CHAPTER XVI.--LOST.
Phil's mother was in every sense a weak woman. She was not strong enoughto be either very good or very bad; she had a certain amount of daring,but she had not sufficient courage to dare with success. She had a gooddeal of the stubbornness which sometimes accompanies weak characters,and when she deliberately set her heart on any given thing, she could beeven cruel in her endeavors to bring this thing to pass. Her husband andthe elder Rupert Lovel, of Belmont, near Melbourne, were brothers. Bothstrong and brave men, they had married differently. Rupert's wife had inall particulars been a helpmeet to him; she had brought up his childrento be brave and strong and honorable. She suffered much, for she was aconfirmed invalid for many years before her death; but her spirit was sostrong, so sweet, so noble, that not only her husband and children, butoutsiders--all, in fact, who knew her--leaned on her, asked eagerly forher counsel, and were invariably the better when they followed heradvice. Philip Lovel's wife was not a helpmeet to him; she was weak,exacting, jealous, and extravagant. She was the kind of woman whom astrong man out of his very pity would be good to, would pet and humoreven more than was good for her. Philip was killed suddenly in a railwayaccident, and his widow was left very desolate and very poor. Her boywas then five years old--a precocious little creature, who from themoment of his father's death took upon himself the no light office ofbeing his mother's comforter. He had a curious way even from the veryfirst of putting himself aside and considering her. Without being told,he would stop his noisy games at her approach and sit for an hour at atime with his little hand clasped in hers, while he leaned his softcheek against her gown and was happy in the knowledge that he affordedher consolation. To see him thus one would have supposed him almostdeficient in manly attributes; but this was not so. His gentleness andconsideration came of his strength; the child was as strong in mentalfiber as the mother was weak. In the company of his brave Cousin Rupertno merrier or gayer little fellow could have been found. His courage andpowers of endurance were simply marvelous. Poor little Phil! thatcourageous spirit of his was to be tested in no easy school. Soon afterhis sixth birthday those mysterious attacks of pain came on which thedoctor in Melbourne, without assigning any special cause for theiroccurrence, briefly spoke of as dangerous. Phil was eight years old whenhis mother's great temptation came to her. She saw an English newspaperwhich contained the advertisement for the Avonsyde heir. Her husband hadoften spoken to her about the old family place in the home country. Shehad loved to listen to his tales, handed down to him orally from hisancestors. She had sighed, and groaned too, over his narratives, and hadsaid openly that to be mistress of such an old ancestral home was herideal of paradise. Philip, a busy and active man, spent no time overvain regrets; practically he and his elder brother, Rupert, forgot theexistence of the English home.
Rupert had made a comfortable fortune for himself in the land of hisadoption, and Philip too would have been rich some day if he had lived.Mrs. Lovel, a discontented widow, saw the tempting advertisement, andquickly and desperately she made her plans. Her little son wasundoubtedly a lineal descendant of the disinherited Rupert Lovel, butalso, and alas! he was not strong. In body at least he was a fragile andmost delicate boy. Mrs. Lovel knew that if the ladies of Avonsyde oncesaw the beautiful and brave young Rupert, Phil's chance would benowhere. She trusted that Rupert Lovel the elder would not see theadvertisement. She sold her little cottage, realized all the money shecould, and without telling any one of her plans, started with her boyfor England. Before she left she did one thing more: she made a secretvisit to Belmont, and under the pretext of wishing to see hersister-in-law, sat with her while she slept, and during that sleepmanaged to abstract from the cupboard behind her bed the old silvertankard and a packet of valuable letters. These letters gave thenecessary evidence as to the genuineness of the boy's descent and thetankard spoke for itself.
Mrs. Lovel started for England, and during her long voyage she taughtPhil his lesson. He was to forget the past and he was to do his veryutmost to appear a strong boy. She arrived at Avonsyde, was kindlywelcomed, and day after day, month after month, her hopes grew great andher fears little. Phil played his part to perfection--so his mothersaid--not recognizing the fact that it was something in the boy himself,something quite beyond and apart from his physical strength, which threwa sweet glamour over those who were with him, causing them to forget theplainness of his face and see only the wonderful beauty of the soulwhich looked through the lovely eyes, causing them to cease to noticehow fragile was the little frame which yet was so lithe and active,causing them never to observe how tired those small feet grew, and yethow willingly they ran in grateful and affectionate service for each andall. Cold-hearted, cold-natured Miss Griselda was touched and softenedas she had never been before by any mortal. She scarcely cared to havethe boy out of her sight; she petted him much; she loved him well.
Mrs. Lovel hoped and longed. If once Rachel's birthday could be passed,all would be well. When the ladies appointed Phil as their heir, he wastheir heir forever. Surely nothing would occur to interfere with herdarling projects during the short period which must elapse between thepresent time and that eventful day two months hence.
As Mrs. Lovel grew more hopeful her manner lost much of its nervousaffectation. In no society could she appear as a well-educated andwell-read woman, but on the surface she was extremely good-natured, andin one particular she won on the old ladies of Avonsyde. She waspracticed in all the small arts of fancy needlework. She could knit; shecould crochet; she could tat; she could embroider conventional flowersin crewels. The Misses Lovel detested crewel-work, but Miss Katharinewas very fond of knitting and Miss Griselda affected to toleratecrochet. Each night, as the three ladies sat in the smaller of the largedrawing-rooms, the crochet and the knitting came into play; and whenMrs. Lovel ventured to instruct in new stitches and new patterns, shefound favor in the eyes of the two old ladies.
On the night of Phil's illness the poor woman sat down with an inwardgroan to give Miss Griselda her usual evening lesson. No one knew howher heart beat; no one knew how her pulse throbbed nor how wild were thefresh fears which were awakened within her. Suppose, after all, Philcould not keep up that semblance of strength to the end! Suppose anattack similar to the one he had gone through to-day should come on inMiss Griselda's presence. Then, indeed, all would be lost. Andsuppose--suppose that other thing happened: suppose Rupert Lovel with hisbrave young son should arrive at Avonsyde before the 5th of May. Mrs.Lovel could have torn her hair when Phil so quietly told her that he hadwritten to young Rupert, and that even now a reply might be waiting forhim at Southampton. She knew well that Rupert's father would rememberhow near Avonsyde was to Southampton. If the boy happened to show Phil'sletter to his father, all would be lost. Mrs. Lovel felt that she couldnot rest until she went to Southampton and secured the reply which mightbe waiting for Phil at the post-office. These anxious thoughts made herdistraite; and bravely as she wore her mask, one or two sighs did escapefrom her anxious breast.
"How silent you are!" suddenly exclaimed Miss Griselda in a snappishtone. "I have asked you the same question three times! Am I to crochettwelve or thirteen stitches of chain? Oh, you need not trouble toanswer; I am putting away my work now. The pattern is not working out atall properly. Perhaps you are anxious about Phil. If so, pray do not letme detain you. It is a great mistake to coddle children, but I suppose amother's foolishness must be excused."
"You quite mistake. I am not the least anxious," answered poor Mrs.Lovel, who was in reality on thorns. "I am so very sorry that I did nothear your question, dear Miss Griselda. The fact is, I have beenwondering if I might ask a little favor. I should like to go toSouthampton to-morrow morning. Can you spare the carriage to send me tothe railway station?"
Miss Griselda stared.
"Can I spare the carriage?" she repeated haughtily. "I was not awarethat you were a prisoner at Avonsyde, Mrs. Lovel. Of course you can goin or out as you please. Pray send your own orders to the sta
bles."
Mrs. Lovel was profuse in her thanks, Miss Griselda as cross andungracious as possible. The fact was the old lady was longing to payPhil a visit in his room, and would have done so had she not feared hismother accompanying her. The poor unhappy mother would have given worldsto be with her boy, but dreaded Miss Griselda's comments.
The next day, early, Mrs. Lovel went to Southampton, executed a fewcommissions in order to give color to her expedition, fetched Phil'sletter from the post-office, and returned home, burning with impatienceto read its contents. She would not have scrupled to open the envelopehad not Phil implored of her, just when she was starting on her journey,to let him have this pleasure himself.
Phil was much as usual the next morning, and he and Aunt Grizel andKitty had gone off on an expedition into the forest to look for mosses.When Mrs. Lovel got back the little party had not returned. She hadstill to control her impatience, and after taking a hurried lunch wentup to her tower bedroom. She laid the letter with the Australianpostmark on the writing-table and paced in a fever of anxiety up anddown the small room. Suddenly it occurred to her to beguile the slowmoments with some occupation. Why should she not open that trunk whichcontained old reminiscences and one or two articles of value? Why shouldshe not open it and put its contents in order, and take out the precioustankard and clean it? This task would give her occupation and cause theweary moments to pass quickly.
She stooped down and was startled to find that the key was in the lock.How very, very stupid of her to have left it there! When had she beenguilty of so dangerous a piece of negligence? With trembling fingers sheraised the lid of the trunk and began to search for the tankard. Ofcourse she could not find it. Suddenly she heard footsteps approachingand half-rose in an expectant attitude. Her little son came quickly in.
"Oh, mother, have you brought my letter?"
"Yes; it is on the table. Phil, there was a silver tankard in thistrunk, and I can't find it."
Phil had flown to his letter and was opening it eagerly.
"Phil, do you hear me? I can't find the silver tankard."
He went up at once to his mother.
"I beg your pardon, mother. I am so dying to see what Rupert says! Asilver tankard? Oh, yes; that old one they always had at Belmont; theone Gabrielle was so proud of. I did not know they had given it to you.Oh, mother, I am sorry. Do you know, I never thought of it until thisminute."
"Thought of what? Speak, child; don't keep me on thorns!"
"I found it, mother, and I took it out with me that day when I wasnearly drowned in the bog. I had it with me that day."
"Well, boy, well! Where is it now?"
"I don't know. I don't remember a single thing about it. I think I hadit with me in the bog. I'm almost sure I had, but I can't quiterecollect. Perhaps I dropped it in the bog. Mother, what is the matter?"
"Nothing, child. I could shake you, but I won't. This is terrible news.There! read your letter."
"Mother darling, let us read it together. Mother, I didn't know it waswrong. Kiss me, mammy, and don't look so white. Oh! I am almost toohappy. Mother, Rupert says when I am reading this he will be inEngland!"
"Then we are lost!" said Mrs. Lovel, pushing the slight little figureaway from her. "No, no, I scarcely love you at this moment. Don'tattempt to kiss me. We are utterly lost!"