A RESCUE
The winter had been long and dreary, and held no bright gleams for
Nancy, who was sensible of a continuous atmosphere of suppression and
oppression! It was now the capricious month of April, and in sympathy
with its showers, she secretly shed many tears. Mrs. Jenkins had
arrived at the definite decision, that her niece was "unsatisfactory"!
This expression had been specially coined by Mrs. Taylor, who put
it into daily currency. It was true that now and then the girl had
absented herself for an hour or two in the afternoon, taking prolonged
walks round the Park, or Kensington Gardens,--attended exclusively
by the Pom.--She wasted time in the Victoria and Albert Museum, the
Natural History Museum, and had even penetrated to the National Gallery!
Also, she had found her tongue, and ventured to talk to and make
acquaintance with the elderly crowd assembled every Tuesday. More than
all, she had become careless! She had broken a pet vase, value three
francs, and--incredible enormity!--lost a library book--dropped it
into the street from the top of a motor-'bus. Her last misdeed was of
such gravity, that she had been formally summoned to the drawing-room,
there to appear before her judges, and be sharply reprimanded. As Mrs.
Jenkins, Miss Dolling, and Mrs. Taylor awaited the culprit, the latter
said:
"My dear, you can see for yourself, how that girl is growing worse and
worse, and becoming more unsatisfactory every day."
(It should be here explained, that Miss Dolling took a lenient view of
Nancy's delinquencies, and was on occasion her ineffectual champion.
She had even offered to take her to places of amusement--these
invitations never came to Nancy's ears--for Miss Dolling cherished
a mild, sentimental regard, for the daughter of her one and only
love,--whose photograph, enshrined in silver, she treasured as a sacred
relic).
Nancy's latest misdeed was of far-reaching consequence. Detailed to
fetch her aunt's best transformation from the hairdressers' (where
recently it had been renovated), she had left it in the Tube; abandoned
it to the heartless jeers of railway officials, and the publicity of
the Lost Property Office! The truth was, that Nancy had that morning
heard of the death of Mr. Fletcher, and her thoughts were sad, and far
away, as she travelled to South Kensington.--This valuable work of hair
art, had cost no less than twelve guineas,--and what was poor Mrs.
Jenkins to wear that evening at dinner?
The scolding had been so bitter, and impassioned, that Nancy's humility
had at last given way, and as, with heightened colour and shining eyes,
she seemed inclined to protest and expostulate, the enemy brought
heavier guns to bear.
"Is it true?" demanded Mrs. Jenkins, sitting Buddha-like, with folded
arms, "that you write to young men?"
"Yes," replied Nancy, "I do."
"She couldn't deny it!" broke in Mrs. Taylor; "I've seen the letters
myself, lying upon the hall table."
"And you smoke cigarettes up in your own room," she added.
"Yes, occasionally," admitted the sinner.
"And waste the electric light, reading in bed," resumed Mrs. Jenkins,
raising her voice with each accusation. "Mrs. Taylor saw the light
under your door after eleven o'clock at night!"
"I do read in bed,--I've no time to read in the day," answered the girl
defiantly.
"Keep your temper, miss!--that is not the way to speak to _me_,"
shouted her aunt, in an angry voice.
"No indeed, darling," chimed in Mrs. Taylor, "and after all you have
done for her--taken her in, when she was a penniless orphan, and----"
"Yes," interrupted Mrs. Jenkins, "and I hear you have gone behind my
back, and complained to Mrs. Devine,--oh, you abominable, ungrateful,
double-faced minx!"
"To Mrs. Devine?" repeated Nancy. "I have never spoken to her in my
life!"
"I don't believe you!" declared the accuser, her face alarmingly
aflame; at this sharp crisis, the door was pushed open, and Galpin
announced:
"Mrs. De Wolfe."
Mrs. De Wolfe, handsomely dressed, and completely self-possessed,
walked forward to where Nancy stood before her accusers, and said in
her masculine bass:
"Oh, my dear Nancy, I'm delighted to find you in at last! Pray
introduce me to your aunt?" and she glanced at Mrs. Taylor,--who was
still heaving with virtuous indignation.
The atmosphere was heavily charged with electricity, and for a moment
Nancy was speechless. Then, hastily recovering herself:
"This is my aunt, Mrs. Jenkins. Aunt Arabella, here is Mrs. De Wolfe,
with whom I travelled home in the _Patna_."
The shock of such an unexpected interruption had suddenly sobered Mrs.
Jenkins: for a moment, she had been threatened with palpitation,--but
thrust the temptation aside. Recently, she had heard Mrs. De Wolfe
referred to as a woman of wealth and social importance; she therefore
made an effort to recover her poise, and accord her a gracious
reception. After a somewhat breathless and incoherent conversation with
her hostess, Mrs. De Wolfe turned to Nancy.
"Have you been here ever since you came home?"
"Yes," she replied, and then boldly added: "I have not taken a
situation yet; but I intend to see about one immediately," and she
looked straight at her aunt, who encountered her gaze with sullen
hostility.
This unexpected reinforcement by Mrs. De Wolfe had given Nancy a
species of ephemeral, or "Dutch" courage.
"Oh, are you, my dear? But before you arrange anything definite, I hope
you will come and pay me a little visit. I am staying for a couple of
weeks at Brown's Hotel, in Dover Street, and shall be glad to have your
company at once."
The eyes of Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Taylor met; their expression was
significant.
"You are very kind," replied the former, now addressing her visitor,
"but my niece is not leaving me--as far as _I_ am aware--but I shall be
pleased to spare her to you, for a few days."
"Thank you very much," replied Mrs. De Wolfe. "Then if you will allow
me, I will call for her to-morrow."
At this moment other visitors were announced, and Nancy's ally rose and
took leave. As she pressed the girl's hand she murmured:
"Had you not better come down with me to the hall,--and see that I
don't carry off the umbrellas?"
On the landing, she halted opposite the stuffed dog, and said:
"My poor dear child! The door was ajar, and I heard every word about
the cigarettes, the electric light, the reading in bed, the penniless
orphan, and Mrs. Devine. What people! As for the big, dark woman, with
the red face, positively she frightened me!--she is like a Gorgon!"
"I was getting on all right until just before Christmas when Mrs.
Taylor arrived," replied Nancy; "she is dreadfully poor; she hates me,
and thinks I am an interloper, and a fortune-hunter. Ever since she
came into the house, Aunt Arabella is completely changed."
"I intend that you shall be completely changed," declared Mrs. De
Wolfe. "Oh, I must go! I see the man is waiting at the door. I'll call
for you to-morrow before twelve o'clock,--and I think you had better
bring most of your luggage."
A visit to Mrs. De Wolfe proved a change indeed. Nancy felt another
creature, living in another atmosphere, and another city. Oh, the
blessed relief, from hearing the ponderous tread of Mrs. Taylor,
Galpin's pompous announcements, and the Pom's maddening bark!
She and her hostess shopped in the mornings, motored in the afternoons,
and at night, went to concerts, lectures, and the theatre. Within a
few days, it had been decided, that Nancy was to be Mrs. De Wolfe's
companion for the present,--and to receive sixty pounds a year, on
which to dress. Already the girl had felt the stimulating effects of a
new and fashionable outfit!
"Without flattering myself, I think I may say, that you will be happier
with _me_, than with Mrs. Jenkins," observed her benefactress; "though
I am by no means an angel! Every character has its odd corners, its
limits, and its secrets. You are too young to harbour any secrets
yet--whilst I have dozens!"
She also added, that later, should anything more satisfactory turn
up, Nancy was not to consider herself bound in any way; and so the
arrangement, or engagement, was concluded--an engagement which existed
for little more than a week.
One afternoon, Nancy, who had just returned from the Park, was
informed, that someone who had brought a message, particularly wanted
to see her, and she was a good deal surprised, when the door of the
sitting-room was opened, and no less a person than Galpin emerged from
the passage. He was surprised, too,--as he subsequently confessed, when
he imparted particulars of his visit to the lady's maid.
"There was Miss Travers, looking like another girl! her hair all
fluffed out, wearing a great big hat covered with feathers--quite the
fashionable young lady. I declare to you, Miss Baker, I hardly knew
her!"
Galpin, who carried a packet of letters in his hand, peered cautiously
round the room, made a stiff little bow, coughed, and said:
"Mrs. Jenkins sent me over special with these letters for you, Miss.
She said, there was one that looked like a business matter, and is
anxious to know what it is all about? She thinks, as you have been
doing secretary work for her--that maybe there's a mistake in the
name--as it's from a firm of lawyers. I was to bring back the letter,
Miss, and to give Mrs. Jenkins' love, and to tell you how the Pom
misses you."
Nancy received and hastily examined the letters. The Indian Mail was
in. There was a thick one from Finchie, a thin one from Nellie Meach,
and a postcard from Francis, on which was inscribed, "The dog Togo
is too well." Besides these, one was in a blue envelope, on the flap
of which was printed, the name of a legal firm. She sat down to open
this,--in order to at once satisfy her aunt; whilst Galpin waited, hat
in hand, with an air of respectful curiosity.
As Nancy glanced over the neatly-written lines, she faintly grasped an
almost incredible fact. Mr. Fletcher's will had recently been read; he
had endowed her with Fairplains, and an income of two thousand a year!
This was the substance of what she gathered, through a maze of legal
expressions. For a moment, she imagined that she must be dreaming. Then
she slowly went over the pages, and noted, that the firm requested an
immediate interview, and that one of their clerks would wait upon her
at an hour, and date, to be hereafter fixed.
For a moment or two she sat motionless, endeavouring to collect her
faculties; then, with considerably heightened colour, she raised her
head, and looked up at Galpin,--who almost conveyed the impression that
he was in attendance at table, and waiting to remove her plate!
"Please tell Aunt Arabella, that the letter was really for me, and
contains good news. I will write to her to-night."
"Very well, Miss. Is that all--ahem--_no_ particulars?" Galpin's tone
expressed extreme disappointment.
"No particulars," rising as she spoke; "good afternoon, Galpin, I think
you can find your way down," and she indicated the door.
As soon as this had closed behind Galpin's broad back, Nancy, letter in
hand, rushed into Mrs. De Wolfe's bedroom. The old lady, who had only
recently come in, was changing her boots, assisted by the invaluable
Haynes.
"I've just had this," announced the girl breathlessly. "Aunt Arabella
sent it over by Galpin; she wanted so much to know what it was all
about? Do look at it--and tell me if you think it's _real_?"
Mrs. De Wolfe hastily dismissed her maid, and with one boot on, and one
boot off, assumed her glasses and deliberately studied the letter; then
she looked up at Nancy, and said:
"An heiress, I declare! My dear, I congratulate you. I _am_ glad."
"Do you think it's true? I can hardly believe it! Oh, I feel I'd like
to run about, and tell the whole hotel of my wonderful good fortune.
It's not the money so much,--but Fairplains--how splendid of Mr.
Fletcher, and oh, if father were only alive!"
"Fairplains. Yes, it was your father's once, now it is yours; you
were born there, and love it; but a solid income is a satisfactory
fact. Well, now you are independent, and can engage a companion--or a
chaperone."
"I want to stay with you!"
"But what will Mrs. Jenkins say?" and Mrs. De Wolfe laughed. "How I
should like to see her face, when she hears that you are no longer 'a
penniless orphan!'"
When Mrs. Jenkins received the news, she was so startled, and upset,
that she felt compelled to ring for Baker to bring her some special
heart drops; and yet she was gratified in a way. To have a niece who
was an heiress, increased--if that were possible--her sense of her
own importance. Mrs. Taylor was also gratified. There would now be
no question of the return of Nancy to Queen's Gate; no fear of her
inheriting Mrs. Jenkins' substantial fortune; she would without further
exertions, have the house, and the, so to speak, "field" to herself.
When the heiress arrived to pay her formal visit to Queen's Gate, she
found her aunt in her most agreeable temper. Nancy might almost have
been a titled acquaintance, so effusive was her welcome! After a few
preliminaries, she said:
"Well, Nancy, so you've come in for a coffee estate, and a large sum of
money! That is nice for you."
"I suppose there's no fear of the will being disputed?" said Mrs.
Taylor--ever ready with disagreeable suggestions.
"I think not," replied the heiress. "I remember Mr. Fletcher telling
us, that he was the last of his family."
"You won't know what to do with all your money," declared Mrs. Jenkins
with a complacent smile. "Of course you will return _here_."
"Return!" repeated the girl blankly.
"Why, certainly, you must live with _me_; it is your natural home. It
would be most extraordinary if you did not! What would people say? I am
your only near relative. You will be putting off your mourning, and
I shall take you out this season,--and perhaps give a dance for you.
You shall have a room on the next floor,--and I daresay you can keep a
maid."
Mrs. Taylor's face clouded over as she listened to these luxurious
arrangements. How close Arabella had been; the sly old thing had never
dropped a word of these plans, during their nightly conferences.
"Thank you, Aunt Arabella," replied Nancy, "but I am going to travel
with Mrs. De Wolfe. We shall probably be abroad for a year. I have
never been on the Continent; and I think we shall start as soon as the
lawyers have finished with my affairs."
"That is a monstrous idea; I shall not give my consent," declared her
aunt with a very pink face. "Mrs. De Wolfe is a complete stranger.
Ten days, or a fortnight, is all very well, but you cannot go about
the world with a woman who is nothing to you beyond being a fellow
passenger. It would be most unseemly. Remember that you are not of age
yet,--and have no right to do just as you please."
"I see no objection," murmured Nancy.
"You see _me_," announced Mrs. Jenkins with emphasis, "_I_ am the
objection. You cannot deny, that I stand to you in the place of a
parent--that I have received you,--and adopted you"--here she paused to
sneeze.
"I was not aware that you had adopted me, Aunt Arabella; and I think I
had better say at once, that I should be sorry to have any disagreement
with you, but I cannot admit that you have any right to control me.
Mrs. De Wolfe and I, are starting for Italy in a few days, and this
visit is not merely to tell you about my plans,--but to say good-bye."
"My dear, I think Nancy is _very_ wise," proclaimed Mrs. Taylor,
advancing unexpectedly to her rescue. "You know, that she has seen
nothing of the world as yet; and she is so young; the tour will
complete her education. Mrs. De Wolfe is a friend of the dear
Foresters, and the aunt of Lady Bincaster, _quite_ all that she ought
to be! Judging by my own feelings, I am sure that Nancy would not care
to go into company yet; and anyway, the state of your health could
never stand the strain of playing chaperone, and keeping late hours.
Now _could_ it?" laying her heavy hand upon her friend's fat arm. "Of
course we all know, that you are always only _too_ ready to sacrifice
yourself for others; but your friends could never permit you to
undertake, what would be practically, a sort of prolonged suicide!"
"Well, I suppose there is something in what you say," admitted Mrs.
Jenkins, after a moment's reflection, reluctantly releasing the vision
of a wealthy niece on show--and so to speak, bearing her own train.
Indeed, such was the effect of Mrs. Taylor's soothing, and cooling
remarks, that by degrees, her old school-fellow recovered her temper
and complacency. She talked about the Continent, of her triumphal
progress through various cities, and related the tale of a tragic
experience in the Tyrol, where it had been whispered "that a gallant
young Austrian officer had precipitated himself from a mountain peak,
solely on her account!"
After half an hour's discourse,--chiefly reminiscent,--Mrs. Jenkins had
talked herself into a condition of the utmost good humour, and with
the promises of letters, and many picture postcards, the visitor was
permitted to take leave.
As Nancy departed, she noticed Baker peering at her over the banisters,
and nodded to her affably, as she descended the stairs,--on which she
had made many weary journeys--also it seemed to her, that Galpin the
pompous, held the hall door extra wide, and was impressively benignant,
as she passed forth.