Christine - Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr (the kiss of deception read online TXT) 📗

/> "I surely do mean just that. I give them to you with all my heart and you look like a Norse princess in them. Come, give me a kiss for the boa, and a kiss for the muff, and we will call the gift square."

Then Roberta kissed Christine and they laughed a sweet, gay little laugh together. And Christine said, "I hae always wanted a sister. Now I hae gotten one weel to my liking! And O, the bonnie furs! The bonnie furs! They suit me fine, Roberta! They suit me fine!" and she smiled at herself in the little mirror, and was happy, beyond expression.

"You are as happy as if you had found a fortune, Christine!"

"I hae found mair than a fortune, Roberta! I hae found a sister! I wasna looking for such good luck to come to me!"

"That is the way good luck comes--always as a surprise. We watch for it on the main road, and it just slips round a corner." Then Roberta took Christine by the hand, and they went to the living-room, and Christine began to wash her teacups, and as she laid them dripping on the tray, Roberta took the towel and wiped them dry.

"You shouldna do that, Roberta."

"Why not, Christine?"

"It isna wark for you."

"While Father lived, I always washed the china beside him. Then he read the newspaper, and we had happy talks. We were plain-living folk, until Father died. Then Reggie and I set up for quality. We had the money, and Reggie had quality friends, and I thought it would be fine."

"Do you think it is fine?"

"It is no better than it is spoken of. Christine, can you guess what brought me here?"

"Did you get a letter I wrote Neil?"

"Yes."

"Then I know why you came."

"Neil had just left for London. You asked for no delay. So I brought the money, Christine, and I had the Bank calculate the proper amount of interest for four years, at five per cent."

"There was no interest asked. There is none due. I didna lend a' the money I had on interest, but on love."

"Then here is the money, Christine, and I must thank you for Neil, for the long credit you have given him."

"I havena been needing the siller until now, but now it is a real salvation."

Christine put the money in her breast, and then together they put the cleansed china in its proper place. Just as they finished this duty, a little handbell tinkled, and Christine said,

"That is Mither's call. Let us go to her."

"Mither, dear Roberta is here. She has come to see you." And the young woman stood looking into the old woman's face, and in a moment something inarticulate passed between them. They smiled at each other, and Roberta stooped and kissed the white, worn face. There needed no further explanation. In a few minutes the three women were conversing in the most intimate and cheerful manner. To her mother, Christine appeared to be rather silent. Margot wished she would be more effusive, and she exerted herself to make up for Christine's deficiency in this respect. But the release from great anxiety often leaves the most thankful heart apparently quiet, and apparently indifferent. Many who have prayed fervently for help, when the help comes have no words on their tongues to speak their gratitude. Flesh and spirit are exhausted, before the Deliverer they are speechless. Then He who knoweth our infirmities speaks for us.

To make what dinner she could, and put the house in order was then Christine's duty, and she went about it, leaving Roberta with Margot. They soon became quite at ease with each other, and Christine could hear them laughing at their own conversation. After awhile they were very quiet, and Christine wondered if her mother had again become sleepy. On the contrary, she found Margot more alive and more interested than she had seen her since her husband's death.

There was a crochet needle between them, and they were both absorbed in what it was doing. Crochet was then a new thing on the earth, as far as England and Scotland was concerned; and at this date it was the reigning womanly fad. Margot had seen and dreamed over such patterns of it as had got into magazines and newspapers, but had never seen the work itself. Now Roberta was teaching her its easy stitches, and Margot, with all a child's enthusiasm, was learning.

"Look, Christine," she cried. "Look, Christine, at the bonnie wark I am learning! It is the crochet wark. We hae read about it, ye ken, but see for yoursel'. Look, lassie," and she proudly held out a strip of the first simple edging.

The three women then sat down together, and there was wonder and delight among them. A bit of fine, delicate crochet now gets little notice, but then it was a new sensation, and women thought they lacked an important source of pleasure, if they went anywhere without the little silk bag holding their crochet materials. Roberta had crocheted in the train, as long as it was light, and she fully intended to crochet all day, as she sat talking to her new relations.

Margot could knit blindfolded, she learned by some native and natural instinct. In two days she would have been able to teach Roberta.

There was a simple dinner of baked fish, and a cup of tea, and Christine beat an egg in a cup and was going to carry it to Margot, when Roberta stayed her. "Does she like it in that sloppy way?" she asked.

"Weel, it is for her good. She has to like it."

"We can make it far nicer. See here," and Roberta beat the egg in the cupful of milk, added a little sugar, and placed it in the oven. In a few minutes it was a solid, excellent custard, and Margot enjoyed it very much. "I ne'er liked raw food," she said, "and raw egg isna any more eatable than raw fish, or raw meat."

In the afternoon the Domine and Jamie came in, and Roberta won his heart readily with her gay good nature and thoughtful kindness to the sick woman. He had put a letter into Christine's hand, as he came in and said to her, "Go your ways ben, and read it, but say naething to your mither anent its contents. Later I'll give you good reasons for this."

So Christine went away, and opened her letter, and there fell from it a five-pound note. And the letter was from a great magazine, and it said the money was for the "Fisherman's Prayer" and he would be very glad if she would write him more about fishers. There were also a few pleasant words of praise, but Christine's eyes were full of happy tears, she could not read them. What she did was to lay the letter and the money on her bed, and kneel down beside it, and let her silence and her tears thank the God who had helped her. "I was brought low and He helped me," she whispered, as she bathed her eyes and then went back to the company.

Such a happy afternoon followed! The Domine was in a delightful mood, Jamie recited for the first time "How Horatio Kept the Bridge," and Margot was as busy as her weak, old fingers would let her be. With the Domine's approval, Christine showed her letter to Roberta, and they, too, held a little triumph over the good, clever girl, for it was not vanity that induced her confidence, it was that desire for human sympathy, which even Divinity feels, or He would not ask it, and Himself prompt its offering.

Soon after five o'clock they had a cup of tea together, and Roberta's cab was waiting, and the fortunate day was over. Roberta was sorry to go away. She said she had had one of the happiest days of her life. She left her own little silk crochet bag with Margot, and gave her gladly her pretty silver hook with its ivory handle, and the cotton she had with her. She said she would send hooks of different sizes, and the threads necessary for them, and also what easy patterns she could find.

She went away amid smiles and blessings, and the Domine and Jamie went with her. They would see her safely to her hotel, they said, but she would not part with them so early. She entreated them to dine and spend the evening with her. And so they did. And their talk was of Christine, of her love and patience, and her night-and-day care. Even her orderly house and personal neatness were duly praised.

Roberta left for her Glasgow home, early on the following morning, and arrived at Monteith Row a little wearied, but quite satisfied with the journey she had taken. What the result to herself would be, she could hardly imagine. But its uncertainty kept her restless. She had resolved to clean and prepare the house for winter, during her husband's absence, but she could not do it. A woman needs a stiff purpose in her heart, when she pulls her home to pieces. If anything is going to happen, it usually chooses such a time of discomfort and disorder.

She found it far more pleasant to select crochet hooks and cotton for Margot and herself. She sent the Domine a book that she knew would be acceptable, and to Jamie she sent a Rugby School pocket-knife, containing not only the knives, but the other little tools a boy finds so necessary. To Christine she sent a large, handsome portfolio, and such things as a person addicted to writing poetry requires. She could settle to nothing, for indeed she felt her position to be precarious. She knew that she could not live a day with Neil, unless he was able to account satisfactorily for his theft--she called it theft to herself--of the first ninety pounds.

Neil had promised to be home in a week, but it was two weeks ere he returned. He said business had detained him, and what can a woman say to "business"? It appears to cover, and even cancel, all other obligations. If there had been any tendency in Roberta's heart to excuse, or even to forgive her husband, he killed the feeling by his continual excuses for delay. The lawyer who had accompanied him was home. What was Neil doing in London, when the principal in the case had returned?

At last she received particular instructions as to the train by which he would arrive. She took no notice of them, though it had been her custom to meet him. He was a little cross at this neglect, and more so, when the sound of his peremptory ring at the door brought only a servant to open it. He did not ask after her, and she did not appear, so he gave his valise to the servant, with orders to take it into the dining room. "I suppose your mistress is there?" he asked. He was told she was there, and he added, "Inform her that I am in my room preparing for dinner, and order the cook to serve it at once."

Roberta saw the valise brought in, and she made no inquiries concerning it. She saw the dinner brought on, and she seated herself in her place at the table, and drew the chair holding the valise almost to her side. Then she waited.

Neil entered the room immediately. She did not turn her face to the door when it opened.