"TOO MANY COOKS."
"Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement;
shut that, and 'twill out of the keyhole; stop that, 'twill fly with
the smoke out of the chimney."--_Shakespeare._
It was a mild day in February, and as Queenie closed the door of the
little school-house, and walked up the field that led to the
vicarage, it seemed to her as though the very air held a promise of
spring. Now Queenie, like all healthy young creatures, dearly loved
the spring-time; to her imaginative temperament there could be
nothing more beautiful and satisfying than to watch this spectacle of
a faded and dead nature rising again into fresh life.
"How can people say there is no hereafter, when the miracle of the
resurrection is every year repeated before our eyes?" she said to
herself. To her there was ever a fresh pleasure in seeing the brown,
lifeless limbs of the elms and sycamores gradually clothe themselves,
first with budding shoots, and then with fair, green leaves. The
bursting hedgerows, the unfolding of the fronds of ferns, the first
peep of the fairy white bells of snowdrops, the pale glitter of
primroses, and the fragrance of violets, gave her a positive feeling
of happiness.
Everything so new, so fresh, so fair, soiled by no dust, scorched by
no burning sunshine; the whole world bright and unsullied as a baby
soul, to whom good and evil are unknown mysteries, and life means
nothing but perpetual satisfaction and content.
Queenie had a little errand to fulfil at the vicarage; one of her
scholars was ill, and she wanted Miss Cosie's recipe for a certain
compound that Miss Cosie judged to be highly efficacious in such
cases.
She entered the little parlor with her usual light step. Miss Cosie
was engaged in her favorite occupation--knitting socks for her
brother. She put down her work with a little flurry when she caught
sight of her visitor.
"There, there," exclaimed the little woman, turning very red,
"Christopher was right, as he always is, dear old fellow; and of
course you've come to scold me."
"To scold you, dear Miss Cosie!"
"Dear, dear, to think of my poor head getting into such a muddle, and
the words slipping out before I knew they were coming. Why, I could
have bitten my troublesome tongue I was so vexed with myself; but
what was the use of crying over spilt milk, as my poor mother used to
say, and a secret is sure to be proclaimed on the house-top some time
or other, as I told Mr. Garth."
"Now, Miss Cosie, what does this mean?" asked Queenie, conscious of
an uncomfortable sensation creeping over her; little Janie's sore
throat was quite forgotten. "Do you mean that, after all my
entreaties and warnings, you have betrayed me?"
"There, there, perhaps it is not so bad as you think," returned Miss
Cosie, patting her curls nervously, and prefacing her words with a
gentle cough; "it was only just a sentence or two that I let drop to
Mr. Garth when he came in here last night for a pleasant chat with
Christopher and me."
"Well?" somewhat sternly, for there was no denying that Queenie was a
trifle angry.
"Well, we were sitting as comfortably as possible; Christopher hadn't
come in, he had gone to baptize Wheeler Wilson's baby, and none too
soon, for it died this morning; and I took it its little burying
gown, and laid it out, the precious blossom, myself. And very
touching it was, and the poor mother crying her eyes out, because it
looked so pretty; and well, if she does take a drop of spirits now
and then we are all miserable sinners, the very best of us, and
Wheeler Wilson is none too careful; and--where was I, dearie? for I
have just gone and muddled myself again, I believe."
"You said you were alone with Mr. Clayton," returned Queenie, with an
inward prayer for patience. Miss Cosie's garrulity was terribly
trying.
"Yes; he was sitting there just where you are, and he was talking and
laughing and making believe to joke,--you know his way,--but all of a
sudden he turned serious. 'Miss Cosie,' he said, 'I have never
spoken to you about that money. Langley tells me you don't like to
be thanked; but, all the same, you and your brother have earned my
gratitude for the rest of my life, and I must say, God bless you for
it!' flushing up to the roots of his hair, poor young fellow, what
with the heat of the fire and his feelings together."
Queenie's hands clasped each other rather tightly, but she made no
observation as Miss Cosie paused to take breath.
"Well, I was turning the heel of my stocking, and I don't believe I
rightly took in the meaning of his words. 'You have nothing to thank
us for,' I said, as innocently as possible. 'We would have lent it
you and welcome, over and over again, Mr. Garth,' I said; 'but Kit is
as poor as a church mouse, and we hadn't more than a matter of ninety
pounds or so in the Bank.'"
"Miss Cosie, were you in your senses?" burst from Queenie's indignant
lips.
"Well, I was a bit dazed, I believe, for turning the heel of a
stocking is rather a delicate job to do by the firelight, and Dolly
had forgotten to light the lamp; but I was frightened as soon as I
had said it, for there he was staring at me with his eyebrows lifted,
and making me all of a tremble. 'Ninety! you mean nine hundred
pounds, Miss Cosie!' he said, quite sharply, for he could not make me
out at all. 'No; ninety, Mr. Garth,' I returned, for I knew I had
gone too far. and a lie is a thing I have never taken on my lips;
but I was all of a shake thinking about what Christopher and you
would say to me, and there he was forcing the truth out of me with
his eyes. 'What's the use of trying to deceive him?' I thought, 'I
am brought to book, and nothing but a heap of falsehoods can save
me,' and a falsehood has never come natural to me since I was a baby,
and poor mother read to me the story of Ananias and Sapphira,"
finished Miss Cosie in her innocent way.
"Go on; I am listening," sighed Queenie in a resigned voice.
"Well, I couldn't tell a direct story, as I said before, but I
thought just a tiny bit of deception wouldn't be wrong. 'There is
only ninety pounds now, Mr. Garth,' I went on; but that wouldn't do
at all. 'I don't like the look of this,' he muttered, and such a
frown came over his face, for he was getting put out with my
stammering and nervousness. 'Miss Cosie, tell me the truth, as you
are an honest woman; did you and Mr. Logan lend me these nine hundred
pounds?' 'Why no, Mr. Garth,' I answered, for there was no evading
such a direct question. 'Then, in the name of heaven, who did lend
me the money?' he asked, looking as cross and perplexed as possible.
Well, I didn't want to answer him till Christopher came in, for I
felt I had done enough mischief for one evening, so I let him guess
one person after another, till he jumped up and said he could bear it
no longer; he would go out and find Mr. Logan, or perhaps Miss
Marriott might be in the secret, and could give him an idea who his
secret benefactor was. Yes; he would go and ask her first, for she
always spoke the truth, and would tell him at once if she knew who
had lent him the money."
"I wish he had come to me. Yes; I wish he had spoken to me himself,"
murmured Queenie.
"Dear, dear, to think of that! and all I thought was to prevent his
coming. 'You must not go near her, Mr. Garth,' I said, 'for she is
so sensitive that she would half break her heart if you were to say
an angry word to her; and the poor child meant well when she lent you
the money.' 'The poor child! what do you mean, Miss Cosie?' for he
thought me daft, I could see that. 'I was talking of Miss Marriott,
what has she got to do with it, I should like to know?' 'Dear, dear,
this is dreadful, Mr. Garth,' I cried, for he was standing over me,
and wringing the truth out of me by inches. 'Why don't you go and
ask Christopher, he will tell you all about it?' 'I will,' he
answered, quite steadily, but there at the very moment was Kit
standing on the threshold looking at us, and I clapping my hands with
joy to see him."
"And what did Mr. Logan say?" asked Queenie with a proud flash upon
her face.
"Well, there was no keeping it back after that. Kit told him
everything clearly out, and how you were a rich woman and all that,
and how you had begged and prayed him to lend the money in his name."
"Tell me, tell me quickly, for I can bear no more, did Mr. Clayton
seem very angry?"
"Angry! oh, dear no," returned Miss Cosie, soothingly. "All his
fierceness died away, and he seemed quite lamb-like directly
Christopher spoke. After the first exclamation of surprise he never
said a word, but just sat looking as pale and dazed as possible until
Kit had finished all he had to say, and then he got up and said that
he must tell Langley, and he shook hands with me and Christopher and
went away."
"And he said nothing more?"
"No; his eyes looked a little queer, and I noticed his hand felt
cold, but he would not listen to me when I pressed him to have some
hot elder wine. I do believe he was quite in a maze with
astonishment and being taken so aback, poor young man."
"Thank you for telling me all," Queenie said very quietly, as she
stood up and drew on her gloves. Little Jane's sore throat was quite
forgotten; she was rather pale, and her lips trembled slightly as she
spoke, but there was no trace of excitement in her manner.
"And you are not vexed with me, my dear."
"Oh, no, I am not vexed; it may all be for the best, you know." Her
brief wrath had vanished. Who could long be angry with Miss Cosie,
with her gentle little mouse-face and tender-hearted ways? she was
not to blame, surely, for this strange sinking of heart, for these
uneasy fears.
Something must have happened to the Spring sun-light, it was so much
less radiant as she crossed the threshold of the Vicarage, a little
of the glory and freshness had died out of it somehow. "Can he
really be angry with me? I feel I cannot bear this suspense a moment
longer, I must know the worst at once. Ah! is it possible?" and a
slight trembling passed over the girl's frame, for there was Garth
Clayton coming up the Vicarage lane, and in another moment they would
meet face to face.
Miss Cosie had not been wrong in her account of Garth's utter
bewilderment the previous night, the news had simply stunned him. He
had gathered up his scattered forces, and had wished them good night,
and then he had gone home straight to Langley.
A sudden craving for sisterly sympathy had taken possession of him;
he must find some outlet for the bitterness that was in him. He was
battling bravely with untoward circumstance, but this fresh
misfortune that had overtaken him had deprived him temporarily of all
courage. That the sweetness of the hope within him should be so
utterly quenched! oh, it was hard, terribly hard.
Langley looked up a little startled as he threw himself into his
easy-chair. The old care-worn expression had returned again, he
looked pale and moody.
"Is there anything wrong; is it about Harry?" she faltered, for the
poor soul had been occupied that evening with her own troubles, and
was full of fears that needed tranquillizing.
"Wrong! oh, no! Won't you sit down and write a note of
congratulation to Miss Marriott; and won't you say something very
nice and kind from us both, Langley? One does not come into a
fortune every day, and of course she would wish to be congratulated,"
and then with a sort of enforced quietness he told her all that he
had lately heard at the Vicarage; and when he had finished Langley's
face wore a look of great perplexity.
"Stop a minute, Garth. I don't think I quite understand. Are you
sure that you have told me rightly; that Mr. Calcott has left all his
money to Miss Marriott, and that she and Emmie are rich, and have
secretly lent us all this money?"
"Emmie knows nothing about it. I am sure I told you that,"
impatiently.
"Ah, she has kept it even from her. Well, perhaps that was wisest
under the circumstances; and in her goodness of heart she had made
herself your creditor. Yes, I understand; it is very strange. I
cannot half believe it, but I think it is good news and need not make
you unhappy."
"Is that all you have to say about if?" with renewed bitterness.
"Oh, no; I have a great deal to say about it. I am very fond of Miss
Marriott; I like her better every day. I hope you do not mean to be
angry with her about this."
Then he was silent.
"I almost wish she had confided in us from the first," went on
Langley, thoughtfully. "All disguises are perilous, however
well-intentioned; but she has planned this loan with the utmost
delicacy and consideration for your feelings. As far as we are
concerned she has behaved with the truest generosity; I think you
must own that yourself."
"Truth is better than generosity," he answered gloomily.
"I never knew any one so thoroughly frank and honest," returned his
sister, eager to take up the defence of her favorite, but conscious
of the increasing gloom of his face. "I do think in these sort of
matters you are a little hard."
Then his bitterness overflowed and burst forth.
"Look here, Langley, I am not a bit hard. I have not a word to say
against Miss Marriott; in my opinion she has not perhaps adopted the
wisest course. I hate all make-believes and mysteries, even if they
are in a good cause, and I think with you that it would have been far
better for her to have told us all about it; but that's not the
question. The main point is, that I have gone and made a fool of
myself, and it is all no use."
Langley lifted her quiet eyes to his face, but she only smiled a
little at his excitement.
"Oh! it is no use your looking at me like that. You don't believe
what I say, but it is true for all that. Haven't I made a fool of
myself, and lost my heart to her, and given up Dora for her, and made
no end of plans for myself? and now this act of hers has sundered us
completely."
"Why so, dear Garth, when you know as well as I do that Queenie
Marriott has grown to care for you?" and Langley's voice was very
sweet in her brother's ears as she said this.
"Ah, she is young, she will get over that," but he shuddered slightly
at the sound of his own words. "I have not spoken to her. I have
been careful not to compromise her in the least, remember that,
Langley. I am not to blame if she have discovered things for
herself."
"But why put yourself to the needless pain of saying all this when
you care for each other, and must surely, by the leading of a kind
Providence, come together in the end."
"Is there a Providence in such cases?" he retorted bitterly. "I
thought people often met too late, or took wrong turnings in life;
half these affairs end crookedly."
"But not yours, my dear brother," her cheek turning pale at this
chance allusion. How often, poor woman, a bow was drawn at a venture
and wounded her in this random way.
"Yes; mine. Why not? Am I better than other people? Just look at
the bearings of my case: here I am, involved in debt and difficulty,
with years of hard work and harass before me, fighting inch by inch
for independence; what if I do care for this girl?" his voice
softening in spite of himself. "Do you think I am such a mean,
poor-spirited fellow that I should throw myself and my poverty and my
family claims at her feet, and ask her to take me in spite of it all,
and endow me with her riches?"
"If she loves you her riches need be no obstacle to either of you,"
she returned firmly.
"Well, perhaps not, in your view of the case; I have hardly made up
my mind about that. But what of this debt, Langley? do you think I
shall know peace until I have wiped it off? To be a debtor to a
woman, and, worse than that, to the woman I love; is it within the
limits of possibility that I can entertain the thoughts at which you
still hint until I have at least paid back to her every farthing of
this money?"
"And how long will it take you to do that?"
"Two years, at the present rate of things; at the very best a year
and a half?"
"Two years of suspense. Oh, Garth, how cruel!"
"Cruel to act like an honest man, and not take advantage of a simple,
inexperienced girl? What does she know of life and men?" he went on;
"has she ever seen any worthy of her interest? For shame, Langley!
you are thinking more of me than of her; you are not her best friend
by any means. Let her leave us, let her quit Hepshaw, and assume her
proper station; let her have the opportunity of judging us fairly,
and comparing us with others. How do you or I know that she will not
meet with some one far more worthy of her than ever I shall be?"
"Garth, my dear brother, this is truly generous; but I know Queenie,
she will stand your test, hard as it is, but she will suffer
terribly."
"She will not suffer as much as I, who am sending her from me. Do
you think it is no suffering to have to alienate her by a coldness I
must assume, for her good as well as mine? Do I not know her? am I
blind or without feeling? If I were to say to her, 'I am poor, but I
love you; will you take pity on me?' I am sure--yes, I am sure of
what her answer would be; but, as I am an honest man, I will not take
such mean advantage of her."
"Is this your final decision, Garth--to leave her free for two years?"
"Yes, it is," he replied slowly, but his face was pale, and he
frowned heavily as he spoke. "It must be two years, I am sure of
that, and then I will not speak to her unless I see my way clear
before me. And now we had better finish with this, it is somehow
getting too painful for me; I suppose I may trust to you not to
betray me?"
"I must not give her a hint of your real intentions?" rather
pleadingly.
"Of course not," he returned sternly, "that would undo the good and
purpose of my sacrifice--to leave her freedom and scope for choice.
Promise me you will do nothing of the kind, Langley."
"Oh, I will promise to do and say nothing of which you would not
approve," she answered meekly. Not for worlds would she add to his
trouble by even hinting that she was sorry for his decision, and
thought his generosity over-strained. She knew well what he must be
enduring, and all the length and breadth and depth of that great
pain; but as she leant over him, silently smoothing out with her
fingers the lines and furrows of his forehead, and thinking what she
might say to comfort him, he suddenly drew her towards him, and
kissed her twice very hurriedly, and then got up with a sort of groan
and left the room.