“It will be necessary to tell you everything from the beginning, or you will not understand it,” said Alice. “Papa did not do exactly as Arthur thought right in some things; and though I did not think myself a judge, I—I took Arthur’s side; and then Mrs. Meredith came to Maltby suddenly with the children. It was a great surprise to us, for we did not know till that moment that papa had married again. I would rather not say anything about Mrs. Meredith,” said Alice, showing a little agitation, “but Arthur did not think she was a person whom I could stay with; and, when he had to leave himself he brought me with him. Indeed, I wanted very much to come. I could not bear that he should go away by himself; and I should have died had I been left there with papa, and everything so changed. I wrote after we left, but papa would not answer my letter, nor take any notice of us. I am very sorry, but I cannot help it. That is all. I suppose you heard of Mrs. Meredith’s letter to Mr. Lauderdale. My aunt is in India—so I could not go to her; and all the rest are dead; that is why I have stayed here.”
“It is very sad to think you should be so lonely,” said the clergyman, “and it is a very trying position for one so young. Still there are families in Rome that would have received you; and I think, my dear Miss Meredith—you must not suppose me harsh—it is only your good I am thinking of; I think you should yourself have communicated with your father.”
“I wrote to Aunt Mary,” said Alice. “I told her everything. I thought she would be sure to advise me for the best. But papa would not answer the letter I wrote him after we left home, and he refuses to have anything to do with me in Mr. Lauderdale’s letter. I do not understand what I can do more.”
“But you have not waited to be advised,” said the English priest, whose wife had taken the poor little culprit’s hand, and was whispering to her, “Compose yourself, my dear,” and “We are your friends,” and “Mr. —— only means it for your good,” with other such scraps of consolation. Alice scarcely needed the first exhortation, having, in a large degree, that steady power of self-control which is one of the most valuable endowments in the world. “You have not waited for your Aunt’s advice,” continued the clergyman. “Indeed, I confess it is very hard to blame you; but still it is a very serious step to take, and one that a young creature like you should not venture upon without the advice of her friends. Mr. Campbell also is very young, and you cannot have known each other very long.”
“All the winter,” said Alice, with a faint colour, for affairs were too serious for ordinary blushing; “at least all the spring, ever since we left England. And it has not been common knowing,” she added, with a deepening flush. “He and Mr. Lauderdale were like brothers to Arthur—they nursed him night and day; they nursed him better than I did,” said the poor sister, bursting forth into natural tears. “The people we have known all our lives were never so good to us. He said at the very last that they were to take care of me; and they have taken care of me,” said Alice, among her sobs, raised for a moment beyond herself by her sense of the chivalrous guardianship which had surrounded her, “as if I had been a queen.”
“My dear child, lean upon me,” said the lady sitting by; “don’t be afraid of us; don’t mind crying, it will be a relief to you. Mr. —— only means it for your good; he does not intend to vex you, dear.”
“Certainly not, certainly not,” said the clergyman, taking a little walk to the window, as men do in perplexity; and then he came back and drew his seat closer, as Alice regained the mastery over herself. “My dear young lady, have confidence in me. Am I to understand that it is from gratitude you have made up your mind to accept Mr. Campbell? Don’t hesitate. I beg of you to let me know the truth.”
The downcast face of Alice grew crimson suddenly to the hair; and then she lifted her eyes, not to the man who was questioning her, but to the woman who sat beside her. Those eyes were full of indignant complaint and appeal. “Can you, a woman, stand by and see the heart of another woman searched for its secret?” That was the utterance of Alice’s look; and she made no further answer, but turned her head partly away, with an offended pride which sat strangely and yet not unbecomingly upon her. The change was so marked that the reverend questioner got up from his chair again almost as confused as Alice, and his wife, instinctively replying to the appeal made to her, took the matter into her own hands.
“If you will wait for me below, George, I will join you by-and-by,” said this good woman. “Men must not spy into women’s secrets.” And “I have daughters of my own,” she added softly in Alice’s ear. Let us thank heaven, that, though the number of those be few who are able or disposed to do great things for their fellows, the number is many who are ready to respond to an actual call for sympathy when it is made to them, and to own the universal kindred. It was not an everlasting friendship that these two English women, left alone in the bare Italian chamber, formed for each other. The one who was a mother did not receive the orphan permanently into her breast, neither did the girl find a parent in her new friend. Yet for the moment nature found relief for itself; they were mother and child, though strangers to each other. The elder woman heard with tears, and sympathy, and comprehension, the other’s interrupted tale, and gave her the kiss which in its way was more precious than a lover’s. “You have done nothing wrong, my poor child,” the pitying woman said, affording an absolution more valuable than any priest’s to the girl’s female soul; and as she spoke there passed momentarily through the mind of the visitor a rapid, troubled enumeration of the rooms in her “apartment,” which involved the possibility of carrying this friendless creature home with her. But that idea was found impracticable almost as soon as conceived. “I wish I could take you home with me, my dear,” the good woman said, with a sigh; “but our rooms are so small; but I will talk it all over with Mr. ——, and see what can be done; and I should like to know more of Mr. Campbell after all you tell me; he must be a very superior young man. You may be sure we shall be your friends, both your friends, whatever happens. I should just like to say a word to the woman of the house, and tell her to take good care of you, my dear, before I go.”
“Sora Antonia is very kind,” said Alice.