An Alarm
The Easter holidays were for three weeks, and to Aldred each day seemed
more enjoyable than the one before. She was thoroughly at home at
Grassingford, and felt as if she could have wished to remain there for
ever. She had become a great favourite with both Mr. Farrington and Lady
Muriel: her bright ways entertained them, and they were glad also for
Mabel to have a companion of her own age.
"You seem more like a sister to me than Nora or Adelaide," said Mabel
one day. "They were both married when I was quite tiny, so I haven't
seen a very great deal of them--not having them living in the house, I
mean. And Sibyl and Ida at the Rectory are older than I am, too. Francis
is the nearest to me--he's seven months younger--but then he's a boy,
and that isn't in the least the same as having a girl friend, is it? I
couldn't talk secrets to him! Mother says she will invite you as often
as your father will spare you, so we can look forward to plenty more
delightful times together. We shall call the little blue bedroom your
room now, and it will always be ready and waiting for you to come back
to it."
This was a very desirable state of affairs to Aldred. She was quite
content to be half-adopted by the Farringtons, and to know she was such
an acceptable and welcome addition to their household. She had never
felt herself of any great importance at her own home, but here she was
constantly considered, her opinion being asked and her wishes consulted;
and she was well aware that with Mabel, at any rate, her will was almost
law. She knew how greatly the rest of the girls at school had envied her
this visit, and how it would raise her yet higher in their estimation
when she returned to Birkwood. She would certainly have a good excuse in
future for taking the lead in her Form, and letting the others plainly
realize that they had not had her advantages.
It is at moments like this, when we are complacent with fortune, and
think our happiness will never be moved, that Fate sometimes steps in,
and with stern hand topples over all our schemes of self-advancement,
and threatens us with utter desolation.
In the very last week of Aldred's visit, when she was at the height of
enjoyment and gratification, and was beginning to consider herself
almost a permanent fixture at the Hall, something happened--something
that she might have anticipated, indeed, yet a contingency that had
never occurred to her, and therefore as unexpected as unwelcome.
One morning, after the arrival of the post-bag, Mabel came running up to
her friend with a look of bright animation on her face.
"From Cousin Marion!" she exclaimed, waving a letter enthusiastically in
her hand. "She writes that she's staying at Evington, and wants us to go
over and see her. I'm so glad, for I always wanted to introduce you to
her."
It was a very innocent remark of Mabel's, but it came upon Aldred like
a bolt from the blue. Cousin Marion--the very person of all others in
the world whom she most dreaded to meet! The shock was so great that she
was obliged to clutch with trembling fingers at the back of a chair, to
support herself. On no account must she allow her emotion to be noticed,
so she waited for a few seconds until her voice was steady enough to
reply.
"Your Cousin Marion! Why, I thought she was in Germany!"
"So she was, and had intended to stay for a year; but the baths did her
so much good that the doctor said she was practically cured, and might
return to England for the summer, at any rate. I'll read you a piece out
of her letter. She says: 'It is ages since I saw you, so ask your mother
to bring you on Thursday, and include your heroic little friend in the
invitation. I well remember seeing her on the pier at Seaforth, but had
not the pleasure of making her acquaintance'--Why, what's the matter,
Aldred? Are you ill?"
"I'm afraid I must be bilious this morning, I feel so shaky, and
headachy, and queer!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Mabel was at once all sympathy and concern. "You
must come and lie down on the sofa, and I'll fetch you my bottle of
eau-de-Cologne. There! Now you'll feel more comfortable. Would you like
some soda water, or lemon juice? I believe it's a very good thing. I
never remember your having a bilious attack before."
"I don't often," said Aldred, who, indeed, was seldom troubled with
illness of any kind.
"I'll ask Mother if she can give you some medicine. You must get well by
to-morrow! We couldn't possibly go to Evington without you. Think how
disappointed Cousin Marion would be--and so should I, for I'm looking
forward so much to taking you!"
In spite of herself, Aldred could not stifle a groan of despair.
"Do you really feel so poorly? Are you in pain? Perhaps we ought to send
for the doctor. I'll go and fetch Mother immediately; she's a splendid
nurse."
"No, no! Please don't!" cried Aldred. "I dare say I shall be better
soon. I don't want to make a fuss, and upset everybody."
"You never do that, you're too unselfish and considerate. I know how ill
you must feel, to mention it at all. I hope it's nothing serious!" and
Mabel rushed off in quite a fever of excitement and alarm, to fetch her
mother.
Lady Muriel was kindness itself.
"I expect you are a little overdone, dear child," she said. "We have
been working you rather hard at sight-seeing, and perhaps letting you
stay up too late. After the regular hours at school, the holidays are
sometimes apt to upset young people. If your head aches, wouldn't you
like to go to your bedroom, and rest quite quietly?"
"Yes, please," said Aldred.
She was devoutly thankful for the suggestion. Her one longing was to be
alone, so that she might realize the blow that threatened her, and plan
some means of averting it. Mabel's well-meant sympathy was almost agony
in the circumstances; all she wanted was time to collect her thoughts.
It was with a sense of intense relief, therefore, that she allowed
herself to be put to lie down in her room. Lady Muriel drew the dark
curtains across the window, rang for a siphon of soda water, and, having
done everything in her power for the comfort of her young guest, took
her departure, bearing with her the reluctant Mabel.
"Couldn't I just stay in the room, in case Aldred wants anything?" the
latter pleaded. "I wouldn't speak a word."
"No, no! Aldred must be left quiet. If she can go to sleep, she may
possibly feel better in the afternoon."
For once Aldred was quite glad to be rid of her friend. She hoped no one
would disturb her for a long while, for she wished thoroughly to review
the situation. This was indeed a catastrophe! A visit to Cousin
Marion!--Cousin Marion, who would be sure to remember the appearance of
the girl she had seen on the pier at Seaforth, and would realize in a
moment that the two were not the same. She would no doubt express
surprise at the difference, then questions would be asked, and the whole
of the wretched affair would have to come out. It meant a complete
exposure, and what the sequel would be Aldred dreaded even to imagine.
"They would call me a hypocrite and a deceiver, and so I am!" she
thought bitterly. "I couldn't stay any longer in the house. I should be
obliged to go home immediately; and what excuse could I give to Aunt
Bertha for cutting short my visit? She would insist upon worrying the
truth from me, and I should get into equal trouble at home. Keith would
hear, and he would never forgive me. I don't believe I could even return
to Birkwood, if all the girls at school were to know about it too."
She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, and that at
any moment the frail ground might give way under her feet, and plunge
her into the depths of the abyss. "Cousin Marion" seemed her evil
genius; from the very first Aldred had been haunted by the fear of this
meeting. It was wrong to wish people ill, but she regretted with all her
heart that the German spa had effected so speedy a cure, and that the
doctor had given permission for the invalid to return to England.
"I've been practising a fraud for the last eight months," she groaned,
burying her face in the pillow. "I'll allow that much to myself, though
I'll try to hide it from everyone else."
The agony she was enduring made her really feverish, for distress of
mind is often far harder to bear than pain of body. She had gained all
she wanted--popularity at school, a complete hold upon Mabel's
affection, and a permanent invitation to a house where it was an honour
to be received as a guest. And now, must all this be lost? The
friendship had grown so necessary to her that she felt she could not
live without it, and the prospect of estrangement and cold looks was
appalling. At any cost she must manage to avoid this fatal expedition to
Evington. She would sham illness, and ask to remain in her bedroom, so
that they could not possibly include her in the party. To be sure, she
would miss everything that was going on; but that was nothing, in
comparison with the horror of an introduction to "Cousin Marion".
"If she comes over here, and asks to see me, I must have something
infectious!" thought Aldred. "I wonder if I could rub anything on me to
bring out a rash? Nettles might do it, only I can't go out to pick them.
Was any wretched girl ever in such a desperate strait?"
She had had so little experience of ill health that it was rather
difficult for her to feign symptoms. She had mentioned biliousness to
Mabel on the spur of the moment, as it was the first idea that came into
her head; but she had rarely suffered from an attack. She remembered,
however, that it included a bad headache, and a disinclination to
consume anything except soda water and biscuits.
"I shan't dare to touch proper meals, no matter how hungry I am," she
reflected. "I expect I shall be nearly starving before to-morrow is
over. I wish now I had said I had a sore throat, and then perhaps they
would have been afraid of influenza, and have isolated me at once. Oh,
dear! Mabel's tennis party is to be this afternoon, and I shall have to
stop here and lose all the fun. Francis Farrington asked me to be his
partner, and he plays so well that I'm sure we should have beaten all
the others!"
She was shedding hot, bitter tears, not so much of regret for the long
months of deception as of chagrin for the pleasure she must needs forgo.
She was sorry, indeed, for the course she had taken, but it was not real
repentance, only a wish to escape disagreeable consequences. Aldred had
much to learn yet before she could set the desire for right above the
love of approbation, or practise truth for its own sake.
When Lady Muriel and Mabel came to see her, about one o'clock, they
found her with red eyes, a flushed face, and a genuine headache.
"You must lie still," said Lady Muriel, after feeling her hot hands.
"You seem quite feverish, and mustn't on any account try to get up and
race about at tennis; it would be the worst thing possible for you. I'm
so grieved about it, dear!"
"It's most disappointing!" echoed Mabel. "I should like to stay and
spend the afternoon with you, only it would be so rude to the other
visitors. Perhaps I can keep running in between the sets."
"No, don't!" protested Aldred. "You're indispensable, and will be needed
out-of-doors all the time. You mustn't bother about me."
At present she much preferred her friend's absence. She was afraid she
might not be able to play her part adequately, and that the loving,
watchful eyes might discover how little she really ailed. Mabel also
would be sure to talk of nothing but her Cousin Marion, in the
circumstances the most unpalatable topic possible.
There was no lunch for Aldred that day; she ate three biscuits, the
utmost limit she felt she dared allow herself, and drank some soda
water. She longed for roast beef and potatoes, but knew that an invalid
who could demand such solid fare would scarcely receive credence.
"I suppose I can hold out until to-morrow evening," she thought, "but
after that I shall be obliged to confess to an appetite."
She spent an extremely dull afternoon, listening wistfully to the sound
of voices wafted from the tennis lawn. There were no books in her room,
and she had not liked to ask for one, lest the request should be taken
as a sign of her recovery. She was virtually a prisoner, and though her
solitary confinement was self-constituted, it was no less wearisome on
that account. She was able to indulge in a cup of weak tea and a slice
of thin, dry toast at four o'clock, but her supper was as unsatisfying
as her lunch, and she felt nearly famished when her solicitous hostess,
after performing every possible kind service, finally left her arranged
for the night.
Oh, how she yearned to get up next morning, and present herself at the
breakfast table! It seemed intolerable to be obliged to spend another
day in bed on starvation diet, but she was forced to restrain herself,
and to look subdued and suffering when her attentive friends paid their
early visit.
"I hoped you would feel better to-day," said Lady Muriel, with real
concern in her voice. "I shall telephone for Dr. Rawlins, and ask him to
call and see you first thing, before he begins his rounds. I feel
responsible to your father for you, and it is well to be wise in time."
In spite of Aldred's protestations, Lady Muriel insisted upon sending
for the doctor, who came promptly in response to her message. He
examined his patient carefully, took her temperature, felt her pulse,
and made her put out her tongue. He looked at her so attentively, and
with such keen eyes, that Aldred could not help turning rather red. Did
he know, she wondered, that she was only shamming, and was he going to
denounce her as a humbug? His expression, however, was inscrutable, and
after asking her several questions, to which she gave reluctant replies,
he turned to Lady Muriel.
"I think you have no cause for uneasiness," he said. "It is merely a
slight, temporary indisposition, which will soon pass. I will make up a
bottle of medicine that ought to do her good."
"Mr. Farrington feared it might be motor sickness," observed Lady
Muriel. "We have taken her about so much in the car, and the motion
certainly affects some people."
Aldred caught at the suggestion as a drowning man clutches at a straw.
"Yes, it must be that. I'm sure it would make me sick to go in the motor
again," she volunteered eagerly, raising herself on her elbow in her
excitement, but sinking back languidly on to the pillow as she caught
the doctor's contemplative eye.
"We wished very much to take her to Evington to-day, but I'm afraid
she's not fit for it, poor dear child!" continued Lady Muriel.
"Let her stop at home, then," replied Dr. Rawlins, whose tone was hardly
so sympathetic. "There is not the slightest need, however, for anyone
else to stay on her account. She is much better left alone, and I forbid
Mabel to come into her room until this evening."
"I should scarcely like to leave her," objected Lady Muriel anxiously.
"It is such a responsibility to have the charge of someone else's
daughter!"
"Install one of the housemaids as nurse, to see that she takes her
medicine. No, Lady Muriel! As your physician, I insist that you go out
for some fresh air. I have your health to consider as well as that of
your young guest. She'll be in no danger while you are away."
The medicine arrived shortly after the doctor's departure--much too
soon, in Aldred's opinion. It was a huge bottle, and was labelled: "Two
tablespoonfuls to be taken every two hours". Anything more absolutely
disgusting Aldred had never tasted; it seemed a combined mixture of
every disagreeable drug in the pharmacopoeia. Burke, an elderly
servant, had been placed on duty in the sick-room, and informed her
patient that she had received express orders from Dr. Rawlins himself
not to omit a single dose.
"He told me most particularly, miss, that you were to have it," she
announced, in reply to Aldred's violent objections. "He said it was most
important, and if I couldn't get you to take it I was to telephone for
him, and he'd come himself and make you!"
Aldred swallowed her nauseous draught at a gulp. She was not anxious to
receive another professional visit. She had gathered from the doctor's
manner that he diagnosed the nature of the case, though he did not care
to offend Lady Muriel by expounding his opinion. It was ill-natured of
him, the girl thought, to give her so severe a punishment; he could not
understand her motives, and he might have treated her with more
consideration. The one redeeming point of the medicine was that it
utterly spoilt her appetite, and took away all desire for food; and she
was enabled to show a genuine lack of interest in the beef-tea and jelly
that were sent up for her.
Another long, long day dragged itself out. Aldred was in the very lowest
of low spirits. She had ventured to beg for a book, but Burke promptly
replied that the doctor had forbidden either reading or conversation,
and had recommended her to keep perfectly quiet. So there was nothing
for it but to lie with half-closed eyes, listening to the everlasting
click of Burke's knitting needles, an irritating sound in itself, and
made worse by its monotony. Aldred counted the spots on the muslin
blinds and the roses on the chintz bed curtains, and tried to imagine
faces in the pattern of the wall paper; she recited in her mind every
piece of poetry that she knew, and as much as she could remember of the
play the girls had acted at Christmas. She was even reduced to repeating
French verbs, to relieve her utter boredom; and hardly knew whether to
be glad or apprehensive when Mabel paid her a visit at seven o'clock.
"We've had a glorious afternoon," said the latter. "The road was free,
so we spun along, and got to Evington in an hour and a half. Cousin
Marion was so delighted to see us! She'd have been very disappointed if
we hadn't gone."
"I'm so glad you did!" put in Aldred.
"But she was fearfully disappointed not to see you, darling, and so
sorry when we told her you were ill. We talked about you for quite a
long time. Didn't your ears burn this afternoon?"
"I didn't notice."
"Well, I'm sure they ought to have done so. I won't tell you all we
said, because you don't like to be praised, but you'd have been very
flattered if you'd heard. Cousin Marion remembers you quite distinctly."
"I shouldn't know her."
"I dare say not; you wouldn't notice her particularly at Seaforth. By
the by--isn't it absurd?--Cousin Marion actually thought you had
sisters!"
"Why should she suppose so?" Aldred's voice was uneasy.
"She said they were with you, and so like you--one a little older, and
the other younger."
"How ridiculous!"
"Yes, I told her you are the only girl. Perhaps you had some friends
with you at the concert?"
"I expect I had. I really can't remember now."
"And another funny thing: she said she was sure your name was Mary."
"So it is, Aldred Mary, after my mother," replied Aldred, thankful to be
able to say what was really the case, though she knew her truth was only
further aiding her deception.
"That explains it, of course. I suppose the newspaper forgot the
'Aldred', and simply put 'Miss Mary Laurence'. Newspaper reporters often
make mistakes."
"So do other people," thought Aldred, though she did not say it aloud.
"We were so anxious for Cousin Marion to come over to Grassingford,"
continued Mabel. "Mother wanted to bring her home with us this
afternoon, to stay for a few days, but she wouldn't be persuaded. She
says her doctor has forbidden her to motor."
"Then won't she be coming at all?" Aldred tried to speak unconcernedly,
but she could not quite banish the anxiety from her tone.
"Ah, I knew you wanted to see her! No, dear, I'm sorry to say it's
impossible. She's still too great an invalid to take more than a gentle
little drive in a landau. She might have come by train, but she decided
that it would be too much for her. I'm afraid you won't meet her now, as
we go back to school on Wednesday."
So the danger was over! The relief was so intense that Aldred had to
bury her face in the pillow to hide her feelings. Her ruse had been
successful, and for the present, at any rate, she might consider herself
safe.
"I've tired you out!" exclaimed Mabel self-reproachfully. "I might have
remembered your poor head. How stupid and thoughtless I am! Good night,
darling! I've missed you terribly all to-day. It will be absolute bliss
when you're yourself again."
When Dr. Rawlins arrived next morning, he found that his bottle of
medicine had been like the quack nostrums advertised in the newspapers,
and had worked a lightning cure.
"I knew it would have a beneficial effect," he remarked, with a twinkle
in his eye that only Aldred understood.
"Then you think she may really come downstairs, Doctor?" asked Lady
Muriel, who was still a little worried.
"Most decidedly! There's nothing to prevent it. The sooner she's out in
the fresh air the better. A game of tennis would be the best tonic I can
prescribe. Her medicine? Oh, well, she's so wonderfully improved that
I'll excuse her from finishing the bottle! She might keep it, in case
she's ever troubled with the same symptoms again."
"Isn't he nice?" said Mabel enthusiastically afterwards. "I always like
Dr. Rawlins so much. I think he's the kindest man I know. I often say
it's almost worth while being ill, to have him come to see one. And he's
simply enormously clever!"
"He certainly seems to cure his patients quickly," replied Aldred, with
doubtful gratitude.