Read Ebook: Folkways A Study of the Sociological Importance of Usages Manners Customs Mores and Morals by Sumner William Graham

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Ebook has 3179 lines and 295222 words, and 64 pages

Maureen made no answer for she could not. Dominic, feeling very stiff and tall and determined, went as far as the study door. The Reverend Patrick lived in his study; it was his room of rooms. The lad was just about to go in when he heard voices, which surprised him and made his stout young heart stand still. One voice was his father's, the other his step-mother's.

EAVESDROPPING.

Dominic had never in his short life of fifteen years been known to do an underhand or mean thing. It is true he had plenty of faults--for what lad has not--but his virtues outshone strong passions, and nobody in reality guessed that he possessed a wild, fearless, and adventurous nature.

"Constance, you can't do it--you cannot be so cruel!"

"I was half-way to Kingsala," was the reply, "when it suddenly flashed over me, Patrick, that you had better know my intentions, so I returned on purpose. I'm going straight to see Mr. Murphy, the solicitor, and after telling you first, I shall have a round talk with him. My talk will be with regard to Maureen."

"Yes," replied the Rector.

There was a pause, but the young eavesdropper had very sharp ears.

"You told me yourself, you silly man, that you are dying. It is true, that having taken the best medical advice, you may possibly hold on for a year or two, but you confess that your days are numbered. Now a year here or there does not much matter to me. I shall be a widow before long. Now I have my own girls to provide for--my Daisy and my Henrietta. I can do well for them, and your insurance money and your private means are settled on Kitty and the two boys by marriage settlement. There is nothing, therefore, for Maureen. When you adopted her, Patrick, you should have provided for her. I tell you, frankly and plainly, that after your death I will do nothing for the child. Maureen will be a beggar. She has never been properly educated, and I see nothing for her but to go into service. If she were a little taller she might make a parlourmaid. It is a pity she is so short and so plain. Well, I am outspoken. I tell you the exact truth. Maureen will not get one shilling from me, and your children's money cannot be touched; so now you know."

"Constance, you can speak like that to a dying man. May God forgive your cold heart. Once, Constance, I thought you both beautiful and good; I was even fool enough to think there was something of the angel about you. Alas, I quickly learnt my mistake. Now, Constance, I will tell you plainly that my children and Maureen share and share alike."

"Ah," said Mrs. O'Brien, with a sort of groan, "how very stupid and silly you are, Patrick; but when you talk with Mr. Murphy he will tell you a very different story."

"Listen to me, Constance," continued the Rector, "I know well that I have not long to live, but I may hold out for a few years. My boys, my girl, and I will provide for Maureen. I never told you how she came into the family."

"You did not; but I cannot wait to hear your romantic story now. I may miss Mr. Murphy."

"Constance, you must wait. It will not take up five minutes of your time. My little brown-eyed Maureen came to me in this fashion. I had a twin-brother. I loved him better than myself. The thought of meeting him again is one of the joys I look forward to; he died of wounds received in the field of battle. His young wife had died before him, and he left his little child, Maureen, to me. I brought her up as my own. The boys look upon her as their sister. Kitty does the same. Little Maureen came to the Rectory, and since then her sweetness and innocence have helped me to bear the greatest sorrow of my life--the loss of that brother who was dearer to me than myself. Now you can go, Constance, but Maureen shall be provided for."

"You are about the most silly, out-of-the-world person I ever came across," said Mrs. O'Brien. "Well, let me tell you that your story about yourself and your twin-brother does not affect me in the least. When you die, Maureen has to earn her living--or go to the workhouse. Well, you know the truth. As to upsetting your marriage settlement, it cannot be done. Ta-ta. I may not be back until very late. I was always outspoken, and shall be to my dying day."

The overdressed woman turned swiftly and left the room.

Softly, very softly, Dominic hid himself behind a shabby old screen in the narrow passage which led to the Rector's study. Mrs. O'Brien was soon returning to Kingsala, and Mr. O'Brien, feeling himself alone, weak and suffering, laid his head on his hands and groaned aloud.

"My little Maureen!" he murmured. "God, my Heavenly Father, help me. Can it be possible that what the woman says is true--that terrible woman, whom once I loved and--and married? Oh, my God, to have to face Maurice, my dearest brother, and tell him about little Maureen."

Just then a light touch rested on the stricken man's shoulder. He raised his face and saw with astonishment his young son Dominic beside him.

"Dad," said Dominic, "Maureen and I were talking together about you. You can't imagine, dad, how lovely the air is outside. We were a bit anxious about you--Maureen and I--and we thought--Maureen and I did--that you might come out and lie on the thick rug with a pile of pillows under your head. You know the spot I mean. It is where the periwinkles grow and the tall trees shelter us from the hottest rays of the sun. Well, it was a little plan we made between us, Maureen and I; but when I came to fetch you--I'm not ashamed to own it, dearest old dad,--but the door was a bit open, and I heard voices and I listened. 'Herself' had come back and I heard her say that she would do nothing at all for Maureen; then I heard you say, you blessed man, that you would, when the time came, divide all your own money between Kitty and Maureen and Denis and myself. You will do it, won't you, dear dad?"

"Yes, my son, if it is possible."

"Listen, Dominic. Perhaps you had no right to overhear, but on the other hand perhaps God meant it. Anyhow you are on my side now."

"Dad, tell me the very truth. You are not really ill?"

"Yes, my son, really."

"But I mean"--the boy's voice choked--"badly?"

"Yes, lad, very badly."

"Still, you may live for years."

"Dad, there never was your like before. We'll go, and we'll put things as right as possible; and now, would it at all comfort you to come out and lie on the periwinkles where Maureen is waiting, for she has heard a few words, nothing of any consequence, but they have troubled her, and her dear, brave little heart is almost breaking. She loves you so passionately."

"Yes, we'll go," said the Rector.

He rose very slowly, and, leaning on his son's arm, presently approached the spot where Maureen, wondering at the long delay, was sitting up and waiting. She had her hands clasped round her knees, and the tears which filled her eyes a short time ago had ceased to flow, for Maureen was not what she called a "cry-baby"; but the soft brown eyes were all the same full of wild fear. When she saw her uncle and cousin, however, she gave a glad exclamation, sprang to her feet, and ran forward to meet Uncle Pat.

"Oh, but this is heavenly," cried the child; "oh, but you have come to me your own self, you blessed darling." Then she and Dominic between them arranged the thick rug and the soft but shabby pillows, and the Rector lay down while Dominic with a bright nod to his little mate ran quickly away.

"But whatever happens, father and I will settle about Maureen," he said to his troubled heart. "Darling Maureen!"

Meanwhile Maureen herself was in her element. She might cry afterwards, but she was certainly not going to cry now. She was a very young little girl, but she had in many ways far more self-control than her older cousin, and her only object now was to comfort and cheer Uncle Pat.

"The Bible says so, my little girl."

"And the souls go up and up," continued Maureen, "and enter in and go out no more. And the Lord Jesus Christ has made mansions for them to live in, and there is the River of Life and the Tree of Life which is for the healing of the nations; and my Father is there. It must be very, very nice to be there; don't you think so, Uncle Pat?"

"Yes, Maureen."

"But we are down here, at present," said Maureen, "so we must do with this little bit of the earth, and I'm just awfully happy when I'm with you and Dom. Now I want to tell you all the funny stories I can think of. I want to make you laugh. Do you know that I'm studying French very hard, and I came across such a strange bit the other day. It was about the funniest story I ever read. May I try and tell it to you--only I won't be able to do it any sort of justice?"

"Yes, tell it to me, Maureen, my blessing."

The Rector was intensely amused at Maureen's story, inquired what French book she had got it out of, and really, for the time, in this bright little girl's presence, he forgot himself and his anxieties. They went on chatting and laughing. The air blew soft as a zephyr, and Uncle Pat thought less of his troubles; the colour came into his cheeks and the light into his eyes. Maureen from her earliest days had been a born story-teller, and her uncle was wondering if her undoubted talent might not be turned to account for her benefit later on. They told many other stories, each to the other, but suddenly Maureen uttered an exclamation.

"Look, do look, Uncle Pat," she cried.

There was Dominic coming towards them. He had got over his fit of intolerable crying, and managed, by washing his face, to get rid of the tears which had disfigured it so badly. When he saw Uncle Pat and Maureen chatting and laughing together, he felt in a dream; but it was a happy dream, and his spirits revived.

"Daddy," he said, "the 'Step' is at Kingsala."

"Yes, my boy."

"Well, I have brought this tray out. Here is a cup of chocolate for you which Pegeen made. I went to her myself to the kitchen and I saw her make it, with the purest milk and not one drop of water. Then she cut a lot of bread and butter and made some toast for you, and she clapped her hands when she heard 'Step' was away; and here are beautiful strawberries for yourself and Maureen and for me. We are going to have a jolly picnic tea all together seated on the periwinkles."

"I have had a very jolly time with Maureen. She is a very clever little girl," said the Rector.

"And they are," said the Rector. "I declare I feel quite hungry."

He sipped his chocolate and ate a little of the ripe fruit, and the children watched him and ate bread and butter and drank tea and took what strawberries were left. By-and-by it became a trifle chill, whereupon Maureen instantly took the part of a small mother and wrapped her uncle up and took him back to the house.

About nine o'clock Mrs. O'Brien returned. Her cold sort of beauty, for she was still comparatively young, had a triumphant gleam in it on this occasion. She ate a large supper heartily, and did not once inquire about her husband's state of health. Some years ago, when her husband's cough troubled her, she arranged a large luxurious room on the first floor for herself, but he continued to sleep, when he could sleep at all, in the bare apartment where he had lived with such happiness with his first dear wife. In this room Dominic and Denis and Kitty were born. In this room the first Mrs. O'Brien had passed on into the Holy City.

On this special night something induced Constance O'Brien to go up to her husband's bedroom. He was dropping asleep as she bounced in.

"Good-night, Constance," said Patrick O'Brien, "and try, my wife, to keep your heart from hard thoughts. For, believe me, when you come to stand where I now stand--on the edge of the world--you will be glad, very glad, that you have done so."

Mrs. O'Brien, for reply, whisked away.

Meanwhile another glorious summer day dawned on the world. Mr. O'Brien ordered the phaeton to be brought round at ten o'clock, and, accompanied by his young son Dominic, went to see Murphy, the well-known solicitor at Kingsala. Murphy received him with the affectionate, warm-hearted greeting which characterises good-tempered Irishmen. O'Brien put the whole case before him. Murphy listened attentively, tapping his heel now and then, and now and then giving a low, significant whistle under his breath. When the story had come to an end there was a complete silence between the two men for the space of a minute. Dominic, who was in the background and was not noticed at all, felt strangely uncomfortable, for he did not like the expression in Murphy's small shrewd eyes.

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