“I should tap the two ends together, so opening and closing the circuit; that, in reality, is all that a telegraph key does. An inexperienced person might have some difficulty in reading such a message, but it would be easy enough to a good operator,” explained the inspector; and then, from the top of his pole, he launched into a lecture on telegraphy, whilst he finished clearing away the spruce branches, so leaving the wires free from any danger of contact.
“It is such wonderful work, and so interesting!” cried Nell, as, the work ended, the inspector buckled on his snow-shoes again, and the two set off towards Bratley once more.
“Properly speaking, all science is interesting—to a real student, that is; but electricity and all connected with it is positively enthralling,” replied the inspector. Then he launched into descriptions of the mystery and wonder of the science, which lasted, with few interruptions, for the whole way back to the depot.
So the dreaded visit of the inspector had gone off like a festival day, and the letter Nell wrote to Gertrude that night was rose-coloured all through, which was a fortunate thing, for the reply which came back in the course of a week was tinged with deep depression.
“Home will never be the same again I fear” (wrote Gertrude). “Father and mother are both so bowed and broken with trouble, that I tremble to look at them. Father can’t get strong either, and he has such a terrible cough. Dr. Shaw is worried about him, I know, and is always talking to mother about the need for feeding him up. But poor mother is so absorbed in grieving about Percy and Arthur, that she seems to have no attention to spare for anything else, so Flossie and I have to coddle father as best we can. I would resign Bratley altogether and stay at home now to help father and mother, only they won’t hear of it—at least mother won’t, though I think father would like to have me here with him. So by-and-by when the spring comes and I am a little stronger, I shall have to turn you out, my poor brave Nell; you know how I shall hate to do it, and yet there seems no other way. I have been trying to persuade mother that the best thing she can do is to ask you to come back and stay the summer at Lorimer’s Clearing, but she says she is quite equal to the work herself, and as Dr. Shaw says that work is her best medicine, there seems nothing else to be done but to leave her to herself. Oh dear! life is such a grievous tangle just now, and I have not your courage for the hard places. This is a dismal letter, but it is such a comfort to tell you my troubles. Your loving
“Gertrude.”
Nell sighed a little as she read the letter. Just in her heart of hearts, it did seem hard that she could not keep the Bratley post, now that she could fill it so well; and Gertrude was needed at home, in spite of all Mrs. Lorimer might say about it, for Abe Lorimer clung to his eldest daughter more than to any of his children, and if he were weak and ill he must need her all the more.
Mrs. Nichols said the same thing, when the letter was read to her.
“Miss Lorimer ought not to come back, that’s plain, and if she sent in her resignation now, they’d be sure to give the berth to you; then we could settle down as cosy as you please. But there is always a contrary person somewhere, and it is mostly a woman. That is how I have found it,” she remarked, shaking her head with a dissatisfied air.
“Mr. Lorimer was very ill when I was at Lorimer’s Clearing. For days the doctor did not think that he could get better,” Nell said, with a troubled look on her face, for she was wondering what would become of all that helpless little family, if the breadwinner were to be taken away.