Her voice rang out clear and strong. Everyone in the great room heard. Poor Beth was frightened so that she could not speak. People came crowding closer. Eliza and Dr. Hillis, fearing that something had happened to Beth, hurried forward. There stood Mrs. Laurens clutching Beth’s hands and crying out, “The rings! The rings are mine. I must know where you got them, child.”
Dr. Hillis was the first to understand. He came to them. “You and Beth come with me into this little private parlor. We can explain better there.” Taking them by the arm, he led them away. “Come with us,” he said to Eliza. She followed. The door closed upon them, and there the explanation was given.
Very simple of course it was. Mrs. Laurens was Beth’s mother, to be sure. It was as clear as could be when one knew it.
When Beth was a baby, Mrs. Laurens had taken her to Florida where Mr. Laurens had undertaken heavy contracts. She had with her Bena Benson, a Swedish servant who had been with the family for years and who dearly loved Beth.
Mr. Laurens was taken ill during the winter and was in the hospital. A few weeks later, his wife was taken with the same low-running fever. The physician forbade their being moved north to their home. The little child could not be left in a hotel in a servant’s care. There was a risk in staying in the infected region. The only thing to be done was to send the child and nurse north to friends.
Mrs. Laurens wore several rings which had come down to her from her mother’s people. She was ill in the hospital. Fearing that the rings might be lost, she instructed Bena to take them home with her. At Baltimore, the Swedish woman had become confused. She asked for information as to the best way to “Yamestown,” as she called it. Her pronunciation was foreign. Instead of selling her a ticket and checking her baggage to the right destination, the man in his hurry misunderstood and sent her hundreds of miles out of her way. She had realized her mistake when the train reached Farwell. She had left the train there and was walking to the Lehigh station in the hope of returning to Baltimore.
Weeks had passed before Mr. and Mrs. Laurens heard of her. They were too ill to be conscious of the lapse of time. When they began the search all trace was lost, even the newspaper accounts had gone astray.
————
So Miss Eliza lost Beth after all. I think not. We can never really lose those we love and those who love us. They are always ours.
She slipped away, leaving the mother and daughter together. She could not face the people in the drawing-room. She slipped into the open corridor, where the palms hid her from view and the lights were low. Here she stood leaning against the heavy columns which supported the ceiling.