"AS WE FORGIVE."
THE Wentworths contrived to find room for the Rayburns, and begged of
them to stay as long as they conveniently could. Indeed, for some days
Janet could hardly have travelled, but she soon regained her usual
health and quiet cheerfulness. She and her husband, with Lily for their
companion, made Fred show them every spot connected with the story of
Frank's death, and his own life since then. Betty Giles's cottage, the
very spot on the road where the child-hero at last stumbled and fell,
were visited and revisited. But the mystery as to how the children had
so quickly got so far away from Rugeley was never thoroughly solved.
Fred had no remembrance of the long railway journey.
The Rayburns were the more inclined to linger at Edgestone because they
could not bring themselves to take Fred away from the kind friends who
had long regarded him as their own son. But this difficulty was ended
by a conversation between Mrs. Wentworth and Janet, one day when the
rest had gone for a long walk, leaving them to keep each other company.
They talked of various matters for some time. Then there was a short
silence, broken by Mrs. Wentworth, who said—
"Janet—I may call you Janet, may I not?—I want to ask you, if you don't
mind, what you mean to do about Fred?"
"Oh," said Janet, quickly, "he has not yet finished his studies. There
is a fine opening for a doctor in Gattigo, but Fred is not a doctor
yet."
"Then we may keep him till he is a doctor. Is that what you mean?"
"If you wish it. Of course, we would pay all his fees, or whatever
expenses there are; but we could not bear to think that you, who have
been so good to him—the truth is, Lucy, we have talked this over
several times, and we cannot get further than this: he must stay in
England to finish his studies."
"That will be another year. When that year is over, Alick will not be
sorry to leave Edgestone. I will speak to him, and I hope he will go
out with Fred and settle in Gattigo."
"But you?" Janet said softly.
"I shall be at rest, my dear. It cannot last another year. Fred has
made all the brightness poor Alick has had in his life since our boy
died and my long illness began. It is only right that Fred should go
out to you, but it would be hard on Alick to be left alone. I shall be
happy about him now."
"I am sure of one thing—Dr. Wentworth will be Fred's first thought,"
said Janet, earnestly. "And I am glad to know your wishes. My husband
cannot be absent from Gattigo much longer, but this makes it possible
to arrange matters."
"Tell me, Janet—I know you wrote to that dreadful woman, Mr. Rayburn's
stepmother—have you had an answer?"
"No; but I hope she will write. Poor, unhappy woman!"
"I hardly think she will. She must feel like a murderer."
"She never intended to drive the children to such an act—they were so
young that they did not understand. I think I hear them at the door.
Yes, here they all come, my poor Lily looking so happy! The cousins at
the Ferry Farm will be jealous."
After this, it was an understood thing that Fred was to live with the
Wentworths until he had completed his medical studies. His father and
mother were obliged to return to Canada, and the time they had fixed on
drew near.
"Fred," said Janet to her husband, "I want you to leave Edgestone one
day before we need go to Liverpool, for—I want to go to Hemsborough."
"Why, Janet?"
"I want to see Mrs. Rayburn. She has not answered my letter, but I am
sure she is very unhappy—though, indeed, I tried to be gentle with her.
Do you remember, in that first letter—the one that told us that she had
seen our boy—she seemed to long sore to be forgiven?"
"Janet—how can we forgive her? You ask too much—I'm only a man."
"Have we no need of forgiveness? And remember 'forgive us, as we
forgive.' Oh, dear Fred, you would not make that prayer mean 'do not
forgive, for I will not'?"
There was no resisting that argument. In a few days, farewell was said
to the Wentworths, and also to the little grave, where now a marble
cross bore Francis Rayburn's true and full name, and after the date and
notice of his age, the words "Love is strong as death." Fred went with
them, intending to see them off, and then go to London to continue his
studies.
They went to Hemsborough, and walked from the railway station to the
Thompsons' house. They knocked and inquired if Mrs. Rayburn were at
home. The servant said—
"Mrs. Rayburn is not at all well. She keeps her room, and sees nobody,
ma'am."
"Please ask if she will see me," said Janet. "I am her daughter-in-law."
The girl ran upstairs, and in a minute or so a lady came down to speak
to them. Janet recognized her as one of the Thompson nieces of whom
Mrs. Rayburn used to talk so much.
"Mrs. Rayburn, my aunt is too ill to see any one but you," she began;
"Mr. Rayburn must excuse her. Indeed, I have had great work to persuade
her to see you; she is in such a state of nerves. She is very ill, and
has been worse ever since she had a letter from you."
Anna Thompson was looking curiously at the two young people all this
time. Janet turned to her husband.
"Will you go back to the station, Fred, or will you wait here?"
"Come in and wait in the parlour. My mother is there," said Miss
Thompson. So they went to the parlour, while she took Janet upstairs.
"My aunt is a very secret woman," she said. "We know she has something
on her mind, but she never talks of it. This is her room."
She led Janet in, and, going over to the window, took up some work that
lay there, and sat down.
Mrs. Rayburn lay watching Janet with a strange gleam in her eyes, but
she did not speak. Janet went up to the bed.
"Don't you know me, Mrs. Rayburn?"
"I know you. Is Anna there? Anna, go away—I must see Janet alone. Don't
be angry, Anna—you're very kind, but I must see Janet alone."
"Oh, certainly," said Miss Thompson, tossing her head. "I just thought
you might be faint, you know; but I'm sure I don't want to stay."
And she left the room with her nose in the air.
"Janet, you are changed. You have a sad face now. You never can forgive
me?"
"I do forgive you, Mrs. Rayburn. I am sure you have suffered
dreadfully, and been very sorry—and we forgive you, as we hope to be
forgiven."
"Fred—Fred forgives me?"
"Yes; he is here—will you see him? Will you see my boy, and Lily?"
"No, no. Ah! They may forgive, but I can never forgive myself. I dare
not even pray to be forgiven. Why, Janet, I murdered your Frank just as
surely as I thought all these years that I might have murdered both.
Oh, when I saw Fred, and felt sure that it was Fred, I never doubted
but what Frank was safe too! My heart got so light, I began to feel
like myself again. Then came your letter, and though you wrote kindly,
every word pierced me through. I don't know but that I am worse, now I
know for certain that Frank is dead, than I was when I could sometimes
hope that both had escaped."
"Mrs. Rayburn, I have but a little time to stay with you, for our
passages are taken, and we must get on to Liverpool to-day. But do
listen to me, and don't be angry with me for speaking plainly. Whether
one or both of my boys lived or died makes no difference at all in your
share in the children's flight. You never meant to harm them, I know.
You would not willingly have injured them. So, though they had perished
in the Kelmer, or died in any way, you are no murderer. Your nerves are
shaken, and you think the whole over and over till you cannot really
see it. What you really have to repent of is, you promised to be kind
to the boys, and you were not. They were used to kindness, and were
more frightened, I suppose, than other children might have been."
"Janet, I cannot take any comfort till I have told you just what
happened. No one else can tell you."
She sat up and began what proved to be a long story, but Janet listened
patiently, even to the first part, which concerned her life at the old
Gatehouse. When she came to the story of the children, their mother had
no need of patience. She listened with quiet tears to the history of
Frank's constant care for the little one, and the occurrences of the
last day at Kelmersdale quite accounted for the children's flight.
"And now, Janet, can you say again that I did not murder Frank?"
Janet dried her eyes, and, looking gently at the poor woman, she said—
"I can. You did not intend to injure them in any way. For what you did,
that made them unhappy and drove them away from you, we forgive you
with all our hearts. Mrs. Rayburn, I must go; but promise me one thing.
I am sure there must be some clergyman here in whom you could have
confidence. Send for him, be as candid with him as you have been with
me; and though we shall hardly meet again on earth, we shall meet at
the right hand of the Judge—both of us forgiven sinners, for His sake."
"I will—I promise you. Oh, Janet! How good you are to me! Since you can
forgive me, surely I may hope."
"He who taught us to forgive will not be unforgiving."
Janet bent and kissed her, and then went quickly to the door, for she
felt that her stay was longer than had been intended. As she opened the
door, she saw Miss Anna in full flight down the passage, and could not
help suspecting that she had been listening.
It was not nice of Miss Anna to listen at the door, yet, strange to
say, what she thus heard made a great change in her.
"There must be some truth in this talk about religion," she thought. "I
expected poor Janet would shake her in the bed, and instead she forgave
her, and seemed quite anxious about her, and spoke so kindly."
And thus the leaven was hid in the meal, and gradually the whole was
leavened.
The Rayburns had lost the train by which they had meant to go on to
Liverpool, but they were in time for the boat in which their passage
was taken. The parting with Fred was a trial, but it was, they hoped,
only for a time.
And, now that Janet has found both her boys, we may bid her farewell.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
LONDON AND BECCLES.