'Not always—only when I am doing nothing, and that is most times,' he said, dejectedly; but the Doctor smiled.
'Then you may take the very anxiety as a proof that your brain is recovering. You cannot expect to shake off the effects quickly; but if you are only patient with yourself, you will do perfectly well. Are you a son of the clergy?'
'No, I am a chorister at Minsterham. I have another year there, when I can go back, if ever—'
'Don't say if ever! You will, if you only will keep from fretting and hurrying, and will accept that beautiful motto of the Underwoods.'
Lance smiled responsively, and said more cheerfully, 'You are quite sure, Sir?'
'As sure as any man can be, that there is no reason to anticipate what you dread. It is quite possible that you may be more or less liable to bad head-aches, and find it needful to avoid exposure to summer sunshine; but I should think you as likely to do your work in the world as any one I ever saw.'
The light on Lance's face did not wholly spring from this reply. With 'There's Felix!' he had bounded out of the room the next moment, and his incautious voice could be heard through the window—'Fee, Fee, here's her father! that brick of a Miss Gertrude's, I mean. He's as jolly as he ought to be, and knew all our people. But just—I say—how's Cherry?'
'All well; here's a note from the dear little thing herself,' said Felix; and in another moment, with his bag strapped over his shoulder, he had brought the bright sedateness of his face into the little parlour. 'Dr. May! how very kind in you!'
'Not kindness, but common propriety, to come and see how much mischief my naughty child had done.'
'I don't think there's any real mischief,' said the elder brother, looking at the much-refreshed face.
'I think not, and so am free to be glad of the catastrophe that has brought me in the way of an old friend. Yes, I may say so, for I must have known you!'
'Yes,' said Felix, 'we used to watch for you when you came to my uncle. You always had some fun with us.'
'I remember a pair of twins, who were an irresistible attraction. I hope they have grown up accordingly. You look as if you ought to have pretty sisters.'
Felix laughed, and said the twins were reckoned as very pretty.
'How many of you are there—was it not thirteen? Did not those boys get the clergy-orphan?'
'One did, thank you. He is on a farm in Australia now, and I am thinking whether to try for little Bernard; but I am afraid his case would be a stale one, being of seven years' standing.'
'If you want it done, my daughter, Mrs. Rivers, is a dragon of diplomacy in canvassing; but why not send him to Stoneborough? Cheviot takes a selection of cleric's sons at £30, and we would have an eye to him.'
'Thank you, if we can only manage it; but I must see what my sister says—our financier.'
'One of those little apple-blossom twins? Let me look at you. Do you mean to tell me that this fellow has been the whole stand-by of that long family these seven years?' he added, turning to Lance.
'To be sure he has!' cried Lance, eagerly.
'Lance!' said Felix, rather indignantly. 'You forget Wilmet. And Thomas Underwood entirely educated two of us.'
'And,' said the Doctor, looking oddly but searchingly from one to the other, 'you've been the bundle of sticks in the fable. Never gone together by the ears? Ah!' as both brothers burst out laughing at the question, 'I'd not have asked if I had not seen how you could answer. I've seen what makes me so afraid of brothers in authority that it does me good to look at you two.'
Felix looked up. The Stoneborough murder case was about two years old, and of course he had to study and condense the details, and had come on the names of Dr. May and his son in the evidence.
The further words met his sudden conjecture. 'Ay, boys, you little know what you may be spared by home peace and confidence! Well, and what may you be doing, Felix? Your bag looks as if you had turned postman to the district.'
'There's my chief business, Sir, coupled with bookselling and stationery,' said Felix, as he pushed across a copy of the Pursuivant that lay on the table. 'I have been well paid from the first, and am in partnership now, so we have got along very well.'
'Ay, ay! Very good trade, I should think? You must send me your paper, Felix; I want one I can trust to lie about the house.'
'You will find it very stupid and local, Sir.'
It was curious how what from Mr. Staples was answered with an effort, seemed from Dr. May to draw out confidence. One point was, that Mr. Staples never seemed sure how to treat him, and often betrayed a fear of hurting his feelings; while with Dr. May he was himself and nothing else. The Doctor stayed to share their dinner, such as it was in consideration of their being lodgers as didn't give trouble—i.e. some plain boiled fish, fresh indeed, but of queer name and quality, and without sauce, and some steak not distantly related to an old shoe; but both seemed to think so little about it, that the Doctor, who was always mourning over the daintiness of the present day, approved them all the more.
Just as they had finished, Captain Audley came in with his boys, on their way to start off the Somervilles by the train, and it was agreed that when he took his son back to school at Stoneborough, Felix and Lance should come with him and spend the day.
And a pleasant day it was, as pleasant as the unsettled wanderings of a long day in a strange place could be, and memorable for one curious fact—namely, that for the first time in her life Gertrude May was shy!
Not with Lance. She had a good deal of pastime with him in the cool garden, while Felix was being walked over the school-yards in the sun; and they were excellent friends, though Ethel certainly had a certain repugnance to the discovery of how big a boy it was with whom Gertrude had danced bare-footed on the rocks. Of course Ethel was the kindly mistress of the house as usual, but she was worn and strained in spirits just then, and disinclined to exert herself beyond the needful welcome to her father's guests. So she let them all go out, and went on with her own occupations, thinking that it was well that Daisy should take her part in entertaining guests, since 'that boy' was evidently a thorough little gentleman; and then shrinking a little as she heard their voices over Aubrey's museum, including the Coombe Hole curiosities.
No, it was not towards Lance that Daisy was shy; but when all sat round the dinner-table, she was unusually silent, and listened to the conversation far more than was her wont, though it was chiefly political. When Felix spoke to her, she absolutely coloured rosy red and faltered, unable to conquer the shamefacedness that their encounter had left her; and when the party had taken leave, and she was standing in the twilight, Ethel, to her great surprise, found the child quietly crying.
'Nothing!' she said, angry at being detected.
'It can't be nothing.'
'Yes, it is. Only I do so hate—hate myself for being a tom-boy!'
'One often does go on with that a little too long; and then comes the horrible feel.'
'And that it should have happened with him of all people in the world!'
'Ah, Daisy, I wish I had come out with you!'
'Fudge, Ethel! Not to-day. Do you think I care about that boy? I should think not! But—but—I wanted to think him a nasty prig, but I can't!'
'Who?'
'Why, that eldest brother. When he found me scrambling about with my stockings off, he didn't speak, but he looked, as Richard might, surprised and sorry. I thought it was impertinent—at least I wanted to, but— And now he'll always think me—nasty!'
'My dear, if one must have a lesson of that kind, it is as well it should be from some one that one is never likely to see or hear of again.'
'Oh! but not from the very best and noblest of people one ever will hear of. Yes, Ethel, I'm not gone mad! That boy has been telling me all about his brother; and indeed I never did hear or know about any one who was a real hero in a quiet way! No; whenever I hear of a hero, I shall think of Mr. Underwood. And, oh dear, that I should have made such a goose of myself!'
It was quite unaffected—a spark of real reverence had lighted at last on Gertrude's mind. 'To turn tradesman for the sake of one's brothers and sisters, that I do call heroic!' she said; and maintained his cause, even to putting down F.U. as her 'favourite hero' in lists of likes and dislikes.
But there was no great chance of Gertrude again encountering her hero; for the morning after their day at Stoneborough, Lance was beginning to experiment on his powers by skimming newspapers, especially the Pursuivant, because he knew it before, all but the last local items, that could only be added at the moment of going to press. Suddenly he broke out, 'Holloa! you never told me this! Mowbray Smith has put his foot in it this time.'
'What?' said Felix, pausing in the act of opening an envelope from Mr. Froggatt.
'Pocketing the coal and school money—ay, and the alms.'
'Eh? Impossible! Let me look.'
'There. A letter signed "Scrutator." There's a great deal more than I can read, all about under-paid curates and sycophants. My Lady is catching it, I should say! It must be true, or Froggy would not have put it in.'
'He never admitted that!' said Felix, tearing open his letter. 'He is in utter dismay, asks whether I could have seen the thing, tells me to telegraph yes or no, that he may know whether to speak to Redstone. What's this about tribute to my father?'
'Here! "Once it was deemed well that the ecclesiastical staff should be by birth and character, if not by pecuniary fortune, above suspicion; but the universal application of the general screw system has warned off all who had a predilection for an unfettered tongue, and we all know what hands accompany one in chains."'
'Libellous!' cried Felix, running his eye over the article. 'It looks as if it had strayed out of the Dearport Hermes. I'd not have had this happen for ten thousand pounds! Clap-trap about fat rectors and starved curates! Jackman's writing, I'd lay any wager!'
'You don't think he did it?'
'Smith? Muddled his accounts! Nothing more likely; charges like this are not got up without some grounds of some sort; but as to intentional fraud, that's utter nonsense. Well, I'm off to the station, and I hope in half an hour's time Master Redstone will be quaking.'
Ten days of the holiday still remained; and Captain Audley, with boat and yacht, greatly added to its pleasures, which both brothers were able thoroughly to enjoy, living almost entirely out of doors, and valuing each hour as they became fewer.
This matter, however, made Felix very uneasy. He wrote to the curate, offering all the amends in his power, and undertaking that if Mr. Smith would send him an explanatory letter, he would back it up with a strong leading-article; and he waited anxiously for further intelligence.
Mr. Froggatt's letter came first. Redstone, fond of dabbling in editorship, had taken reproof in great dudgeon, affecting great surprise at being blamed for inserting a letter from a respectable gentleman without submitting it to Mr. Froggatt, who had entirely dropped the editorship, or delaying it to another issue by sending it to Ewmouth. The respectable gentleman was young Jackman, who was no doubt delighted to have such a firebrand to cast. It was a great grief and annoyance to Mr. Froggatt, who had always steered clear of personalities, and been inoffensive if sometimes dull; and both assault and defence were distressing to him—i.e. if defence were possible, for he seemed doubtful whether silence would not lead to the least scandal. Even Wilmet wrote: 'Every one seems to think Mr. Smith is to blame; and he is so huffy, that it looks only too much as if he were afraid of inquiry.'
This was too true a character of his replies. That intended for the paper had not a line of real defence, but was a mere tirade on the dignity of his office, and the impudence of the charges. Felix dashed it away, enraged at its useless folly; nor was the private one more satisfactory. It was but a half acceptance of Felix's total disclaimer; and the resentful wording made it difficult to discern whether the imputation were bonâ fide, regarded as not worth refuting, or whether indignation were made an excuse for denial instead of proof. A separate sheet seemed to have been added. 'The whole is to be subjected to the scrutiny of a parish meeting on Tuesday, when, though the minute accuracy of a professional accountant is not to be expected of one whose province is not to serve tables, it will be evident that only malignity to the Church could have devised the attack to which your paper has given currency.'
'Well,' broke out Lance, as Felix with a voice of ineffable disgust read the final sentence, 'if that is not being a knave, it is very like a long-eared animal!'
'I'll tell you what, Lance, they'll take him between their teeth, and worry him till there's not an inch left whole of him. Jackman and his pack will tear him down; and even Bruce and Jones, and our own good old Froggy, will give him up when they see his books won't balance.'
'Serve him right!' cried Lance. 'What fun to see his airs taken down, when he's served with the sauce he's so fond of for other people! I only wish they'd got my Lady too!'
'I must go home, that's all,' said Felix. 'If I got there on Wednesday, I might see if I could not get his accounts into presentable order.'
'What?'
'If I don't, I am afraid no one else will.'
'He will not let you.'
'I think I can make him.'
'But such a cur as he has always been to you!'
'I don't think he will object now. I know he can't do the thing himself; and if little Bisset could, depend upon it his mother would not let him stir a finger for fear of being implicated. Now I do know the ways of those accounts. I've done them with my father and with Mr. Audley. Any way, I must be at home for the meeting. Imagine Redstone reporting it! But you can stay out the week, and come home in the yacht.'
For Captain Audley had promised to take the brothers round to Dearport; but Lance could not bear to be left behind; and it ended in their walking up to the Tudor cottage to make their excuses, when the good-natured captain declared that he could put to sea that very night and land them at Dearport in good time.
So after a hurried grateful farewell to the Staples family, the holiday closed with a voyage that both were able to enjoy to the utmost before they sailed into the harbour at Dearport, and walked up to St. Faith's. Captain Audley, who had not seen Sister Constance since her husband's death, had an access of shyness and would not encounter the 'Lady Abbess,' as he called her; but his last words to Felix were a promise that if Bernard went to Stoneborough, he would have him out now and then for a holiday with his own boy.
There had been time to send notice to Geraldine, and her brothers had hoped to have taken her home with them; but though she looked clear and bright, she was not out of the doctor's hands, and was under orders to stay another week. The sight of her brothers made her very homesick, in spite of being the spoilt child of the Sisterhood, in the pleasant matted room, with its sea view, its prints, and photographs; but then she wanted to have her way prepared with Wilmet. Her vision had been to walk in imposingly, and take them all by surprise; but that notion had vanished as the time drew nearer, and she found that her new art required practice, while the dread of making a sensation grew upon her. She was ashamed of having even thought of compensating for Wilmet's absence, and entreated Felix to communicate the fact, without a word of the presumption that had nerved her courage.
The three looked over one another, as if each had undergone much since the last meeting; but the sight of Felix greatly relieved Cherry. He was sunburnt and vigorous, and his voice had resumed its depth of quiet content, instead of having that unconsciously weary sound of patience and exertion that had often gone to her heart. Lance, whom she had not seen since Easter, had assumed a look of rapid growth; his features had lost their childish form, and were disproportionate; and his complexion still had the fitful colouring of convalescence; but his eyes were dancing, and his talk ecstatic as to Vale Leston and the Kittiwake, where he was ready, at that moment, to become a cabin-boy.
'O Cherry! Cherry! you never dreamt of anything so delicious as that night's fishing!'
'That, I will answer for, she never did,' said Felix. 'When I saw the exquisite delight it afforded, not only to this Lance but to Captain Audley, to fill the boat with slimy, flapping, uncomfortable, dying fishes, I felt that I was never made for a gentleman.'
'Do you mean that you didn't like it?' exclaimed Lance, turning round aghast.
'I should have been much happier balancing the books.'
'And he wasn't even sick!' said Lance, holding up his hands.
'He hadn't that excuse,' laughed Cherry. 'However, midnight fishing is not indispensable! I should like to have seen how he looked at Vale Leston.'
Lance was in great hopes that Felix would betray the possibilities, and mayhap but for his presence, prudence might have evaporated beneath the warm breath of Cherry's sympathy; but the answer was only a discreet laugh and reply, 'Like a man who wanted his sister! I wish I could just fill your eyes with the loveliness of it, Cherry;' and in the midst of his description, in came Sister Constance, bringing with her Sister Emmeline (sister in blood as well as religion,) wanting to hear about the nephews, and the Kitten's Tail adventure, and amused to find Lance a little shy about it—certainly not disposed to dwell on it with his usual unceremonious drollery of narrative. They would not let Felix go without an inspection by Dr. Lee, which was perfectly satisfactory as to the rally of the constitution from the depression that had threatened disease, though it was impressed both on him and on Cherry that he must be careful next winter, and never neglect a cold; and with this promise the brothers took the train, and in half an hour were at home—rather an empty home, for the schools were all in operation again, and Wilmet was not at liberty for some little time after their arrival.
When she did come in, she was disappointed not to find Geraldine, and that Felix had become so absorbed in the business that had brought him home, that he only sent in word that he was obliged to go into the town, and tea must not wait for him. Lance remained, but the burthen of two secrets rendered him uncommunicative, when Wilmet tried to understand the cause of Cherry's delay at St. Faith's; and Alda was curious about Vale Leston and Mrs. Fulbert, whom she had seen at Kensington Palace Gardens. It did not take much acumen to exclaim, 'Still no children! Then there must be a chance for us!'
'That is not likely,' said Wilmet: 'it must be all in their own power; and the Vicar must be quite a young man. Is he not, Lance?'
'How should I know?'
'Didn't you see him?'
'I saw his wife, and that was enough.'
'About five-and-thirty,' said Alda. 'Of course it will all go to Uncle Tom. Money always goes to money.'
'How flushed you are, Lance!' said Wilmet. 'Are you tired?'
'Rather. I am going out into the garden.'
There, however, he was pursued by Bernard with a war-whoop, and by Theodore with his concertina; and Stella presently reported that he was gone up to bed.
'And I am afraid his room is very hot and noisy,' sighed Wilmet.
'He is only tired and cross after his two nights at sea,' said Alda.
'Lance cross!'
'My dear Wilmet, it is very bad taste in families always to maintain each other's impeccability!'
Alda was still the only person capable of defeating Wilmet, and she managed to render her very uncomfortable before the end of the evening, when hours passed and still Felix did not come in; and Alda suggested, in the intervals of yawning, that Wilmet would soon learn how green it was to sit up, now that Felix had got out of leading-strings, and set up bachelor habits.
At first, Wilmet was highly indignant; but when Alda persisted that she was rather glad to see Felix like other young men, and that Wilmet would know better when she was married, and then yawned herself off to bed, there was a sense of great discomfort to accompany the solitary vigil, which not only involved fancies of possible accidents, but was harassed by this assault on faith in the virtue and sincerity of man. Could it really be the part of a wise woman to wink at being deceived as an inferior creature, with impossible expectations of truth and purity? Yet Alda knew the world!
How much heart-sickness was darned into Lance's impossible heel before the clock chimed two! A step, and not a policeman's, came along the pavement and paused at the door, as, while the bell was cautiously pulled, down she flew!
'My dear Mettie, I am so sorry, so ashamed, of not having sent home to tell you; but if I had made the least move, it might have upset everything!'
'What have you been about?'
'Going over Mowbray Smith's accounts.'
'Oh!'
'I am very sorry! How tired you must be! I was vexed not to be able to give you notice, but you know what poor Smith is.'
'I don't know why you had to do it all, and at this time of night,' said Wilmet, still a little hurt.
'It is the only chance for him to-morrow at the meeting to have his accounts clear; so I called under the plea of seeing about the letter in Pur, and with much ado got him to realise a little more of his position, and let me look at the books. That was at five.'
'And you have been at it ever since? O Felix!' as he stretched his arms and gave a vast yawn.
'Ay! If I had shown any consciousness of the time, he would have shut up at once; and he would not let me take them home to do to-morrow morning.'
'It is to-morrow morning!'
'So it is! I must make haste, for I must try to see Mr. Ryder and Jones before the meeting. Good-night, dear old W. W. I meant to have had other talk.'
'But oh! you must have some supper!'
'I've had it—sumptuous! Stilton cheese!'
So Wilmet's faith in masculine nature rebounded as high as Alda had striven to sink it!
Patience was a good deal needed the next day; for Felix had to rush away from breakfast, and never appeared at all at dinner. He had to be present at the very stormy meeting, though only to take notes, and thus had the annoyance of seeing Mr. Smith destroying his own cause by his incapacity to understand the statement so carefully drawn up, until Mr. Ryder (on whom the enemy had reckoned as a champion) took the papers out of the helpless hand, comprehended Felix's figures at a glance, and set them lucidly forth, such as they were; but even then there were blots which there were plenty of persons ready to hit. The truth was, that between Lady Price's economies, and the unwillingness to call vestry-meetings, moneys intended for one purpose had been used for another, and articles not within the denomination of charities had been charged on funds raised for that exclusive object.
The assembly comprised the usual variety: the malicious foes of religion, headed by Jackman; the more numerous enemies, not of what they supposed religion, but of the Church; the adversaries, not of the Church, but of the Curate; and the few loyally unwilling to condemn a clergyman, but disgusted at the affair, and staggered by his management. Perhaps the rabid and ribald violence of the hostile party did Mr. Smith good with the respectable; and there were many, too, whose dictum was—'Felix Underwood says it is all right!' At any rate, though the Bishop was memorialized, it was in a much better spirit than had been likely at first; and it was not to be done without notice to the Rector. And when this was over, every one, as usual, went to their rendezvous at 'Froggatt's,' either to discuss or inquire; and the release of both partners on that summer evening was later than ever it had been before.
But then what a welcome upstairs! what a clamour of happy tongues! what an ecstatic humming of The Hardy Norseman! what a clinging to and climbing on him! If he had the cares, he had much of the joys, of the goodman of the house! But presently he missed the voice usually blithest of all, and asked for Lance.
'He was here a little while ago,' said Wilmet, 'drinking his tea. He must have gone up to bed.'
'No,' said Bernard; 'I've just been up to the barrack, and he isn't there.'
'You've not let him sleep in the attic!' exclaimed Felix. 'Why, under the leads it is like an oven!'
'I am very sorry,' said Wilmet, 'but I could not see how to help it. Your room is worse, with the glare of the setting sun; and so is Cherry's at this time of the evening.'
'Then he must have Mr. Froggatt's.'
'I thought,' said Alda, 'that you never took liberties with Mr. Froggatt?'
'Nonsense!' said Felix. 'There are only two bedrooms in this house fit for that boy in his present state—yours and Mr. Froggatt's. Which shall we have, Wilmet?'
'Mr. Froggatt's,' she answered at once. 'If you will not have another cup, I'll get it ready for him at once.'
'I've just done. I'll come and help you. But where can the boy be? In the garden?'
'No,' said Wilmet, taking a survey from the window.
'I have hardly seen him all day,' added Alda. 'I suppose he has pursuits of his own.'
'Pursuits!' said Felix, looking really anxious; 'poor little chap, he can't do without constant care and quiet!'
Wilmet made no answer, but rose and left the room; Alda muttered something about his looking quite well, which Felix did not stay to hear, following his sister out with a word about looking for him. At the same moment a little soft hand was thrust into his, and Stella, as soon as the door was shut, said, 'Please, I know where Lance is, but it's a secret.'
'Not from me, I hope?' said Felix, catching her up in his arms.
'I think not,' said Stella meditatively. 'He only told me not to let Bear and Tedo know, because they make a row. He is only up over the back warehouse, where he used to play the fiddle to us last Easter.'
'The only cool quiet place he could find!' said Felix, with more of a look of reproach than he had ever given Wilmet.
It went to her heart. 'I did not know what to do,' she said meekly. 'I wanted very much to go into the barrack ourselves, but Alda said it would kill her; and you know it has always been a sore subject that we would not let her have Mr. Froggatt's room. I ought not to have given way.'
'Alda's selfishness is a great power,' muttered Felix; and Wilmet was too much ashamed to contradict him, except by 'She is vexed because she has not heard from Ferdinand,' as they hastily made their way to the warehouse, which, being on the north side of higher buildings, never did get scorched through.
Felix went up a step-ladder, Wilmet following; and there, sure enough, was Lance, lying in a nest of paper shavings, with head on his air-pillow. 'Oh, you've unearthed me, have you? I wish you'd let me stay here all night!' he said, with some weary fretfulness; but the next moment burst into a peal of laughter, as Wilmet's head appeared above the floor. 'Pallas Athene ascends! Oh! what a place it would be to act a play—only then all the fry would find it out! I hope they haven't! I told the Star not to tell!'
'My poor dear Lance, is this the only quiet place you could find? and you let us all neglect you, and never complained!' exclaimed Wilmet, kissing his hot forehead.
'Why, it's only my stupidity,' said Lance, wearily but gratefully; 'and you can't make places quiet or cool! If you would just let me sleep here!'
'No; but you shall have Mr. Froggatt's room. He will not want it now. Come along, Lance, we'll bring your things down. The barrack is a great deal too hot for you to go into!'
He did not make any resistance; but as they landed from the ladder, threw his arm round Wilmet, and leant against her with a sort of lazy mischievous tenderness, as he said, 'Isn't the Froggery wanted for—somebody else?' and tried to look up in her face.
'Ferdinand always goes to the Fortinbras Arms,' answered Wilmet, with admirable composure.
'Oh! that's a precedent,' said Lance, ostentatiously winking at Felix, who was very glad the ice was broken. 'When is he coming, Mettie?'
'I think Alda hoped he might have run down to-night, on hearing of your return.'
There they paused while entering the house and going upstairs; but no sooner were they in the barrack, which was certainly insufferably hot, than Lance returned to the charge.
'But when is he coming? Not Fernan—he's an old story!'
'Yes,' said Felix, walking up to Wilmet to fold together the corners of the sheets they were stripping from Lance's bed, and looking into her eyes so archly as to bring up an incarnadine blush, 'I want particularly to improve my acquaintance, if you don't.—What shall we do, Lance?'
'Advertise in Pur,' suggested Lance. 'The editor returned. Young men may apply!'
'Don't, boys!' exclaimed Wilmet, in tones belonging to bygone days, when neither she nor Felix had been too serious to tease or be teased. 'He is much better than you,' she added, with a pretty confused petulance, when Felix put on a pleading inquisitive face. 'When he found we didn't like it, he went away to visit his uncle.'
'Better than we! There, Lance!' said Felix, in a gratified provoking tone of discovery.
'In one sense,' said Wilmet, walking down before him.
'I am very glad you have found it out,' added Felix, as they entered Mr. Froggatt's cool well-blinded bedroom, the only well-furnished one in the house.
'It is no laughing matter,' said Wilmet seriously.
'That's well,' was the dry answer.
But there Felix perceived that she was on the verge of tears, and he kindly and quietly helped her to despatch her arrangements for Lance before any more was said; only as they turned to bid the tired boy good-night, he said, 'Where does the uncle live? I shall telegraph to-morrow, you cruel person!'
'Hush! silly boy—good-night,' said Wilmet, with a quivering voice; then, as she shut the door, 'Please don't go on this way, Felix—I wouldn't have had it happen for any consideration.'
'I suppose not,' said Felix, as they returned to the twilight garden; 'but as it has—Why, my Mettie, dear!' as she pressed close to him, and hid her face on his shoulder, with a strong craving for the help and sympathy from which the motherless girl had hitherto been debarred.
'O Felix! I wish he would not be so good and kind! I wish you would not try to make me give in!'
'My dear girl!' said Felix, with his arm round her. 'You know I would not if I did not see that you had given in!'
'No, I haven't!' she cried. 'Why should you want to persuade me? Isn't it very cruel and hard to let him give all himself to one that can't come to him? He will have to go out and live all dreary and lonely for years and years, and come home to find nothing but a stupid old worn-out drudge, with all these pretty looks gone off! Felix, be reasonable, please! Can't you see that I ought not to let things go that way?'
'Do you mean,' said Felix, 'that you would be quite content to put an end to all this—let Harewood go away believing you indifferent, and never see him again?'
'Felix, why do you—?' with tears in her eyes.
'Because I am quite sure that the consideration you want to show him would be no kindness. The pain of having his affection thrown over' (he spoke with a spasm in the throat) 'would be greater than you would like to inflict, if you were forced by truth to own you did not care for him; and if he be what I think, the carrying away security of your feeling for him will be gladness enough. And as for the looks, I have a better opinion of yours than to think they won't wear! Any way, dearest, it seems to me that you have won the heart of a good man, and that if you like him, it is your duty to give him the comfort of knowing it without thinking about to-morrows.'
'But I know so much more would come if I did just allow that much! And I might get to wish to leave you all,' she said in an appalled voice. 'And there seems to me not the slightest chance. You see Alda and Cherry never will get on together; and Cherry seems glad of an excuse to stay from home. I thought she would have cared to come back when you did.'
'Poor Cherry!' said Felix, hesitating, with a little of her own nervous awe of broaching the subject.
'You don't mean that there is anything seriously amiss?' she cried, startled.
'Wilmet, do you remember what Rugg said would be the very best thing for that poor child?'
She stood still, dismayed and angered. 'They aren't tormenting the poor little thing about that?'
'It is not their doing.'
'It can't have become necessary! Sister Constance would have told me! Felix say she is not worse!'
'No, much better. But, Wilmet, what we could not bear to think of, she thought of for herself, and begged to have it done.'
'Then I must go to her.'
'There is no occasion. She knew you could not be spared. It was done on the 10th, and she will soon walk better than she has done all these years.'
'Done! without our knowledge?'
'She wished to spare us all, but that was not allowed. I was written to, and told that her strong desire was such a favourable condition, that I had better consent, so as not to protract the strain of spirits. She made a point of no one else knowing except Clement.'
'Ah!' Wilmet spoke as if under a weight, 'that was the day Clement went down to Dearport, and came home so late! How could Sister Constance consent not to tell me?'
'You must forgive her, for it was the little one's desire. Of course we should have been fetched if anything had gone wrong; but she has done perfectly well; and there she is, very happy, and so full of fun, that the Sisters say she keeps them all alive.'
'Done? I cannot fancy it!' said Wilmet. 'Do you know, I believe it has been my bugbear for years past to think I might have to persuade her to this?'
'To tell you the truth, so it has to me.'
'Little nervous timid thing, I can't even understand her thinking of it!'
'She wanted me not to tell you, but I would not promise. She could not rest without trying not to be an obstacle to—'
Wilmet interrupted with a cry of pain.
'Isn't it a noble little thing?'
'But it is so silly!' broke out Wilmet, not choosing her words amid her tears.
'So she thinks now, poor child: she is quite ashamed of the presumptuous notion that did brace and carry her through.'
'I don't like her to be disappointed,' said Wilmet; 'but it is quite ridiculous.'
'Only comfort her a little, Mettie dear, for she is very much afraid you will think she has taken a great liberty with your property.'
'I only wish I could kiss her this moment!'
'Well, run down by the train to-morrow. They would all be delighted.'
'No, no, Felix, impossible. Think of the cost!'
'Half a crown! Sinful waste!' said Felix, in a tone of alarming levity.
'Felix, if you only knew what the housekeeping mounted up in that unhappy month that I was away! I did not like to tell you before, but—'
'Well!' at the dreadful pause.
'I had to get fifteen pounds from Mr. Froggatt's; and Alda finds, after all, that she cannot advance the money for Lance's journey.'
'So you are pinching it out by pence, my poor W. W.!'
'Nothing extra must be done till this is made up.'
'Yet it seems needful that Bernard should go to school. I wrote about—'
'No,' she resolutely interrupted. 'Bernard must wait over this year. Thirty pounds. Utterly out of the question!'
Her tone gave Felix an unusual sense of chill penury, and brought Vale Leston before his eyes. He laughed rather bitterly, saying, 'Perhaps some day neither thirty pence nor thirty pounds may have so direful a sound!'
'I never mean to learn to waste.'
'You may have to learn to spend.'
'That's enough to set me against it!' she exclaimed, with a good deal of pain; and he found how nearly he had broken his resolution, and how her application of his words to herself had saved him. He followed the lead.
'Nay; you were glad of Alda's prosperity?'
'Oh yes; but poor Alda has been hindered from being like one of us,' she said. 'We have fought it out together. And I should not mind so much if he were poor, like us, and had to wait on his own account.'
'I appreciate that,' said Felix; 'but at least you will let the poor fellow come and judge for himself?'
'If—if only, Felix, you will promise not to try to tempt me into deserting you all, when I know it would be wrong.'
'If I will promise you not to cut my own throat, eh? Come, W. W., put out of your head "what it may lead to," confess that you are afraid of getting connected with such a mad harum-scarum set!'
'It isn't,' broke out Wilmet. 'I never saw any one so thoughtful and considerate. They are all so kind and warm-hearted, that I grew quite ashamed of my own fidgetiness; and he—he always knew the right thing at the right time. You can't think how his look seemed to hold me up, when poor Lance was moaning and talking nonsense!'
Having thus let herself out as she had never dared, nor indeed been tempted to do, since the first dawn of the courtship, Wilmet at last relieved herself of some of the vast sense of emotion that she had been forcing back for the last month. Hitherto the mistress of the house had seemed older than the master; but now the elder brother took the place of both parents—ay, and of sister—as, all her fencing over, she poured out her heart, and let him sympathize, cheer, soothe, and encourage, more by kind tones than actual words. The harvest-moon shone over the house-tops, as a month before she had shone by the river-side; and the Pillars of the House walked up and down till Alda grew desperate, and sallied out to tell them that it was past eleven.
It was only such snatches of time that Felix could give to home affairs, for his hands were full of arrears of business, and the excitement respecting Mr. Smith necessarily occupied him. Pending the arrival of letters from the Rector, every tongue was in commotion, and the reading-room was a focus of debate and centre of intelligence. So many letters, either in assault or defence, were addressed to the editor of the Pursuivant, that only a supplement as big as the Times could have contained them. Every poor person who had not had every demand supplied from the charities was running about, adding to the grievance at every encounter with tender-hearted lady or justice-loving gentleman, whose blood boiled over into a letter for the Pursuivant, which, when sifted and refused, was transferred to the Dearport Hermes, or Erms, as most of its supporters termed it.
'With asses all his time he spent,
Their club's perpetual president,
He caught their manners, looks, and airs—
An ass in everything but ears.'
Gay.
The master of the house was unable to contribute much more than his name to the propriety of the arrival of the suitors, and this made Wilmet the more determined that Geraldine should precede them. Nor, since the half-crown must be disbursed on an escort for her, did the housewifely conscience object to the expedition; for Wilmet could not but long to thank the Superior and Sister Constance, and to obtain Dr. Lee's advice as to future management. Her coming was great joy to Cherry, who had dreaded the meeting almost with a sense of guilt, though still hoping Felix had been silent on her motive; and Wilmet did not betray him, but only treated her sister with a mixture of almost shy tenderness and reverence. Nor did Cherry dare to ask a question as to Wilmet's own affairs, nor even about Ferdinand Travis, lest she should seem to be leading in that direction. However, Wilmet, in a persuasive tone, communicated that Ferdinand had been long without writing, and though Cherry tried to be sorry for Alda, her spirit quailed at the state of temper her sister evidently meant to prepare her for.
But fate was more kind than she expected. That very Saturday brought both gentlemen, and by the same train. They made each other out as they were leaving their bags at the Fortinbras Arms, and arrived together in marked contrast—the tall, dark, regular-featured, soft-eyed Life-guardsman, and the little sandy freckled sun-dried engineer; and thus two courtships had to be carried on in the two rooms, only supplemented by the narrow parallelogram of a garden! For Ferdinand Travis was back again, rather amused at the family astonishment at the rapidity of his journey to America, which to his Transatlantic notions of travel was as nothing, and indeed had been chiefly performed in a big steamer, where he could smoke to his heart's content.
For the first few days there was a good deal of restraint: Wilmet was more shy than in the unconscious days of Bexley; while John Harewood was devoid of his family's assurance and bonhomie, and so thoroughly modest and diffident as to risk nothing by precipitation in begging for a decision. Felix, inexperienced, and strongly sensible of his office as guardian of his sister's dignity, would not hint at the result of his investigations into Wilmet's sentiments; and it was to Geraldine that Captain Harewood's attentions were chiefly paid. Knowing Alda's resolute monopoly of her Cacique, Cherry at first held back, and restrained her keen enjoyment of real conversation; but she found Wilmet thankful to have the talk done for her, and content to sit at work, listening almost in silence, but proud that her Captain should be interested in her sister, and pleased to see Cherry's expressive face flash and sparkle all over for him. While Wilmet was at Miss Pearson's, Cherry was his chief resource; they read, drew, and talked, and in that half-hour's out-of-door exercise, which Dr. Lee had so strongly enjoined, his arm was at her service. They were soon on the borders of confidence, though never quite plunging over them. Perhaps the broad open-mouthed raillery at his home made the gentle reticence of the Underwoods the more agreeable to him; at any rate, he did not try to break through it, nor to presume beyond the step he had gained. Alda, who could best perhaps have acted as helper, had her own affairs to attend to; and they were evidently unsatisfactory, for Ferdinand was more than ever the silent melancholy Don, and she was to domestic eyes visibly cross, and her half-year at home had rendered her much less capable of concealing ill-humour. Something was owing to wear and suspense, together with the effects of the summer heat and confined monotonous life without change or luxury; but much was chargeable on the manifestations of temper to which she had given way in the home circle. She told Wilmet the trouble, which Ferdinand wished to have kept from open discussion till he had received a final statement of his means to lay before Felix. He had received no remittances since the spring, and on demanding his own share of the capital and investments, had found it, instead of the lion's, a ridiculously small portion. The whole fortunes of the house of Travis had been built on his mother's inheritance; but the accounts laid before him represented all the unprosperous speculations undertaken by his father, William, while the small ventures of his Uncle Alfred had, alongside of them, swelled into the huge wealth of which Ferdinand had been bred to believe himself the heir! So palpably outrageous was this representation, that he had persuaded himself that personal investigation on the spot would clear it up, or perhaps more truly, his blood was up, and he could not bear to be inactive. He had rushed over to New York, and of course he had been baffled. Exposure was of no use where sympathy was for the lucky rather than the duped and luckless, and where the Anglicised Life-guardsman could expect it least of all—at a time, too, when all business affairs were convulsed by the uncertainties of civil war. Alda could not believe at first that he had done his utmost, and seemed to have reproached him with weakness and mismanagement; but by her own account she had roused the innate lion. He would not tell her what had passed in the interview with his uncle, but he had shuddered over the remembrance; and when she upbraided him with not having gone far enough, he terrified her by the fierceness with which he had turned upon her, bidding her never recur to what she knew nothing about, and muttering to himself, 'Far enough—thank God I went no further, or I should not be here now!' and then falling into deep gloom. He had certainly made Alda afraid of him, and she burst into tears as she told Wilmet, declaring herself the most miserable girl in the world.
'No, that you can't be, Alda, while he is so good and true.'
'But he says he must sell out! Think of that! Never was anybody so taken in as I have been!'
'Don't talk so, Alda. It is just as if you had engaged yourself to a Life-guardsman and nothing else.'
'I wonder how you would like to be buried in some horrid wild place in America, where you would never see anybody!'
'One would not want to see anybody but him.'
'That's your nonsense! How tired of it one would be!'
'There would be no time. It would be so nice to do everything for him oneself!'
'In some horrid uncivilized place, with no servants! I'm not going to be a drudge. It is all very well for you, who like it, and have no notion of society, but for me—! And there he is furious to take me out. Men grow so wild and rough too in such places. You never saw anything blaze like his eyes!'
'I don't understand you. Could not you trust yourself anywhere with him?'
'You have no right to say such things,' pouted Alda, 'only because I have a little common prudence. Some one must have it!'
There was no denying that life in the far west would be a foolish thing either for or with Alda; and Felix thought so when Ferdinand came to him for consultation over the letters that made it finally clear that Alfred Travis had appropriated everything available but half a block of unreclaimed land on the wrong side of America, and a few thousands invested in Peter Brown's firm; and what was worse, the sudden failure of the supplies had occasioned serious debts. Ferdinand's own plan was to clear these off with the price of his commission, and take Alda out with him to rule in American luxury over the unbounded resources of the magnificent land, the very name and scent of which had awakened in him his old prairie-land instincts, and her absolute refusal and even alarm at his enjoyment had greatly mortified him. 'She should not even have to rough it,' he said. 'I could make her like a queen out there, if she would only believe it.'
Felix could not but think Alda might be wise, though it was not pretty wisdom. Go out alone and make the fortune? Ferdinand did not seem to think the separation possible. He said he would rather go to work in Peter Brown's office, where he had already a hold; and his familiarity with Spanish would secure him usefulness and promotion, and five or six years would bring him into a position to marry. He did not look fit for desk-work in London, but his mind was made up to any privation, so that he could be in reach of Alda, and hope to give her what he had once thought easily within his grasp.
Hearing this, Felix propounded an old longing of his—namely, to make the Pursuivant a daily paper, and use means for promptitude of intelligence, such as might neutralize the unpopularity it was incurring on behalf of Mr. Smith. Rumours of a rival paper were afloat; but if Ferdinand would throw in his capital, and undertake the joint editorship and proprietorship, the hold that the Pursuivant already had warranted quite success enough to permit an immediate marriage. There would be no need to be concerned with the shop; they might take a cottage in the country, and he need not ride in so often as every day. In fact, it was his capital rather than his personal assistance that was wanted. He caught at the notion. He was too Transatlantic to have any dignities to stand upon, and he said almost with tears in his eyes that he could never be so happy as in working with Felix; and he went off to the Fortinbras Arms, only lamenting that it was too late to tell Alda; while Felix, on his side, could not help knocking at Geraldine's door. Within he found another auditor, Wilmet, who still always helped Cherry to bed. 'It will be the making of the Pursuivant,' he said. How often I have sighed, "If I had but capital, or Mr. Froggatt enterprise!"'
'Ah, Felicissimo mio, that Pursuivant is as dear to you as any brother or sister of us all!'
'So it ought to be, for it has been the making of us.—Come Cherry, confess that you had rather see Pur triumph, than—'
'Than you at Vale Leston,' said Cherry, not knowing what a bolt she shot. 'It would be grand to steal a march on the enemy!'
'And safe?' asked Wilmet.
Felix demonstrated to the comprehending ears of his sisters the circulation that he could securely reckon upon.
'There would be an immense deal more to do,' said Cherry; but at that he smiled, full of vigour.
'True; but we should have a larger staff. There would be Fernan—'
'For the racing articles,' said Cherry dryly.
'And a good deal besides, which only needs application; and that he has.'
'He has great resolution,' said Cherry, 'but he always seems to me a sort of Christian panther of the wilderness; and you seem to be getting him into a cage.'
'Not such a cage as Peter Brown's office; and besides it is only when he is lashed up that the panther leaps about his den. Generally he is a quiet determined animal, with the practical Yankee element strong in him. It may be true, as Edgar says, that he does not see an inch on either side of his nose, but that only makes him go right away in the line he does see. I know he will work well.'
'If Alda—' said Cherry.
'Oh, she will be willing. A cottage in the country! Besides, it is the only reasonable possibility.'
'I should think it would satisfy her,' said Wilmet.
'And then—'
Everybody understood that 'And then.' It was Alda's pretension to be at the head of the family that was the chief obstacle to Wilmet's abdicating that post. Without her, Geraldine, stronger and less lame, might undertake the charge of the comparatively few permanently at home. Might indeed hardly expressed the amount of uncertainty as to her capability; and yet but for that 'And then,' Wilmet would hardly have yielded as she did the next day.
Stella had a blackberry fever. Possibly Wilmet's frugal regimen engendered a hankering for fruit, or it might have been the mere love of enterprise that rendered her eagerly desirous of an expedition to a lane where splendid blackberries were reported to grow. Since the day she had been lost, she had never been allowed to go out with Bernard; but in Lance she had acquired a much more complaisant play-fellow, who not only promised his escort to the lane, but the purchase of the sugar, and aid in the concoction of the jam; but he durst not venture till late in the day, and thereupon John Harewood suggested, 'Would not your sister be at liberty by that time?'
'Lance can take care of me,' said Stella; but in her eyes the whole romance of the expedition was destroyed by his acquiescence. 'We'll catch her as she comes out, and make her go with us.'
'Among all the girls?' laughed Cherry; and Captain Harewood coloured, shook his head, and shuddered.
'The girls won't hurt me,' said Lance, 'not if there were twenty hundred. I'll bring her from the very teeth of them. Jack may wait round the corner if he likes.'
The party waited, till their patience was worn to a thread, for the opening of the tall olive door, until Lance valiantly resolved on a single-handed assault, and had just mounted the steps, when it suddenly opened, and he found himself obstructing the path of a swarm of little girls and big, who all stared, most giggled, and some greeted him. To the least of these he confided that he wanted his sister, when she innocently piloted him to the school-room, where Wilmet, with her hat on, was keeping guard over three victims detained by unfinished tasks. Every one gazed at him as if he had been a sort of Actæon; but nothing daunted, he answered his sister's anxious exclamation. 'Nothing is the matter; but we are going for a walk, and want you.—Miss Maria,' he cried, as the sound of the unfeminine step and voice brought in one of the heads, 'please do let off these impositions, we do so want her!'
'What, you here! This is an invasion!' she added good-humouredly. 'Am I to take it as a convalescent's privilege?'
'Thank you, Ma'am,' said Lance, bowing with his audacious sweetness; 'and please let me have Wilmet. I'd do the impositions myself, only I don't know French.'
The victims tittered uncontrollably, and Miss Maria laughed, as one who, like her neighbours, descried why Wilmet was in request. 'I will attend to these exercises, Miss Underwood,' she said. 'You must not lose this fine evening for the idleness of these young ladies.'
'Indeed, Ma'am!' began Wilmet, in a blaze of colour. 'I never thought of such a thing.'
'I daresay not, my dear,' said Miss Maria; 'but now you had better do it. I wish you a pleasant walk.'
'Lance, how could you?' broke out Wilmet, as they descended the steps. 'I never was so ashamed in my life.'
'Never mind. We are going to get blackberries at Mile End Lane, and I shall lose Stella to a dead certainty if you don't come and look after her.'
'My dear Lance, I can't go all that way without their knowing it at home.'
'Oh! that's all settled with Cherry.'
'And where's Alda?'
'Off somewhere with her Don. Come, W. W., or who knows whether Stel and I shall ever come home?'
By this time they had reached the corner where Captain Harewood and Stella were lying perdu, and Wilmet made no more resistance, only keeping the little girl's not altogether willing hand till they came to the stile leading to the field and woodland, and then Stella's durance ended, and her adventures with Lance became as free as though no grave 'sister' had been near.
Perhaps, since Wilmet had perceived that surrender was her fate, she was willing that the summons should be over and a mutual understanding reached, so as to waste no more of the time already so short. However that might be, though the talk began with Lance's health and Cherry's talents, there was a tendency towards topics closer still; nor did she start aside, but rather listened pensively as to a strain that touched her quiet soul more deeply than she showed in word or gesture.
The blackberry lane was deep and hollow, the brambles outstretching their arching wreaths, laden with heavy clusters of shining fruit, glossy black, scarlet or green, sometimes with a lingering pearly flower. A step-ladder stile led down into it from the field, and on the topmost step, her back against the rail, sat Wilmet. On the lowest, turned at right angles to the first, was John Harewood, looking up to her; while scrambling on the bank, contending with the brambles, were the younger ones; Lance, unable to help now and then sending a furtive glance through the tangle.
It was a pretty sight. Sitting aloft, Wilmet was framed by an archway of meeting branches, with nothing but the pale opal of the evening sky behind the beautifully shaped head and shoulders, and the clear cut features, drooping just enough to enhance her own peculiar modest dignity, and give it a soft graciousness that had once been wanting. Her dress was the same in which Captain Harewood had first seen her—a plain black hat, a pale fawn-coloured skirt, and a loose open jacket over a white cambric vest and sleeves, only that now there had been a budding forth of dainty fresh knots of rose-coloured ribbon at the throat and down the front, as though a slight sensibility to the vanities as well as the cares of life had begun to dawn on the grave young house-mother.
Leaning back against the rough rail to assist the hand of the climber, John Harewood looked up with as much worship in his countenance as ever good man feels for the being he loves in all her maiden glory. Thus they had been for some moments, only broken by the children's distant calls, till the fervent words broke from him, 'May I not speak now?'
No word of reply sounded, but the delicate lips quivered and parted; the eyes were cast down, and seemed to swim in a soft mist of brightness; the queenly head bent, and the roseate tint on the cheek deepened and spread, while something came over the face that caused the low glad exclamation, 'You sweetest, I do believe you can love me!'
A tremulous smile, a glitter of tears on the eye-lashes—a whisper, 'You won't let me be able to help it!'
Then the hands were clasped, and no words but 'Thank you' would come to the young man's lips; and then, and the sound reminded him, he bowed his head, adding, 'Thank God!'
'Thank God!' echoed Wilmet softly. 'For indeed,' she added, as she let her eyes fully meet his ardent gaze, 'I know you will help me to do whatever may be His Will.'
'He helping me,' said John Harewood; and there was a reverent silence of untold peace and bliss, first interrupted by his long sigh of infinite relief and joy; and then, as he looked and looked with all his soul in his eyes, an exclamation, almost in spite of himself, 'You beautiful creature, you are mine indeed!'
Her colour deepened, but her lips moved into an odd little smile, out of which came the words, 'Isn't that rather foolish?'
'I couldn't help it—I beg your pardon,' said he, reddening. 'You do look so lovely! but indeed it is not the externals only, but what looks through.'
'And that is what makes me afraid,' said Wilmet, as the dew gathered on her eye-lashes. 'I don't think I'm so nice as you take me for.'
'Probably you don't,' he said, smiling.
'But just hear me,' she said, laying her hand on his, as if to silence him. 'You ought to know what all the others would tell you if they were not too kind. I know they all feel me strict, and managing, and domineering! Yes, it makes you laugh, but I really am. I don't think you would have liked me at all if you had not seen me out of my usual life, with only Lance—' and as all she said only made him press her hand the closer—'You see, I've always had to do things. Ever since I was a little girl I have had to keep order, great boys and all, and I know it has made me disagreeable;' then, in answer to some sound more incredulously negative than words, 'Yes indeed! Felix and all go to Cherry with whatever comes very near them. She hasn't been hardened and sharpened and dried up like me, and wasn't stupid to begin with.'
'Cherry is very clever, but she is—not—'
'Now don't. I know how it is. I know I'm horribly pretty, and I've been a wonder always for keeping the house going, and doing for them all, and so you fancy me everything charming; but I do so wish you could really know, as my brothers do, how it takes out of one all that is nice and sweet, and that people like.'
'People?' said John, smiling; but seeing that a mirthful even though a loving answer was not what she wanted, he gravely said, 'I do understand, dearest, that you have had to be too much of an authority to be altogether the companion and confidante that Geraldine is free to be, but perhaps I feel that this renders you more wholly and altogether my own.'
'Oh!'—a strange half sob—'do you know, I had just begun to know how solitary I was when Lance was so happy to get Robina, when you—'
'And if I told you all, you would know that I was feeling a certain loneliness at home, and that if you had asked my sisters, they would have said that Jack was not the harmonious element he appeared. There—there's a pleasing prospect!'
'But you'll not let me be masterful?' said Wilmet earnestly.
'Just as much as is good for me—for us,' he said, smiling. Then after a moment's silence, he took out of his pocket a little box, and making a table of her lap, took out a ring of twined ruby and diamonds, such as could not but startle the instincts of Wilmet's soul.
'Oh, it is a great deal too beautiful! Please, I couldn't—'
'You must. It was my mother's.'
'Then she cannot like to part with it.'
'Did you not know that she died when I was five years old? Look!' and he showed where within the lid of the box was written, 'For my Little Johnny's Wife. August 1839. L. H.'
'Ought you not to keep it till—' faltered Wilmet, growing crimson as she found what she was saying.
'No,' he said decidedly, 'not after this. When I spoke to my father that Sunday evening, he unlocked his desk and gave me this, which I had not seen since I remember playing with it on my mother's bed. You will wear it, dearest. You will let me have the pleasure of knowing you have it on.'
The answer was the drawing off of her glove; and he fitted it on, but it was rather loose. 'I am afraid it will want a guard,' he said.
'I'll ask Felix whether I may take one of Mamma's,' she said. For the shapely notable fingers had never worn a ring before this almost sacred pledge; and the few jewels either too valuable or not valuable enough for the parents to have parted with in times of need had never been touched.
'Do,' he said; 'I shall like that. The year 1839. Was not that the year a certain little girl was born?'
'The month. Our birth-day is on the 19th.' And the coincidence gave all the foolish delight such facts do under the circumstances.
'Was this long before she died?' asked Wilmet.
'The last day of that August. You never saw her brass in the cloister?'
'No; I never guessed that you were not Mrs. Harewood's son, though I wondered at your being so unlike the rest.'
'She has been kindness itself,' he warmly said. 'My father did well both for himself and me in marrying.'
'Tell me of your own mother,' said Wilmet, looking from the sparkling stones to the initials. 'L.— What was her name?'
'Lucy. Lucy Oglandby. My father was tutor at Oglandby Hall. There was a long attachment, through much opposition; and even when he was made priest-vicar after waiting six years, her father could not consent. After six years more, when her health was failing, he gave a sort of sanction on his death-bed. The rest of the family contrived to get her fortune so tied up that after her death it was of no use to any one till I came of age. She only lived seven years after her marriage, and then the Oglandbys wanted to take possession of me, and I fancy that drove my father into marrying.'
'Was it with them you went to stay?'
'Yes, my father makes a point of it; and they have a turn for patronizing me, if I would turn my back on home.'
'Now I understand better,' said Wilmet.
'You understand how much you were wanting to me,' he said, rightly interpreting the words. 'After five years' absence, while my sisters were growing up, you can perceive that dear, fond, and hearty as our house is, it did not fulfil all that perhaps I had been rather unreasonable in expecting. O Wilmet, this time of leave would have been very different if you had not come to the precincts!'
And so they fell back on the exquisite time present, which neither wished to disturb by looking beyond; and perhaps John felt as though his bird had scarcely perched, and any endeavours to hold it might make it flutter loose, while she was too glad of the calm and repose to renew the struggle between conflicting claims.
At last, with basket laden with dark fruit, and lips vying with the babes in the wood, Stella was launched on them by Lance, when his sense of time overpowered his half shy, half diverted respect for their bliss. He was very curious, but had to be satisfied with Captain Harewood's manner of tossing Stella over the stile, and bright look at himself.
They did not get into the town till the chimes of half-past seven were pealing. Captain Harewood hurried into the hotel, to prepare for the evening; and Wilmet was mounting the stairs, still under the spell of her newly-found joy, when she was startled by Alda's voice in a key of querulous anger.
'Exactly like you, always laying out for attention.'
'What's this?' said Wilmet, as she saw Alda in her habit, standing with her back to the open door, and Geraldine leaning on the table, trembling and tearful, crimson and burning even to passion in her panting reply, 'I don't know—except that he helped me in from the garden.'
'That's what I say,' retorted Alda. 'She is always putting herself forward, to be interesting, and get waited on. All affectation. I don't know such a flirt anywhere.'
'Hush, Alda! you are insulting Cherry,' said Wilmet, in her tone of command.
'Take care of yourself, Wilmet,' cried Alda; 'it is the way she goes on all day with Captain Harewood—reading poetry, and drawing, and all.'
'Captain Harewood knows,' said Wilmet, coming to the support of the quivering Geraldine, 'that the kinder he is to Cherry the better I like it.'
'Oh, if you do, it is your own concern. I only spoke for your sake.' And Alda marched off, while Wilmet's strong tender arms helped Cherry into her own room, and tended her through one of those gusts, part repentant, part hysterical, which had belonged to her earlier girlhood, though the present was now enhanced by the tumult of insulted maidenliness. Formerly, Wilmet had not treated these attacks on the soft system, but now all her bracing severity was gone. Greatly incensed with Alda, she gave her whole self to sympathy with the victim, showing herself so ineffably sweet and loving, that Cherry felt a thrill of delicious surprise; and as her eye lit on the glittering ring, a little ecstatic cry, still slightly hysterical, welcomed the token.
'O Wilmet, oh! You have! You have—'
'To be sure I have,' answered Wilmet, not in the least heeding what she said, in her anxiety to calm her sister. 'It is all right, if only you will not go and be silly about it.'
The woman was so much more than her words, that their odd simplicity, coming from the grand-looking figure bending over her in tender solicitude, touched Cherry the more, and she threw her arms round her sister's neck, whispering, 'Oh! I am so glad!'
Poor Wilmet! At that moment all her gladness had gone into a weight like lead on her heart, though it only made her more gentle. 'Dear Cherry,' she softly said, 'don't talk of anything to upset you. Will you be good and lie quite still while I take off my things, and then I'll come and dress you? You must not be knocked up to-night.'
'Oh! I had much rather stay here!'
'No indeed! John would be so disappointed. He does like you so much, and I always depend on you to make it pleasant for him. You can't send word that Alda has been scolding you.'
'Oh dear! why can't I behave decently to her the moment we are alone together?'
'Don't begin on that, for pity's sake, or you'll get crying again,' broke out Wilmet, in her natural voice. ''Tis she can't behave properly to anybody—that's all; so don't think any more about anything, like a good child, but lie still till I come back.'
So up went Wilmet, not rejoicing in her room-mate, whom she found, as usual, all injured innocence and self-justification.
'You have been petting Cherry all this time! She is quite spoilt among you! It is quite true what I said, though she didn't like it. In society, I never saw a more arrant flirt, with her pathetic ill-used airs. Why, Ferdinand actually found fault to-day with my manner to her!'