WHAT HAPPENED IN ROOM FORTY-SEVEN
As the last period of study drew to an end on Tuesday afternoon, the
hearts of the four girl chums beat a trifle faster than usual. What if
after all their conjectures were to prove erroneous, and Mabel Allison
was not the long-lost daughter of the woman in the hospital? All they
had to go by was the remarkable resemblance between the two, and the
slight emotion displayed by Mrs. Allison at the mention of Mabel's name.
When Grace had repeated the details of their call at the hospital to
Jessica, the latter had turned very white, but had said bravely, "I
expected it. We will go with you on Tuesday. Shall I prepare Mabel for
it?"
"No," Grace had replied. "We may find ourselves mistaken, and think what
a cruel disappointment it would be to Mabel. I don't mean by that
Jessica, that Mabel is anxious to leave you, but you know perfectly well
that the desire of Mabel's life is that she may some day find her
parents."
In almost utter silence the four chums, accompanied by Mabel Allison,
crossed the campus and turned into High School Street at the close of
the afternoon session on Tuesday. Each girl seemed busy with her own
thoughts.
"What has come over you girls?" inquired Mabel curiously. "When four of
the liveliest girls in school become mum as the proverbial oyster,
surely something is going to happen."
"'Coming events cast their shadows before'" said Anne half dreamily.
"Well, I wish they'd stop casting shadows over my little playmates
then," laughed Mabel.
At this remark Grace made an effort to appear unconcerned.
"Are you going to play on the junior basketball team this year, Mabel?"
she asked, by way of changing the subject.
"I don't know," replied Mabel. "I feel as though I ought to study every
minute I am in High School, in order to be more thoroughly capable of
earning my own living. I don't expect to be forever dependent upon my
friends."
"Dependent, indeed," sniffed Jessica. "You know perfectly well, you bad
child, that papa and I have been the gainers since you came to us, and
now--" she stopped just in time.
"'And now,' what?" asked Mabel.
"Here we are at the hospital," broke in Nora without giving Jessica time
to answer.
The little party waited what seemed to them an interminable length of
time; although it was in reality not more than five minutes before the
attendant returned with the news that they might see the patient in 47.
Grace had purposely voiced their request in so low a tone that Mabel had
not heard her mention the patient's name, and she accompanied the four
girls without the faintest idea of what their call might mean to her.
"Now for it," breathed Grace, as they paused at the door of 47.
"Come in," said a sweet voice, in answer to the attendant's knock, and
the five girls were ushered into Mrs. Allison's presence.
"How are my young friends, to-day!" she cried gayly, rising from the
easy chair in which she was sitting and coming forward with
out-stretched hands.
"Very well, indeed," replied Grace, Anne and Nora in a breath as they
shook hands.
"Mrs. Allison," said Grace hurriedly, "these are my friends, Miss
Jessica Bright and Miss Mabel Allison."
The woman who was in the act of acknowledging the introduction to
Jessica started violently when Grace pronounced Mabel's name, dropped
Jessica's hand and began to tremble as she caught sight of Mabel, who
stood behind Jessica, an expression of amazement in her brown eyes, that
the patient's name should be the same as her own.
"Who--who--" gasped the woman, pointing at Mabel, then overcome sank
into her chair, covering her face with her hands.
Grace sprang to her side in an instant, kneeling beside her chair.
"Mrs. Allison," she cried impulsively. "Forgive me. I should not have
startled you so. I did not really know, although I felt sure that--"
But Mrs. Allison had uncovered her face and was looking eagerly at
Mabel, who stood the picture of mystification.
"Who is that young girl who bears the name of my baby, and where did she
come from?" asked the patient hoarsely.
"Speak to her," whispered Jessica, pushing Mabel forward.
"I am Mabel Isabel Allison--" began Mabel, but before she could proceed
further the woman had risen, and clasping the girl in her arms, began
smoothing her hair and kissing her, laughing and crying hysterically.
"You are my baby girl that I lost long ago, my own little Mabel. I know
it. I know it."
"Mrs. Allison," said Grace firmly, placing her arm around the sobbing
woman, who seemed to have entirely lost control of her emotions, "try
and be calm. There is so much to tell. Will you listen to me? And you
must sit down, you were not strong enough for this. We should have
waited."
Mrs. Allison partially released Mabel from her embrace, though she still
held her hand, and allowed Grace to gently push her back toward her
chair.
"I don't quite understand you, my dear," she said brokenly. "But I am
sure that I have found my own dear little child."
"And I am sure of it, too," replied Grace. "In fact, we have suspected
it since the day we first saw you at the station. We noticed the marked
resemblance between you and Mabel, and when you told us your name was
Allison we all felt that you might be Mabel's mother. Do you feel strong
enough to hear our story and to tell us yours?"
"Tell me quickly," exclaimed Mrs. Allison eagerly, recovering in a
measure from her violent agitation. "I must know the truth. It seems
incredible that I should find my lost baby girl alive and in good hands.
I am surely dreaming. It cannot be true. Yet she has the same sweet,
serious expression in her brown eyes that she had in babyhood. Even her
middle name, Isabel, that her father insisted upon giving her because it
is mine!"
Anne, dreading another outbreak, gently interposed. "Try and be calm,
Mrs. Allison, while we tell you about Mabel."
Then Anne began with the winning of the freshman prize by Mabel at the
close of her freshman year, and the interest she had aroused in the girl
chums, and followed with the story of her adoption by the Phi Sigma Tau.
Mrs. Allison listened in rapt attention until Anne had finished. "God is
good," she murmured. "A higher power surely willed that Mabel should
find true and worthy friends."
Then she began questioning Mabel about her life in the orphanage. Did
Mabel have any recollection of the day she was brought there? Had Mary
Stevens, the attendant, ever described the clothing that she had worn
when found?
"I have the baby pins I wore with me. Jessica asked me to wear them
to-day," replied Mabel, who looked like a person just awakened from a
deep sleep. She had not yet reached a full comprehension of what it all
meant.
"Let me see them," cried Mrs. Allison.
Mabel mechanically detached one of the little gold pins from her collar
and handed it to Mrs. Allison, who examined it closely for a moment,
then dropping it with a little cry, again clasped Mabel in her arms.
"They are the pins I had specially made and engraved for you," she said.
"There is no longer any doubt. You are my lost child."
At these words a light of complete understanding seemed to dawn upon
Mabel, and with a cry of rapture she wound her arms about her mother's
neck.
It was a joyful, though rather a trying moment for the four chums, who
were seized with a hysterical desire to laugh and cry in the same
breath. Grace made a slight motion toward the door, which her friends
were not slow to comprehend. It was her intention to slip quietly away
and leave the mother and daughter alone with their new-found happiness.
Before she could put her plan into execution, however, Mrs. Allison
divined her intention and turning quickly toward her, said, "Don't go,
Grace. I feel as though you girls belonged to me, too. Besides, you have
not heard my part of this story yet."
"Perhaps you are hardly strong enough to tell us after so much
excitement," deprecated Grace.
"My dear, I feel as though I had just begun to live," answered Mrs.
Allison. "The past has been one long dreary blank. If you only knew the
years of agony I have passed through. When you hear my story you will
understand why this reunion is little short of miraculous.
"My home is in Denver. Mabel was born there," continued Mrs. Allison.
"Fourteen years ago this summer my husband and I decided to spend the
summer in Europe, taking with us our baby daughter, Mabel, and her
nurse.
"On the morning that we were to sail, circumstances arose that made it
necessary for my husband and myself to be in New York until almost
sailing time. He therefore sent the nurse, a French woman, who was
thoroughly familiar with the city, on ahead to the vessel, with Mabel in
her care. We had barely time to catch the boat and were met by the
nurse, who said that she had left Mabel asleep in one of the state rooms
engaged for us. It was not until we had put out to sea that we
discovered that Mabel was missing, and a thorough search of the ship was
at once made. The nurse persisted in her statement that Mabel went
aboard with her. Every nook and cranny of the ship was overhauled, but
my child could not be found, and the supposition was that she had in
some way fallen overboard.
"I was distracted with grief, and nearly lost my reason, and when we
reached the other side I passed into a long illness. It was many weeks
before I returned to consciousness of my affairs, and the terrible
realization that my baby was gone forever. I felt as though I could not
face the future without her. I had scarcely recovered from the first
shock attending my great loss, when my husband contracted typhoid fever
and died after an illness of five weeks.
"We were in Florence, Italy, at the time and I prayed that I might die,
too. It was during those dark hours that Mrs. Gibson proved her
friendship for me. She sailed for Italy the instant she received the
cablegram announcing my husband's death, and brought me back to America
with her. I spent a year with her in her New York home, before returning
to Denver. Since then I have never been east until this summer.
"Four months ago I received a letter from the nurse who had charge of
Mabel on the day of her disappearance. It was a great surprise to me, as
she had left us directly after we landed with the intention of returning
to France. But the news the letter contained was a far greater surprise,
for she stated that Mabel had never gone aboard the vessel.
"The nurse had had some personal business to attend to before going
aboard, and in order to save time had taken Mabel with her. In some
inexplicable manner Mabel had strayed from her side. She had made
frantic search for the child and finally, not daring to go to us with
the truth, had conceived the idea of making us believe that she had
taken Mabel aboard the ship. She had bribed the purser, a Frenchman whom
she knew, to corroborate her story, and had succeeded in her treacherous
design.
"She wrote that she had longed over and over again to confess the truth,
but had not dared to do so. She had heart trouble, she said, and her
days were numbered. Therefore she felt that she must confess the truth
before it became too late.
"You can imagine," said Mrs. Allison, "the effect this letter had upon
me. For fourteen years I had mourned my child as dead. It seemed
infinitely worse to hear that she had not died then, but was perhaps
alive, and in what circumstances?
"The day I received the letter I took the train for the east, wiring the
Gibsons to meet me, and aided by them engaged the best detective service
upon the case. There was little or nothing to furnish us with a clue,
for the nurse's lying statement had misled us; we were out at sea before
we knew positively that Mabel had disappeared, and my long illness in
Europe, followed by my husband's death kept me from instituting a
thorough search of New York City.
"I was bound for New York in answer to a summons from the men engaged on
the case, when this accident occurred. Mr. Gibson had offered to make
the journey for me, but I felt that I alone must hear the first
news--and to think that through that blessed accident I stumbled upon my
little girl." She ceased speaking and with streaming eyes again clasped
Mabel in a fond embrace.
The chums found their own eyes wet, during this recital, but of the
four, Jessica appeared to be the most deeply moved. Mabel had meant more
to her than to the others, and she found herself facing the severest
trial that had so far entered her young life. She drew a deep breath,
then went bravely over to Mrs. Allison, saying with quivering lips:
"It is very, very hard to give Mabel up. She is the child of our
sorority, but she belongs most of all to me. She is the dearest girl
imaginable, and neither hardship nor poverty have marred her. She is
sweet, unselfish and wholesome, and always will be. I am glad, glad,
glad that her dream has at last been realized, and I should be the most
selfish girl in the world if I didn't rejoice at her good fortune."
She smiled through her tears at Mabel, who rushed over to her and
exclaimed:
"Jessica, dearest, you know perfectly well how much I do and always
shall love you, and Grace and Anne and Nora, too."
The four girls lingered a few moments, then said good-bye to Mrs.
Allison and Mabel, who was to remain for the present with her mother.
She kissed her friends tenderly, promising to see them the next day.
"I'll be in school to-morrow unless mother needs me here," she said with
such a world of fond pride in her voice that the girls who had so
willingly befriended her felt that their loss was a matter of small
consequence when compared with the glorious fact that Mabel had come
into her own.