Chapter 12 A Girl in Ten Thousand by L. T. Meade
When Effie had finished the many small duties which fell to her share inthe household economy, she went up to her bedroom and hastily changedher everyday dress for her best one. She did not take long about thistask. Her small face looked very pale and thin under the heavy crepe onher hat. Taking up her gloves she ran down to the parlor where hermother was sitting. Mrs. Staunton was busily mending some stockings for George. A pile of his clothes lay on the table by her side.
"I thought we might send these to London next week," she said, lookingup as her daughter entered the room. "George will want a really warmgreatcoat for the winter, and this one of your father's--why, Effie, mydear----" She stopped abruptly, and gazed up at Effie's best hat. "Whereare you going, my love?" she said. "I thought you could help me thismorning."
"I am going out, mother, for a little."
"But where to? Why have you your best things on?"
"I am going to the Harveys'."
"To the Harveys'--to The Grange?"
Mrs. Staunton shuddered slightly; she turned her head aside. "Why areyou going there?" she asked, after a pause.
"I want to see them--I won't be long away. Please, mother, don't tireyourself over all that mending now."
"It interests me, my dear; I find it impossible to sit with my handsbefore me. I am stronger than I used to be. I have got to live forGeorge; and George is young, he is entering life, he must not be saddledwith an old, ailing mother. I must get strong, I must get back my youthfor his sake. Don't be long away, Effie, dear. I wonder you like to goto the Harveys' under the circumstances, but you know best. Children arevery independent nowadays," concluded Mrs. Staunton, with a sigh.
Effie went up to her mother and kissed her, then she softly left theroom.
The day was a particularly fine one, the sun shone brightly upon thelittle High Street. Effie walked quickly; she soon turned into a shadylane, the lane led her into the highroad. By and by she stopped at thegates of The Grange.
The woman of the lodge came out when she saw her. This woman had beenfond of Dr. Staunton, and she recognized Effie.
Effie's little figure, her heavy black dress, her crepe hat, her whitecheeks and dark eyes, all appealed with great pathos to the woman. Sheran towards her with outstretched hands.
"Miss Effie, my dear, you're welcome," she said. She caught Effie'slittle white hands in her hard, toil-worn ones. "You are welcome, MissEffie," she repeated; "it is good of you to come. Eh, dear, but it goesto the heart to see you in that deep black! Come in and rest, my dearyoung lady--come in and rest."
"I cannot just now, Mrs. Jones," replied Effie. "I am in a hurry--I wantto go up to see the Squire on business."
"And how is your mother, poor lady--how is she bearing up, my dear?"
"Wonderfully," said Effie. "I'll come and see you another day, Mrs.Jones."
"Eh, do! you'll be more than welcome. I long to hear all about thedoctor, poor man, and how he went off at the end. The last words of thepious are always worth listening to. I'll be glad to hear particulars,if you can give me half an hour some time, Miss Effie."
"Some time," said Effie.
She walked on, trembling a little. The woman's words and her eager lookof curiosity were dreadful to her; nevertheless, she knew that herfather, under similar circumstances, would have been very patient withthis woman.
By and by she arrived at the heavy front door of the old Grange. Shewalked up the steps and rang the bell.
The door was opened almost immediately by a servant in livery. He knewEffie, and asked her in.
"Is the Squire at home?" she asked.
"I am not sure, miss, but I'll inquire. Will you step in here while I goto ask?"
The man opened the door of a little sitting room. Effie went in, and heclosed it softly behind him.
After what seemed a very short time, she heard eager steps coming alongthe hall--the room door was flung open, and Squire Harvey, accompaniedby his wife, came in.
Mrs. Harvey looked like a shadow--but her sweet face had a tenderblush-rose color about it, her eyes had the intensely clear look whichlong illness gives; she was better, but she looked so frail and delicatethat Effie's heart went out to her.
"My dear child," said Mrs. Harvey, "how good, how very good of you tocome! I am only just downstairs. Dr. Edwards only allowed me downyesterday, but I could not resist coming to welcome you myself. Won'tyou come into my sitting room? It is just at the opposite side of thehall. I'll send Rhoda upstairs to fetch little Freda. She will be soenraptured at seeing you. Come, my dear. Now that we have got you, wewon't let you go in a hurry. I think it so sweet of you to come to seeus, and under the circumstances. Don't you think it is sweet of her,Walter, dear?"
Squire Harvey had more perception of character than his wife. He noticedhow white Effie's face grew; he noticed the pathetic trembling of herhands.
"My dear," he said, "perhaps Miss Staunton wishes to see me by herself.I understood from the servant that she had asked for me."
"Yes, I did want to see you very much," said Effie.
"Of course, dear little thing," interrupted Mrs. Harvey; "but I'll staywhile you talk to her. I am immensely interested in you. Miss Staunton.I can never forget, as long as I live, what you and yours have done forus."
"Please don't talk of it now," said Effie. "I mean--I know how kindlyyou feel, and indeed I am not ungrateful, but I cannot bear to talk itover, and I want very badly, please, to say something to the Squire."
"Come with me to my study, Miss Staunton," said the Squire.
He opened the door, and Effie followed him.
"Be sure you make her stay, Walter, when your business is over," calledMrs. Harvey after him. "I'll send for Freda to my boudoir. Miss Stauntonmust stay to lunch. It is delightful to see her again, and it is sosweet of her to come to see us."
The thin, high voice kept calling these words out a little louder and alittle louder as Effie followed the Squire down one long corridor afteranother, until at last they entered his special study.
He shut the door at once, and offered her a chair.
"If I can do anything for you, you have but to command me," he said.
"I see you are in great trouble," he continued. "Pray take your owntime. I have nothing whatever to do--I can listen to you as long as everyou like."
Poor Effie found great difficulty in using her voice. For one dreadfulmoment words seemed to fail her altogether. Then she gave a swiftthought to her mother, to George, and her resolve was taken.
"I want to make a very queer request of you, Mr. Harvey," she said. "Itmay not be possible for you to grant it. For my father's sake, will youpromise that you will never tell anyone what I am now asking you, if youdon't find it convenient to grant it to me?"
"I'll keep your secret, of course," said the Squire. "But permit me tosay one thing before you begin to tell it to me: there's not theslightest fear of my not granting it. There is nothing that you canpossibly ask of me, that, under the circumstances, I should think itright to refuse. Now, pray proceed."
"I want you," said Effie--she gulped down a great lump in her throat,and proceeded in a sort of desperation--"I want you to lend me 250pounds. I'll pay you interest--I think five per cent. is fairinterest--I'll pay you interest on the money, and return it to you byinstallments."
There was not the least doubt that Effie's request startled the Squire.The amount of the money required was nothing to him, for he was a veryrich man; but the girl's manner, her evident distress, the look ofshame and misery on her face, surprised him. He guessed that she wasborrowing the money for another, but for whom?
"I can see you are in trouble," he said in his kindest tone. "Why don'tyou confide in me? As to the money, make your mind easy, you shall haveit; but girls like you don't as a rule borrow a large sum of money ofthis kind. Do you want it for yourself?"
"No."
"You won't tell me who it is for?"
"I cannot, Mr. Harvey. Please don't ask me."
> "I won't ask you anything that distresses you. As you are talking ofmoney, you will forgive me for saying that I am told that your mother isleft badly off."
"No; that's a mistake," said Effie. "She has money. My father left hervery well off for a man in his position. He insured his life for athousand pounds, and my mother had a little fortune of her own, whichbrings in about sixty pounds a year."
"And you think your mother well off with that?" said the Squire in atone of almost amused pity.
"Yes, for a woman in her position," said Effie in almost a proud tone."Forgive me," she said; "I know that, after the request I have justmade, you would be justified in asking me any questions, but I wouldrather not say any more about my mother. If you'll lend me the money--ifindeed you will be so good, so noble--when can I have it?"
"When do you want it?"
"I must have it before six weeks are up, but the sooner the better."
"You shall have it in a week. Come here this day week and I'll give youa check for the amount."'
"A check!" said Effie; "but I would have to pass that through mother'sbank--and--and she might know."
"Are you really asking for this money without your mother's knowledge,Miss Staunton?"
"Yes; my mother is not to know. Mr. Harvey, the object of our lives isto keep all anxiety from our mother--she must never know."
"Forgive me," said the Squire, after a pause. "I know a great deal about business, and you very little. Would it not be best to open an accountin your own name? I am told that you propose soon to go to London. Iwould introduce you to my bankers there, who would be very glad to openan account with you; and if at any time you should have need ofassistance, Miss Staunton, you would give me the privilege of helpingyou. Remember, but for me and mine you would not now be fatherless. Youmust see that you have a claim on me. Allow me to fulfill that claim inthe only possible way in my power."
"You are good, you are more than good," said Effie, rising. "But this isall I really need. I'll pay you the interest on the money every halfyear."
"Oh, that doesn't matter. I earnestly wish you would take it as a gift."
"Thank you, but that is impossible."
Effie stood up; she had nothing further to say.
"May I take you to my wife's room now?" said, the Squire. "I know she iswaiting to see you, she is longing to be friends with you. Her recoveryhas been wonderful; and as to little Freda, she is almost herself again.You would like to see Freda, would you not?"
"Yes," said Effie, "but not to-day--I must hurry back to my mother. Idon't know how to thank you, Mr. Harvey. Will you please tellyour--your wife that I cannot stay to-day?--my mother wants me. Thankyou--thank you."
The Squire himself showed Effie out. He stood for a moment by his openhall door, watched her as she walked slowly down the avenue.
"That is a plucky little thing," he said to himself. "Now, what in theworld does she want that money for? Not for herself, I'll be bound. I dohope she has got no disreputable relations hanging onto her. Well, atleast it is my bounden duty to help her, but I wish she would confide inme. She is a pretty girl, too, and has a look of the doctor about hereyes."
"Where is Miss Staunton?" asked Mrs. Harvey, coming forward.
"Vanishing round that corner, my love," returned the Squire. "The factis, the poor little thing is completely upset, and cannot face anyone."
"But her business, Walter--what did she want?"
"Ah, that's the secret--she made me swear not to tell anyone. It is myopinion, Elfreda, that the child has got into trouble. We must do whatwe can for her."
"I wish she would come here and be Freda's governess," said Mrs. Harvey.
The Squire looked at his wife.
"That's a good thought," he remarked; "and we might give her a bigsalary--she is so innocent, she would not really know anything about it.We might give her two hundred a year, and then she could help hermother; but I doubt whether she would leave her mother--she seems simplybound up in her."
"It is our duty to help her," said Mrs. Harvey, "whatever happens. Ifshe won't come to us, we must think of some other way."
"Yes we must," said the Squire.