ALL Candace’s timidity fled
at the sight of Georgie’s distress. She
hurried across the room, knelt down by the sofa, and
took her cousin’s hand, which was as cold as
a stone, between her own warm ones.
“What is it, Georgie? Don’t
cry so, Georgie, dear, please don’t! Oh,
what is the matter?” she said, in a voice so
soft and affectionate and pleading, that it made its
way straight to poor miserable Georgie’s heart.
She still sobbed; she still hid her face in the pillow;
but she let Cannie hold her hand and stroke and kiss
it, and seemed to find a little soothing in the kind
touch and the tender words.
After a while the sobs grew fainter,
and Georgie lay half exhausted, with her eyes shut,
only now and then giving Cannie’s hand a squeeze.
Hers was one of those natures which cannot bear to
suffer alone. Whatever was the matter, Georgie
instinctively reached out for sympathy to the nearest
source from which it could be had. Gertrude, her
natural confidante, was away; and Candace, her sweet
face full of pity and concern, was close at hand.
Her touch felt warm and comforting; her tender voice
was irresistible to Georgie’s desolate mood.
She turned her wet face with a sudden burst of gratitude
and trust toward the little cousin whom she had till
now held so cheaply, and who, at that moment, seemed
the only friend left within reach.
“Cannie,” she said, “I’ve
a great mind to tell you ” Then she
stopped.
Confidence is like a timid bird, which
hops nearer and nearer to the hand that holds out
a crumb, but all the while keeps its wings half poised
for flight, should a gesture alarm it. Candace
had the instinctive wisdom of a loving heart.
She did not interrupt Georgie with a word; only her
anxious eyes asked the questions which her tongue
did not utter.
“I am in such trouble,”
said Georgie, thawing more and more under the influence
of Cannie’s silence and Cannie’s look, “in
such a dreadful scrape! Oh, what will become
of me?” wringing her hands. “You are
so good, Cannie, so kind. Will you
promise not to breathe a word to anybody if I tell
you all about it?”
“Yes,” said Candace, “I promise.”
“I know you can keep a secret,”
continued Georgie, sighing heavily; “you never
said a word about that time at Fort Greene, yet I know
you must have wondered what it all meant.”
A little pause; then she went on: “There
really wasn’t any harm in it when it began.
It was last winter. One day Berry and I had been
laughing over some of the ‘Personals’ in
the ‘Herald,’ and just for fun we wrote
one ourselves and sent it to the paper. It was
an advertisement. We pretended it came from a
lady who wanted to make the acquaintance of an eligible
gentleman with a view to matrimony. We made it
as ridiculous as we could, and we signed it ‘Laura,’
and said that all the answers could be sent to the
Station D Post-office.”
“And did you get any answers?”
“Oh, quantities! I never
imagined that people could be so foolish. Why,
there were a hundred and thirty the very first day,
and ever so many afterward. Some of them were
sentimental, and some of them were ridiculous, and
some were really funny. I think the funny ones
came from people who suspected that the advertisement
was a hoax; but we got a great deal of amusement out
of it, and we never for a moment dreamed that any
one would suspect who put it in. Oh, how I wish
we never had; for it brought that horrible man down
upon us, and since then we have never had any peace
of our lives.”
“What horrible man?” asked
Candace, more and more surprised.
“You saw him at Fort Greene.
I don’t know who he is myself, really. He
says his name is James Alexander, but he tells such
frightful lies that I don’t believe it is his
real name at all. He is a dreadful creature,
and he has treated us so ” Georgie
broke down into another fit of crying.
“But I don’t understand,”
said Candace. “How could he treat you badly?
How did he come to know you? What right had he
to speak to you at all?”
“Oh, no right!” explained
Georgie, quivering with sobs. “It was only
that he found out about the advertisement, and then
he frightened us. He suspected something, and
hung about the post-office and watched, till one time
when Berry and I went to get the ‘Laura’
letters. Then he followed us home, and found
out where we both lived, and wrote to say that he
had become possessed of our secret, and that he was
a poor man in need of money, and if we would at once
send him twenty-five dollars he would keep silent
about it; but if not, he should feel bound to write
to our friends, and let them know what we had been
doing. We were both scared to death at this threat,
and we made haste to send him the money, hoping that
he would keep his word, and that we should never hear
of him again. But we might have known better;
for the very next week he wrote again, demanding fifty.
And so it has gone on ever since. He never gives
us any peace. We have to send him all he asks
for, or else he declares he will call on papa, and
not only tell him about the advertisement, but all
sorts of horrible things which are not true at all.
He won’t believe that it was only to amuse ourselves
that we sent the notice to the paper, and he hints
the most dreadful things, and says papa and Mrs. Joy
will be sure to believe him! Berry and I have
grown so afraid that we would give a million, if we
had it, to bribe him to go away and never let us hear
from him again. But even that would be no use,
for he would come back and demand another million,”
ended poor Georgie.
“And he actually comes up to
Newport, and follows you about, and makes you give
him money!” said Candace, horror-stricken at
this glimpse of the hidden suffering endured by these
two prosperous, cared-for girls, who were supposed
to be without a sorrow in the world.
“Indeed, he does. He came
that time when you saw him, the middle of August;
and he wrote Berry a note to say that he must speak
to us, and that if we didn’t meet him somewhere,
he should appeal to Mrs. Joy. We had to consent,
of course, and we gave him all the money we had, and
we thought he was gone; but just a few days after
he appeared again on the Polo Ground, and handed Berry
a note, which he pretended she had dropped out of
the carriage. But it was really from himself;
and he said that he had lost the money we gave him
on a bet which had turned out badly, and he must have
a hundred dollars more. You can’t think
how hard it has been for us to raise all this money,
Cannie. Berry has her own income, but her mother
likes to know what she does with it; and mamma chooses
my things for me, so I don’t have much of an
allowance. We have been at our wits’ end
sometimes to know how to manage.”
“And how did you?”
“Berry sold a diamond ring which
she doesn’t often wear, so her mother has not
missed it, and I put in thirty dollars, which was all
I had; and he went away, for good as we hoped.
He promised solemnly not to come to Newport, or ask
us for money again this season; and we were so relieved.
For a few days I was almost happy,” with a miserable
little laugh. “But what fools we were to
believe him! I can’t imagine why we should,
for he has deceived us all through. I don’t
think he has spoken the truth once from the very beginning.
Berry came just now to tell me that he is back already.
She saw him herself this morning in Thames Street.
He didn’t see her, for she was in the close
coupe, and he was looking in at a shop window; but,
of course, he has come for money, and neither of us
has any more. We shall have to refuse, and he
will go straight to papa, and then oh,
what will become of me?” She buried her face
again in the pillows.
Candace was trembling with a mixture
of sensations, pity for her cousin, indignation
at this mean persecution of which she was the victim,
and withal a fine touch of scorn over the weakness
which was so easily played upon. With all her
country breeding and ignorance of the world and its
ways, there was in our little maiden a large share
of the strong, self-respecting pride of her ancestry.
She would never have stooped to buy the silence
of a low knave like this Alexander; and her clear
truthfulness of soul indicated at once the single,
straight, unerring clew which could lead out of this
labyrinth of difficulties.
“Georgie,” she said, after
a moment’s thought, “there is just one
thing for you to do. You must tell Cousin Kate
all about this.”
“Oh, Candace, never!”
screamed Georgie. “Tell mamma! Have
mamma know! I’d rather die at once.
You have no idea how she despises concealments and
deceits; and I have had to plot and contrive, almost
to tell lies, all through this wretched time.
She would never get over it. Even if she said
she forgave me, I should always read a sort of contempt
in her eyes whenever she looked at me. Oh, mamma,
mamma! And I love her so! Candace, I couldn’t.”
“It is the only way,” repeated Candace,
firmly.
“You have promised not to tell!”
exclaimed her cousin, starting up from her recumbent
position. “You promised me solemnly!
You’ll not forget that, will you, Cannie?
You’ll not tell mother yourself?”
“Certainly not. What use
would it be for me to tell her? It would be only
next best to having Alexander do it. But you, you,
Georgie, that is a different thing.”
“Even Gertrude said she couldn’t
advise me to tell mamma,” continued Georgie.
“Gertrude! Does Gertrude know about it
then?”
“Yes; I had to tell somebody,
I was so miserable. It was only a little while
ago that I told her. I kept it to myself for a
long time.”
“Gertrude!” repeated Candace,
unable to hide her amazement. “And what
did she say?”
“Oh, she was horrified, of course.
Any one would be; and she threw a great deal of blame
on Berry. I don’t think she has ever liked
her since. She always goes out of the room when
she comes. She wanted me to do all sorts of impossible
things, such as going to the chief of police.
But about mamma, she felt just as I did. You see
we both think so much of mamma, Cannie; we care so
much about having her approve of us. You haven’t
any mother; so perhaps you can’t understand.”
“No,” said Candace, “I
have no mother. Perhaps it makes a difference.
But there is another thing I can’t understand,
and that is how girls who have a mother such
a mother as yours, Georgie can be content
to keep her love by means of a cheat. If I did
have a mother, I should want her to know all about
me, and approve of me honestly, not because I was
hiding things from her. Besides,” there
was a little choke here, “I think
mothers can stand a good deal, and still keep on loving
their children. I don’t believe Cousin
Kate would be hard on you, Georgie, or despise you
because you have been foolish.”
“You don’t half know mamma,”
repeated Georgie. “She has such high ideas
about conduct. It would half kill her to know
that I had even spoken to a man like this Alexander.”
“Of course she would be sorry,”
persisted Candace. “Of course she would
rather that you had never got into this scrape.
But she is so just always, as well as kind. She
always sees both sides. She will understand how
it began, that Berry over-persuaded you ”
“What makes you say that?”
interrupted Georgie. “I never told you that
Berry over-persuaded me.”
“No; but I knew it all the same.
It’s a matter of course,” said Candace,
too deeply in earnest to pick her words, or realize
what a very uncomplimentary thing she was saying,
“Berry Joy always makes you do whatever she
likes. Cousin Kate will realize how it was in
a minute.”
“Well, never mind that.
I want to talk about mamma. Don’t you see
that if I did tell her she couldn’t do anything
unless she told papa? and that is the very thing I
want to prevent. Oh, what was that?” as
the clock began to strike. “Six! They
will be here in ten minutes. Oh, dear! how can
I meet her? My eyes are swelled out of my head.
She will be sure to notice.” And Georgie
hurried to the looking-glass, and began to smooth
the tangled fluffs of hair on her forehead.
Cannie’s heart was hot within
her, but she wisely forbore further remonstrance.
She brought a basin of water and a sponge, and helped
Georgie to bathe and cool her tear-stained face, and
to arrange her dishevelled locks. Then she kissed
her softly, and moved across the room to the window.
Georgie stole after her, and stood by her side.
It was nearly time for the travellers to arrive from
the train. A cool sea-wind was stirring.
Through the trees a red glow could be seen in the
west, where the sun was nearing the horizon.
There was a sound of wheels, and the
Frewens’ village-cart drove rapidly in and set
Marian down on the porch. As it drove away, another
carriage met and passed it at the gate. It was
the coupe, and Mrs. Gray and Gertrude were inside.
With a shriek of joy Marian shot down the gravel walk
to meet them. John stopped his horses, Mrs. Gray
jumped out, and Marian sprang into her arms.
The lookers-on at the window above could see the whole
pretty picture, the lovely sunny-faced mother,
the glad child; they could hear Mrs. Gray’s
sweet laugh as she bent over and kissed Marian again
and again.
“Oh, Georgie, Georgie,”
cried Candace, her eyes suddenly brimming over with
tears, “look at that, look at them! Was
there ever any one so sweet and loving and dear as
Cousin Kate? See how she holds Marian in her
arms, how she kisses her! How can you be
afraid of her? How can you doubt one minute that
she loves you enough to forgive anything? Oh,
if I had such a mother, would I stay away from her,
and cheat and conceal, and trust a girl like Berry
Joy, and a bad man like this Alexander, and not trust
her? not go to her first of all for help
and advice? Think how good and kind she is, how
glad to help everybody, poor people, servants;
think how lovely she has been to me, and,
of course, she loves you a hundred times more!
How can you hesitate one minute? Oh, go straight
to her, dear, dear Georgie; tell her all about it,
your own self. She will know just what to do.
She will make it all right for you. Think how
happy you will be not to be afraid of anything any
more. Oh, Georgie, do, do!”
“Why, Candace, I hardly know
you,” faltered Georgie; and she spoke truly,
for Candace in her intense eagerness seemed to grow
out of and beyond herself, and looked taller, older,
quite unlike the shy Candace of every day. Then
the passion of her appeal caught hold of Georgie’s
weakness. Deep feeling is contagious, and there
are moments when cowards become temporarily brave.
Candace’s rush of words, her mother’s tender
look and attitude as she held Marian close to her,
or, it may be, some swift impulse from her good angel,
seemed to melt her out of her mood of resistance.
How it happened she could not have told, she never
could tell; but a sudden strength came to her, and
the next moment she was out in the hall. Mrs.
Gray, slowly coming upstairs, was clasped in a wild,
despairing embrace.
“Oh, mamma! I want you.
Oh, mamma! I’ve something to tell you,”
cried Georgie. Her mother, whose smile had changed
to a look of pale amazement, could not speak.
She suffered herself to be swept away. The door
of Georgie’s room closed behind them; and Gertrude,
who was following close behind, was left on the landing
to confront the equally surprised Candace.
“What is it? What is Georgie
going to say to mamma?” demanded Gertrude, in
a frightened whisper.
“She is going to tell her about
that horrible man who has been making her so unhappy,”
replied Candace.
“Going to tell mamma! oh, how did she ever get
courage?”
“I begged her I told her it was the
only way.”
“You! why, Cannie, how did you
dare?” cried Gertrude. “I never would
have ventured to do that.”
“So Georgie said,” replied
Candace, simply; “but I was sure the thing to
do was for her to go straight to Cousin Kate.”