Evangeline did not understand what it meant; and, in her distress, she thought of Charles Clinton. She wrote to him, and made an assignation with him; for she feared, she knew not wherefore, to ask him to come to the house.
The appointment was kept, and she told him all. She implored him to advise her how to act, and to explain to her how it was that strange, dirty men, could force themselves into the house, stay there, and it was not in her power to call in policemen and have them turned out. He made all clear to her; assigned the reason of the flight of her father to his fear of arrest for debt, or want of moral courage to face the disgrace of his fall being proclaimed to the world. He explained to her that, in a few days, the whole contents of the mansion would be sold, and that she and her mother would be turned, homeless and penniless, into the street. He counselled her to write to the wealthiest of her near relatives, lay bare all the facts, and ask them to come forward to assist her in her cruel and unhappy condition. He undertook to manage to delay the return of the writ of execution until she could get an answer; and, with soothing words and sanguine prophecies, with earnest entreaties to keep a good heart, he accompanied her to her home, and parted with her under a promise to meet again as soon as her application to her Scotch relations was answered.
In three days she received it. There was no delay in the reply. The cold-hearted and selfish, who spontaneously refuse to help those in distress, are usually prompt in announcing their purpose. Evangeline received a reply, expressing great surprise and indignation at what had happened, and, under the circumstances, at the application. If Mr. Grahame had not thought fit to provide for his children in his prosperity, it was not to be expected that his relations would do so in their distress. The writer lamented the events but hoped it would terminate less unfavourably than she had expected &c., &c.
She wept bitterly when she read the note; it almost broke her heart. She was frightened to distraction at the prospect before her. What could she do, not alone for herself, but for her most miserable parent?
She met Charley again; she could not speak to him, but sank upon his breast and wept. She seemed to him as a bird nestling in his bosom. Surely, he thought there is no worldly distinction between us now; and he would upon the impulse have pressed her to his heart.