Chapter XX: Conclusion

IT was with eager anticipation that Mrs. Brown looked forward to the return of the Vicar, for when she reached home and sat down to rest and think over the matter once more, she gradually came to understand that it was not so strange, after all, that people should doubt if such wonderful news could be true. Indeed, the more calm and quiet she grew the more reasonable this view of the matter became, especially when she considered that none but herself had seen the letter from the hospital.

When, at last, she saw the Vicar walking briskly up the street, she went at once and opened the door, for she felt sure he brought her good news.

"I have seen her, Mrs. Brown! I have seen your Fanny," he said, almost as eagerly as the poor woman herself had spoken that morning at the Vicarage.

She was trembling with excitement now. "Thank God, thank God for me, sir," she exclaimed, as the Vicar stepped in.

When she was seated in the almost bare front room, the Vicar told her more about his visit.

"She has been very ill, indeed, and for some time it seemed likely that if she did not die of scarlet fever, she would succumb to brain fever, for it seems that her brain was more affected than could easily be accounted for," said the Vicar. "The nurses told me all about this complication, and asked me to try and persuade Fanny to tell me what was troubling her. They had failed to do this. They knew from her ravings when she was delirious that it had something to do with a watch, and from what she said she was in evident fear of the police going after her; and, of course, the natural conclusion was that she had stolen a watch from somewhere, but she refused to tell them anything about it."

"Oh, that watch! The misery and trouble it has caused!" said Mrs. Brown, with a groan.

The Vicar looked surprised. "Then you have heard about it," he said: "although Fanny seems to think she has kept the whole matter a secret."

"Yes, sir. I have heard about it; but I cannot say that I understand it clearly. When Fanny came home for her first holiday, she had got a very bright-looking watch, with a chain round her neck, and she told me she had given ten shillings for it. Naturally I was angry that she should spend her money so foolishly—the first wages she had ever earned. I wanted her to tell her father afterwards, and let him see the watch, but she never did tell him, and I never heard any more about it, except what I said myself, until I had her box come home a little while ago, and I had to look through it—for the man brought a list of things that were in it when it was taken away from the place where she caught the fever—and in a bag I found the watch I had seen before, and with it a collecting-card, by which I saw that she had agreed to pay two pounds for the watch, and two or three payments of three shillings had been paid. I will fetch the bag, and let you see it, sir. I have not told her father about it; for how could I let him know how our girl had deceived me as soon as she got away from home?" And poor Mrs. Brown burst into tears as she went out of the room to unlock Fanny's box.

She was away several minutes, and there were still traces of tears on her face when she came back with the little print-bag in her hand.

"There, sir," she said, "that bag made the news of her death doubly hard to bear; and I made up my mind that my husband should not have that sorrow to endure, if I could help it. So I have kept the box locked ever since it came back, and I put the key where I knew none but myself would find it."

The Vicar took out the watch and looked at it. "This is worth about fifteen shillings, I should think," he remarked, as he turned it about in his hand.

"How could they sell it for ten, then?" said Mrs. Brown. "I am sure Fanny told me she gave ten shillings for it," added her mother.

"Yes, I believe she told you the truth about the ten shillings," said the Vicar. "But as you were cross with her for giving even that small sum for it, she kept it a secret that she had so much more to pay. What seems to have upset her so much was that these people claimed the whole two pounds she had agreed to pay, without any abatement for the ten shillings she gave the woman when she bought the watch; and she had had the watch nearly six weeks before they called for the first instalment of the two pounds. Then, if you look at this card you will see that they carefully ignore having received anything on account of the payment to be made;" and the Vicar pointed with his finger to the columns where Fanny's payments had been acknowledged and the amount set down as that still owing.

Mrs. Brown heaved a sigh of relief. "Then she really did tell the truth about the ten shillings? Poor silly Fanny? Why didn't she tell us the whole story, and then we might have helped her somehow," said Mrs. Brown.

She did not enter into further particulars with the Vicar; but she could understand how it was that Fanny could not lend her any money, for there was the bitter knowledge of this debt hanging over her always present to her mind, her mother thought.

"My poor foolish girl! If she could only have trusted her mother and father," she exclaimed, tears of pity filling her eyes as she thought of all the needless suffering Fanny had endured.

"Ah," said the Vicar, "I am afraid there are a good many like Fanny among us. If we would only trust the love and care of the great Father of us all, what different men and women we should be. How much happier. How much more ready to help one another." The Vicar talked a little while to Mrs. Brown, and then he told her what was indeed glad news; for he had obtained permission for her and her husband to go and see Fanny the next day. "You will have to obey orders, and wear a wrap that will cover you and keep you from infection. You will also have to wash your face and hands, and rinse your mouth both before you go into the ward and when you come out," said the Vicar. "I had to submit, and I am sure you will be willing for the sake of seeing your child," he added.

"Yes, indeed, sir, I would do anything to see my Fanny again; and I can never be sufficiently grateful to you for all the trouble you have taken for us."

"Well, Mrs. Brown, I think, from all I have heard, that you would have done the same for me or a poorer neighbour. The poor family you have been helping lately would not have accepted help from me—not, at least, such help as I could give, but you have managed to overcome the man's pride and prejudice. You and Miss Martin between you have helped the girl to begin a new life, so that there is more hope for them all now than there ever was before, and it may be we shall see Collins himself coming to church if we are only patient enough to work and wait without trying to hurry things. I met him as I was coming here, on his way back to his work, I expect, and when I lifted my hat, and wished him good afternoon, he positively returned the greeting, and looked pleasantly at me when he did it."

Mrs. Brown smiled. "Ah, the black frock and bits of mourning Mrs. Parsons sent to Jessie pleased her father quite as much as it pleased the girl!" she said. "They had no money they could spend for black things; but with what Miss Martin and Mrs. Parsons and another friend gave them they were able to go into comfortable mourning for their mother, and this respect paid to the memory of his wife has done more to touch Collins than anything else could. And now he has begun to give up the drink again, Jessie hopes to make the home more comfortable for all of them. Do you know, sir, she has gone to work at the blacking factory three days a week? They need extra help there, and Jessie has gone that she may be able to do something towards paying off the debts that have grown to be such a burden to them lately."

"Brave girl!" said the Vicar. "Tell her that we shall all be proud of her yet, and I shall try to get her father to join our men's club when it is open. I can say a good word to him about his daughter, and that will help me to open the subject as soon as things are forward enough."

The Vicar talked thus, thinking it would be good to draw Mrs. Brown's mind away from her own trouble and joy for a little while. But as he was leaving, he said—

"Now, if Eliza can be spared for an hour, she shall come home for you to tell her the good news yourself. Brown, I expect, will be home to-night, for I sent him a telegram to say he had better come and have matters cleared up."

As Mrs. Brown anticipated, when she thanked the Vicar for his promise that Eliza should come home for an hour or two, it was not long before the girl appeared, and then all the wonderful tale had to be told over again. When Selina and Minnie came home from school, they had a fresh item of news. A friend of Fanny's, not having heard the story taken to school in the morning, had brought a bunch of flowers to put on her grave, and then, hearing what had happened, Miss Martin had suggested that the flowers should still be placed on the grave, but with the inscription, "For the stranger who lies here instead of Fanny Brown."

By the last train Brown himself came home, having obtained leave to come and do what he could towards clearing up the mystery that led to the report of his daughter's death.

Like everybody else, he was disposed to think the present information might prove false, until his wife told him that the Vicar had been to the hospital and actually seen and talked with Fanny.

"We are both going to see her to-morrow," she added. "But we shall have to obey the rules and regulations, the Vicar told me, although they may seem strange to us."

"All right, we will do as we are told, for the sake of seeing our girl," said Brown; "but I shall want to know afterwards how they came to send us that blundering message."

But before they went to bed that night they were destined to hear something more about the matter. Just as they were going upstairs there came a knock at the door, and when it was opened Brown saw a well-dressed man, whom he took to be a clerk, standing on the doorstep.

"Is this Mr. Brown's?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, my name is Brown."

"And you have a daughter ill in the fever hospital?" said the stranger.

"Yes, sir. I heard she was there to-day, though we thought we had laid her under the trees in our churchyard. Is that the business you have come about?" asked Brown.

"Yes. I have come to know where the true Fanny Brown is buried, for it is Mary Brown that is still living in the hospital."

Mrs. Brown heard the words, and her heart almost died within her.

"My child's name is Fanny, not Mary," she said, going to the door.

"Will you come inside, sir, and let us see what this other mistake may mean?" said Brown.

The man stepped in. "My daughter's name was Frances Florence Brown, and she was about sixteen. I had sent her to boarding-school since her mother's death, two years ago. The fever, it seems, broke out in the school, and they were obliged to send my poor girl away before I could have any choice in the matter. She was called Fanny by her schoolfellows, and that was how the name of 'Fanny' came to be entered in the books of the hospital. I have written again and again to the authorities, and was told each time that my child was seriously ill, until yesterday I insisted upon seeing her for myself; and then, judge what my feelings were to see that it was altogether another Fanny Brown, and not my daughter at all. The Nurse told me then that this girl said her name was Fanny, but she had been entered in the books as Mary Brown. She had been admitted on the same day, and about the same time as my daughter, and that was how the two names had been confused. You received notice of your daughter's death, when my daughter died."

"May I ask, sir, what sort of a girl your child was?" said Brown.

"Rather small for her age, and very delicate," said the grieved father, with tears in his eyes. "The girl I saw to-day is not the least like her."

"No, sir, I think there cannot be any mistake this time, for our Vicar went to see our Fanny this morning, and he would be sure to know her. Besides, she talked to him for a little while, though they would not let him stay very long," said Mrs. Brown.

It was agreed before the stranger left that he should come early the next day to see where his child was buried; and he did this before the Browns went to the hospital. The Vicar had been informed of this, and met them at the grave; and the bunch of flowers left there for "the stranger" touched the father's heart very deeply.

When Brown and his wife reached the hospital, they found Fanny anxiously looking out for them.

"You won't be able to stay long, mother," she said, "and I want to tell you something while I can. I told the Vicar all about the watch; but in my box you will find a new brown frock, and I have not paid for it. I got a new place, where I was to have ten pounds a year, that I might pay for this and the watch. Oh, you don't know what a foolish, wicked girl I have been!" said Fanny, bursting into tears.

"Hush! hush! You must not cry, or I shall have to send your mother away, and then you will not be able to tell her what you want her to do," said Nurse, speaking very firmly.

The tears were in her father's eyes as well as in Fanny's; but he managed to say—

"You want me to pay for this dress, dear?"

"Oh yes, if you can. I want you to lend me the money, and when I get well, and can go to service again, I will pay you back, daddy."

"Yes, yes," said her mother; "we will do just what you wish. We have saved some money, you know, to buy new furniture for the parlour, but your new frock shall be paid for out of it directly."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, mother," said Fanny, gratefully. "Now I shall be able to go to sleep, Nurse," she added; "for my father and mother will pay what I owe, I am sure. Give my love to Miriam when you see her. And if Mrs. Lloyd's servant leaves, ask Mrs. Lloyd to wait till I get well, and let me come back to her."

"There, no more," said Nurse; "you must go now," she said, speaking to Mrs. Brown; and the next minute they were hurried out of the ward, and Fanny was swallowing some medicine that should help her to go to sleep.

The rest of my story is soon told. Mrs. Brown went home and once more unlocked Fanny's box. As the girl had told her, she found Mrs. Scott's bill in the pocket, with a few words added that the writer could not afford to give long credit, and that she hoped half the price of the dress would be paid the following week. She showed this to her husband, and he agreed that the whole twenty-five shillings must be paid at once. It seemed an extravagant amount to Mrs. Brown, who had been used to get a frock for Fanny at the cost of a few shillings, even when she had to pay for it herself; and when she looked again at this brown dress she could only say that it was not worth half the money now, it was so tumbled.

But she took the bill and the money to Mrs. Scott that same afternoon, while Brown and a friend, who understood the value of watches, went to see Judd. The man began talking to Brown at first very much as he had talked to Fanny; but he soon learned that the police would be called in, and the whole case taken before a magistrate, if he did not do as Brown wished. Sorely against his will, he had to give a receipt for the ten shillings Fanny had first paid, and acknowledge this as part payment for the watch. Then followed a wrangle with Brown's friend, whom Judd learned was as well acquainted with the value of these watches as himself. The storm raged round the sum of four shillings, which Brown's friend declared had already been paid in excess of the value of the watch. Fifteen shillings was a fair retail price; and, as Fanny had paid nineteen shillings, he demanded that four shillings should be returned to her father; for even at this reduced price, Judd would receive a fair profit, and more than this he had no right to demand.

After a good deal of haggling the four shillings were returned, and the collecting-card receipted in such a way, that although fifteen shillings only were paid, Fanny received a full discharge for the whole amount she had contracted to pay, and no further claim could be made upon her in the future.

This settled, Brown went to hear what the people had to say who had sent to tell him that Fanny was dead. Their explanation was very much like what he had heard from the other Mr. Brown, as to the similarity of the girls' names, but he also added that the violence of the epidemic for a short time had taxed their resources, and compelled their officials to work long beyond their usual hours. Mr. Brown was asked to take these circumstances into his consideration in making complaint about the mistake that had arisen.

With regard to the expense he had incurred, in paying for the funeral of a stranger, ample compensation would be made at once; so that when he left, Brown felt he had very little to grumble about.

A few weeks later, Fanny was sent to a convalescent home at the seaside, and when she returned she was allowed to go direct home to her friends. She was looking very different then from what she did when the Vicar saw her in the hospital. She looked older and graver too, for the bitter experience she had passed through she was never likely to forget. She was wiser too, and more diffident; less eager to receive high wages than to secure a comfortable home, when she would be able once more to take up the threads of life, and learn to be useful.

She had said she would like to go back to Mrs. Lloyd's, but she had small hope of being able to do so, until one day Miss Martin sent to tell her that Mrs. Lloyd's servant had been obliged to go home, because her mother was ill, and Mrs. Lloyd would be glad if Fanny could go to her for a few weeks.

The girl needed no second invitation. She went the same day, and the few weeks extended to months and even years; for the thought of going to a new place was one of horror to Fanny, and though she had to dress plainly, and be careful and economical, there was not a more happy, healthy, winsome lassie than Fanny Brown, who had once been so wilful and selfish as to well-nigh break her mother's heart.

THE END

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