"Yes, sir. I heard she was there to-day, though we thought we had laid her under the trees in our churchyard. Is that the business you have come about?" asked Brown.
"Yes. I have come to know where the true Fanny Brown is buried, for it is Mary Brown that is still living in the hospital."
Mrs. Brown heard the words, and her heart almost died within her.
"My child's name is Fanny, not Mary," she said, going to the door.
"Will you come inside, sir, and let us see what this other mistake may mean?" said Brown.
The man stepped in. "My daughter's name was Frances Florence Brown, and she was about sixteen. I had sent her to boarding-school since her mother's death, two years ago. The fever, it seems, broke out in the school, and they were obliged to send my poor girl away before I could have any choice in the matter. She was called Fanny by her schoolfellows, and that was how the name of 'Fanny' came to be entered in the books of the hospital. I have written again and again to the authorities, and was told each time that my child was seriously ill, until yesterday I insisted upon seeing her for myself; and then, judge what my feelings were to see that it was altogether another Fanny Brown, and not my daughter at all. The Nurse told me then that this girl said her name was Fanny, but she had been entered in the books as Mary Brown. She had been admitted on the same day, and about the same time as my daughter, and that was how the two names had been confused. You received notice of your daughter's death, when my daughter died."
"May I ask, sir, what sort of a girl your child was?" said Brown.
"Rather small for her age, and very delicate," said the grieved father, with tears in his eyes. "The girl I saw to-day is not the least like her."
"No, sir, I think there cannot be any mistake this time, for our Vicar went to see our Fanny this morning, and he would be sure to know her. Besides, she talked to him for a little while, though they would not let him stay very long," said Mrs. Brown.
It was agreed before the stranger left that he should come early the next day to see where his child was buried; and he did this before the Browns went to the hospital. The Vicar had been informed of this, and met them at the grave; and the bunch of flowers left there for "the stranger" touched the father's heart very deeply.
When Brown and his wife reached the hospital, they found Fanny anxiously looking out for them.
"You won't be able to stay long, mother," she said, "and I want to tell you something while I can. I told the Vicar all about the watch; but in my box you will find a new brown frock, and I have not paid for it. I got a new place, where I was to have ten pounds a year, that I might pay for this and the watch. Oh, you don't know what a foolish, wicked girl I have been!" said Fanny, bursting into tears.
"Hush! hush! You must not cry, or I shall have to send your mother away, and then you will not be able to tell her what you want her to do," said Nurse, speaking very firmly.
The tears were in her father's eyes as well as in Fanny's; but he managed to say—
"You want me to pay for this dress, dear?"
"Oh yes, if you can. I want you to lend me the money, and when I get well, and can go to service again, I will pay you back, daddy."
"Yes, yes," said her mother; "we will do just what you wish. We have saved some money, you know, to buy new furniture for the parlour, but your new frock shall be paid for out of it directly."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, mother," said Fanny, gratefully. "Now I shall be able to go to sleep, Nurse," she added; "for my father and mother will pay what I owe, I am sure. Give my love to Miriam when you see her. And if Mrs. Lloyd's servant leaves, ask Mrs. Lloyd to wait till I get well, and let me come back to her."
"There, no more," said Nurse; "you must go now," she said, speaking to Mrs. Brown; and the next minute they were hurried out of the ward, and Fanny was swallowing some medicine that should help her to go to sleep.
The rest of my story is soon told. Mrs. Brown went home and once more unlocked Fanny's box. As the girl had told her, she found Mrs. Scott's bill in the pocket, with a few words added that the writer could not afford to give long credit, and that she hoped half the price of the dress would be paid the following week. She showed this to her husband, and he agreed that the whole twenty-five shillings must be paid at once. It seemed an extravagant amount to Mrs. Brown, who had been used to get a frock for Fanny at the cost of a few shillings, even when she had to pay for it herself; and when she looked again at this brown dress she could only say that it was not worth half the money now, it was so tumbled.
But she took the bill and the money to Mrs. Scott that same afternoon, while Brown and a friend, who understood the value of watches, went to see Judd. The man began talking to Brown at first very much as he had talked to Fanny; but he soon learned that the police would be called in, and the whole case taken before a magistrate, if he did not do as Brown wished. Sorely against his will, he had to give a receipt for the ten shillings Fanny had first paid, and acknowledge this as part payment for the watch. Then followed a wrangle with Brown's friend, whom Judd learned was as well acquainted with the value of these watches as himself. The storm raged round the sum of four shillings, which Brown's friend declared had already been paid in excess of the value of the watch. Fifteen shillings was a fair retail price; and, as Fanny had paid nineteen shillings, he demanded that four shillings should be returned to her father; for even at this reduced price, Judd would receive a fair profit, and more than this he had no right to demand.
After a good deal of haggling the four shillings were returned, and the collecting-card receipted in such a way, that although fifteen shillings only were paid, Fanny received a full discharge for the whole amount she had contracted to pay, and no further claim could be made upon her in the future.
This settled, Brown went to hear what the people had to say who had sent to tell him that Fanny was dead. Their explanation was very much like what he had heard from the other Mr. Brown, as to the similarity of the girls' names, but he also added that the violence of the epidemic for a short time had taxed their resources, and compelled their officials to work long beyond their usual hours. Mr. Brown was asked to take these circumstances into his consideration in making complaint about the mistake that had arisen.
With regard to the expense he had incurred, in paying for the funeral of a stranger, ample compensation would be made at once; so that when he left, Brown felt he had very little to grumble about.
A few weeks later, Fanny was sent to a convalescent home at the seaside, and when she returned she was allowed to go direct home to her friends. She was looking very different then from what she did when the Vicar saw her in the hospital. She looked older and graver too, for the bitter experience she had passed through she was never likely to forget. She was wiser too, and more diffident; less eager to receive high wages than to secure a comfortable home, when she would be able once more to take up the threads of life, and learn to be useful.
She had said she would like to go back to Mrs. Lloyd's, but she had small hope of being able to do so, until one day Miss Martin sent to tell her that Mrs. Lloyd's servant had been obliged to go home, because her mother was ill, and Mrs. Lloyd would be glad if Fanny could go to her for a few weeks.
The girl needed no second invitation. She went the same day, and the few weeks extended to months and even years; for the thought of going to a new place was one of horror to Fanny, and though she had to dress plainly, and be careful and economical, there was not a more happy, healthy, winsome lassie than Fanny Brown, who had once been so wilful and selfish as to well-nigh break her mother's heart.
THE END
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.