Tamsin was running her fingers along the bottom of her apron in a sort of diffident way altogether unusual with her. “If it’s only a question of expense, Miss Jane, that can soon be got over,” she said. “As it happens, I’ve a matter of sixty pounds put away in the savings bank, not a penny of which will ever be the least bit of use to me—having neither chick nor child to leave it to. Take it, Miss Jane; it has been saved up out of the wages paid me by you and your sister. Take it and give the poor child the holiday she needs so sorely.”
Rarely had Jane Thursby looked more distressed and perturbed than she did just then, and yet in her cheeks there was a delicate flush which for the passing moment made her seem almost a girl again. “How dare you, Tamsin, even to hint at such a thing!” she exclaimed in a voice which she vainly strove to render severe.
Then her lips began to tremble and a moisture shone in her eyes. Turning suddenly and laying a hand on each of Tamsin’s shoulders, she said with a quaver in her voice: “You foolish but generous-hearted creature, cannot you see—cannot you understand how impossible it is that my sister and I should accept any such offer?”
“No, Miss Jane, with all deference to you, I can neither see nor understand why it should be so. The money was yours to begin with, and if you don’t have it before, it will come back to you when I’m dead and gone. I arranged that with Lawyer Tullock half a year agone. It’s only a trifle, I know, but it’s enough to pay for a month or two at the seaside; and to what better use could it be put, I should like to know, than in helping to bring back the roses to Miss Ethel’s cheeks. So do you and Miss Matilda just put your pride in your pocket and take it with an old woman’s blessing!”
“Oh no, we cannot, we cannot—God bless you all the same!” cried Miss Jane. “Of course I shall at once consult my sister, but I feel quite sure that in such a matter her sentiments will thoroughly coincide with my own.”
Two vivid spots of red flamed out in Tamsin’s cheeks. “And can you and Miss Matilda reconcile it to your consciences to sit down with folded hands and watch the poor child grow thinner and paler with every day that breaks, when the means by which health and strength might be given back to her are within your reach?” demanded the old woman in accents such as Miss Jane had never before heard from her lips. “Can you doubt the child was lent you so as to bring a sunshine into your lives which, but for her, you would never have known? And can you doubt that one day an account will be demanded of you by the Lender? When that day comes, what will your answer be?”
Without a word more Tamsin turned on her heel and flinging her apron up to her face, a sure sign that she was deeply moved, walked slowly out of the room, leaving Miss Jane like one petrified.
Miss Matilda happened to be from home at the time, but she had not been five minutes in the house before her sister was pouring into her ears an account of the morning’s interview.
“Nothing could justify Tamsin in speaking to you as she did,” said Miss Matilda with a highly offended air, when Miss Jane had come to an end. “It was most reprehensible on her part. She knows that she is privileged and she presumes on the fact. I agree with you that it is quite out of the question that we should accept her offer.”
“But what if the dear girl is really pining and losing her appetite, as Tamsin states?” queried Miss Jane.