Arabella | Page 8

two things
that the Sisters had kept for the purpose of identifyin' her. When he
asked me if I had got them clothes, I made answer that I had them that
didn't wear out in the natural course of things. He asked then, cautious
like, if I'd got any bit of jewelry, and after hemmin' and hawin' a little I
owned that I'd a locket. He wanted to know if there were any marks on
it, and at last I told him that there were three, A. R. A., which made me
call the girl 'Arabella.' He laughed at that, and then he told me that he
had some good news for the girl, and like as not for me, too, and that
we'd hear from him in a day or two. I didn't ask him any more
questions, for it ain't my way to pry into other folks' consarns."
"And you didn't find out what the good news was?" the little woman
inquired, with glistening eyes and bated breath. "Why, the child might
be-- anybody."
"Well, we found out a good deal more since then," Mrs. Christie
declared, shortly, as if the news were not altogether pleasing to her. It
seems that the girl's father had married against his father's consent, and

both himself and his young wife had died when their baby was only a
few months old. The neighbors, not knowing what to do with the infant,
sent it off to the Foundling Asylum with the clothes and the locket and
some writing, to tell all they knew about the business. Well, the
grandfather, when he found he was goin' to die, got sorry for what he'd
done, and made a will, leaving a big pile of money to that there child,
provided it was still livin' and could be found. Detectives got on to the
story, and they traced Arabella to our house, and it seems she's got
folks right here in New York, big bugs over on Fifth Avenue."
Alicia drew in her breath sharply. Her face was aglow. All the romance
of her nature was up and astir.
"And her name ain't Arabella at all," added Mrs. Christie, "though
Arabella I'll call her as long as I have anything to do with her."
"Isn't it wonderful!" cried the little woman. "Isn't it just like stories we
read?"
"Well, I don't know as I ever read a story like that," Mrs. Christie
dissented. "I ain't much of a reader, anyway, and I don't hold much with
stories. Trash, they mostly is."
"And Arabella is really rich? An heiress?"
"Yes, jest about that. She's got a heap of money and a lot of rich
relations."
Mrs. Christie relapsed into silence after she had said that, her ordinarily
dull face expressive of some powerful emotion.
"And how did you feel when you heard everything?" the sister asked.
"Well, I was kinder set up at first," Mrs. Christie acknowledged. "It was
most as if a fortune had been left to myself, and I began to think of
things the money might get for me and for the house."
"Oh!" said Alicia, as if she were disappointed.

"Then," continued Mrs. Christie, "I began to remember that she'd got
them rich relations, who would most likely take her away, and-- " She
stopped, staring into the fire, while her sister watched her eagerly.
"I jest wish they wouldn't," she declared.
"Because of the things?" the little woman asked in a low voice; then,
impulsively laying her hand on her sister's arm, "Surely not on account
of the things?"
"No," replied Mrs. Christie, "though it's natural that I'd hanker after
them. But it ain't that, Alicia. It ain't that."
Alicia brightened up.
"It's kind o' lonesome down to the old place now. Silas Christie's
beginnin' to put on the old man and he never was very lively at the best
of times, and I ain't as young as I used to be, and I hate strangers 'round.
Arabella, she's a good girl, and I'm fond of her, and I don't want to see
her go away. So there."
She ended up defiantly, her rugged face working, and a sudden burst of
tears -- the first she had shed in many years-- shaking her stony
composure as a storm shakes the trees of the woods.
Alicia watched her in silence, wiping away sympathetic tears from her
own eyes, and when the outburst of grief had spent itself she threw two
little arms around her big sister's neck.
"I always knew you had a kind heart, Catherine," she said, "though you
never were one to show your feelings."
And as Catherine Christie wiped her eyes and sniffled, striving by
every means to regain her composure, and as Alicia smiled through her
tears like the sun