DOUBT
“I never heard a more unlikely story in my life, Tory darling; it
certainly can have nothing to do with me! I don’t see how you and
Dorothy can possibly regard it seriously. Oh, well, perhaps I can see
that _you_ would seize upon any straw and let your imagination do
the rest! You always have been so determined to find me a thrilling
background. But, Dorothy, _you_ are a much more matter-of-fact person
and don’t really believe this Mr. Moore has any connection with me.”
The three girls were driving along Riverside, not in a car, but
actually in an old-fashioned carriage, which Mr. Fenton had obtained
with great difficulty.
Kara was well enough to be in need of fresh air and a change of
environment. Her two friends thought she appeared frailer than when
they had last seen her during the Christmas holidays, but in a happier
state of mind. So they had chosen to confide their piece of news not
inside her small hospital room, but during a quiet drive along the
river.
At first it appeared a problem to divert Kara’s attention from the
beauty of the Palisades, smoke-gray and violet in the afternoon light,
from her interest in the cars passing and repassing, from the boats
moving slowly or swiftly up and down the broad expanse of water.
A faint color came into her cheeks, her eyes were growing more humorous
and less wistful. Neither of her companions wished to intrude a serious
subject of conversation upon her mood.
“Surely, you have been out driving before, haven’t you, Kara? You have
been well enough to be out of doors for several weeks. Can’t you pay
more attention to us and less to the scenery?” Tory demanded finally,
fearing the drive might be at an end and they forced to separate before
their story could be told.
Kara smiled with the wide gray eyes that were her chief beauty.
“Of course I have been driving before! Mr. and Mrs. Hammond and Lucy
have taken me several times in their car. Once, not long ago, Lance
actually appeared in a taxicab which he said he had the privilege of
using for two hours. He told me the friend who had been so kind to him
wished him to invite me for a ride through Central Park. Lance wanted
to talk of the wonderful chance he thought might be coming to him.”
The opening had seemed propitious. Tory nodded at Dorothy to ask her
advice.
Then observing that Kara was laughing at them both, she hesitated.
Dorothy made no pretence of introducing the subject. She and Tory had
agreed that it was wiser for Tory to give an outline of the situation,
with Dorothy to corroborate and add convincing details that otherwise
might be forgotten.
Between her two friends upon the low, broad seat of an old-fashioned
vehicle which resembled a victoria, a favorite equipage of bygone days,
Kara now slipped her hand inside theirs.
“Do you suppose I have had a drive I have enjoyed like this with both
of you beside me? But, Tory dear, please tell me what it is you wish to
say. I hope you may never have any _very_ important secret to conceal,
you are so transparent! This afternoon I don’t mind hearing, as from
your expression I am sure it is something exciting. So I can listen
and look at our surroundings at the same time, can’t I?”
“No, Kara, you must give me your undivided attention,” Tory replied, so
solemnly that the other girl was silenced. A slight wave of what might
have suggested regret passed over her face.
Life had been so full of serious things these past six months, she had
wanted one happy afternoon, when she might forget.
During the long recital she had asked a few questions and at this
instant had uttered her innermost conviction.
“I believe you are mistaken, Kara. When you see Mr. Moore you will feel
differently. He is very quiet and seems to dislike meeting strangers
and having to discuss his private affairs. He declares that the thought
of having failed to keep his promise, and knowing nothing of the little
girl he was to care for all these years, has made him more of a recluse
than he might otherwise have been. As a matter of fact, father says he
is convinced at last that Mr. Moore is telling the truth. He has seen
his lawyer and learned that he is a member of a distinguished family
and has the reputation for being extremely cultured and generous.
Certainly his kindness to Lance might have convinced father without
further investigation! I really believe that father, without realizing
the fact, is a little jealous because Mr. Moore has been able to do for
Lance what he could not afford, and Lance adores him!” Dorothy McClain
interposed, observing that Tory appeared crestfallen at the fashion in
which Kara had received the amazing story.
“Yes, I understand, Dorothy. I am not in the least venturing to dispute
Mr. Moore’s account of what he thinks occurred so many years ago. I
only very seriously doubt that I have any part in it. I presume there
are hundreds of other children who are as likely to be the girl he is
seeking.” Kara’s tone lacked entire conviction.
“Please don’t say what you really know isn’t true, Kara!” Tory
protested, with more irritability than she realized. She had been
tremendously keyed up over the problem of imparting the extraordinary
situation to the other girl. She could not help being annoyed by Kara’s
calm dismissal of its importance.
“It is absurd to pretend that the fact the name ‘Katherine Moore’
was pinned to your dress, when you were discovered, does not help
in identifying you. Mr. Moore says that your mother asked that you
be called by his name. He spoke of you as Katherine before any one
thought of mentioning the one thing that _is known_ concerning you.
Is it that you do not want what we have told you to be true, Kara? To
deny that you are the girl Mr. Moore is searching for is ridiculous.
He has undeniable proof that Westhaven is between twenty and thirty
miles from the farm where he found you and your mother. The evergreen
cabin is along the route to the station where he took the train for
Boston. Mr. Moore believes that he realized he was ill and started out
to find some one to look after you. He must have grown worse, because
he knew nothing for several weeks. Then he found himself in a hospital
in Boston. Dr. McClain says this often occurs in illness. Mr. Moore
had intended going to Boston and must have gotten on board the train.
Afterwards people on the train took charge of him; they found his name
and address from letters in his pocket. He was an old bachelor with no
close relatives and had confided to no one where he had gone, but his
friends were looking after him when he recovered consciousness.”
“Yes, Tory, you seem to have arranged everything satisfactorily, as
if you had been writing a mystery story and had carefully gathered up
all the clews! May I be allowed to say that I would like to have it
explained to me why a package of letters were given to me at the end of
last summer found in the old fireplace at the evergreen cottage? Did
the eccentric old bachelor dispose of the letters in the same fashion
he got rid of me?”
“Then you confess you were the child, Kara?” Tory interrupted. “Don’t
attempt to pretend you do not think so after what you have said.”
“But I am _not_ convinced. I think it is all very tiresome and absurd
and I wish you had never told me. After all, suppose it is true and I
am the girl, he is no relative of mine! I prefer the Gray House and my
friends in Westhaven. I don’t wish to have anything to do with this Mr.
Moore. Dr. McClain says I may be well in a year or so and then I shall
be able to take care of myself.”
A second time Tory was beginning to protest and reproach Kara for
her unreasonable attitude, but a warning glance from Dorothy McClain
restrained her.
Kara’s color, her cheerful expression had vanished. She was white and
exhausted.
“If you don’t mind, I think I would like to go back to the hospital; I
am tired all of a sudden,” she remarked.
Tory was frightened.
She had insisted that Kara be told the peculiar circumstances she had
just related, arguing that she would receive the information in her
usual sensible and matter-of-fact fashion.
Kara had been through too much suffering and anxiety since her accident
the summer before to have any new problem presented to her. Should they
have waited until she was stronger? Tory was not sure.
She put her arm about the slender figure.
“Do try not to think any more of what we have been talking about for
the present, Kara. It is my fault, I wanted you to hear. If you don’t
like Mr. Moore you need not have anything to do with him. You have
friends enough if he never had been heard of! I shall hate it if he
does more for you than we can. Just the same I think you had best know
that Mr. Moore has seen the letters. Mr. Hammond showed them to him.
They were ordinary friendly letters he had written your mother from
time to time, not important, and thinks he must have thrown them into
the fire with the idea of burning them. There is no question that the
letters were written by him, as his handwriting is exactly the same.”
“Do you think it my duty to see this Mr. Moore, Dorothy? I know what
Tory will say,” Kara inquired when they were within a block of their
destination. “Can you imagine anything more disappointing than for a
man of the kind Lance describes, cultured, musical, of a distinguished
family, to have to devote any time or thought to so insignificant a
person as I am? There is _one_ consolation, he is sure to like me even
less than I shall like him.”
“I would not trouble. I would not see Mr. Moore for the present, Kara
dear,” Dorothy answered in a calm and reassuring tone. “In any case you
must talk the matter over with father before you decide. He is coming
to see you after dinner to-night, as he must return to Westhaven in the
morning. If you do conclude to see Mr. Moore, why, I would not for days
and days until I was in exactly the right mood.”