Once More in Concord
BUT as Polly did not immediately recover from the shock and exposure of the fire, Betty Graham did not return home with her family to Concord.
Anthony took the nurse and children and Faith Barton accompanied them, in order to keep Angelique from being lonely, she explained. However, her real desire, of course, was to be able to see as much as possible of Kenneth Helm.
Nevertheless, the carrying on of her romance with the same secrecy as she had first observed was not so easy now, nor did it seem to Faith so desirable as in the beginning. Yet Kenneth still implored her to say nothing for a short while longer. In a few weeks perhaps things would be all right with him, so that he would have sufficient money not to worry over the future. Then, of course, they could explain the reason for their silence. In the meantime,however, perhaps they had best be a little more careful, for people were noticing their intimacy and beginning to talk. Indeed, Faith's chief difficulty was that her foster parents, Rose and Doctor Barton, had observed her marked interest in Kenneth Helm during his Christmas visit with them and had asked Faith if there was anything between them.
Naturally this placed the girl in a painfully trying position. She was devotedly fond of both Rose and Doctor Barton, who were in reality not old enough to be her parents, although they had always treated her like an adored child, giving in to most of her whims and wishes. But while Faith was selfish and considered her own dreams and desires of the utmost importance, she was neither ungrateful nor unloving, nor fond of deceiving the people for whom she cared. The trouble was that she was too much under Kenneth Helm's influence, else she would never have consented to keeping their engagement a secret.
Faith was not aware of the fact, but in reality it was Kenneth who had made the concealment of their affection for each otherappear romantic and alluring to her eyes. Often she had longed to confide the news to Betty after Angel had proved so unexpectedly unsympathetic. However, having given her word to Kenneth, she felt in duty bound to keep it, and moreover she was the least bit afraid of him.
The real truth of the matter was that Faith Barton was more in love with Kenneth than he was with her. Not that Faith was unattractive, but because Kenneth was incapable of caring a great deal for any one except himself.
In the beginning he had been greatly interested, for Faith was pretty and full of a great many amusing ideas and ideals. Moreover, at the time she was a favored member of Governor Graham's family and might turn out to be useful. But Kenneth had no actual desire to marry any one for the present and had not at first taken their engagement seriously. Recently, however, discovering that Faith was desperately in earnest and that she might at any moment announce the fact to her family and friends, the young man had been extremely uncomfortable. More than once he hadreproached himself for not having made a friend of Angelique instead of Faith. She was not nearly so pretty, but she was cleverer and she might have been more helpful.
Indeed, Kenneth rather admired the fashion in which Angel had kept her word with him and had not reported the fact of his presence in the Governor's study on the night of the Inaugural Ball. Besides she had never referred to his accusation against her, so there was no doubt that the little French girl was a true sport, whatever else she might be.
Moreover, when Governor Graham and his family returned to the Governor's mansion it was plain enough that Angel must have enjoyed some good fortune in their absence. She seemed to have cast off her embarrassment and chagrin over the suspicion which had rested upon her, and no one had ever seen her so happy or so gay.
Before little Bettina had been at home five minutes she and Angelique had vanished up-stairs together and were soon locked fast in the big nursery.
Then Angel straightway drew a large envelope out of her pocket and began waving it before Bettina's astonished eyes. Naturally the little girl had no idea that a letter could be so very important, not even so large a one as Angel's.
An instant later and she was the more mystified, for her companion had slipped a long, rather narrow piece of paper, with queer scrawls written upon it, out of the envelope and was also holding it up for her audience to admire.
Bettina smiled politely although a trifle wistfully. It was hard luck not being able to read anything except printed letters when one was as old as six. However, her mother and father did not wish her to become a student too early in life.
"It is a very nice letter, Angel, if it makes you so glad," Bettina remarked gently; "only there does not seem to be a great deal of writing on it."
Then the older girl threw her arm about her little friend's neck and hugged her close.
"Of course you don't understand, darling, and it's hateful of me to tease you," she protested. "But that piece of paper is acheck; it represents two hundred whole dollars, the most money I have ever had at once in my life. And do you know how I got it? Our little picture of 'Snow White and Rose Red' received the prize in the magazine contest. I had a letter, too, saying that though it was not the best drawing, it was the loveliest little girl. So you see it was really all because of you, Bettina, that I got the prize!"
Then Angel did another mysterious thing. She made Bettina close her eyes very tight and while they were closed she clasped something around her neck which fastened with a tiny click. Then on opening them the little girl discovered a shining gold heart outside her white dress, and in the center of the heart a small, clear stone that glittered like a star.
"I got it for you; it is your Christmas present from me, Bettina," Angel explained. "And I want you to try and keep it always so that you may not forget 'Snow White and Rose Red.' Only please don't tell any one of my having gotten the prize until your mother comes home; I want her to know first."
Naturally Bettina promised and having promised she was not a child who ever broke her word. Perhaps the request was an unfortunate one under the circumstances, and yet how could Angel ever have imagined such a possibility?
A few days later, coming into his wife's private sitting room, which was next her bedroom, quite by accident Governor Graham happened to catch sight of a beautiful new silver bowl which he did not recall having seen before. Then besides its newness it had a card lying inside which attracted his attention.
"Some one has sent Betty a Christmas gift which she probably knows nothing of," Anthony thought carelessly. "I must write and tell her of it." Casually he picked up the card and saw Angelique Martins' name engraved upon it.
The next moment he looked at the bowl more attentively. Of course he knew very little of these matters, yet this present struck him as being an exceedingly expensive one from a girl in Angelique's position. She received a very small salary for her work and she must have many needs of her own.
Then Governor Graham frowned uneasily, for he had suddenly remembered that Bettina had exhibited a beautiful little gold chain and necklace which her adored Angel had recently given her. How had the girl acquired so much money all at once? Really he preferred not to have to consider such a question, and yet it might possibly become his duty.
Sitting down in front of the fire, Anthony tried to forget his annoyances in smoking a cigar, but found it impossible.
The close of the Christmas holidays had not made his responsibilities less; indeed, they were crowding more thickly upon him. The lost papers had not been found and in another week ex-Governor Peyton, Jack Emmet and John Everett would have their bill before the Legislature. They had many friends and unless he were able to prove their dishonesty the bill might be passed in spite of the Governor's objections.
Finally Anthony glanced toward the mantel-piece where by chance his eyes rested upon a photograph of Betty.
Immediately his expression changed. "I shall write Betty of this whole businesstonight," he announced out loud, in his determination. "I have been an utter idiot to have kept the situation from her for so long a time. I have wondered recently if perhaps she was not quite so fond of me because I was taking her less into my confidence? Goodness knows, that is the only sensible thing for a man and wife to do! Besides, Betty seemed more like her old self when we were in Woodford and so perhaps I can make her understand how I hate to seem hard on her old friends. But in any case this suspicion that Kenneth Helm has fastened in my mind against Angel must be looked into by Betty. Angel is a young girl and Betty has been like her older sister. Whatever she has done, I don't know that I would have the courage to disgrace her, but perhaps Betty may be able to persuade the child to return the letters to us if she has taken them. Heigh-ho! It will be a relief to me at least to have the Princess take hold of this situation for me."
And Governor Graham spent the entire evening in his sitting room writing to his wife until after midnight.
Things Are Cleared Up
AS Polly was a little better, immediately upon receipt of her husband's letter Betty hurried home.
First she and Anthony had a long talk together until things were once more quite clear and happy between them.
Of course Anthony insisted that he had been unreasonable and that Betty was a "Counsel of Perfection" just as he had always believed her; nevertheless the Princess was by no means ready to agree with him; nor was Polly's little sermon in Sunrise Cabin ever entirely forgotten.
Naturally Betty was grieved to hear that Anthony considered her old friend, John Everett, and also Meg's husband, Jack Emmet, dishonest; yet when he had carefully explained all his reasons for thinking so, she was finally convinced.
Not for a single instant, however, would she consider the bare possibility of AngeliqueMartins' having had anything to do with the loss of the Governor's important letters. She had known Angel too long and too well and trusted her entirely. Besides, she had been one of her own Camp Fire girls who had kept the Camp Fire laws and gained its not easily acquired honors.
So Betty Graham did the only intelligent thing in all such difficulties and suspicions—she went directly to Angel and told her that she believed in her, but asked that they might discuss the whole matter. She even told her that she and Governor Graham had both wondered at her having a sum of money which she could scarcely have earned through her work.
The woman and the girl were in Betty's pretty sitting room when they had their long talk. It was their first meeting without other people being present since Mrs. Graham's return. And Angel sat on a little stool at her friend's feet with her dark eyes gazing directly into those of her dearest friend.
It was good to have this opportunity for confidences. Angel breathed a sigh of relief when she learned that the Governorhad confessed his own suspicion to his wife. For she had never a moment's fear that Betty might fail in faith toward her. Of course, she had never seen the missing letters and had no idea what could have become of them.
Perhaps it was curious, yet not even to the Governor's wife did Angelique during this interview speak of her own distrust of Kenneth Helm. She was hardly conscious of the exact reasons for her reticence, except she had no possible proof against Kenneth, and Betty and the Governor were both fond of him. Moreover, it seemed a disloyalty to Faith Barton to suspect the man to whom Faith had given her affection.
But Angel was very happy to explain where she had acquired her recent wealth and Betty was as happy and proud as only Betty Graham could be of her friends' good fortunes. She could hardly wait to see the picture, of course, and registered an unspoken vow that Angel should have art lessons when she had so much talent, no matter how much the girl herself might oppose the idea. Certainly she and Anthony would owe this much to theirlittle friend for even the faintest doubt of her.
But Angel had other information which she was even more shy in confessing. It did not amount to very much at present, only she and Horace Everett had taken a great fancy to each other during Horace's stay in Concord for the Christmas holidays. She had seen him nearly every day and Horace had made no secret of his liking for her. He had not exactly proposed, but had told her that he meant to as soon as he had known her long enough to make it proper.
It was all very beautiful and unexpected to Angelique, for she had seldom dreamed of any one's caring for her in just this particular way. And that it should be so splendid a person as Horace Everett made everything more wonderful. Of course, Angel could not be so unhappy as she had been before Christmas; nevertheless, for Betty's and Governor Graham's sake she felt that the mystery of the lost letters must be cleared up within the next few days.
There was only one piece of information, however, which Betty had given her that offered any possible clue to the enigma.Governor Graham believed that whoever had taken the letters had probably sold them to the three men who would most profit by their disappearance.
Yet Angel had no experience in the work of a detective and could only hope to be of use, without the faintest idea of how she might manage it.
There was one thing, however, which Angelique regarded as her absolute duty after her own talk with Betty Graham. She simply must endeavor to be better friends with Faith Barton. For somehow Betty's faith and affection for her had served to remind her of her almost forgotten Camp Fire loyalties.
Kinder than any one else except Betty, Faith had certainly been to her long ago, when she had first come, ill and a stranger, to Sunrise Cabin. Besides, what had Faith ever done except be a little selfish and unreasonable of late, and Angel knew that she was troubled by her own affairs?
It was only a few nights after her own interview with Betty, when one evening immediately after dinner, Angel went up alone to Faith's room for the first time sincetheir misunderstanding. She did not know whether Faith would care to see her, but she meant to try. For Faith had not dined with the rest of the family; she had sent down word that she had a headache and desired to be left alone.
Nevertheless, when she discovered who it was who was knocking at her door, she grudgingly said, "Come in."
The truth was that Faith was unhappy and needed consolation. She had never had any trouble in her life before without some one to comfort her, and now possibly Angel was the only person who could be of service, since Angel alone knew her secret.
Faith was sitting up in bed looking very pretty in a pale blue cashmere dressing gown with a cap of white muslin and lace on her fair hair. Yet she had plainly been crying, for her eyes and nose were both a little red. Moreover, she had eaten no dinner, as a tray of food sat untouched on a small table close beside her.
So Angel's first effort was quietly to persuade Faith to have something to eat. Then she led her to talking of Woodford and the Christmas with Rose and DoctorBarton. And within a few moments Faith was again in tears.
It could not be very wrong, she then decided, to confide what was worrying her to so insignificant a person as Angel. Surely even Kenneth could not resent this!
So Faith revealed the fact that she had recently received a letter from Rose Barton and that Rose had asked her again if she felt any unusual interest in Kenneth Helm. Rose had been very kind and had said more than once that she did not wish to force Faith's confidence. Only she cared for her and her happiness so much that she hoped Faith would keep no secret of this kind from her.
And Faith had gone immediately with this letter to Kenneth Helm, begging him that she at least be allowed to confess their engagement to the two friends who had been almost more than a father and mother to her.
However, Kenneth had absolutely and flatly refused and Faith could not make up her mind what she should do.
Without a word or a sign Angelique heard the entire story through, althoughshe was secretly raging with indignation against Kenneth and wondering how Faith could possibly be so much under his influence that she seemed to have no mind or will of her own.
Moreover, even after Faith had ended her story and sat evidently waiting for some comment from her companion, Angel could think of nothing to say that would be sufficiently circumspect. For if she even so much as breathed a word against Kenneth, Faith would probably be exceedingly angry and rally to his defence at once. So the little French girl sat motionless on the side of the bed, staring rather stupidly at the wall opposite her.
By and by, however, Faith leaned over and put her arms about her.
"Tell me, Angel, just what you would do if you were in my place?" the girl pleaded. "Really, I am so miserable I can't decide."
Angel looked at her earnestly. "Do you really mean that?" she queried. And when Faith bowed her head, she answered decisively:
"Why, if I were you, I should simply write to Kenneth Helm tonight and say tohim that he was either to allow you to tell Rose and Doctor Barton of your engagement or else you would consider your engagement broken."
Faith caught her breath and then her cheeks flushed.
"Would you mind getting me some paper and the pen and ink out of my desk?" she returned quietly.
And Angel, almost dazed by the quickness with which the other girl had accepted her suggestion, at once walked over to her desk. But the drawer of the desk which contained the paper had stuck and as she had only one hand (the other held her cane) she had to tug and tug at it before it would come loose.
Then of course it behaved in the usual fashion. For suddenly the entire drawer plunged forward and every single thing it contained scattered over the floor. There were letters and papers and ribbons and photographs and pens and pencils and powder puffs.
She Sprang Out of Bed Herself the Next MomentShe Sprang Out of Bed Herself the Next Moment
"Oh, I am so sorry, Faith dear! I am the most awkward person in the whole world," Angel apologized. "But if you'lljust forgive me I'll clear up in half a minute."
Faith smiled a little restlessly as her friend stooped to her task.
However, she sprang out of bed herself the next moment, for Angel had picked up a package from the floor which had a blue paper and a rubber band about it and was also marked with the Governor's official seal.
Faith tried to jerk the letters from her friend's hand.
"Put those down at once, Angel!" she commanded angrily. "Why don't you do as I tell you? Those papers are not mine; I am keeping them for Kenneth Helm. He told me they were of the most private nature possible and that no one was to be allowed to see them."
However, even after this stern injunction, the French girl did not give up the package of letters. Instead, without Faith's being aware of her intention, she kept edging nearer and nearer toward the door which led into the hall and so farther along to Betty's and Governor Graham's rooms. She remembered that they had also goneup-stairs together after dinner. And her hope was that they had not yet left the house.
Then suddenly she turned, and running faster than she ever had since her lameness she got out of Faith's bedroom and was on her way to her desired destination.
Moreover, for the moment Faith made no effort to follow her, for she believed Angel to have lost her senses.
Why should she desire to run away with Kenneth Helm's private papers? Faith could even now hear Angel's cane tapping its way rapidly along the hall.
Then she ran to the door and stuck her head out, calling the other girl to return. She didn't quite dare follow her, for she had on only her night-dress and dressing gown and the servants or Governor Graham might probably see her.
For another half hour Faith had to remain in anger and suspense. Of course, she dressed as quickly as possible and went to Angel's room, but Angel was not there, neither could she be discovered in either of the children's nurseries or in any room on the ground floor.
At last in desperation Faith knocked on Mrs. Graham's sitting room door. It was Betty herself who answered the knock, although Faith caught a glimpse of Angelique Martins standing with the Governor under a rose-colored electric light and thought they both looked unusually cheerful.
Moreover, it was Betty and not Angel who returned to the bedroom with Faith.
Just as carefully and as kindly as she could Betty then explained the importance of Angel's discovery to her guest. She said that it was very hard indeed for them to believe that Kenneth Helm had stolen these letters, since Governor Graham had felt every confidence in him. However, if Faith declared that Kenneth had given her the letters for safe-keeping, there was nothing else for them to believe. He must have demanded a larger sum of money for the papers than the other men were willing to pay him. Therefore, it had evidently been his intention to keep them until the last moment in order to accomplish his end.
Of course, this statement of Betty Graham's at the time was only a surmiseon the part of her husband, notwithstanding it turned out to be the correct one.
For Kenneth Helm finally confessed the truth himself in the face of the evidence which Governor Graham held against him. His only excuse was the dangerous and disastrous one that he had longed to grow rich sooner than he could with the everyday grind of a business career.
So, after all, Faith Barton wrote her letter on the same evening she had intended. Betty's and Angel's and Governor Graham's suspicions of Kenneth, besides the facts themselves, were more than enough to convince her judgment, especially when her heart had been having its own misgivings for some time past.
It was in entire meekness of spirit and yet in thanksgiving that Faith Barton decided upon breaking off her engagement, which she was glad never to have acknowledged to any one save Angelique Martins. Angel, she knew, would never betray her. Nevertheless, before Faith had been at home twenty-four hours she had confessed the entire story to Rose Barton and together they had wept over her fortunate escape.
Finis
POLLY O'NEILL was on her sister's front porch reading a letter from Doctor Sylvia Wharton. It was now spring time.
Sylvia had written that Bobbin was getting on at school in the most amazing fashion. Not only could she now pronounce Polly's name but hundreds of others, and she could certainly hear better than she had several months before.
Nevertheless, Polly let the letter slide out of her hand and the tears came to her eyes. She was not sad, however, only so extremely glad for Bobbin's sake and for her own.
"After all, perhaps I am not so entirely selfish a human being as some persons believe me," she announced to herself with a shrug of her shoulders. "For at least one little girl in this world does not think so, and never shall."
Then Polly closed her eyes and fell to dreaming. She was not really asleep, only resting. She had had rather a hard struggle after Mollie's fire and her own unfortunate part in it. That wretched cold she had taken settled on her lungs immediately afterwards and she was now only strong enough to lead an ordinary existence. There was no thought of her acting again until the next fall.
She was not yet feeling particularly vigorous, so now although she plainly heard the sound of a man's footsteps approaching the veranda, she made no effort to open her eyes. It was probably Billy or one of his farm men. If a question should be asked of her then would come the time for answering it.
Nevertheless, she had not expected that the man would walk deliberately up to her and then stand in front of her without saying a word.
Miss O'Neill felt annoyed and her cheeks flamed with the two bright spots of color always characteristic of her. Notwithstanding, she opened her eyes coldly and calmly, haughtily she hoped.
The intruder did not flinch. He merely continued gazing at her and still without speaking.
But Polly's flush burned deeper, although she also said nothing.
"I had to come, Miss Polly," Richard Hunt announced at last.
Polly motioned to a chair near by. "You were good—to trouble," she returned slowly. "It has been four months since I saw you last and asked you to come; and since then I have very nearly died."
Then she smiled and held out her hand with the utmost friendliness.
"Forgive me," she begged. "I am glad to see you at any time. I am afraid I am behaving like the preacher who reproaches the members of his congregation for not doing their duty and attending service on the very Sundays when they have shown up."
But Richard Hunt would not be frivolous.
"Have you wanted to see me?" he asked gravely.
Polly nodded.
"Then why didn't you write or have some one tell me? I would have come across the world if I had known," he replied.
In return Polly shrugged her shoulders. "I did everything I could when we were in Colorado to persuade you to be friends with me again. I behaved without the least pride; I almost begged you to be kind to me. Of course you were very nice then and interested in Bobbin, but I could not go on forever pleading for your friendship. Still I thought at least when you heard I was ill that you might be sorry."
Then to her own complete chagrin Polly felt her eyes filling with tears.
How big and strong and restful Richard Hunt looked! Why had she not had the sense to have married him in the days when he had cared for her? Somehow she believed that her life would have been ever so much happier and more satisfying. She could have gone on with her work too, because no one in the world except Richard Hunt had ever understood how much of her heart was wrapped up in it—perhaps because he was an actor himself and loved his own art.
Notwithstanding, Polly realized that she could scarcely cry before her visitor for his affection, which she had so deliberatelythrown away a good many years before. Moreover, what would Mollie think of her bad manners toward their guest?
Slowly she got up from her chair.
"Do come into the house with me and see my sister, Mr. Hunt?" she said graciously. "And you must stay and have lunch with us, or even longer if you will. I am sure my brother-in-law will be more than happy to meet you again."
But Richard Hunt did not stir. "Please sit down again, Polly," he urged more gently. "You don't look strong enough to be walking about alone. I want to explain to you why I have seemed unappreciative of your friendliness. You will have to understand this in the future as well as now, for possibly after today I shall not see you again."
"Oh!" Polly exclaimed a little huskily, and fortunately she could not see how white her own face had turned. However, at this moment her companion was not looking at her.
"I can't be your friend, because I happen still to be too much in love with you for mere friendship," Richard Hunt continuedin the quiet, self-contained fashion that had always made so strong an impression upon his companion. "I know that I have had many years to get over this feeling for you, Polly, and that I should not trouble you by mentioning my love again. Only I want you to forgive me and to realize why I may have seemed not to appreciate your wish to be friends."
But Polly was now smiling through her tears and holding out both hands in her old irrepressible Irish fashion that neither the years nor circumstances could change.
"But I don't want to be just friends with you either, Richard, if you are still willing for me to be something more after the way I have behaved," she whispered. "You see I only pretended I wanted to be your friend so you would not give me up altogether."
Transcriber's Notes:Obvious punctuation errors repaired.The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.