Keeping up Appearances CHAPTER 18.
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A month elapsed, during which one article after another had been sold, in order to get the means of procuring needful supplies of food. Annetta bent over her work early and late, until her cheek grew pale and her eye lost its brightness, and Mrs. Laurie wearied herself daily with household tasks.
"It is all useless," said Annetta, looking up with a sad face from her work, and replying to some word from her mother. "It is a toil and a struggle to no good purpose. Mr. Lewis has not been here for weeks, and will not come again."
"How do you know he will not, Annetta?"
"I wish I were as certain of the means by which we are to live, as I am that he will not return," was the gloomy reply of the daughter. "I have given up that hope as altogether vain."
"I cannot, I will not give it up!" said the mother, with a strong expression of feeling.
Annetta bent down again over her work, and went on plying her needle — but without uttering a word. The still lingering confidence of her mother inspired no hope her with. In her mind, the long agitated question was at rest.
Two months went by. The once splendidly furnished rooms began to have a meager look; articles that had stood for years in close proximity' were now placed at a distance, while many an old companion was missed, having passed that limit from which no traveler had yet returned. Even Mrs. Laurie began to fear that all was lost, and she would listen in silence to the often urged suggestion of Annetta, whether they had not better give up the house, sell the remnant of their furniture at public sale, except what they would need to furnish plainly a few rooms, and begin to look to the means of keeping themselves above poverty, which was now approaching them with rapid strides. At length, silence having taken the place of opposition, assent to what had been so often urged, followed, though with painful reluctance, this state of silence and doubt. And now, her mind being deeply impressed with the certainty that it was vain to look for any aid outside of themselves, in their great extremity, Mrs. Laurie became fully and distressingly awake to the helplessnessof their true condition.
Where were the means of support to come from? How were they to live? These questions, which Annetta had already asked herself over and over again a hundred times without obtaining any satisfactory answer, filled the mind of her mother with wild alarm. The desire to keep up appearances no longer existed, it had been extinguished by visions of coming poverty and bitter extremity. When Annetta again suggested the propriety of giving up their elegant house, no opposition was made — but the question asked in a tone of doubt,
"Will the landlord take it off our hands? You know we have entered upon another year."
"I will see him today," returned Annetta. "The sooner we understand what is to be expected from him, the better."
Towards mid-day, Annetta went out to call upon the landlord, and make some arrangement with him about taking the house off their hands. While she was gone, Mrs. Morton called in to see her mother. That lady found Mrs. Laurie in a very depressed state of mind. The tone of her voice expressed subdued feelings, and her face wore a look of trouble deeper far than it had ever worn before.
"Are you not well?" asked Mrs. Morton, kindly, some time after she had been seated.
"Not very well," was the simple reply.
Nothing more was said for the space of nearly a minute.
"I believe we shall move from here," said Mrs. Laurie, thinking it as well to give an intimation of their intention, that the apparent suddenness of the movement might create the less surprise when it occurred.
"Ah! Well, I would think you would find a smaller-sized house much pleasanter and more convenient."
"No doubt. This is a large house, and there is a great deal of work about it. Annetta has gone this morning to see if the landlord will not take it off our hands at the expiration of the present quarter. It seems a useless waste of money to pay so high a rent."
"So I would think. Who is the landlord?"
"Mr. Baldwin. He keeps a shop in John Street."
"How long has she been gone?" asked Mrs. Morton.
"Over an hour. It is about time for her to return. She said she would take an omnibus."
Just then the bell was heard to ring.
"There she is!" said Mrs. Laurie. "Oh! I hope she has succeeded!"
In a few moments the door of the room in which they were sitting was thrown open, and Annetta came in with tears upon her cheeks. Seeing Mrs. Morton, she made a strong effort to control her feelings — but was unable to do so; the violence with which they burst forth was in proportion to the struggle she had made to suppress them. She came forward to where Mrs. Morton and her mother were sitting, trying with all the force of mind she could exercise, to compel her face to assume a cheerful smile; but the effort was vain. As she offered her hand to their visitor, she sank into a chair beside her mother, and hiding her face upon her bosom, sobbed and wept bitterly.
"Will he not consent to let us move?" asked Mrs. Laurie, with forced calmness, as her daughter became more composed.
"No, mother," she said, without looking up. "He will hold us for the year."
"Then all is lost!" exclaimed Mrs. Laurie with a gesture of despair, forgetting, in the anguish of the moment, that there was a witness of all that was said and expressed.
Before Mrs. Morton left, she understood, from what was said to her, as well as from what she saw expressed in their feelings, and from the appearances of things around her, pretty accurately the true state of affairs. She did not confer with and advise them as to what was best to be done, because they did not give her their confidence to a degree that would enable her to do so. She retired soon after the return of Annetta, as she felt that her presence was embarrassing to them.
That evening, Mrs. Morton met Mr. Lewis at the house of a friend, where she was spending a few hours socially. He walked home with her when she left, and on the way made inquiry about Miss Laurie, for whom he could not help feeling a good deal of interest, although the sentiments with which he had once regarded her, were becoming gradually transferred to another, who was, in his mind, far more worthy of his love. Mrs. Morton related what she had that day seen and heard, and gave it as her impression that all they possessed in the world was their furniture, much of which had already disappeared, and that if their landlord held them for the year, and then seized upon what they had to satisfy his demand for rent, it would strip them of everything. This announcement gave Mr. Lewis much pain.
"What madness for them to act as they have done!" he said. "What possible end could they have had in view?"
"One that has evidently been defeated, no matter what it was," replied Mrs. Morton. "From my heart I pity them; especially Annetta, who has been, I have no doubt, controlled by her mother. It made my heart ache to see her distress when she came home this morning and announced the landlord's determination to hold them for the rent. I have seen her several times since you gave up your visits. She is much changed, and has a look of patient suffering. The lace work is still continued. I have always found her with needle in her hand, and all the evidences around her of prolonged and earnest application."
"Sad evidences of her duplicity and willful perversion of the truth!" said Lewis, with some bitterness. "Poor girl!" he added, in a gentler voice. "I pity her from my heart! But she is only paying the penalty of her own acts — reaping a harvest from seed sown by her own hands."
"And a sorrowful harvest I am afraid it will be, before the whole field is reaped," was returned.
The young man parted with Mrs. Morton at her door, and walked slowly and thoughtfully away.
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