CHAPTER III
WHAT HAPPENED IN ROOM FORTY-SEVEN
As the last period of study drew to an end on Tuesday afternoon, thehearts of the four girl chums beat a trifle faster than usual. What ifafter all their conjectures were to prove erroneous, and Mabel Allisonwas not the long-lost daughter of the woman in the hospital? All theyhad to go by was the remarkable resemblance between the two, and theslight emotion displayed by Mrs. Allison at the mention of Mabel's name.
When Grace had repeated the details of their call at the hospital toJessica, the latter had turned very white, but had said bravely, "Iexpected it. We will go with you on Tuesday. Shall I prepare Mabel forit?"
"No," Grace had replied. "We may find ourselves mistaken, and think whata cruel disappointment it would be to Mabel. I don't mean by thatJessica, that Mabel is anxious to leave you, but you know perfectly wellthat the desire of Mabel's life is that she may some day find herparents."
In almost utter silence the four chums, accompanied by Mabel Allison,crossed the campus and turned into High School Street at the close ofthe afternoon session on Tuesday. Each girl seemed busy with her ownthoughts.
"What has come over you girls?" inquired Mabel curiously. "When four ofthe liveliest girls in school become mum as the proverbial oyster,surely something is going to happen."
"'Coming events cast their shadows before'" said Anne half dreamily.
"Well, I wish they'd stop casting shadows over my little playmatesthen," laughed Mabel.
At this remark Grace made an effort to appear unconcerned.
"Are you going to play on the junior basketball team this year, Mabel?"she asked, by way of changing the subject.
"I don't know," replied Mabel. "I feel as though I ought to study everyminute I am in High School, in order to be more thoroughly capable ofearning my own living. I don't expect to be forever dependent upon myfriends."
"Dependent, indeed," sniffed Jessica. "You know perfectly well, you badchild, that papa and I have been the gainers since you came to us, andnow--" she stopped just in time.
"'And now,' what?" asked Mabel.
"Here we are at the hospital," broke in Nora without giving Jessica timeto answer.
The little party waited what seemed to them an interminable length oftime; although it was in reality not more than five minutes before theattendant returned with the news that they might see the patient in 47.
Grace had purposely voiced their request in so low a tone that Mabel hadnot heard her mention the patient's name, and she accompanied the fourgirls without the faintest idea of what their call might mean to her.
"Now for it," breathed Grace, as they paused at the door of 47.
"Come in," said a sweet voice, in answer to the attendant's knock, andthe five girls were ushered into Mrs. Allison's presence.
"How are my young friends, to-day!" she cried gayly, rising from theeasy chair in which she was sitting and coming forward without-stretched hands.
"Very well, indeed," replied Grace, Anne and Nora in a breath as theyshook hands.
"Mrs. Allison," said Grace hurriedly, "these are my friends, MissJessica Bright and Miss Mabel Allison."
The woman who was in the act of acknowledging the introduction toJessica started violently when Grace pronounced Mabel's name, droppedJessica's hand and began to tremble as she caught sight of Mabel, whostood behind Jessica, an expression of amazement in her brown eyes, thatthe patient's name should be the same as her own.
"Who--who--" gasped the woman, pointing at Mabel, then overcome sankinto her chair, covering her face with her hands.
Grace sprang to her side in an instant, kneeling beside her chair.
"Mrs. Allison," she cried impulsively. "Forgive me. I should not havestartled you so. I did not really know, although I felt sure that--"
But Mrs. Allison had uncovered her face and was looking eagerly atMabel, who stood the picture of mystification.
"Who is that young girl who bears the name of my baby, and where did shecome from?" asked the patient hoarsely.
"Speak to her," whispered Jessica, pushing Mabel forward.
"I am Mabel Isabel Allison--" began Mabel, but before she could proceedfurther the woman had risen, and clasping the girl in her arms, begansmoothing her hair and kissing her, laughing and crying hysterically."You are my baby girl that I lost long ago, my own little Mabel. I knowit. I know it."
"Mrs. Allison," said Grace firmly, placing her arm around the sobbingwoman, who seemed to have entirely lost control of her emotions, "tryand be calm. There is so much to tell. Will you listen to me? And youmust sit down, you were not strong enough for this. We should havewaited."
Mrs. Allison partially released Mabel from her embrace, though she stillheld her hand, and allowed Grace to gently push her back toward herchair.
"I don't quite understand you, my dear," she said brokenly. "But I amsure that I have found my own dear little child."
"And I am sure of it, too," replied Grace. "In fact, we have suspectedit since the day we first saw you at the station. We noticed the markedresemblance between you and Mabel, and when you told us your name wasAllison we all felt that you might be Mabel's mother. Do you feel strongenough to hear our story and to tell us yours?"
"Tell me quickly," exclaimed Mrs. Allison eagerly, recovering in ameasure from her violent agitation. "I must know the truth. It seemsincredible that I should find my lost baby girl alive and in good hands.I am surely dreaming. It cannot be true. Yet she has the same sweet,serious expression in her brown eyes that she had in babyhood. Even hermiddle name, Isabel, that her father insisted upon giving her because itis mine!"
Anne, dreading another outbreak, gently interposed. "Try and be calm,Mrs. Allison, while we tell you about Mabel."
Then Anne began with the winning of the freshman prize by Mabel at theclose of her freshman year, and the interest she had aroused in the girlchums, and followed with the story of her adoption by the Phi Sigma Tau.
Mrs. Allison listened in rapt attention until Anne had finished. "God isgood," she murmured. "A higher power surely willed that Mabel shouldfind true and worthy friends."
Then she began questioning Mabel about her life in the orphanage. DidMabel have any recollection of the day she was brought there? Had MaryStevens, the attendant, ever described the clothing that she had wornwhen found?
"I have the baby pins I wore with me. Jessica asked me to wear themto-day," replied Mabel, who looked like a person just awakened from adeep sleep. She had not yet reached a full comprehension of what it allmeant.
"Let me see them," cried Mrs. Allison.
Mabel mechanically detached one of the little gold pins from her collarand handed it to Mrs. Allison, who examined it closely for a moment,then dropping it with a little cry, again clasped Mabel in her arms.
"They are the pins I had specially made and engraved for you," she said."There is no longer any doubt. You are my lost child."
At these words a light of complete understanding seemed to dawn uponMabel, and with a cry of rapture she wound her arms about her mother'sneck.
It was a joyful, though rather a trying moment for the four chums, whowere seized with a hysterical desire to laugh and cry in the samebreath. Grace made a slight motion toward the door, which her friendswere not slow to comprehend. It was her intention to slip quietly awayand leave the mother and daughter alone with their new-found happiness.
Before she could put her plan into execution, however, Mrs. Allisondivined her intention and turning quickly toward her, said, "Don't go,Grace. I feel as though you girls belonged to me, too. Besides, you havenot heard my part of this story yet."
"Perhaps you are hardly strong enough to tell us after so muchexcitement," deprecated Grace.
"My dear, I feel as though I had just begun to live," answered Mrs.Allison. "The past has been one long dreary blank. If you only knew theyears of agony I have passed through. When you hear my story you willunderstand why this reunion is little short of miraculous.
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bsp; "My home is in Denver. Mabel was born there," continued Mrs. Allison."Fourteen years ago this summer my husband and I decided to spend thesummer in Europe, taking with us our baby daughter, Mabel, and hernurse.
"On the morning that we were to sail, circumstances arose that made itnecessary for my husband and myself to be in New York until almostsailing time. He therefore sent the nurse, a French woman, who wasthoroughly familiar with the city, on ahead to the vessel, with Mabel inher care. We had barely time to catch the boat and were met by thenurse, who said that she had left Mabel asleep in one of the state roomsengaged for us. It was not until we had put out to sea that wediscovered that Mabel was missing, and a thorough search of the ship wasat once made. The nurse persisted in her statement that Mabel wentaboard with her. Every nook and cranny of the ship was overhauled, butmy child could not be found, and the supposition was that she had insome way fallen overboard.
"I was distracted with grief, and nearly lost my reason, and when wereached the other side I passed into a long illness. It was many weeksbefore I returned to consciousness of my affairs, and the terriblerealization that my baby was gone forever. I felt as though I could notface the future without her. I had scarcely recovered from the firstshock attending my great loss, when my husband contracted typhoid feverand died after an illness of five weeks.
"We were in Florence, Italy, at the time and I prayed that I might die,too. It was during those dark hours that Mrs. Gibson proved herfriendship for me. She sailed for Italy the instant she received thecablegram announcing my husband's death, and brought me back to Americawith her. I spent a year with her in her New York home, before returningto Denver. Since then I have never been east until this summer.
"Four months ago I received a letter from the nurse who had charge ofMabel on the day of her disappearance. It was a great surprise to me, asshe had left us directly after we landed with the intention of returningto France. But the news the letter contained was a far greater surprise,for she stated that Mabel had never gone aboard the vessel.
"The nurse had had some personal business to attend to before goingaboard, and in order to save time had taken Mabel with her. In someinexplicable manner Mabel had strayed from her side. She had madefrantic search for the child and finally, not daring to go to us withthe truth, had conceived the idea of making us believe that she hadtaken Mabel aboard the ship. She had bribed the purser, a Frenchman whomshe knew, to corroborate her story, and had succeeded in her treacherousdesign.
"She wrote that she had longed over and over again to confess the truth,but had not dared to do so. She had heart trouble, she said, and herdays were numbered. Therefore she felt that she must confess the truthbefore it became too late.
"You can imagine," said Mrs. Allison, "the effect this letter had uponme. For fourteen years I had mourned my child as dead. It seemedinfinitely worse to hear that she had not died then, but was perhapsalive, and in what circumstances?
"The day I received the letter I took the train for the east, wiring theGibsons to meet me, and aided by them engaged the best detective serviceupon the case. There was little or nothing to furnish us with a clue,for the nurse's lying statement had misled us; we were out at sea beforewe knew positively that Mabel had disappeared, and my long illness inEurope, followed by my husband's death kept me from instituting athorough search of New York City.
"I was bound for New York in answer to a summons from the men engaged onthe case, when this accident occurred. Mr. Gibson had offered to makethe journey for me, but I felt that I alone must hear the firstnews--and to think that through that blessed accident I stumbled upon mylittle girl." She ceased speaking and with streaming eyes again claspedMabel in a fond embrace.
The chums found their own eyes wet, during this recital, but of thefour, Jessica appeared to be the most deeply moved. Mabel had meant moreto her than to the others, and she found herself facing the severesttrial that had so far entered her young life. She drew a deep breath,then went bravely over to Mrs. Allison, saying with quivering lips:
"It is very, very hard to give Mabel up. She is the child of oursorority, but she belongs most of all to me. She is the dearest girlimaginable, and neither hardship nor poverty have marred her. She issweet, unselfish and wholesome, and always will be. I am glad, glad,glad that her dream has at last been realized, and I should be the mostselfish girl in the world if I didn't rejoice at her good fortune."
She smiled through her tears at Mabel, who rushed over to her andexclaimed:
"Jessica, dearest, you know perfectly well how much I do and alwaysshall love you, and Grace and Anne and Nora, too."
The four girls lingered a few moments, then said good-bye to Mrs.Allison and Mabel, who was to remain for the present with her mother.She kissed her friends tenderly, promising to see them the next day.
"I'll be in school to-morrow unless mother needs me here," she said withsuch a world of fond pride in her voice that the girls who had sowillingly befriended her felt that their loss was a matter of smallconsequence when compared with the glorious fact that Mabel had comeinto her own.