"Oh, why?" asked Maurice; "you have been away all the whole day, Cecile; and Toby and me had no one to talk to, and now when I had such a lot to tell you, you say 'Hush' Why do you say 'Hush' Cecile?"
"Oh, Maurice! don't talk, darling, 'tis because Lord Jesus the guide is in the room, and I think He must be asleep, for I have prayed a lot to Him, and He has not answered. Don't let's disturb Him, Maurice; a guide must be so tired when he drops asleep."
"Where is He?" asked Maurice; "may I light a candle and look for Him?"
"No, no, you mustn't; He only comes to people in the dark, so Jane says. You lie down and shut your eyes."
"If you don't want your cake, may I eat it then?"
"Yes, you may eat it. And, Toby, come into my arms, dear dog."
Maurice was soon in that pleasant land of a little child's dreams, and Toby, full of most earnest sympathy, was petting and soothing4 Cecile in dog fashion.
Meanwhile, Jane Parsons downstairs was not idle.
Cecile's story, told after Cecile's fashion, had fired her honest heart with such sympathy and indignation that she was ready both to dare and suffer in her cause.
Jane Parsons had been brought up at Warren's Grove5 from the time she was a little child. Her mother had been cook before her, and when her mother got too old, Jane, as a matter of course, stepped into her shoes. Active, honest, quiet, and sober, she was a valuable servant. She was essentially6 a good girl, guided by principle and religion in all she did.
Jane had never known any other home but Warren's Grove, and long as Lydia Purcell had been there, Jane was there as long.
Now she was prepared—prepared, if necessary—to give up her home. She meant, as I said, to run a risk, for it never even occurred to her not to help Cecile in her need. Let Lydia Purcell quietly pocket that money—that money that had been saved and hoarded7 for a purpose, and for such a purpose! Let Lydia spend the money that had, as Jane expressed it, a vow8 over it! Not if her sharp wits could prevent it.
She thought over her plan as she bustled9 about and prepared the supper. Very glum10 she looked as she stepped quickly here and there, so much so that the dairymaid and the errand-boy chaffed her for her dull demeanor11.
Jane, however, hasty enough on most occasions, was too busy now with her own thoughts either to heed12 or answer them.
Well she knew Lydia Purcell, equally well she knew that to tell Cecile's tale would be useless. Lydia cared for neither kith nor kin13, and she loved money beyond even her own soul.
But Jane, a clever child once, a clever woman now, had not been unobservant of some things in Lydia's past, some things that Lydia supposed to be buried in the grave of her own heart. A kind-hearted girl, Jane had never used this knowledge. But now knowledge was power. She would use it in Cecile's behalf.
Ever since the finding of the purse, Lydia had been alone.
In real or pretended indignation, she had left Cecile to get out of her faint as best she could. For six or seven hours she had now been literally14 without a soul to speak to. She was not, therefore, indisposed to chat with Jane—who was a favorite with her—when that handmaid brought in a carefully prepared little supper, and laid it by her side.
"That's a very shocking occurrence, Jane," she began.
"Eh?" said Jane.
"Why, that about the purse. Who would have thought of a young child being so depraved? Of course the story is quite clear. Cecile poking15 about, as children will, found the purse; but, unlike a child, hid it, and meant to keep it. Well, to think that all this time I have been harboring, and sheltering, and feeding, and all without a sixpence to repay myself, a young thief! But wait till I tell Mr. Preston. See how long he'll keep those children out of the workhouse after this! Oh! no wonder the hardened little thing was in a state of mind when I went to search the attics17!"
"Heaven give me patience!" muttered Jane to herself. Aloud she said, "And who, do you think, the money belongs to, ma'am?"
"I make no doubt whose it is, Jane," said Lydia Purcell quietly and steadily18. "It is my own. This is my purse. It is the one poor old Mrs. Bell lost so many years ago. You were a child at the time, but there was some fuss made about it. I am short of money now, sadly short! and I count it a providence19 that this, small as it is, should have turned up."
"You mean to keep it then?" said Jane.
"Why, yes, I certainly do. You don't suppose I will hand it over to that little thief of a French girl? Besides, it is my own. Is it likely I should not know my own purse?"
"Is there much money in it?" asked Jane as quietly as before.
"No, nothing to make a fuss about. Only a few sovereigns and some silver. Nothing much, but still of value to a hard-working woman."
"After that lie, I'll not spare her," muttered Jane to herself. Aloud she said, "I was only a child of ten years or so, but I remember the last time poor Mistress Bell was in that attic16."
"Indeed. And when was that?" asked Lydia.
"I suppose it was then as she dropped the purse, and it got swept away in all the confusion that followed," continued Jane, now placing herself in front of Lydia, and gazing at her.
"When was Mrs. Bell last in the attics?" she said.
"I was with her," continued Jane. "I used to play a good bit with Missie Mercy in those days, you remember, ma'am? Mrs. Bell was poking about, but I was anxious for Mercy to come home to go on with our play, and I went to the window. I looked out. There was a fine view from that 'ere attic window. I looked out, and I saw—"
"What?" asked Lydia Purcell. She had laid down her knife and fork now, and her face had grown a trifle pale.
"Oh! nothing much. I saw you, ma'am, and Missie Mercy going into that poor mason's cottage, him as died of the malignant21 fever. You was there a good half hour or so. It was a day or two later as poor Missie sickened."
"I did not think it was fever," said Lydia. "Believe me, believe me, Jane, I did not know it certainly until we were leaving the cottage. Oh! my poor lamb, my poor innocent, innocent murdered lamb!"
Lydia covered her face with her hands; she was trembling. Even her strong, hard-worked hands were white from the storm of feeling within.
"You knew of this, you knew this of me all these years, and you never told. You never told even me until to-night," said Lydia presently, raising a haggard face.
"I knew it, and I never told even you until to-night," repeated Jane.
"Why do you tell me to-night?"
"May I take away the supper, ma'am, or shall you want any more?"
"No, no! take it away, take it away! You don't know what I have suffered, girl; to be the cause, through my own carelessness, of the death of the one creature I loved. And—and—yes, I will tell the truth—I had heard rumors22; yes, I had heard rumors, but I would not heed them. I was fearless of illness myself, and I wanted a new gown fitted. Oh! my lamb, my pretty, pretty lamb!"
"Well, ma'am, nobody ever suspected it was you, and 'tis many years ago now. You don't fret23. Good-night, ma'am!"
"Ain't I a hard-hearted wretch25 to see her like that and not try to comfort? Well, I wonder if Jesus was there would He try a bit of comforting? But I'm out of all patience. Such feeling for a child as is dead and don't need it, and never a bit for a poor little living child, who is, by the same token, as like that poor Mercy as two peas is like each other."
Jane felt low-spirited for a minute or two, but by the time she returned to the empty kitchen she began to cheer up.
"I did it well. I think I'll get the purse back," she said to herself.
She sat down, put out the light, and prepared to wait patiently.
For an hour there was absolute stillness, then there was a slight stir in the little parlor26. A moment later Lydia Purcell, candle in hand, came out, on her way to her bedroom. Jane slipped off her shoes, glided27 after her just far enough to see that she held a candle in one hand and a brandy bottle in the other.
"God forgive me for driving her to it, but I had to get the purse," muttered Jane to herself. "I'm safe to get the purse now."
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1
ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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2
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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3
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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4
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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5
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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6
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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7
hoarded
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| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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9
bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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10
glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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11
demeanor
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| n.行为；风度 | |
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12
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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13
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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14
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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15
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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16
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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17
attics
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| n. 阁楼 | |
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18
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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19
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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20
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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21
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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22
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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23
fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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24
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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25
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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26
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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27
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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