CHAPTER 9.
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"When am I to expect you, Alice?"
This was said by Mrs. Waverly to Alice, as the latter came into her room, holding her bonnet in her hand, on the eve of her departure for the house of Mr. Waverly.
"Very soon," replied the girl.
"Can't you bring the children here tomorrow?"
"I don't know. I may not walk out; and if I should, it is a long way up here, you know."
"Get into an omnibus. That will bring you here in a very few minutes."
"Yes, I could do that," answered Alice, evasively.
"But will you do it?" said Mrs. Waverly, with something imperative in her manner.
"It is hard for me to say, just now, exactly what I will do," replied the girl.
"You can easily say, that if you walk out with the children, you will bring them here. It lies with you, Alice. Will you bring my children, and all difficulties vanish."
Alice stood, with her eyes upon the floor, evidently in great perplexity of mind.
"You are changed to me, from some cause," said Mrs. Waverly, resuming, after a brief silence, and speaking in a reproachful tone of voice. "But, I need not wonder. All the world thinks evil of me, and why should you be an exception?"
The bosom of the girl rose and fell with a strong motion. She still remained with her eyes cast upon the floor.
"Go!" at length said Mrs. Waverly, with a bitterness in her voice which made the girl startle and look up suddenly. "Go! and be on his side. Go, and take the part of the cruel oppressor. My heart is doomed to break — better that it should be now!"
"I will not go!" replied Alice, in a low, firm voice; and, as she spoke, she tossed the bonnet she held in her hand upon a table.
The action caused a sudden change in Mrs. Waverly. She stood looking at the girl for some moments in surprise. "Won't go where?" she at length inquired.
"To Mr. Waverly's," said Alice calmly.
Mrs. Waverly did not ask why, for this was unnecessary. She understood perfectly her meaning. For a few moments, both remained silent and embarrassed. Then Alice lifted her bonnet from the table upon which she had thrown it, and left Mrs. Waverly's room. In doing so, she retired to her own room. As soon as she was alone, she sat down and covered her face with her hands. Thus she remained, buried in deep self-communion, for a long time. At length, lifting her face, which was pale and anxious in its expression, she said, aloud —
"O, that I knew what was best! I wish to serve this poor, unhappy woman; but her impatience will mar everything. If she could only see my heart. As for going into Mr. Waverly's family, and after being entrusted with his children, carry them off, that is impossible for me. It is best, therefore, Mrs. Waverly feeling as she does, that I should not go there. It will only separate us in feeling, and prevent me doing for her what I am so ready to do, if permitted to act in my own way. Why did I ever think of going?"
Such thoughts were passing through the mind of Alice, when Mrs. Waverly entered her room. The face of the latter was composed.
"Did I understand you aright?" said she, calmly. "Are you not going to Mr. Waverly's?"
"I am not going," replied Alice.
"You are not?"
"No, ma'am."
Why this change in your purpose? Are you not under promise to Mr. Waverly?"
"Yes."
"And you are going to break it!"
"Not from choice, but of necessity."
"How so?"
"We cannot serve two masters."
"You speak strangely."
"My meaning ought to be clear. I cannot serve both the father and the mother, when they are divided and in opposition. I cannot be faithful to you — and to him also. Whatever pledge I give Mrs. Waverly — to that I must and will be faithful. I should have thought of this before. But now, all I can do, is to chose the least of two evils. The least is, to break my word to Mr. Waverly."
"Don't say that, Alice. You must go there." Mrs. Waverly spoke earnestly, yet without excitement.
"What will it avail? If Mr. Waverly commits his children into my hands — I cannot give them to you. That will be impossible. My wish is to aid in getting them into your possession; why, then, interpose such a barrier to the accomplishment of our wishes?"
"But if you cannot do this yourself, Alice, you can, as it were, turn your eyes away — can be off your guard, and thus afford me an opportunity to carry them away myself."
Alice shook her head slowly, as she replied —
"Nothing of that can be done, Mrs. Waverly. It is impossible. I could not be off of my guard. When once the children were committed to my care by Mr. Waverly, my utmost vigilance would guard them."
The mother did not make any reply for some time.
"No matter," at length she said. "I want you to go there. Another has ill-treated my children, and the thought deeply distresses me. You will be kind to them — and in your care they must be. I can wait longer. Something will, I trust, turn up soon in my favor. If you cannot help me to get my children — then you can guard them until they are once more in their mother's protecting arms. O, yes, you must go, Alice. I will hear to nothing less."
Alice made no response to this; and Mrs. Waverly continued:
"You must forgive me if I have seemed harsh to you — if I have spoken without reason. Ah, you can never understand fully how bitter was my disappointment, when you declared your intention not to restore my children to me. It seemed as if I could not bear it. The first pangs of that disappointment are over now. My mind is clearer, and I cansee — even if unwilling to feel — that you are right."
Alice startled at the last word, and looked up, while a sudden light played over her countenance.
"Right did you say, Mrs. Waverly?" she exclaimed.
"Yes, Alice, right. I see it plainly."
"And you feel that I am still true to you?"
"I know it, and feel it, Alice," was replied.
"Then command me in anything — anything that I can do with a clear conscience," said the girl.
"Go to Mr. Waverly's," returned the lady. "Go now, according to your promise. It will be a great relief for me to know that you are with my children. O, be kind, be tender to them, Alice! If consistent with your duty to their father, bring them to see their mother, and do so with as little delay as possible. Feel for me, Alice, and let me look upon their faces right speedily."
"Think well of this, ma'am," said Alice, speaking in a serious tone of voice. "I am on your side now, and prepared to risk all and to do all for you. But from the moment I enter the house of Mr. Waverly, I come under new obligations. I then, in a measure, go over to his side."
"But not in heart, Alice. I understand that."
"O, no, ma'am. Not in heart — not in heart. I merely submit to bonds."
"Which can be broken at any time — in a week, a month, or even in a day."
"I need not remain there, you mean?"
"Yes. But go now. It is best for the present. Time will show what is next to be done."
Alice was at a loss to comprehend the meaning of this unlooked for and entire change in Mrs. Waverly; and many doubts came into her mind as to its entire sincerity. For some time she hesitated as to what was best to do.
"If you really wish me to go, ma'am," she at length said, "I will not refuse."
"O, yes. Go by all means," was the mother's reply. "I desire you to do so above all things. The way for you to go to my children is open; let nothing hinder your walking therein. Providence will indicate what next should be done. I will trust in my innocence, in my rights, and in God's justice. I will say to my poor, eager heart, be still. I will wait patiently my appointed time. O, yes, go, Alice, and go now."
Thus urged, the girl took up the bonnet she had tossed from her on entering the room, and placed it upon her head, saying, as she made a movement to leave the room.
"If you think it best."
"When shall I see you?" asked Mrs. Waverly, concealing, with a struggle, much of the eager impatience she felt.
"Within two days," replied the girl.
"Not tomorrow evening?"
"I may not be able to see you then. But, on the night after, I will certainly be here."
Mrs. Waverly looked earnestly into the girl's face, while more than one question trembled on her tongue. But, she held back her feelings, and merely said, with forced calmness,
"The earliest moment will seem an age to me. Don't forget that, Alice!"
"I will not forget it," replied the girl, as she turned away and left the room.
Mrs. Waverly listened, with her body bent forward, until she heard the street door shut, and then she covered her face and sank, sobbing, into a chair.
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