Read Ebook: Sweet Content by Molesworth Mrs Rainey W William Illustrator

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Ebook has 79 lines and 8566 words, and 2 pages

At last the cab drew up in front of a large, regular London house. We got out. The door was opened by a footman, and further back in the hall were one or two other men-servants. It was a stately, rather old-fashioned house. How strange to think that it belonged to the queer old woman I had so mistaken!

"Is Mrs Fetherston at home?" mamma inquired. It was now about half-past two; we had chosen the time well. The footman hesitated.

"I think my mistress is at home," he said, "but she don't see many visitors." Mamma smiled so sweetly that he could not help adding: "I can inquire if--"

"Perhaps you had better take my card to her, as it is really on business. And pray say I will not detain her many minutes."

At the word "business" the man hesitated again; but he saw that we had kept the cab; that did not look much like ladylike impostors. "Will you step in?" he began again.

In her turn mamma hesitated.

"We could wait in the cab," she said to me doubtfully. But it was a very cold day.

At that moment a tall, thin, dark-complexioned man--a gentleman, I mean--crossed the hall.

"Shut the door, David," he said hastily. But then seeing us there he came forward a little way, courteously, "I beg your pardon, won't you come in?"

We did so, sufficiently at least for David to shut the door; then the man turned to the gentleman to explain the state of the case.

"Do come in," the gentleman repeated, throwing open the door of a library which looked warm and comfortable.

"I am half afraid Mrs Fetherston--"

Mamma and I glanced at each other. She was going to speak, I think, but I forestalled her.

"Major Whyte," I said, "please may we tell you about it? Mamma--mamma is Mrs Percy," I added.

He was very quick-witted. He seemed to know in an instant. Indeed, though we did not hear that till afterwards, he had that morning got a letter from his cousin, explaining the mystery of "Mary's" strange behaviour! And in another moment we were in the library with him, the door closed, and David told to wait till he was rung for, while mamma told our story. Major White listened most attentively while mamma, clearly and without hesitation--except just once, and that was at the part about my naughty rudeness, when she stopped and glanced at me; "I need not say how deeply Constantia has grieved over this," she said-- related everything. The only sound besides her voice was Major Whyte's cough, the sort of cough one cannot bear to hear. And when she stopped, for a minute or two he could not speak for coughing; his thin brown face grew so painfully red, and he seemed to shake all over. How sorry I felt for him!

Mamma waited quietly. Then glancing round she caught sight of a carafe of water and a glass on the side-table. She poured some out and brought it to him.

"Thank you--so much," he said, and in a little he was able to speak again.

"I see it all, of course," he said. "It is brave of your daughter to have come herself, Mrs Percy, and it seems to me it was the best thing to do. There is certainly a very strong likeness between her and Mary, though I have not seen Mary for four years. If I had been told you were Mary," he went on, turning to me with a smile, "I think I should have believed it. Now, have you the courage to beard the--to come with me to Mrs Fetherston alone? I think, perhaps, that is the best chance."

Mamma and I looked at each other, and Major Whyte looked at us both.

"Yes," I said, "I'll come alone, if it's best."

"Bravo," said our new friend--I felt he was a friend at once--and he held out his hand to me in a way I could not resist or resent, though generally I stood on my dignity a good deal. "We had been thinking of trying a rather desperate experiment to bring my poor aunt to her senses," he said. "But I believe your effort will be more successful."

"What is it, Hugo?" she said, at the sound of my conductor's footsteps. "There you are again, in and out as usual, exposing yourself to every draught, of course."

The sharp tones, the queer, black, unnatural-looking curls were all too familiar to me. I could not help shivering a little.

He stood still to watch the effect of his audacity. The old lady began to tremble a little, though she tried to hide it. But this gave me courage, because it made me sorry for her.

"Who--who are you then? Who do you say you are?" she said, in a shaky, quavering voice.

I came towards her and stood full in the light such a light as there is on a winter's day in a London back-drawing-room--I pushed my hat back-- it fell off, and my fair hair came tumbling over my face. Major Whyte picked up my hat; I shook back my hair. The old lady could see me quite plainly.

She looked at me still for some seconds, without speaking. Then she turned to her nephew.

"I can see now that there is no real likeness to Frank," she said coolly. "Still the mistake was a very natural one, meeting her where I did, and the superficial resemblance of colouring, and so on, to what you had told me of the second girl, and to her photograph."

My voice began to break as I said the last words; the long strain was beginning to tell on me. I felt the tears coming, and I tried to choke them down. I knew Mrs Fetherston's keen eyes were on me.

Major Whyte started and a bright look of pleasure lighted up his face.

"Aunt Angela," he began joyfully. Then I think the remembrance of what he had said came over him suddenly, for he turned to me.

"My dear child," he said, "you must forgive me. I forgot."

"No, no, please," I said, though I was crying by this time. "I don't mind; it was quite true."

But at that moment we were all startled by a knock at the door--this room was the old lady's private sitting-room and a man-servant, not David--an older one--appeared in answer to Mrs Fetherston's "Come in."

"A--a gentleman to see Major Whyte, if you please, ma'am," he said; adding in a lower tone, "I think it's something rather particular."

Major Whyte turned to go, but a fit of coughing interrupted him.

"My poor boy, you are killing yourself," said his aunt; "Freeland, bring the gentleman up here if it is anything particular. Your master can't go running up and down stairs in this way."

TRUE HEARTS.

We all waited, without speaking. Poor Major Whyte indeed seemed exhausted by his cough. There was a feeling in the air, I think, as if something strange were going to happen.

And in a very few moments there came the sound of footsteps up the stairs, and then crossing the two big drawing-rooms. And then--the door opened. Freeland murmured something, and I saw coming through the doorway the familiar figure of Captain Whyte, and close behind him the sweet fair face of dear Mary.

Perhaps the last three words were spoken more loudly in my excitement; perhaps the old lady's ears were as sharp as her eyes! However it was, she heard, and she smiled.

He came to her at once; I turned away, and somehow or other I found myself with Major Whyte in the outer room.

"Do you--do you really think it is going to be all right?" I could not help saying to him.

He nodded; for a moment or two it seemed as if he could not speak, and I think there were tears in his eyes. His voice was husky when he did speak, but that might have been from his cough.

And as I glanced up at his kind, worn face, there seemed to me to be a light about it--a light such as one never sees save in the face of those who have suffered much, and have learnt to thank God for both sorrow and joy. I knew then that poor Major Whyte was not--as our simple country-folk say--was not "long for this world." I never saw him again, and I had never seen him before, but I have never forgotten him.

All my plans of what I would say, how I would ask him to forgive me, flew out of my head. I just rushed up to him and threw my arms round him and burst into tears.

"Oh, papa, papa!" I said.

He did not repulse me; he did not speak for a moment, but I felt his kind, firm clasp. Then he said:

"My poor little girl," and he stooped and kissed me. The kiss said everything.

Mamma came forward.

"Tom, dear," she began, a little nervously, "we have a great deal to tell you."

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