A TELEGRAM.
"Repine not, O my son;
In wisdom and in mercy heaven inflicts
Its painful remedies."
SOUTHEY.
ABOUT three weeks previous to the events related in the last chapter,
Mina was with her again spending the evening friend Alice Grandpont.
Times had been rather dull there lately, for Horace had been much less
at home of late, and Mina was usually obliged either to leave quite
early, or to depend upon a servant to take her home. On this particular
evening, however, his sister was expecting him home from London, where
he had been for several days, and as he was always as attentive as ever
to Mina whenever they met, the latter was pluming herself upon her good
fortune in being upon the spot to welcome him.
Horace had gone to town rather suddenly, intending to stay a few days
only, but had written by the next morning's post to inform his mother
that he purposed prolonging his visit a week or so beyond his original
intention.
For this determination, he gave no reason whatever, and Alice had
observed her father's brow cloud upon receiving the intelligence.
Whether the latter had written to Horace or not, she did not know. But
a few days later, she received a few lines appointing a certain time
for his return, and enclosing a message "to the 'pater'" to the effect
that he would give his reasons by word of mouth when they met. Alice
fancied her father was somewhat put out on reading the letter; but
nothing further was said, and the matter passed.
The following evening, however, Mr. Grandpont had come in suddenly, and
after a brief interview with his wife had started hurriedly for London,
not even waiting to take any refreshment.
"I cannot imagine what possessed papa," Alice remarked, as she and Mina
sat together over their crewel work. "I encountered him in the hall a
few minutes before he started, and he nearly overthrew me in his hot
haste. If only I had known it, Burton was putting Poster to, and I
might have driven to the station with him; but I had not the faintest
idea he was going. It is so unlike papa to scurry in that fashion."
"Mrs. Grandpont knows of course?" inquired Mina, whose curiosity was
very quickly roused by the idea of a mystery.
"Mamma either doesn't know or chooses not to tell," replied Alice.
"'Business' is the utmost I can extract from her. But if she is in the
dark, it is certainly not by her own choice, for she has been very
moody ever since. In fact—don't feel offended, my dear!—that was partly
why I was so anxious for you to come. Mamma was such dull company, that
I was positively afraid of a fit of 'the blues.'"
"Anyhow, Horace will be in soon, I suppose," said Mina, unable to
conceal the fact that this consideration had more interest for her than
anything else. "What train did you say you expected him by?"
"All in good time, my dear," replied her friend, with provoking
coolness. "Don't be in such a hurry. I'm very good company, I believe.
He has missed this train, surely. I sent Burton down to meet him; but
he must have returned before now."
At that moment a sound of wheels caught Alice's ear.
"That's Poster!" she cried, hurrying to the window. "I know the sound
of his hoofs."
Then, as she watched the lamps of the dog-cart, "What a shame! Burton
is driving straight to the yard. No Horace!"
The next train was not due until half-past eight, so Mina had to
swallow her disappointment and make the best of Alice's society for
another hour.
Presently Mrs. Grandpont joined them; but she was unusually
pre-occupied, and Mina saw at once that Alice was not mistaken.
Something was wrong.
In process of time, the half-past eight train became over-due, and
still no Horace. Alice had consulted her watch a good many times. At
last, she could be silent no longer.
"Five minutes to nine!" she exclaimed. "What can Horace mean?"
She glanced up at her mother as she said the words. The latter was
sitting with her hands resting upon her work, gazing before her into
the fire, with her lips compressed and a pained expression on her
face. She did not reply for some minutes; then she repeated quietly,
"Five minutes to nine; and the train was due three minutes before the
half-hour. He cannot intend to return this evening."
To hear her calm voice, no one would have suspected the agony of
suspense that was torturing her. A few minutes later she spoke again.
"Mina, my dear," she asked, "is any one coming to fetch you? Because
if not, I will ring for one of the servants. They must not be late
to-night."
Mina, dreadfully disappointed, but not caring whether or no she stayed
any longer once Horace was actually given up, replied in the negative,
and putting up her work, in obedience to Mrs. Grandpont's request, went
to Alice's room for her wraps.
"Mamma is so fidgety about the servants being a little late," the
latter remarked, as she tripped upstairs with her arm round her
friend's waist; "and she appears to have thoroughly made up her mind
that Horace has no intention of keeping faith with us to-night,
although there are two trains yet by which he might reasonably return."
Mina found her father and mother in the dining-room when she went in,
the former just preparing to come and fetch her home.
"What a dear, good old daddy it is to trouble so much about me!" she
began, in her usual petted way. But something in her father's face
checked her.
He took off his comforter at once. "I did not expect you so soon,
Mina," he said; "but I am glad you had the good feeling to come away
immediately. You were quite right to do so. Has Mr. Grandpont returned?"
"No, papa; I do not think they are expecting him to-night. They were
expecting Horace; but they had given him up when I left."
Mr. Adams took several turns up and down the rug, then went out into
the hall and removed his overcoat. Mina was crossing the room to carry
her wraps upstairs when he returned.
"It is a dreadful trial for them, if it be true, as I fear it must be,"
he said to his wife as he entered.
Mina paused half-way, and looked from one to the other.
Her father read her inquiry.
"It may not be true," he said, in answer. "There is just that bare
possibility, but it is better you should know at once, Mina. It is said
that Horace Grandpont has been guilty of making love to the daughter
of an old friend of his father's, in order that he might rob her
jewel-case to pay the debts which he has incurred at the gaming-table;
and I fear it is only too true. Unless his father was in time to
overtake him, he is now on his way to the Colonies."
Mina stood rooted to the spot, unable to find a single word. "They do
not know it," she said at last. "Alice does not, at least."
"I fear it is only too true," her father repeated.
Before Mina had time to recover from the shock of this intelligence, a
sharp ring at the bell brought the housemaid hastily from the kitchen.
The next minute she entered with a telegram. Mr. Adams' face clouded as
he read it. His wife and Mina watched him anxiously.
"Business, Benjamin?" the former at length inquired, finding that he
vouchsafed no information concerning its purport.
"N—no, not exactly," he replied hesitatingly. "From Oxford. Neville has
run out of money—and—is unwell."
"Unwell!" exclaimed his wife, rising and hurrying towards him. "It is
nothing serious?"
"I think I had better go to him," Mr. Adams said, still holding the
telegram. "He is out of money, you see."
"Is he seriously ill?" cried Mrs. Adams, snatching the telegram.
It was from the house where Neville lodged, and was worded as follows:—
"Come at once. Your son is ill with congestion of the lungs, and has no
cash in hand."
For a minute or two Mrs. Adams stood reading the words over and over
as if unable to believe them. Then turning to her husband, in a firm,
decided voice she said, "I must go at once."
In half an hour's time, the father and mother were on their way to
catch the last train for London, where they hoped to be in time for
the night mail to Oxford. And Mina—bewildered, unstrung, and terrified
beyond measure—was left alone.