An Unexpected Visitor
ANGEL'S life was a very monotonous one. She spent most of her days
alone whilst her brother was at school, and her father was occupied
in his studio. Sometimes one of her father's artist friends would
pause at the door of the sitting-room to inquire if Mr. Willis was
at home; but no one ever stayed to exchange more than a few sentences
with her, and she spent her time in reading, or dreaming, or looking
out of the window on the miles of roofs stretching before her eyes
when there was no mending for her father or brother to be done.
Occasionally Mrs. Steer took pity on the lonely child, and asked her
to accompany her when she went out to do her shopping; and, on
Saturday afternoons she now and then had a stroll with her
brother; but Gerald usually spent his half-holidays with his
school-friends, so that he had not much time to devote to his sister.
Angel liked Sunday the best day of the week, because she and Gerald
always went to church with their father in the morning, and the
studio was shut up altogether. Mr. Willis was very fond of his
children, and thoroughly enjoyed the Sundays spent in their company,
when he listened to Gerald's school experiences with great interest
and amusement; but it never occurred to him to question his little
daughter as to the way in which she spent her time, or to regret her
neglected education and lack of congenial companions.
One cold afternoon towards the end of November, Angel, who had been
on a shopping expedition with Mrs. Steer, returned to find her father
had gone out, leaving a message to the effect that she must not wait
tea for him. The little girl removed her out-door garments, and sat
down with a book for company in the sitting-room to wait till her
brother should come home from school. The book did not prove a very
interesting one, so that when presently she heard a disturbance
downstairs, she rose quickly, and, opening the door, stood on the
threshold listening.
Mrs. Steer was apparently protesting against some one's entering the
house, and was evidently both alarmed and angry. Actuated by
curiosity, Angel slipped noiselessly downstairs till she reached the
last flight, when she stopped short, keenly interested in the scene
which met her gaze.
Mrs. Steer, with the maid-of-all-work of the establishment at her
elbow, stood confronting a big, stout, red-faced man, who was
standing by several enormous trunks, which he had evidently assisted
the cabman to bring into the house, for he was mopping his brow with
a red silk handkerchief, and appeared in a state of breathlessness.
"I never knew anything to equal this!" Mrs. Steer cried angrily,
her eyes flashing with indignation. "To come into a respectable house
without so much as asking leave, and take possession of the place!
The impudence of it!"
"My good woman," said the stranger in a deep, pleasant voice,
"I don't think I've made a mistake, have I? Mr. Willis lives here,
doesn't he?"
"He does," Mrs. Steer allowed, "but—"
"I'm all right then! I know I shall be welcome! Pray tell your
master—"
"My master!" Mrs. Steer interposed sharply. "What do you mean? This
is not Mr. Willis' house. It's mine! I'm mistress here, and
Mr. Willis and his children are my lodgers."
"Oh!" exclaimed the stranger. "Now I begin to understand the meaning
of your indignation. I imagined this was my nephew's house—Mr. Willis
is my nephew, by the way. My name is Bailey; I am—"
He paused abruptly, catching sight of the little girl standing on the
stairs. Mrs. Steer followed his glance, and beckoned to Angel, who
immediately came down and advanced towards the new-comer, her usually
pale cheeks flushed with excitement.
"Did you want my father?" she asked. "He is out now, but he will be
home before long. Is father really your nephew?"
"Yes, if you are John Willis' daughter," the big man replied.
He caught her in his arms as he spoke, and kissed her heartily. "Why,
my dear little girl," he cried, "you must be my great niece Angelica!
I'm your Uncle Edward, just come home from Australia."
"Oh!" exclaimed Angel, rather breathlessly. "Are you really Uncle
Edward? Oh, I know all about you! I've read your letters to father
often! How very, very glad he will be to see you! But—what can I do?
This is not our house—we only lodge here. Perhaps you had better come
upstairs to our sitting-room and wait till father comes."
"Perhaps that would be the best plan," he replied. Then he glanced
at his luggage, and from it to the landlady. "What can I do about
it?" he inquired.
"It can remain where it is till Mr. Willis returns," Mrs. Steer
responded, speaking a trifle more graciously than she had hitherto
done. "I suppose it is all right if you are indeed Mr. Willis' uncle.
And if you care to stay here, there's a big bedroom unoccupied
at present which you might like to take."
The stranger nodded; then turned and followed Angel, who was leading
the way upstairs. On entering the sitting-room, he glanced around him
quickly ere he turned his attention to his companion.
"Do you know you are taking me on faith, my dear?" he asked, as he
seated himself in the easy chair, by the fireplace, which she offered
him, and scanned her face with smiling, kindly eyes.
"On faith?" Angel echoed. "But I know all about you, I do indeed!
I have often heard father talk of Uncle Edward! You wanted him to go
to Australia with you when he was a boy, didn't you?"
"Yes; but he preferred painting to sheep-farming!"
"Father loves painting. He is very clever! His pictures are
beautiful."
The stranger allowed his glance to travel quickly around the room
once more, after which he said musingly in a low tone, as though
thinking aloud—
"He has not made his fortune?"
"No!" the little girl cried, "but he will some day; Mother used
to say—Oh, did you know mother?"
"No, my dear, I never saw her. Are you like her in appearance?
I think you must be, for you do not resemble your father in the
least."
"I am like mother, I believe," Angel replied, a smile brightening
her face. "I want to be like her. She was so sweet and good."
"Ah! Now, suppose you tell me about her."
Angel glanced doubtfully at the big man in the easy chair, but
meeting an encouraging look in return, she complied.
"Things were so different before she died," she said confidentially;
"we had a little house to ourselves, and she used to work so hard
to keep everything nice and comfortable, and we were all so happy,
though we were not any richer then than we are now. Then she fell
ill—and died!" Angel drew a deep breath that sounded very like a sob.
"Afterwards we came here and took these lodgings," she continued;
"father has a studio at the top of the house, and he is painting
a beautiful picture. He will show it to you to-morrow."
"What will he do with it? Sell it, I suppose?"
"Yes; he will send it to the Royal Academy for people to look at;
I expect it will make a lot of money. I hope so, because there are
so many things we want money for."
He smiled at her serious face; then looked thoughtfully into the
fire. She watched him with great interest, and told herself
she thought she would like him.
"Well, am I to be trusted?" he asked at length, turning to her
quickly.
"Yes, I think so," she responded, blushing, and smiling.
"I hope so," he said gravely. "Who comes now?" he inquired
as footsteps were heard outside the door. "Your father?"
"No—Gerald. Oh, Gerald, come here!" she cried, as her brother entered
the room, and stopped short in great astonishment at sight of the
stranger. "This is Uncle Edward, just come home from Australia!"
At first the boy was too surprised to say much, but as a rule he was
not diffident, and soon he and Mr. Bailey were in the midst of an
animated conversation.
Presently Mrs. Steer herself appeared with the tea-tray. She looked
a little suspiciously at the visitor in the easy chair; but her face
cleared as she listened to his pleasant voice; and when he laughed,
she could not help smiling, for there was something so genial and
hearty in the cheery sound.
Angel presided at the tea-table, and proved a good hostess, though
she felt shy at first; but it was not very long before she was at her
ease, and joining in the conversation without the slightest
restraint. And all the while she was thinking how pleased her father
would be when he returned home and found who had arrived in his
absence. She had heard many stories of Uncle Edward—how kind he had
been to her father when the latter had been a boy, and how he had
wanted to give him a start in life in that far-off land across the
seas.
The meal was nearly finished when Angel's sharp ears caught the sound
of her father's familiar footsteps on the stairs; and a few seconds
later he came into the room, and advanced towards the visitor with
outstretched hands.
"Uncle Edward!" he cried joyfully. "How good it is to see you once
more! Why did you not write to let me know you were coming?"
"I wanted to take you by surprise," Mr. Bailey replied, as he and his
nephew shook hands heartily. "Why, John, you don't look much older
than when I saw you last!"
"I cannot say the same of you," Mr. Willis said, "for you have grown
stout, Uncle Edward."
"Oh, father!" exclaimed Angel disappointedly, "I believe you knew
who was here when you came into the room."
"I did," he acknowledged. "I saw Mrs. Steer downstairs and she bade
me hurry to see if you were entertaining an impostor or not.
Uncle Edward, we would have given you a better welcome if we had
known you were coming."
"I have been well entertained," Mr. Bailey declared, "and I have made
a most excellent meal. Your children and I are friends already, John;
Your daughter, I find, is the soul of hospitality!"
Angel, who was looking wonderfully animated, smiled as she met her
father's eyes, whilst Mr. Bailey explained how his sudden arrival
had met with Mrs. Steer's distinct disapproval.
"It never occurred to me that you lived in lodgings," he said, "so I
dare say your landlady had every right to be angry when I invaded
her premises!"
"I gave up housekeeping when my poor wife died," Mr. Willis remarked,
with a sigh.
"Yes, yes," Mr. Bailey assented, "I understand. I think your landlady
said something about having a bedroom to let. I had better interview
her again—that is, if you'll allow me a share of your sitting-room,
Angelica?"
"Oh yes! That will be nice, won't it, father? But you must please
call me Angel—every one does. Angelica sounds so stiff and proper."
"Very well," Mr. Bailey agreed, "Angel is an exceedingly pretty name,
in my opinion."
"We shall be delighted to have you for our guest, Uncle Edward,"
Mr. Willis said, a trifle dubiously; "but—you see what the place
is like. Will you be comfortable here?"
"Far more comfortable than I should be at a grand hotel in the midst
of strangers. Perhaps you think that because I'm an old bachelor
I must be fidgety? Let me assure you I am not."
"You are greatly altered if you are! No, I did not think that,"
Mr. Willis returned. "Stay with us by all means, if you can make
yourself happy here. Your company will be a real pleasure to me, and
the children too."
"I have come back to England to make a home," Mr. Bailey remarked,
looking thoughtful, "but I do not think it will be in London. Still,
since you are willing, I will gladly remain here as your guest for
the time."
Thus it was arranged. Mrs. Steer was glad to let the unoccupied
bedroom, and her manner towards the stranger thawed when she found
he was actually the person he professed to be; he further raised
himself in her opinion when he stoutly refused to allow her and her
maid-of-all-work to convey his luggage upstairs, but carried each box
to his bedroom upon his own broad shoulders, declining even his
nephew's help. Gerald was so taken up with their visitor that he
forgot to learn his lessons till it was nearly bedtime, and then had
to call Angel to his assistance. She wanted to listen to the
conversation between her father and uncle, but, as usual, she lent
her help to her brother when requested to do so, and laboriously
worked his sums for him whilst he wrote out his French translation.
By the time the lessons were finished and the books put away, it was
nine o'clock, the hour at which the children generally went to bed.
"Good-night, Angel," Mr. Bailey said, as the little girl offered him
her hand, and said "Good-night." "I shall not soon forget how you
welcomed me this afternoon. God bless you, child!"
She looked at him seriously, surprised at the solemnity of his tone;
but he was turning his attention to Gerald, and after kissing her
father, she went away quietly to her own room.
Before she undressed for the night, she opened the window and
listened to the roar of the great city, then lifted her eyes to the
sky, where the stars were sparkling brightly, for the night was
wonderfully clear. Her thoughts were all of the unexpected visitor,
and she wondered if she would see much of him. She believed she would
like him, for he possessed a countenance which inspired a feeling
of trust. What would he think when he discovered their poverty?
Was he rich himself? If so, she did not suppose he would remain
with them very long.
The night air was chill, so presently she shut the window and
commenced to undress. As she did so, she could not help wondering
if Uncle Edward had noticed the shabbiness of her black serge gown;
and she hoped, if he had, he would not blame her father for allowing
her to wear such a dowdy garment, as Mrs. Steer had once done. The
thought troubled her that any one should blame her father, who would
willingly have supplied her slightest want if he had only had the
money to do so. When she knelt down to say her prayers, however,
all uneasy thoughts fled from her mind, for her mother had taught her
from her earliest days, when she could only lisp in baby fashion,
to carry her cares to God; and had impressed upon her that nothing
was of too trifling a nature to lay before her Father in Heaven.
The troubles she could not speak to human ears were poured out to Him
who never fails to understand and administer to our needs, so that
when Angel rose from her knees her mind was at ease; and her last
waking thought was one of gladness for her father's sake, because she
knew he loved his uncle well, that Mr. Bailey had come to their home.