"It is not the pater"s fault in any one way. For the last two years he has been doing a good deal of business for a man who appeared to be in very good circ.u.mstances. At first he paid up his accounts most regularly, but lately they have sometimes been allowed to run on from month to month. I don"t understand business, but it seems that this is often allowed, and as he had been such a good client, and had met his payments regularly before, the pater felt safe in trusting him, and paid out all his own little capital to finance the business of the last few months, which was unusually large.
"He expected to make such a handsome commission as would set us on our feet again; but it was all a deliberate fraud. Other poor men have been taken in in the same way, and that scoundrel has disappeared, leaving us to bear the brunt. I hope I may be able to forgive him some day; just now, when I see the pater"s broken heart and think of you, and all those children, it"s too difficult.
"Everything that we have or can raise in any way will not pay what we owe, and the pater cannot carry on his business without some capital.
The future is very dark; but G.o.d has helped me through many dark days, and He will help us still. Trix is splendid! She went of her own accord to the headmistress and offered to teach one of the junior cla.s.ses in exchange for Betty"s education, and a few finishing cla.s.ses for herself. Miss Bean came to see me, and it is all arranged, for she says Trix has a genius for managing children, and will be a valuable help. She is a good woman, and is glad of the opportunity of helping us, so that difficulty is overcome; but there are oh, so many others to be faced!
"What is to be done about the house--the boys--yourselves? Pater and I have talked until we are too tired and puzzled to talk any more, but, so far, no light has dawned.
"Write to the pater as well as to me, for he has been good to you, and will value your sympathy. Oh, my darlings, it is hard that this should have happened just now to spoil your happy visit! My heart aches for your trouble, for these things are so hard when one is young. I hope, I trust, I pray that the future may be so bright for you as to make up for all the anxieties you have had to bear. Tell Uncle Bernard our trouble; you and he must decide what you had better do.
"I long for your help and comfort, but leave the decision entirely in your hands. Every one is good and sympathetic, and the pater has had most kind letters from his friends in town. We have this great comfort that his good name is untarnished, and that there is no shadow of disgrace in our misfortune. G.o.d bless you, my darlings! If we are rich in nothing else, we are rich in our love for one another.--Your devoted Mother."
The girls looked at each other in a long, breathless silence. Ruth laid her hand across her heart with a little gasp of pain.
"Oh, mother! Poor little mother! And we are away, we who should be her best comforters! There is only one thing to do,--we must go home at once!"
"Yes," a.s.sented Mollie firmly, "we must go home to-morrow."
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
A FATEFUL DECISION.
It was all decided. The interview with Uncle Bernard was over, the last farewells spoken, and the boxes packed in readiness to go to the station. In less than an hour the Court and its inhabitants would be a thing of the past.
Out of consideration for Mr Farrell"s health, the girls had decided not to tell him of their bad news until the morning.
"He has had enough excitement for one day," Mollie said; "let him be quiet to-night. To-morrow morning we will send up mother"s letter for him to read, and ask to see him as soon as possible after breakfast.
That will give him time to think over the situation and decide what to do. He must guess that we will want to return home, but if he wishes to keep us he can easily do so. Oh, to think that with a few strokes of the pen he could make us all happy again! I don"t know how much money the pater needs, but it would probably be the tiniest sum out of Uncle Bernard"s great fortune. Suppose he offered to send a cheque--suppose he gave us a cheque to send, and all was peace and joy again! He could--he might--oh, surely he _will_! What is the use of being rich if one can"t help people in trouble?"
But Ruth sighed and shook her head.
"Rich people have not much patience with failures, and the poor old pater has not the gift of success. I am afraid Uncle Bernard will be more inclined to blame than to help." And as events proved she was right.
Mr Farrell sent word that he would be at liberty at ten o"clock in the sitting-room adjoining his bedroom, and the first few minutes of the interview proved that his att.i.tude towards the family trouble was one of scornful impatience rather than sympathy. He was apparently quite unprepared for the girls, determination, and would not at first believe in its sincerity.
"You are surely joking," he said scathingly. "If your parents are in such straits as you describe, how do you propose to help them by giving them two more people to keep and feed? It appears to me that your room would be more valuable than your company."
Ruth flushed painfully.
"We hope to be able to help, not to hinder. When a child like Trix has already found work, we ought not to lag behind. It would be impossible to go on living in the lap of luxury, wearing fine clothes, eating fine meals, being waited upon hand and foot, while our own people are in actual need."
"Unless--" interrupted Mollie, and then stopped short, while Mr Farrell turned sharply towards her.
"Unless what? Finish your sentence, if you please."
"Unless you will help them for us!" gasped Mollie, crimson, but daring.
"It would be so easy for you to lend the pater what he needs, and he would promise to pay you back--we would all promise! We would work night and day until it was made up."
Mr Farrell smiled sardonically.
"At last! I knew it must come. It would not be Mollie if she had any scruples about asking for what she wanted. No, my dear, I never lend.
It is against my principles to throw good money after bad. At the risk of appearing a monster of cruelty, I must refuse to interfere in your stepfather"s affairs. There are still six weeks of your visit here to run, and I shall be pleased to relieve him of your support for that time; otherwise--"
"We are much obliged, but we have decided to go home. You wished to be able to judge our characters, and you have had enough time to do so, with very unsatisfactory results, if we are to judge from yesterday"s conversation!" cried Ruth, with a sudden burst of indignation. "If you can believe us capable of prying into your desk, you will surely not be sorry to get rid of us altogether!"
The old man looked at her long and thoughtfully.
"Yes," he said quietly, "it"s a pity--a very great pity--that the two things should have happened together. It is as unsatisfactory to me as to you that you should leave before the culprit has been discovered.
But it is useless now to argue the point if your minds are already made up. Taking everything into consideration--the peculiar circ.u.mstances with regard to my will, your original acceptance of my invitation--do I still understand that you wish to leave me to-day?"
"It is our duty to go home. Yes, we have quite decided," said Ruth.
The old man"s eyes turned towards the younger girl.
"And you, Mollie?"
"Yes, uncle; I"m sorry, but we can"t leave mother alone just now."
Mr Farrell sat silent, his eyebrows lowered, his head hanging forward on his chest, so that it was difficult to see the expression of his face; but the pose of the figure suggested weariness and disappointment.
Suddenly he stretched out his hand and touched an electric bell. A servant appeared almost immediately, and was asked a hasty question--
"Is Mr Druce still in the house?"
"I believe so, sir. He was in the morning-room a few minutes ago."
"Go down and tell him that I should be obliged if he would come up here at once."
The girls exchanged puzzled glances as the servant departed on his errand; but they did not dare to speak, and, as Mr Farrell relapsed into his former downcast att.i.tude, the silence was broken only by the sound of Victor"s approaching footsteps. He entered the room confident and smiling, but drew up with a start of surprise at seeing the two girls. He was evidently disappointed at their presence, and vaguely uneasy; but after the first involuntary movement his features quickly resumed their mask-like calm.
"You sent for me, sir. Is there anything I can do?"
Mr Farrell raised his head and looked at him thoughtfully. It was seldom indeed that he allowed himself to show any sign of interest in his young companions, so that this steady scrutiny was the more remarkable. Even Victor"s composure suffered beneath it, for a tinge of colour crept into his pale cheeks, and he moved uneasily to and fro.
"What is it, sir?" he repeated. "I hope nothing fresh has happened to distress you."
"Thank you, Druce. My plans have been still further upset this morning, as, owing to news received from home, my nieces have decided to leave the Court at once. That means that three out of the four whom I selected for my experiment have, of their own accord, refused to carry out the conditions. Under these circ.u.mstances, I think it is only right to offer to release you from your promise, if you prefer to return home at the same time. Everything will be changed, and you may not care to stay on with only myself as a companion."
Victor"s eyelids dropped, and a quiver of emotion pa.s.sed over his face.
Ruth saw it, and, with a sinking heart, realised that it resembled exultation rather than grief. He was silent for a moment, but when he spoke nothing could well have been more dignified and natural than words and manner--
"If it will inconvenience you in any way to entertain me alone, I am, of course, perfectly ready to leave; but if you give me the choice--if it is left to me to decide, sir--I should prefer to keep my promise, and stay for the remainder of the time. I might perhaps be of some help to you when you are alone."
The strained expression on Mr Farrell"s face gave place to one of unmistakable satisfaction.
"That is good!" he replied heartily. "I am glad to find that you at least have some appreciation of the nature of a bargain. It will be lonely for you, but I am the more obliged for your decision. I won"t keep you any longer just now, as we shall have other opportunities of conversation, and I have my adieux to make."