Mattie:-A Stray Volume III Part 30

Mattie told him all that she knew, and he listened, rubbed his hands one over the other complacently, and exulted, like a good man as he was, over the well-doing of others. He indulged in a short prayer also for all the goodness and mercies vouchsafed to Sidney; and Mattie, who had never become reconciled to these sudden and spasmodic prayers, yet joined in this one with all her heart.

"Now," said he, suddenly a.s.suming his every-day briskness, "for _my_ news. But in the first place, don't excite yourself, Mattie--because it ends in nothing."

"Indeed!"

"I am not fond of exciting situations, and therefore I begin with the end, in order that I may not be excited myself. The end is, that I declined their offer, Mattie."

"What offer?"

"We'll come to that next. They wanted to see me at the chapel--there's a great scheme afoot for a further extension of the missionary project; they want a very energetic man for Africa--just such a man as I am," he added, with that old naive conceit which set well and conveniently upon him, because he spoke the truth after all; "and they've altered their opinion of that other man, who, if you remember, stepped into my shoes some time ago."

"Yes, I remember."

"But they were too late--I told them so. I said that though my daughter was about to marry and have a home of her own, yet I had learned to love her so dearly that I did not care, in my old age, as it will be presently, to begin life afresh without her. I thought that I could do my Master's service here as elsewhere, and that I would rather give up that good chance than give up you, and go away for ever."

"For ever!--why?"

"I was to settle down at the Cape--minister at a chapel there that will be completed before the next vessel arrives--and I felt too weak of purpose, Heaven forgive me, to leave you altogether."

"And you declined?"

"Yes, firmly and decisively. Perhaps it was wrong."

"Go back, then, at once--don't lose a moment, lest they should think of another man whom they can put in your place!"

"What!--what!--what!" he cried, jealously, "you wish to get rid of me like that."

"No--to go with you--share your life and labours there--be happy with you!"

"Mattie!--what does this mean?"

He held her at arm's length, and looked into her tear-dimmed eyes; he read the truth at last there, and, though unable to account for it, he folded his stricken daughter to his heart, and even wept with her. A man who had known little of earth's romance, or of the tenderness of life, and yet who understood it, now it was face to face with him, and could appreciate the loneliness of her whose life had become linked with his own.

"So," he said, at last, "you do not--you do not love Sidney well enough to become his wife?"

"Yes, I do. I love him too well ever to make him unhappy by becoming so, and standing between him and one he loves so much better than me. Some day I will tell you the whole story--explain it more minutely--you will spare me now, and keep my secret ever?"

"Ever," he responded.

"He will never know how I have loved him, therefore his memory will not be embittered by thinking that I--I felt this separation very much. I shall give him up--that's all! I don't think that he will care for any explanation--and after that, I should very much like to go away with you to a new world."

"Beginning life anew, and leaving all old troubles behind us--well, if it must end like this, so much the better, Mattie!"

Mattie was silent for awhile, then said suddenly--

"You will go back now, and tell them that your daughter is anxious to go with you--to serve you there, and be your faithful servant in the good work lying before us both."

"If it's certain that you----"

"Father, there can be no alteration in _me_."

Mr. Gray took up his hat again and prepared to depart. He would have liked to attempt consolation to his daughter, but he felt, probably for the first time, that his efforts would have resulted in no good--that she was already resigned, and that the utterance of trite aphorisms would only unnecessarily wound her.

He departed, and Mattie, true to her old business habits, took once more her place in the shop. She was glad that there was no business doing that afternoon--that Peckham in the aggregate was undisturbed with thoughts of stationery. She could sit there and deliberate upon her plans for bringing Harriet and Sidney together--they must be happy at least, and she must not go away from England uncertain about their future. Two old sweethearts, whose liking for each other had only been temporarily disturbed--for whose happiness she had made many efforts, and did not flinch at this one. After all, she thought, their happiness would be hers--and she should go away content.

Then there rose before her that future for herself, and she could see in the new life, in the new world, that which her father had prophesied.

All the old troubles would be left behind on the old battle-ground; she would make up her mind to that, and thus life would be different with her, and happiness for her, perhaps, follow in due course. She had no idea of being unhappy all her life, because she had discovered that Sidney Hinchford's heart had been true to its first love; on the contrary, she was certain now that she should get over all her romantic difficulties in a very little time. At the bottom of all this was the woman's pride to be above all petty sorrowing for those who had never really loved her,--as she deserved to be loved,--and that would keep her strong, she knew.

Afar, then, she saw herself happy enough in the new world--with the familiar faces of her father and Ann Packet to remind her of the old.

New friends, new pursuits, new incentives to do good, and defeat evil at every turn of her life--her young life still--with scope for energy and a fair time given her, not entirely alone, and never unloved, there would be nothing to disturb, and much to gladden, the future progress of the stray.

When her father returned in the evening, he found her very anxious to learn the result of his second journey to London.

"Were you in time?" she asked.

"Yes. It's all settled, my dear."

"I am very glad of that," she murmured; "there is no uncertainty about our next step."

"No--we must see Sidney now, dissolve partners.h.i.+p, and put the shutters up, Mattie."

"We must write to him in a day or two about the partners.h.i.+p--I would prefer that they know nothing of our intentions until the last instant--until we are ready to go--perhaps until we _are_ gone. I don't think I could stand up against all their good-byes and best wishes--I would rather go away quietly, with you and Ann."

"Ann!"

"We must not forget her."

"She'll never go to the Cape, my dear--she can't go to Finsbury to bank her wages without hysterics, now."

"Because she's nervous, and I don't go with her," said Mattie.

"Ah! I see--you're right, my child. Ann Packet will have no fear about accompanying _us_. And she'll make a much handier servant than a Zulu Kaffir."

"And we'll go away quietly," said Mattie again.

"Yes my dear, if you wish it. I object to anything in the dark, but as it's for your sake--I promise."

"Thank you," whispered Mattie.

Whilst Mattie was writing a letter to Harriet Wesden, as she had promised Maurice Hinchford--Mr. Gray broke the news to Ann Packet, and impressed secrecy upon her. Ann Packet was asked to state her wishes, and Mattie looked up from her desk and smiled at the old faithful servant.

"Anywhere's you like," said Ann, without a moment's hesitation; "black men or brown men--I suppose they're one or tother there--won't matter anythink to me. I'm too old to care about the colour on 'em. And, Miss Mattie"--she always called our heroine Miss Mattie in Mr. Gray's presence--"whilst you're at your desk, do'ee give notice at my bank about my money."

"Plenty of time, Ann," said Mr. Gray; "we shan't leave here for two months yet, at least."

"Then give 'em two months' notice," was Ann's rejoinder. "There's thirty-seven pounds nine and sevenpence halfpenny in there, and they may as well be told to get it ready for me. If they've been a speccilating with it, it'll give 'em time to call it in."