The Girls at Mount Morris by Amanda Minnie Douglas (ebook reader for manga .TXT) 📕

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"And I wish you much joy and happiness, which you will surely have. And you will be fitted to grace any position. You will have one of the loveliest of women for a mother, and two brothers who, so far, have been most exemplary. And that darling, Zay--the whole town loves her."

Lilian wiped her eyes, and pressed Mrs. Dane's hand fervently. Would Zay proffer her a sister's love?

She went back to Mrs. Boyd, who suddenly opened her eyes and smiled, then the thin lids fell. How she had wasted away! She tried to recount to herself all the kindnesses, the sacrifices Mrs. Boyd had made. And though the boarding house had been of the commonest sort there had never seemed any real pinches. She had even saved up money. It was the long illness and the changes incident to it that had not only reduced their little store, but broken her health and made her fearful of the future. She had taken up the sewing then. Four years there had been of that. Lilian remembered how proud she had been to enter the High School among the best scholars.

And some day she would teach. It was such a delightful vision. She studied other things beside the ordinary lessons. She loved to play and at times when she had turned her brain almost upside down she ran out and had a game of tag with the girls.

There were other evenings when she overcast long seams and pulled bastings, and the last year she had learned to sew on the machine. With scanty living and steady work, her mother had dropped down and down. But she was glad she had offered to go in the shop. When matters were a little easier she might try night school she had thought.

And this beautiful school was like an entrance into a land of romance. The luxurious living, at least it seemed so to her, would soon restore her mother's health. The duties were light. She had time for reading and oh, the lovely things! She did at times wish there had been some other position for her mother, like that of Miss Arran's. But she understood that Mrs. Boyd could not fill that. She lacked something, she had no real dignity, no self-assertion. She allowed the girls to order her, and Lilian wondered how these rich girls, who in some respects had polished manners, could be so ill bred. For somehow she understood the difference.

There were several with whom she might have been good friends, but she was too proud to step outside of what she considered her real station.

And now this wonderful event had come to her and she seemed to understand the thoughts and feelings that had been such a mystery. When she had been clasped to her true mother's heart, it appeared to her as if a veil had been drawn aside, and she had stepped into a larger room, replete with all she had vaguely dreamed about. That Crawford House was one of the fine old places, she knew, but she never thought of that luxurious living where all the tomorrows had been provided for. She would have gone to the simplest cottage for that mother's love.

Would Zaidee Crawford give her a sister's warm welcome? She would never grudge her anything money could buy; but she, Lilian, must seem like an interloper to them. And to share her mother's love with a stranger!

Miss Arran entered the room.

"You ought to go to bed, Miss Boyd. I will sit here and watch. Your mother seems asleep."

Lilian changed her dress for a comfortable wrapper, kissed her mother's forehead and pressed the cold hands. She did not stir; but then she had lain this way for hours at a time. The girl drew up her cot to the side of her mother's bed and laid down. The clocks all about were striking midnight.

It had not been so tranquil at Crawford House. Dinner had been rather quiet; no one seemingly to want to talk at any length. Afterward, Major Crawford had said--

"Let us all go up to mother's room. I have a singular explanation to make to you two children. Aunt Kate has known it these two days."

"There has seemed something mysterious in the air," exclaimed Willard, "only I am sure nothing worse has happened to mother. She looks so extraordinarily happy, and Zay is about again."

"We must go back to the time of the accident," began the Major. "We thought we had overlived the sorrow and we had never expected any joy for the outcome."

He paused to steady his voice, then began the story of the other woman, the only passenger who carried an infant, her hours of unconsciousness, her hearing the cry of the child and claiming it and then learning that the woman she believed its mother had been killed and full of pity for it, since her own had been mangled and carried away, resolved to take it and care for it. She left the next day--

"Oh, you don't mean she took our baby," cried Willard passionately, his eyes aflame.

"She took our baby. She has cared for it all these years through poverty and failing health and now that she is dying, she thought the child ought to know. They have been at Mrs. Barrington's since some time in August."

Zaidee sprang up, but her face was ghostly pale and there was a tremulous protest in her voice.

"Oh, it is that Mrs. Boyd, the caretaker and her daughter!" she exclaimed, drawing a long strangling breath full of protest.

"Our daughter," said her father with emphasis. Then he went on to relate how the matter had been brought to his notice and his unreasonable anger at first as he could not doubt the story vouched for by Doctor Kendricks, his interview with the child and Mrs. Barrington, Mrs. Crawford's visit to her yesterday.

"What a wonderful story!" Willard sprang up and began to pace the floor. "I suppose it _is_ true. That baby couldn't have died and she adopted another one."

"How do we know that she did not?" said Miss Crawford, protestingly.

"She was anxious that the girl in some manner might find her father's people. You see, she was sure the mother was dead. Oh, there is enough to convince you all. Dr. Kendricks and Mr. Ledwith have no doubt of the truth of her story. There is no scheme in it. And it was thought best, in her weakened state, not to try any explanations."

"It was nurse Jane who died, and the dead baby was buried with her. Ah, one glance at the girl would convince you," said the mother in the tenderest voice.

"But--why didn't she come here at once?"

"She was very noble about it. And this is another factor in the story. She would not leave the mother who had worked and toiled for her; so you see she was not tempted by the thought of advancement. She was afraid to believe the outcome of the story at first. Oh, I am proud of her, though at first I was really cruel. I wanted the woman punished."

"After all," said Willard, "if the baby had been friendless and an orphan it would have been very noble in her."

"You shall read her confession some day. It is pathetic. She thought she had lost her all and clung to the baby. Oh, we must all forgive her."

"And what do you mean to do?" asked Miss Crawford. "It is going to make a great stir for it cannot be kept a secret, and I hate gossip about families."

"Yes, the thing must be explained. I have given what of the story I want known to a reporter this afternoon. After the poor woman has gone, Marguerite will come here to her true home and life."

"Why, Zay, you must have known her at the school," said Willard. "It seems she was studying----"

"Oh, they are all on the other side away from the boarders. She was in the study room an hour in the evening, with the smaller girls. We were all at a different table that we had to ourselves. And--somehow, I never saw much of her. I didn't have to go to Mrs. Boyd for my mending."

Aunt Kate had put her arm about Zay at the beginning of the story. The mother noted with a pang that there was no real welcome in this daughter's face. Was it jealousy?

Willard stood between his parents and laid a hand on the shoulder of each.

"Oh," in a voice freighted with emotion. "I can't tell you how glad and thankful I am that this sorrow of years is to be turned into such a great all-pervading joy. We will be a perfect family again. Why, it will be the romance of our lives! It almost makes me wish I were not going away. And since you have seen her and are satisfied--mother----"

He stooped to kiss her.

"Oh," she returned, brokenly, "I want you all to love her, and be patient with Zay. She has always been first so long."

"I think if I was a girl I'd be wild to have a sister to tell things to--the little things a fellow tells his sweetheart, I suppose, when he has one," laughing. "Vin and I discuss our gettings along and our hopes and some funny scrapes that boys get into. But girls look at the romantic side. And you can't think--but _I'm_ proud of this romance. Why, it will be something to tell over to our children, and father's been a trump, but I think it's a good deal owing to you. Oh, I hope _she_ is like you."

The mother smiled as she kissed him.

Zay came to say good-night. Her face had grave lines that were not wont to be there.

"Oh, my darling," the mother said, "this is one of the things that cannot make any difference in our love for you. And if you could only understand the burthen it had lifted off my soul. A hundred times I have said: 'Oh, why did I take baby Marguerite on that journey?' She was so strong and well and I was so proud of her, I wanted your father to see her."

"And you will be proud of her again. She is going to be a fine scholar, and I'm just pretty to look at, that's all! I can't make myself love anyone all in a moment," and she gave a little sob.

"My child, the love will come if you do not steel your heart against it. Think, Zay, a twin sister----"

"But she is larger, different and a sort of story heroine. Everyone will be interested in her and I shall be pushed quite to the wall."

"Oh, Zay, you are a foolish little girl. But you have had all the admiration and love, and we must wait patiently until you understand that love can never be impoverished by giving. Think of this, pray for a generous heart, and let her love you."

Aunt Kate was waiting in her room. And Zay's overcharged heart gave way to a passion of weeping on the friendly bosom.

"Dear, I know how hard it is to be crowded out. Of course everyone will flock around her for a while and never having had much admiration she will be the more eager for it. And as will be perfectly natural when the first interest is worn off, the real grain will be apparent and I dare