"Wretched!" I thought, "in the midst of wealth, and loved by that
passionate, handsome man." Then I recalled how I had often heard of
lovers' quarrels, and supposed that this was one that would soon be made
up.
I felt very uncomfortable, and wondered what I ought to do. There was a
deep silence in the next room that became painful, and I wondered
whether Miss Carr had gone; but directly after I heard such a low bitter
sobbing that it went to my heart, and, unable to bear it longer, I went
to the door, looked in, and saw her half-lying on the couch, with her
face buried in the pillow, weeping bitterly.
I hesitated for a moment, and then went in unheard over the soft thick
carpet, and kneeling down, I took the inert hand hanging down, and
kissed it.
In a moment she stood up with pale and angry face, flinging me off as if
I had stung her.
"Oh, Antony, my boy; is it you?" she cried; and flinging her arms round
me, she let her head fall upon my shoulder, and went passionately and
long, while I tried to utter some feeble platitude to soothe her.
The storm passed off suddenly, and she wiped her swollen eyes.
"I had forgotten that you were there, Antony," she said. "I have had a
great trouble."
She spoke with her face averted, and she was trying now to remove the
traces of her tears.
"You could not hear what was said?" she asked.
"Yes, Miss Carr. I did not wish to, but I heard every word."
"Oh!"
She turned her wild eyes upon me, and her pale face flushed crimson as
she rose to leave the room, hurrying away and leaving me wondering
whether I ought to go.
I had just concluded that I ought, and, taking up a sheet of paper, I
had written a few lines saying how very sorry I was that I had been an
unwilling listener, when she came back with her hair re-arranged, and
looking pale and calm.
"Were you writing to me, Antony?" she said.
"Yes, Miss Carr."
"Let me see."
She read that which I had written, and smiled sadly. Then, tearing up
the note, she took my hand and led me once more to the couch.
"I am sorry that you heard what passed, Antony," she said; "but since I
have known you, I have gradually grown to look upon you as a friend as
well as a _protege_; you have told me your little history, and every
time I have seen you, you have shown me the fruit of the teachings of
those to whom you were very dear. I feel quite happy in knowing that
you, as the son of a gentleman, Antony, will hold all that you have
heard quite sacred."
"If you will only believe in and trust me," I cried.
"I do believe in and trust you, Antony," she said warmly. "Now I am
going to ask you to leave me, and come again to-morrow, after you have
been to the engineer's office. I am not well, and I should be glad to
be alone."
I rose, and as she held out her hand I took it and kissed it
reverently--so reverently, that she drew me to her, and touched my
forehead with her lips.
"Go now, Antony," she said, "and I think it will be better that you
should not return to the printing-office. I will arrange with Mr
Ruddle about that. A letter from me will be sufficient. And look here,
Antony: you will come here to me every Saturday, and Sunday too, if you
like. You need stand upon no ceremony--tut come. You will not be sorry
to leave the office?"
"Oh no," I said; "but I shall regret leaving Mr Hallett."
I thought it was fancy then, as I seemed to see a spasm shoot through
her. She said no more to me, but pressed something into my hand, and I
went downstairs.
I felt very proud as I made my way along the streets, wondering what was
in the packet Miss Carr had given me, and longing for an opportunity to
open it.
The park seemed the most suitable place, and, making my way there, I lay
down on the soft turf in a secluded place, opened the packet, and found
in it a letter and a purse containing two five-pound notes.
The letter was dated the night before, and it was very brief:
"My dear Antony,--
"I have thought that you may need several things in commencing your
new life, and as I wish you to appear as a gentleman's son who means
to work earnestly, I should provide serviceable clothes. I leave the
rest to your common-sense and discretion.
"Yours affectionately,--
"Miriam Carr."
"My dear Antony," "yours affectionately," I repeated to myself; and as I
lay there, after safely placing the note and purse in my pockets, I
wished earnestly that the dead could know and thank one who had so
evidently my welfare at heart.
Mary soon knew of my good fortune, but did not seem at all surprised.
"No, my dear, it's nothing more than natural," she said, as I partook of
tea with her; and in her affection for me she tried very hard to make me
bilious with the amount of butter in which she soaked my toast. "You
being a gentleman's son, and having had a par and a mar, it was no more
than one might expect, for gentlefolks to take notice of you. That Miss
Carr's a real lady, and I shouldn't wonder if she was to leave you no
end of money when she died."
"Oh, Mary!" I cried, "just as if I wanted Miss Carr to die and leave me
her money. I mean to earn some for myself, and when I get rich, you and
Revitts shall come and live with me."
"That we will," said Mary. "I'll be your cook, Master Antony, and Bill
shall be--shall be--"
"Bailiff and steward."
"Or else gardener," she said. "So you're going to buy some new clothes,
are you?"
"Yes, Mary; I must go well dressed to the engineer's."
"Then I should buy two more suits," said Mary eagerly. "Have a good
dark blue for Sundays, with gilt buttons, and for every day have
invisible green."