“Mr. Sinclair?” she said stupidly. “We owe all this to him?”
“Yes, indeed,” he said. “He arranged an introduction when I was in London for a few days before I took up myappointment here. He explained then that he was interestedin my career as I was to succeed a friend of his as vicar inthis parish. And he told me that if I ever needed money toaid the poor of the area I was to apply to him. I remembered what he had said when you and I had our dream ofthe school a year or so ago and I wrote to him. I did notreally expect that he would be interested in such an ambitious and expensive scheme, but he was. He knew youtoo, he said, and seemed convinced that you would be anexcellent teacher. He agreed to give as much help as weneeded provided no one but I knew of his involvement. Iam sure he did not really mean you too, Rebecca. Now,especially, I have wanted you to know so that you mightshow him your gratitude.”
Rebecca finally broke eye contact with him and looked down at the valise that she clutched in her hands. “Yes,”she said, “I am glad that you told me, Philip. It is rightthat I should know. I shall have to find an opportunitybefore he leaves to speak with him.”
Philip excused himself soon after. He still had several visits and errands to accomplish before the afternoon wasover. Rebecca was left alone with her bewilderment. Christopher the unknown benefactor of the school! It made no sense at all. She had seen during the past few weeks that he was not the selfish, greedy man that she had expected him to be. But she had assumed that the change back to the way he had used to be was of a very recent date. Yet he had sought Philip out several years ago for the express purposeof offering his help to the needy in his own birthplace.
Several years ago! And it had been no empty gesture. He had given more than generously on the first occasionhe had been applied to. And it had been no minor charitythat would have made almost no dent at all in his pocket-book. He had provided them with a building as well as allthe furnishings and equipment for their school.
She could not even explain his behavior by imagining that it had all been a showy gesture to impress the neighborhood. He had wanted no one to know. Unlike Philip,she was convinced that he had not wanted even her toknow. If he had, he had had ample opportunity to tell herin the past few weeks. Yet he had not breathed a word.And he had made it seem as if Cyril’s eyeglasses had beenall Philip’s idea and doing.
The mystery of the last seven years was becoming more and more puzzling. Indeed, until recently she had not evenrealized that there was a mystery. He had merely seemed aweak man who had given in to the temptations of greed.The explanation could still hold, she realized. A man who gave in to temptation did not necessarily change his wholecharacter as a result. She supposed it had been rather naiveof her to imagine that suddenly, almost overnight, as itwere, Christopher had turned from a loving, caring humanbeing into a selfish, avaricious monster.
She would just have to face the truth of the fact that his love for her had not been strong. It had been a pleasantflirtation. He had probably even intended to marry her. Itmight have been a reasonably successful marriage. But hisvisit to London had opened his eyes to the kind of life thathe could live if he only had money. And suddenly it hadall been within his grasp. Giving up the woman he hadloved to a moderate degree must have seemed a smallsacrifice to make for all the rewards of life with anotherwoman who had the attraction of being rich. That must be it.
I loved you, Becky, with the whole of my being.
He had said that to her at the castle. Were those the words of a man who had loved only moderately?
My life came to an end the day I left you. I have lived in hell since then.
Were those the feelings of a man who did not know what deep emotion was?
Rebecca jerked the valise off the table as if by mistreating this inanimate object she might satisfy all her frustrated feelings, and made for the door. This was surely the worstsummer of her life. She was very thankful that it wasalmost at an end. She made her way to the stables at theback of the parsonage, where her uncle’s horse and gighad spent the day. She had been forced to bring theconveyance today because she had known that she wouldhave a heavy load to carry home.
Harriet was almost back to normal again. Dr. Gamble had instructed that she was to keep her foot off the floorfor another week, but there was no keeping her down onceshe could get to her feet without screaming in agony. Atfirst she took short walks around the garden, leaning heavily on Mr. Bartlett’s always available arm. But the daybefore she had crossed to the stables, had her mare saddled, and gone riding triumphantly off with her usualfaithful companion.
Rebecca was surprised, in fact, to find her at home after the school had closed. She came marching into Rebecca’sroom almost on her heels. Rebecca could see immediatelythat she was in high dudgeon about something.
“Papa is just going to have to choose between me and that woman,” she blurted without any preamble. “Thereis not room in this house for both of us.”
These words were not a mystery to one who had lived in the house for several years. “What has poor Maude donenow?” Rebecca asked mildly, untying the ribbons of herstraw bonnet and tossing it onto the bed.
“Poor Maude!” said Harriet. “She is an upstart and a fortune hunter, that is what she is. And she thinks she canpose as my mama. The absurdity of it, Rebecca! She isonly three years older than I am. It is even more ludicrousthan your trying to tell me what to do. Thank goodnessyou never try, at least.”
“If I do not, Harriet,” Rebecca said, “it is because I know I should be only wasting my breath. Do sit down if youplan to stay. And not on that stool, please. I wish to sitbefore the mirror to brush my hair. What has Maude done?”
“She has asked Stanley to leave, that is what,” Harrietsaid. “Her own brother! And when I expressly invited himto stay and told her so, she told me that she is mistress inthis house and my wishes on the topic were not to beconsulted. Imagine! This is my house, Rebecca, not hers.The nerve of the woman! And when I was going to go toPapa to tell him that Stanley was to stay because it is mywish, she forbade me to go to his room. My own papa!She said he is too sick to be pestered—pestered! Everyoneknows that Papa is never sick. He merely pretends because helikes attention and does not like to exert himself to get up.”
Harriet finally stopped for breath. Stanley, Rebeccathought. Was he Stanley now?”
“I am sorry if Maude has asked her brother to leave,” she said. ‘‘But, you know, Harriet, she has every right todo so. He has been here for several weeks, and she is verybusy now with your father. I am sure she is feeling wearyand finding the burden of entertaining just too much tocope with.”
“Stuff!” Harriet said. “How could Stanley be any trouble to Maude or anyone else? You speak as if she has to do all the cooking for him and the extra washing and everything else. She is afraid that I will marry him, that’s what,Rebecca, and that I will have children. Then Papa willagain love me more than he loves her—though I think healready does, anyway. I don’t think Maude can have children. At least she has shown no sign of increasing sinceshe has been married to Papa. Now she is jealous. Shedoes not wish to see me married.”
“Harriet,” Rebecca said, removing several hairpins from her mouth in order to speak, “slow down. Surely there isno question of your marrying Mr. Bartlett anyway, isthere?”
“And why not, pray?” Harriet asked tartly. “I am sure he is more of a gentleman than Mr. Christopher Sinclair orJulian or any of the other suitors I have had.”
“Indeed,” Rebecca said. “I agree that Mr. Bartlett has very superior manners and is excessively amiable. I havejust been taken by surprise. I had not thought of him interms of a suitor for you.”
“You think him too poor, no doubt,” Harriet said. “It is true he has little money and no prospects. And he doesnot try to hide the fact. And it is not his idea that weshould be wed. He says it would not be the thing at all. ButI do not care a fig about money, Rebecca. I have enoughfor both of us.”
Rebecca removed the pins from her mouth again. She had not touched her hair with the brush since she had putthem back there. “Harriet,” she said faintly, “if Mr.Bartlett has not had the idea of marrying you, how did thesubject come up between you?”
“Oh,” Harriet said, “He said that it would be the dearest wish of his heart to offer for me, but he cannot. Heis really a tragic figure, you know, Rebecca. He onceloved another. But she died. And now I have helped himrecover from his loss. He really is quite handsome, is henot, despite his red hair and his rather short stature?”Rebecca was beginning to understand why Maude wastrying to remove her brother from the house. It was truethat he was an amiable man and that he would probablymake Harriet a tolerable husband. He would be indulgent,anyway. But Uncle Humphrey would not see it as a goodmatch. He expected greater things for his only daughter.Maude must be living in terror of his finding out about thebudding romance and blaming her. It really was a pity, butRebecca could sympathize.
“And is Mr. Bartlett going to leave?” she asked. Harriet scowled.
