CHAPTER XXXVII.
A NEW THOUGHT.
IT was by the first post that Rose received a letter from her husband appointing to be with her at ten o'clock, bringing an easy carriage for their darling.
The whole household could think of nothing else, and now Randall's dainty clothes, which he had grown out of a year or two back, were brought out, and Lester was taken from the bed and carefully dressed in them.
Mrs. Leigh sat with him on her lap, her face very white and quiet, as each fresh thing done for her child made her realize more fully all he had lost.
He passively suffered them to do what they would with him. But by the time the little outside coat had been buttoned up, his head dropped on his mother's shoulder, and he was tired out.
Rose looked up at nurse beseechingly. "Ought I to have dressed him?" she asked anxiously.
"It is hard to say, ma'am," nurse answered, "but another time I would not trouble about these last things, a shawl over all would have done as well."
Then came the carriage, and Mr. Leigh was shut up in the dining-room with Mrs. Shaddock and Rose for what seemed a very long time, while Gertrude waited rather breathlessly up-stairs with the drooping child.
At last they came out, Mrs. Shaddock wiping her eyes, and Mr. and Mrs. Leigh hastening up the stairs to where Gertrude sat, holding little Lester on her knee.
In a moment more the young father came down carrying the little invalid, Rose and Gertrude following.
"I can never, never thank you," said Rose, taking Mrs. Shaddock's hand. "Some day I hope we may come back and be able to do so better than to-day!"
She nearly broke down, but, struggling for calmness, she bade a hasty adieu to the rest, and quickly got to the carriage, where already Fritz was seated.
Gertrude went to the carriage-door, and kissed her sister through the open window.
"Oh, how I wish you were going with me!" said Rose regretfully.
"I could not, dearest; they have been so kind already. We shall meet this afternoon."
"Yes, yes; good-bye till then."
The carriage moved away, and Gertrude turned back to the house, wishing intensely that she could have gone to the physician's with them.
Daisy and Mollie were waiting for her in the hall.
"Miss Ashlyn, do tell us what makes mother cry. Does the physician give any hope? Mother does nothing but cry."
"Go up-stairs, dears," answered Gertrude; "I will follow you in a moment. I expect your mother is rather upset with it all."
She really felt great compunction when she saw Mrs. Shaddock sitting with her face buried in her hands.
She advanced to her side and sat down by her, quietly drawing her white shawl over her shoulders, and said, in a soothing, comforting tone—
"They got off very comfortably, thanks to all your kindness, dear Mrs. Shaddock. I hope that I may bring you a better account this evening."
"Oh, that poor little mother's face!" said Mrs. Shaddock.
"Rose?" questioned Gertrude.
"Yes—if you could have seen her face when her husband was telling her what Dr. Blank said."
"Did he give any opinion?" asked Gertrude eagerly.
"Not on this case, of course," said Mrs. Shaddock, looking up, "but he gave a hope."
Gertrude did not reply; this was almost more than she had dared to expect.
"I could have wished that they might return here," Mrs. Shaddock went on, "but I can see that the distance is great, and that it will be well to be near Dr. Blank while things are not quite decided."
Gertrude expressed again her earnest thanks for their hospitality, and then proposed that she should seek her pupils, and take up the lessons which had been so interrupted.
"Do not worry over that," said Mrs. Shaddock; "their father says all this is the best education they could have."
"Does he?" said Gertrude. "How very kind, and what a nice thought!"
She had risen to go to her pupils, but Mrs. Shaddock seemed as if she could not bear to let her go.
"Miss Ashlyn—my dear—your sister. I cannot forget your sister."
"She will be better when all this is settled," said Gertrude consolingly.
"Better?" echoed Mrs. Shaddock. "She could hardly be better! Her patience, her resignation, her trust—I never saw anything like it."
"Yes, indeed it is," answered Gertrude heartily.
She had become so accustomed to Rose's beautiful character that she had hardly noticed it.
"You found me very upset," Mrs. Shaddock went on hesitatingly, and yet as if she must say it, "but she said something as we sat together last night, which made me feel different from anything I have ever felt before."
Gertrude looked inquiringly at her.
"I had just said to her, 'I never saw any one bear a trial such as this so bravely; I suppose you would say it is religion helps you, but I do not understand it.' And she answered, with such an earnest look, 'Mrs. Shaddock, it is not 'religion,' it is just Jesus! He is everything to me—everything!'"
"What Rose said is the truth," answered Gertrude softly. "She would not have said it unless she had known it was true."
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
IN THE MUSEUM.
"AH! Here you are!" said Otto.
There were Hugh, Daisy, and Randall, all eagerly peeping out of the train at Kensington.
"Here is Mr. Leigh," exclaimed Randall, turning round to Gertrude. "You see he did not keep us waiting, did he?"
This referred to a discussion Hugh and Daisy had carried on during the short journey, as to who would be at Kensington first.
Otto helped them out of the carriage, and then pointed to the way out, telling the children not to get too far in front.
"Randall, my dear, keep near me," said Gertrude; "you are 'mother's baby,' and must be taken care of!"
She said it with a playful smile, but Randall did not respond pleasantly.
"I can take care of myself," he said, with a shrug. "I don't want to be tied to girls' aprons!"
He walked, however, just in front of her, close to the heels of his brother and sister, Otto and Gertrude bringing up the rear.
"I will not tell you till we get out of these noisy streets," said Otto, "but I feel as if I had so many things to say, that I hardly know where to begin!"
"I must not ask, then, whether they are back from Dr. Blank's?"
"You may ask," he said, smiling, "but I shall not answer."
"Then I had better not put the question," laughed Gertrude. "You are, however, cheerful to-day, Otto!"
"That is because I am so glad to see you."
"Are you? So am I glad, Otto. I never prized friends so much before."
He had glanced up eagerly at the beginning of her answer, but as her voice took a more formal tone at the end, his eyes went back to the contemplation of the busy traffic.
"I should be sorry to live in London," he said quietly.
"So should I, unless—"
"Unless?" he asked, rather eagerly.
"Unless those I loved had to live here; of course that makes such a difference."
"Yes," he said.
They came now to the Museum, and here the children turned to them, asking what they were to see first, and which way was it to go?
They were all so inexperienced that Otto told them they had better walk straight on for a little while, keeping their eyes open meanwhile.
"Above all things, do not let us get separated," said Gertrude. "Keep close to us, Hugh and Daisy. Will Randall like to be with you or with me?"
"We will take him," said Daisy.
"Yes, I'll go with them," said Randall.
They soon came to the large Hall, and here Otto proposed to sit down, while the children walked about examining the various objects of interest.
He found a seat for Gertrude, and when some one moved away, he sat down beside her.
"May I ask now?" she said. "Oh, Otto, do tell me!"
"They have been, Gertrude! Dr. Blank has examined little Lester thoroughly."
"And he says—"
"That time, and care, and love 'may' restore him."
"Oh, Otto! How thankful I am."
"He says that one-room-business of Mrs. Swift's would soon have finished the story. But now, he hopes with plenty of sunshine, and sea air, and patience—Gertrude, he says he will need infinite patience."
"Rose can give that."
"Yes, no one better, unless it were you."
"I? I should not be half as patient as Rose! Besides, she is his mother."
"Oh, yes; that makes a great difference, of course."
"Are they going home?"
"Not for a few days."
Gertrude sighed with relief. Then she might see Rose once more perhaps.
"You are not happy here, Gertrude, are you?" asked Otto, suddenly turning and looking her in the face.
"I was, oh, as happy as I could be away from you all, till this about Lester happened. That has unsettled me, I think. Why do you ask, Otto? I do not look unhappy, do I?"
"You look different," he said consideringly. "Yes, as I thought, not so happy."
"I shall feel all right again directly all this is settled, Otto. You can hardly believe all I have gone through."
He was silent, his eyes following the three children as they slowly walked round the large room, coming nearer and nearer.
"It is hard sometimes to square one's wishes with one's possibilities," he said at length.
"Very," she answered; "that is where discipline comes in, Otto. Like my text this morning, 'Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?'"
"Was that your text, dear Gertrude? What did you answer?"
"I asked that whatever He pointed out for me to do, I might do willingly."
"Ah! That speaks to me."
"Does it not speak to all of us?"
The children had reached them now.
"May we go into the next room?" asked Randall.
"We will come too," said Gertrude, rising.
"There's no need," said Randall, "but you can do as you like, Miss Ashlyn. I wish Mr. Leigh would come and explain this old furniture to us."
"So I will," said Otto readily. "Gertrude, sit still and rest till I come back."
He went off with them. And Gertrude sat down again and thought over the conversation which had just passed, wondering at Otto's manner, which had constraint in it which she had not remembered at home.
Then once more, she thought of her text as settling all wonderings, and giving quiet and peace in the midst of every circumstance.
"Lord, what wilt 'Thou' have me to do?" And in that will and that Lord, she took refuge and found her rest.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
HIDING.
THE time seemed to her rather long before she saw Otto's thin face coming back through the doorway.
He was closely followed by Daisy and Hugh, and came up to her at once, surprise in his tone as he inquired—
"Where is Randall? Is he not with you?"
"With me?" echoed Gertrude, starting up. "No, he has not been with me at all. He went off with you, Otto."
"He was with me, but he asked if he might find you. And I brought him to the doorway and pointed you out, and left him. How very strange!"
"I did not see either of you," said Gertrude, looking alarmed.
"No—you were deeply meditating, and did not look up. Do not worry yourself, he'll be all right. Boys don't get run off with every—" He stopped short. He had touched too near home to their recent sorrow about Lester, to bear it yet.
"At any rate," he added hastily, "he will be all safe. We must go and look for him."
They quickly arranged a meeting-place, and Gertrude took Daisy with her, while Hugh volunteered to go with Mr. Leigh.
But they wandered through the rooms, one after another, searching in every part fruitlessly, till they were utterly weary and footsore.
Again and again they met, only to acknowledge that their search had been in vain.
At length it grew dusk, and the Museum began to thin. People were leaving for their homes before the fresh accession would come in with the lights.
Gertrude was worn out. She felt as if her feet would not carry her another step.
"Did you ever know of his doing such a thing before?" she asked Daisy, as she sank on to a seat for an instant.
"No—never," said poor Daisy, who could hardly keep back her tears. "He said this morning, 'I'm going to have a lark to-day, Daisy,' but I thought he meant coming to the Museum."
"He meant to play us a trick," said Hugh decidedly; "at least I think so—he did say—don't you remember, Daisy?—that he would do something that really would tease Miss Ashlyn."
Gertrude felt herself get hot from head to foot.
"How can we go home and tell your mother?" she said piteously. "It is too dreadful. Otto, you have asked all the men at the doors to keep any little boy—"
"Certainly I have. Not one has noticed such a child pass."
"It makes it worse to think he could have been so cruel as to play such a trick," said Gertrude. "We must stay here, Otto, till the place shuts, and you must go home and tell Mrs. Shaddock. It is too dreadful—"
"Come, do not give up," said Otto cheerily, though he little liked the errand on which he was sent. "If Randall has done it for a trick, he will probably turn up all right. Anyway fretting will not mend it. He has had his wish and spoilt our day!"
He left them regretfully, and made his way with all speed to Hampstead.
It was, however, nearly an hour before he reached the Shaddocks' comfortable home.
To picture the dismay which spread through the house at his story would be impossible. Mrs. Shaddock gave up her darling for lost. And Mr. Shaddock, between indignation and real apprehension, hardly knew what he was doing.
He set off at once with Otto, feeling as if trains were a slow mode of travelling, when the heart had reached the end of the journey before the whistle had more than sounded!
Hurriedly they retraced their steps through the warm and crowded rooms, till they reached the one where Otto had left Gertrude.
There, in front of the anxious father's eyes, sat the group he had come to seek, Randall in the middle of them looking flushed and sullen, the rest white and weary.
"You have found him?" asked Mr. Shaddock.
"Where? How?"
Gertrude looked up, her eyes tearful, her lips trembling.
"We cannot well explain it here," she said in a low voice. "He came to us of his own accord. I believe he is beginning to be sorry."
"Beginning to be sorry?" echoed Mr. Shaddock.
"What can you mean?"
He took Randall's hand in his, and turned towards the door.
"How is this, my boy?"
"They left me alone—I got lost," said Randall, whimpering.
Hugh had joined his father on the other side, and heard the last words.
"Father!" he began urgently.
"Hush—I will hear all about it at home."
Mr. Shaddock hurried them into the train, Gertrude and Otto following.
"He thinks we carelessly let him get lost," said Gertrude. "What shall we do?"
"Stick to the truth," said Otto. "How did you find him, Gertrude, after all?"
"He was hiding somewhere," said Gertrude in a low voice. "Just before the place was lighted up, not long after you had gone, he sauntered up with his hands in his pockets and asked how we were getting on."
"What did you do?" asked Otto, almost too astonished to speak.
"I asked him where he had been, and told him what a fright he had given us all, and was just bidding him to sit down by me, when he gave a strange little glance at Hugh—gone in a moment—and then sat down by me, pushing his hand away from mine. Then I guessed that it was a trick."
"Shameful!" said Otto indignantly.
"It breaks my heart that he could—" said poor Gertrude.
CHAPTER XL.
RANDALL'S MISCHIEF.
THE trains were crowded, so that in the bustle of getting a seat at all, Otto found himself almost pushed by the guard into a carriage where were Gertrude, Hugh, and Daisy, while Mr. Shaddock and Randall found room in a compartment farther down the train.
"It was not my fault, one bit," Randall began, when they were off. "They ought not to have left me."
Though Mr. Shaddock had not intended to discuss the subject with his little son, he was taken off his guard by the last words, and asked—
"Who?"
"Mr. Leigh and Miss Ashlyn."
"Left you, how?"
"Mr. Leigh said I could easily find her, and I went where he said, and she was not there. Then I got lost."
"Why did you not speak to a policeman? You have always been told to do that. You would have saved us all this fright if you had."
"I did not think of that," said Randall.
Mr. Shaddock was looking out of the window in anxious thought.
"Hugh always tries to get me into trouble—" began Randall, "and so does Miss Ashlyn."
"Nonsense!" said his father.
"I wish I hadn't gone with them," pouted Randall. "I haven't had any tea, and I am as tired as anything, hunting everywhere for them."
"Well, you had better keep quiet now," said his father. "I do not understand it. But I dare say we shall hear it explained when they tell me all about it. How you can have escaped meeting all these hours I cannot conceive."
Randall did not reply to that.
And by and by the journey was over, and they got out of the train and walked up the hill under the starry sky.
"When do you leave London?" asked Gertrude of Otto. She felt as if she knew nothing of his plans; for they had been separated at different ends of the railway carriage, and the search for Randall had taken up all the rest of the day.
"That is not decided. I had much to tell you, but there is hardly time to even begin it! Gertrude, Dr. Blank asked me a number of questions about myself and my future."
Gertrude felt startled. Again came that strange tone of constraint into Otto's voice.
"He was interested in you?" she asked falteringly. She hardly knew what to say, or how to question him, unless he wished to tell her. Did he wish to tell her? That was what she asked herself.
"I think he was, though why I cannot imagine. I told him of my long struggle with my medical studies, and what exams I had passed, and so forth, and then he told me a sea voyage would do me a world of good!"
"A sea voyage!" echoed Gertrude.
"Miss Ashlyn," said Hugh, turning back from where he was walking with his father, "I wish you would tell me about those constellations again."
"Never mind now," said Mr. Shaddock, "let Miss Ashlyn have a moment's peace. The constellations will keep, that's one good thing."
Hugh did not press the matter further, but contented himself with going back to Daisy and pointing out to her the Great Bear and the "Pointers," which was the greatest astronomical achievement of which he could boast at present.
Gertrude had echoed Otto's words, "a sea voyage," but the announcement seemed in some inexplicable manner to darken her life, and make everything dreary. She managed, however, to force herself to say, "And you are going—you think it necessary?"
"Yes, not so much for my health, though that has not been very good lately, but for my prospects—"
"Will that improve them? Otto, you are holding something back; you have some news you do not like to tell me."
Otto did not reply to that. But after a moment he added, "Dr. Blank has taken a sort of liking to me. I think he will try to push me on in my profession."
Gertrude could not ask her question again, but she felt hopelessly that they were nearing their destination, and then Otto would say good-bye, and their day would be over.
"Gertrude, I have promised to go for this voyage if—if you do not object."
"I?" said Gertrude.
"It is to accompany a patient of his, who needs care and supervision. It will be for a year."
"And then?"
"Then I shall come home!"
Oh, the rest that seemed to come into his voice as he said that! They had reached the turning to the Shaddocks' house. Still Gertrude knew that Otto was withholding some of his thoughts. How could she bear to part from her friend thus? She thought of their friendship at home, of all his brotherliness, of their constant interchange of thoughts and ideas, and she felt it very hard to be constrained just as they must part.
"I am going to see Dr. Blank again to-morrow, and shall have a long talk with him. He has asked me to spend Sunday at his country house. After that I shall see you again, and tell you all."
"You will tell me all?" asked Gertrude, in a relieved tone.
"All—both bad and good. I might have done so to-day, but for this child's doings. That has spoilt everything. Gertrude, you did not answer me? Shall I go for the voyage?"
"Am I to be the arbiter of your fate?"
He smiled a sunny smile, while Gertrude could have cried.
"Ah, our future is in Better Hands," he answered gently, "but if you thought I ought not to go, for any reason, I will not go."
"I know of no reason; if it will do your health good, it would be everything you could wish!"
They had reached the steps. Already Mr. Shaddock had let himself in, and Hugh was holding the door open for them.
"Now for Randall's mischief!" said Otto.
CHAPTER XLI.
TWO SIDES OF A STORY.
WHEN they entered, Randall was already in his mother's arms, and Mrs. Shaddock was pouring out questions and condolences as fast as she could speak. Her 'at home' day had come to an unpleasant end, as she had felt too ill and pre-occupied to enjoy her guests.
"However was it?" she was asking him.
"Mr. Leigh and Miss Ashlyn were talking and I got lost," was his response.
"They were not!" exclaimed Daisy, following him into the drawing-room. "Mollie, don't let mother think so—"
Mollie shrugged her shoulders. "I do think it was awfully careless," she said, "and has given mother a dreadful fright!"
"He gave us a worse one," answered Daisy indignantly, "but Miss Ashlyn will explain all about it."
"I don't care about explanations," said Mollie. "I should have thought between you, you could have looked after Randall. You know how things upset mother."
Gertrude and Otto had spoken to Mr. Shaddock in the hall, and then Otto bade Gertrude farewell and went to the door.
"I wish you could stay to see me through with this," she said with her hand on the latch, and her eyes raised to his.
"I wish I could—but I am not asked—"
"No, we are in disgrace," she said, "and that is very hard."
"It will come out all right in the end. I must go, but I would give anything to stay—"
And then she opened the door, and his light feet sprang down the steps, and he was gone.
She went slowly into the dining-room, feeling as if she could not bring her mind down to Randall and his doings.
Otto had looked as white as a sheet, and had eaten nothing since an early lunch; how could she have let him go like that?
Mr. Shaddock came in almost at once.
"Where is Mr. Leigh?"
"He is gone."
"Gone! Why did you let him go? I expected him to have supper, or whatever meal it is. Have you had anything to eat?"
"I bought some buns—"
"Buns?" echoed Mr. Shaddock disdainfully. "Could you get no tea?"
"I was afraid to spend any time over that. We did nothing but search."
"Well, it cannot be helped now. I am very vexed Mr. Leigh has gone so soon. As to this matter, the children and Randall give different accounts. I suppose it often is so in a question of missing each other. So I suppose we must think 'all's well that ends well,' and be glad it has come right now. Pray sit down, Miss Ashlyn, you look ready to faint."
"I never faint, thank you," Gertrude answered, "but we are very tired, almost too tired, perhaps, to look at the matter fairly."
"Oh, I should let it drop," said Mr. Shaddock good-humouredly. "Randall got lost, and is found again, and now let us forget it, and eat some supper."
Gertrude had been wondering in the train what dreadful punishment would be given the little delinquent, and only feared it might be too severe. She was therefore astonished to find that all was to be overlooked, and the matter left as if it had not happened.
She determined to talk to Randall herself, and try to get him to confess his share of the spoilt day. But now nothing could be done but to accept the offered tea, and think again of poor Otto making his way back to the West End, tired and lonely.
Daisy and Hugh came in at the sound of the gong, but Mrs. Shaddock had Randall's tea carried to him in the drawing-room by Mollie. And when they went there after the meal, he had gone to nurse to be put to bed.
Gertrude soon went up to her schoolroom, and sat down in her arm-chair utterly wearied out.
Daisy and Hugh came to wish good-night, and then she was left alone for half an hour.
She tried to recall all the events of the day, all Otto's words and tones which had been so refreshing to her as part of her old home life, but nothing seemed to come before her eyes but that scene in the Museum, when he had appeared in the doorway without Randall, and then their frantic search afterwards.
She was just coming to the conclusion that she should never be happy at the Shaddocks' any more if they were going to blame her for the accident, when a tap came at the door, and nurse's kind face peeped in.
"I came to see if you might want anything, Miss Ashlyn," she said quietly, "and to tell you I am so sorry about the child being missed."
"Thank you," faltered Gertrude. Her lips trembled, and she could not get out another word.
"Don't you be upset, miss. The children have told me their different stories, and I can see how it is."
"I wish I could be sure he did not do it on purpose—" began Gertrude; and then she wished she had not said so. She looked up quickly in nurse's face. "I hardly like to have said that," she added, "but—"
Nurse nodded. "Time will show," she said. "Sometimes when we can't right ourselves, there's One takes it up for us, miss, and brings good out of bad!"
"Oh, if He only would!" said Gertrude with a long breath.
"Don't be afraid, miss; I've seen it over and over, and have reason to trust Him!"
CHAPTER XLII.
CLOUDS.
EARLY the next morning Gertrude was up, and was bending over her Bible to get refreshment before the day's work began. She dreaded what it might bring to her, for she had seen enough of the way Randall had carried through the misfortune of the bank-note, to hope that he would unsay any of his yesterday's story.
Nurse's cheering words, however, had done her good, and she rose from her reading with a heart at rest in the promises which were so abundant and so full.
Her eyes had rested on some words which seemed to fit into her perplexity and vexation, giving her fresh hope and courage.
"'I will love Thee, O LORD, my strength!'"
So when Daisy peeped into her room, she met the child's inquiring look with a smile.
"Here is a letter for you, Miss Ashlyn."
It was from Rose, telling of their disappointment at her non-appearance the evening before, and saying how sorry Otto was to arrive alone without the bright party which Fritz had invited to tea at his hotel.
Then Rose went on to say a few words about Lester, adding that time forbade her to write more, but if Mrs. Shaddock and Gertrude could call upon her during that day, she could better explain everything by word of mouth.
"I shall not ask that," said Gertrude to herself, "though I suppose I must convey Rose's invitation."
"Mother is not very well this morning," said Daisy, "and Randall is as cross as two sticks."
"Never mind that, dear. He must be sorry he was so unkind."
"I do not think he is. Miss Ashlyn, make haste, for the boys are ready for breakfast, and Mollie is not down. They want to get off to school in good time; they've got to meet a boy at the station."
Gertrude felt her life had begun again in good earnest. She put away her Bible and followed Daisy to the dining-room, where Conway and Ned were already eating their breakfast in haste.
When Mollie came in, she did not seem to have recovered her temper from yesterday any more than Randall had. She brought a message from her mother, however, that she begged Miss Ashlyn to spend the afternoon with her sister, but that she did not feel equal to any excitement, and was going to stay in her room all the morning.
"Will you take your mother the letter I have had from my sister?"
Mollie took the letter in her hand, but sat down to her breakfast without offering to carry it to her mother.
By the time Daisy's music-lesson was over, however, she brought back the answer.
"Mother thanks Mrs. Leigh, and if she is well enough in the afternoon she will drive to town and call upon her. At any rate, you are to go, Miss Ashlyn. Daisy and I are to go to see our cousins who live on the Heath, you know. Randall is to stay with nurse."
Gertrude felt that the plan was very kind, and yet she would almost have preferred to remain quietly at home with her pupils.
"Are you sure that is what your mother wishes?" she asked.
"Yes, Miss Ashlyn. Mother would not like to be worried with any more questions. She had quite enough worry yesterday."
Gertrude looked up steadily at the pretty girl as she stood before her with her little air of half-condescending, half-defiant politeness.
"We all had a great deal of worry yesterday, Mollie. However, I will do as your mother so kindly suggests. I hope I may be able to thank her for all her kindness some day."
Mollie looked rather surprised at the quiet answer, under which she could not but perceive a slight reserve. She, however, dismissed the matter with a light—
"Well, let it be settled so, Miss Ashlyn. I am sure you must be longing to see Mrs. Leigh." And with a toss back of her long hair over her shoulders, she hastened away to fulfil the housekeeping duties before school, which devolved upon her when Mrs. Shaddock was ill.
Gertrude rang the school-bell, but as Randall did not appear, she made her way to the nursery to inquire for him.
He was there, leaning over the guard, with his chin on his hands. "Are you ready for lessons, my dear?" she asked kindly.
"He does not seem quite the thing to-day, Miss Ashlyn," said nurse. "Perhaps he had better remain up here with me? He says his head aches."
"If you think Mrs. Shaddock would wish that."
"Yes, I am sure she would. She is so poorly this morning that I cannot worry her with telling her that he is not well. I hope an hour or two will see him better. I suspect he took a chill yesterday."
So Gertrude went back to Daisy and Mollie, first, however, carrying Randall a puzzle from her box to amuse him, of which he took no notice beyond an abrupt "thank you," turning again to the fire as before.
CHAPTER XLIII.
"WAITING FOR YOU!"
THE morning passed away peacefully.
Daisy was angelic, and though Mollie had still her little supercilious air which chafed Gertrude inwardly, she kept it enough within bounds to avoid rebuke.
When they came out from lessons, Mollie found that her mother was no better than she had been in the early morning, and nurse was busy with her.
"It is one of her heart attacks," said Mollie in a reproachful tone to Gertrude. "That is how she always is when she has any excitement or alarm. She will be ill for days, I expect, and nurse will hardly be able to leave her."
"I did not know she was subject to these attacks," said Gertrude.
"No, I suppose you did not, or, of course, you would have been more particular about Randall—"
"But, Mollie, it was Randall's own doing."
"Oh, well, there are two opinions about that. At any rate, what with the excitement about Lester, and now this about Randall, mother is perfectly upset, and it is a great bother."
Gertrude did not pursue the subject. She gathered her books together, wondering if she could be spared to go to her sister, but not liking to employ Mollie as her messenger to ask this question.
Daisy came in at the moment and settled the difficulty.
"Miss Ashlyn, mother is not well enough to visit your sister to-day. But would you please go and enjoy yourself. Mother hopes Mrs. Leigh will have good news for you, and that you will be able to help her."
Gertrude sent a message in reply. And then the dinner gong rang, and they went down to their rather forlorn meal, Mollie presiding instead of her mother, and Randall sitting at the side, but eating very little and talking less.
The moment after dinner, the girls dressed to go to their cousins, Randall went back to the nursery, and Gertrude was set free.
When she went out, anxious as she was to get to her sister, as she turned to shut the gate, her eyes fell upon the Strange House, and she thought of Mrs. Swift.
No, she must hasten on to see Rose, she thought.
And yet—yet—it would not take five minutes to greet the poor, desolate woman who had so recently lost so much.
A moment's indecision, and then she turned that way and walked up the garden path.
Her ring at the bell brought Mrs. Swift very quickly to the door.
A haggard face, with anxious, sunken eyes, met hers.
"Mrs. Swift! You have been ill," exclaimed Gertrude.
"It's my husband!" was her abrupt answer. "He will not have a doctor, and I'm at my wits' end!" She opened the door wide, and Gertrude stepped within it.
"What is the matter?"
"I do not know!"
"Is he very bad?"
"Well, not to say very bad, but he's too ill to leave his bed. We were going to move at once, but now we can't, and he says he shall stay till Christmas."
"I will come and see him to-morrow, if I can," said Gertrude. "I am on my way to visit my sister and her little boy."
"Little Lester, miss?" asked Mrs. Swift, forgetting for a moment her own anxiety.
"Yes."
"It was kind of you to tell me, miss. Has he been to a doctor yet, miss?"
"Yes; I have not seen my sister yet, but I believe he has been."
"I hardly dare to ask, miss,—I am sure I have no right; but—does the doctor give any hope, miss?"
"I can hardly tell you, because I know so little myself. But I think he does hope that time may improve him. Time and care, and sunshine and sea air."
Again Mrs. Swift gave one of her long, deep-drawn breaths. "Ah! He did not have all those with me," she said sadly.
"No, Mrs. Swift. Shall you think me unkind if I say that the doctor gave it as his opinion that he was brought away just in time?"
Mrs. Swift nodded sadly. "I knew it," she said. "Oh, miss, if you had not come along that night, and had not stopped to speak to me! Oh, miss, how can I thank you?"
"Do not thank me, but God," said Gertrude gently. "Now I must go, but tell your husband from me that I do entreat him to have a doctor; perhaps he would accept a message from me?"
"He thinks a deal of you, miss, in a quiet way—"
"Then say so, and remember that you have a mighty Saviour now to help you in everything. Tell Him all about your husband, and He will do for you what you cannot do yourself."
She hastened away, and sped to the high-road, where she hoped to meet with a cab or omnibus which might expedite her journey to the Great Northern Hotel.
As she turned the corner, pacing up and down with quiet, patient step, was a figure which she instantly recognized.
It was walking away from her, but when it came to the next road, it turned and came towards her slowly.
"Otto!" she exclaimed. "Whatever brought you here?"
"I have been waiting for you! Your note told Rose you would come in the afternoon. I have been waiting for you for a long time, Gertrude!"