Again, that troubled look flickered in Elosia’s eyes. “You might as well know that she and Peter are having marital difficulties over living in South Africa, especially over the Zambezi area—Fort Salisbury.”
The news did not really surprise Evy. She had suspected trouble when Arcilla stopped writing to her from Capetown. Arcilla was not an easy person to live with, but Evy suspected that neither was Peter Bartley. When Evy met him, he had seemed totally dedicated to the British cause in South Africa.
“Arcilla would like to come home, but of course, Peter can’t support that. His position as assistant commissioner of the new colony demands his presence. Dear Arcilla has interests of her own, some of which the family, Julien in particular, disapproves, but you know our Arcilla. She has always cultivated her dabbling in this little preoccupation or that.” She smiled, showing her teeth for the first time.
Evy could smile wryly about “our Arcilla,” who was indeed known to have her little preoccupations. But Arcilla had known about Peter’s responsibilities in the British South Africa Company before she married him. Sir Julien and Peter had made those clear.
Evy now worried about what new “preoccupations” Arcilla could be cultivating at gold-and-diamond-rich Capetown.
“Peter sympathizes with her, but there is nothing he can do. Sir Julien insists she remain with her husband.”
Evy could envision Arcilla throwing one of her tantrums and, as usual, getting her own way. Evy wondered again what manner of man Peter might be.
“Since you are without close family, we are all the more hopeful that you will find this arrangement agreeable. Arcilla is most anxious that you come and stay with her. I promised her I would do my best to encourage you to do so. The only question is whether your health will permit such rigorous travel at this time.”
She lifted a letter from the divan. “From Arcilla. It’s personal. I am certain she’s done her best to talk you into going to Capetown. You may read it at your leisure. If you decide to accept, you could voyage back with Patricia and Rogan.”
Evy accepted the sealed envelope, recognizing Arcilla’s showy handwriting that was so much like her personality.
Lady Eloisa stood, and Evy gathered that their little tea party was concluded. Evy was anxious to make her departure. Bidding her hostess good-bye and promising to let her know her decision about Capetown, she left Rookswood as unobtrusively as she had entered.
As Mr. Bixby drove the coach through the Rookswood gate with its gargoyles poised for action, she leaned back against the seat and removed Arcilla’s letter from the handbag. Voyage to the Cape with Rogan and Patricia? Not even a team of a dozen horses could get her to do such a thing!
Dear Evy,
If you won’t leave England to come and stay with me for our old friendship’s sake, then do consider coming to stay at Cape House to teach music to Susanna Bley. She’s Julien’s youngest granddaughter and nothing like her sister, Darinda. Darinda, who’s had her eye on Rogan for months now, is a positive bore. She actually delights in the politics surrounding the new colony, Fort Salisbury. Alice is also here with Derwent. They have two children now. Can you believe it?
Susanna is completely unpolitical, and a gentle soul. You’d like her. And she adores the piano. She reminds me of you when we were girls. Now! As for my situation—help! The baby is growing, and I feel as though I weigh three hundred pounds. I’m bored to death. I desperately need my prudent friend from the rectory. So you must come soon.
Love, Arcilla
Evy smiled. So very like Arcilla.
As the horse’s hooves clomped down the road back toward the rectory, she sighed over her dilemma. She was beginning to think her future might point in another direction. This realization brought both excitement and some anxious dread.
The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD…
The divine promise brought comfort. Where would His hand lead and guide her? For what purpose was she to take this new road? Faith said it was enough that He knew. If trouble waited, as it had already awaited her in the past, then she must continue to go forward, believing that God had only good plans for her, even through trials. Evy believed there just might be a divine reason for the restlessness that urged her onward to Cape House.
Suddenly, she longed to meet Cousin Jakob van Buren. She wanted to go to his medical mission station and help him in some way. But if this was not to be, at least she could contact relatives on her mother’s side—maybe even her father’s?
Nothing will stop me. Not now.
“I’ll go,” she said aloud and lifted her chin.
The answers to many of her questions awaited her in South Africa.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The envelope… What had Henry written to Uncle Edmund so many years ago? And why did someone think it important enough at this late date to come looking for it? Evy studied it as though the handwriting itself would tell her what she wanted to know. She shook her head, frustrated with the impasse. She stood from the chair in her rectory room and, snatching her wrap and a hat, made up her mind quickly. She would return to the cottage to search through those trunks and the desk for herself. It wasn’t likely she’d find anything after all this time, but she’d have a look anyway. She wished ardently that she had not let her feelings of loss keep her from doing so earlier.
She would need Mrs. Croft for the visit to the cottage, but before she set out, she wanted to visit the cemetery and Aunt Grace’s and Uncle Edmund’s graves. This was a time for her to be alone, so she managed to avoid Vicar and Mrs. Osgood as she slipped into the big country kitchen. Mrs. Croft had not yet arrived, and Evy quickly wrapped her breakfast, a leftover scone with jam, and went out through the back door.
She had left a note on the kitchen sideboard for Martha and Mrs. Croft to find, informing them she was on a spiritual pilgrimage of sorts to the cemetery, and that she desired solitude. She would be borrowing the jingle for the morning but would return by luncheon.
With her Bible and the key to the cottage in her handbag, she left the rectory.
The summer morning was cool and quite pleasant yet, with a clear sky and a few small clouds over the green hills. The birds were twittering, and blue lupine flowers grew freely along the dirt road winding down from Rookswood. The scene gave no evidence that all was not right with the world, the wider world as well as her own narrower one. She reminded herself that her Shepherd was sovereign over both domains. While so many things seemed to be coming apart like a worn-out garment, her Divine Shepherd neither slept nor slumbered.
She quietly sang a childhood hymn she loved particularly:
“Savior, like a shepherd lead us,
Much we need Thy tender care;
In Thy pleasant pastures feed us,
For our use Thy folds prepare:
We are Thine; do Thou befriend us,
Be the Guardian of our way;
Keep Thy flock, from sin defend us,
Seek us when we go astray:
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Thou hast bought us, Thine we are;
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Thou has bought us, Thine we are.”
Yes, she was His, crutches and all.
A short time later, Evy parked the jingle under the huge pepper tree and, with studied determination, climbed down from the seat, holding a crutch for support. She made her way to the grave sites for Edmund and Grace Havering, the only parents she’d ever known. She owed them an everlasting place in her heart—for love never dies—faith, hope, and love—but the greatest of these is love. They not only cared for and loved her, but they had brought her into a knowledge of Jesus Christ. She didn’t know whether Katie van Buren had been a sincere believer, and she knew even less about her father.
So she was indeed blessed to have been raised as the Vicar’s niece. As she stood there, her heart was flooded with bittersweet memories of great loss and immense gratitude. Evy was fully aware that she had much to thank h
er heavenly Father for. Suppose I’d been born a Zulu with no knowledge of the true God?
She began to think of her mother’s cousin, Jakob van Buren, and his mission station somewhere in the distant wilds of the Zambezi region. More and more she wanted to go there to meet him, to glean all she could about her mother and family members, and—was it possible?—to even help him in bringing the Good News to those who needed to know her gentle Savior.
I am a debtor…both to wise and to unwise.… For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes… The words of Saint Paul in the first chapter of Romans chimed clearly through her mind and soul. So much so that Evy stopped on the summer grass and turned toward the distant chapel. As those words rang upon her mind, she wondered if Vicar Edmund might have been pulling the rope hanging down below the bell tower.
She stood silently, hearing with her earthly ears only the warm, sweet summer wind whispering along the tall green grass, brushing like angel’s wings through nodding heads of flowers and tree branches. The skirt around her ankles lifted and nudged the summer hat at her side. A peace moved through her spirit, bringing an unexplainable joy—unexplainable because her circumstances were unchanged. She felt herself smiling and even glanced up toward the blue sky with puffy white clouds, as though God’s love had unexpectedly embraced her.
“Here am I, Father God,” she said out loud. “Do with me as You will. I know I can fully trust You. Faithful and True are among your wonderful names.”
Evy laid a cluster of wildflowers at the grave sites of her uncle and aunt. She was under no illusion that the real Edmund and Grace were here, for she knew that believers in Christ were in His presence. To be absent from the body, is to be present with the Lord. Only their earthly remains were buried here, awaiting the first resurrection. O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory? Christ had conquered both by paying the penalty for sin. Evy knew that the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
She sat down on the grass to read and pray, enjoying the solitude, feeling no superstition over mere burial plots.
A while later she heard footsteps and turned her head. The Hooper twins stood there looking somber. Their matching green skirts flared in the breeze. They both wore spectacles, and their corn-colored hair was in looped braids. As usual, Mary wore a ribbon in her braids, this one green.
“Hullo, Miss Varley,” she said.
“Why, hello, Mary, Beth. Come sit down.”
Beth shook her head, looking glum. “We don’t like tombs, Miss Varley. They say when a person visits a tomb and sits for more than an hour, the ghost will follow you home.”
Mary lifted her necklace watch and squinted through her thick glasses. “You’ve been here almost fifty-five minutes.”
“So we’ve come to warn you,” Beth said and reached down to tug at her arm. “Oh, come away, Miss Varley, do come now.”
Evy smiled, and her first response was to protest, but their disturbed faces drew from her a sigh instead.
“I don’t believe a word of it,” she said, getting up from the grass. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were listening to silly stories told by Hiram the old sexton.”
“He’s dead,” Beth said soberly. “Did Wally give you the envelope we found under the attic desk?”
“Yes, and did you look about the floor to see whether the letter might have been wadded up or tossed aside?”
“Hooper Detective Agency wouldn’t make a mistake like that, Miss Varley. I looked all around the floor. So did Beth.”
Beth nodded gravely. Her eyes were curious and thoughtful beneath her glasses. “You will search again. You think something important was in that envelope.”
She was more discerning than Mary. “I don’t know if there was or not, but you’re right. I’m going back to the cottage. Perhaps this morning with Mrs. Croft.”
“Wally saw Mrs. Croft busy with Hulda’s new baby,” Mary said.
Hulda was Lizzie’s younger sister. If Mrs. Croft was busy helping with a sick baby in her family, it wasn’t likely she’d have time to go with her to the cottage. Let alone that she might think it unwise and refuse to go. Evy could go there on her own, of course, and she wasn’t afraid. But could she manage the steps to the attic? Perhaps she should just square her shoulders and go ahead by herself. The more independence she could manage, the less mental stress she would have to confront.
“We can go with you, Miss Varley,” Mary offered. “Can’t we, Beth?” She looked at her sister, obviously expecting agreement.
Beth did not look so willing. Evy wondered if the girl was afraid to return there, but that was not likely, since both delighted in their pretend detective agency. They’d certainly had the courage to go the first time. Perhaps there was some other reason for her hesitation. Wally, maybe? Had Wally told Beth about the incident in his father’s barn? Mary, on the other hand, did not seem the least bit wary. Perhaps he had not told her.
“We’ll both come with you, Miss Varley,” Mary said again. “Just in case you need help getting up the steps. They were very steep, I remember. All I can say is, I sure wouldn’t want to trip and fall down them.”
“That’s a silly thing to say now,” Beth told her with an injured look.
Mary looked at Evy with sudden contrition. “All I meant to say was—”
“I do understand Mary’s caution,” Evy said smoothly. “Look, girls, perhaps you shouldn’t come. Mrs. Hooper isn’t likely to approve of your activity. I’ll wait until Mrs. Croft is free and go another time. Was Hulda’s baby very sick?”
“They called Dr. Tisdale to their bungalow, so I think so,” Mary said.
They were walking back across the grass to where Evy left the one-horse jingle.
“Oh, look, there’s Wally. Excuse me, Miss Varley. I’ll just go and see what he’s doing this afternoon. I think he said his pa was going to let him go hunting in the Grimston Woods. Come on, Beth.”
Mary ran ahead, but Beth did not follow. She walked alongside Evy in silence. She was a much more quiet, studious girl than her twin and seemed to pick things up by observing people and situations from afar. Evy was curious about the change that came over her when the attic was mentioned, and she tried approaching her on the subject while they were momentarily alone.
“You don’t seem as anxious to return to my cottage as Mary. Is there a reason, or do you have something more fun to do this morning—with Wally, maybe?”
Beth turned pink but shook her head no. “I’m not going fishing with Wally. I don’t like catching fish. I hate watching him put worms on his hook. And when you pull fish from the stream, they wiggle all around.”
Evy glanced at her. “Jesus helped His disciples catch a huge net of fish.”
“Yes, I remember that story from Sunday school. In South Africa the hunters do horrible things to the wild animals. They shoot elephants and lions just for the sport of killing. I think that’s wrong.”
“If it’s not for food, for clothes, or because of danger to human life, yes, I agree. God told mankind to be responsible for the animals. We should never kill any of God’s creatures just for sport.”
“Did you ever see a sjambok?” Beth asked.
“It’s a short whip, isn’t it? Made from rhinoceros or hippopotamus hide?”
“Yes, but have you ever seen one?”
Evy was surprised at the girl’s knowledge of something from so far away. That was a curious question coming from a girl who’d never been out of Grimston Way.
“No, and I don’t suppose you would have either. Why do you ask? Odd that you’d be studying about such things in school. I didn’t know Curate Farley held any particular interest in South Africa.”
Beth did not answer and looked down at the grass. “Miss Varley? Why do you suppose Mary said what she did about not wishing to fall from the steps?”
Another sudden change of subject. “I suppose it was because I stood up from the grass
and used these crutches. It’s not something any of us would want, if we had a choice. I’m sure it made Mary uncomfortable. She’ll get used to it,” she said with more determination than she felt in her heart. Would anyone get used to seeing her like this? “But life is a journey with unexpected turns, Beth. That’s when we must cultivate the knowledge of who God is, and why He is trustworthy, because most of the time we’re not ready for the kinds of changes that come to us.”
“It must be awful to let go of plans you really want,” she said quietly.
“Especially when we’ve nurtured them for many months or years. That’s when we need to be open to letting God show us the new plans He has for us.”
“I don’t think God has any plans for me.”
“God has plans for every one of His children, Beth, even when disappointments come. When Israel was taken captive to Babylon, their lives were greatly troubled, but God still loved them more than they deserved and told Jeremiah to write to them, ‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the LORD, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.’ And now we know about God’s love for us even more surely than Jeremiah did, because we can read that ‘He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?’”
Beth looked thoughtful. She nodded.
“What about your plans, Miss Varley? What are you going to do now that you have to use crutches every day?”
“I have a couple of choices to consider. Lady Elosia has asked me to go to Capetown to stay with Miss Arcilla until her baby is born and old enough to travel to Rhodes’s new colony. And…” She halted a moment, wondering if she should mention the van Burens. She was sure many in the village knew she was not a Varley, but to admit it aloud remained uncomfortable.
Beth did not seem to notice, but her manner had changed back to what it had been earlier when she’d asked about the sjambok.
“I don’t think you should go, Miss Varley. I think you would be safer to go back to London.” And upon that wary and unexpected statement, she added, “I’m going to go find Digger, Wally’s dog.” And she ran off in the direction of the trees and disappeared, leaving Evy to look after her in surprise. What was bothering Beth? Whatever it was, she wasn’t even sharing it with Mary.
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