CHAPTER XVIISUNSHINE AGAIN
So absorbed was Rose in her trouble that she took little or no interest in the attempt to discover her family, or the discussions that took place in the Blossom household as to its probable result. “I don’t believe I have any relatives,” she said indifferently, “or they would have looked after me when my mother and father died. And even if I have they wouldn’t want to own any one accused of stealing.”
That was the burden of all her thoughts; she woke in the morning to a sense of overwhelming calamity, and went to sleep at night with its pressure heavy on her heart. When Grandmother Sweet had mildly questioned if in the discovery of the marriage certificate she did not see the hand of Providence, she had replied, with the irritability of suffering, that she didn’t believe in Providence at all.“I might,” she had added, “if that money could be found; I sha’n’t till then.”
For to Rose the executioner’s sword had not been lifted, only stayed for the time. Visions of arrest and imprisonment were constantly before her, all the more terrifying that the vagueness of her knowledge as to their realities left ample room for her imagination. “Howcan I tell where the money is when I don’t know?” was the question she repeated over and over. “And you know what he said he would do if I didn’t tell?”
She refused to go to school for fear her schoolmates had heard of her disgrace. She cried till she was nearly blind, and fretted herself into a fever, till Mrs. Blossom, fearing she would make herself really sick, talked to her seriously on the selfishness as well as the harm of self-indulgence, even in grief, and the duty as well as the need of self-control.
Rose had never thought of her conduct in that light before, and left alone she lay for a long time, now thoroughly aroused from her morbid self-absorption, and looking herself, as it were, fully in the face. The fire crackledcheerily in the little stove, the sunshine came in at the window of the pleasant, low chamber, on the stand by her bed were a cup of sage tea Grandmother Sweet had made for her, a glass of aconite Mrs. Patience had prepared, and a dainty china bowl of lemon jelly Miss Silence had brought to tempt if possible her appetite. Mute evidence, each and all of kindly affection, that touched Rose and filled her with a sense of shame that she had made such poor return for all that had been done for her.
Rising with a sudden impulse, she went to the little glass, pushed back the tumbled hair from her tear-swollen face, and sternly took herself to task. “I’m ashamed of you, I am indeed, that after you have been taken into this home, and cared for, you should be so ungrateful as to make every one in it uncomfortable now, because you happen to be in trouble; and should have shown yourself as disagreeable, and selfish, and thoughtless as you have. Not one of them would have done so, you may be sure; and if you ever expect to grow into a woman that people will respect and love as they do Grandmother Sweet, orMrs. Blossom, or Miss Silence, or Mrs. Patience, youmustlearn to control yourself. And now, to begin, you must brush your hair, bathe your eyes, go downstairs and do as you ought to do. I know it will be pretty hard, but youmustdo it.”
It was hard. With a morbid self-consciousness that every one could not but know of her trouble she had hidden, shrinking from the village folk who so often came in; she was so weak that as she crossed the room she had to put her hand against the wall to steady her steps; and now that she was making the effort to rouse herself she began to see the luxury it had been to be perfectly wretched. But Rose resisted the temptation to throw herself again on the bed; she crept steadily, if somewhat weakly, downstairs, and made a brave attempt at smiling. With a guilty sense of all the opportunities for making herself useful she had neglected, she took up a stitch in her knitting Grandmother Sweet had dropped; overcast some velvet for Mrs. Patience, who was in a hurry with a bonnet; and that done helped Miss Silence set the table and make supper ready.
They all saw the struggle Rose was making and helped her by keeping her mind as much as possible off from herself. And though that missing money still hung its dark shadow over her, and she started at every step outside with the sinking fear that it might be some one coming to arrest her, when she went to her room that night Grandmother Sweet patted her cheek as she kissed her good-night and whispered, “Thee has done bravely, Rose,” an unspoken approval she read in the manner of the others. More than that, she was surprised to find her heart lighter than she would have thought possible a few hours before.
To keep steadily on in the way she had marked out for herself was anything but easy during those days of suspense and anxiety. To hold back the lump that was always threatening to rise in her throat, the tears from springing to her eyes; to keep a cheerful face when her heart would be sinking down, down; to feel an interest in the concerns of others when her own seemed to swallow up everything else. But it was her first step in a habit of conscious self-discipline thatshe never forgot, and that helped her to meet many an after hour of trial.
So something over a week went by, for though Mrs. Blossom had seen Mr. Nathan Fifield several times the mystery was as much of a mystery as the first day, and in spite of all Mrs. Blossom could urge both he and Miss Eudora seemed to grow the more bitter toward Rose. Nor had there come any answer to the letters of inquiry sent to Fredonia. Every possible theory having been exhausted in both cases, the subjects had come to be avoided by a tacit consent. While as to the matter of the marriage certificate, that had made so little impression on Rose’s mind that she was less disappointed than the others in regard to it. Mrs. Blossom did not fail to pray daily at family devotions that the truth they were seeking might be revealed, and innocence established, and she moved around with the serene manner of one who has given over all care to a higher power. But though Rose was unconsciously sustained by a reliance on that strong faith she did not pray for herself. A hopeless apathychilled her. There might be a God, it didn’t matter much to her, for if there was she was an alien to His love, and she knew she was that for all the rest might say.
But one afternoon Rose saw a little procession—Mr. Nathan Fifield and his two sisters, in single file, crossing the now snow-covered common in the direction of Mrs. Blossom’s. All her fears revived at the sight. She sprang up, her eyes dilated, her face flushing and paling. “There they come!” she cried. “I knew they would. They are going to put me in prison, I know they are! Oh, don’t let them take me away! Don’t let them!” and she threw herself down beside Miss Silence and hid her face in her lap as if for safety.
Silence put her strong arms about the trembling form. “Sit up, Rose,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, “and wait till you see what there is to be afraid of.”
By the time Rose had struggled back to outward calmness the visitors had entered; Mr. Nathan, his face almost as red as the red silk handkerchief he waved in his hand;Miss Eudora dissolved in tears; and Miss Fifield with an expression of mingled vexation and crestfallen humility.
There was a moment’s awkward silence, broken by Mr. Nathan in an abrupt and aggravated tone. “I’ve come to explain a mistake I have been led into by women’s meddling and—”
“You needn’t include me,” interrupted Miss Eudora. “You know I wouldn’t have said what I did if you hadn’t made me feel that we were in danger of being murdered in our beds, and I hadn’t thought Jane would be always blaming me if I didn’t use decision. Nobody can tell how painful it has been for me to do what I have. I don’t know when my nerves will recover from the strain, and I’ve lost flesh till my dresses are so loose they will hardly hang on me. I’m sure I never dreamed that Jane—”
“Oh, yes, lay all the blame you can on Jane,” rejoined that lady grimly. “It isn’t often you get the chance, so both of you make the best of it. I’m sure when I went away I never dreamed that you were going to get in a panicand act like a pair of lunatics, particularly a strong-minded man like Nathan. I never was so astonished as when I reached home on the stage to-day and found out what had happened. Eudora says she wrote me about it, but if she did she must have forgotten to put the State on; she always does, and the letter may be making the round of the Romes of the whole country; or else Nathan is carrying it in his pocket yet—he never does remember to mail a letter.”
“If I were you I wouldn’t say anything about remembering, now or for some time to come,” snapped her brother.
“Friends,” Grandmother Sweet’s voice was serenely calm, “if thee will refrain from thy bickering and explain what thee means, it will be clear to our minds what doubtless thee wishes us to know.”
While Rose, unable longer to restrain her impatience, exclaimed, “Oh, tell us, have you found who stole the money?”
“That is just what I want to do if I can have a chance,” and Mr. Fifield glared at Jane and Eudora. Then to Rose, “No, wehaven’t found who stole the money,” and as her face paled he hastened to add, “because, in fact, the money was not stolen at all.”
“Where—what—” cried his eager listeners, while Rose drew a long breath of infinite relief and sank back in her chair trembling, almost faint with the joyful relaxation after the long strain of anxiety.
“Jane,” Mr. Nathan continued, rubbing his head till every hair stood up, “simply saw fit to remove the money from the place where she knew I was in the habit of keeping it, without even letting me know what she had done.”
“You see,” explained Miss Fifield, feeling herself placed on the defensive and determined to maintain it boldly, “I had just read of a man who kept his money in a stove, and one day some one built a fire and burned it all up, so I felt a stove was not a very safe hiding-place.”
“Well,” snorted Mr. Nathan, “as there hasn’t to my certain knowledge been a fire in that parlor stove for the last four years, I don’t think there was much danger, to say nothing of the fact that gold will not burn.”
“But it will melt,” triumphantly. “Besides, I have been told that when burglars go into a house under carpets and in stoves are among the first places they look. For these reasons I changed it to a trunk under a pile of papers in the store-room. I intended to have told Nathan what I had done, but in the hurry of getting away I did forget. But I should have thought that before accusing any one they would have waited to see what I knew about the matter.”
“You say so much about my being forgetful that I didn’t suppose you ever did such a thing as to forget,” growled Mr. Nathan. And Eudora added, “And her mind’s always on what she is doing. She has so little patience with mistakes I never thought of her being the one to blame.”
“At any rate,” retorted Miss Fifield, “I don’t lose my glasses a dozen times a day. And I don’t put things in the oven to bake and get to mooning and let them burn up. I admit I was in fault about this, and I am as sorry as I can be for the trouble it has made, and most of all for the unjust suspicion it has brought on Rose; but, fortunately, no onebut ourselves is aware of this, and I don’t know as it will make matters any better to harp on it forever.”
In fact, it needed no words to tell that the Fifields were not only heartily sorry for what had happened, but decidedly ashamed. For every one had been touched in the way to be felt most keenly; Squire Fifield in that he had been proven unjust and mistaken in his opinion, Miss Eudora that she had been hard-hearted, and Miss Fifield that she had failed in memory and laid herself open to blame. This blow at the especial pride of each, made them, while really glad that Rose had been proved innocent, for the moment almost wish that she or some one could at least have been guilty enough to have saved them the present irritation of chagrin and humiliation.
Perhaps unconsciously something of this showed itself in Mr. Nathan’s manner as he said: “Yes, Rose, we deeply regret that we have wrongfully accused you—though I must still say that under the circumstances we seemed justified in doing so, and I hope you will accept this as a compensation for thetrouble it has made you,” and he dropped a couple of gold eagles in her lap.
Rose’s cheeks crimsoned. “I don’t want any such money,” she cried hotly, flinging the gold coins to the floor. “Because I was poor and hadn’t any home or friends you thought I must be a liar and a thief. If you had said as though you’d meant it that you were sorry for the way you had treated me it would have been all I asked. I don’t ask to be paid for being honest. It’s an insult for you to offer to, and I’d beg before I’d touch it, I would!”
“Rose, Rose!” reproved Mrs. Blossom, who had been unable to check the indignant torrent. “I trust you will overlook the way Rose has spoken,” she hastened to say. “This last week has been a great strain on her, and her nerves are in a condition that she is hardly responsible.” As she spoke she gave a warning glance at Silence, from the expression of whose face she knew that she approved of Rose’s action, and was fearful would endorse it in words; at the same time Mrs. Patience looked at Rose in amazementthat she should dare thus to provoke Nathan Fifield’s well-known irascible temper, and all present waited for the explosion they expected would follow.
But contrary to their expectation after a moment’s amazement he began to laugh. “She’ll do,” he said to Mrs. Blossom with a nod of approval. “Grit like that will pull through every time, and she’s got it about right, too. Upon my word,” rubbing his hands as if at a sudden idea, “if no one else puts in a claim I will be tempted to adopt her myself. I believe an education wouldn’t be wasted, and with her spunk I’d like to see what she would make.”
One good thing about Rose’s temper was that though fiery its flame was quickly spent, and penitence was almost sure to swiftly follow wrath. It was so in this case; hardly had he ceased speaking when a meek little voice was heard, “I didn’t do right at all, Mr. Fifield, to talk to you as I did, and I hope you’ll forgive me?”
“Well, my dear,” was the answer, “I didn’t do right either in being so ready to think evil of you, in being on the lookout forsomething wrong, as I was, and I hope you’ll forgive me?”
“And me, too,” sobbed Miss Eudora. “I never was hard on anybody before in my life, and I’m sure I never will be again.”
“And now,” observed Miss Fifield drily, “I suppose I ought to ask to be forgiven for being the guilty one.”
“Oh, Miss Fifield,” and Rose caught her hand, “we all forget things; I know I tried you lots of times by forgetting. It wasn’t—I suppose—strange they should have thought as they did, but it’s all right now. And please promise me, Mr. Fifield and Miss Eudora, that you will let it all go, and never say anything unpleasant to Miss Fifield about it.”
“Why, child!” cried Mr. Nathan, as if astonished at the idea, “I wouldn’t say anything unpleasant to my sisters, I never do. Of course I have to hold them level now and then, but I don’t know as I ever spoke a really unpleasant word to them in my life.”
“Yes,” Miss Fifield’s tone was complacent, “that is one of the things I have always been thankful for, that we were a perfectlyharmonious family. I don’t deny that I am tried sometimes with Nathan and Eudora, but I never let them know it.”
“I have my trials, too,” added Miss Eudora with a pensive shake of her little grey curls, “but I bear them in silence. Family squabbles are so disgraceful that I don’t see how a person of refinement could ever take part in one.”
Rose stared round-eyed from one to another speaker, and Silence Blossom turned her face away for a moment; but Grandmother Sweet smiled gently, for she had long ago learned how seldom it is that people know their own faults, or see themselves as others see them.
As they were leaving Miss Fifield turned to Rose. “Of course we shall want you to come back to us. When will that be?”
“Not just at present,” Mrs. Blossom hastened to answer. “First of all she must have time to rest and get back to her usual self.” Rose lifted grateful eyes, for at that moment it didn’t seem to her that she could enter the Fifield house again.
At the door Miss Eudora paused. “Andyou haven’t heard anything yet about her people? Finding the marriage certificate in the locket was just like a story. And if she should prove to be an heiress how romantic that would be! I heard of such a case the winter I was in Albany.”