TOM'S NEWS
TOMINA found, before many days were over, that she had to do many
things that were most distasteful to her. It was a startlingly new
experience to her to have to stand when she was tired, and to have her
night's rest disturbed by having to keep in Mrs. Cuthbert's fire.
To go to the village on an errand when it was pouring with rain, to
wash and get up lace, to mend stockings, to wash hair brushes, to
be on her feet up and down stairs for sometimes an hour at a time,
looking for something that reposed safely in Mrs. Cuthbert's pockets.
And through it all, to meet with real rudeness and despotic tyranny.
She took it at first lightly, treating it all as a huge joke; then she
accepted it as wholesome discipline; and finally found herself praying
hourly for grace to control her tongue.
Mrs. Cuthbert was an adept at keeping her young companion busy. And
it was doubly unfortunate for Tomina that the maid should be away, as
she was obliged to perform the latter's duties as well as her own. She
confessed to herself that she was an awkward substitute to Christabel
Avenel, and often felt that Mrs. Cuthbert was justified in her anger.
But she had never before come in contact with any one who was so openly
rude and abusive as Mrs. Cuthbert, and sometimes even her serene temper
was ruffled.
One wet afternoon, Mrs. Cuthbert called her into the drawing-room.
"You can bring your needlework with you. I sometimes feel I shall get
an imbecile if I live 'ere much longer. I never thought the country
could be so deadly dull, or I would never have listened to my doctor
when he advised me to try the country for my 'ealth. I always fancied
country neighbours dropped in upon each other in a friendly 'omely
way, but leaving out our Rectory folk, and the doctor, I 'aven't
had a single caller this month. When I think of the 'undreds who I
entertained at the Mansion 'Ouse, and 'ow pleased they were to make my
acquaintance, I could have a good cry over myself 'ere. 'Tis only an
experiment; I shall move back to town. I'm at 'ome there."
"It's funny how many people have come down here for their health," said
Tomina. "Miss Merryweather and I were both supposed to be invalids."
Mrs. Cuthbert ignored this remark. She was in a conversational mood,
and went on grumbling at the quiet and dullness of the country.
"Well," said Tomina at last, "I know there's one thing that could make
you happy. And then it wouldn't matter where you lived. If you were on
a desert island, you would be quite cheerful and contented."
"Don't beat round the bush so," said Mrs. Cuthbert. "Say right out what
you mean."
"It's just to take God at His Word," said Tomina, letting her work drop
in her lap and looking at Mrs. Cuthbert with soft dreamy eyes. "I've
done it, and it's like opening dark shutters and letting the sun flood
you with its warmth and brightness. What does it matter where we live,
when we are surrounded by His love!"
Mrs. Cuthbert gazed at her with astonished eyes.
"I consider it's very bad taste to talk religion in a drawing-room, so
don't you do it, Miss Gavin. And most impertinent of a young girl like
you to be setting yourself above those twice your years and experience.
When I was Lady Mayoress, I used to go to numbers of religious
meetings, and some of the 'ighest preachers in the land have dined with
me. Bishops I've 'ad, and they never presumed as you have done."
"I wanted you to be happy," said Tomina, earnestly. "I have been so
discontented and restless myself that I want everybody to know the cure
for it."
"Are you meaning to insinuate that I am discontented and restless?"
said Mrs. Cuthbert, rearing her head haughtily. "I never heard such
insolence in my life! And this is what I get by being a bit sociable
with you! You'll please to hold your tongue in future, Miss Gavin, and
give me no more of your impertinent allusions and opinions!"
Tomina sighed.
"What a hardened old piece of pomposity!" she murmured to herself. "And
what a bully she is!"
Mrs. Cuthbert's rude speeches never touched Tomina, she felt above and
beyond them. But a wave of sympathy and pity for Christabel Avenel came
over her.
"How I wish I could get her some other post! But if she did not come
back, I suppose some other girl would take her place, and I dare say
Christabel wants the money."
Tomina had been with Mrs. Cuthbert three weeks, when one evening a
telegram came to her. It was from her brother Tom, saying he had just
arrived home for three weeks' leave, and asking her if she could meet
him in town. She was beside herself with joy and excitement. Her first
impulse was to rush to Mrs. Cuthbert and say that she must leave her
that very day. Then she thought of Christabel, who would be so bitterly
disappointed if she would have to return and be robbed of her last
week's holiday.
For the first time in her life a battle waged in Tomina's soul between
duty and inclination.
"I must see Tom. I wouldn't waste a day of his leave. We haven't seen
each other for four years. But I mustn't fail Christabel. It's the
first effort I have made to do something unpleasant for the good of my
neighbour. It's my first burden that I am carrying. St. Christoforos
would not have dropped his first passenger in the river because he
wanted to do something else. But oh, my darling Tom, I cannot give up
one of our precious weeks together! What am I to do?"
She sat with the telegram in her hand, and then determined to appeal to
Mrs. Cuthbert. She found her in her conservatory, walking round it and
talking to the gardener there.
"May I speak to you?" Tomina said meekly. "I have had a wire from my
brother."
Mrs. Cuthbert stepped back into the drawing-room.
"What is it?" she asked curtly.
"He has come home from Australia and has three weeks' leave. He wants
me to join him at once in London. Do you think you could manage without
me for just this week? Isn't your maid coming back soon?"
"I cannot possibly let you leave me. I wonder at your asking such a
question. My maid is not returning at all. She has written to tell me
so. I should think your brother can do without you for a week."
"He is my only brother, we haven't seen each other for four years.
Oh, do let me go! Of course, I wouldn't be the cause of bringing Miss
Avenel back for worlds, but I really think you could manage without
either of us for just this week."
It was absolutely useless trying to make Mrs. Cuthbert give way. She
broke into a torrent of angry declamations, and almost drove Tomina out
of her presence.
And so with a few tears, Tomina wrote as following to her brother:—
"MY OWN DEAREST BOY,
"When I had your wire I nearly stood on my head for joy, and now I am
in the deepest depths of woe, for I can't come to you, Tom dear, for a
week, and I can't ask you to come to me. I am staying with an irascible
old lady, taking the place of her companion, a friend of mine, and she
won't let me go. My time is up to-morrow week. Till then I must curb my
impatient spirits. I have told you all about my retreat, and I really
think it would be more fun for both of us if you came down to my cot.
I've promised the doctors to stay in the country a year—and you and I
would be very snug together. How I wish I could leave my body with my
old lady, and betake my soul to you, but a week will pass, won't it?
Till then. Your own
"TOMINA."
She got another wire after the receipt of this letter:—
"All serene. Will come down next Wednesday.
"Tom."
Tom was never good at letters. That week was the hardest and longest
that Tomina had ever passed. She performed her duties in a dreamy
mechanical way. Even Mrs. Cuthbert wished she would be more talkative.
Tomina's bright serene temper was valued more than she thought, and
when at last the day for her departure came, Mrs. Cuthbert was almost
gracious. Then, like a bolt from the blue, came Tomina's parting words—
"I've done my best, but I know I have been very awkward in many ways.
You will be glad to have Miss Avenel back again. Now, will you, dear
Mrs. Cuthbert, try to be kinder to her? Remember she is flesh and blood
like yourself, and has feelings. It is not a happy post to be always
trying to please somebody who won't be pleased. You will be happier
yourself if you make her happy. Treat her as a daughter. Why should you
not? Good-bye!"
She was gone before Mrs. Cuthbert could recover her breath from the
shock her audacity had given her.
"Free! Free! Free!"
Tomina almost sang the words to herself as the trap drove her home. It
was a dull, grey afternoon in December, but she cared little for her
outlook. Tom was coming to her that evening and she must be home in
time to welcome him. Susan was waiting at the gate when she arrived,
and though it was already dusk, several doors opened in the village
street, and women's heads nodded cheerfully at one another as the trap
drove past.
"She's back. Our young lady is back!"
Tomina almost danced into the house.
"Oh, what a cosy fire; how delicious to be home! Oh, Susan, what a
lot I have to tell you! And what a useful member of society I have
become! Do you know I can make Benger's Food, and trim caps, and wash
handkerchiefs, and rub rheumatic shoulders, and light fires when they
go out, and darn stockings! Oh, there is no end to my accomplishments.
And now have you got my brother's room ready? Let me see it. He will be
here directly, and, Susan, you will lose your heart to him! There never
was his equal in the world and there never will be!"
So Tomina chatted and laughed. And then she sat down suddenly and
turned so white that Susan thought that she was going to faint.
"I'm only rather tired. I was up at five o'clock this morning trying
to get my packing done. I was given no time to do it, you see, and you
know how stupid I am over packing."
"You look a perfect shadow, ma'am. I knew you'd be just wore out. Sit
down and let me take off your boots."
"Just to-day, then, but I'm going to turn over a new leaf and do
everything for myself. Oh, Susan, I could hug you, for your dear, kind
face! Do you know I haven't had one kind word from anybody for a whole
month? Yes, I have—the little housemaid befriended me."
Susan waited on her hand and foot, and then, when Tomina was
comfortably established in her cheerful sitting-room, she brought her
in tea and insisted upon her having a cup at once.
Tomina felt better after that, and began to tell Susan of some of her
experiences, which, now that they were over, seemed very amusing.
Then the sound of a trap was heard. Tomina rushed to the door, and the
next moment was in the arms of her beloved twin brother. He was not
much like her, except in his eyes, which twinkled as irrepressibly and
mischievously as Tomina's.
"Oh!" she said. "How good you smell! It's your serge! It holds the salt
sea in it! It does seem delicious to have a man in the house again. Now
sit down. Do you still condescend to tea?"
"Tea! Yes. They never know how to make good tea at sea. Well, Tomina,
how goes it? You're rather a fraud. What are you doing in this
ungetatable place? I expected to find you in some kind of rest cure.
The 'mater' said you refused to see her or any one, but she did hear
from somebody that you weren't so bad as you made out. So to-morrow
prepare to see a party descend upon you. They're coming in their car."
"Oh, Tom, how horrible! I want you to myself. I've such oceans to tell
you! Who is it that will be coming?"
"Some one I want you to like. I've got news for you, but it will keep.
I've got a heavy thirst on, so be prepared to give me five cups at
least!"
Tomina poured out his tea with a perturbed look. Then her brother
laughed at her.
"My news will keep. Tell me how your van is going! That was very
sporting of you! I hope I shall be introduced to it."
"Oh, Tom, I have such shoals to tell you! But I must hear your news
first. I must! You have shaken my very foundations. Don't tell me
you're going to marry!"
Tom nodded at her, and his eyes glowed as he said—
"To the most charming girl in the world, and she's coming down
to-morrow to make your acquaintance."
The blow had fallen. Tomina shivered; then she braced herself to bear
it, and smiled one of her sweetest smiles.
"And who is she, Tom? I must know that first before I congratulate you."
"You have never met her. She has been out in Australia for the last
five years. Her brother has a Government billet in Queensland. They
entertained a lot, and were awfully good to me. She's much too good for
me, but that's her look-out, I tell her. And she came home a month ago,
and she's getting a married sister to motor her down here to-morrow."
"They'll never be able to get up here, if they come by the London
Road," said Tomina, slowly.
"I say, Tomina, don't be a squelcher! You've often advised me for my
good."
"Yes—yes," said Tomina, with feverish haste. "I'm so glad for you, but
I always think a naval man's married life must be so disappointing; and
I thought you had the makings of a bachelor!"
"You hoped I had," laughed Tom. Then he stood up, his hands in his
pockets. "Wait till you see her. I was clean bowled over, and you'll
not be surprised. Now prepare for shock number two. We're going to be
spliced next week; and I've applied for a week's further leave."
"Oh, Tom, you wretch! And I've lost one week of you, and I suppose
you'll only give me a few days."
Tears were crowding into Tomina's eyes. She felt as if she were losing
the one she loved best on earth; she knew that nothing would ever be
quite the same again.
Tom looked at her uncomfortably; then he turned and gazed out of the
window.
"You've an awfully pretty view here," he said.
Tomina got up from her seat, and put her arms round her brother's neck.
"Give me time, Tom dear, you know I want you to be happy, but you have
sprung a mine upon me! I shan't say a word till after I have seen her.
I'm sure she must be nice, or you wouldn't have chosen her. I used to
laugh at your fastidiousness as far as girls were concerned, didn't I?
Come and sit down and yarn to me as you always do. And then I'll yarn
back. It is good to have you here."
So brother and sister began to talk. There was much to tell on both
sides, and they talked hard till past twelve o'clock that night.
When Tomina at length got to bed, she was too tired to sleep. And Tom's
news was a greater trouble to her than she would allow even to herself.
"It was bound to come. I only pray she may be good enough for him. I
won't be selfish. I would not have him live and die a bachelor."
But though she comforted herself with this view, she spent a restless
night, and came to the breakfast table the next morning with dark blue
lines under her eyes, and cheeks so colourless that Tom exclaimed—
"What a washed-out rag you are! No wonder you were sent down here to
get a bit of colour!"
"I'm all right!"
"You aren't worrying your little self over my news, are you?"
Tomina forced a laugh.
"There seems nothing to worry about. What time do they hope to get
here?"
"Some time early in the afternoon. I heard from her this morning.
She—they want me to go on with them to Dilchester Burrow. They're going
to put up there for the night."
Tomina said nothing.
Tom looked sharply at her.
"I'll come back to you to-morrow if I do, Tommie. They're going back to
town. If you'll have me till the end of the week, I'll stay. And then
won't you come back to town with me?"
"In time for your wedding? Of course I will," and Tommie's tone was gay.
Tom turned rather earnestly to her whilst they were breakfasting.
"I'm building great things on the meeting to-day. I want you to have
Doreen to stay with you when I'm gone. Just at first—she hates town
so—later she'll pay visits to her own people, but if—if you like each
other, I'm wondering whether you wouldn't like to live with her. She
has had a small house left her. It wants a lot of doing up, but in a
few months' time will be fit for occupation. We're going to spend our
honeymoon at the old Hall near it. It's the dower house; and her old
aunt died and left it to her. Her cousin is a bachelor and is abroad,
so the Hall is virtually shut up. What do you say?"
Tomina gasped.
"Oh, Tom, don't go quite so fast! You're turning my quiet life
topsy-turvy. My dear boy, you can't shake two women together in a
moment of time, and make them into a couple of lovebirds in a cage!"
Tom laughed merrily.
"I'll be mum till you've met. Now, are you going to walk me round to a
few of your favourite haunts?"
"You must give me a little time for my housekeeping. I talk every
morning, and Susan acts. But she won't act unless I talk. I shan't keep
you waiting long."
They had a pleasant walk through the village a little later. Thor was
very suspicious of the new-comer at first. But after inspecting his
boots, and walking round him with a critical eye, he decided that he
must be one of the family, and followed close to heel behind him.
And as they walked along, Tomina began very quietly to tell her brother
of the change in her life. She finished by saying—
"It's all so new to me that I'm very, very full of it. And, of course,
you can't tell what a tremendous difference it has made in my outlook.
I hope it will affect my outside life; it ought to, but it has
revolutionised my inner life, I can tell you."
Tom did not scoff. His twin sister had always been very dear to him,
but he was puzzled.
"You're not the kind to be religious," he said, with a shake of the
head, "and I don't know where you get it from. There's no one else of
that breed in our family."
"But there will be soon," said Tomina eagerly. "Oh yes, I can assure
you that you will be the next. I know you will, for I'm praying hard
for you. And when you begin to feel uncomfortable, you'll know what it
is. I'm quite positive that I shall be answered, for the promise says
so. And the promise has been the means of my salvation!"
"I do hope you will leave poor me alone!" said Tom, with his merry
twinkle. "I don't want to be shaken out of one skin into another, as
you seem to have been."
"And then Doreen must be the next!" said Tomina, looking away with a
dreamy smile. "Perhaps she may be the first!"
Tom's eyebrows worked rather nervously.
"I say, Tommie, don't be—a—fanatic. I shall be hearing of you in a
Salvation Army garb next, beating a drum in a poke bonnet!"
"Don't be a foolish boy! There's nothing fanatical about the real
thing, Tom; and it really is so simple and so easy, and so awfully
restful and inspiring, that I'll never rest till you have it."
"Have what?" said Tom, desperately. "I do hate that 'it'! People who
talk religion always say so much about 'it'!"
"Then I won't mention it again," said Tomina. "There's really no 'it'
about it."
There was silence for a few minutes. Then Tomina burst forth.
"I'm like the pedlar, the one who first spoke to me, you know. I can't
conceive why it's the fashion for us all to scoff and despise the
One Who made us, and Who sacrificed Himself for us, and Who loves us
through thick and thin, and through all our scoffing and despising! I
was awfully afraid of good people. I hated them, and as for wanting to
be good myself—well, I was just like you, I thought it belonged to the
Salvation Army kind of person. It's a funny state of things. We're all
just alike!"
Tom was speechless.
And Tomina wisely said no more just then. She suddenly changed the
subject.