CHAPTER X.
George stayed at Whittington for a week; he followed his father to thegrave. Mrs. Staunton clung to him with a sort of feverish tenacity;whenever he came into the room, her eyes followed him. A sort ofwistful, contented expression came into them when he sat down besideher. During all the time George was in the house she never broke down.At last, however, the time came when he must leave her.
"I must go back to my work," he said; "but you are coming to Londonsoon, then I'll be with you every evening. You know my father has givenyou to me to take care of. It will be all right when we are in Londontogether."
"Yes, my boy," she replied, "it will be all right then. I don'tcomplain," she added; "I don't attempt to murmur. I shall go to him, buthe cannot return to me; and I have got you, George, and he gave me toyou. I am willing to stay with you just as long as you want me."
It was late that night when George left his mother's room. Effie wasstanding in the passage--the brother and sister looked at each other.Effie had come home the day after Dr. Staunton's death.
"Come out with me for a bit, Effie," said her brother. They went intothe garden, and she linked her hand through his arm.
Dorothy Fraser had now returned to her duties in London; the Stauntonswere to go up to town as soon as ever the cottage could be sold. It hadbelonged to the doctor. George was to live with them when they were intown, and perhaps Effie would be able to follow the great wish of hermind. There was just a possibility that she might be able to be trainedas a hospital nurse. She looked up at George now.
"You have been such a comfort to us," she said. "Dorothy told meeverything; and I know that if you had not come just at the opportunemoment, we should have lost our mother as well as our father. I'll doall in my power to hurry matters, so that we can come to London beforethe winter."
"Yes," said George. He was a finely built young fellow, with a handsomeface. He was not the least like Effie, who was dark and rather small,like her mother. George had the doctor's physique; he had great squareshoulders, his eyes were frank and blue like his father's, but his mouthwanted his father's firmness.
"Effie," he said. "I don't know how I am to bring myself to confide inyou."
"Confide in me?" she said, with a little start. "We always did tell oursecrets to one another, but all this terrible trouble seems to have putchildish things away. Have you really a secret, George, to tell me?"
"I don't know how I can tell it to you," he replied; his lipsquivered--he looked down. Effie clasped his arm affectionately.
"You know I would do anything for you," she said.
"Yes; I know you are the best of girls, and you're awfully pretty, too.I know Fred Lawson will think so when he sees you."
"Who is he?"
"A friend of mine--a right good fellow--he is a medical student at St.Joseph's Hospital. I have often met him, and he has talked to me abouthis own sisters, and one day I showed him your photograph, and he saidwhat a pretty girl you were. Somehow, Effie, I never thought of you aspretty until Fred said so. I suppose fellows don't think how theirsisters look, although they love them very dearly; but when Fred saidit, it opened my eyes. Dear, dear, why am I talking like this, when timeis so precious, and I--Effie, when I came down that day to see myfather, I was in trouble--great trouble; the shock of seeing him seemedto banish it from my mind, but it cannot be banished--it cannot bebanished, Effie, and I have no one to confide in now but you."
"You must tell me of course," said Effie; she felt herself turning pale.She could not imagine what George's trouble was. The night was dusk; sheraised her eyes to her brother's face--he avoided meeting them. He had astick in his hand, and he began to poke holes in the gravel.
"How much money have we got to live on?" he asked abruptly.
"How much money have we to live on?" repeated Effie. "I believe, whenall is collected, that there will be something like a hundred a year formother and Agnes and Katie and the two little children. Of course I amgoing to support myself _somehow_, and you are naturally off our hands."
"It's awful," said George; "it's awful to be so starvingly poor as that.Why, I get a hundred a year now; fancy five people living on a sum onwhich I never can make both ends meet!"
"What is the matter with you, George? How queerly you speak! You knew weshould be awfully poor when father died. You are going to pay for yourboard, are you not, when you come to us, and that will be a great help."
"Yes, of course; I vow and declare that I'll give mother at least halfof what I earn."
"Well, that will be fifty pounds--a great help. My idea for myselfis--but----" Effie stopped abruptly. She saw that George was making animpatient movement. "I'll tell you another time," she said in a gentlevoice. "You have something now to tell me, have you not?"
"I have--God knows I have. I want to get two hundred and fifty poundssomewhere."
"Two hundred and fifty pounds!" exclaimed Effie. George might just aswell have asked her for the moon.
"I don't understand," she said, after a pause.
"No, and I never want you to, Effie," replied the young man. "I can'ttell you what I want the money for, but it's a matter of life and death.I thought I had made up my mind"--a husky sound came into his throat--"Imade up my mind to tell everything to my father when I came down thatnight--I could have told him. It was not a sort of thing to talk to youabout, but I thought I could tell him; he died, and he gave me mother.He left mother with me. You know perfectly well, Effie, that ourmother's life hangs on a thread. You know she must not have a shock,and yet--Effie, Effie, if I don't get that L250, she will have such ashock, such a terrible shock, that it will send her to her grave!"
"I must think," said Effie. "I cannot answer you in a moment."
"Is there no earthly way you can help me? I must be helped," said Georgein a frantic voice. "I have got six weeks longer--I must get that L250in six weeks, or--no, I can't tell you."
"Yes, you must try--I won't help you unless you try."
"Well, then--here goes. If I don't get it, I shall have to goto--_prison_." George's voice sank to a hoarse whisper.
Effie could not suppress a cry.