"I have heard so often of your beauty, goodness, and your many acts of
kindness, that I have been tempted to ask you to come once and see me
before I pass away. I would say _pray_ come, but I think your gentle
heart will listen to my simple appeal. Come to me, and say good-bye.
"Netta Lane."
Here followed the address.
"It's some poor creature in great distress, my dear, who has heard of
us. We'll go this afternoon, and take her something."
"Would you go, mamma?" faltered Tiny, whose heart told her whom the
letter was from.
"Certainly, my dear. I shouldn't rest to-night if I'd left such an
appeal as that unanswered, let alone enjoy our At Home; though there
isn't much enjoyment to be got out of those affairs, with everybody
drinking tea on the stairs, and ten times as many people as we've room
for."
"Then you would go, mamma?"
"Certainly, darling. It's an awkward time for her to send, but we'll
go; and oh, my darling, pray, pray try and look bright. You make me
wretched."
"I do--I will try, mamma!" exclaimed Tiny, suppressing a sob. "But tell
me, is Captain Vanleigh going to be here to-night?"
"I--I was obliged to send him an invitation, my darling," said Lady Rea,
pitifully. "Your papa stood at my side while I wrote it. If--if--he--
Mr Trevor had stood firm to you, they should have cut me in pieces
before I'd have done it; but as it is, what can I do?"
Tiny made no reply; and directly after luncheon the carriage came round,
and, being left at the corner of the narrow street, Lady Rea and her
daughter made their way on foot to the house of Mrs Jenkles.
Mrs Lane met them, and said it was her daughter's wish to see Miss Rea
alone, if she would condescend to go up and see her; and a minute after,
with a mist floating before her eyes, and a singing in her ears, Tiny
stood near Netta's couch, as the poor girl lay, with clasped fingers,
gazing up at the graceful, fashionably-dressed girl.
Tiny maintained a haughty silence for a few minutes. This was the girl
for whom she had been forsaken. She felt sure of it. How could it be
otherwise? But the letter said that she was dying. Fin had told her of
Pratt's assurances; and, as the mist cleared away, so melted the
hauteur, for she could not look upon the soft, sweet face before her
with anger; and if he loved her, should not she do the same? The two
girls gazed in each other's eyes for a few moments, and then, with a
smile, Netta held out one hand.
"Thank you for coming," she said. "I have wanted to see you for months,
and I was afraid I should not live long enough. Do you know why?"
"No--I cannot tell," said Tiny, in a choking voice; for she, too, could
see for herself the truth of what had been said.
"I wanted to see the beautiful girl that he loves--her of whom he has so
often talked--and to tell you that you have misjudged him, if you think
as your sister thinks in the letter she sent."
"Letter?" exclaimed Tiny.
"Yes, this," said the girl, producing one from her bosom. "Oh, Miss
Rea, how can you slight his noble love? If you only knew! You both
misjudge him. Look at me, dear. I am here now; perhaps to-morrow, or
the next day, I shall be gone. But I do not think I could have died
without seeing you face to face, and telling you that he has been true,
and noble, and faithful to you. You might not have believed me if I had
been different; but now, ready to go away, you know mine are true words,
when I tell you Richard Lloyd has been to me as a brother."
"Oh, I believe, I believe!" sobbed Tiny, sinking on her knees beside the
couch. "But it is too late--too late!"
"No, no," whispered Netta, "it is not too late. Make him happy. Send
to him to come to you. He is too proud and poor to come himself. But I
know his story: how he lost all through being so honourable and good.
Tiny--you see I know your name; why, he has described you to me so often
that I should have known _you_--send for him, and bless him. You could
not love such a one as he too well."
"Too late!" sobbed Tiny. "It is too late."
She started up, and turned as if to go; but only to push her hair back
from her forehead, lean over Netta's couch and kiss her, as a pair of
thin, weak arms closed round her neck. Then, tearing herself away, she
hurried from the house with Lady Rea, who vainly questioned her as to
the cause of her agitation.
"I asked the woman, who is very ladylike, my dear, but she said her
daughter would explain; so I waited till you came down; and now," said
the little ruffled dame, "you do nothing but cry."
"Don't ask me now, mamma, dear," sobbed Tiny, covering her face with her
hands. "Another time I'll tell you all."
"Very well, my darling," said Lady Rea, resignedly. "But, pray, try now
and look brighter. Papa will be terribly put out if he finds you so;
for he said you told him yesterday you would do as he wished about
Captain Vanleigh, and Aunt Matty has been quite affectionate to me ever
since."
"Mamma, dear, do you think it will make you happier?"
"I don't know, my dear," said Lady Rea. "I blame myself sometimes for
not being more determined; but I'm obliged to own that Captain Vanleigh
has been very patient, and he must care for you."
Tiny shuddered again, and her sobs became so violent that Lady Rea drew
up the carriage window, for a few minutes being quite alarmed. At
length, though, the poor girl grew calm, and seemed to make an effort
over herself as they neared home, just as Fin crossed the road from the
square garden, looking as innocent as if she had not had half an hour's
talk with Frank Pratt.
Volume 3, Chapter XV.