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The Bell In The Fog
by
It was in the tenth month of this idyl of the lonely man and the lonely child that Mrs. Root flurriedly entered the library of Chillingsworth, where Orth happened to be alone.
“Oh, sir,” she exclaimed, “I must go home. My daughter Grace writes me–she should have done it before–that the boys are not behaving as well as they should–she didn’t tell me, as I was having such a good time she just hated to worry me–Heaven knows I’ve had enough worry–but now I must go–I just couldn’t stay–boys are an awful responsibility–girls ain’t a circumstance to them, although mine are a handful sometimes.”
Orth had written about too many women to interrupt the flow. He let her talk until she paused to recuperate her forces. Then he said quietly:
“I am sorry this has come so suddenly, for it forces me to broach a subject at once which I would rather have postponed until the idea had taken possession of you by degrees–“
“I know what it is you want to say, sir,” she broke in, “and I’ve reproached myself that I haven’t warned you before, but I didn’t like to be the one to speak first. You want Blanche–of course, I couldn’t help seeing that; but I can’t let her go, sir, indeed, I can’t.”
“Yes,” he said, firmly, “I want to adopt Blanche, and I hardly think you can refuse, for you must know how greatly it will be to her advantage. She is a wonderful child; you have never been blind to that; she should have every opportunity, not only of money, but of association. If I adopt her legally, I shall, of course, make her my heir, and–there is no reason why she should not grow up as great a lady as any in England.”
The poor woman turned white, and burst into tears. “I’ve sat up nights and nights, struggling,” she said, when she could speak. “That, and missing her. I couldn’t stand in her light, and I let her stay. I know I oughtn’t to, now–I mean, stand in her light–but, sir, she is dearer than all the others put together.”
“Then live here in England–at least, for some years longer. I will gladly relieve your children of your support, and you can see Blanche as often as you choose.”
“I can’t do that, sir. After all, she is only one, and there are six others. I can’t desert them. They all need me, if only to keep them together–three girls unmarried and out in the world, and three boys just a little inclined to be wild. There is another point, sir–I don’t exactly know how to say it.”
“Well?” asked Orth, kindly. This American woman thought him the ideal gentleman, although the mistress of the estate on which she visited called him a boor and a snob.
“It is–well–you must know–you can imagine–that her brothers and sisters just worship Blanche. They save their dimes to buy her everything she wants–or used to want. Heaven knows what will satisfy her now, although I can’t see that she’s one bit spoiled. But she’s just like a religion to them; they’re not much on church. I’ll tell you, sir, what I couldn’t say to any one else, not even to these relations who’ve been so kind to me–but there’s wildness, just a streak, in all my children, and I believe, I know, it’s Blanche that keeps them straight. My girls get bitter, sometimes; work all the week and little fun, not caring for common men and no chance to marry gentlemen; and sometimes they break out and talk dreadful; then, when they’re over it, they say they’ll live for Blanche–they’ve said it over and over, and they mean it. Every sacrifice they’ve made for her–and they’ve made many–has done them good. It isn’t that Blanche ever says a word of the preachy sort, or has anything of the Sunday-school child about her, or even tries to smooth them down when they’re excited. It’s just herself. The only thing she ever does is sometimes to draw herself up and look scornful, and that nearly kills them. Little as she is, they’re crazy about having her respect. I’ve grown superstitious about her. Until she came I used to get frightened, terribly, sometimes, and I believe she came for that. So–you see! I know Blanche is too fine for us and ought to have the best; but, then, they are to be considered, too. They have their rights, and they’ve got much more good than bad in them. I don’t know! I don’t know! It’s kept me awake many nights.”