on letting you grow old, Ethel—said you were getting over-tasked, and no one heeding it; and looking—let’s look’— and he took off his spectacles, put his hand on her shoulder, and studied her face.
‘Old enough to be a respectable lady of the house, I hope,’ said Ethel.
‘Wiry enough for most things,’ said the Doctor, patting her shoulder, reassured; ‘but we must take care, Ethel; if you don’t fatten yourself up, we shall have Flora coming and carrying you off to London for a change, and for Tom to practise on.
‘That is a threat! I expected he had been prescribing for me already, never to go near Cocksmoor, for that’s what people always begin by—’
‘Nothing worse than pale ale.’ At which Ethel made one of her faces. ‘And to make a Mary of that chit of a Daisy. Well, you may do as you please—only take care, or Flora will be down upon us.’
‘Tom has been very helpful and kind to me,’ said Ethel. ‘And, papa, he has seen Leonard, and he says he looked so noble that to shake hands with him made him feel quite small.’
‘I never heard anything so much to Tom’s credit! Well, and what did he say of the dear lad?’
The next step was to mention Averil’s letter to Mary, which could not be sent on till tidings had been permitted by Mr. Cheviot.
‘Let us see it,’ said the Doctor.
‘Do you think Charles Cheviot would like it?’
‘Cheviot is a man of sense,’ said the open-hearted Doctor, ‘and there may be something to authorize preventing this unlucky transfer of her fortune.’
Nothing could be further from it; but it was a long and interesting letter, written in evidently exhilarated spirits, and with a hopeful description of the new scenes. Ethel read it to her father, and he told every one about it when they came in. Tom manifested no particular interest; but he did not go by the mail train that night, and was not visible all the morning. He caught Ethel alone however at noon, and said, ‘Ethel, I owe you this,’ offering the amount she had paid for the letter.
‘Thank you,’ she said, wondering if this was to be all she should hear about it.
‘I am going by the afternoon train,’ he added; ‘I have been over to Blewer. It is true, Ethel, the fellow can’t stand it! he has sent down a manager, and is always in London! Most likely to dispose of it by private contract there, they say.’
‘And what has become of old Hardy?’
‘Poor old fellow, he has struck work, looks terribly shaky. He took me for my father at first sight, and began to apologize most plaintively—said no one else had ever done him any good. I advised him to come in and see my father, though he is too far gone to do much for him.’
‘Poor old man, can he afford to come in now?’
‘Why, I helped him with the cart hire. It is no use any way, he knows no more than we do, and his case is confirmed; but he thinks he has offended my father, and he’ll die more in peace for having had him again. Look here, what a place they have got to.’
And without further explanation of the ‘they,’ Tom placed a letter in Ethel’s hands.
‘My Dear Mr. Thomas,
‘I send you the objects I promised for your microscope; I could not get any before because we were in the city; but if you like these I can get plenty more at Massissauga, where we are now. We came here last week, and the journey was very nice, only we went bump bump so often, and once we stuck in a marsh, and were splashed all over. We are staying with Mr. Muller and Cora till our own house is quite ready; it was only begun a fortnight ago, and we are to get in next week. I thought this would have been a town, it looked so big and so square in the plan; but it is all trees still, and there are only thirteen houses built yet. Ours is all by itself in River Street, and all the trees near it have been killed, and stand up all dead and white, because nobody has time to cut them down. It looks very dismal, but Ave says it will be very nice by and by, and, Rufus Muller says it has mammoth privileges. I send you a bit of rattlesnake skin. They found fifteen of them asleep under a stone, just where our house is built, and sometimes they come into the kitchen. I do not know the names of the other things I send; and I could not ask Ave, for she said you would not want to be bothered with a little girl’s letter, and I was not to ask for an answer. Rosa Willis says no young lady of my age would ask her sister’s permission, and not even her mother’s, unless her mamma was very intellectual and highly educated, and always saw the justice of her arguments; but Minna and I do not mean to be like that. I would tell Ave if you did write to me, but she need not read it unless she liked.
‘I am, your affectionate little friend, ‘ELLA.’
‘Well!’ said Tom, holding out his hand for more when she had restored this epistle. ‘You have heard all there was in it, except—’
‘Except what I want to see.’
And Ethel, as she had more or less intended all along, let him have Averil’s letter, since the exception was merely a few tender words of congratulation to Mary. The worst had been done already by her father; and it may here be mentioned that though nothing was said in answer to her explanation of the opening of the letter, the headmaster never recovered the fact, and always attributed it to his dear sister Ethel.
‘For the future,’ said Tom, as he gave back the thin sheets, ‘they will all be for the Cheviots’ private delectation.’
‘I shall begin on my own score,’ said Ethel. ‘You know if you answer this letter, you must not mention that visit of yours, or you will be prohibited, and one would not wish to excite a domestic secession.’
‘It would serve the unnatural scoundrel right,’ said Tom. ‘Well, I must go and put up my things. You’ll keep me up to what goes on at home, and if there’s anything out there to tell Leonard—’
‘Wait a moment, Tom!’—and she told him what the Doctor had said about his plans.
‘Highly educated and intellectual,’ was all the answer that Tom vouchsafed; and whether he were touched or not she could not gather.
Yet her spirit felt less weary and burdened, and more full of hope than it had been for a long time past. Averil’s letter showed the exhilaration of the change, and of increasing confidence and comfort in her friend Cora Muller. Cora’s Confirmation had brought the girls into contact with the New York clergy, and had procured them an
