Part 50 (1/2)

'I don't blow properly,' said Dolores.

'I think I can say him,' said Mysie, and the little girls sat with enfolded arms, while Mysie reverently went through the parable.

'But he had been very wicked indeed,' objected Dolores, 'what one calls dissipated. Isn't that making too much of such things as girls like us can do.'

'I don't know,' said Mysie, knitting her young brows; 'you see if we are as bad as ever we can be while we are at home, it is really and truly as bad in us ourselves as in shocking people that run away, because it shows we might have done anything if we had not been taken care of. And the poor son felt as if he could not be pardoned, which is just what you do feel.'

'Aunt Lily forgives me,' said Dolores, wistfully.

'And your father will, I'm sure,' said Mysie, 'though he is yet a great way off. And as to Uncle Regie, I do wish something would happen that you could tell the truth about. If you had only broken the palm-tree instead of me, and I didn't do right even about that! But if any mischief does happen, or accident, I promise you, Dolly, you shall have the telling of it, if you have had ever so little to do with it, and then mamma will write to Uncle Regie that you have proved yourself truthful.'

Dolores did not seem much consoled by this curious promise, and Mysie's childishness suddenly gave way to something deeper. 'I suppose,' she said, 'if one is true, people find it out and trust one.'

'People can't see into one,' said Dolly.

'Mamma says there is a bright side and a dark side from which to look at everybody and everything,' said Mysie.

'I know that,' said Dolores; 'I looked at the dark side of you all when I came here.'

'Some day,' said Mysie, 'your bright side will come round to Uncle Regie, as it has to us, you dear, dear old Dolly.'

'But do you know, Mysie,' whispered Dolores, in her embrace, 'there's something more dreadful that I'm very much afraid of. Do you know there hasn't been a letter from father since he was staying with Aunt Phyllis--not to me, nor Aunt Jane, nor anybody!'

'Well, he couldn't write when he was at sea, I mean there wasn't any post.'

'It would not take so long as this to get to Fiji; and besides. Uncle Regie telegraphed to ask about that dreadful cheque, and there hasn't been any answer at all.'

'Perhaps he is gone about sailing somewhere in the Pacific Ocean; I heard Uncle William saying so to Cousin Rotherwood.' He said, 'Maurice is not a fellow to resist a cruise.'

'Then they are thinking about it. They are anxious.'

'Not very,' said Mysie, 'for they think he is sure to be gone on a cruise. They said something about his going down like a carpenter into the deep sea.'

'Making deep-sea soundings, like Dr. Carpenter! A carpenter, indeed!'

said Dolores, laughing for a moment. 'Oh! if it is that, I don't mind.'

The weight was lifted, but by-and-by, when the two girls said their prayers together, poor Dolores broke forth again, 'Oh, Mysie, Mysie, your papa has all--all of you, besides mamma, to pray that he may be kept safe, and my father has only me, only horrid me, to pray for him, and even I have never cared to do it really till just lately! Oh, poor, poor father! And suppose he should be drowned, and never, never have forgiven me!'

It was a trouble and misery that recurred night after night, though apparently it weighed much less during the day--and n.o.body but Mysie knew how much Dolores was suffering from it. Lady Merrifield was increasingly anxious as time went on, and still no mail brought letters from Mr. Mohun, but confidence based on his erratic habits, and the uncertainty of communication began to fail. And as she grieved more for the possible loss, she became more and more tender to her niece, and strange to say, in spite of the terror that gnawed so achingly every night, and of the ordeal that the Lent a.s.sizes would bring, Dolores was happier and more peaceful than ever before at Silverton, and developed more of her bright side.

'I really think,' wrote Lady Merrifield to Miss Mohun, 'that she is growing more simple and child-like, poor little maid. She is apparently free from all our apprehensions about dear Maurice, and I would not inspire her with them for the world. Neither does she seem to dread the trial, as I do for her, nor to guess what cross-examination may be.

Constance Hacket has been subpoenaed, and her sister expatiates on her nervousness. It is one comfort that Reginald must be there as a witness, so that it is not in the power of Irish disturbances to keep him from us! May we only be at ease about Maurice by that time!'

CHAPTER XXI. -- IN COURT AND OUT.

How Dolores's heart beat when Colonel Mohun drove up to the door! She durst not run out to greet him among her cousins; but stood by her aunt, feeling hot and cold and trembling, in the doubt whether he would kiss her.

Yes, she did feel his kiss, and Mysie looked at her in congratulation.