"YOU KNOW THIS IS A GREAT SECRET."
"'And had he friends?' 'One friend perhaps,' said he,
'And for the rest, I pray you let it be.'"--_Jean Ingelow._
Queenie was terribly restless during the next few days. While the
important negotiation was impending she held aloof as much as
possible from her friends at Church-Stile House. She could scarcely
look Garth in the face when she met him in the village, so heavily
did her secret weigh upon her. She had been once to see Langley, and
had sat with her some time; but their talk had languished, and at
last degenerated into silence. Langley had been too sad and
heavy-hearted to make any pretence of cheerfulness, and Queenie had
been so oppressed with secret consciousness that she had failed in
outward manifestations of sympathy.
"If talk would only mend matters you would have no reason to complain
of my silence," Langley said, by way of excuse for her
downheartedness, when Queenie rose to take leave.
"One cannot always talk; I wish I were only as patient as you," had
been Queenie's reply. But she breathed more freely when she had
crossed the little bridge and was walking down the lane in the grey,
waning light.
But Cathy came to the cottage, and was so low-spirited, and drew such
dismal pictures of the future, that Emmie, who was weakly and
tender-hearted, burst out crying, and for a long time refused to be
comforted.
"Oh, Queen, if we were but rich!" sobbed the poor child, "how nice it
would be to help them. I can't bear to think of Langley and Cathy
working as you used to work at Granite Lodge, and being hungry and
cold and miserable. Cathy might come and live here, there is plenty
of room."
"Yes, yes, my sweet," returned Cathy, drying her eyes and kissing her
hurriedly, "I will promise to come to you if I am starving; but I am
going to nurse the sick people in the great London Hospital, you
know, and nurses are sure to get plenty to eat," and the warm-hearted
girl changed the subject, and began a ludicrous narration of Ted's
sayings and doings during the last few days.
But Emmie could not forget her friends' troubles; she brooded over
them silently, and at last made a little pilgrimage on her own
account.
Garth, sitting moody and listless in his study, was surprised by a
feeble tap, and then by the entrance of the child in her little
scarlet hood.
"Why, Emmie, my dear," he said kindly, "has your sister brought you
over to see us? surely you have not come alone this cold evening."
"Queenie and Cathy are talking so busily that they will not miss me;
they think I am with Patience. I did not mind the cold a bit; I came
all by myself, because I wanted to see you, Mr. Garth."
"To see me!" in a surprised tone, for, in spite of their friendship,
Emmie had never before distinguished him in this way; her visits had
always been to Langley. "Well, I am highly honored, and must make
much of my visitor. Will this thing untie?" touching the red hood.
But Emmie took no notice of his question; she stood beside him with
her large blue eyes fixed gravely on his face, and then she put up
her hand and stroked his cheek, but very gently and timidly.
"Poor Mr. Garth, I am so sorry for you."
"Why, my dear?" But he was touched in spite of himself, the little
thin hand spoke so eloquently.
"Because you have lost all your money, and are so dreadfully unhappy.
Was there a great deal, Mr. Garth?"
"Well, it was a tolerably large sum, at least for me," he replied
gravely.
"And God has taken it away from you; that is very sad, is it not? I
don't like to think of you being poor, it makes me feel bad all over."
"Why, Emmie, I never expected you to feel it like this! You must not
trouble your dear little head about my affairs."
"I am sorry, but not half so sorry as Queenie is, I know, though she
says so little about it. She never talks now, at least hardly at
all, and she has not told me stories for ever so long; but she sits
and looks at the fire, and sometimes her eyes are full of tears,
though she thinks I do not see them."
He flushed at this, and a look of pain crossed his face.
"She may have troubles of her own; she will not like you to tell me
this," he began in an embarrassed tone; but Emmie was too much
engrossed with her subject to heed him.
"Shall you be very poor?" she persisted; "shall you be obliged to
leave this old house, where you and Langley were born, and go and
live in a poky little place in Warstdale, as Cathy says?"
"Cathy knows nothing about it; she ought not to tell you such
things," rather quickly. "Of course we must leave this house, and of
course we shall have to work; but we are young, and that will not
hurt us. Come, come, things are not as bad as you and Cathy make
them out; put all these sad thoughts out of your head. How could
they have talked so before the child?" he muttered to himself.
But Emmie was not so easily comforted. She stood silently by Garth a
minute, and then her eyes filled, and two large tears coursed slowly
down her cheeks.
"Now, Emmie, don't be silly; I can't have you crying over this!" but
his tone was kind; and as he spoke he drew the child gently to him.
"I can't help it," she whispered. "Cathy says you eat nothing, and
that you are getting so thin and ill; and that frightens Queenie, and
makes her look grave."
"Why, this is too absurd!" he began, and then his tone changed. The
child would make herself ill if she went on like this. "Do you think
you could make me some tea and some hot buttered toast if I were to
promise to eat it? Now I think about it I am rather faint, and hot
buttered toast is a favorite luxury of mine. Langley will find you
the toasting-fork and things if you go and ask her."
In a moment Emmie's tears were dried by magic, and the little red
hood laid aside. When, half-an-hour afterwards, Queenie entered the
house in some alarm to know what had become of Emmie, she found a
little scene that surprised her.
Garth and Emmie were seated with a little round table between them; a
choice pile of buttered toast, done to a nicety, lay on the young
man's plate. Emmie's face was flushed with excitement and heat, her
hands were slightly blackened.
"He has promised to eat all that!" she cried out, pointing with the
teapot in the direction of Garth's plate; "and he says he feels
better already. I have made the tea so strong, just as he likes it.
Langley let me go to the caddy myself!"
Garth rose with a droll expression and shook hands with Queenie.
"Emmie has played truant, I am afraid. She has got it into her head
that I am starving myself to death as the best way of escaping my
difficulties. I have had to eat and drink before her to dissipate
the unpleasant idea."
"Oh, Emmie! how could you think of running away like this?" exclaimed
her sister, fondly pressing the child's fair head between her hands;
but she said very little to either of them after that. In the months
to come that little scene often recurred to her, and the strange,
embarrassed look on Garth's face as she entered.
More than a week had elapsed since the two conspirators had met in
the little parlor at Brierwood Cottage. Queenie was just beginning
to feel that the suspense was becoming terrible, when one night, as
she was sitting alone after Emmie had gone to bed, she heard Mr.
Logan's voice in the entry, and in another moment he came in shaking
the raindrops off him.
"Well," he said, beaming on her through his spectacles, "I have not
kept you too long waiting, have I? Of course you have been very
anxious, but a delicate matter like this required plenty of time and
management."
"Oh, yes, I know," she replied hastily; "but, all the same, my
suspense has been dreadful. Tell me quickly, Mr. Logan. Has he
taken it?"
"He has."
"Oh, thank heaven!" she exclaimed, and turned away lest the relief
and joy should be too legibly written on her face.
"It has been a difficult job," he went on, sitting down and spreading
his white, finely-shaped hands over the blaze. "At one time I feared
whether I could carry it through. He was so hard to manage; but I
timed it well, and spoke before Miss Clayton. I knew I could count
on her common-sense to help me."
"But how did you begin? Did you say the words I put into your mouth?
Tell me all about it, please," and Queenie tried to compose her
glowing face.
"I can hardly remember my words. I said very little at first. I
told Garth that a sum of money had lately come into my possession,
and was lying idle at the Carlisle Bank; that it was there, and that
I intended to make no use of it; and I entreated him, for his
sisters' sake, to lay aside his pride and accept the loan offered to
him."
"Well?"
"Well, he was very difficult at first. He seemed cut up, poor
fellow, and very low over the whole business. He would have it that
it was dishonest to help himself to another man's money unless he
could see his way clear to repay it in a fair time; that his
embarrassment was such that, even with this help, it might be two or
three years before he could perfectly right himself; that he had had
other losses lately; and that perhaps the wisest course would be to
throw up the Works and take a manager's place himself. 'We should
not starve on a hundred and fifty a-year, and Ted would earn
something,' he said more than once."
"Of course you did not give in to him?"
"No; I grew tremendously eloquent, and Langley helped me. I talked
myself hoarse for nearly two hours before I could move him. I hurled
all sorts of thunders at him. I anathematized the Clayton pride as
an unholy thing. I told him that it was a grievous sin against
charity to refuse the help of a friendly hand when it was stretched
out to save him. What would have been thought of the conduct of the
poor traveller if he had refused the assistance of the good
Samaritan; if he had lain there in his obstinacy, declaring that no
such bindings up of oil and wine should be his?"
"Ah, you had him there."
"Well, he did look a little uneasy at that; and then I plied him with
arguments. Did he think it a manly thing to let his sisters go out
into the world and work because he could not do as other men did
under such circumstances, and bend that pride of his? I noticed he
winced at that. And then I upbraided him with his want of
friendship. What did Charlotte and I want with the money? we had
sufficient for our simple needs. Buy books with it? for he actually
suggested that in a feeble sort of way. Did he think we were such
lukewarm Christians that we should lay it out in luxuries while our
dearest friends were on the brink of ruin?"
"I can well imagine your eloquence."
"It was worse than preaching half-a-dozen sermons. I was just
getting weary and out of breath when Langley came to my rescue, and
begged him, with tears in her eyes, not to grieve me; and then
between us we talked him into a better and more hopeful state of
mind."
"And he consented to accept it at last?"
"Yes; he is to draw two hundred and fifty to-morrow to meet some
bills that are pressing upon him, and next week he is to take three
hundred more, that will put him straight; but he will require the
remainder for current expenses. It appears there will be little or
no profit coming in from the Works for the next six months. His
great fear is that he may not be able to repay me for two or three
years."
"What does that matter?" exclaimed the girl, joyfully. "Oh, Mr.
Logan, how shall I thank you for doing what you have done to-night?
How did he look? and what did Langley say to you?"
"Well, he looked very pale, poor fellow; but I think on the whole he
is very grateful and relieved. I know he wrung my hand nearly off
when I took my leave. I felt such a consummate hypocrite when Miss
Clayton burst into tears, and thanked me for saving her brother. I
wonder what they would say if they knew the truth!"
"Hush! we will not say anything about that. Have you come straight
from Church-Stile House? does Miss Cosie know yet?"
"No; but I must tell her directly I get home. By-the-bye, where is
Miss Catherine, I missed her to-night?"
"She is spending the evening with Mrs. Stewart. Dr. Stewart has gone
over to Karldale for the night. Mrs. Chester is very ill, and there
is to be a consultation."
"Her days are numbered, poor soul, at least I greatly fear so," he
returned very gravely, and soon afterwards he took his leave.
Queenie could scarcely compose herself to sleep that night, her
relief was so intense; but in the morning the old fear obtruded
itself. Could they rely with any degree of safety on Miss Cosie?
"Solomon tells us, that in the multitude of counsellors there is
wisdom," she thought to herself; "but I do not think it holds good in
the case of a dear fussy little old maid like Miss Cosie." And then
she groaned in spirit, and finally decided to go then and there to
the vicarage, and threaten that harmless old maiden with all sorts of
pains and penalties if she did not keep that busy tongue of hers in
order.
She found her in an old wooden out-house, that went by the name of
the dairy, busily skimming a great bowl of yellow cream, with the
inevitable grey shawl pinned round her, and a little drawn grey hood
tied over her curls.
When she caught sight of her visitor she dropped her spoon, and came
clattering over the brick floor in her little clogs.
"Dear, dear, it is never you, Miss Marriott! and not a wink of sleep
have I got all night with thinking of you and those poor creatures at
Church-Stile House; but there, there, I must not upset you," went on
the little woman breathlessly, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss her.
"Dear Miss Cosie, I knew how glad you would be."
"Glad! I couldn't coin the word that would express my feeling. I
seem as though I were made of india-rubber, I feel so drawn out and
expanded with sheer happiness. It is a mountain that is lifted off
me and Christopher, that's what it is," continued the soft-hearted
little creature, wiping her eyes, and dimpling all over her round
bright face. "Dear, dear, to think that you are a rich woman, and
all the rest of it."
"Now, Miss Cosie, remember this is a great secret," began Queenie
solemnly.
"My dear, I wouldn't breathe a word to a soul not if it were to save
my life. Didn't Christopher tell me all about it last night, sitting
there in his big chair, looking so good and beautiful, more fit to be
lifted straight up to heaven, as I always say, than to be down here
in father's big elbow chair, and with the tears all but running down
his cheeks, so that he had to take off his spectacles to wipe them."
"But, Miss Cosie--"
"And to begin in that joking way, too," went on Miss Cosie, too
intent on her reminiscences to heed the interruption. "'Well,
Charlotte, my dear,'--I hardly thought I should be deceived at my
time of life in this bare-faced manner,--'what do you think this sly
little puss of a schoolmistress has been doing?' that's how he began."
"I wish I had been behind the door."
"Why, it was as good as a play, and he enjoying my fright, for I was
quite in a fuss and worry in a moment. 'Don't tell me that our Miss
Marriott could do anything wrong, for I won't believe it, Kit,' I
returned; 'for she is as good a girl as ever lived, and a better
sister to that poor little sickly child never breathed, and you may
take my word for it, as sure as my name is Charlotte Logan.'"
"Thank you for that, dear Miss Cosie."
"'Don't put yourself out, Charlotte, there is no reason for it,' he
answers, quite calmly. 'I am not saying a word against Miss
Marriott's goodness; but she is a sly little creature for all that,
for she is hiding from us all that she is a rich woman, with a tidy
little fortune of five thousand a-year.' Dear, dear, the maze I was
in when he said that!"
"If only I had been there!" ejaculated Queenie feelingly.
"I wouldn't believe it for a long time, and then it seemed to come on
me like a flash. 'Why of course, Kit, my dear,' I said, as well as I
could speak for crying, for he had been telling me all about the
Brierwood Cottage conspiracy as he called it, and a more blessed deed
of charity never reached my ears; but it shall be restored four-fold,
pressed out and running over, and all that, my dear, you may rest
assured of that. 'Why it stands to reason, Kit, my dear,' I said,
'that a young lady like Miss Marriott, who has the carriage of a
duchess, and puts on her clothes well, and always holds her head
high, and looks you in the face, and moves about as though she knew
there was a barouche and pair waiting for her round every corner; why
it stands to reason that a noble young creature like that should turn
out to be somebody.'"
"But, Miss Cosie," exclaimed Queenie, trying not to laugh in the
little woman's face, "I am the same that I was before; it does not
make any difference in me, really, because Emmie's uncle chose to
leave me all his money."
"No, my dear, certainly not; and of course in church you will always
call yourself a miserable sinner, and all that, and of course that
will be right and proper; but if only you could have heard what
Christopher said about you! but I must not make you vain."
"Ah, Mr. Logan has been so good in helping me; he has managed
everything so cleverly," returned Queenie, thankful to turn Miss
Cosie's thoughts into a less embarrassing channel.
"My dear, you have no conception of Christopher's cleverness; he
ought to be the bishop of the diocese, or the prime minister, with
that head of his. No one can hold a candle to him, that is what I
always say; he is the wisest and the best and the cleverest man I
ever knew, in spite of his never remembering to take a clean
handkerchief out of his drawers unless I put it ready for him. Why
he actually ran after the bishop in that old patched dressing-gown of
his; but I have told you that story before," interrupting herself
just in time, and stopping to take breath. Now was Queenie's
opportunity.
"Miss Cosie," she began, still more solemnly than before, "you know
this is a great secret, and that it must be only known to us three."
"Yes, yes; of course, my dear."
"If the truth were to leak out in any way the whole plan will be
spoilt. Mr. Clayton would not touch the money if he knew it were
mine and not Mr. Logan's, and then he and Langley and Cathy would be
ruined."
"My dear, as though I would breathe a syllable!"
"No; you will not mean to say a word, but, all the same, a hint or a
moment's forgetfulness would betray us. Ah, there is Langley coming
up the garden; she has come, of course, to thank you as well as Mr.
Logan. Dear, dear Miss Cosie, do promise to be careful!"
"There, there, you are quite agitated, and no wonder; but you may
trust me; oh, you may trust me!" returned Miss Cosie with a soothing
pat and nod.
But she had no time to add more, for Langley was approaching them
with her pale face brightened with unwonted smiles.
"Dear Miss Cosie, I hardly know what I am to say to you and Mr.
Logan," she exclaimed, clasping the little woman in her arms with
unusual warmth, for Langley, in spite of her gentleness, was not a
demonstrative woman.
"There, there, say nothing at all about it," returned Miss Cosie
hurriedly and nervously; "that is by far the wisest plan, is it not,
Miss Marriott?" appealing in some alarm to her young companion.
"Yes; Miss Cosie would rather not be thanked," returned Queenie in a
low voice.
"Must I not tell you good dear people what I think of you both?"
continued Langley in her soft, persuasive manner. "When one's heart
is brimming over with gratitude one cannot refrain from speaking. I
always knew what unselfish Christians you were, but now you have
proved it without doubt."
"Oh, my dear, this is dreadful! pray, pray do not say any more, you
make me quite unhappy," exclaimed Miss Cosie, putting up her plump
hands in dismay. "Miss Marriott, if you love me, ask this dear soul
not to say any more."
"I think it upsets her and Mr. Logan to be thanked," observed
Queenie, turning her face a little aside, for Miss Cosie's
helplessness and terror moved her to inward laughter. "I think I
would let it be, Langley."
"Yes, do, there's a dear good creature," returned Miss Cosie,
breathing a little more freely; "it cuts one like a knife to hear
you, and then to know that one has nothing to do with the matter at
all."
"Miss Cosie means that she and Mr. Logan have no present use for the
money, that they did not intend to spend it," put in Queenie calmly;
"but she is so flurried and upset by the whole business that it is
kindest not to talk to her at all upon the subject. It only
distresses her kind heart," went on the young girl with the utmost
calmness, though her heart sank over Miss Cosie's first blunder.
And Langley, with her usual tact, quietly changed the subject.
But Queenie returned home ill-at-ease.
"I feel as though I were walking over a mine that might explode at
any moment under my feet," she said to Mr. Logan when he came to her
the next day to inform her that Garth had paid that visit to the
Carlisle Bank. "I hardly dare trust Miss Cosie out of my sight."
"Oh, it will be all right," he answered soothingly; "in a few days
the subject will have blown over, and she will have forgotten all
about it. Don't trouble yourself. This little plot of yours is
making you nervous."
"I think it is," she returned frankly; "my peace of mind is quite
gone, and I do nothing but anticipate difficulties; but, all the
same, I would not undo our work," smiling in her old bright manner.