A Little Country Girl

  CHAPTER X.

  A WORD FITLY SPOKEN.

  ALL Candace's timidity fled at the sight of Georgie's distress. Shehurried across the room, knelt down by the sofa, and took her cousin'shand, which was as cold as a stone, between her own warm ones.

  "What is it, Georgie? Don't cry so, Georgie, dear, please don't! Oh,what is the matter?" she said, in a voice so soft and affectionate andpleading, that it made its way straight to poor miserable Georgie'sheart. She still sobbed; she still hid her face in the pillow; but shelet Cannie hold her hand and stroke and kiss it, and seemed to find alittle soothing in the kind touch and the tender words.

  After a while the sobs grew fainter, and Georgie lay half exhausted,with her eyes shut, only now and then giving Cannie's hand a squeeze.Hers was one of those natures which cannot bear to suffer alone.Whatever was the matter, Georgie instinctively reached out for sympathyto the nearest source from which it could be had. Gertrude, her naturalconfidante, was away; and Candace, her sweet face full of pity andconcern, was close at hand. Her touch felt warm and comforting; hertender voice was irresistible to Georgie's desolate mood. She turned herwet face with a sudden burst of gratitude and trust toward the littlecousin whom she had till now held so cheaply, and who, at that moment,seemed the only friend left within reach.

  "Cannie," she said, "I've a great mind to tell you--" Then she stopped.

  Confidence is like a timid bird, which hops nearer and nearer to thehand that holds out a crumb, but all the while keeps its wings halfpoised for flight, should a gesture alarm it. Candace had theinstinctive wisdom of a loving heart. She did not interrupt Georgiewith a word; only her anxious eyes asked the questions which her tonguedid not utter.

  "I am in such trouble," said Georgie, thawing more and more under theinfluence of Cannie's silence and Cannie's look,--"in such a dreadfulscrape! Oh, what will become of me?" wringing her hands. "You are sogood, Cannie,--so kind. Will you promise not to breathe a word toanybody if I tell you all about it?"

  "Yes," said Candace, "I promise."

  "I know you can keep a secret," continued Georgie, sighing heavily; "younever said a word about that time at Fort Greene, yet I know you musthave wondered what it all meant." A little pause; then she went on:"There really wasn't any harm in it when it began. It was last winter.One day Berry and I had been laughing over some of the 'Personals' inthe 'Herald,' and just for fun we wrote one ourselves and sent it to thepaper. It was an advertisement. We pretended it came from a lady whowanted to make the acquaintance of an eligible gentleman with a view tomatrimony. We made it as ridiculous as we could, and we signed it'Laura,' and said that all the answers could be sent to the Station DPost-office."

  "And did you get any answers?"

  "Oh, quantities! I never imagined that people could be so foolish. Why,there were a hundred and thirty the very first day, and ever so manyafterward. Some of them were sentimental, and some of them wereridiculous, and some were really funny. I think the funny ones came frompeople who suspected that the advertisement was a hoax; but we got agreat deal of amusement out of it, and we never for a moment dreamedthat any one would suspect who put it in. Oh, how I wish we never had;for it brought that horrible man down upon us, and since then we havenever had any peace of our lives."

  "What horrible man?" asked Candace, more and more surprised.

  "You saw him at Fort Greene. I don't know who he is myself, really. Hesays his name is James Alexander, but he tells such frightful lies thatI don't believe it is his real name at all. He is a dreadful creature,and he has treated us so--" Georgie broke down into another fit ofcrying.

  "But I don't understand," said Candace. "How could he treat you badly?How did he come to know you? What right had he to speak to you at all?"

  "Oh, no right!" explained Georgie, quivering with sobs. "It was onlythat he found out about the advertisement, and then he frightened us. Hesuspected something, and hung about the post-office and watched, tillone time when Berry and I went to get the 'Laura' letters. Then hefollowed us home, and found out where we both lived, and wrote to saythat he had become possessed of our secret, and that he was a poor manin need of money, and if we would at once send him twenty-five dollarshe would keep silent about it; but if not, he should feel bound to writeto our friends, and let them know what we had been doing. We were bothscared to death at this threat, and we made haste to send him themoney, hoping that he would keep his word, and that we should never hearof him again. But we might have known better; for the very next week hewrote again, demanding fifty. And so it has gone on ever since. He nevergives us any peace. We have to send him all he asks for, or else hedeclares he will call on papa, and not only tell him about theadvertisement, but all sorts of horrible things which are not true atall. He won't believe that it was only to amuse ourselves that we sentthe notice to the paper, and he hints the most dreadful things, and sayspapa and Mrs. Joy will be sure to believe him! Berry and I have grown soafraid that we would give a million, if we had it, to bribe him to goaway and never let us hear from him again. But even that would be nouse, for he would come back and demand another million," ended poorGeorgie.

  "And he actually comes up to Newport, and follows you about, and makesyou give him money!" said Candace, horror-stricken at this glimpse ofthe hidden suffering endured by these two prosperous, cared-for girls,who were supposed to be without a sorrow in the world.

  "Indeed, he does. He came that time when you saw him, the middle ofAugust; and he wrote Berry a note to say that he must speak to us, andthat if we didn't meet him somewhere, he should appeal to Mrs. Joy. Wehad to consent, of course, and we gave him all the money we had, and wethought he was gone; but just a few days after he appeared again on thePolo Ground, and handed Berry a note, which he pretended she had droppedout of the carriage. But it was really from himself; and he said that hehad lost the money we gave him on a bet which had turned out badly, andhe must have a hundred dollars more. You can't think how hard it hasbeen for us to raise all this money, Cannie. Berry has her own income,but her mother likes to know what she does with it; and mamma chooses mythings for me, so I don't have much of an allowance. We have been atour wits' end sometimes to know how to manage."

  "And how did you?"

  "Berry sold a diamond ring which she doesn't often wear, so her motherhas not missed it, and I put in thirty dollars, which was all I had; andhe went away, for good as we hoped. He promised solemnly not to come toNewport, or ask us for money again this season; and we were so relieved.For a few days I was almost happy," with a miserable little laugh. "Butwhat fools we were to believe him! I can't imagine why we should, for hehas deceived us all through. I don't think he has spoken the truth oncefrom the very beginning. Berry came just now to tell me that he is backalready. She saw him herself this morning in Thames Street. He didn'tsee her, for she was in the close coupe, and he was looking in at a shopwindow; but, of course, he has come for money, and neither of us has anymore. We shall have to refuse, and he will go straight to papa, andthen--oh, what will become of me?" She buried her face again in thepillows.

  Candace was trembling with a mixture of sensations,--pity for hercousin, indignation at this mean persecution of which she was thevictim, and withal a fine touch of scorn over the weakness which was soeasily played upon. With all her country breeding and ignorance of theworld and its ways, there was in our little maiden a large share of thestrong, self-respecting pride of her ancestry. _She_ would never havestooped to buy the silence of a low knave like this Alexander; and herclear truthfulness of soul indicated at once the single, straight,unerring clew which could lead out of this labyrinth of difficulties.

  "Georgie," she said, after a moment's thought, "there is just one thingfor you to do. You must tell Cousin Kate all about this."

  "Oh, Candace, never!" screamed Georgie. "Tell mamma! Have mamma know!I'd rather die at once. You have no idea how she despises concealmentsand deceits; and I have had to plot and contrive, almost to tell lies,all through this wretched time. She would ne
ver get over it. Even if she_said_ she forgave me, I should always read a sort of contempt in hereyes whenever she looked at me. Oh, mamma, mamma! And I love her so!Candace, I couldn't."

  "It is the only way," repeated Candace, firmly.

  "You have promised not to tell!" exclaimed her cousin, starting up fromher recumbent position. "You promised me solemnly! You'll not forgetthat, will you, Cannie? You'll not tell mother yourself?"

  "Certainly not. What use would it be for me to tell her? It would beonly next best to having Alexander do it. But you,--you, Georgie,--thatis a different thing."

  "Even Gertrude said she couldn't advise me to tell mamma," continuedGeorgie.

  "Gertrude! Does Gertrude know about it then?"

  "Yes; I had to tell somebody, I was so miserable. It was only a littlewhile ago that I told her. I kept it to myself for a long time."

  "Gertrude!" repeated Candace, unable to hide her amazement. "And whatdid she say?"

  "Oh, she was horrified, of course. Any one would be; and she threw agreat deal of blame on Berry. I don't think she has ever liked hersince. She always goes out of the room when she comes. She wanted me todo all sorts of impossible things, such as going to the chief of police.But about mamma, she felt just as I did. You see we both think so muchof mamma, Cannie; we care so much about having her approve of us. Youhaven't any mother; so perhaps you can't understand."

  "No," said Candace, "I have no mother. Perhaps it makes a difference.But there is another thing I can't understand, and that is how girls who_have_ a mother--such a mother as yours, Georgie--can be content to keepher love by means of a cheat. If I did have a mother, I should want herto know all about me, and approve of me honestly, not because I washiding things from her. Besides,"--there was a little choke here,--"Ithink mothers can stand a good deal, and still keep on loving theirchildren. I don't believe Cousin Kate would be hard on you, Georgie, ordespise you because you have been foolish."

  "You don't half know mamma," repeated Georgie. "She has such high ideasabout conduct. It would half kill her to know that I had even spoken toa man like this Alexander."

  "Of course she would be sorry," persisted Candace. "Of course she wouldrather that you had never got into this scrape. But she is so justalways, as well as kind. She always sees both sides. She will understandhow it began,--that Berry over-persuaded you--"

  "What makes you say that?" interrupted Georgie. "I never told you thatBerry over-persuaded me."

  "No; but I knew it all the same. It's a matter of course," saidCandace, too deeply in earnest to pick her words, or realize what a veryuncomplimentary thing she was saying, "Berry Joy always makes you dowhatever she likes. Cousin Kate will realize how it was in a minute."

  "Well, never mind that. I want to talk about mamma. Don't you see thatif I did tell her she couldn't do anything unless she told papa? andthat is the very thing I want to prevent. Oh, what was that?" as theclock began to strike. "Six! They will be here in ten minutes. Oh, dear!how can I meet her? My eyes are swelled out of my head. She will be sureto notice." And Georgie hurried to the looking-glass, and began tosmooth the tangled fluffs of hair on her forehead.

  Cannie's heart was hot within her, but she wisely forbore furtherremonstrance. She brought a basin of water and a sponge, and helpedGeorgie to bathe and cool her tear-stained face, and to arrange herdishevelled locks. Then she kissed her softly, and moved across theroom to the window. Georgie stole after her, and stood by her side. Itwas nearly time for the travellers to arrive from the train. A coolsea-wind was stirring. Through the trees a red glow could be seen in thewest, where the sun was nearing the horizon.

  There was a sound of wheels, and the Frewens' village-cart drove rapidlyin and set Marian down on the porch. As it drove away, another carriagemet and passed it at the gate. It was the coupe, and Mrs. Gray andGertrude were inside. With a shriek of joy Marian shot down the gravelwalk to meet them. John stopped his horses, Mrs. Gray jumped out, andMarian sprang into her arms. The lookers-on at the window above couldsee the whole pretty picture,--the lovely sunny-faced mother, the gladchild; they could hear Mrs. Gray's sweet laugh as she bent over andkissed Marian again and again.

  "Oh, Georgie, Georgie," cried Candace, her eyes suddenly brimming overwith tears, "look at that, look at them! Was there ever any one sosweet and loving and dear as Cousin Kate? See how she holds Marian inher arms, how she kisses her! How _can_ you be afraid of her? How canyou doubt one minute that she loves you enough to forgive anything? Oh,if I had such a mother, would I stay away from her, and cheat andconceal, and trust a girl like Berry Joy, and a bad man like thisAlexander, and not trust her?--not go to her first of all for help andadvice? Think how good and kind she is, how glad to helpeverybody,--poor people, servants; think how lovely she has been tome,--and, of course, she loves you a hundred times more! How can youhesitate one minute? Oh, go straight to her, dear, dear Georgie; tellher all about it, your own self. She will know just what to do. She willmake it all right for you. Think how happy you will be not to be afraidof anything any more. Oh, Georgie, do, do!"

  "Why, Candace, I hardly know you," faltered Georgie; and she spoketruly, for Candace in her intense eagerness seemed to grow out of andbeyond herself, and looked taller, older, quite unlike the shy Candaceof every day. Then the passion of her appeal caught hold of Georgie'sweakness. Deep feeling is contagious, and there are moments when cowardsbecome temporarily brave. Candace's rush of words, her mother's tenderlook and attitude as she held Marian close to her, or, it may be, someswift impulse from her good angel, seemed to melt her out of her mood ofresistance. How it happened she could not have told, she never couldtell; but a sudden strength came to her, and the next moment she was outin the hall. Mrs. Gray, slowly coming upstairs, was clasped in a wild,despairing embrace.

  "Oh, mamma! I want you. Oh, mamma! I've something to tell you," criedGeorgie. Her mother, whose smile had changed to a look of paleamazement, could not speak. She suffered herself to be swept away. Thedoor of Georgie's room closed behind them; and Gertrude, who wasfollowing close behind, was left on the landing to confront the equallysurprised Candace.

  "What is it? What is Georgie going to say to mamma?" demanded Gertrude,in a frightened whisper.

  "She is going to tell her about that horrible man who has been makingher so unhappy," replied Candace.

  "Going to tell mamma! oh, how did she ever get courage?"

  "I begged her--I told her it was the only way."

  "You! why, Cannie, how did you dare?" cried Gertrude. "I never wouldhave ventured to do that."

  "So Georgie said," replied Candace, simply; "but I was sure the thing todo was for her to go straight to Cousin Kate."