"SOMEBODY'S CRUTCH."
"Of all the paths that lead to a woman's love
Pity's the straightest."--_Beaumont and Fletcher_.
One afternoon in October Olivia sat at her work in the front parlour.
She was expecting Greta to join her, and more than once she had looked
at the clock on the mantelpiece as though wondering at her lateness.
The folding-doors were open; the young couple had taken advantage of
their improved circumstances to add to their scanty stock of furniture.
The dining-table and mahogany chairs bought second-hand in Dr.
Luttrell's bachelor days and the small, ugly chiffonier had been moved
into the smaller and duller back room, and the front parlour had been
transformed into a dainty sitting-room. Greta's skilful fingers and
good taste had been placed at her friend's service. To gratify
Marcus's love of comfort two really handsome saddle-back chairs were
beside the fireplace, and a little round table occupied the centre of
the room. A second-hand writing-table with drawers had been picked up
in the city as a great bargain and appropriated for Marcus's use. Over
it hung the sketch of Dot and the kitten, long ago presented by the
grateful artist. The pretty blue carpet and curtains gave an air of
finish.
By Marcus's desire the folding-doors were always kept open, and Olivia
no longer felt herself stifled for want of air. This afternoon the
little sitting-room looked at its best. A bowl of dark-red cactus
dahlias stood on the table, an offering from Alwyn, and a magnificent
_Lilium auratum_, a gift from Greta, blocked up the dining-room window.
When the door-bell rang Olivia laid down her work with a pleased smile,
and the next moment Greta entered the room.
"How late you are, you naughty girl," she said, kissing her
affectionately. "I have been sewing for the last hour."
"Yes, I know; something unforeseen detained me," and then Greta dropped
her eyes in sudden embarrassment and blushed. "Oh, Olive dear, can you
guess what I have to tell you this afternoon?" and then Olivia looked
at her steadily.
"Do you mean," she began, anxiously--but Greta, blushing still more
rosily, interrupted her, "Yes, I do mean it; and, Olive, dear friend,
truest of friends, you must congratulate me, for I am so happy."
"You take my breath away, Greta. Are you and Alwyn actually engaged?"
"Yes, dear, we settled it this afternoon; but, of course--of course, I
have known for weeks what he meant and wished. He has gone round now
to tell his father, and will be here presently. Dear Olive, why are
you so silent? Are you not glad about this?"
"I am glad that anything should make you happy," returned Olivia,
gently. "And you know how deeply interested I am in your and Alwyn's
welfare. But forgive me, Greta, if I ask one question. Are you sure,
are you perfectly sure, that this step will be for your happiness----"
Then Greta looked at her in surprise, and there was a reproachful
expression in her grey eyes.
"Sure! when I have loved him all these months. My dear Olive, what can
you mean? Alwyn is the only man I could ever marry."
"Oh, how it relieves me to hear you say that Dear Greta, I am so fond
of you both. Alwyn is charming; but until you said that I was afraid
to congratulate you. You know my views on this subject, dear. Do you
remember how we talked on the beach at Eastbourne? I am afraid that
more than once I made you a little sad; but I was thinking of this. I
knew then in my own mind that Alwyn had begun to care for you, and I
wanted you to have plenty of time for consideration."
"Oh, yes; you made your meaning clear to me even then," returned Greta,
smiling; "but, indeed, no consideration was necessary. When Alwyn came
to me and said quite simply that he loved me and wanted me to be his
wife, I just put my hand in his without a word. It almost shocked me
to see his gratitude. He kept saying over and over again that he was
not worthy of me; that he knew he had done nothing to win my respect,
and I should not be able to look up to him. Oh, Olive, he quite broke
down when he said this, but I soon comforted him. 'I only remember two
things,' I said to him,--'that you love me, and that you need me.' And
after that we understood each other."
"Dearest Greta. Aunt Madge was right when she told me that you were
born into the world to be somebody's crutch."
"Did she say that?" and Greta's eyes had a dreamy look in them; "but I
tell Alwyn that I mean to lean on him. Indeed, Olive, you must not
undervalue him. Alwyn is stronger than you think. He has repented
truly and deeply of all his boyish mistakes, and those who love him
should utterly and for ever wipe out the record of his past. See how
devotedly his father loves him; his forgiveness was absolute."
"Dear, you need not say any more;" and Olivia embraced her with tears
in her eyes. "I can only wish you all the happiness you deserve."
"In that case my happiness would be little enough; but, of course, I
know what you mean. And, Olive, for the first time in my life I can
say with truth that I have found my vocation. It will be such a
privilege to be allowed to take care of Alwyn; he is far from strong,
and he will need care for a long time. I wonder if you know the
feeling I have about that? With Dr. Luttrell you cannot have had it.
You have never been anxious about him; and then he has always taken
care of you. But I shall always have to think for Alwyn."
"Oh, you are right there!"
"We shall think for each other," she went on, fearing that she had
admitted too much. "And there is one thing of which I am certain that
I shall have every right to be proud of him. Do you know what his
father says? that he has genius, unmistakable genius, and he is no mean
judge. 'Mark my words, he will be an R.A. yet;' he only said that to
me a few days ago."
"Marcus thinks the same; but, Greta, there is one thing: if you marry
Alwyn, you will have to take his father too; you can never separate
them."
"Those were Alwyn's very words," returned Greta, with a soft flush
which made her look years younger; "but, indeed, I love him already for
Alwyn's sake, and because he is so good to him. Oh, Olive dear, if you
knew the joy it will be to me to have someone for whom I can care
again. I do not want my life to be too easy or free from
responsibility; but I do want it to be real, actual life. Mrs.
Broderick and I were only talking about it yesterday. She says what
single women miss in their lives is some absorbing interest; a work
that shall fill up all the crannies."
"Oh, Aunt Madge is very strong on that point. I remember, before I
knew Marcus, that we had wonderful talks on this subject. She used to
be so fond of quoting Carmen Sylva's speech, 'A woman does not become a
mother, she is a mother from her birth. A woman's family satisfies her
vocation, but does not create it.' And she used to tell me to mother
my pupils. 'You must love them hard,' she would say, 'and live their
young lives as well as your own;' but, thank God, we can always find
objects for our love. I should make you laugh, Greta, if I told you
how I mapped out my future as an old maid; but I am quite sure I should
have made a good one."
Just then the door-bell rang, and Alwyn entered; he looked eager and
excited.
"Well, has she told you?" were his first words, as Olivia met him with
outstretched hands; and then, as she warmly congratulated him, his eyes
glowed with feeling. "I have not deserved such a prize, have I, Mrs.
Luttrell? but Greta has promised to make the best of me. Will you
forgive me if I take her away for a little? My father is most
impatient to welcome his new daughter, and he will only excite himself
if we keep him waiting."
"Go with him, Greta, dear," returned Olivia; "Mr. Alwyn will bring you
back to us." And then Greta rose at once, though she looked a little
shy.
As Olivia stood at the door watching them as they crossed the road,
Marcus came up Harbut Street.
"Where are those two going?" he asked, curiously. "I thought Miss
Williams was to spend the evening with us." Then Olivia linked her arm
in his and drew him into the passage.
"Oh, do come in, Marcus," she said, breathlessly. "I cannot talk at
the street-door, and I have such a lot to tell you." Then Marcus put
down his hat and drew off his gloves with exasperating slowness.
"We have been married nearly three years," he said, flecking the dust
off his coat-collar, "but I never remember the day when, as you so
elegantly express it, you had not a 'lot to tell me.'"
"Yes, but something has really happened," she returned, ignoring this
provoking speech.
"Oh, indeed," was the cool answer; "so they have settled it at last,
have they? Well, I have changed my opinion lately. Gaythorne may not
be quite up to the mark, but he will make a good husband. I suppose he
is taking her across for the parental blessing?" And then Olivia
admitted that this was the case.
"I am so glad that you really do not mind," she said, in a relieved
tone; "but I fancied you would not approve. You almost said as much
one day."
"Oh, even great intellects change their opinions sometimes," returned
Marcus, dryly; "Sir Robert Peel and Gladstone, for example. And then
most people know their own business best. Perhaps if you were to
cross-examine me severely I might own that Alwyn Gaythorne is not the
man I should have selected for your interesting friend, but as she has
chosen him, she is evidently of another opinion, and this is one thing
in his favour, he is thoroughly in love with her, and really, take him
all in all, he is not a bad fellow," and Olivia, who understood her
husband perfectly, was quite content with this opinion.
When Marcus went upstairs to wash his hands, whistling the air of "My
old Dutch," she knew he was quite as much excited as she was.
When Greta came back she looked a little flushed and agitated, and, at
a sign from Alwyn, Olivia took her upstairs.
"What is it, dear?" she said, gently, as Greta shed a few tears; "was
not Mr. Gaythorne nice to you?"
"Nice?" repeated Greta, with a little sob; "he was as dear as possible.
If I had been Olive he could not have been more gentle. I tell Alwyn
that I shall be quite spoiled between them, but somehow as he talked to
me I could not help thinking of poor father and of my mother. How
happy mother would have been, for she was always so fond of Alwyn."
"Yes; dear, I understand."
"Yes, and Alwyn understands, too. He told me so just now. He said
that though this was the happiest day of his life, he could not help
missing his mother and Olive. Olivia, do you know that Mr. Gaythorne
means us to live with him? I was just a little bit frightened when I
heard that, and I am afraid Alwyn saw it, for he spoke about it
afterwards."
"Does he wish it himself?" Olivia was careful to reserve her own
opinion. Both she and Marcus had their own views on this subject.
"I do not know what he really wishes, and it was too soon to discuss
things, but he did say that he thought that his father ought not to be
left alone, and, of course, he is right, and it is for him to decide,"
and then she gave an embarrassed little laugh.
"Mr. Gaythorne was very good to me, but you know what an autocrat he
is. He wants it to be soon, very soon. Oh, he quite took my breath
away, and I could see Alwyn was sorry for me. He thinks it is the
impatience of the disease and that we must humour him a little. Alwyn
was so beautifully gentle with him and so considerate for me, but he
saw how overwhelmed I was."
"Yes, one wants quiet at first to realise one's happiness," returned
Olivia, sympathetically. "Now I am going to make the tea, and you
shall join us when you like."
But when she got downstairs she found Alwyn alone. He was pacing up
and down as though he were anxious.
"Where is Marcus?" she asked at once.
"Oh, someone wanted him at No. 25, Sligo Street. I was to tell you
that," and then, with a change of tone, "I hope my father did not
really upset Greta."
"Oh, no; she was only a little overwhelmed."
"No wonder! You know what my father is, Mrs. Luttrell. He never will
wait for anything. If a thing is to be done it must be done at once.
Only yesterday I was laughing at him, and telling him he would have
made an excellent slave-driver. He is immensely pleased and excited,
and he treated Greta as though she were a princess. He has fine
manners, you will allow that, but the dear girl looked dreadfully shy
and embarrassed. And then, to put her at her ease, he wanted her to
promise that she would marry me as soon as possible. It was no use
trying to hush him, for he would have his say. I got her away at last
by pretending you would be waiting tea for us. Oh, here she comes,"
and his face brightened as he hurried to his _fiancée's_ side. Greta
had recovered her tranquillity, and when Marcus entered she received
his congratulations as happily as possible.
Olivia went over to Galvaston House the next day.
Mr. Gaythorne was evidently expecting her.
"Well," he said, holding her hand, "I suppose you have come to
congratulate me on my new daughter. I tell Alwyn he is a lucky dog. A
sweet girl and three thousand a year. Not that either he or I care
about the money,--there will be plenty for Alwyn, plenty. I was
telling them both last night," he went on, "that there must be no delay
and nonsense. In my state of health any procrastination would be
foolish. I want to see him with a good wife. Crampton is all very
well, but a wife will understand him better. The house will hold us
all. With the exception of the library and my own bedroom, it will all
belong to them. Alwyn can refurnish the drawing-room, if he likes; and
there is that little room on the first floor, opening into the
conservatory, that would make a charming morning-room for Greta. He
can have _carte blanche_ to do what he likes, and she and Crampton will
manage the house between them, so what is the use of waiting?"
And as Olivia noted the old man's feverish excitement she could not
help thinking that a short engagement would be best, and when Alwyn
walked with her to Mayfield Villas she told him so.
"I quite agree with you," was his answer. "Dr. Luttrell and I had a
talk over things last night, but I do not mean Greta to be bothered
with plans and preparations until she has had a few days' quiet You do
not know her as well as I do, Mrs. Luttrell. Greta is so unselfish, so
absolutely self-less, that she will do anything for the good of those
she loves. In the old days she always yielded her wishes to Olive, and
she is just as ready to do so now," and, as Alwyn said this with his
bright, winning smile, Olivia was not quite so sure, after all, that
Greta had made a mistake.