The Fortunes of the Farrells

by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey

  CHAPTER THREE.

  A PROPOSAL AND A REFUSAL.

  It was tacitly understood in the household that after Easter Ruth wasgoing to do "something" to retrieve the family fortunes, but what that"something" should be remained vague and undefined. Ruth herselfdebated the question morning, noon, and night, and, like many anotherpoor girl in the same position, bitterly regretted an education whichhad given her no one marketable qualification. She could play a little,draw a little, speak French a little, speak German a little less, makeher own clothes in amateur fashion, and--what else? Nothing at all thatany able-bodied woman could not accomplish equally well. If she hadconcentrated her energies on one definite thing, and learnt to do it,not pretty well, nor very well, but just as well as it could possibly bedone, what a different prospect would have stretched before her now!

  If she decided to teach, she must be content to accept juvenile pupilsand a poor salary; if she became a companion, she must sacrifice allspirit of independence, and become a dutiful drudge, while she knew inher inmost heart that it would be wrong to take up nursing, since shefelt no real vocation for the task.

  It was useless to ask advice of anyone at home, so, one afternoon, Ruthbetook herself to almost the only intimate friend she possessed,--amiddle-aged spinster who kept house for an adored doctor brother. Thebrother was a friend into the bargain--a tall, thin, clever--looking manof thirty-eight, engrossed in his practice, which was one of the mostprosperous in the neighbourhood. Brother and sister were seated at teatogether when Ruth was announced, and she looked round the pretty roomwith admiring eyes. Pink silk lamp-shades, luxurious cushions, bowls ofspring flowers, a tea equipage, bright and dainty and complete,--oh, howdelightful it all looked after the bare shabbiness of the room at home;and what fascinating clothes Eleanor was wearing!

  Despite her affection, one-and-twenty was inclined to think prettythings thrown away upon an antediluvian creature of forty, but if Ruthcould have had a glimpse of herself as "others saw her" at that moment,she might have been more content. The subdued lamp-light dealt kindlywith the old blue serge coat and skirt, the pink scarf at her neckmatched the colour on her cheeks, and the eyes underneath the blackbrows were unusually bright and animated. She was always a welcomeguest at this hospitable house, and it was a pleasant variety to bepetted and fussed over, provided with cushions and footstools, andtempted to eat by a fresh supply of hot buttered scones and a delectablechocolate cake studded over with walnuts. Ruth laughed, and dimpledinto ever brighter beauty.

  "It makes me feel so nice and young," she cried, "as if I were a spoiltonly child, instead of the staid eldest daughter of a family! But Iought to be staid; I can't afford to frivol any longer, for I am goingto take a most important step, and start life on my own account."

  Brother and sister alike looked up with sharp inquiry, and Ruth,understanding, broke into a merry laugh.

  "Oh, not that! Nothing half so interesting! Merely going to earn myliving, and I came to ask your advice as to how I had best set about it.Nothing is decided so far, except that I am to earn enough money tokeep myself, and contribute largely to home expenses. That's the end,but the puzzle is to find out the means."

  "Poor lassie!" said Miss Maclure gently. She had a soft, Scotch burr inher voice, and her plain face was full of an almost motherly kindness asshe looked at the pretty girl across the hearth. She had private meansof her own, and her brother was a prosperous man; but she knew enough ofthe world to understand the nature of the struggle of which Ruth spokeso lightly.

  "It's easier saying than doing, I'm afraid, dearie. There are so manywomen searching for work nowadays, and for many positions it isnecessary to prepare by long and expensive training. We wanted a ladysecretary for one of the societies in which I am interested, and we hadhundreds of applicants who were expert typists and stenographers, andhad all sorts of diplomas to show, but you have nothing of the kind."

  "No, nor a penny to spend on training. I must be taken as I am, or notat all. Don't discourage me, Eleanor, please. Mollie runs the cold tappersistently at home, and I really need appreciation. There must be_something_ that I can do, if I set my wits to work. I am not going tobe a nurse, Dr Maclure, so don't think that I am leading up to arequest that you should get me into a hospital. I don't like sickpeople unless they are my very own, and it would be almost as dull to beshut up in a hospital as to remain at home."

  Miss Maclure looked a trifle shocked at this candid confession, but herbrother laughed, and said approvingly--

  "That's right! I admire your honesty. We have far too many nurses whotake up the work without any real fitness, and I should be sorry to seeyou added to the number. Well, let me see! ... After hospital nursing,the next most popular resort is to turn author and write a novel. Haveyou any leaning in that direction?"

  He looked across at Ruth with a humorous twitching of his clean-shavenlips. Once again she felt conscious that the Maclures looked upon heras a pretty child, to be petted and humoured rather than a serious womanof the world, and once again the knowledge brought with it a feeling ofrest and comfort.

  She crinkled her brows and smiled back at the doctor, answeringfrankly--

  "Oh yes, plenty of leanings! I should love to write, and Mollie and Iare always `imagining' to make life more lively and exciting; but, whenit comes to sitting down with a pen in my hand, my thoughts seem to takewing and fly away, and the words won't come. They are all stiff andformal, and won't express what I want. Mollie gets on better, for shewrites as she talks, so it's natural at least. She wrote quite a longstory once, and read it aloud to me as she went on, but it was neverfinished, and I don't think for a moment that any paper would havelooked at it. The people were all lords and dukes and millionaires, andwe don't know even a knight. I expect it was full of mistakes."

  Dr Maclure smiled and rose from his seat.

  "Well, I have some letters to write, so I will leave you to have yourtalk with Eleanor; but I am starting off again on my rounds in half anhour, and shall be driving past your house. It is a disagreeableevening. Will you let me give you a lift?"

  Ruth consented eagerly. The blue serge coat felt none too warm in thebleak east wind, and it would be a relief to be spared the chilly walk,and be bowled along instead in the doctor's luxurious brougham. Shedrew her chair nearer to the fire, and proceeded to confide various whysand wherefores to the sympathetic Eleanor--sympathetic, but hardlyresponsive this afternoon for some mysterious reason. The while Ruthset forward one idea after another, Miss Maclure sat gazing at her withan intent, questioning gaze, as though too much occupied with her ownthoughts to grasp the meaning of the conversation. Ruth felt chilledand disappointed, for during the last few days the constant thought inthe background of her mind had been, "Eleanor will advise me! Eleanorwill know what to do!"

  Miss Maclure was a busy woman, whose name figured in a dozen committees.She knew everyone, went everywhere, and her word had weight in guilds,societies, and associations. What could be more easy than for her tofind a pleasant and lucrative berth for a pet girl friend, and settleher in it without delay? Ruth had already imagined a touching scenewherein she had been introduced to her future sphere of work, whilethose in authority overpowered Miss Maclure with thanks for helping themto find the ideal person to fill the vacant post. But Eleanor saidnothing, suggested nothing, only sat staring with those grave,questioning eyes!

  It was almost a relief when the half-hour was over, and the doctor gavethe summons for departure. Then Eleanor came back to the present oncemore, and was all that was kind and loving.

  "Have you no wraps with you, dear? Is that all you have on?" she asked,as the girl buttoned her thin coat and pulled the scarf higher round herthroat; and Ruth answered "Yes," in an irresponsive tone, whicheffectually put a stop to further remarks. She might speak of her ownpoverty, but not even Eleanor Maclure herself could be allowed to pity,or offer to supply a want. That was Miss Ruth's idea of proper pride,and she straighten
ed her back, and held her head higher than ever as shecrossed the hall and took her seat in the carriage.

  Such a luxurious brougham it was, with its well-cushioned seats, itselectric reading-lamp attached to the wall, its rack for books andpapers, and cosy fur rug! Ruth tucked the rug securely in position,and, looking up, caught the reflection of her face in the strip ofmirror opposite. The blue serge toque sat so jauntily on her head thatit looked quite smart; the pink tie was undoubtedly becoming. Well, itwas a comfort to be pretty, at least! To have been poor and plain wouldhave been quite too depressing. She smiled back in approving fashion,to feel somewhat disconcerted a moment later as the mirror reflectedDonald Maclure's face beside her own. He was staring at her with thesame intent questioning which she had noticed in Eleanor's eyes, andsurely he looked paler, older, more haggard than usual! She turnedtowards him, warmed into increased friendship by the presentiment thathe was in trouble like herself.

  "It's so good of you to take me home, Dr Maclure! It may seem curiousto you, but it's quite a treat to me to drive about in this comfycarriage. I so seldom travel in anything but shaky omnibuses. I shouldnot object to being a lady doctor, if I could have a brougham like thisof my very own. There! We never thought of that when we werediscussing my possible fields of labour!"

  Dr Maclure bent forward, and glanced out of the window. His horse wastravelling quickly to-night; in another ten minutes Mr Connor's housewould be reached, and his opportunity over. He turned to face hiscompanion, and said quietly--

  "There is another possibility open to you, Ruth, which you have perhapsnot considered. Have you ever thought of it, I wonder? Can you guesswhat I mean?"

  The grey eyes stared into his in frankest bewilderment.

  "No," cried Ruth--"no! What is it? Something nice? Tell me what itis."

  "You have never guessed that I love you; that I have loved you foryears, since you were a girl at school? You have never once guessed itall this time?"

  He read his answer in the blank face and startled eyes, for Ruth was tooutterly taken aback to feel the usual embarrassment. She sat perfectlystill, gazing not at him but at the reflection of his face in the mirroropposite. Dr Maclure! Was she dreaming, or was it really his voicewhich she heard uttering these extraordinary words? Dr Maclure lovedher--had loved her for years! It was too inconceivable to be grasped!He asked if she had not guessed his secret, but Ruth had not thought ofhim at all; he had not entered into her calculations except as"Eleanor's brother"--a nonentity who might be agreeable or the reverse,according as he drove her home on wet evenings, or interrupted a cosy_tete-a-tete_.

  She did not reply to the question in words; but he was answered all thesame, for she heard him sigh, and saw a quiver pass across the thinface.

  "I am too old, Ruth--is that it? You never thought of me as a possiblelover?"

  "Oh no, never once! You always seemed so busy and occupied, and youhave Eleanor to look after you. You have always been very kind to me,but you were kind to Mollie and Trix and Betty as well. I did not feelthat you treated me differently from them. You are so clever; and yousaw yourself, when we talked this afternoon, I can do nothing.--I don'tsee how you can possibly like me."

  "Don't you?" he asked quietly. "But I do, Ruth; I care more than I canexpress. I have not spoken before, for you seemed too young. I shouldnot have spoken to-day if you had not told us of this new move. Youdon't know how hard it is for a girl to go out into the world and earnher living; but I do, and I should like to save you from it, if it canbe done. I could give you a comfortable home, and enough money to makelife easy and pleasant. It would be my best happiness to see you happy.We could travel; you would be able to help Mollie and the rest. If youmarried me, your people would be my people, and I should be as anxiousas yourself to let them share our good fortune; and I would love youvery dearly, Ruth! I seem old to you, perhaps, but my love would bemore proved and certain than if I were a boy of your own age. I am aprosperous man, but I want something more from life than I have had sofar--something that you alone can give roe. You hold my key tohappiness, Ruth!"

  Ruth drew back into the corner of the carriage and turned her face intothe shadow. She wanted to think. What an extraordinary change in theoutlook at life to have happened in a few brief moments! Dr Maclure'swife! Here was an answer indeed to the question which had beenoccupying her thoughts for the last few weeks!

  Suppose--suppose, just for one moment, that she said yes? Suppose thaton getting home she walked into the dining-room and announced herengagement to a prosperous and charming man, who was already a familyfriend and favourite? What fun! What excitement! What pride on thepart of the little mother; what transparent relief to the overtaxedpater! Mollie and Trix would begin at once to discuss bridesmaids'dresses, and there would be a trousseau to buy, and all the bustle andexcitement of a first marriage in a family. And afterwards? A big,handsomely appointed house, pretty clothes, lots of money, the power tohelp those whom she loved...

  It sounded good--very good indeed! Much more attractive than thosenursery governess and companion schemes which she dreaded, despite allher resolutions. It would be delightful to be her own mistress, and dojust as she liked...

  And then a thought occurred. What of Eleanor? Ruth recalled the intentgaze which had mystified her so much during the afternoon, and feltconvinced that Miss Maclure had guessed her brother's secret. What washer feeling in the matter? Was she jealous of a rival in her brother'saffections, or loyally anxious for his happiness, regardless of how herown future might be affected? A spasm of curiosity found voice in asudden question--

  "But there is Eleanor. If you married, what would become of her?"

  "There would be no difficulty about that. When we took up housetogether we made a solemn agreement that if either wished to marry inthe future the other should not hinder in any possible way. Eleanor hasher own income, and many interests in life to keep her happy andoccupied. She would live near us, I hope, but you should be entiremistress of your home, Ruth."

  He evidently thought she had looked upon his sister's presence in thehouse as a hindrance to her happiness, but, in truth, Ruth felt a chillysinking of heart at his reply. The thought of the big house was nothalf so attractive, shorn of the figure of the sympathetic friend. Thelibrary with no Eleanor sitting writing at her desk; the drawing-roomwith no Eleanor in the deep-cushioned chair; the dining-room with noEleanor at the head of the table--how blank it all seemed! Howdreadfully dull to be alone all day, with only the doctor to break themonotony! Only the doctor! The blood rushed in a flood to Ruth'scheeks as she realised the significance of that one word. She turnedimpetuously towards her companion, and gripped his arm with nervouspressure.

  "Don't tempt me!" she cried earnestly--"don't tempt me! There are somany things that I should like, and I keep thinking of them, when Ishould think only of you.--I'd love to be rich, and have a nice house,and play Lady Bountiful at home! I'd love to travel about and see theworld, instead of jogging along in one little rut; and, really andtruly, I dread turning out to work, and am a coward at heart--but,--that's all! I have always liked you very much as a friend, but I can'timagine ever feeling any different. When I was thinking over thingsjust now, I--don't be angry! I don't want to hurt you, only to bequite, quite honest--I thought more of Eleanor than of you! I hardlythought of you at all."

  The doctor's thin face looked very drawn and pained, but he smiled inresponse to her pleading glance.

  "I'm not angry, dear. Why should I be? It is not your fault that youdo not care, and it is best for us both to know the truth. I feared itmight be so. I am too old and staid to attract a bright young girl, butI even now cannot bring myself to regret my love. It has given me thehappiest hours of my life, and I hope you will always let me help you inany way that is possible. I think you owe me that privilege, don't you,Ruth?"

  "Oh, I do--I do! If it is any pleasure to you, I promise faithfully tocome to you whenever I n
eed a friend, and I should like you to help me.That means a great deal, for I am horribly proud. There are very fewpeople from whom I can accept a favour."

  He smiled again, but with an evident effort, and Ruth, peeping at hisaverted profile, felt a pang of real personal suffering at the sight ofhis pain. It seemed dreadful that she should have such power to affectthis strong man; to take the light out of his face and make it old andworn and grey!

  The carriage was nearing home; in a few minutes' time the drive would beover, and she would have no chance of continuing the conversation. Witha sudden swelling of the heart she realised that she could not partwithout another expression of regret.

  "I am so sorry, so dreadfully sorry to have grieved you! But you wouldnot like me to marry you just for what you could give me; you would nothave been satisfied with that, would you, Dr Maclure?"

  His eyes met hers with a flash of determination.

  "No," he cried--unhesitatingly--"never! I want a wife who loves me, orno wife at all! One never knows what lies ahead in this world, and ifdark days come I should like to feel that she cared for me more, ratherthan less. It would be hard for us both if she valued only mypossessions, and they took to themselves wings and fled. And there isyour own future to consider. Love will come to you some day, and youmust be free to welcome him. Don't distress yourself about me, Ruth; Ihave my work for consolation. Before I get home to-night I shall haveseen so much suffering that I shall be ashamed to nurse my own trouble."

  "Yes," said Ruth faintly.

  His words seemed to place her at an immense distance, as if already hehad accepted his burden and put it resolutely out of sight. She feltchilled and humiliated, for in the depths of her heart she knew that ifDr Maclure had been persistent in his request, and had condescended to"tempt" her, to use her own expressive phrase, she would very probablyhave succumbed to the temptation, however much she might have regrettedher decision later on. But Donald would have none of her; he wanted awife who cared for himself, and not for his possessions. Ruth feltalmost as if it were she herself who had been refused. It was not anagreeable sensation to experience after a first proposal.