Helbeck of Bannisdale, vol 2 | Page 4

Polly with Hubert behind her climbed the stairs of the
little house. Polly pushed open the door of the back room, and Hubert
peered over her shoulder.
Inside was a small workman's room, with a fire burning, and the
window wide open. There were tea-things on the table; a canary bird
singing loudly in a cage beside the window; and a suit of man's clothes
with a clean shirt hanging over a chair near the fire.
In a rocking-chair by the window lay the little girl--a child of about
nine years old. She was quite colourless, but she was not crying. Her
eyes still had the look of terror that the sight of the works had called up
in them, and she started at every sound. Laura was kneeling beside her,
trying to make her drink some tea. The child kept pushing the tea away,
but her other hand held fast to Laura's arm. On the further side of the
table sat two elderly women.
"Laura, there's only just time!" said Polly softly, putting her head
through the door.
The child started painfully, and the cup Laura held was with difficulty
saved from falling.
Laura stooped and kissed the little one's cheek.
"Dear, will you let me go now? Mrs. Dixon will take care of you--and
I'll come and see you again soon."
Nelly began to breathe fast. She caught Laura's sleeve with both hands.
"Don't you go, Miss--I'll not stay with her." She nodded towards her
landlady.
"Now, Nelly, you must be a good girl," said Mrs. Dixon, rising and
coming forward--she was a strange, ugly woman, with an almost bald
head--"you must do what your poor papa wud ha wished you to do. Let
the lady go, an I'll take care on you same as one o' my own, till they can
come and take you to the House."
"Oh! don't say that!" cried Laura.
But it was too late. The child had heard the word--had understood it.

She looked wildly from one to the other, then she threw herself against
the side of the chair, in a very madness of crying. Now, she pushed
even Laura away. It seemed as though at the sound of that one word she
had felt herself indeed forsaken, she had become acquainted with her
grief.
Laura's eyes filled with tears.
Polly, standing at the door, spoke to her in vain.
* * * * *
"There's another train--Mr. Seaton said so!" Laura threw the words over
her shoulder as though in anger. Hubert Mason stood behind her. In her
excitement it seemed to her that he was dragging her by force from this
sobbing and shrieking misery before her.
"I don't believe he's right. I never heard of any train later than the 7.10,"
said Mason, in perplexity.
"Go and ask him."
Mason went away and returned.
"Of course he swears there is. You won't get Seaton to say he's
mistaken in a hurry. All I know is I never heard of it."
"He must be right," said Laura obstinately. "Don't trouble about
me--send a cab. Oh!"
She put her hands to her ears for an instant, as they stood by the door,
as though to shut out the child's cries. Hubert looked down upon her,
hesitating, his face flushed, his eyes drawn and sombre.
"Now--you'll let me take you home, Miss Laura? It'll be very late for
you. I can get back to-morrow."
She looked up suddenly.
"No, _no_!" she said, almost stamping. "I can get home alone quite
well. I want no one."
Then she caught the lad's expression--and put her hand to her brow a
moment.
"Come back for me now at any rate--in an hour," she said in another
voice. "Please take me to the train--of course. I must go then."
"Oh, Laura, I _can't_ wait!" cried Polly from the stairs--"I wish I could.
But mother's sending Daffady with the cart--and she'd be that cross."
Laura came out to the stairway.
"Don't wait. Just tell the carriage--mind"--she hung over the banisters,
enforcing the words--"tell them that I'm coming by the later train.

They're not to send down for me again--I can get a cab at the inn. Mind,
Polly,--did you hear?"
She bent forward, caught Polly's assent, and ran back to the child.
* * * * *
An hour later Mason found Laura with little Nelly lying heavily asleep
in her arms. At sight of him she put finger on lip, and, rising, carried
the child to her bed. Tenderly she put her down--tenderly kissed the
little hand. The child's utter sleep seemed to soothe her, for she turned
away with a smile on her blanched lips. She gave money to Mrs. Starr,
who was to nurse the little one for a week, and then, it seemed to