The New Mistress Part 33

This was unanswerable; and besides, she knew that sooner or later, the police, if in search, would be sure to find him.

No; he must stop and face it out--it would be the most honourable proceeding. But she wanted help--she wanted some one to cling to in this hour of difficulty; and to all intents and purposes she was alone, for it was impossible to ask her mother's aid and guidance at a time like this.

What should she do?

Mr Geringer?

No; his letter showed how her refusal rankled in his breast, and if she appealed to him he might wish to make some bargain with her to act as a payment.

Mr Lambent?

No; she could not ask him. He was most kind, but she shrank from appealing to him. She dared hardly think of him, and dismissed him at once; for, set aside the exposure and the lowering of her position in his eyes, he frightened her. And then there were his sisters, who would be sure to know.

Archibald Grave's father?

No; she dared not appeal to him. And when she began to run over the list of her relatives, there did not seem one likely to take a step to help her in this terrible strait--help her, for everything seemed to fall upon her shoulders.

"What shall I do? Whom shall I ask?" she said half aloud; and, as half prayerfully she asked the question, there rose up before her the round, simple, honest face of Mr William Forth Burge, smiling at her as was his wont and seeming to invite her to ask his help.

"Oh no; it is impossible," she said half aloud, as Mr Chute's words of the previous evening came back to her mind. "I could not ask him. What would he say?"

But all the same, she could not help thinking of his amiability, the interest he had taken in her and hers, and that even if she dared not herself ask him, there was a mediator in the person of Miss Burge, who, gentle, amiable little body that she was, would readily espouse her cause.

"But what are they to me? It would not be right to ask them. I dare not--I cannot do it."

Just then the two children came dancing down to leap up at her and kiss her, making her sorry for their sakes that her face wore so dismal a look. But it did not trouble them. It was, "How long will breakfast be, sis?" and then they were off out to look at their little gardens, to see how much the plants and seeds had progressed during the night.

Hazel went through another phase of troublous thought while the children were in the garden, and the kettle was singing its homely song; and as she thought she stood waiting to make the tea so as to carry up Mrs Thorne's cup, which was always partaken of before that lady attempted to rise in the morning.

Just as the tea was made there was a step on the stairs and, looking very sleepy and red-eyed, Percy came into the kitchen.

"Morning, Hazel," he said rather sheepishly, as he looked at her in a half-penitent curious way; but he made no offer to kiss her, nor she him. "I say, what time does the post come in here?"

"The post Percy?" said Hazel quietly, as she went on preparing Mrs Thorne's tea. "Do you expect a letter?"

"Yes," he said. "I'll go out and meet the postman, and see what the place is like. Letters'll be here soon, I suppose?"

"Not till to-morrow morning," said Hazel, watching his changing countenance.

"Not till to-morrow morning!" he cried wonderingly.

"No; there is only one delivery here a day. The postman has been."

Percy was taken aback, and he stood staring, unable to find words and to meet his sister's stern, angry look.

"Percy," she said at last, "are you trying to be a man?"

"Of course I am," he said quickly. "Every fellow at my time of life tries to be one."

"Would it not have been more manly, then, when I invited your confidence last night, if you had told me frankly the whole truth?"

Percy's jaw dropped and he stood gazing at her with a vacant, pitiful expression.

"Then a letter has come this morning," he said.

"Two letters have come this morning," she replied, "and I know everything. Stop! What are you going to do?"

"Cut," he said sulkily. "It is of no use to stay here."

"Do you think the police would not find you if you went away?"

"Police!" he cried, turning pale.

"Yes. Your employers warned us in the letter that they had not settled yet what they should do since--since--oh, heavens! is it true?--they found out that my brother was a thief."

"No, no--not a thief, Hazy! 'Pon my soul, I only borrowed the money. I meant to pay back every s.h.i.+lling. I made sure that I should win, and I never meant to steal."

"You committed theft of the worst kind, Percy. A common thief breaks in and steals; he has not been trusted with that which he takes. You had been; and you not only broke your trust but stooped to the basest ingrat.i.tude as well."

"Yes, I know, Hazy," he cried hoa.r.s.ely, and with his lips white; "but tell me, does my mother know? Oh, for pity's sake, don't tell poor ma!"

"Do you think it will pain her more than this discovery has pained me?"

"Is that why she isn't down? Has it made her ill? I meant to have been first and got the letters; but I was so dog-tired last night I overslept myself. I say, Hazel, does she know?"

"She does not know yet; but she must know."

"No, no! pray don't tell her! You mustn't--you shan't tell her!" he cried. "It would only be making bad worse."

"And how am I to account for your absence when you are fetched away?"

"I say, Hazel, is it so bad as that?" he cried piteously.

"Yes; I am afraid so. There is no knowing what steps your late employers may take."

"Set of beastly cads!" muttered Percy.

"For objecting to their clerk's dishonesty! Shame on you, if you have any shame left."

"And now you turn against me, Hazy!" cried the lad. "I did think last night that you were sorry for me and meant to help me."

"I am sorry for you,--sorry that you could have disgraced yourself and us to this terrible extent I feel it bitterly that you should have kept back what you did last night; but that cannot be changed now, and--"

"Isn't breakfast ready?" cried Cissy, coming to the door. "We are so hungry."

"Yes, dears, come in," cried Hazel cheerfully. And the little party, after Mrs Thorne had been diligently attended to, sat down to the homely breakfast, Percy making a pretence of being too much troubled to taste anything, but ending by eating with all the heartiness of a growing lad; while it was Hazel who just managed one sc.r.a.p of bread and a cup of tea, as she sat thinking of what proceedings she had better take.