from Rhoda + till the moment before he started up. And she would have shyly hurried on + without speaking to him if the sound of her step had not made him look + round. + </p> + <p> + She hurriedly explained how she came to be there alone. “I don’t think + they will be back for an hour or more,” she said, looking at the white + ribbon of road Tom had been watching for so long. “The high road is much + longer than the lane, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Tom briefly. He had forgotten all about the traction engine. + In fact, he had hardly understood what Rhoda was saying. His heart was + heavy within him. + </p> + <p> + They turned and walked down the sunny bit of slope, where the bees were + busy among the golden gorse blossoms. Tom was not silent. He could not + trust himself to be silent. He began to speak of the meeting he had just + been attending at Croydon. He gave Rhoda a vivid account of it, which + lasted till they got close to the house; then, with a hasty excuse of + having forgotten to tell Jackson something, he left her. + </p> + <p> + Rhoda walked on to the house with a calm, even step. Wilmot, who met her + in the hall, and told her that Miss Merivale was lying down and did not + wish to be disturbed, noticed nothing unusual about her. She stood and + talked some minutes with the old servant before going upstairs to her + room. And she gave her a sunny smile as she left her. Even when she was + alone, and had shut the door between her and the world, she did not fling + herself down by the bed and burst into tears, as unhappy heroines so often + do. She changed her dress, and carefully mended a rent the briers had made + in the one she took off. Then she got <i>Hamblin Smith’s Arithmetic</i> + and her notebook, and began the hour’s work she set herself every day. A + tear or two did come—she could not keep them back; but she worked + steadily on. She would not even allow herself to think how she could have + offended Tom, or what the explanation of his changed manner could be. She + picked out the hardest examples in Complex Fractions she could find, and + concentrated her mind on them. + </p> + <p> + She was still working when Wilmot came to her door. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Rose and Miss Smythe have not come home, miss. Shall I send in tea? + It is past six o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda opened the door. “I will go and ask Miss Merivale, Wilmot.” + </p> + <p> + Wilmot looked doubtful. Her mistress had given strict orders that she was + not to be disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “I will not go in,” Rhoda said, as she saw her doubtful glance. “I will + just knock softly. If she is awake, she might be glad of a cup of tea.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda’s first knock was not answered; but when she tapped softly again, + she heard Miss Merivale’s voice telling her to come in. Miss Merivale was + lying on the bed, with her face turned to the wall. She reached out her + hand for Rhoda’s, and clasped it tenderly, but did not turn round. + </p> + <p> + “My head is very bad, darling. Tell Rose I won’t have any tea. I want to + keep quite quiet.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda did not tell her that Rose and Pauline had not returned. She was + afraid she might be alarmed. The deadly pallor of her face quite + frightened her. She spoke to Tom when she went downstairs. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Merivale looks very ill,” she said, “and she won’t let me do + anything for her.” + </p> + <p> + Tom was sitting at the table before the hall window, busy making flies for + his trout fishing. He was so intent on his work that he did not look up. + </p> + <p> + “She gets bad headaches. I should not be anxious. She always likes to be + left alone.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda did not answer this. She went into the dining-room, where tea was + laid ready, and sat down in the broad window-seat with some needlework. + </p> + <p> + If Tom had come in then, she would have been very cold to him. Her pride + was up in arms. But he did not come near her; and for a miserable half + hour Rhoda sat there alone, feeling as if all life’s music had suddenly + stopped, and winter had taken the place of spring. + </p> + <p> + Wilmot came in at last to urge her to have some tea. “Miss Rosie may be + stopping to tea at the Rectory. It isn’t any good for you and Mr. Tom to + wait any longer.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda looked at the clock in some alarm. She had not been conscious of the + lapse of time. “I don’t think Miss Rosie meant to stop anywhere, Wilmot. + But they ought to be home. I hope nothing has happened.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment Tom entered the room. “It is getting very late,” he said to + Rhoda. “How long did Jones mean to take to put that shoe right? Not very + long, surely.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Merivale thought they would be at home by six o’clock,” Rhoda + answered. + </p> + <p> + “And it is seven now,” Tom said, glancing at the clock. “It will be dark + in half an hour. They were coming by the high road all the way, didn’t you + say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; Miss Smythe did not want to go up the lane. But the high road is not + very much longer, is it, Mr. Merivale?” + </p> + <p> + “About two miles longer. But it is a better road. They ought to be home by + this time.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda was standing by the window, and he came to her side and looked out. + He carefully avoided glancing at her, yet he knew that her face was very + proud and cold. + </p> + <p> + “I think I will go down the road to meet them,” he said. His voice shook a + little. It was very hard—it was almost harder than he could bear—to + let her go on misunderstanding him. Yet how could he explain? + </p> + <p> + “I wish they would come home,” Rhoda answered. “Do go and meet them, Mr. + Merivale. Miss Smythe wanted to drive, and I do not trust her driving.” + </p> + <p> + “Bob doesn’t want much driving,” Tom answered. But as he spoke he suddenly + remembered the traction engine crawling up the hill. For the first time he + felt really alarmed. “I will go down the road,” he said, moving quickly + from the window. “Though I daresay I shall meet them almost at once.” + </p> + <p> + Wilmot followed him into the hall. “Mr. Tom, where can they be?” + </p> + <p> + “Somewhere on the road between Bingley and our gates,” he said lightly. + “Don’t alarm Miss Sampson or my aunt, Wilmot. But send Ann round to the + stables to tell Jack to get my horse ready. If I do not see any sign of + them on the road, I will ride towards Bingley.” + </p> + <p> + He went off; and Rhoda, after watching him down the drive, crept upstairs + to listen at Miss Merivale’s door. But as she crossed the landing the door + opened, and Miss Merivale stepped out, a black lace shawl framing the + whiteness of her face. + </p> + <p> + “Rhoda, where has Tom gone?” she asked. “How still the house is! Haven’t + Rose and Miss Smythe come back?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” answered Rhoda lightly. “Bob’s shoe got loose, you know. They + were delayed at the village.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is nearly dark. Something must have happened. Let us go down to + the gate, Rhoda. I am frightened.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda could not persuade her to let her go alone, and they went together + down the drive. Tom had just ridden off; they could hear the sound of his + horse’s feet on the hilly road. But when that died away, a long period of + silence ensued. They went out of the gates and down the hill towards the + station, Miss Merivale clinging to Rhoda. + </p> + <p> + It was after what seemed hours to them both that they heard a horse + trotting rapidly towards them. Miss Merivale leant against the low stone + wall that divided the road on one side from the common. + </p> + <p> + “Rhoda, that is Tom. I could tell Black Beauty’s trot anywhere. Go on to + meet him, dear. I cannot go any farther.” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda went quickly on. It was Tom; he sprang off his horse on catching + sight of her. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Smythe has been badly hurt,” he said. “She is at the Rectory. Rose + is with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister is not hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “A bruise or two. They met that traction engine; Miss Smythe was driving, + and tried to make Bob pass it. The result was that Bob bolted down the + hill.” + </p> + <p> + They were walking quickly up the hill as he spoke. Rhoda told him that + Miss Merivale was waiting for them, and a couple of moments brought them + to her side. She refused to accept at first Tom’s emphatic assurances that + Rose had escaped with only a bruise or two, and begged him to take her to + the Rectory. Tom would not hear of her going. “Rose did not want to leave + Miss Smythe, or I would have brought her home, Aunt Lucy. She is perfectly + well. Rose is a plucky little girl She wasn’t half as frightened as you + are.” + </p> + <p> + It was not till they got back to the house and he had made Miss Merivale + drink the cup of tea Wilmot brought her, that he allowed her to know how + serious Pauline’s injuries were. + </p> + <p> + “They fear concussion of the brain,” he said. “I have promised Hartley to + telegraph for her friends. Can you give me their address?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale hesitated. “I am afraid she has no near relatives, poor + girl. I never heard her speak of any.” + </p> + <p> + “But she is continually calling for ‘Granny,’ Mrs. Hartley says. Her + grandmother ought to be here, if she has one. How could we find out?” + </p> + <p> + Rhoda, who had been sitting silent till then, now looked up and spoke. + “Her grandparents live at Leyton, Miss Merivale. They have a shop next + door to Aunt Mary’s brother. Mr. Smith is a grocer.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Merivale stared at her. “My dear, are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure,” Rhoda answered. “I saw her photograph when I took little + Hugh to his uncle’s, and they talked a great deal about her. Polly, they + call her. She writes to them constantly. They brought her up, and I expect + she is really very fond of them.” + </p> + <p> + “But—Rhoda, are you quite sure? Why has she never spoken of them? Do + you think she was ashamed of the shop? It must have been that.” + </p> + <p> + “She had no reason to be ashamed,” Rhoda answered quietly. “They are dear, + good people.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor girl, poor girl!” was all Miss Merivale could say; but Tom, who had + brought a telegraph form from the library, asked Rhoda to give him the + address. + </p> + <p> + “I will send this off at once,” he said, getting up. “She evidently wants + to have her grandmother with her now. She calls continually for her.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. CONCLUSION. + </h2> + <p> + When the twelve o’clock train stopped at the station next morning two + passengers got out—a little old lady dressed with Quaker-like + neatness, and a tall, grizzled, sunburnt man with a breezy, open-air look + about him. + </p> + <p> + Tom and the Rector were both waiting on the platform, and hurried up to + them. There was good news. + </p> + <p> + “Your granddaughter is better, Mrs. Smith,” the Rector said in his kind + voice. “But she may not know you. You must not be alarmed at that. The + doctor is much more hopeful this morning, and she calls continually for + you. We trust it may soothe her to have you near her.” + </p> + <p> + The tears were streaming fast over Mrs. Smith’s wrinkled face. “Polly + would never have no one but me to nurse her,” she said. “She was always + like that from a baby. I came off the first minute I could. Mr. Smith + wasn’t able to leave the shop, but Mr. Harding came with me. I’ve never + travelled alone in my life, and I’d have lost my way sure enough without + him. Mr. Harding’s from Australia, sir,” she added, looking at Tom, whom + she had identified as Mr. Merivale. “And he’d be glad to see Miss Sampson + if she’s still with Miss Merivale supposing ‘twas convenient.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going back to Woodcote now,” Tom said, looking at Mr. Harding. He + had started violently at the first mention of his name by Mrs. Smith, but + he spoke coolly enough. “Will you walk back with me? My aunt will be very + glad to see you. Miss Sampson is now at the Rectory, but I am going to + fetch her and my sister after lunch.” + </p> + <p> + The Rector’s trap was waiting outside, and Mrs. Smith was soon comfortably + settled in it. She was too simple and homely to be shy, and it was plain + both to the Rector and Tom that her distress at Pauline’s accident was + largely mingled with delight at the prospect of having her to nurse. She + spoke with eagerness to the Rector as they drove off of the time when she + could take Polly back with her to Leyton. + </p> + <p> + “She’s a good sort,” Mr. Harding said, as he and Tom turned to walk up the + hill. “I hope her Polly will soon be better. She is a governess, isn’t + she? Price told me she didn’t spend much time with the old folks.” + </p> + <p> + Tom did not feel called upon to answer this. He was determined to find out + at once how much Mr. Harding knew about Rhoda’s father and mother. “My + aunt and I were talking about you yesterday, Mr. Harding, but we had no + idea that you were in England.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harding turned his keen black eyes upon him. “No, I only landed last + week.” + </p> + <p> + “My aunt has some reason to believe that Miss Sampson is related to her,” + Tom hurried on. “You knew her father well, I believe?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harding’s answer was emphatic. “I should say I did, sir. Poor old Jack + and I were boys together. Why, he married a cousin of mine, as good as a + sister. And we should have been partners now if he hadn’t died. Some + people never understood Jack, and after Jenny died he got queerer than + ever; but he and I never had a cloud between us.” + </p> + <p> + Tom had stopped still in the road. The ground seemed to be swaying under + his feet, and something caught him in the throat so that he could scarcely + speak. “Was your cousin Rhoda’s mother?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; she was their only child. I knew she was safe and happy with the + M’Alisters, or I would have looked after her more. I’ve no chick nor child + of my own, and I mean Rhoda to have a big slice of what I’ve got to + leave.” + </p> + <p> + Tom did not catch the last words clearly. “My aunt’s sister married a Mr. + James Sampson,” he hurried to say. “Was he related to Miss Sampson’s + father?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that was Jim. He got lost in the bush, poor fellow. He had his girl + with him. Yes, he was Jack’s brother. They lived close together in + Melbourne. I fancy Rhoda was named after Jim’s little girl. They were + about the same age; but Jenny died when Rhoda was a year old, and Jack + left Melbourne for Adelaide.” + </p> + <p> + When Tom and Mr. Harding reached the house, he went hastily in search of + his aunt. He found her in her own room, her eyes dim with weeping. She + started up at the sight of his face. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Tom, what have you come to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + In a few rapid words he made her understand. “You see how your mistake + arose, Aunt Lucy. They both had the same name, Rhoda and Cousin Lydia’s + little girl. And Cousin Lydia must have given that locket to Rhoda’s + mother or to Rhoda’s father for her when they left Melbourne. But come + down and speak to Mr. Harding. There is no need for him to know the + mistake you fell into. Let us forget it, Aunt Lucy.” + </p> + <p> + At this, Miss Merivale’s tears began to flow afresh. “Oh, Tom, I have told + Rhoda.” + </p> + <p> + “You told her? Why did you? I thought we had decided to wait till I had + seen Thomson.” + </p> + <p> + “Tom, I could not help it. She was so miserable, poor child. She tried to + hide it, but she could not hide it from me. She thought she had offended + you. I do not know what she thought. How could you treat her so + differently? Do you think you will get her to forgive you?” + </p> + <p> + A glimmer of a smile showed itself in Miss Merivale’s eyes as she spoke. + But Tom could not smile yet. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you told her,” he said. “Did she believe you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. But she declared that nothing would induce her to claim her + rights if she had any. She said there were no proofs, and if she had them + she would not produce them. She spoke very strongly, Tom.” + </p> + <p> + Tom made no answer for a moment. “She has gone to the Rectory?” he said + then. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she was anxious to go. But she is going to walk home across the + downs. I think she was anxious to avoid you, Tom. No wonder! How could you + make her so unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + Tom did not point out that he had been far more unhappy, and that it was + all Miss Merivale’s fault. He looked at his aunt, giving her now back + smile for smile. “Aunt Lucy, will you go and fetch Rose?” he said. + </p> + <p> + Rose was delighted to see her aunt in the carriage when she ran out to + meet it. + </p> + <p> + “Rhoda did not think you would be able to come, Aunt Lucy. Were you very + much frightened when you heard about it? Poor Rhoda looks quite ill But + Pauline is really better. She has slept since her grandmother came. She + knew her directly, and has held her hand tight ever since. Poor old lady, + she is so fond of her.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish we could move her to Woodcote,” Miss Merivale said. “I must speak + to the doctor about it. I will go and see Mrs. Prance for a moment, Rosie + darling. And then we will go home. Oh, my darling, I am so thankful!” + </p> + <p> + She held Rose close to her, and kissed her once or twice before she let + her go. Till that moment she had hardly been able to realise her happiness + in having Rose safe. + </p> + <p> + Rose began to talk again of Pauline as they were driving home. “How + strange she could be so silent about her grandmother and yet be so fond of + her, Aunt Lucy! Or do you think that she is only fond of her when she + wants her? She was calling for her over and over again all last night.” + </p> + <p> + “I expect she is really fond of her, dear. As fond as she can be of + anybody. I don’t wish to speak harshly of her, Rose, and we will do all we + can for her. But you must not live with her again. Not because her + grandmother is Mrs. Smith,” added Miss Merivale quickly, afraid that Rose + might misunderstand her. “It isn’t that. Rhoda’s people are in the same + rank of life as the Smiths, yet Rhoda is a true gentlewoman.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lucy, I could not live with Pauline again,” Rose said earnestly. + “Besides, I want to live at home. I believe I shall loathe the thought of + a flat as long as I live. Pauline has effectually cured me of my desire to + live in one.” + </p> + <p> + “She and Mrs. Smith must come to stay with us as soon as she can be + moved,” Miss Merivale said. “Perhaps this illness will make her see things + differently, Rosie. Let us hope so.” + </p> + <p> + “Rhoda knew all the time,” Rose said, after a moment’s pause. “Poor + Pauline, how angry she would have been if she had guessed it! If I had + been Rhoda, I should have told her.” + </p> + <p> + “We should not have known where to telegraph if it had not been for Rhoda. + Her uncle—Mr. M’Alister’s brother, I mean—has a shop next door + to Mr. Price. It was he who told Mr. Harding that Rhoda was with us. I + fancy he was rather distressed to find that she was not with Mrs. + M’Alister. But I think I have convinced him that we have taken good care + of her.” + </p> + <p> + Tom and Mr. Harding were outside the porch together when the carriage drew + up. While Mr. Harding talked to Rose, Tom drew his aunt aside. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lucy, will you go up to Rhoda?” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + She gave him one shining look, and went quickly in. + </p> + <p> + Rhoda had heard the carriage enter, and was standing in the middle of the + room when Miss Merivale softly knocked and entered. There was a tremulous, + eager, anxious look in the girl’s face. Happy as she was, she could not be + quite happy till she was sure Miss Merivale was content. + </p> + <p> + But it was only a tiny shadow of doubt that clouded the brightness, and + when Miss Merivale clasped her close, and kissed her as fondly and + tenderly as she had kissed Rose a little while before, it nearly all fled + away. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, I am delighted,” Miss Merivale said, with happy tears in her + voice. “Tom has always been like a son to me, and now you will be my + daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are not sorry you asked me here?” Rhoda whispered. She felt she + must ask the question once. + </p> + <p> + “Ask Tom if he thinks I am sorry,” returned Miss Merivale, kissing her + again. And this was answer enough. Rhoda doubted no more. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Miss Merivale’s Mistake, by Mrs. Henry Clarke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS MERIVALE’S MISTAKE *** + +***** This file should be named 8151-h.htm or 8151-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/1/5/8151/ + + +Text file produced by Jonathan Ingram, Beth Trapaga, Charles Franks, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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