A Girl in Ten Thousand by L. T. Meade (old books to read .TXT) 📖

When Effie had finished the many small duties which fell to her share in the household economy, she went up to her bedroom and hastily changed her everyday dress for her best one. She did not take long about this task. Her small face looked very pale and thin under the heavy crêpe on her hat. Taking up her gloves she ran down to the parlor where her mother 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, looking up as her daughter entered the room. "George will want a really warm greatcoat for the winter, and this one of your father's—why, Effie, my dear——" She stopped abruptly, and gazed up at Effie's best hat. "Where are you going, my love?" she said. "I thought you could help me this morning."

"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 are you going there?" she asked, after a pause.

"I want to see them—I won't be long away. Please, mother, don't tire yourself over all that mending now."

"It interests me, my dear; I find it impossible to sit with my hands before me. I am stronger than89 I used to be. I have got to live for George; and George is young, he is entering life, he must not be saddled with an old, ailing mother. I must get strong, I must get back my youth for his sake. Don't be long away, Effie, dear. I wonder you like to go to the Harveys' under the circumstances, but you know best. Children are very independent nowadays," concluded Mrs. Staunton, with a sigh.

Effie went up to her mother and kissed her, then she softly left the room.

The day was a particularly fine one, the sun shone brightly upon the little High Street. Effie walked quickly; she soon turned into a shady lane, the lane led her into the highroad. By and by she stopped at the gates of The Grange.

The woman of the lodge came out when she saw her. This woman had been fond of Dr. Staunton, and she recognized Effie.

Effie's little figure, her heavy black dress, her crêpe hat, her white cheeks and dark eyes, all appealed with great pathos to the woman. She ran towards her with outstretched hands.

"Miss Effie, my dear, you're welcome," she said. She caught Effie's little white hands in her hard, toil-worn ones. "You are welcome, Miss Effie," she repeated; "it is good of you to come. Eh, dear, but it goes to the heart to see you in that deep black! Come in and rest, my dear young lady—come in and rest."

"I cannot just now, Mrs. Jones," replied Effie. "I am in a hurry—I want to 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."90

"Eh, do! you'll be more than welcome. I long to hear all about the doctor, poor man, and how he went off at the end. The last words of the pious 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 look of curiosity were dreadful to her; nevertheless, she knew that her father, under similar circumstances, would have been very patient with this woman.

By and by she arrived at the heavy front door of the old Grange. She walked up the steps and rang the bell.

The door was opened almost immediately by a servant in livery. He knew Effie, 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 go to ask?"

The man opened the door of a little sitting room. Effie went in, and he closed it softly behind him.

After what seemed a very short time, she heard eager steps coming along the hall—the room door was flung open, and Squire Harvey, accompanied by his wife, came in.

Mrs. Harvey looked like a shadow—but her sweet face had a tender blush-rose color about it, her eyes had the intensely clear look which long illness gives; she was better, but she looked so frail and delicate that Effie's heart went out to her.

"My dear child," said Mrs. Harvey, "how good, how very good of you to come! I am only just downstairs. Dr. Edwards only allowed me down yesterday, but I could not resist coming to welcome you myself. Won't you come into my sitting room?91 It is just at the opposite side of the hall. I'll send Rhoda upstairs to fetch little Freda. She will be so enraptured at seeing you. Come, my dear. Now that we have got you, we won't let you go in a hurry. I think it so sweet of you to come to see us, 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 noticed how white Effie's face grew; he noticed the pathetic trembling of her hands.

"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 stay while 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 for us."

"Please don't talk of it now," said Effie. "I mean—I know how kindly you feel, and indeed I am not ungrateful, but I cannot bear to talk it over, 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," called Mrs. Harvey after him. "I'll send for Freda to my boudoir. Miss Staunton must stay to lunch. It is delightful to see her again, and it is so sweet of her to come to see us."

The thin, high voice kept calling these words out a little louder and a little louder as Effie followed92 the Squire down one long corridor after another, 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 own time. I have nothing whatever to do—I can listen to you as long as ever you like."

Poor Effie found great difficulty in using her voice. For one dreadful moment words seemed to fail her altogether. Then she gave a swift thought to her mother, to George, and her resolve was taken.

"I want to make a very queer request of you, Mr. Harvey," she said.