"Mamma, do you think he will ever forgive me? Mamma, do you know that
he could scarcely have seemed more _terribly_ angry if--if--I had done
it on purpose to hurt the Whytes, and you _know_ it wasn't that I love
them too much; and even if I didn't, I _couldn't_ be as bad as that?"
"I know, dear," said mamma. "But papa has very strong feelings about
courtesy to strangers; above all to the old and poor--and that strange
old Mrs Fetherston _seemed_ poor. And then, too, the consequences are
so _very_ serious to the Whytes. Papa said to me he was afraid of
judging your fault too much by the consequences; that was partly why he
sent you home alone, and he is not sorry to be away for a day or two to
think things over. I may tell you Connie," she went on, "that bright
and sweet-tempered, almost _perfect_ as he seems to us, papa has
naturally a very hot and violent temper. You have never seen it; he has
learnt to control it so perfectly; but yesterday he was afraid of saying
_too_ much to you; that was partly why he went away."
"I understand," I said, "though after all I think I deserved everything
any one could have said--mamma," I added, "perhaps it's from papa I get
_my_ temper: it's certainly not from you. And people generally think
I'm good-tempered, just as they do him. But he _is_ good-tempered,
because he has mastered himself, and I'm only not often bad-tempered,
because I generally manage to get my own way, and am very seldom
crossed!"
Mamma smiled. She was glad to see me really thinking seriously.
"Mamma," I said, "even if that--that horrid old woman does leave
everything to the other one--to Major Whyte,"--mamma had explained it
all to me the evening before--"it couldn't matter so very much, would
it? For he's so fond of them all--could he not make it up to them?"
"They fear he would be bound down by her will to do nothing for his
cousins," said mamma. "The old lady, once she has taken a thing in her
head, seems very vindictive. Besides, Captain Whyte is a proud man, he
has always hoped his aunt would leave him something--it would be hard
for him to take it as a gift, almost like a charity, from his cousin.
And what can they do for the present? They had little enough before;
but now they must be terribly poor. And the old lady may live many
years. The worst of all would be if Major Whyte died before her,
without her being reconciled to his cousins." This made it all clear
enough to me--only too clear. I could think of nothing else. I got up
and dressed, for I was not ill. I was only feeling very miserable and
rather shaky with crying so. Mamma had very kindly sent to Miss Wade to
tell her not to come, which was a comfort. I was very glad to see no
one but mamma, even though I longed for papa. I wanted so to consult
him, and see if nothing could be done.
It was a very rainy day; it went on steadily till late in the afternoon.
It was one of those days which seem as if the sun had not risen.
I could not settle to anything. I tried to work and read, but it was no
use. Then I began a letter to Evey; I did so want to let them know how
miserably sorry I was, but the words would not come, and I gave it up.
"It would only seem a mockery," I said to myself; "I don't suppose they
want to be reminded of me at all," and I got up and stood drearily by
the window watching the plash of the rain as it fell into the puddles of
the gravel walk. Suddenly a feeble ray of light caught my eyes--where
was it coming from? I looked up. Yes, there, over where the sun would
soon be setting there was a little break in the clouds; some thin, cold,
watery yellow was peeping out, and even as I gazed it reddened and
warmed a little.
And at that moment an idea struck me, which, the more I reflected on it,
the more my judgment approved of. I stood there some minutes thinking
intently. Then I flew into the library where mamma was, I knew, tidying
some of papa's books that afternoon.
She had finished and was standing by the fire.
"Mamma dear," I said, "I have thought of something;" and I went on
rapidly to tell her what had come into my mind. She listened eagerly,
but her face flushed and she looked half-frightened.
"We must wait till papa comes home and see what he says," she replied.