RUTH'S SECRET.
Dr. Roberts spoke so heartily and confidently that Aaron's anxiety was
relieved, and the counsel that Rachel should be told nothing that was
likely to disturb her was something like a reprieve, as it prevented
him from precipitating matters. A few days were still left for
reflection, and he went forth to his public duties with a lighter
heart.
Esther, meanwhile, was busy for some time attending to Rachel, who
wished the young girl to remain with her till she was asleep. With
Ruth's letter in her pocket, which had been delivered almost
clandestinely at the house, and which she was enjoined to read when
she was alone, she was compelled to bridle her impatience. She did not
dare to speak of it to Rachel, and the course the conversation took in
the bedroom did not tend to compose her. Rachel spoke only of family
matters, of her husband and children, and presently the conversation
drifted entirely to the subject of Ruth.
"Young girls," said Rachel, "confide in each other. There is a true
affection between you, is there not, my dear?"
"Yes," replied Esther, wondering what was coming, and dreading it.
"It happens sometimes," continued Rachel, with a sigh, "that parents
do not entirely win their children's confidence. Joseph has not a
secret from me. Do you think Ruth is quite happy, my dear?"
"I think so," said Esther.
"I am not asking you to break a confidence she may have reposed in
you----"
Esther could not refrain from interrupting her.
"But, dear mother, I know nothing."
As she uttered the words a guilty feeling stole over her. What did the
letter in her pocket contain?
Rachel drew the girl's face to hers, and caressed her.
"Now it is you," she said, "who are speaking as if you are in trouble.
I am very inconsiderate; but love has its pains as well as its joys.
You have no trouble, Esther?"
"None, dear mother. I am perfectly happy."
"See how mistaken I am; and I hope I am mistaken also about Ruth. I
feared that she had some secret which she was concealing from me.
Blind people are suspicious, and breed trouble for themselves and
others."
"Not you, dear mother," said Esther, kissing her. "Now you must go to
sleep. This is quite against the doctor's orders."
Rachel smiled and yielded. She took pleasure in being led by those she
loved.
In the solitude of her chamber Esther read the letter.
"Darling Esther,--
"I am in great trouble, and you must help me. You are the only friend
I have in the world----but no, I must not say that; it is not true.
What I mean is, you are the only friend at home I can trust.
"Father and mother, and you, too, think I am in Portsmouth with your
family. Dear Esther, I am in London; I have been in London all the
week. The happiness of my life is in your hands; remember that.
"I went down to Portsmouth, but I only stayed two days. I told your
father I had to pay a visit to other friends, and he believed me. And
now I hear he is in London, and of course will come to the house. He
is the only person you may tell; you must beg him not to say a word
about my going from Portsmouth; you must make him promise; you don't
know what depends upon it. Speak to him quietly, and say he must not
betray me; he will do anything for you.
"Dear, darling Esther, I have a secret that I cannot disclose yet. I
will soon--perhaps to-morrow, perhaps in a week; I cannot fix a time,
because it does not depend upon me. But remember my happiness is in
your hands.
"Your loving
"Ruth."
The young girl was bewildered and distressed by this communication.
They had all believed that Ruth was on a visit to Esther's family, and
Esther had received letters from her with the Portsmouth postmark on
them. It was true that Ruth had asked her, as a particular favour, not
to reply to the letters, and though Esther considered it a strange
request, she had complied with it. Ruth's stronger will always
prevailed with her. But what did it all mean? If Ruth had been in
London a week, where was she stopping? Esther's character could hardly
as yet be said to be formed: it was sweet, but it lacked decision, and
now that she was called upon to act in a matter of importance she
looked helplessly round, as if for guidance. She was glad when Prissy
knocked at her door and said that her father was downstairs. Part of
the responsibility seemed to be already lifted from her shoulders.
"Prissy," she said, before she went down, "you haven't spoken to
anybody about the letter?"
"No, miss."
"Don't say anything about it, please. Mrs. Cohen is not well, and the
doctor is very particular that she shall not be bothered or worried."
"I won't say anything, miss." She shook her head gravely as Esther
tripped downstairs, and muttered, "Trouble's coming, or my name ain't
what it is."
"I am so glad you are here, father," said Esther; "I have something to
tell you."
"I have something to tell _you_," said Mr. Moss. "Such an odd
impression! Of course I must be mistaken. But first I want to know how
Mrs. Cohen is. I thought she was not looking strong to-day."
Esther told him of the doctor's visit and the instructions he had
given, and then handed him Ruth's letter, which he read in silence.
"I don't like the look of it," he said. "I hate mystery, and I cannot
decide immediately whether it ought to be kept from Mr. Cohen."
"Oh, father," cried Esther, "Ruth will never forgive me if I betray
her."
"I don't think it is a question of betrayal," said Mr. Moss. "She
tells you to speak to me, and you have done so. I take the blame on
myself, whatever happens. My dear, you are not old enough to
understand such matters, and you must leave this to me. The letter
will be better in my keeping than in yours. Just consider, Esther;
would you have behaved so?"
"No, father, I could not."
"There is the answer. The odd impression I spoke of was that I saw
Ruth to-night in a hansom cab. I thought I was mistaken, but now I am
convinced it was she. If I had known what I know now I should have
followed her. As to Ruth never forgiving you, what will Mr. Cohen's
feelings be towards you when he discovers that you have acted in a
treacherous manner towards him and his wife? Ruth is very little older
than yourself, and I am afraid cannot discriminate between right and
wrong; she must not be allowed to drag us into a conspiracy against
the peace of the family."
Esther was dismayed; she had not looked upon it in this light.
"Was Ruth alone?" she asked, in a faltering voice.
"No, she had a gentleman with her. It is a bad business--a bad
business. I intended to return to Portsmouth to-morrow, but now I
shall remain till the matter is cleared up."
"Shall you speak to Mr. Cohen to-night, father?"
"No. I shall do nothing till the morning; I must have time to consider
how to act. Mr. Cohen will not be home till past midnight, and he will
be completely tired out with the fatigues of the day. To think that it
should turn out so! Good-night, my dear child. Get to bed, and try to
sleep. Things may turn out better than we expect, after all."
But despite that hope Mr. Moss, when he left Aaron's house, could find
nothing more cheerful to occupy his mind than the _Miserere_ from "Il
Trovatore," which he hummed dolefully as he trudged through the
streets. There was very little sleep for his daughter on this night,
and very little also for Aaron Cohen. The cloud that was gathering was
too ominous for repose.