The Fortunes of the Farrells

by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

  LEAVING THE COURT.

  The news of the girls' sudden flight spread to the vicarage, and broughtMrs Thornton rushing up to the Court, hot and panting, and almostincoherent with curiosity and dismay. When she heard of the troublewhich was the cause of their departure, her best side came out, and shehelped the girls in both word and deed through the last difficult hours.It was a comfort to find someone who agreed with their decision, andwas convinced that they were acting aright in returning home, even indefiance of Uncle Bernard's wishes.

  "The maid cries, and Bates looks as if he would like to murder us, MrDruce keeps out of the way and says nothing, and Jack Melland, who is sokeen on taking his own way, has half a dozen compromises to suggest.Actually he offered to go to Liverpool himself and find out if we couldbe of any use if we returned! It was sweet of him, but we must be ofuse. There is no option in the matter, and it is not reasonable toexpect mother to discuss private affairs with a stranger."

  "Of course not; but I love him for having suggested it. Of course, noone wants you to go, dear Ruth. It is a terrible collapse to all ourbright schemes, but with such trouble at home you have no choice, andthere is nothing gained by staying on for a few odd days. Better hurryback and bend all your energies to see what can be done to retrievematters, and look forward to the day when you will return for good."

  Ruth shook her head hopelessly, and for once Mollie followed herexample.

  "Ah, that will never be! There is no more hope. We are leaving againstUncle Bernard's wishes, and at the very worst possible time, for he isangry and upset because there is no way of finding out who opened thedesk and read the draft of the will. We are all indignant at beingsuspected; yet it seems strange that an outsider should be sointerested. It is terribly unfortunate, especially for Uncle Bernard,for he can't help feeling his confidence shaken; and yet, so far as wecan see, nothing will ever be found out."

  "Yes, it will all be explained some day," said Mrs Thornton solemnly."Don't ask me how, for I can't tell. I only know that evil deeds arethe most difficult things in the world to hide, and that in the mostwonderful and unexpected ways they are discovered long after hope ofdetection has been abandoned. It will be so in this case also. Whoeveris mean and wicked enough to allow you, dear children, to bear an unjustsuspicion in addition to your own trouble, will be put to the shame hedeserves. As for your coming back again, I will not give up hope if youdo. I can't afford to lose all my castles in the air. It is decidedthat one of you is to be Lady of the Manor, and put our societies out ofdebt, and pay for a parish nurse, and take my dear girls about when theycome home, and make life a fairy tale for us all. You have raised myexpectations, and I intend to go on expecting! Seriously, dears,whatever Mr Farrell may say to you just now, in the first heat ofdisappointment, I cannot believe he will really think less of you forgiving up your own pleasure to hurry back to your mother. Mr Mellandhas only himself to thank if his name is struck off the list; but youwere willing and anxious to stay, and are the victims of circumstances.If I were in the squire's place I should think all the more highly ofyou for your unselfish devotion, and I believe he will, though he willnever confess as much in words. But time will show! Meantime, my poordears, we will think of you every day, and pray for you that you may beshown what to do, and have strength to do it. I have had my own shareof money troubles, and would never try to belittle them in my own caseor in the case of others. They are very hard and sordid, and far-reaching. There was a time in my life when money seemed in thebackground of every thought, and I could not get away from it; but Ihave learnt to trust instead of worrying, and that's the great lesson oflife. It isn't mastered in a day; it took me years to learn, and manybitter experiences, which I hope you may be spared; but try, dears, todo your best, and leave the rest with God! Then comes the `quiet mind'which will keep you calm and restful through all outward troubles."

  The two young, wistful faces gazed into hers, and her eyes filled withtears of pity.

  "Now tell me honestly--shall I help you best by staying, or by goingaway at once? I have arranged to do whichever suits you best. If youneed any help."

  "Oh, thank you! The best help of all would be to stay and drive down tothe station with us. The packing is all done--in a way! But I expectthat in our haste we have left lots of things behind, for we workedtogether, and in such a hurry and confusion that we hardly knew what wewere about. Poor Elsie has packed our new garments in the new trunks,and watered them with tears. I expect it will be months before they areopened. We shall have no use for such fineries now."

  "You can never tell what may happen, but if you don't, there is no causeto grieve. They have served their day, and have given you pleasure.Never mind if you have left some oddments behind; Elsie can send themon. I never have a visitor at the vicarage that I have not to expend mysubstance posting toothbrushes or sponge-bags or stray garments aftertheir departure."

  Truth to tell, Mrs Thornton was much relieved at being allowed toaccompany the girls to the station.

  The Vicar's wife possessed even more than her share of femininecuriosity, and was longing to discover in what fashion Victor Druce saidgood-bye to Ruth.

  He was already waiting in the dining-room when she went down with thegirls a few minutes later to partake of some light refreshment beforestarting on their long journey, and nothing could have been moreunobtrusively sympathetic or attentive than the manner in which hewaited upon them, anticipating every want, and ministering to it witheager hands. The room itself was so spacious that unconsciously thelittle party split into groups; and Mrs Thornton found herself _tete-a-tete_ with Jack Melland, obviously in the worst of humours.

  "Can you do nothing? Is there nothing you can say to knock a littlecommon-sense into those girls' heads? It's the maddest trick, rushingoff like this in defiance of the old man's wishes. What can they do athome--a couple of children like that? They are better out of the way.At any rate, one of them might have stayed--Mollie, for instance--andkept things going here till she saw how things worked out. They have noright to rush off together at a moment's notice!" he cried irritably;whereat Mrs Thornton smiled involuntarily.

  "Isn't it rather a case of people in glass houses, Mr Melland? Youhave set a bad example without half the excuse of these dear girls. Itseems to me their plain duty to return to their parents when they are introuble, so I have not attempted to dissuade them in any way."

  "But--" Jack made a slight but eloquent gesture of the head in Victor'sdirection. "It's such a walk over for somebody else! I can't bear thethought of it. This place ought to belong to one of those girls--it istheirs by rights. It maddens me to see them throwing away their chance,for I'm afraid Mr Farrell will never forgive them for going against hiswishes."

  "Don't be too sure!" returned Mrs Thornton, nodding her head sagely."Mr Farrell is not half so obstinate as he pretends, and howeverannoyed he may be to-day he can't help softening when he remembers thatthey have put all their own pleasures and self-interests on one side toreturn to work and worry for their mother's sake. If he wanted a testof character, surely nothing could be better than this! I don't thinkit will be by any means a `walk over' for Mr Druce. My firm belief is,that Ruth and Mollie have as good or even a better chance than they hadbefore."

  "I say," cried Jack cordially, "you _are_ a brick!" He turned towardsher with a bright, boyish smile, which took years off his age. "Youdon't know how you have cheered me by saying that! I hated to think ofthem as being out of the running; but you will rub it in, won't you?Don't let Druce have it all his own way! Impress upon the old fellowwhat you said just now--unselfishness and hard work, and all that sortof thing. You will know how to do it, so as to make him see that heought to admire the girls more for going than staying."

  Mrs Thornton smiled indulgently.

  "I can try, at least. I'm only sorry that I can't do the same for you.You have not the excuse of home troubles, and I'm afraid Mr Farrel
l--"

  "Oh, never mind me; I don't count! I have been out of the running fromthe first, and it is only through an accident that I have stayed solong. I don't want anything from Mr Farrell but good-feeling and afair judgment. It cut me up to say good-bye when I saw how feeble helooked. I don't want you to plead my cause, because I relinquished myclaim long ago; but if you get a chance, you might just let him knowthat I was genuinely sorry to leave him for his own sake."

  Jack's manly, straightforward speech was just what Mrs Thorntonexpected from him, and she gladly consented to convey his message to MrFarrell.

  "I will, with pleasure," she said, "and I shall have the chance beforemany days are over. Wonders will never cease! When I said just nowthat the squire was not so hard as he pretended, I spoke out of a fullheart. What do you think of his suggesting--actually suggesting to myhusband that the vicarage might need renovations, and asking him to sendme up to give him my ideas! I nearly fainted when my husband told me.Now, do you think he thought of it himself, or did one of you kindcreatures suggest it to him?"

  "I didn't, I know. It would have been as much as my life was worth; butI suspect Miss Mollie may have had something to do with it. She spokepretty strongly on the subject to me, and she has the courage of herconvictions."

  "Oh, that Mollie!" murmured Mrs Thornton under her breath. "I havenever met her equal. The dearest, the simplest, the most affectionateof girls!" Her eyes moistened suddenly, and Jack's face softened insympathy as he looked across the room to where Mollie stood by hersister's side. She met the two glances bent upon her, and walkedforward in response, leaving Ruth and Victor by themselves.

  Poor Ruth! Her heart beat fast with agitation and a last desperate hopeborn of Victor's soft tones and regretful eyes. For the moment itseemed that the last few days must have been a nightmare, and that hereally did "care"; in which case she was prepared to forgiveeverything--nay, more, to believe that there was nothing to forgive.

  If, in this moment of trouble and humiliation, he would place himself byher side, nothing that she could do in the future would be enough toprove her gratitude and devotion. But, alas! even as Mollie turnedaway, Victor's manner altered, and he became nervous and ill at ease.The long, eloquent glances which had been safe enough in the presence ofa third person could not be risked in a _tete-a-tete_, and Ruth's hopesdied a final death. She sat trying to eat her sandwiches, and feelingas if every bite would choke her, while Victor feebly struggled withcommonplaces.

  The sound of carriage-wheels could be heard drawing near to the door;the last, the very last moment had arrived! Ruth raised her beautiful,sad face and gazed steadily at Victor, and he stopped short in themiddle of a sentence, and turned guiltily aside. He could not meet hereyes.

  After that all was bustle and confusion--servants crowding to say good-bye, villagers bobbing farewell curtseys at their doors, elaborateregrets and hopes for a speedy return from acquaintances at the littlestation, tears from Mrs Thornton, and a last glimpse of Victor's tallfigure standing motionless on the platform; then they were off, and Jacktactfully busied himself behind his newspaper until the first painfulmoments were past.

  When he ventured to lower the screen, both girls were perfectly composedand dry-eyed, gazing out of their respective windows. His eyes turnedfrom Ruth to dwell upon Mollie at the further end of the carriage. Thefashionable young woman had disappeared, and he saw again the simplegirl in shabby serge coat and close-fitting hat with whom he hadtravelled weeks before, yet there was a difference which his fastidiouseyes were quick to note, a dainty precision in the way the clothes wereworn, a perfection of detail, a neatness of coiffure.

  Mollie was too clever and adaptive to have missed the lessons of thelast few weeks, and the change of expression was even more marked. Theaudacious school-girl had disappeared, and in her place sat a woman,with a grave, set face, and eyes that stared into space, seeing thingsthat were far away.

  Jack's heart contracted with a stab of pain. He dropped his paper, andwith one long step crossed the carriage and seated himself by her side.Ruth turned in her seat to stare more persistently out of her window,and the clattering of the train made it impossible to overhear aconversation.

  "Mollie!" said Jack softly.

  She turned her head and looked at him, neither startled nor smiling, butwith a patient sadness, the sight of which brought with it yet anotherstab.

  "For Heaven's sake, Mollie, don't look like that! Things will rightthemselves again, or you may find that they are not so bad as youexpect. In any case, there's a pleasure in helping to pull themstraight. It may be a tug just at first, but that only means moresatisfaction in the end. Don't look so sad! I can't bear to leave youlooking like that."

  Mollie gave a flickering smile. She had not been thinking of businesstroubles, but naturally Jack could not guess that.

  "Once on a time--do you remember?--you wished that I could be serious.You should not complain because your wish is fulfilled," she saidslowly; and Jack put up a protesting hand.

  "Don't! don't! I was a fool! I didn't know what I was saying. Youwere made to be happy; you should always be happy if I could arrange itfor you."

  Mollie smiled again, but with the same obvious effort.

  "I hope you will be happy," she said; "I hope some day we may hear goodnews from you. I don't mean about money; you can guess what I mean."

  "Yes," said Jack gravely; and there was silence for another fiveminutes, while the train approached nearer and nearer to the junction atwhich he was to alight, to catch the express for town.

  "I hope I shall hear good news of you, too," he said at last. "You willbe busy at first, and there may not be much to tell, but later on--in afew weeks' time, when you see how things are going--will you let meknow? I shall be so interested to hear; and at any time if I can doanything, if you need anything done in town, or if I could help bycoming North, you would be doing me a good turn by letting me know. Imean it, Mollie; it is not a polite form of speech."

  "I know; thank you; I will promise," said Mollie, with, for the firsttime, a little break in her composure. Her lip trembled in a pathetic,childlike fashion, and, as if afraid of herself, she bent forward andaddressed a pointed question to Ruth.

  Ten minutes later the junction was reached, and Jack stood outside thecarriage saying his last farewells. Ruth talked persistently in a high,cheerful voice, and Jack bit his moustache and cast furtive glances atMollie's white face. She smiled at him bravely as the train steamedaway, and waved her hand, calling out, "Good luck! good luck!" Thenthey turned, the two poor girls, and clasped each other tightly.

  "Oh, Lucille, my poor Lucille!"

  "Berengaria, Berengaria, how horribly it hurts!"