第9章

THE TEMPTATION.

Some letters, tied together with a ribbon, attracted Mercy's attention first.The ink in which the addresses were written had faded with age.The letters, directed alternately to Colonel Roseberry and to the Honorable Mrs.Roseberry, contained a correspondence between the husband and wife at a time when the Colonel's military duties had obliged him to be absent from home.Mercy tied the letters up again, and passed on to the papers that lay next in order under her hand.

These consisted of a few leaves pinned together, and headed (in a woman's handwriting) "My Journal at Rome." A brief examination showed that the journal had been written by Miss Roseberry, and that it was mainly devoted to a record of the last days of her father's life.

After replacing the journal and the correspondence in the case, the one paper left on the table was a letter.The envelope, which was unclosed, bore this address: "Lady Janet Roy, Mablethorpe House, Kensington, London." Mercy took the inclosure from the open envelope.The first lines she read informed her that she had found the Colonel's letter of introduction, presenting his daughter to her protectress on her arrival in England Mercy read the letter through.It was described by the writer as the last efforts of a dying man.Colonel Roseberry wrote affectionately of his daughter's merits, and regretfully of her neglected education--ascribing the latter to the pecuniary losses which had forced him to emigrate to Canada in the character of a poor man.Fervent expressions of gratitude followed, addressed to Lady Janet."I owe it to you," the letter concluded, "that I am dying with my mind at ease about the future of my darling girl.To your generous protection I commit the one treasure I have left to me on earth.Through your long lifetime you have nobly used your high rank and your great fortune as a means of doing good.I believe it will not be counted among the least of your virtues hereafter that you comforted the last hours of an old soldier by opening your heart and your home to his friendless child."So the letter ended.Mercy laid it down with a heavy heart.What a chance the poor girl had lost! A woman of rank and fortune waiting to receive her--a woman so merciful and so generous that the father's mind had been easy about the daughter on his deathbed--and there the daughter lay, beyond the reach of Lady Janet's kindness, beyond the need of Lady Janet's help!

The French captain's writing-materials were left on the table.Mercy turned the letter over so that she might write the news of Miss Roseberry's death on the blank page at the end.She was still considering what expressions she should use, when the sound of complaining voices from the next room caught her ear.The wounded men left behind were moaning for help--the deserted soldiers were losing their fortitude at last.

She entered the kitchen.A cry of delight welcomed her appearance--the mere sight of her composed the men.From one straw bed to another she passed with comforting words that gave them hope, with skilled and tender hands that soothed their pain.They kissed the hem of her black dress, they called her their guardian angel, as the beautiful creature moved among them, and bent over their hard pillows her gentle, compassionate face."I will be with you when the Germans come," she said, as she left them to return to her unwritten letter."Courage, my poor fellows! you are not deserted by your nurse.""Courage, madam!" the men replied; "and God bless you!"If the firing had been resumed at that moment--if a shell had struck her dead in the act of suc coring the afflicted, what Christian judgment would have hesitated to declare that there was a place for this woman in heaven? But if the war ended and left her still living, where was the place for her on earth? Where were her prospects? Where was her home?

She returned to the letter.Instead, however, of seating herself to write, she stood by the table, absently looking down at the morsel of paper.

A strange fancy had sprung to life in her mind on re-entering the room; she herself smiled faintly at the extravagance of it.What if she were to ask Lady Janet Roy to let her supply Miss Roseberry's place? She had met with Miss Roseberry under critical circumstances, and she had done for her all that one woman could do to help another.There was in this circumstance some little claim to notice, perhaps, if Lady Janet had no other companion and reader in view.Suppose she ventured to plead her own cause--what would the noble and merciful lady do? She would write back, and say, "Send me references to your character, and I will see what can be done." Her character! Her references! Mercy laughed bitterly, and sat down to write in the fewest words all that was needed from her--a plain statement of the facts.

No! Not a line could she put on the paper.That fancy of hers was not to be dismissed at will.Her mind was perversely busy now with an imaginative picture of the beauty of Mablethorpe House and the comfort and elegance of the life that was led there.Once more she thought of the chance which Miss Roseberry had lost.Unhappy creature! what a home would have been open to her if the shell had only fallen on the side of the window, instead of on the side of the yard!

Mercy pushed the letter away from her, and walked impatiently to and fro in the room.