by L. T. Meade
hadparted with the ring. It seemed to me that Cousin Geoffrey was near,and that he was looking at me reproachfully. I almost regretted what Ihad done; if I had known where to find Susan I would have rushed afterher, and asked her for my ring back.
As it was, I had to restrain my impatience as best I could. PerhapsSusan would be unsuccessful; perhaps in a moment or two she would bringme back the ring. She did nothing of the kind. She kept me waiting fora quarter of an hour, then she came back with five pounds in her hand.
"My missis is awfully obliged to you, Miss Rosamund, and--and here'sfive sovereigns, miss. I couldn't get more, I couldn't really."
"And my ring, Susan, my ring?"
"You'll have it back to-morrow, miss."
"But is my precious ring safe? Is it in the house? Where is it?"
"Where is your ring, Miss Rosamund?" Susan stared at me, and spokealmost pettishly. "Didn't you say you wanted to hire the ring out,miss? Well, and haven't I done it? The ring is out--it's seeingcompany to-night, that ruby ring; it's having a fine time; it belongs togrand folk for the night, and it's seeing life, that's what it is. Oh,I wish I was it! I think, Miss Rosamund, that ring is going to have alovely time."
"And you're sure I shall have it back by to-morrow?"
"Why, of course, miss. You come here about twelve o'clock. I shouldn'tbe surprised if Madame wanted to do another hire with it; she seemedmighty taken with the big ruby, and I dare say the young lady who wearsit to-night may want it again. But of course that's as you please,miss."
"Of course, Susan. Well, I am very much obliged to you, and I will callto-morrow at noon." I slipped the five sovereigns into my purse, shookhands with Susan, and left the house. I felt wonderfully independent;the touch of the gold had done this. It was marvellous with what asense of power I now looked around me. I felt at that instant what agulf there was between the rich and the poor. With five shillings Icould be timid; with five pounds I could be wonderfully calm, collected,and brave.
I walked as composedly down the gaslit streets as if I had done so everyevening of my life. I entered a grocer's shop and bought half a poundof tea, very good tea. I also bought sugar, Brand's meat jelly, and apound of paraffin candles. As I was leaving the shop I thought how fondmother was of rusks when she was ill. I turned back and got some. Iwas now quite laden with parcels, and as I knew I must purchase severalmore, and could not possibly carry them all in my hands, the next thingwas to secure a basket. I was not long in discovering a sort of bazaar,where miscellaneous articles of every description were to be had. Ichose a serviceable basket, paid for it, popped my groceries in, andwent out. I soon added to the store a chicken, two pounds of beef forbeef-tea, a loaf of bread, and some fresh butter. Finally I placed onthe top of the basket a bunch of fine hothouse grapes, two or threelemons, some oranges, and, lastly, a great lovely bunch ofchrysanthemums.
Now, I felt that I was ready for Putney.
I retraced my steps to Regent Circus, and after a little delay foundmyself in an omnibus which would finally land me at Victoria.
I need not describe my brief journey to Putney; I had no adventures onthe road. No one spoke rudely to me, or stared at me, or molested me inany fashion. The train was punctual, and my fellow-passengers civil.
When I got out at Putney station I did not lose my way, for Jack'sdirections were explicit, and my head felt wonderfully clear.
It was, however, between nine and ten o'clock at night when I arrived atthe lodging-house where my brother's poor young wife lay ill.
I knocked at the door, and the landlady, who had watery eyes and an uglysodden sort of face, presently answered the summons.
She opened the door about six inches, and stared at me suspiciously fromhead to foot.
"Does Mrs Lindley live here?" I asked.
"No, there's no one of that name in the house." She prepared to shutthe door in my face.
"Stay," I exclaimed, pressing my hand against the panel of the door,"there is a young lady here who is very ill. I am her husband's sister,and I have come with a message from him, and I have brought severalthings that she wants. I must see her at once."
The landlady looked at the heavy basket in my hand. She glanced at myface, which I am sure was resolved in expression. She listened to myvoice, which was firm.
"Oh, you mean Mrs Gray," she exclaimed. "Yes, poor thing, she's as badas bad can be. I suppose you had better come up and see her, if youhave any message from her husband. It's a perfect worry to hear hercalling out for him all the time, and maybe you can quiet her down abit."
The landlady mounted the narrow stairs slowly. They were dirty, asstairs in all such houses are; there were many gaps in the banisters,and many sad rents and signs of wear on the greasy carpets. I couldhave moralised, as I walked up the stairs behind the broad-backedlandlady. I could have stored up materials for an excellent littleessay on the shady side of lodging-house life. But my heart was toofull just then to think of anything but the girl whom I was about tovisit, the girl whom my brother had married without even giving her hisrightful name.
Poor people are often the proudest, and we Lindleys had what is commonlycalled "honest pride." That simply means that we _were_ honest; we hadno double dealings; we paid our way not only with coin of the realm, butwith promises which were kept, with endeavours which terminated inresults. It could not enter into our heads to cheat our brothers; wecould do without luxuries, but we could not part with even ahair's-breadth of honour.
The first scapegrace in a family like ours causes, therefore, thoseanguished blushes, those shrinkings of the soul which are about theworst forms of pain. I felt as if I were being roasted at a slow fireof public condemnation as I followed Mrs Ashton up-stairs. I wasalmost sorry at that moment that my conscience was so tender.
The landlady did not stop until she reached the attic floor; then sheturned and pointed to the door of a room which was slightly open.
"Mrs Gray's in there," she said; "you can go in."
She did not offer to come with me. On the contrary she turned her broadback and descended the stairs with many bumps and bangs. I walkedsoftly into the small low attic which had been thrown open for myentrance.
My steps were light, and the room was almost entirely in shadow, for thefire had gone out, and one solitary candle was already dying in itssocket.
Light as my footfall was, however, it was heard, for a high-pitched,querulous, weak voice said instantly:--
"Is that you, Jack? Is that really you at last?"
"No," I replied to the voice, "I am not Jack, but I am the next bestthing, I am Jack's sister. I have brought you a great many messagesfrom him. Now lie quite still, until I light a candle, and then I willtell you everything."
The figure in the bed gave utterance to a queer kind of astonishedgroan, but no further sound of any kind came from the lips. I fumbledin my basket until I found the pound of candles; I lit one at theexpiring embers in the socket, found two showy candlesticks on themantelpiece, filled both, and lighted them, and then, going over to thebed, bent down to take a good look at my sister.
I saw a small dark face; two big beautiful eyes looked up at me; a weaklittle peevish mouth trembled; the lips were drawn down; I saw thattears, and perhaps hysterics, were close at hand. I touched the girl'sforehead with my hand, it was damp from weakness, but there was nofever.
"Before I tell you any of my story I must make you comfortable, Hetty,"I said.
"Hetty?" she whispered, in a kind of terror. "How _do_ you knowanything about me?"
"Jack has told me, of course; it's all right, I assure you. He isprevented coming to-night, so I am going to be your nurse. Oh, yes, Iwill talk to you presently, but not yet, not until you have had somefood, and I have made you comfortable."
I now observed that the girl's face was ghastly pale. Yes, the feverwas gone, but she was in almost the last extremity of weakness. Irushed again to my basket, took out the tin of Brand's jelly, opened it,and
gave her a spoonful. It acted as a stimulant at once, and I feltthat I might leave her while I ran down-stairs to interview thelandlady.
Oh, the wonders that a purse full of money can effect! With the chinkof that gold I softened Mrs Ashton's obdurate heart. Jack's wifebecame "Poor dear!" and an object of the deepest interest in her eyes.She bundled up-stairs herself, to re-light the fire in the miserableattic. She supplied me with unlimited warm water, clean towels, andclean sheets, and when I asked her if she could roast a fowl, and sendit up hot in about an hour's time, she readily promised to do what Irequired.
In her absence I affected wonders in the attic room. I made it cheerfulwith fire-light and candle-light. I opened the window and let in somepurer
