When the twelve o’clock train stopped at the station next morning two
passengers got out--a little old lady dressed with Quaker-like neatness,
and a tall, grizzled, sunburnt man with a breezy, open-air look about him.
Tom and the Rector were both waiting on the platform, and hurried up to
them. There was good news.
“Your granddaughter is better, Mrs. Smith,” the Rector said in his kind
voice. “But she may not know you. You must not be alarmed at that. The
doctor is much more hopeful this morning, and she calls continually for
you. We trust it may soothe her to have you near her.”
The tears were streaming fast over Mrs. Smith’s wrinkled face. “Polly
would never have no one but me to nurse her,” she said. “She was always
like that from a baby. I came off the first minute I could. Mr. Smith
wasn’t able to leave the shop, but Mr. Harding came with me. I’ve never
travelled alone in my life, and I’d have lost my way sure enough without
him. Mr. Harding’s from Australia, sir,” she added, looking at Tom, whom
she had identified as Mr. Merivale. “And he’d be glad to see Miss Sampson
if she’s still with Miss Merivale supposing ‘twas convenient.”
“I am going back to Woodcote now,” Tom said, looking at Mr. Harding. He
had started violently at the first mention of his name by Mrs. Smith, but
he spoke coolly enough. “Will you walk back with me? My aunt will be very
glad to see you. Miss Sampson is now at the Rectory, but I am going to
fetch her and my sister after lunch.”
The Rector’s trap was waiting outside, and Mrs. Smith was soon comfortably
settled in it. She was too simple and homely to be shy, and it was plain
both to the Rector and Tom that her distress at Pauline’s accident was
largely mingled with delight at the prospect of having her to nurse. She
spoke with eagerness to the Rector as they drove off of the time when she
could take Polly back with her to Leyton.
“She’s a good sort,” Mr. Harding said, as he and Tom turned to walk up the
hill. “I hope her Polly will soon be better. She is a governess, isn’t
she? Price told me she didn’t spend much time with the old folks.”
Tom did not feel called upon to answer this. He was determined to find out
at once how much Mr. Harding knew about Rhoda’s father and mother. “My
aunt and I were talking about you yesterday, Mr. Harding, but we had no
idea that you were in England.”
Mr. Harding turned his keen black eyes upon him. “No, I only landed last
week.”
“My aunt has some reason to believe that Miss Sampson is related to her,”
Tom hurried on. “You knew her father well, I believe?”
Mr. Harding’s answer was emphatic. “I should say I did, sir. Poor old Jack
and I were boys together. Why, he married a cousin of mine, as good as a
sister. And we should have been partners now if he hadn’t died. Some
people never understood Jack, and after Jenny died he got queerer than
ever; but he and I never had a cloud between us.”
Tom had stopped still in the road. The ground seemed to be swaying under
his feet, and something caught him in the throat so that he could scarcely
speak. “Was your cousin Rhoda’s mother?” he asked.
“Yes; she was their only child. I knew she was safe and happy with the
M’Alisters, or I would have looked after her more. I’ve no chick nor child
of my own, and I mean Rhoda to have a big slice of what I’ve got to
leave.”
Tom did not catch the last words clearly. “My aunt’s sister married a Mr.
James Sampson,” he hurried to say. “Was he related to Miss Sampson’s
father?”
“Ah, that was Jim. He got lost in the bush, poor fellow. He had his girl
with him. Yes, he was Jack’s brother. They lived close together in
Melbourne. I fancy Rhoda was named after Jim’s little girl. They were
about the same age; but Jenny died when Rhoda was a year old, and Jack
left Melbourne for Adelaide.”
When Tom and Mr. Harding reached the house, he went hastily in search of
his aunt. He found her in her own room, her eyes dim with weeping. She
started up at the sight of his face.
“Oh, Tom, what have you come to tell me?”
In a few rapid words he made her understand. “You see how your mistake
arose, Aunt Lucy. They both had the same name, Rhoda and Cousin Lydia’s
little girl. And Cousin Lydia must have given that locket to Rhoda’s
mother or to Rhoda’s father for her when they left Melbourne. But come
down and speak to Mr. Harding. There is no need for him to know the
mistake you fell into. Let us forget it, Aunt Lucy.”
At this, Miss Merivale’s tears began to flow afresh. “Oh, Tom, I have told
Rhoda.”
“You told her? Why did you? I thought we had decided to wait till I had
seen Thomson.”
“Tom, I could not help it. She was so miserable, poor child. She tried to
hide it, but she could not hide it from me. She thought she had offended
you. I do not know what she thought. How could you treat her so
differently? Do you think you will get her to forgive you?”
A glimmer of a smile showed itself in Miss Merivale’s eyes as she spoke.
But Tom could not smile yet.
“Well, you told her,” he said. “Did she believe you?”
“I don’t know. But she declared that nothing would induce her to claim her
rights if she had any. She said there were no proofs, and if she had them
she would not produce them. She spoke very strongly, Tom.”
Tom made no answer for a moment. “She has gone to the Rectory?” he said
then.
“Yes, she was anxious to go. But she is going to walk home across the
downs. I think she was anxious to avoid you, Tom. No wonder! How could you
make her so unhappy?”
Tom did not point out that he had been far more unhappy, and that it was
all Miss Merivale’s fault. He looked at his aunt, giving her now back
smile for smile. “Aunt Lucy, will you go and fetch Rose?” he said.
Rose was delighted to see her aunt in the carriage when she ran out to
meet it.
“Rhoda did not think you would be able to come, Aunt Lucy. Were you very
much frightened when you heard about it? Poor Rhoda looks quite ill But
Pauline is really better. She has slept since her grandmother came. She
knew her directly, and has held her hand tight ever since. Poor old lady,
she is so fond of her.”
“I wish we could move her to Woodcote,” Miss Merivale said. “I must speak
to the doctor about it. I will go and see Mrs. Prance for a moment, Rosie
darling. And then we will go home. Oh, my darling, I am so thankful!”
She held Rose close to her, and kissed her once or twice before she let
her go. Till that moment she had hardly been able to realise her happiness
in having Rose safe.
Rose began to talk again of Pauline as they were driving home. “How
strange she could be so silent about her grandmother and yet be so fond
of her, Aunt Lucy! Or do you think that she is only fond of her when she
wants her? She was calling for her over and over again all last night.”
“I expect she is really fond of her, dear. As fond as she can be of
anybody. I don’t wish to speak harshly of her, Rose, and we will do all
we can for her. But you must not live with her again. Not because her
grandmother is Mrs. Smith,” added Miss Merivale quickly, afraid that Rose
might misunderstand her. “It isn’t that. Rhoda’s people are in the same
rank of life as the Smiths, yet Rhoda is a true gentlewoman.”
“Aunt Lucy, I could not live with Pauline again,” Rose said earnestly.
“Besides, I want to live at home. I believe I shall loathe the thought of
a flat as long as I live. Pauline has effectually cured me of my desire to
live in one.”
“She and Mrs. Smith must come to stay with us as soon as she can be
moved,” Miss Merivale said. “Perhaps this illness will make her see
things differently, Rosie. Let us hope so.”
“Rhoda knew all the time,” Rose said, after a moment’s pause. “Poor
Pauline, how angry she would have been if she had guessed it! If I had
been Rhoda, I should have told her.”
“We should not have known where to telegraph if it had not been for Rhoda.
Her uncle--Mr. M’Alister’s brother, I mean--has a shop next door to Mr.
Price. It was he who told Mr. Harding that Rhoda was with us. I fancy he
was rather distressed to find that she was not with Mrs. M’Alister. But I
think I have convinced him that we have taken good care of her.”
Tom and Mr. Harding were outside the porch together when the carriage drew
up. While Mr. Harding talked to Rose, Tom drew his aunt aside.
“Aunt Lucy, will you go up to Rhoda?” he whispered.
She gave him one shining look, and went quickly in.
Rhoda had heard the carriage enter, and was standing in the middle of the
room when Miss Merivale softly knocked and entered. There was a tremulous,
eager, anxious look in the girl’s face. Happy as she was, she could not be
quite happy till she was sure Miss Merivale was content.
But it was only a tiny shadow of doubt that clouded the brightness, and
when Miss Merivale clasped her close, and kissed her as fondly and
tenderly as she had kissed Rose a little while before, it nearly all fled
away.
“My dear, I am delighted,” Miss Merivale said, with happy tears in her
voice. “Tom has always been like a son to me, and now you will be my
daughter.”
“And you are not sorry you asked me here?” Rhoda whispered. She felt she
must ask the question once.
“Ask Tom if he thinks I am sorry,” returned Miss Merivale, kissing her
again. And this was answer enough. Rhoda doubted no more.
End of Project Gutenberg’s Miss Merivale’s Mistake, by Mrs. Henry Clarke