A Charming Fellow, Volume II

by Frances Eleanor Trollope

But old Max had brought another document in his pocket, which had been placed in his hand just as he was starting in the gig. It was a letter directed to Miss Rhoda Maxfield, High Street, Whitford. And this he pulled out almost immediately on seeing Rhoda. A glance at her face sufficed to show him that she was unhappy and dispirited. "She has heard it!" he thought. And something like an anathema upon Algernon followed the thought in his mind.

The old man's countenance was not so clearly read by his daughter; indeed, she hardly raised her eyes to his, but received his kiss in silence.

"I'm afraid, father, you'll not find Rhoda's looks doing us credit," said Mrs. Seth. "Why or wherefore I don't know, but these last days she has been as peaky as can be."

"It's the heat, maybe," said old Max shortly and withdrew his own and Mrs. Seth's attention from the girl, as she read the letter he handed to her. Rhoda was grateful for this forbearance on her father's part, although it fluttered her, too, a little, as proving that he was aware of the cause of her dejection, and anxious to shield it from observation.

The letter was from Minnie Bodkin. She had written it almost immediately on hearing of Algernon's intended marriage. It invited Rhoda, if her father would consent, to visit the Bodkins during the remainder of their stay at the seaside. There was no word of allusion to the Erringtons in the letter. Minnie only said, "Mamma and I remember that your cheeks had lost their roses, somewhat, when we left Whitford. And we think that a breath of sea-breeze may blow them back again. It is some time since you had complete change of air. Tell Mr. Maxfield we will take good care of you." And in a postscript Mrs. Bodkin had added, in her small running hand, "Do come, my dear. We shall be very glad to have you. Dr. Bodkin bids me send you his love."

It had been no slight effort of self-conquest which had made Minnie Bodkin send for Rhoda, to stay with her at the seaside, and had enabled her to endure the girl's daily presence, and to stand her friend in word and deed, throughout the weeks which succeeded the announcement of Algernon's marriage.

To be kind to Rhoda at a distance would have been pleasant enough. Minnie would willingly, nay, gladly, have served the girl in any way which should not have necessitated frequent personal communion with her. But she told herself unflinchingly that if she really meant to keep her promise to David Powell, she must do so at some cost of self-sacrifice. The only efficacious thing she could do for Rhoda was to take her away from Whitford scenes and Whitford people for a time; to take her out of the reach of gossiping tongues and unsympathising eyes, and to give her the support of a friendly presence when she should be obliged to face Whitford once more. This would be efficacious help to Rhoda; and Minnie resolved to give it to her. But it was a task to which she felt considerable repugnance. There was an invisible barrier between herself and pretty, gentle, winning Rhoda Maxfield.

It is curious to consider of how small importance to most of us actions are, as compared with motives. And perhaps nothing contributes more to hasty accusations of ingratitude than forgetfulness of this truth. We are more affected by what people mean than by what they say, and by what they feel than by what they do. Only when meaning and feeling harmoniously inform the dry husk of words and deeds, can we bring our hearts to receive the latter thankfully, however kind they may sound or seem to uninterested spectators. The egotism of most of us is too exacting to permit of our judging our friends' behaviour from any abstract point of view; and to be done good to for somebody else's sake, or even for the sake of a lofty principle, seldom excites very lively satisfaction.

Thus Rhoda reproached herself for the unaccountable coldness with which she received Miss Bodkin's kindness; having only a dim consciousness that Miss Bodkin's kindness was prompted by motives excellent indeed, but which had little to do with personal sympathy with herself.

She silently handed the letter to her father, and turned away to the window. Mrs. Seth bustled out of the room, saying that she must get ready "a snack of something" for Mr. Maxfield after his drive, and the father and daughter were left alone together.