“Ugh!” said Tom, with a grimace which twisted every feature out of recognition. “No, surely, Evie, you will never condescend to that! You lie low for a bit and get strong, and keep up your classics, and I’ll see if I can’t find you some coaching to do among the girls I meet. If you could get along that way for a few years it would be all right, for I shall be settled by that time and able to look after you. You shall be my secretary, dear, and have a jolly little den to yourself, where I can take refuge when the girls get too much for me. We could be very happy together, you and I, couldn’t we, and grow into two nice, contented old maids, with too much to do to have time to envy our neighbours?”
She fixed her bright little eyes on Evie’s face as she asked the question, and to her horror and dismay Evie felt the colour rush to her cheeks and mount higher and higher in a crimson tide which refused to be restrained by the most desperate mental efforts. How idiotic to blush at nothing—how senseless, how humiliating, and how quite too ridiculous of Tom to turn aside and stare at the opposite side of the room in that ostentatious manner! Evie felt inclined to shake her, but at that opportune moment Rhoda returned, and during the remainder of Tom’s visit there was no opportunity for private confidences.
Once more Rhoda accompanied her friend to the station, and waited anxiously for the word which would surely be said concerning the escapade which had cost so dear, but, like Evie, she was obliged to introduce the subject herself.
“Have you nothing to say to me, Tom?” she asked wistfully. “I haven’t seen you since—you know when—but, of course, you heard how it happened. It was all my fault. What are you going to say to me about it?”
“Why, nothing, Fuzz!” said Tom, turning her little eyes upon the quivering face with a tenderness of expression which would have been a revelation to casual acquaintances who believed Miss Bolderston incapable of the softer emotions. “Why should I? You have said it all to yourself a hundred times better than I could have done, and who am I that I should make myself a ruler or a judge over you?”
“But she is lame, you know!” said Rhoda, sadly. “Nurse says the knee is stronger than she expected, but even so she will always limp. Imagine Evie limping! She was such a graceful little thing, and tripped about so lightly, and she was so proud of her little feet—I have spoiled her future too, for she can never take such a good post again. I have ruined her whole life.”
“We will discuss that point ten years later; it is too early to decide it yet. Many things happen that we do not expect,” remarked Tom sagely, whereat Rhoda shook her head in hopeless fashion.
“I cannot imagine anything happening that would make this any better—on the contrary, Tom, it has made me realise how little help one can give, and what a fraud money is when it comes to the test. I used to imagine that I could do pretty nearly everything I wanted because I was rich, but look at Evie! I would give my life to help her, but beyond a few trumpery presents, and a little lightening of pain, what can I do? She would not accept more, and one dare not offer it, though if she would allow it we would be thankful to pension her off for life. Money can’t do everything I see!”
“That’s a good thing! Let’s be thankful for that, at least. It’s worth something to have learned that lesson,” cried Tom cheerily, and for the rest of the way to the station she talked resolutely on indifferent subjects, refusing to be drawn back to the one sad topic. Only when the last good-bye was said did she soften into tenderness, actually allowing herself to be kissed without protest, and saying hurriedly in a low, half-shamed voice:
“Good-bye, Fuzzy. Bless you! Never say die. Sometimes, you know, it takes a big thing to open one’s eyes. Keep straight ahead from where you are now, and you’ll have no more tumbles.” Then the train moved off and Rhoda lost the last glimpse of her friend in a mist of tears. Dear Tom! Dear, blunt, kindly, honest Tom; what a strength she had been to all who knew her—what a strength she was going to be to generations of girls to come! Rhoda looked forward into the future and prophesied to herself that she would know no prouder boast than that she had been one of Tom Bolderston’s girls, and had been brought up under her rule!