Uncle Jack
Mrs. Arderne made Catherine give a full account of her visit to Uncle
Ross, but wisely refrained from commenting upon the recital, knowing
that her companion would be distressed by any expression of her own firm
opinion that a fortune and a good position were to be had for even less
than the asking. The kindly-natured, worldly woman was quite excited
over Catherine's prospects, though she dared not speak of them. A rich,
lonely old uncle, with no relatives near him but a brother from whom he
was estranged, and that brother's invalid ward, a girl twelve years of
age,--where could Catherine be more sure to find a benevolent patron for
Brian North (if she was resolved to be faithful to her promise to him),
or to whom could she more reasonably look for help in her orphanhood and
poverty?
But Catherine was such an oddly unpractical, independent young woman
that she absolutely refused to speculate as to her chances! For this
reason, Mrs. Arderne felt positively bound to speculate for her, and to
persuade her to behave to Uncle Ross in a manner likely to please him.
Needless to say, therefore, she strongly disapproved of Catherine's
intention of visiting Uncle Jack on this, her first whole day at
Beverbridge.
'My dear child, you really ought not to go roaming about the country
after nightfall,' she remonstrated.
Ted and Toddie had just been sent back to the nursery, after the usual
game of play following upon dessert, and Catherine's cheeks were
flushed, her brown hair rumpled by exercise. She was now seated on a low
stool at Mrs. Arderne's side, smiling up at her confidentially.
'Why, I simply couldn't get lost on a starlight night,--besides, I have
a compass on my watch-chain! Do you think I relied upon the aid of
street-lamps and sign-posts in Australia? Uncle Jack lives quite near
us, in a bye-lane or street of the village. The postman looked so
pleased just now when I asked him about Colonel John Carmichael! "The
nicest gentleman I ever met, miss," he said. "Quite one of the old sort.
There's no telling the kindnesses he's shown to the poor; not so much
money-giving, for folk do say he isn't well off enough for himself, but
in other ways, that mean more, usually. Oh, that village postman is
quite a philosopher, I assure you!'
'You delayed Her Majesty's mail while you gossiped with him!'
Catherine laughed.
'I forgot that; he didn't seem in any hurry, and I'm sure he enjoyed
telling me about Uncle Jack.'
Mrs. Arderne reverted to the original subject.
'I am not at all certain that I shall let you out to-night, Miss
Carmichael.'
'You--you _don't_ mean that, do you?'
'Why should you annoy your Uncle Ross, who seems to have been very nice
to you? I am certain he will be vexed by your going at once to seek out
the brother with whom he has quarrelled.'
'But the right of the quarrel is all on Uncle Jack's side,' said the
girl simply. 'You will understand that when you have met him.'
'He persuaded Loring Carmichael to rebel against his elder uncle's
authority.'
'He only talked to him enthusiastically of the army; Uncle Jack, dear
old fellow, never could talk even to me for a quarter of an hour without
mentioning Sebastopol! He is such a thorough, devoted soldier, and he
always abhorred mere money-earning life-occupations!'
'The world would say that, in persuading his rich brother's adopted son
to rebel, he was probably actuated by money interests himself.'
Catherine was silent and very grave. This was her habitual manner when
disappointed or grieved.
Mrs. Arderne bent down to glance at the saddened young face, and
promptly repented for having banished its customary smile.
'There, I'm sorry I said that! No doubt Mr. Jack is a guileless hero;
but such persons are often tiresome! Go and find him this evening, if
you must, only don't perversely quarrel with the other uncle on his
account,--that other, who has certainly been very badly treated!'
So, after tea, Catherine set forth at a brisk pace through the village,
smiling to herself all the way so happily that many of the cottagers,
seeing her, smiled too for sympathy.
Yes, here was the lane, or street rather, of which the postman had told
her, leading out of the old market square. A small white house stood on
the right, planted sideways, within a high wall. There was no proper
entrance to it, only a narrow wooden door, painted green, and inscribed
with the name, Redan Cottage.
At the sight of that address (which, after the manner of country
dwellers, the postman had omitted to mention, having called the house
'Carmichael's'), Catherine's smile widened, and her heart began to beat
fast in her eagerness. Redan Cottage!--of course that was the name Uncle
Jack _would_ have chosen for his house!
No sooner had she rung the bell than the door opened as if by magic, and
a rosy-cheeked lad invited her to follow him across a tiny
stone-floored yard, under an ivied porch, and indoors.
'I am expected!' thought Catherine.
Indeed, the boy had not paused to ask her name or business, and now
preceded her into a little dark room, with the announcement:
'Miss Catherine's come at last, please, sir!'
Uncle Jack had been pacing the room--a short promenade! His niece had
just time to find out how overwhelmingly delighted she was to see him
once again, before he had put his arm round her shoulders and kissed her
cheek, as a father might have done.
'My darling! What, crying? Oh, it's a long while since we said good-bye
at Wattle Creek, isn't it? I couldn't tell you how often I've wanted my
niece since then. But I believed we should meet again some day, and I've
found out that the times chosen by the Great Commander are always best
and fittest, lassie.'
'Uncle Jack, why didn't you write oftener to me? Why did you let me
forget even a little bit how good you were to me, and how fond we were
of one another? When you call me "lassie" it all comes back to me. I
used to fancy that my father must have been like you.'
'An uncle isn't as much good as a father; still, he may be some use. And
you are poor now--your possessions have melted away! We won't call the
absent bad names, lassie, will we? but I always saw "rascal" written on
your stepfather's brow. He couldn't stand fire properly, though he ought
to have been used to it out there. I remember once I held my sword to
his throat, too--to show him how poor Northcote died; and he winced
under it. Still, I won't blame him, since we are the gainers by his
wrong-doing, Agatha and I.'
'Gainers? How is that?'
'Because you are coming home, my dear, to live with us. Sit there in
the basket-chair--it was bought for you this morning, for this room was
rather short of chairs--and good old Harriet made the cushions. I verily
believe she went without her dinner that she might get them finished.
Ah, you kept us waiting a long time, lassie! Robert has been in the yard
nearly all day, he was so anxious not to keep you on the doorstep.'
Catherine sat down in the chair, and could not find words to answer with
all at once. Home! Uncle Jack had taken her consent to his invitation
for granted! _Home!_ And even the postman knew that he 'wasn't well
enough off for himself'! Oh, the dear, true-hearted, generous old man!
And what could she say? She could not bear to hurt his feelings, yet she
must not be a burden upon him. Tears were in her eyes, and it was with
the utmost difficulty that she steadied her voice to thank him.
'Gratitude? Nonsense, my dear (if I may use such a word to a lady).
Think of the joy your presence will be to us--Agatha, myself, old
Harriet, and even Robert. I haven't been able to resist talking about
you to the servants, and they have been very curious to see you; you
would have laughed at Harriet's endeavour to get a cake made ready to
greet you. She is not the typical, cross housekeeper, resenting
interference. Indeed, she told me to-day that we all need some one to
smarten us up, and that you, "being a travelled young lady," would be
sure to do it!'
In this way did Colonel Jack talk on, softly patting Catherine's hand,
and trying to give her time to control her evident emotion.
She understood this, and appreciated it. Soon her eyes began to smile
through her tears, and she cried:
'You _know_ I am grateful, so I need not speak any more thanks to you;
but oh, Uncle Jack, dear, until you offered me a home I had not realized
the loneliness of being without one. Mrs. Arderne has always been so
kind to me (you remember her, don't you?) that I've never been sorry for
myself while with her, and Uncle Ross's pity this morning only made me
feel more independently cheerful!'
'So I've taught you to be lonely, lassie?'
'No; you first made me long for a home, and then you gave me one! I
cannot come to live in it altogether, for I must earn my living--not be
an idle creature, you know; but Redan Cottage is "home" for me from
henceforth--"home," to love, to remember, to dream of, to visit, to
spend my holidays in!'
Uncle Jack looked troubled.
'Catherine, you are not--what is commonly called "an advanced woman,"
are you? You are not of opinion that women should do all the work in the
world?'
She laughed.
'No, indeed! but a penniless young woman certainly should support
herself, if she is able to do so. Dearest of uncles, don't you think
that, by coming "home" to subsist upon the income which keeps up this
establishment, I should be defrauding Agatha, if not you?'
'The poor child would receive benefits that no money could buy her: your
love and care--and counsel, especially counsel.'
'Whose counsel can be better than yours?'
There was a shake of the white head.
'I'm a beginner in Christianity, Catherine,' said the colonel
thoughtfully. 'In my youth I wasn't taught much about God, and then my
ambitions and enthusiasm for the service left me no time, so I imagined,
for other than military studies. Naturally, when my comrades were
falling around me, I prayed, for them and for myself, if I were about to
fall too; still, I knew next to nothing of the Lord whose help I asked.
Lately I _have_ been studying the Bible, and I'm honestly ashamed of my
purposeless past. Every time I pray I make the best excuse I can to the
Creator, by assuring Him that had I been so fortunate as to know Him
earlier, I would have served Him as loyally as, thanks be to Him, I have
always served my Queen.'
Catherine's smile was very tender as she looked at the colonel's
reverential face.
'God must quite understand you!'
'Do you think so? You used to talk of Him in the old days, I recollect,
but I regarded your piety as a mere part of a gentle girl's
sentiments--as a sort of beautiful romance unsuitable for men to share.
Dear, what a fool I was, Catherine (if you will excuse the strong
expression)!'
'You are God's own soldier now, dear uncle. I am glad indeed. Nothing is
equal to the peace of serving Him who died for us.'
'Ah, what a soldier He was!--the Great Commander is the title I like
best to give Him. You will teach me all you know about Him, will you
not, my child?'
Catherine's fingers returned the pressure of his hand.
'We will teach each other, Uncle Jack. And even when we are absent one
from another we shall know that we are both looking in the same
direction, towards the glory of the Prince of Peace and the King of
Battles.'
'If you _must_ earn your living, lassie!'
'It seems to be a clear duty. I will never stay away from home out of
pride, or because I do not like to take favours from you, you may be
quite sure of that. And if Brian could only find employment in this
neighbourhood, oh, how glad I should be! He is not very strong, his
health would be so much better in the country, and he would have quiet
hours in which to write.... Oh, I forget--you don't know about Brian
yet!'
'Your bright face tells your secret, lassie. Tell me you love him, and
that he loves you with all his heart, and then I shall be quite
satisfied!'
'Yes, to both those questions! He is a poor, hard-working journalist,
earning a bare livelihood for himself.'
'That doesn't matter; his love will give him courage to work on for you,
and God will reward him some day!'
'He does not call God "Father" yet; his mind is only just groping nearer
to the Light; his heart has not yet been taken captive by the Lord.'
'You will teach him, as I want to be taught. God will help you.'
'Uncle Jack, you are the dearest consoler and encourager possible! Brian
shall love you almost as well as I do! He shall come to see you very,
very soon! Uncle Ross wants to see him too; isn't it strange?'
'Surely not strange, lassie. He would naturally be interested. If my
brother offers you a home with him--what then? You will be standing in
your own light if you refuse. He is a rich man; Carm Hall is more fitted
than this cottage to be your shelter. You mustn't allow any--any
affection for me to--to influence you in this matter.'
Yet, bravely though the colonel was looking this possibility in the
face, nobly though he was anxious for Catherine's welfare rather than
for his own pleasure, the contemplation of his vision of what might be,
cast a shadow into his eyes. Watching him, Catherine learned how
sincerely he wanted her.
Though a most unworldly young woman (as Mrs. Arderne had often told
her), she could not help understanding that she had made a choice which
most people would blame and ridicule. She had promised always to regard
Redan Cottage as home. Though she honestly believed that Uncle Ross
would keep to his intention of leaving his wealth to be divided among
charities, she could not deny that he might offer her, and even her
husband, a home during his lifetime--possibly a small portion of his
fortune might be set aside for them.
Yet, as she had said, she believed 'the right of the quarrel to be on
Uncle Jack's side,' and never could she deny this belief.
The result of her short reflection was that she said happily, 'I have
got a home now, and I prefer it to any other at present existing in all
the world, dear colonel!'
'Then my duty is done! I need never again try to persuade you to desert
me, lassie! And if Brian is vexed with me----'
'But he won't be.'
'No doubt you can answer for him, so I won't trouble over any
supposition! Ross does not need you, as Agatha does. He is a good man,
in his own way; Heaven forbid I should judge him harshly, but he would
not be grateful for being taught religion.'
'My choice is made, uncle dear, and you may be sure I shall never, never
regret it!'
'God bless you, lassie!'
The old gentleman bent his lips to his niece's hand, and they were both
silent for a minute or two, gazing into the fire. Then he said:
'I must take you to Agatha now; the poor little maid will be wearying
for you.'
So Catherine was led out of the tiny parlour, across the hall of this
doll's house of a cottage, past the open door of the kitchen, where old
Harriet and Robert were waiting to catch a glimpse of her as she passed,
and into another room as wee as the parlour, where bright pictures, pink
curtains and upholstery generally, and the presence of flowers,
betokened the colonel's fatherly care for his adopted ward.