XXIII
"WHAT'S DONE CAN'T BE UNDONE"
"Don't be frightened, Mums! It's only me, back earlier than I expected,"Ellen Blackburne announced herself at the door of her mother's bedroom.
Mrs. Blackburne was propped up in bed, reading Young's "Night Thoughts."
"Of course, I'm not frightened!" she reassured her daughter. "I'm onlysurprised. That's what makes my hands tremble."
"I was in hopes you'd have gone to sleep," said Ellen, "and I could slipin without giving you a start. I stopped the taxi at the corner onpurpose."
"I'm delighted to have you back. But why did you bring the pearls hometo string? Now you'll be sitting up the whole blessed night!"
"Don't you worry!" Ellen soothed her. "I'm not going to sit up. I'mgoing to bed. Shall I leave the door open between the rooms while Iundress, or shall I just kiss you good-night now, and let you rest inpeace?"
The little woman had sat down on the edge of the bed, but as she spoke,she stood up. It struck the older woman that, for some reason, she wasin a hurry to get away.
"There's something you don't want to tell me, isn't there, dear?" hermother quietly observed.
"Well, you have the most wonderful intuition!" Ellen praised her parent."I believe you could see through a wall. It's only that I didn't want towake you up and make you nervous, so you would have a bad night."
"I shall have a better night if I don't need to rack my brain thinkingover what might have happened."
"Oh, all right!" sighed Ellen, and sat down again. "You're a grandsafety valve, you know, Mums, because I can talk to you, and be surethat whatever I say will be locked up in your strong box. I meant towrite all this down in my notebook, with initials instead of names; butthe diary can't give advice. You can. Only--you're certain we hadn'tbest wait till to-morrow?"
"I shouldn't close my eyes!" said Mrs. Blackburne. "But I can say thisto begin with: You did the right thing. You always do."
"This is different from anything that ever came into my experience,"Ellen answered.
"I told you before I started, I thought I was in for an exciting job. Itwasn't only that Mr. Sands is a sort of celebrity, and everyone has beentalking of Mrs. Sands as a beauty. It was the man himself gave me a kindof thrilled feeling the minute I saw him. Mums, Roger Sands is the sortI could fall in love with, if I was the falling-in-love type. He'sstrong and silent. He isn't a bit a woman's man. I don't know how todescribe him, exactly. He made me feel as if I longed to do somethingfor him. I was mighty keen to see what Mrs. Sands would be like. Isuppose to see what style of woman he'd worship enough to pick up fromthe gutter."
"Goodness me, child!" broke in Mrs. Blackburne, absorbed. "You don'tmean that's where she came from? I never heard----"
"No--no! I oughtn't to have used that expression," Ellen confessed,"though they tell all sorts of stories about her origin. I daresay noneof 'em are right, and not a soul knows the truth. People have given hera nickname: 'the girl from nowhere.' But you've only to see her torealize at once that whatever she was, she must have been brought uplike a princess."
"Handsome?"
"A dream of beauty. She's worthy of her husband that way, but she's notin other ways. That's my excuse."
"Your excuse, lovey? For what?"
"For what I did. But you won't know why I did it, or forgive me fordoing it, unless I tell you the story as I understand it."
"Go right on, dear, and take your time. I won't interrupt again." SoEllen gave her mother a succinct account of all that had befallen her,until the fateful moment when she discovered that the pearls were not intheir case.
"The case empty! The pearls gone! My goodness me!" gasped the old lady.
"I never had such a scare in my life. Mrs. Sands had told me how she'dbeen dressing in her bedroom, with the door wide open into the boudoir,because the pearls were there, all ready for me to begin on, if Iarrived before she'd got into her gown. She either believed the pearlswere in the case, or else she wanted me to believe she believed it! Thedesperate state she was in, under her pretty manner, made me think maybeshe was playing some dreadful trick, and after I'd got over the firstshock of surprise I was mad with that woman. 'She doesn't care if sheruins me, so she can save herself from a scrape,' was what I thoughtabout her. I made up my mind I wouldn't be catspaw, to pull herchestnuts out of the fire."
"What did you do?" breathed Mrs. Blackburne, sitting straight up in bed.
"I rang the bell for the butler. He came to the door in an instant. Itold him to call Mrs. Sands at once, it was urgent. I thought that wouldfetch her, but it didn't. It was the man who came back. He seemed a bitembarrassed: Mrs. Sands was very busy at the moment, it would be alittle while before she was at liberty. It came into my head that shewas leaving me alone as long as possible in the room where her wonderfulpearls were supposed to be, so she could accuse me of making away withthem, when the truth had to come out, that the pearls were gone. I sawjust one thing to do. I told the butler to call Mr. Sands, quick. 'Mr.Sands is just going,' he said. 'I was ready to help him on with his coatwhen you rang.' 'Well, beg him to step in here one instant,' said I. Theman went out; and I couldn't have counted ten before Mr. Sands appeared.I pointed to the empty case that was open on the table, and explained inabout a dozen words--I wanted to finish before Madam arrived!--that Mrs.Sands had told me to look in the case for the pearls; that she went outin a hurry; and when I looked, the pearls weren't there. 'I sent andasked her to come,' I went on, 'but she was busy.'
"Well, Mother, the face of that man just broke my heart! It was more asif some awful thing he'd half expected, had come true. I might havestuck a knife in his heart.
"'Does my wife know you asked for me when she couldn't come?' was thefirst thing he said after he'd stood quite still for a second or two. Itold him no, I'd taken the responsibility on myself, and I hoped Ihadn't done wrong.
"'Not wrong,' said he. 'You meant well, I'm sure. Still, I wish the newshad come to me from my wife and no one else.'
"Then he walked over to the window, and stood looking out. If I hadn'tknown he was there, I shouldn't have seen him. The curtains were drawn,not all across, but partly, and it was a sort of bay window, so therewas room for him to stand behind the curtains, in the shadow they made.He hadn't been there two seconds, I give you my word, when the door flewopen, and Mrs. Sands bounced in.
"'You sent for me?' she asked, and threw a look round the room, as ifsearching for someone. I felt I should die if her husband came out--buthe didn't. I managed to stammer that the pearls weren't in their case,and so on; and it seemed as if my words turned her to a block of marble!She just stared at me. 'Maybe you think I stole the pearls!' I saidright out. She assured me quite nicely that she believed nothing sofoolish, and that even if I'd wanted to steal the things, I couldn'thave smuggled them away from the house. (Of course, I could, though, ifthere had been time.) My heart melted to her, I must confess. But I wasthinking more of her husband. It was up to me to get him out of the fix.I suggested to Mrs. Sands calling in Clo, to see what she could make ofthe business. The instant she was gone, out from the bay window stalkedher husband! By that time I was at the door. I'd opened it for Mrs.Sands. I hardly dared glance at him--it seemed so prying. All Iknow--for sure, now--is that he stopped for an instant at the table. Hehad to pass it, on the way from his hiding place to the door. I supposedthen, when he paused there, that he would be gazing at the empty velvetcase. But he may have been doing something different--I'll tell you whyand what, in a minute.
"I stood without moving, and, as he came near the door he stopped again.'Miss Blackburne,' he said, 'you've been mixed up against your will, andnot by any fault of your own, in an unfortunate business. It's a familyaffair, and I feel certain you'll keep your own counsel. Don't think I'mtrying to bribe you. I'm not. But I should like you to accept this.' Myarms were hanging straight down at my sides, but he managed to sticksomething into one of my hands. What do you think it was?"
"Fifty dollars?" her mother
guessed.
"Fifty fiddlesticks! It was five hundred!"
"My heavens! Enough to pay off the mortgage. But you couldn't possiblyaccept it?"
"I said no. I swore that I'd done nothing to earn a cent: that wildhorses wouldn't drag from me anything I'd seen, or heard, or evenimagined, in his house. But Mr. Sands insisted. 'It will give mepleasure for you to have the money. It's little enough,' he said. Thenhe walked right out. He must have gone back to his own room instead ofleaving the flat just then, for I saw him again later. I'll tell youabout that. But do you think it was wrong to keep the money?"
"In the circumstances, no," Mrs. Blackburne decided. "It would have hurthis feelings to give it back. Oh, my dear, five hundred dollars! It'slike a fairy gift, just when we're needing it so much!"
"Well, I'd got the bills tucked away when Mrs. Sands came running in.She made for the table, the way a pointer goes for a shot bird. Shehadn't a glance for the velvet case. She was searching for somethingelse. Oh, Mother, it scared me to see her! She threw everything about.She was out of her head. A tall vase of flowers tipped over, andsplashed water on the books, and even on the velvet case. I don't thinkshe knew it had happened. Books fell on the floor. She didn't see orcare. Then she sank all of a heap into a big chair close by. 'Theenvelope?' she gasped, as if she were choked by a hand on her throat.'It was there. Where is it now?'
"I told her I hadn't seen any envelope, which was perfectly true. Shedescribed it: quite a big, long envelope, made of linen, and sealed upwith several red seals. I swore over again I hadn't seen an envelope ofany description. At last she had to believe me. But the worst was tocome. 'Did you leave the room, for so much as a second, after I leftyou?' she asked, with her eyes on my face. I told her I hadn't stirredoutside the door; but what I was scared of came next: 'Did any one comein?'"
"Oh, lovey, I hope you didn't have to tell a falsehood?"
"That depends on what you call a falsehood," said Miss Blackburne. "Ihate fibs as much as you do. But it was an awful fix!"
"It was," Mums agreed.
"You see," Ellen went on, to make her position clear, "I had asked Mr.Sands not to let his wife know I'd called him in. Later, he pressed thatmoney on me, and I accepted it. I felt as if it had bought me, body andsoul. When he stood by the table, he must have seen that envelope, andtaken it. Well, now, I ask you, could I give him away?"
"I don't see how you could," wailed the old lady.
"Neither did I. 'Did any one come in?' I echoed, when Mrs. Sands put thequestion. 'Wouldn't I have mentioned it to you the first thing, if anyone had?' Was that a falsehood, or wasn't it?"
"It was a prevarication," answered Mrs. Blackburne, "and I think Ishould have done the same thing."
"Thank goodness!" sighed Ellen. "That's what I wanted to know. You don'tblame me, then?"
"I feel you acted for the best. And it's done now!"
"Yes, it's done, and can't be undone," the pearl-stringer echoed.
The Lion's Mouse Page 23
