Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work Part 23

"Will you see Martha," he asked, "and have her give Tom Gates a room?"

She went on her errand at once, and gradually the young man recovered his composure.

"I can do typewriting and stenography, Mr. Forbes," he said, "and I can keep accounts. I'll serve you faithfully, sir."

"We'll talk of all this by and by, Tom," replied Kenneth, kindly. "Just now you must have some sleep and get your strength back. And don't worry about Lucy. Burke will do everything that can be done, and I am confident he will be able to trace the girl in time."

"Thank you, sir."

Then he followed the butler away to his room, and after the girls had discussed him and expressed their sympathy for the unfortunate fellow, they all turned their attention to the important matter of the campaign.

The debate with Hopkins was the thing that occupied them just now, and when Patsy joined the group of workers they began to discuss some means of scoring a decisive victory at the Fairview Opera House. The Honorable Erastus still insisted upon making the anti-sign fight the prominent issue of the campaign, and they must reply forcibly to the misleading statements made in his last hand-bill.

Meantime Tom Gates was sunk in the deep sleep of physical exhaustion, and the day wore away before he wakened. When at last he regained consciousness he found the sun sinking in the west and feared he had been guilty of indiscretion. He remembered that he was Mr. Forbes's secretary now, and that Mr. Forbes might want him. He was not yet thoroughly rested, but night was approaching and he reflected that he could obtain all the sleep that he needed then.

So, greatly refreshed, and in a quieter mood than he had been for days, the young man dressed and entered the hall to find his way downstairs.

It happened that Beth, whose room was near this rear corridor, had just gone there to dress for dinner, and as she was closing her door she heard a wild, impa.s.sioned cry:

"Lucy!"

Quickly she sprang out into the hall and turned the corner in time to see a strange tableau.

Young Gates was standing with his arms outstretched toward Eliza Parsons, who, a few paces away, had her back to the door of her own chamber, from which she had evidently just stepped. She stood motionless, looking curiously at the youth who confronted her.

"Lucy! don't you know me?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion.

"To begin with," said the girl, composedly, "my name happens to be Eliza. And as we've not been properly introduced I really don't see why I should know you," she added, with a light laugh.

Tom Gates shrank away from her as if he had been struck.

"You can't be Lucy!" he murmured. "And yet--and yet--oh, you _must_ be Lucy! You must know me! Look at me, dear--I'm Tom. I'm your own Tom, Lucy!"

"It's very gratifying, I'm sure, young man," said the girl, a touch of scorn in her tones. "If you're my own Tom you'll perhaps stand out of my way and let me go to my work."

Without another word he backed up again; the wall and permitted her to sweep by him, which she did with a gesture of disdain.

When Eliza Parsons had disappeared down the back stairs Beth drew a long breath and approached Tom Gates, who still stood by the wall staring at the place where the girl had disappeared.

"I overheard," said Beth. "Tell me, Tom, is she really like Lucy?"

He looked at her with a dazed expression, as if he scarcely comprehended her words.

"Could you have been mistaken?" persisted the questioner.

He pa.s.sed his hand over his eyes and gave a shudder.

"Either it was Lucy or her ghost," he muttered.

"Eliza Parsons is no ghost," declared Beth. "She's one of the maids here at Elmhurst, and you're quite likely to see her again."

"Has she been here long?" he asked, eagerly.

"No; only a few days."

"Oh!"

"When I first saw her I was struck by her resemblance to Mrs. Rogers,"

continued the girl.

"But she's so different," said Tom, choking back a sob. "Lucy couldn't be so--so airy, so heartless. She isn't at all that style of a girl, miss."

"She may be acting," suggested Beth.

But he shook his head gloomily.

"No; Lucy couldn't act that way. She's quick and impulsive, but she--she couldn't act. And she wouldn't treat me that way, either, Miss Beth.

Lucy and I have been sweethearts for years, and I know every expression of her dear face. But the look that this girl gave me was one that my Lucy never could a.s.sume. I must have been mistaken. I--I'm sure I was mistaken."

Beth sighed. She was disappointed.

"I suppose," continued Tom, "that I've thought of Lucy so long and so much, lately, and worried so over her disappearance, that I'm not quite myself, and imagined this girl was more like her than she really is.

What did you say her name was?"

"Eliza Parsons."

"Thank you. Can you tell me where I'll find Mr. Forbes?"

"He's getting ready for dinner, now, and won't need you at present."

"Then I'll go back to my room. It--it was a great shock to me, that likeness, Miss DeGraf."

"I can well believe it," said Beth; and then she went to her own apartment, greatly puzzled at a resemblance so strong that it had even deceived Lucy Rogers's own sweetheart.

CHAPTER XV

SIGNS OF THE TIMES

"If she is really Lucy Rogers, she'll be missing tomorrow morning," said Beth when she had told her cousins of the encounter in the corridor.

But Eliza Parsons was still at Elmhurst the next day, calmly pursuing her duties, and evidently having forgotten or decided to ignore the young man who had so curiously mistaken her for another. Beth took occasion to watch her movements, so far as she could, and came to the conclusion that the girl was not acting a part. She laughed naturally and was too light-hearted and gay to harbor a care of any sort in her frivolous mind.

But there was a mystery about her; that could not be denied. Even if she were but a paid spy of Erastus Hopkins there was a story in this girl's life, brief as it had been.

Beth was full of curiosity to know this story.