The Lost Niece.
"I'VE nowhere to go, and nobody wants me—oh, what shall I do? What
'shall' I do?" Little Cissie sobbed out the words.
And Eileen and Nora, who were both as tenderhearted as could be, were
almost ready to cry for very sympathy.
Miss Silver stooped down and gently kissed the pathetic little face.
"Don't cry, dearie," said she soothingly, "and you mustn't say that
nobody wants you, for 'I' do. As for there being nowhere for you to go,
we'll soon settle that."
Cissie's eyes brightened a little. Somehow, with Miss Silver by her
side, she felt a sense of protection.
"What would you say, Cissie," went on the lady, after a few moments'
thought, "to coming home with me, if sister allows it?"
"Oh, Miss Silver," Cissie looked over-joyed, "do you really, 'really'
mean it?"
"Of course I do; I'll go and speak to Sister Louise" (here naming a
personal friend of her own in the hospital) "at once about it. And
in the meantime, you and my young cousins can be making each others'
acquaintance."
True to her promise, Miss Silver went in search of Sister Louise.
And in a very few minutes, Eileen, Nora, and Cissie were chatting away
in the friendliest of fashions.
After a time Miss Silver returned to Cissie's bedside, every
arrangement for the child's welfare having been satisfactorily made.
"Cissie," said she, "how soon do you think you can get into some
clothes? The matron and sister both think you are well enough to return
home with me now. What do you say to that?"
Cissie looked absolutely delighted, and a scarlet flush of excitement
came into her cheeks.
"How—perfectly lovely!" she said. "I feel just so happy that I want to
cry."
"Little goose!" laughed Miss Silver. But all the same her own eyes were
misty with tears of sympathy.
Before half an hour had elapsed, Cissie, the good-byes to those who had
befriended her in the hospital having been said, found herself seated
in a taxi by Miss Silver's side, Eileen and Nora sitting opposite with
beaming faces.
That evening a bed was made up for the little girl in Miss Silver's
room, the lady supplying all her needs. And there, for the first time
since the fire, she passed a night of calm, unbroken sleep, awaking in
the morning, well on the road to health and strength.
By Miss Silver's orders she was to remain in bed for that day, with the
promise that she should come downstairs on the next if she was very
good.
A letter was sent to Mrs. Vane telling her of Cissie's whereabouts.
The only reply to which was a few brief lines saying that it was well
Cissie had found a friend, as she would be unable to do anything
further for her. From that day forth nothing more was heard of the
little girl's step-mother.
Punctually at six o'clock, the hour Mr. Charlton had appointed for
his call, a knock was heard at the door. He received the kindliest of
welcomes from Miss Silver and Mrs. Mortimer, who had both heard much in
his favour. As for the two girls, they were delighted to see him.
There were so many things to hear and to say, that conversation flowed
very easily.
It was Eileen who later on brought up the subject of the mortgage-box,
Miss Silver having already heard about it.
"I put all the money you gave me for my story and drawings, Mr.
Charlton," said she, "straight into the mortgage-box, but we've given
up trying to earn anything more for it now, it seemed so little use."
"Come, you mustn't be discouraged like that," replied Mr. Charlton,
with a smile. "Why don't you try your hand at another little story and
some more drawings? Maybe I could use them one day."
"I've had no time since school began," said Eileen regretfully, "and
besides, I don't feel as if I had got anything to write about. Oh,
Cousin Margaret—" (here she turned to Miss Silver, a sudden bright
thought striking her), "wouldn't Cissie make an interesting story? May
I tell Mr. Charlton all about her?"
"Certainly you may, dear, if you like," said Miss Silver in her pretty
gentle voice; "that is, if Mr. Charlton would care to hear."
"I should like it very much," was the answer; "Cissie is a favourite
name of mine."
He listened with great interest to the story which followed. It was his
ready sympathy which had made him such a favourite with the Bannister
boys and girls.
[Illustration: HE LISTENED TO THE STORY.]
"Poor little soul!" he said at the close. "It's hard luck for her! But
surely she has some relative who would look after her."
Miss Silver shook her head. "No," said she, "I'm afraid not. Her
father, for some reason or other, seemed to have cut himself adrift
from all his relatives, and Cissie knows nothing about any of them."
"What's her surname?" asked Mr. Charlton. "You haven't told me yet.
Perhaps, I could help you in the matter."
"Vane," replied Miss Silver; "it's rather an uncommon name, and—"
"Vane," was the quick interruption. "Cissie Vane—are you 'quite' sure?"
Mr. Charlton's voice trembled a little as he put the question, and Miss
Silver looked at him in surprise.
"Yes," she answered, "quite sure; she was named after her mother."
"Then," said he, "that settles it!"
There was a note of such joy in his words that his hearers felt a
sudden thrill of excitement.
What did he know about little Cissie Vane?
"Miss Silver," he went on, "this is nothing less than providential.
If what I think and believe is true, this child is my niece—my only
sister's little girl. For years I have been trying to find her
whereabouts, but without success."
At this moment there flashed into Eileen's mind the words Mr. Charlton
had spoken on the day he bade good-bye to them at Hazlenook, and she
instinctively guessed that what he specially wanted had come to pass.
And she was right.
"May I see her, please?" he next asked eagerly.
"Certainly you may," replied Miss Silver, delighted beyond measure at
the turn of affairs.
As for Eileen and Nora, it seemed to them almost too good to be
believed. Mrs. Mortimer's kindly heart, too, was rejoiced.
"I only hope," added the lady, "that for poor little Cissie's sake you
may be right."
A few minutes later Mr. Charlton and Miss Silver were standing by
Cissie's bedside, and in the easiest and friendliest of fashions
the former, having first won the little girl's confidence, began to
question her about her relatives.
Very soon an important fact was in his possession.
"I wonder," he said very gently, Miss Silver having warned him not
to excite the child, "if you can tell me what your mother's name was
before she married your father."
"My own mother, you mean?" asked Cissie.
"Yes," was the reply.
"It was Cissie Charlton; I saw it written in a book in her own
handwriting. Daddy told me it was one that belonged to her."
This was quite enough—the proof was positive.
"Cissie," said Mr. Charlton, his voice not quite under his control,
"you will like to know that I knew and loved your mother very dearly—in
fact, little one, she was my own sister."
"Your own sister!" The pale little face on the pillow suddenly flushed
a rosy red, which soon faded, leaving her whiter than before.
At first she could scarcely grasp all his words implied.
"Is it all—real—true?" she said falteringly, looking from his face into
Miss Silver's kind eyes.
"Yes, dearie," (it was Miss Silver who answered the question), "it is
all real, true."
"Then," said Cissie, turning towards Mr. Charlton again, "you—you are
my own uncle!"
"Yes, I am," was the glad reply, "and I am going to take care of you
from this day forth." And, stooping down, Mr. Charlton kissed his
new-found niece.
Cissie's cup of joy was full to the brim. "Isn't it all wonderful?" she
said presently, "and oh, isn't it kind of God to let it happen like
this?"
To these words both Mr. Charlton and Miss Silver agreed. So rolled
away the clouds from the life of little Cissie Vane, giving place to
heaven's brightest sunshine.