“There must be someone,” he repeated, with conviction. “Austin, lad, this is too soon to talk so hopeless-like. Mayhap your mother is fair dazed with the shock, and too upset to think clear. Keep up heart, dear lad, and cheer Madam and Missy too. Tell them as all must come right.”
“Oh, Jim!” broke out Austin, “I wish you would come to Elveley and make some sense of things! It’s so awfully bothering to go on not knowing what will really happen, and with Mater not able to tell us. Jim, do come home with me now!”
“Dear lad, I’d come with you gladly, but I haven’t the right—yet. I promised your mother I wouldn’t tell who I was; and what would folks think to see Jim East the blacksmith meddling with Madam’s affairs? No, it would just worry her more if I should venture—it would make things harder for her to see me there. I mayn’t do it, lad. It’s terrible vexing to know I mayn’t.”
Jim’s reluctance was so evidently reasonable and unselfish that Austin forbore to press his entreaty. Instead, he allowed himself to be comforted and encouraged by all the arguments for hope and cheerfulness which Jim could draw from his imagination. At the smithy, Austin always felt happy and at peace. The difficulty was to tear himself away and go back to the home whence peace and happiness had fled.
Mrs. Morland, as has been said, was not personally popular in the village where she had made her home. Woodend was, in a sense, old-fashioned, and it had acquiesced quietly in her assumption of leadership in all that concerned its small social matters, but it had not learned to like her. Though its upper-class community was no less charitable than others similarly placed, there were not a few old residents who heard the story of the Morland downfall, as it affected the mistress of Elveley, with hardly more than a conventional murmur of regret. But when her children were under discussion the case was different. Everyone liked the bright girl and boy, everyone grieved at the tragic calamity which must so greatly change their lives.
Still, there were some neighbours able and willing to show Mrs. Morland kindness and sympathy. These sought her out at the earliest moment that good taste allowed, and frankly offered to be of service; but the poor woman, completely overwhelmed by the extent of the disaster, rejected their overtures with angry scorn. Naturally, her well-meaning friends retired precipitately, determining that she should be left to take her own course.
What that course should be Mrs. Morland did not even attempt to decide. The creditors who had insisted on the sale of Elveley wished to show the innocent debtor some consideration, and informed her that she might continue to occupy the house for three weeks. The Rector, who was not to be driven away by any rebuffs, listened patiently to the outpourings of bitter invective against her fraudulent trustee, which seemed the only relief Mrs. Morland could discover. The kindly, gentle old man was too infirm to fight an injured woman’s battles; but Edward Carlyon persuaded Mrs. Morland to put her affairs in the hands of a competent solicitor, who might make the best terms possible with her creditors.
The three weeks of grace had almost slipped by, and still no provision had been made for the future of the little family. Frances and Austin seldom left their mother, though in her presence they were acutely miserable. They were young and vigorous, and, after they had recovered from the shock of misfortune, they were eager to be up and doing. Both girl and boy implored their mother to speak—to tell them what her plans might be, so that they might help forward any arrangements she had made. But Mrs. Morland declared herself incapable of action, and was not moved even by the pale and anxious faces of the harassed pair who were ready to take the field in her behalf.
It was an awakening period for the two young Morlands. Hitherto they had felt a childlike security in the capacity of a mother’s protecting love and care. The world’s struggles and trials had seemed far removed from the sheltered comfort of their home. Now, the arm that had encircled and shielded them had been suddenly removed, and the onset of trouble found them defenseless.