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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Lover or Friend, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Lover or Friend
+
+
+Author: Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+
+
+Release Date: May 22, 2009  [eBook #28925]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVER OR FRIEND***
+
+
+E-text prepared by David Clarke, Pilar Somoza Fernandez, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+   Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without note.
+   Inconsistent hyphenation has been retained as it appears in
+   the original.
+
+
+
+
+
+LOVER OR FRIEND
+
+by
+
+ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY
+
+Author of 'Nellie's Memories,' 'Not Like Other Girls,' Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MacMillan and Co., Limited
+St. Martin's Street, London
+1915
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF
+
+ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY
+
+POPULAR EDITION
+
+_Crown 8vo. Cloth extra. 3s. 6d. each._
+
+NELLIE'S MEMORIES.
+WEE WIFIE.
+BARBARA HEATHCOTE'S TRIAL.
+ROBERT ORD'S ATONEMENT.
+WOOED AND MARRIED.
+HERIOT'S CHOICE.
+QUEENIE'S WHIM.
+MARY ST. JOHN.
+NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS.
+FOR LILIAS.
+UNCLE MAX.
+ONLY THE GOVERNESS.
+LOVER OR FRIEND?
+BASIL LYNDHURST.
+SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS.
+THE OLD, OLD STORY.
+THE MISTRESS OF BRAE FARM.
+MRS. ROMNEY AND "BUT MEN MUST WORK."
+OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES.
+HERB OF GRACE.
+THE HIGHWAY OF FATE.
+RUE WITH A DIFFERENCE.
+A PASSAGE PERILOUS.
+AT THE MOORINGS.
+THE HOUSEHOLD OF PETER.
+NO FRIEND LIKE A SISTER.
+THE ANGEL OF FORGIVENESS.
+THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE HILL.
+THE KEY OF THE UNKNOWN.
+
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON.
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+LOVER OR FRIEND
+
+MacMillan and Co., Limited
+London · Bombay · Calcutta
+Melbourne
+
+The MacMillan Company
+New York · Boston · Chicago
+Dallas · San Francisco
+
+The MacMillan Co. of Canada, Ltd.
+Toronto
+
+Copyright
+_First Edition_ 1890
+_Reprinted_ 1893, 1894, 1898, 1899, 1901, 1902, 1904, 1906, 1910, 1915
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAP.                                                               PAGE
+
+1. THE BLAKE FAMILY ARE DISCUSSED                                      1
+
+2. AUDREY INTRODUCES HERSELF                                           9
+
+3. THE BLAKE FAMILY AT HOME                                           18
+
+4. MICHAEL                                                            28
+
+5. THE NEW MASTER                                                     36
+
+6. THE GRAY COTTAGE                                                   47
+
+7. KESTER'S HERO                                                      56
+
+8. 'I HOPE BETTER THINGS OF AUDREY'                                   67
+
+9. MAT                                                                78
+
+10. PRISCILLA BAXTER                                                  88
+
+11. 'A GIRL AFTER MY OWN HEART'                                       97
+
+12. MOLLIE GOES TO DEEP-WATER CHINE                                  107
+
+13. GERALDINE GIVES HER OPINION                                      117
+
+14. 'I AM SORRY YOU ASKED THE QUESTION'                              126
+
+15. MRS. BLAKE HAS HER NEW GOWN                                      137
+
+16. MOLLIE LETS THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG                               146
+
+17. AMONG THE BRAIL LANES                                            155
+
+18. ON A SCOTCH MOOR                                                 165
+
+19. YELLOW STOCKINGS ON THE TAPIS                                    174
+
+20. 'THE LITTLE RIFT'                                                183
+
+21. 'HE IS VERY BRAVE'                                               192
+
+22. 'NO, YOU HAVE NOT SPARED ME'                                     202
+
+23. 'DADDY, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU'                                  210
+
+24. 'I FELT SUCH A CULPRIT, YOU SEE'                                 222
+
+25. MR. HARCOURT SPEAKS HIS MIND                                     232
+
+26. HOW GERALDINE TOOK IT TO HEART                                   242
+
+27. WHAT MICHAEL THOUGHT OF IT                                       252
+
+28. MICHAEL TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF                                    261
+
+29. TWO FAMILY EVENTS                                                269
+
+30. 'I COULD NOT STAND IT ANY LONGER, TOM'                           278
+
+31. 'WILL YOU CALL THE GUARD?'                                       286
+
+32. 'I DID NOT LOVE HIM'                                             295
+
+33. 'SHALL YOU TELL HIM TO-NIGHT?'                                   305
+
+34. 'I MUST THINK OF MY CHILD, MIKE'                                 313
+
+35. 'OLIVE WILL ACKNOWLEDGE ANYTHING'                                323
+
+36. 'HOW CAN I BEAR IT?'                                             332
+
+37. 'I SHALL NEVER BE FREE'                                          341
+
+38. 'WHO WILL COMFORT HIM?'                                          351
+
+39. 'YOU WILL LIVE IT DOWN'                                          360
+
+40. MICHAEL ACCEPTS HIS CHARGE                                       368
+
+41. 'THERE SHALL BE PEACE BETWEEN US'                                378
+
+42. 'WILL YOU SHAKE HANDS WITH YOUR FATHER?'                         389
+
+43. MICHAEL'S LETTER                                                 399
+
+44. MOLLIE GOES INTO EXILE                                           409
+
+45. AUDREY RECEIVES A TELEGRAM                                       418
+
+46. 'INASMUCH'                                                       426
+
+47. A STRANGE EXPIATION                                              435
+
+48. ON MICHAEL'S BENCH                                               445
+
+49. 'LET YOUR HEART PLEAD FOR ME'                                    456
+
+50. BOOTY'S MASTER                                                   464
+
+51. 'LOVE'S AFTERMATH'                                               472
+
+
+
+
+LOVER OR FRIEND?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE BLAKE FAMILY ARE DISCUSSED
+
+     'There is nothing, sir, too little for so little a creature as man.
+     It is by studying little things that we attain the great art of
+     having as little misery and as much happiness as possible.'--DR.
+     JOHNSON.
+
+
+Everyone in Rutherford knew that Mrs. Ross was ruled by her eldest
+daughter; it was an acknowledged fact, obvious not only to a keen-witted
+person like Mrs. Charrington, the head-master's wife, but even to the
+minor intelligence of Johnnie Deans, the youngest boy at Woodcote. It
+was not that Mrs. Ross was a feeble-minded woman; in her own way she was
+sensible, clear-sighted, with plenty of common-sense; but she was a
+little disposed to lean on a stronger nature, and even when Geraldine
+was in the schoolroom, her energy and youthful vigour began to assert
+themselves, her opinions insensibly influenced her mother's, until at
+last they swayed her entirely.
+
+If this were the case when Geraldine was a mere girl, it was certainly
+not altered when the crowning glories of matronhood were added to her
+other perfections. Six months ago Geraldine Ross had left her father's
+house to become the wife of Mr. Harcourt, of Hillside; and in becoming
+the mistress of one of the coveted Hill houses, Geraldine had not yet
+consented to lay down the sceptre of her home rule.
+
+Mrs. Ross had acquiesced cheerfully in this arrangement. She had lost
+her right hand in losing Geraldine; and during the brief honeymoon both
+she and her younger daughter Audrey felt as though the home machinery
+were somewhat out of gear. No arrangement could be effected without a
+good deal of wondering on Mrs. Ross's part as to what Geraldine might
+think of it, and without a lengthy letter being written on the subject.
+
+It was a relief, at least to her mother's mind, when young Mrs. Harcourt
+returned, and without a word took up the reins again. No one disputed
+her claims. Now and then there would be a lazy protest from Audrey--a
+concealed sarcasm that fell blunted beneath the calm amiability of the
+elder sister. Geraldine was always perfectly good-tempered; the sense of
+propriety that guided all her actions never permitted her to grow hot in
+argument; and when a person is always in the right, as young Mrs.
+Harcourt believed herself to be, the small irritations of daily life
+fall very harmlessly. It is possible for a man to be so cased in armour
+that even a pin-prick of annoyance will not find ingress. It is true the
+armour may be a little stifling and somewhat inconvenient for work-a-day
+use, but it is a grand thing to be saved from pricks.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt was presiding at the little tea-table in the Woodcote
+drawing-room; there were only two other persons in the room. It was
+quite an understood thing that the young mistress of Hillside should
+walk over to Woodcote two or three afternoons in the week, to give her
+mother the benefit of her society, and also to discuss any little matter
+that might have arisen during her brief absence.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt was an exceedingly handsome young woman; in fact, many
+people thought her lovely. She had well-cut features, a good
+complexion--with the soft, delicate colouring that only perfect health
+ever gives--and a figure that was at once graceful and dignified. To add
+to all these attractions, she understood the art of dressing herself;
+her gowns always fitted her to perfection. She was always attired
+suitably, and though vanity and self-consciousness were not her natural
+foibles, she had a feminine love of pretty things, and considered it a
+wifely duty to please the eyes of her lord and master.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt had the old-fashioned sugar-tongs in her hand, and was
+balancing them lightly for a moment. 'It is quite true, mother,' she
+said decisively, as she dropped the sugar into the shallow teacup.
+
+Mrs. Ross looked up from her knitting.
+
+'My dear Geraldine, I do hope you are mistaken,' she returned
+anxiously.
+
+Mrs. Ross had also been a very pretty woman, and even now she retained a
+good deal of pleasant middle-aged comeliness. She was somewhat stout,
+and had grown a little inactive in consequence; but her expression was
+soft and motherly, and she had the unmistakable air of a gentlewoman. In
+her husband's eyes she was still handsomer than her daughters; and Dr.
+Ross flattered himself that he had made the all-important choice of his
+life more wisely than other men.
+
+'My dear mother, how is it possible to be mistaken?' returned her
+daughter, with a shade of reproof in her voice. 'I told you that I had a
+long talk with Edith. Michael, I have made your tea; I think it is just
+as you like it--with no infusion of tannin, as you call it'; and she
+turned her head slowly, so as to bring into view the person she was
+addressing, and who, seated at a little distance, had taken no part in
+the conversation.
+
+He was a thin, pale man, of about five or six and thirty, with a reddish
+moustache. As he crossed the room in response to this invitation, he
+moved with an air of languor that amounted to lassitude, and a slight
+limp was discernible. His features were plain; only a pair of clear blue
+eyes, with a peculiarly searching expression, distinguished him from a
+hundred men of the same type.
+
+These eyes were not always pleasant to meet. Certain people felt
+disagreeably in their inner consciousness that Captain Burnett could
+read them too accurately--'No fellow has a right to look you through and
+through,' as one young staff officer observed; 'it is taking a liberty
+with a man. Burnett always seems as though he is trying to turn a fellow
+inside out, to get at the other side of him'--not a very eloquent
+description of a would-be philosopher who loved to dabble a little in
+human foibles.
+
+'I have been listening to the Blake discussion,' he said coolly, as he
+took the offered cup. 'What a wonderful woman you are, Gage! you have a
+splendid talent for organisation; and even a thorough-paced scandal has
+to be organised.'
+
+'Scandal!--what are you talking about, Michael?'
+
+'Your talent for organisation, even in trifles,' he returned promptly.
+'I am using the word advisedly. I have just been reading De Quincey's
+definition of talent and genius. He says--now pray listen, Gage--that
+"talent is intellectual power of every kind which acts and manifests
+itself by and through the will and the active forces. Genius, as the
+verbal origin implies, is that much rarer species of intellectual power
+which is derived from the genial nature, from the spirit of suffering
+and enjoying, from the spirit of pleasure and pain, as organised more or
+less perfectly; and this is independent of the will. It is a function of
+the passive nature. Talent is conversant with the adaptation of means to
+ends; but genius is conversant only with ends."'
+
+'My dear Michael, I have no doubt that all this is exceedingly clever,
+and that your memory is excellent, but why are we to be crushed beneath
+all this analysis?'
+
+'I was only drawing a comparison between you and Audrey,' he replied
+tranquilly. 'I have been much struck by the idea involved in the word
+"genial"; I had no conception we could evolve "genius" out of it. Audrey
+is a very genial person; she also, in De Quincey's words, "moves in
+headlong sympathy and concurrence with spontaneous power." This is his
+definition, mark you; I lay no claim to it: "Genius works under a
+rapture of necessity and spontaneity." I do love that expression,
+"headlong sympathy"; it so well expresses the way Audrey works.'
+
+Mrs. Harcourt gave a little assenting shrug. She was not quite pleased
+with the turn the conversation had taken; abstract ideas were not to her
+taste; the play of words in which Captain Burnett delighted bored her
+excessively. She detected, too, a spice of irony. The comparison between
+her and Audrey was not a flattering one: she was far cleverer than
+Audrey; her masters and governesses would have acknowledged that fact.
+And yet her cousin Michael was giving the divine gift of genius to her
+more scantily endowed sister; genius! but, of course, it was only
+Michael's nonsense: he would say anything when he was in the humour for
+disputation. Even her own Percival had these contentious moods. The
+masculine mind liked to play with moral ninepins, to send all kinds of
+exploded theories rolling with their little ball of wit; it sharpened
+their argumentative faculties, and kept them bright and ready for use.
+
+'Mother and I were talking about these tiresome Blakes--not of Audrey,'
+she said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. 'If you were listening,
+Michael, you must have heard the whole account of my conversation with
+Mrs. Bryce.'
+
+'Oh, you mean Harcourt's sister, with whom you have been staying. Did I
+not tell you that I had heard every word, and was admiring your
+admirable tactics? The way in which you marshalled your forces of
+half-truths and implied verities and small mounted theories was
+grand--absolutely grand!'
+
+Mrs. Harcourt was silent for a moment. Michael was very trying; he often
+exercised her patience most severely. But there was a threefold reason
+for her forbearance; first, he was her father's cousin, and beloved by
+him as his own son would have been if he had ever had one; secondly, his
+ill-health entitled him to a good deal of consideration from any
+kind-hearted woman; and thirdly, and perhaps principally, he had the
+reputation for saying and doing odd, out-of-the-way things; and a man
+who moves in an eccentric circle of his own is never on other people's
+plane, and therefore some allowance must be made for him.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt could, however, have heartily endorsed Mrs. Carlyle's
+opinion of her gifted son, and applied it to her cousin--'He was ill to
+live with.' Somehow one loves this honest, shrewd criticism of the old
+North-Country woman, the homely body who smoked short black pipes in the
+chimney-corner, but whom Carlyle loved and venerated from the bottom of
+his big heart. 'Ill to live with'--perhaps Michael Burnett, with his
+injured health and Victoria Cross, and the purpose of his life all
+marred and frustrated, was not the easiest person in the world.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt was silent for an instant; but she never permitted herself
+to be ruffled, so she went on in her smooth voice:
+
+'I felt it was my duty to repeat to mother all that Edith--I mean Mrs.
+Bryce--told me about the Blakes.'
+
+'Please do not be so formal. I infinitely prefer that fine,
+princess-like name of Edith,' remarked Michael, with a lazy twinkle in
+his eyes; but Mrs. Harcourt would not condescend even to notice the
+interruption.
+
+'Mrs. Bryce,' with a pointed emphasis on the name, 'was much concerned
+when she heard that my father had engaged Mr. Blake for his classical
+master.'
+
+'And why so?' demanded Captain Burnett a little sharply. 'He has taken a
+good degree; Dr. Ross seems perfectly satisfied with him.'
+
+'Oh, there is nothing against the young man; he is clever and pleasant,
+and very good-looking. It is only the mother who is so objectionable.
+Perhaps I am putting it too strongly--only Mrs. Bryce and her husband
+did not like her. They say she is a very unsatisfactory person, and so
+difficult to understand.'
+
+'Poor Mrs. Blake,' ejaculated her cousin, 'to be judged before the Bryce
+tribunal and found wanting!'
+
+'Don't be ridiculous, Michael!' replied Mrs. Harcourt, in her
+good-tempered way; 'of course you take her part simply because she is
+accused: you are like Audrey in that.'
+
+'You see we are both genial persons; but, seriously, Mrs. Blake's list
+of misdemeanours seems absurdly trifling. She is very handsome; that is
+misdemeanour number one, I believe.'
+
+'My dear,' observed Mrs. Ross placidly at this point, for she had been
+too busy counting her stitches to concern herself with the strife of
+words, 'Geraldine only mentioned that as a fact: she remarked that Mrs.
+Blake was a very prepossessing person, that she had rather an uncommon
+type of beauty.'
+
+'That makes her all the more interesting,' murmured Captain Burnett,
+with his eyes half closed. 'I begin to feel quite excited about this
+Mrs. Blake. I do delight in anything out of the common.'
+
+'Oh, Edith never denied that she was fascinating. She is a clever woman,
+too; only there were certain little solecisms committed that made her
+think Mrs. Blake was not a thorough gentlewoman. They are undoubtedly
+very poor; and though, of course, that is no objection, it is so absurd
+for people in such a position to try and ignore their little shifts and
+contrivances. Honest poverty is to be respected, but not when it is
+allied to pretension.'
+
+'My dear Gage, was it you or Mrs. Bryce who made that exceedingly clever
+speech! It was really worthy of Dr. Johnson; it only wanted a "Sir" to
+point the Doctor's style. "Sir, honest poverty is to be respected, but
+not when it is allied to pretension"--a good, thorough Johnsonian
+speech! And so the poor woman is poor?'
+
+'Yes, but no one minds that,' returned Mrs. Harcourt, somewhat hastily.
+'I hope you do not think that anything in her outward circumstances has
+prejudiced my sister-in-law against her. As far as that goes, Mrs. Blake
+deserves credit; she has denied herself comforts even to give her son a
+good education. No, it is something contradictory in the woman herself
+that made the Bryces say they would never get on with her. She is
+impulsive, absurdly impulsive; and yet at the same time she is reserved.
+She has a bad temper--at least, Edith declares she has heard her
+scolding her servant in no measured terms; and then she is so
+injudicious with her children. She absolutely adores her eldest son,
+Cyril; but Edith will have it that she neglects her daughter. And there
+is an invalid boy, too--a very interesting little fellow; at least, I
+don't know how old he is--and she is not too attentive to him.
+Housekeeping worries her, and she is fond of society; and I know the
+Bryces think that she would marry again if she got the chance.'
+
+'Let the younger widows marry. I hope you do not mean to contradict St.
+Paul. Have we quite finished the indictment, Gage? Be it known unto the
+inhabitants of Rutherford that a certain seditious and dangerous person
+of the name of Blake is about to take up her residence in the town--the
+list of her misdemeanours being as follows, to wit, as they say in old
+chronicles: an uncommon style of beauty, an inclination to replace the
+deceased Mr. Blake, imperfect temper, impulsiveness tempered with
+reserve, unconventionality of habit, poverty combined with
+pretentiousness, and a disposition to slight her maternal duties--really
+a most interesting person!'
+
+'Michael, of course you say that to provoke me; please don't listen to
+him, mother. You understand me if no one else does; you know it is
+Audrey of whom I am thinking. Yes,' turning to her cousin, 'you may
+amuse yourself with turning all my speeches into ridicule, but in your
+heart you agree with me. I have often heard you lecturing Audrey on her
+impulsiveness and want of common-sense. It will be just like her to
+strike up a violent friendship with Mrs. Blake--you know how she takes
+these sudden fancies; and father is quite as bad. I daresay they will
+both discover she is charming before twenty-four hours are over; that is
+why I am begging mother to be very prudent, and keep the Blakes at a
+distance.'
+
+'You agree, of course, Cousin Emmeline?'
+
+'Well, my dear, I don't quite like the account Geraldine gives me. Mrs.
+Bryce is a very shrewd person; she is not likely to make mistakes. I
+think I shall give Audrey a hint, unless you prefer to do so,
+Geraldine.'
+
+'I think it will come better from me, mother; you see, I shall just
+retail Edith's words. Audrey is a little difficult to manage sometimes;
+she likes to form her own notions of people. There is no time to be lost
+if they are coming in to-morrow.'
+
+'I thought your father said it was to-day that they were expected?'
+
+'No; I am positive Percival said to-morrow. I know the old servant and
+some of the furniture arrived at the Gray Cottage two days ago.'
+
+Captain Burnett looked up quickly, as though he were about to speak, and
+then changed his mind, and went on with his occupation, which was
+teaching a small brown Dachs-hund the Gladstone trick.
+
+'Now, Booty, when I say "Lord Salisbury," you are to eat the sugar, but
+not before. Ah, here comes the bone of contention!' he went on in a
+purposely loud tone, as a shadow darkened the window; and the next
+minute a tall young lady stepped over the low sill into the room.
+
+'Were you talking about me?' she asked in a clear voice, as she looked
+round at them. 'How do you do, Gage? Have you been here all the
+afternoon? How is Percival? No more tea, thank you; I have just had
+some--at the Blakes'.'
+
+'At the Blakes'?' exclaimed her sister, in a horror-stricken tone,
+unable to believe her ears.
+
+'Yes. I heard they had come in last night, so I thought it would be only
+neighbourly to call and see if one could do anything for them. I met
+father on the Hill, and he quite approved. Mrs. Blake sends her
+compliments to you, mother;' and as only an awful silence answered her,
+she continued innocently: 'I am sure you and Gage will like her. She is
+charming--perfectly charming! the nicest person I have seen for a long
+time!' finished Audrey, with delightful unconsciousness of the sensation
+she was creating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+AUDREY INTRODUCES HERSELF
+
+     'Indeed, all faults, had they been ten times more and greater,
+     would have been neutralised by that supreme expression of her
+     features, to the unity of which every lineament in the fixed parts,
+     and every undulation in the moving parts of her countenance,
+     concurred, viz., a sunny benignity, a radiant graciousness, such as
+     in this world I never saw surpassed.'
+
+                                                      DE QUINCEY.
+
+
+In this innocent fashion had Audrey Ross solved the Gordian knot of
+family difficulty, leaving her mother and sister eyeing each other with
+the aghast looks of defeated conspirators; and it must be owned that
+many a tangled skein, that would have been patiently and laboriously
+unravelled by the skilled fingers of Geraldine, was spoilt in this
+manner by the quick impulsiveness of Audrey.
+
+No two sisters could be greater contrasts to each other. While young
+Mrs. Harcourt laid an undue stress on what may be termed the minor
+morals, the small proprieties, and lesser virtues that lie on the
+surface of things and give life its polish, Audrey was for ever riding
+full-tilt against prejudices or raising a crusade against what she chose
+to term 'the bugbear of feminine existence--conventionality.'
+
+Not that Audrey was a strong-minded person or a stickler for woman's
+rights. She had no advanced notions, no crude theories, on the subject
+of emancipation; it was only, to borrow Captain Burnett's words, that
+her headlong sympathies carried her away; a passionate instinct of pity
+always made her range herself on the losing side. Her virtues were
+unequally balanced, and her generosity threatened to degenerate into
+weakness. Most women love to feel the support of a stronger nature;
+Audrey loved to support others; any form of suffering, mental or
+physical, appealed to her irresistibly. Her sympathy was often
+misplaced and excessive, and her power of self-effacement, under some
+circumstances, was even more remarkable, the word 'self-effacement'
+being rightly used here, as 'self-sacrifice' presupposes some
+consciousness of action. It was this last trait that caused genuine
+anxiety to those who knew and loved Audrey best; for who can tell to
+what lengths a generous nature may go, to whom any form of pain is
+intolerable, and every beggar, worthy or unworthy, a human brother or
+sister, with claims to consideration?
+
+If Audrey were not as clever as her elder sister, she had more
+originality; she was also far more independent in her modes of action
+and thought, and went on her own way without reference to others.
+
+'It is not that I think myself wiser than other people,' she said once
+to her cousin, who had just been delivering her a lecture on this
+subject. 'Of course I am always making mistakes--everyone does; but you
+see, Michael, I have lived so long with myself--exactly two-and-twenty
+years--and so I must know most about myself, and what is best for this
+young person,' tapping herself playfully.
+
+Audrey was certainly not so handsome as her sister. She had neither
+Geraldine's perfection of feature nor her exquisite colouring; but she
+had her good points, like other people.
+
+Her hair was soft and brown, and there was a golden tinge in it that was
+greatly admired. There was also a depth and expression in her gray eyes
+that Geraldine lacked. But the charm of Audrey's face was her smile. It
+was no facial contortion, no mere lip service; it was a heart
+illumination--a sudden radiance that seemed to light up every feature,
+and which brought a certain lovely dimple into play.
+
+And there was one other thing noticeable in Audrey, and which brought
+the sisters into still sharper contrast. She was lamentably deficient in
+taste, and, though personally neat, was rather careless on the subject
+of dress. She liked an old gown better than a new one, was never quite
+sure which colour suited her best, and felt just as happy paying a round
+of calls in an old cambric as in the best tailor-made gown. It was on
+this subject that she and Geraldine differed most. No amount of spoken
+wisdom could make Audrey see that she was neglecting her opportunities
+to a culpable degree; that while other forms of eccentricity might be
+forgiven, the one unpardonable sin in Geraldine's code was Audrey's
+refusal to make the best of herself.
+
+'And you do look so nice when you are well dressed,' she observed with
+mournful affection on one occasion when Audrey had specially
+disappointed her. 'You have a beautiful figure--Madame Latouche said so
+herself--and yet you would wear that hideous gown Miss Sewell has made,
+and at Mrs. Charrington's "at home," too.'
+
+'How many people were affected by this sad occurrence?' asked Audrey
+scornfully. 'My dear Gage, your tone is truly tragical. Was it my
+clothes or me--poor little me!--that Mrs. Charrington invited and wanted
+to see? Do you know, Michael,' for that young man was present, 'I have
+such a grand idea for the future; a fashion to come in with Wagner's
+music, and æsthetics, and female lawyers--in fact, an advanced theory
+worthy of the nineteenth century. You know how people hate "at homes,"
+and how bored they are, and how they grumble at the crush and the
+crowd.'
+
+'Well, I do believe they are hideous products of civilisation,' he
+returned with an air of candour.
+
+'Just so; well, now for my idea. Oh, I must send it to _Punch_, I really
+must. My proposition is that people should send their card by their
+lady's-maid, and also the toilette intended for that afternoon, to be
+inspected by the hostess. Can you not imagine the scene? First comes the
+announcement by the butler: "Lady Fitzmaurice's clothes." Enter smiling
+lady's-maid, bearing a wondrously braided skirt with plush mantle and
+bonnet with pheasant's wing. Hostess bows, smiles, and inspects garments
+through her eyeglasses. "Charming! everything Lady Fitzmaurice wears is
+in such perfect taste. My dear Cecilia, that bonnet would just suit
+me--make a note of it, please. My compliments to her ladyship." Now then
+for Mrs. Grenville, and so on. Crowds still, you see, but no
+hand-shaking, no confusion of voices; and then, the wonderful economy:
+no tea and coffee, no ices, no professional artistes, only a little
+refreshment perhaps in the servants' hall.'
+
+'Audrey, how can you talk such nonsense?' returned her sister severely.
+
+But Captain Burnett gave his low laugh of amusement. He revelled in the
+girl's odd speeches; he thought Audrey's nonsense worth more than all
+Geraldine's sense, he even enjoyed with a man's _insouciance_ her daring
+disregard of conventionality.
+
+How difficult it is for a person thoroughly to know him or her self,
+unless he or she be morbidly addicted to incessant self-examination!
+Audrey thought that it was mere neighbourliness that induced her to call
+on the Blakes that afternoon; she had no idea that a strong curiosity
+made her wish to interview the new-comers.
+
+Rutherford was far too confined an area for a liberal mind like
+Audrey's. Her large and intense nature demanded fuller scope for its
+energies. With the exception of boys--who certainly preponderated in
+Rutherford--there were far too few human beings to satisfy Audrey. Every
+fresh face was therefore hailed by her with joy, and though perhaps she
+hardly went to Dr. Johnson's length when he complained that he
+considered that day lost on which he had not made a new acquaintance,
+still, her social instincts were not sufficiently nourished. The few
+people were busy people; they had a tiresome habit, too, of forming
+cliques, and in many ways they disappointed her. With her richer
+neighbours, especially among the Hill houses, Geraldine was the reigning
+favourite; Mrs. Charrington was devoted to her. Only little Mrs.
+Stanfield, of Rosendale, thought there was no one in the world like dear
+Audrey Ross.
+
+Audrey would not have mentioned her little scheme to her mother for
+worlds. Her mother was not a safe agent. She had long ago made Geraldine
+her conscience-keeper, but she had no objection to tell her father when
+she met him walking down the hill with his hands behind him, and
+evidently revolving his next Sunday's sermon.
+
+Dr. Ross was rather a fine-looking man. He had grown gray early, and his
+near-sight obliged him to wear spectacles; but his keen, clever face,
+and the benevolent and kindly air that distinguished him, always
+attracted people to him. At times he was a little absent and whimsical;
+and those who knew them both well declared that Audrey had got all her
+original ideas and unconventional ways from the Doctor.
+
+'Father, I am going to call on the Blakes,' she observed, as he was
+about to pass her as he would a stranger.
+
+'Dear me, Audrey, how you startled me! I was deep in original sin, I
+believe. The Blakes? Oh, I told young Blake to come up to dinner
+to-night; I want Michael to see him. Very well. Give my respects to Mrs.
+Blake; and if there be any service we can render her, be sure you offer
+it;' and Dr. Ross walked on, quite unconscious that his daughter had
+retraced her steps, and was following him towards the town. 'For I
+won't disturb him with my chatter,' she thought, 'and I may as well go
+to Gage to-morrow; she is sure to keep me, and then it would be rather
+awkward if she should take it into her head to talk about the Blakes.
+She might want to go with me, or perhaps, which is more likely, she
+would make a fuss about my going so soon. If you want to do a thing, do
+it quickly, and without telling anyone, is my motto. Father is no one.
+If I were going to run away from home, or do anything equally
+ridiculous, I should be sure to tell father first; he would only
+recommend me to go first class, and be sure to take a cab at the other
+end, bless him!'
+
+Dr. Ross walked on in a leisurely, thoughtful fashion, not too
+abstracted, however, to wave his hand slightly as knots of boys saluted
+him in passing. Audrey had a nod and smile for them all. At the Hill
+houses and at the school-house Geraldine might be the acknowledged
+favourite; but every boy in the upper and the lower school was Audrey's
+sworn adherent. She was their liege lady, for whom they were proud to do
+service; and more than one of the prefects cherished a tremulous passion
+for the Doctor's daughter together with his budding moustache, and,
+strange to say, was none the worse for the mild disease.
+
+A pleasant lane led from the Hill to the town, with sloping meadows on
+one side. It was a lovely afternoon in June, and groups of boys were
+racing down the field path on their way to the cricket ground. Audrey
+looked after them with a vivid interest. 'How happy they all look!' she
+said to herself. 'I do believe a boy--a real honest, healthy English
+boy--is one of the finest things in the creation. They are far happier
+than girls; they have more freedom, more zest, in their lives. If they
+work hard, they play well; every faculty of mind and body is trained to
+perfection. Look at Willie Darner running down that path! he is just
+crazy with the summer wind and the frolic of an afternoon's holiday.
+There is nothing to match with his enjoyment, unless it be a kitten
+sporting with the flying leaves, or a butterfly floating in the
+sunshine. He has not a care, that boy, except how he is to get over the
+ground fast enough.'
+
+Audrey had only a little bit of the town to traverse, but her progress
+was almost as slow and stately as a queen's. She had so many friends to
+greet, so many smiles and nods and how-d'ye-do's to execute; but at last
+she arrived at her destination. The Gray Cottage was a small stone
+house, placed between Dr. Ross's house and the school-house, with two
+windows overlooking the street. The living-rooms were at the back, and
+the view from them was far pleasanter, as Audrey well knew. From the
+drawing-room one looked down on the rugged court of the school-house,
+and on the gray old arches, through which one passed to the chapel and
+library. The quaint old buildings, with the stone façade, hoary with
+age, was the one feature of interest that always made Audrey think the
+Gray Cottage one of the pleasantest houses in Rutherford. Audrey knew
+every room. She had looked out on the old school-house often and often;
+she knew exactly how it looked in the moonlight, or on a winter's day
+when the snow lay on the ground, and the ruddy light of a December
+sunset tinged the windows and threw a halo over the old buildings. But
+she liked to see it best in the dim starlight, when all sorts of shadows
+seemed to lurk between the arches, and a strange, solemn light invested
+it with a legendary and imaginative interest.
+
+A heavy green gate shut off the Gray Cottage from the road. Audrey
+opened it, and walked up to the door, which had always stood open in the
+old days when her friends, the Powers, had lived there. It was open now;
+a profusion of packing-cases blocked up the spacious courtyard, and a
+black retriever was lying on some loose straw--evidently keeping watch
+and ward over them. He shook himself lazily as Audrey spoke to him, and
+then wagged his tail in a friendly fashion, and finally uttered a short
+bark of welcome.
+
+Audrey stooped down and stroked his glossy head. She always made friends
+with every animal--she had a large four-footed acquaintance with whom
+she was on excellent terms--from Jenny, the cobbler's donkey, down to
+Tim, the little white terrier that belonged to the sweep. She had just
+lost her own companion and follower, a splendid St. Bernard puppy, and
+had not yet replaced him. As she fondled the dog, she heard a slight
+sound near her, and, looking up, met the inquiring gaze of a pair of
+wide-open brown eyes. They belonged to a girl of fourteen, a slight,
+thin slip of a girl in a shabby dress that she had outgrown, and thick
+dark hair tied loosely with a ribbon, and falling in a wavy mass over
+her shoulders, and a small sallow face, looking at the present moment
+very shy and uncomfortable.
+
+'If you please,' she began timidly, and twisting her hands awkwardly as
+she spoke, 'mamma is very tired and has gone to lie down. We only moved
+in yesterday, and the place is in such a muddle.'
+
+'Of course it is in a muddle,' replied Audrey in her pleasant, easy
+fashion. 'That is exactly why I called--to see if I could be of any
+assistance. I am Miss Ross, from the lower school--will you let me come
+in and speak to you? You are Miss Blake, are you not?'
+
+'Yes; I am Mollie,' returned the girl, reddening and looking still more
+uncomfortable. 'I am very sorry, Miss Ross--and it is very good of you
+to call so soon--but there is no place fit to ask you to sit down. Biddy
+is such a bad manager. She ought to have got things far more comfortable
+for us, but she is old--and----'
+
+'Miss Mollie, where am I to find the teapot?' called out a voice
+belonging to some invisible body--a voice with the unmistakable brogue.
+'There's the mistress just dying for a cup of tea, and how will I be
+giving it to her without the teapot? and it may be in any of those dozen
+hampers--bad luck to it!'
+
+'I am coming, Biddy,' sighed the girl wearily, and the flush of
+annoyance deepened in her cheek.
+
+Somehow, that tired young face, burdened with some secret care, appealed
+to Audrey's quick sympathies. She put out her hand and gave her a light
+push as she stood blocking up the entry.
+
+'My dear, I will help you look for the teapot,' she said in the kindest
+voice possible. 'You are just tired to death, and of course it is
+natural that your mother should want her tea. If we cannot find it, I
+will run round and borrow one from the Wrights. Everyone knows what
+moving is--one has to undergo all sorts of discomforts. Let me put down
+my sunshade and lace scarf, and then you will see how useful I can be';
+and Audrey walked into the house, leaving Mollie tongue-tied with
+astonishment, and marched into the dining-room, which certainly looked a
+chaos--with dusty chairs, tables, half-emptied hampers, books, pictures,
+all jumbled up together with no sort of arrangement, just as the men had
+deposited them from the vans. Here, however, she paused, slightly taken
+aback by the sight of another dark head, which raised itself over the
+sofa-cushions, while another pair of brown eyes regarded her with equal
+astonishment.
+
+'It is only Kester,' whispered Mollie. 'I think he was asleep. Kester,
+Miss Ross kindly wishes to help us a little--but--did you ever see such
+a place?' speaking in a tone of disgust and shrugging her shoulders.
+
+'Mollie can't be everywhere,' rejoined the boy, trying to drag himself
+off the sofa as he spoke, and then Audrey saw he was a cripple.
+
+He looked about fifteen, but his long, melancholy face had nothing
+boyish about it. The poor lad was evidently a chronic sufferer; there
+was a permanent look of ill-health stamped on his features, and the
+beautiful dark eyes had a plaintive look in them.
+
+'Mollie does her best,' he went on almost irritably; 'but she and Cyril
+have been busy upstairs getting up the beds and that sort of thing, so
+they could not turn their hand to all this lumber,' kicking over some
+books as he spoke.
+
+'Mollie is very young,' returned Audrey, feeling she must take them
+under her protection at once, and, as usual, acting on her impulse. 'Is
+your name Kester? What an uncommon name! but I like it somehow. I am so
+sorry to see you are an invalid, but you can get about a little on
+crutches?'
+
+'Sometimes, not always, when my hip is bad,' was the brief response.
+
+'Has it always been so?' in a pitying voice.
+
+'Well, ever since I was a little chap, and Cyril dropped me. I don't
+know how it happened; he was not very big, either. It is so long ago
+that I never remember feeling like other fellows'; and Kester sighed
+impatiently and kicked over some more books. 'There I go, upsetting
+everything; but there is no room to move. We had our dinner, such as it
+was, in the kitchen--not that I could eat it, eh, Mollie?'
+
+Mollie shook her head sadly.
+
+'You have not eaten a bit to-day. Cyril promised to bring in some buns
+for tea; but I daresay he will forget all about it.'
+
+A sudden thought struck Audrey: these two poor children did look so
+disconsolate. Mollie's tired face was quite dust-begrimed; she had been
+crying, too, probably with worry and over-fatigue, for the reddened
+eyelids betrayed her.
+
+'I have a bright idea,' she said in her pleasant, friendly way, 'why
+should you not have tea in the garden? You have a nice little lawn, and
+it will not be too sunny near the house. If Biddy will only be good
+enough to boil the kettle I will run and fetch a teapot. It is no use
+hunting in those hampers, you are far too tired, Mollie. We will just
+lift out this little table. I see it has flaps, so it will be large
+enough; and if you can find a few teacups and plates, I will be back in
+a quarter of an hour with the other things.'
+
+Audrey did not specify what other things she meant; she left that a
+pleasing mystery, to be unravelled by and by; she only waited to lift
+out the table, and then started off on her quest.
+
+The Wrights could not give her half she wanted; but Audrey in her own
+erratic fashion was a woman of resources: she made her way quickly to
+Woodcote, and entering it through the back premises, just as her sister
+was walking leisurely up to the front door, she went straight to the
+kitchen to make her raid.
+
+Cooper was evidently accustomed to her young mistress's eccentric
+demands. She fetched one article after another, as Audrey named them: a
+teapot, a clean cloth, a quarter of a pound of the best tea, a little
+tin of cream from the dairy, half a dozen new-laid eggs, a freshly-baked
+loaf hot from the oven, and some crisp, delicious-looking cakes, finally
+a pat of firm yellow butter; and with this last article Audrey
+pronounced herself satisfied.
+
+'You had better let Joe carry some of the things, Miss Audrey,'
+suggested Cooper, as she packed a large basket; 'he is round about
+somewhere.' And Audrey assented to this.
+
+Geraldine was just beginning her Blake story, and Mrs. Ross was
+listening to her with a troubled face, as Audrey, armed with the teapot,
+and followed by Joe with the basket, turned in again at the green gate
+of the Gray Cottage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE BLAKE FAMILY AT HOME
+
+     'Her manner was warm, and even ardent; her sensibility seemed
+     constitutionally deep; and some subtle fire of impassioned
+     intellect apparently burnt within her.'--DE QUINCEY.
+
+
+There was certainly a tinge of Bohemianism in Audrey's nature. She
+delighted in any short-cut that took her out of the beaten track. A
+sudden and unexpected pleasure was far more welcome to her than any
+festivity to which she was bidden beforehand.
+
+'I am very unlike Gage,' she said once to her usual confidant, Captain
+Burnett. 'No one would take us for sisters; even in our cradles we were
+dissimilar. Gage was a pattern baby, never cried for anything, and
+delighted everyone with her pretty ways; and I was always grabbing at
+father's spectacles with my podgy little fingers, and screaming for the
+carving-knife or any such incongruous thing. Do you know my first
+babyish name for father?'
+
+'I believe it was Daddy Glass-Eyes, was it not?' was the ready response,
+for somehow this young man had a strangely retentive memory, and seldom
+forgot anything that interested him.
+
+Audrey laughed.
+
+'I had no idea you would have remembered that. How I loved to snatch off
+those spectacles! "You can't see me now, Daddy Glass-Eyes," I can hear
+myself saying that; "daddy can't see with only two eyes."'
+
+'You were a queer little being even then,' he returned, somewhat dryly.
+'But I believe, as usual, we are wandering from our subject. You are a
+most erratic talker, Audrey. What made you burst out just now into this
+sisterly tirade?'
+
+'Ah, to be sure! I was contrasting myself with Gage; it always amuses
+me to do that. It only proceeded from a speech the Countess made this
+afternoon'; for in certain naughty moods Audrey would term her elder
+sister the Countess. 'She declared half the pleasure of a thing
+consisted in preparation and anticipation; but I disagree with her
+entirely. I like all my pleasures served up to me hot and
+spiced--without any flavour reaching me beforehand. That is why I am so
+charmed with the idea of surprise parties and impromptu picnics, and all
+that kind of thing.'
+
+Audrey felt as though she were assisting at some such surprise party as
+she turned in at the green gate, and relieved Joe of the basket. Mollie
+came running round the side of the house to meet her. She had washed her
+face, and brushed out her tangled hair and tied it afresh.
+
+'Oh, what have you there?' she asked in some little excitement. 'Miss
+Ross, have you really carried all these things? The kettle is boiling,
+and I have some clean cups and saucers. Kester has been helping me. I
+think mamma is awake, for I heard her open her window just now.'
+
+'What a nice, intelligent face she has!' thought Audrey, as she unpacked
+her basket and displayed the hidden dainties before the girl's delighted
+eyes. 'I am sure I shall like Mollie. She is not a bit pretty--I daresay
+Gage and Michael would call her plain; but she has an honest look in her
+brown eyes.' 'Mollie,' speaking aloud, 'if your mother has awakened from
+her nap, she will be quite ready for her tea. May I go into the kitchen
+a moment? I want Biddy to boil these eggs--they are new-laid; and
+perhaps you could find me a plate for the butter'; and as Mollie ran off
+Audrey turned coolly into the kitchen--a pleasant apartment, overlooking
+the street--where she found a little old woman, with a wrinkled face and
+dark, hawk-like eyes, standing by the hearth watching the boiling
+kettle.
+
+The kitchen was in the same state of chaos as the dining-room--the table
+covered with unwashed dishes, and crates half unpacked littering the
+floor. It was evident Biddy was no manager. As she stood there in her
+dirty cotton gown, with her thin gray hair twisted into a rough knot,
+and a black handkerchief tied loosely over her head, she was the image
+of Fairy Disorder; her bent little figure and the blackened poker in her
+hand carried out the resemblance, as she looked up with her bright,
+peering eyes at the tall young lady who confronted her.
+
+'Do you think I could find a saucepan, Biddy?'
+
+'I suppose there is one about somewhere,' was the encouraging answer.
+'Perhaps Miss Mollie will be knowing; she boiled some potatoes for
+dinner.'
+
+'Do you mean this?' regarding the article with some disfavour. 'Would it
+trouble you very much to wash it while I make the tea? I have some nice
+fresh eggs, which I think they will all enjoy.'
+
+But Biddy only returned a snapping answer that was somewhat
+unintelligible, and carried out the saucepan with rather a sour face.
+
+'Disagreeable old thing!' thought Audrey, as she made the tea, but she
+afterwards retracted this hasty judgment.
+
+Biddy was a bad manager, certainly, but she was not without her virtues.
+She was faithful, and would slave herself to death for those she loved;
+but she was old for work, and the 'ache,' as she called it, had got into
+her bones. She had slept on the floor for two nights, and her poor old
+back was tired, and her head muddled with the confusion and her
+mistress's fretful fussiness. Biddy could have worked well if any one
+had told her exactly what to do, but between one order and
+another--between Mr. Cyril's impatience and Miss Mollie's incapable,
+youthful zeal--she was just 'moithered,' as she would have said herself.
+
+She brought back the saucepan after a minute, and Audrey boiled the
+eggs. As she looked down at the hissing, bubbling water, an amused smile
+stole over her features.
+
+'If only Gage could see me now!' she thought; and then Mollie came in
+and rummaged in a big basket for teaspoons.
+
+Audrey carried out her teapot in triumph. Mollie had done her work well
+and tastefully: the snowy cloth was on the table; there were cups and
+saucers and plates; the butter was ornamented with green leaves, the
+cakes were in a china basket. Kester was dusting some chairs.
+
+'Doesn't it look nice!' exclaimed Mollie, quite forgetting her shyness.
+'How I wish Cyril would come in! He does so love things to be nice--he
+and Kester are so particular. Mamma!' glancing up at a window above
+them, 'won't you please to hurry down? May I sit there, Miss Ross? I
+always pour out the tea, because mamma does not like the trouble, and
+Kester always sits next to me.'
+
+'Is your mother an invalid, my dear?' asked Audrey, feeling that this
+must be the case.
+
+'Mamma? Oh no! She has a headache sometimes, but so do I--and Cyril
+often says the same. I think mamma is strong, really. She can take long
+walks, and she often sits up late reading or talking to Cyril; but it
+tries her to do things in the house, she has never been accustomed to
+it, and putting things to rights in Cyril's room has quite knocked her
+up.'
+
+'What are you talking about, you little chatterbox?' interrupted a gay,
+good-humoured voice; and Audrey, turning round, saw a lady in black
+coming quickly towards them: the next moment two hands were held out in
+very friendly fashion. 'I need not ask who our kind visitor is,' went on
+Mrs. Blake. 'I know it must be Miss Ross--no one else could have heard
+of our arrival. Have you ever experienced the delights of a move? I
+think I have never passed a more miserable four-and-twenty hours. I am
+utterly done up, as I daresay my little girl has told you; but the sight
+of that delicious tea-table is a restorative in itself. I had no idea
+Rutherford held such kind neighbours. Mollie, I hope you have thanked
+Miss Ross for her goodness. Dear me, what a figure the child looks!'
+
+'Yes, mamma,' replied Mollie, with a return of her shyness; and she
+slunk behind the tea-tray.
+
+Audrey had apparently no answer ready. The oddest idea had come into her
+mind: Supposing Michael were to fall in love with Mrs. Blake? He was a
+great admirer of beauty, though he was a little fastidious on the
+subject, and certainly, with the exception of Geraldine, Audrey thought
+she had never seen a handsomer woman.
+
+Mrs. Blake's beauty was certainly of no ordinary type: her features were
+small and delicate, and her face had the fine oval that one sees in the
+portraits of Mary Queen of Scots; her complexion was pale and somewhat
+creamy in tint, and set off the dark hazel eyes and dark smooth coils of
+hair to perfection.
+
+The long black dress and widow-like collar and cuffs suited the tall,
+graceful figure; and as Audrey noticed the quick changes of expression,
+the bright smile, and listened to the smooth, harmonious voice, she
+thought that never before had she seen so fascinating a woman.
+
+'Gage will rave about her,' was her mental critique. 'She will say at
+once that she has never seen a more lady-like person--"lady-like," that
+is Gage's favourite expression. And as to Michael--well, it is never
+Michael's way to rave; but he will certainly take a great deal of
+pleasure in looking at Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'Will you sit by me, Miss Ross?' asked her hostess in a winning voice;
+and Audrey woke up from her abstraction, colouring and smiling.
+
+'I have taken a great liberty with your house,' she said, feeling for
+the first time as though some apology were due; for the queenly
+beneficence of Mrs. Blake's manner seemed to imply some condescension on
+her part in accepting such favours. 'I called to see if you needed any
+assistance from a neighbour, and I found poor Mollie looking so tired
+and perplexed that I stayed to help her.'
+
+'Mollie does her best,' replied Mrs. Blake gently; 'but she is a sad
+manager, and so is Biddy. They nearly worry me to death between them. If
+they put a thing straight, it is sure to be crooked again the next
+moment.'
+
+'I am sure Mollie works hard enough,' grumbled Kester; but his mother
+did not appear to hear him.
+
+'I am a wretched manager myself,' she went on. 'If it were not for
+Cyril, I do not know what would become of us. Poor Kester is no use to
+anyone. Would you believe it, Miss Ross, that, when we arrived last
+night, not a bedstead was up? That was Biddy's fault; she forgot to
+remind the men. We all slept on the floor except Kester. Cyril would put
+up his bed for him, though I told him that just for once, and on a
+summer's night, it would not hurt him.'
+
+Mollie and Kester glanced at each other; and then Kester bit his lip,
+and looked down at his plate.
+
+'Oh, mamma,' began Mollie eagerly; but Mrs. Blake gave her a quick,
+reproving look.
+
+'Please don't interrupt, Mollie. I want Miss Ross to understand; she
+must be quite shocked to see such confusion. Cyril said this morning we
+should be all ill if we passed another night in that way; so he and
+Biddy have been putting up the beds, and getting the upstairs rooms in
+order, and Mollie was sent down to make the dining-room a little tidy.'
+
+'But, mamma----' pleaded Molly, turning very red.
+
+'My dear little girl,' observed her mother sweetly, 'Miss Ross can see
+for herself the room has not been touched.'
+
+'Because Kester was asleep, and Cyril told me I must not wake him,'
+persisted Molly, looking ready to cry again; 'and whenever I began,
+either you or Cyril called me;' and here, though Mollie dashed away a
+tear bravely, another followed, and would splash down on her frock, for
+the poor little soul was tired and dispirited, and Miss Ross would think
+she had been idle, instead of having worked like a slave since early
+morning.
+
+'Don't be a goose, Mollie!' retorted Mrs. Blake, with the ready
+good-humour that seemed natural to her; 'you are too old to cry at a
+word. Miss Ross, may I have one of those delicious cakes? I shall feel a
+different woman after my tea. Children, what can have become of your
+brother? I thought he was only going out for half an hour.'
+
+'He is to dine at Woodcote to-night, I believe, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'Yes; Dr. Ross kindly asked him this morning. I must not begin to talk
+about Cyril; that must be a tabooed subject. Of course, a mother has a
+right to be proud of her son--and such a son, too!--but it is not
+necessary for her to bore other people. If you were to ask me'--with a
+low laugh of amusement at her own expense--'if I thought any other
+mother's son could be as handsome and clever and affectionate as my
+Cyril, I should probably say no; but I will be prudent for once: I will
+not try to prejudice you in his favour. Cyril shall stand on his own
+merits to-night; he will not need his mother's recommendation.'
+
+Mrs. Blake made this speech with such a pretty air of assurance, such a
+conviction that there was something pardonable in her egotism, with such
+winning frankness, that Audrey forgave the thoughtless insinuation
+against poor overtasked Mollie. It was evident that Mrs. Blake idolised
+her eldest son; her eyes softened as she mentioned his name.
+
+'Ah, there is his step!' she added hastily. 'No one walks in the same
+way as Cyril does; isn't it a light, springy tread? But,' checking
+herself with another laugh, 'I must really hold my tongue, or you will
+think me a very silly woman.'
+
+'No; I like you all the better for it,' replied Audrey bluntly. She had
+no time to say more, for a gay whistle heralded the new-comer; and the
+next moment a young man vaulted lightly over the low window-sill.
+
+He seemed a little taken aback at the sight of a stranger, shook hands
+rather gravely with Audrey, and then sat down silently beside his
+mother.
+
+Audrey's first thought was that Mrs. Blake had not said a word too much.
+Cyril Blake was certainly a very striking-looking young man. 'He is like
+his mother,' she said to herself; 'he is as handsome in his way as she
+is in hers. There is something foreign in his complexion, and in those
+very dark eyes; it looks as though there were Spanish or Italian blood
+in their veins. She hardly looks old enough to be his mother. Father
+said he was two-and-twenty. What an interesting family they seem! I am
+sure I shall see a great deal of them.'
+
+Cyril was a little silent at first. He was afflicted with the
+Englishman's _mauvaise honte_ with strangers, and was a little young for
+his age, in spite of his cleverness. But Mrs. Blake was not disposed to
+leave him in quiet. She knew that he could talk fluently enough when his
+tongue was once loosened; so she proceeded to tell him of Audrey's
+neighbourly kindness, treating it with an airy grace; and, of course,
+Cyril responded with a brief compliment or two. She then drew him out by
+skilful questions on Rutherford and its inhabitants, to which Audrey
+duly replied.
+
+'And you like the place, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Oh, of course one likes the place where one lives,' she returned
+brightly. 'I was only a little girl when father came to Woodcote, so all
+my happiest associations are with Rutherford. I grumble sometimes
+because the town is so small and there are not enough human beings.'
+
+'There are over three hundred boys, are there not?' asked Cyril, looking
+up quickly.
+
+'Oh, boys! I was not thinking of them. Yes, there are more than three
+hundred. I delight in boys, but one wants men and women as well. We have
+too few types. There are the masters and the masters' wives, and the
+doctors and the vicar, and a curate or two, but that is all. A public
+school is nice, but its society is limited.'
+
+'Limited, but choice.'
+
+'Decidedly choice. Now, in my opinion, people ought not to be too
+exclusive. I am sociable by nature. "The world forgetting, by the world
+forgot" is not to my mind. I like variety even in character.'
+
+'I think we are kindred spirits, my dear Miss Ross. How often have you
+heard me say the same thing, Cyril! That is why I took such a dislike to
+Headingly--the people there were so terribly exclusive and purse-proud.'
+
+'Not purse-proud, mother. You are wrong there.'
+
+'Well, they were very stiff and inhospitable; there was no getting on
+with them at all. I think the Bryces were the worst. Mrs. Bryce is the
+proudest woman I know.'
+
+'Mother,' observed Cyril warningly, 'it is never safe to mention names.
+I think--that is, I am sure I have heard that Mrs. Bryce is a connection
+of Miss Ross.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not!' in an alarmed voice. 'Do--do forgive me my very plain
+speaking.'
+
+'There is no harm done,' returned Audrey lightly. 'Mrs. Bryce is only a
+connection of my sister's by marriage. She is Mr. Harcourt's sister. I
+am afraid I sympathise with you there. I have no special liking for Mrs.
+Bryce myself; she is clever, an excellent manager, but she is a little
+too proper--too fond of laying down the law for my taste.'
+
+'Oh, I am so glad!' clapping her hands. 'Cyril is always keeping me in
+order; he is so afraid what I may say next.'
+
+'You certainly are a most incautious person, mother.'
+
+'See how my children keep me in order,' with an air of much humility.
+'Mrs. Harcourt is your sister, and lives at Rutherford. I do hope she is
+like you, Miss Ross.'
+
+'No, indeed,' shaking her head and laughing. 'We are very different
+persons. Geraldine is far better than I am. She is exceedingly clever,
+most accomplished, and so handsome that everyone falls in love with her
+at first sight. She is quite a little queen here, and no one disputes
+her sway.'
+
+Mrs. Blake gave an eloquent shrug, but she did not venture on a more
+direct answer; and Audrey sat and smiled to herself as she thought that
+Geraldine and Edith Bryce were certainly pattern women.
+
+How pleasant it all was! Audrey had never enjoyed herself more; she was
+making herself quite at home with these Blakes. But surely there was no
+need to hurry home; Gage was with her mother. She might indulge herself
+a little longer. She longed to talk more to Kester and Mollie, but she
+found it impossible to draw them into the conversation. They sat quite
+silent, only every now and then Audrey's quick eyes saw an intelligent
+look flash between them--a sort of telegraphic communication.
+
+'I hope those two poor children are not left out in the cold,' she
+thought uneasily. 'Their brother does not seem to notice them; he and
+his mother are wrapped up in each other. It is hardly fair.'
+
+Again Audrey was forming a hasty judgment.
+
+'The country is not very pretty, is it?' asked Cyril at this moment, and
+she woke up from her reverie.
+
+'It is a little flat, but it has its good points; it is a splendid
+hunting country, as you know. Oh yes, I think it pretty. There are nice
+walks. I am very partial to the grass lanes we have about here. In fine
+weather they are delicious.'
+
+'And you are a good walker?'
+
+'Oh yes. I am strong, and there is nothing I enjoy so much. One is such
+splendid company for one's self. Leo and I used to have such
+expeditions! Leo was a St. Bernard puppy, only he died three weeks ago
+of distemper. I cannot bear to speak of him yet. He was my playfellow,
+and so handsome and intelligent! My cousin, Captain Burnett, has
+promised to find me another dog. He has a Dachs-hund himself--such a
+loving, faithful little creature. He is obliged to take Booty wherever
+he goes, or the poor thing would fret himself to skin and bone. Is that
+retriever your special property?' and Audrey looked at Cyril as she
+spoke.
+
+'No; he belongs to Kester,' he returned carelessly. Then, with a quick
+change of tone: 'Are you tired, old fellow? Would you like me to help
+you indoors?' and, as Kester languidly assented, he picked up his
+crutches, and taking possession of one, substituted his arm, while
+Mollie ran before them with a couple of cushions.
+
+Mrs. Blake looked after them, and a cloud came over her face.
+
+'Is it not sad?' she said, in a melancholy tone. 'That poor boy--he will
+be a drag on Cyril all his life. He will never be able to gain his own
+living. He is fifteen now.'
+
+'It was the result of an accident, was it not?'
+
+But Audrey regretted her abrupt question, as a troubled expression came
+into the mother's eyes.
+
+'Who told you that?' she asked impatiently. 'Of course it was Mollie.
+She is a sad chatterbox. And I suppose she mentioned, too, that it was
+Cyril's fault?'
+
+'Indeed it was not Mollie,' returned Audrey eagerly. 'Kester spoke of it
+himself. He did not enter into particulars. He just said his brother had
+let him fall when he was a child.'
+
+'Yes, it was a sad business,' with a sigh. 'I wonder if anyone has ever
+had so many troubles as I have. Life has been one long struggle to me,
+Miss Ross. But for Cyril I should have succumbed again and again. No
+widowed mother has ever been more blessed in a son;' then, dropping her
+voice: 'Please do not mention the subject before Cyril; he is dreadfully
+sore about it. It was a pure accident: they were all lads together, and
+he and his schoolfellows were racing each other. I think they were
+steeplechasing, and he had Kester on his back. There was a fence and a
+stony ditch, and the foolish child tried to clear it; they might both
+have been killed, it was such a nasty place, but Kester was the only
+one hurt. He was always a delicate little fellow, and hip-disease came
+on. He does not suffer so much now, but he will always be a cripple, and
+he has bad times now and then. Cyril is so good to him; he has never
+forgiven himself for the accident.'
+
+'I can understand that,' returned Audrey in a moved voice; and then
+Cyril came back and she rose to go. 'I shall see you again,' she said
+smiling, as he accompanied her to the gate. 'I hear my father has asked
+you up to Woodcote this evening to meet the Harcourts.'
+
+'Yes,' he returned briefly, looking as though the prospect were a
+formidable one. 'I could not very well refuse Dr. Ross under the
+circumstances.'
+
+'Did you wish to refuse?' rather mischievously.
+
+'No, of course not,' but smiling too; 'I feel as though it were a
+neglect of duty. Look at the muddle in there! and those poor children. I
+have been working like a horse to-day, but there was too much to do
+upstairs; I left the living-rooms for this evening.'
+
+'You can work all the harder to-morrow.'
+
+He shook his head.
+
+'To-morrow I have to begin lessons. I suppose the muddle must just go
+on, and we must live as we can. Biddy is old and worn out, and Mollie is
+too young to direct her.'
+
+'I will come round and help her,' was Audrey's impulsive answer. 'This
+is just the sort of thing I love. I do so enjoy putting a place to
+rights.'
+
+'But, Miss Ross, we have no right to trespass on your kindness,' replied
+Cyril, flushing slightly as he spoke.
+
+But Audrey only smiled and showed her dimple.
+
+'Tell Mollie I shall come,' was her only answer. '_Au revoir_, Mr.
+Blake.'
+
+And Audrey walked on rapidly to Woodcote, feeling that she had spent a
+very amusing afternoon, and quite unaware of the commotion she would
+raise in her mother's and sister's breasts by those few innocently
+spoken words, 'I have been having tea at the Blakes'.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+MICHAEL
+
+     'And when God found in the hollow of His hand
+     This ball of Earth among His other balls,
+     And set it in His shining firmament,
+     Between the greater and the lesser lights,
+     He chose it for the Star of Suffering.'
+
+                                        UGO BASSI.
+
+
+It is better to draw a veil over the scene that followed Audrey's abrupt
+announcement. As Captain Burnett said afterwards, 'Geraldine's attitude
+was superb; she was grand, absolutely grand.'
+
+Mrs. Ross was, as usual, a little plaintive.
+
+'If you had only mentioned where you were going, Audrey,' she said
+quietly; 'but you are so impulsive, my dear. Geraldine would have
+accompanied you with pleasure a little later, and you could have left my
+card, and a civil message for Mrs. Blake; that would have been far
+nicer, would it not, my love?' with an appealing look at her young
+adviser.
+
+'You can send the message by Mr. Blake this evening,' replied Audrey.
+
+She never argued with her mother if she could possibly help it. In the
+first place, it was not filial, and in the second, it was perfectly
+useless, as there was always a mental reservation in Mrs. Ross's mind,
+and she could seldom be induced to decide any question without reference
+to Geraldine.
+
+'I think father might have consulted Percival before he asked another
+guest,' observed Mrs. Harcourt in rather a dubious tone, for she was
+exceedingly jealous of her husband's dignity. 'Percival was told that we
+were to be quite alone. I was not going home to change my dress. But if
+this young man be invited----'
+
+'My darling,' interrupted her mother, 'you must not think of walking
+back all that way--that gown is lovely, is it not, Audrey?--and one more
+person does not signify. No doubt your father was anxious that Percival
+should see Mr. Blake and give him his opinion; he thinks so much of
+Percival's judgment, does he not, Audrey?'
+
+Now here was the opportunity for a douceur, for a nicely-adjusted
+compliment, to smooth her sister's ruffled brow; but Audrey was far too
+blunt and truthful for such finesse.
+
+'Father told me that he wanted Michael to see Mr. Blake--I don't believe
+he was thinking of Percival--because of course the lower school has
+nothing to do with Hillside. There is not the least need of changing
+your gown, Gage, for of course we are only a family party. Will you come
+up with me to my room now, or will you go with mother presently?'
+
+'I will come with you,' returned Mrs. Harcourt.
+
+Audrey was inclined to be contumacious, but she would not yield the
+matter so meekly. Audrey was always more contradictory when Michael was
+in the background; they seemed to play into each other's hand somehow,
+and more than once Geraldine was positive she had heard a softly-uttered
+'Bravo!' at some of Audrey's ridiculous speeches.
+
+'Come along, then,' returned Audrey good-humouredly; and as they left
+the room together, Captain Burnett laid down his book.
+
+'I am afraid she is going to catch it, Cousin Emmeline; it will be a
+case of survival of the fittest--Geraldine is strong, but Audrey can
+hold her own. I back Audrey.'
+
+'My dear,' remonstrated Mrs. Ross, as she put away her knitting, 'you
+talk as though my girls were likely to quarrel. Geraldine is far too
+sweet-tempered to quarrel with anyone; she will only give Audrey a
+little advice--dear Audrey is dreadfully careless, she takes after her
+father in that; John is always doing imprudent things. Geraldine has
+made me most uncomfortable this afternoon; I am quite sure that Mrs.
+Blake will be an undesirable friend for Audrey.'
+
+'Do you always see through other people's spectacles?' he asked quietly.
+'I have a habit of judging things for myself--I never take anything
+second-hand; it is such an unpleasant idea, airing other people's
+opinions. Fancy a sensible human being turning himself into a sort of
+peg or receptacle for other folks' theories! No, thank you, my dear
+cousin; my opinions are all stamped with "Michael Burnett, his mark."'
+
+'Men are different,' she replied tranquilly; and then she left him to go
+in search of her husband.
+
+'What a world we live in, Booty!' observed Captain Burnett, as he walked
+to the window and his four-footed favourite followed him. 'Oh, you want
+a run, do you?' as the little animal looked at him wistfully. 'You think
+your master uncommonly lazy this afternoon--you don't happen to have a
+pain in your leg, do you, old fellow--a nasty gnawing, grumbling sort of
+pain?--there is nothing like neuralgia for making a man lazy. Well, I'll
+make an effort to oblige you, my friend--so off you go'; and Captain
+Burnett threw a stone, and there was a delighted bark and an excited
+patter of the short legs, and Booty vanished round a corner, while his
+master followed him more slowly.
+
+The garden of Woodcote was the best in Rutherford; even the Hill houses
+could not compete with it: an extensive lawn lay before the house, with
+a shrubbery on one side, and the trees and shrubs were exceedingly rare;
+a little below the house the ground sloped rather steeply, and a
+succession of terraces and flower-beds led down to a miniature lake with
+a tiny island; here there were some swans and a punt, and the tall trees
+that bordered the water were the favourite haunt of blackbirds and
+thrushes.
+
+Captain Burnett sat down on a bench facing the water, and Booty stood
+and barked at the swans. How sweet and peaceful everything looked this
+evening! The water was golden in the evening sunshine; a blue tit was
+flashing from one tree to another; some thrushes were singing a
+melodious duet; the swans arched their snowy necks and looked proudly at
+him; some children's voices were audible in the distance. There was a
+thoughtful expression in Captain Burnett's eyes, a concentrated
+melancholy that was often there when he found himself utterly alone.
+
+Captain Burnett had one confidant--his cousin John. Not that he often
+called him by that name, their ages were too dissimilar to permit such
+easy familiarity; but he had once owned to Dr. Ross, to the man who
+loved him as a father, that his life had been a failure.
+
+'Only a failure in the sense that you are no longer fit for active
+duty,' had been the reply. 'You must not forget the Victoria Cross,
+Michael.'
+
+'Oh, that was nothing; any other man would have done the same in my
+place,' Michael had retorted with some heat, for he hated to be reminded
+of his good deeds.
+
+Perhaps he was right: hundreds of brave young Englishmen would have
+acted in the same way had they been placed in the same circumstances.
+The English army is full of heroes, thank God! Nevertheless, Michael
+Burnett had earned his Victoria Cross dearly.
+
+It was in one of the Zulu skirmishes. A detachment of the enemy had
+surprised them at night; but the little handful of men had repulsed them
+bravely. Captain Burnett knew help was at hand; they had only to hold
+out until a larger contingent should join them. He hoped things were
+going well. They had just driven the Zulus backwards, when, in the dim
+light of the flickering watch-fires, he saw dusky figures moving in the
+direction of a hut where a few sick and wounded men had been placed.
+There was not a second to lose; in another moment the poor fellows would
+have been butchered. Calling out to some of his men to follow him, and
+not perceiving that he was alone, he tore through the scrub, and entered
+the hut by a hole that served as a window. Michael once owned that he
+fought like a demon that night; but the thought of the few helpless
+wretches writhing in terror on their pallet beds behind him seemed to
+give him the force of ten men. 'They shall pass only over my body! God
+save my poor fellows!' was his inward cry, as he blocked up the narrow
+doorway and struck at his dusky foes like a madman.
+
+More than one poor lad lived to look back on that day, and to bless
+their gallant deliverer. 'No one else could have done it, sir,' observed
+one of them; 'but the Captain never knew how to give in. I was watching
+them, and I thought the devils would have finished him. He staggered
+back once, and Bob Jaggers gave a groan, for we thought it was all up
+with us; and though I would have made shift to fight before I would be
+killed like a rat in a hole, one could not do much with a broken arm.
+When our men rushed in, he was pretty nearly finished; one of the
+savages had him by the knees. Of course they gave him the Cross. For the
+matter of that, he ought to have had it before.
+
+'Did you ever hear how he saved little Tom Blatchley's life? Well, I
+will tell you'; and hereupon followed one of those touching incidents
+which are so frequent, and which gild with glory even the bloody annals
+of war.
+
+Yes, they gave him the Victoria Cross; but as he lay on his bed of
+suffering, disabled by cruel wounds, Michael knew that he had won it at
+the expense of all that men count dear. 'Greater love hath no man than
+this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' There were times
+when, in his anguish, Michael could have prayed that his life--his
+useless, broken life--might have been taken too. How gladly, how
+thankfully would he have yielded it! how willingly would he have turned
+his face to the wall, and ended the conflict, sooner than endure the far
+bitterer ordeal that lay before him! for he was young, and he knew his
+career was ended, and that, brave soldier as he was, he could no longer
+follow the profession that he loved. It was doubtful for a long time how
+far he would recover from the effects of that terrible night; his wounds
+were long in healing. The principal injuries were in the head and thigh.
+One or two of his physicians feared that he would never walk again; the
+limb seemed to contract, and neuralgic pains made his life a misery. To
+add to his troubles, his nerves were seriously affected, and though he
+was no coward, depression held him at times in its fell grip, and mocked
+him with delusive pictures of other men's happiness. Like Bunyan's poor
+tempted Christian, he, too, at times espied a foul fiend coming over the
+field to meet him, and had to wage a deadly combat with many a doubt and
+hard, despairing thought. 'You are a wreck, Michael Burnett!' the grim
+tempter seemed to say to him. 'Better be quit of it all! Before you are
+thirty your work is over; what will you do with the remainder of your
+life? You are poor--perhaps crippled; no woman will look at you. You
+have your Cross--a little bit of rusty iron--but does such empty glory
+avail? You have aches and pains in plenty; your future looks promising,
+my fine fellow! A hero! In truth those ten minutes have cost you dearly!
+no wonder you repent of your rash gallantry!'
+
+'I repent of nothing,' Michael would rejoin, in that dumb inward
+argument so often renewed. 'If it were to come over again, I would do
+just the same. "Greater love hath no man than this";' for in his
+semi-delirious hours those Divine words seemed to set themselves to
+solemn music, and to echo in his brain with ceaseless repetition. 'A
+life given, a life laid down, a life spent in suffering--is it not all
+the same--a soldier's duty? Shall I shirk my fate? Would it not be
+better to bear it like a man?' and Michael would set his teeth hard, and
+with an inward prayer for patience--for in the struggle the man was
+learning to pray--girded himself up again to the daily fight.
+
+Once, when there had been a fresh outbreak of mischief, and they had
+brought him down to Woodcote, that he might be more carefully nursed
+than in the town lodgings which was all Michael Burnett called home,
+Audrey, who, after her usual pitiful fashion, wore herself out in her
+efforts to soothe and comfort the invalid, once read to him some
+beautiful lines out of a poem entitled 'The Disciples.'
+
+Michael, who was in one of his dark moods, made no comment on the
+passage which she had read in a trembling voice of deep feeling; but
+when she left the room on some errand, he stretched out his hand, and
+read it over again:
+
+     'But if, impatient, thou let slip thy cross,
+     Thou wilt not find it in this world again,
+     Nor in another; here, and here alone,
+     Is given thee to suffer for God's sake.'
+
+When Audrey returned the book was in its place, and Michael was lying
+with his eyes closed, and the frown of pain still knitting his temples.
+He was not asleep, but she dare not disturb him by offering to go on
+with the poem. She sat down at a little distance and looked out of the
+window, rather sorrowfully. How strong she was! how full of health and
+enjoyment! and this poor Michael, who had acted so nobly----Audrey's
+eyes were full of tears. And all the time Michael was saying to himself,
+'After all, I am a coward. What if I must suffer? Life will not last for
+ever.'
+
+By and by Michael owned that even his hard lot had compensations. He
+became used to his semi-invalid existence. Active work of any sort was
+impossible--that is, continuous work. He had tried it when his friends
+had found an easy post for him, and had been obliged to give it up. He
+still suffered severely from neuralgic headaches that left him worn and
+exhausted. His maimed leg often troubled him; he could not walk far, and
+riding was impossible.
+
+'You must make up your mind to be an idle man--at least, for the
+present, Captain Burnett,' one of his doctors had said to him, and
+Michael had languidly acquiesced. To be a soldier had been his one
+ambition, and he cared for little else. He had enough to keep him in
+moderate comfort as a bachelor, and he had faint expectations from an
+uncle who lived in Calcutta; but when questioned on this point, Michael
+owned he was not sanguine.
+
+'My Uncle Selkirk is by no means an old man,' he would say. 'Any
+insurance office would consider his the better life of the two. Besides,
+he might marry--he is not sixty yet; even old men make fools of
+themselves by taking young wives. It is ill waiting for dead men's shoes
+at the best of times. In this case it would be rank stupidity.'
+
+'Then you will never be able to marry, Michael;' for it was to Mrs. Ross
+that this last speech was addressed.
+
+'My dear cousin, do you think any girl would look at a sickly,
+ill-tempered fellow like me?' was the somewhat bitter reply; and Mrs.
+Ross's kind heart was troubled at the tone.
+
+'You should not call yourself names, my dear. You are not ill-tempered.
+No one minds a little crossness now and then. Even John can say a sharp
+word when he is put out. I think you are wrong, Michael. You are rather
+morbid on this point. They say pity is akin to love.'
+
+'But I object to be pitied,' he returned somewhat haughtily; 'and what
+is more, I will commend myself to no woman's toleration. I will not be
+dominated by any weaker vessel. If I should ever have the happiness of
+having a wife--but there will be no Mrs. Michael Burnett, Cousin
+Emmeline--I should love her as well as other men love their wives, but I
+should distinctly insist on her keeping her proper place. Just
+imagine'--working himself up to nervous irritation--'being at the mercy
+of some healthy, high-spirited young creature, who will insult me every
+day with her overplus of pure animal enjoyment. The effect on me would
+be crushing--absolutely crushing.'
+
+'Audrey is very high-spirited, Michael, but I am sure she sympathises
+with you as nicely as possible.'
+
+'We were not speaking of Audrey, were we?' he replied, with a slight
+change of expression. 'I think it is the Ross idiosyncrasy to wander
+hopelessly from any given subject; I imagined that we were suggesting an
+impossible wife for your humble servant. Far be it from me to deny
+myself comfort in the shape of feminine cousins or friends.'
+
+'Yes, of course; and Geraldine and Audrey are just like your sisters,
+Michael.'
+
+'Are they?' a little dryly. 'Well, as I never had a sister, I cannot be
+a good judge; but from what other fellows tell me, I imagine Audrey
+bullies me enough to be one. Anyhow, I take the brotherly prerogative of
+bullying her in return.'
+
+And with this remarkable statement the conversation dropped.
+
+Captain Burnett spent half his time with his cousins, oscillating
+between Woodcote and his lodgings in town. Dr. Ross wished him to live
+with them entirely; he had a great respect and affection for his young
+kinsman, and, as he often told his wife, Michael helped him in a hundred
+ways.
+
+'He has the clearest head and the best common-sense I ever knew in any
+man. I would trust Mike's judgment before my own. Poor fellow! he has
+gone through so much himself, that I think he sees deeper into things
+than most people. It is wonderful what knowledge of character he has.
+The boys always say there is no cheating the Captain.'
+
+Michael owned himself grateful for his cousin's kindness, but he
+declined to call Woodcote his home.
+
+'I must have my own diggings,' was his answer--'a burrow where I can run
+to earth when my pet fiend tries to have a fling at me. Seriously, there
+are times when I am best alone--and, then, in town one sees one's
+friends. For a sick man, or whatever you like to call me, my taste is
+decidedly gregarious. "I would not shut me from my kind." Oh dear no!
+There is no study so interesting as human nature, and I am avowedly a
+student of anthropology; London is the place for a man with a hobby like
+mine.'
+
+Nevertheless, the chief part of Captain Burnett's time had been spent
+latterly at Woodcote.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE NEW MASTER
+
+     'We agree pretty well in our tastes and habits--yet so as "with a
+     difference." We are generally in harmony, with occasional
+     bickerings, as it should be among near relatives.'--ESSAYS OF
+     'ELIA.'
+
+
+Booty grew tired of barking at the swans long before his master had
+roused from his abstraction; it was doubtful how much longer Captain
+Burnett would have sat with his eyes fixed dreamily on the water, if a
+tall figure in white had not suddenly appeared under the arching trees,
+and Audrey stood before him.
+
+'I knew where I should find you,' she said, as he rose rather slowly
+from his seat. 'I have christened this bench Michael's Seat. How sweet
+the lake looks this evening! I wish I could stay to enjoy it, but I must
+go back to the drawing-room. Percival has come, and, do you know, the
+dressing-gong sounded ten minutes ago, and you have taken no notice of
+it.'
+
+'I will go at once,' was the answer, but to his surprise she stopped
+him.
+
+'Wait one moment, Michael; I have to ask you a favour. I want you to be
+kind, and to take a great deal of notice of Mr. Blake. He is very young
+and shy, and though his mother says he is so clever--and, indeed, father
+says so, too--one would not find it out, because he is so quiet, and you
+know how formidable Percival must be to a shy person.'
+
+'And you want me to take your new _protégé_ under my wing?' he returned,
+dissembling his surprise.
+
+She had put her hands on his arm, and was speaking with unusual
+earnestness, and he knew, by a certain look in her eyes, that something
+had vexed her.
+
+'He is not my _protégé_,' she answered quickly. 'You talk as though he
+were a boy, a mere child, instead of being what he is--an exceedingly
+clever and gentlemanly young man. Michael, you generally understand
+me--you are always my ally when Percival is on his high horse--and I
+want you to stand Mr. Blake's friend to-night.'
+
+'And I am not even to form my own opinion? Supposing the moment I shake
+hands with your pro--I mean your visitor--I become conscious of an
+inward antagonism? You see, Audrey, I am subject to likes and dislikes,
+in common with other people.'
+
+'Oh, you must try to like him,' she returned impatiently. 'I am very
+much interested in the whole family. We always like the same people,
+Michael--do we not?' in a coaxing voice. 'I know the Marquis will wear
+his most judicial aspect to-night; he will perfectly annihilate poor Mr.
+Blake;' for this was another sobriquet which Audrey applied to her
+brother-in-law.
+
+They were walking towards the house, but at this point Captain Burnett
+thought fit to stand still and shake his head, with a grieved expression
+of face.
+
+'My dear Audrey, I should like to see you on more sisterly terms with
+Gage's husband.'
+
+'Don't be silly,' was the only response; 'one cannot choose one's
+brother-in-law. The Marquis makes Gage a splendid husband--no one else
+could have mastered her--but I never could get on with a man who always
+thinks he is right about everything. Percival is too immaculate in his
+own and his wife's eyes to be in harmony with a sinner like myself; and
+I don't mind confessing to you, Michael, that he never opens his mouth
+without my longing to contradict him.'
+
+Audrey said this with such perfect _naïveté_ and candour that Captain
+Burnett could only smile, though sheer honesty made him say a moment
+afterwards:
+
+'I think, indeed I have always thought, that you undervalue Harcourt. He
+is a fine fellow in his way. I like a man to be strong, and Harcourt is
+strong--he has no pettiness in his nature. He is rather a severe critic,
+perhaps--and demands a little too much from other people--but you will
+find that he always practises what he preaches.'
+
+'I wish he understood me better,' was the rueful response. 'Unhappily,
+he and Gage think their mission is to reform me. Now, Michael, do be
+quick, or the dinner-bell will ring;' and Audrey waved her hand gaily,
+and turned into the house, while Michael and his faithful Booty
+followed her more slowly.
+
+When Audrey entered the drawing-room she found her brother-in-law
+standing in his favourite attitude before the fireplace--he was
+evidently holding forth on some interesting topic, for Dr. Ross was
+listening to him with an amused expression of face, and Geraldine was
+watching him with admiring wifely eyes. He broke off, however, to greet
+Audrey, and there was brotherly warmth in his manner as he shook hands
+with her and asked after her health--a mere civility on his part, as
+Audrey was never ill.
+
+Mr. Harcourt was a good-looking man of about forty--perhaps he was a
+year or two more, but he was young-looking for his age, and the absence
+of beard and moustache gave him a still more youthful aspect; the slight
+tinge of gray in his hair seemed to harmonise with the well-cut
+features. The mouth was especially handsome, though a sarcastic
+expression at times distinguished it. His figure was good, and without
+being tall, he carried himself with so much dignity as to give the
+impression of height. He was a man who would always be noticed among
+other men on account of his strong individuality and sheer force of
+character.
+
+Audrey was right when she owned that he made a splendid husband for
+Geraldine. Mr. Harcourt was exceedingly proud of his beautiful wife; but
+from the first hour of her married life he had made her understand that
+though she managed other people, including her own mother, her husband
+was to be the one exception--that, in other words, he fully intended to
+be Geraldine's master.
+
+Geraldine had to learn this lesson even on her wedding-day. There was
+some little confusion at the last--a small hitch in the domestic
+arrangements--and someone, Dr. Ross probably, proposed that the happy
+couple should wait for a later train; they could telegraph, and dinner
+could be put back for an hour. Geraldine endorsed her father's opinion;
+perhaps, at the last minute, the young bride would fain have lingered
+lovingly in the home that had sheltered her so happily.
+
+'It is a good idea. We should have to drive so dreadfully fast,' she
+said with some eagerness. 'Yes, we will stay, Percival.'
+
+'My darling, there is someone else to consult,' he returned, taking her
+hand; 'and someone else votes differently. Dr. Ross, will you ask them
+to send round the carriage. Geraldine has had excitement enough; it
+will be far better for us to go.' Geraldine did not like her husband any
+the worse for showing her that he meant to manage for both for the
+future. She was clever enough to take the hint, and to refer to him on
+all occasions. Before many weeks were over, young Mrs. Harcourt had so
+fully identified herself with her husband's interests, was so strangely
+impregnated with his opinions, that she insensibly reproduced them--'and
+Percival thinks so and so' now replaced the old decided 'that is my
+opinion,' which had hitherto leavened her conversation.
+
+'Who would have thought that Geraldine, who snubbed all her lovers so
+unmercifully, and who never would listen to one until Percival "came,
+saw, and conquered"--who would have imagined that this very exacting
+young woman would have turned out a submissive and pattern wife?' was
+Audrey's remark when she returned from her first visit to Hillside.
+
+But in her heart she respected her brother-in-law for the change he had
+effected.
+
+'Well, Audrey,' observed Mr. Harcourt, with a mischievous twinkle in his
+eyes, 'so I hear you have been enacting the part of Good Samaritan to
+the widow Blake and her children. What do you think of the bewitching
+widow and her Mary Queen of Scots beauty? Did she make an impression,
+eh?'
+
+'She is very handsome,' returned Audrey curtly; for she was not pleased
+with her brother-in-law's quizzical tone.
+
+How long had she stopped out with Michael? Barely ten minutes; and yet
+Percival was in possession of the whole story.
+
+'I shall be writing to Edith to-night, and I must tell her all about
+it,' he went on, for if there was one thing in which he delighted, it
+was teasing Audrey, and getting a rise out of her. In reality he was
+very fond of her; he admired her simplicity and the grand earnestness of
+her character; but he took the brotherly liberty of disagreeing with her
+upon some things. He told his wife privately that his one desire was to
+see Audrey married to the right man.
+
+'She is a fine creature, but she wants training and keeping in order;
+and I know the man who would just do for her,' he said once.
+
+But though Geraldine implored him to say whom he meant, and mentioned a
+dozen names in her womanly curiosity, Mr. Harcourt could not be induced
+to say more. He was no matchmaker, he thanked Heaven; he would be
+ashamed to meddle with such sacred mysteries. If there were one thing on
+which no human opinion ought to rashly intrude, it was when two people
+elected to enter the holy state of matrimony. It was enough that he knew
+the man, though he never intended to take a step to bring them together.
+
+'I think we had better drop the subject, as Mr. Blake will be here
+directly,' retorted Audrey, in her most repressive tones. 'Father, do
+you know you have forgotten to wind up the drawing-room clock? I think
+it must be nearly seven.'
+
+'It is past seven,' answered her brother-in-law, producing his watch.
+'Mr. Blake is keeping the dinner waiting. No one but a very young man
+would venture to commit such a solecism. Under the circumstances, it is
+really a breach of good manners. Don't you agree with me, Dr. Ross?'
+
+But Dr. Ross hesitated; he rarely agreed with such sweeping assertions.
+Geraldine murmured 'Very true,' which her mother echoed.
+
+'That is too bad!' exclaimed Audrey, who never could hold her tongue.
+'If you had only seen the state of muddle they are in at the Gray
+Cottage! I daresay Mr. Blake has been unable to find anything; his
+mother does not seem a good manager. Hush! I hear a bell!'--interrupting
+herself. 'Now you will not be kept any longer from your dinner,
+Percival.'
+
+'I was not thinking of myself,' he returned, with rather an annoyed air;
+for he was a quick-tempered man, and he was really very hungry. Thanks
+to his wife's splendid management, the meals were always punctual at
+Hillside. A deviation of five minutes would have boded woe to the best
+cook. Mr. Harcourt was no domestic tyrant; the boys, the servants,
+always looked upon him as a kind friend; but he was an exact
+disciplinarian, and the wheels of the domestic machinery at Hillside
+went smoothly. If Geraldine complained that one of the servants did not
+do her duty, his answer was always prompt: 'Send her away and get
+another. A servant without a conscience will never do for me.' But, as a
+matter of fact, no master was better served.
+
+To Audrey's relief, Michael appeared with Mr. Blake. He came in looking
+a little pale from the exertion of dressing so hurriedly, and Audrey's
+conscience pricked her for want of consideration as she saw that he
+limped more than usual, always a sign with him of over-fatigue. Mr.
+Blake looked handsomer than ever in evening dress, and Audrey noticed
+that Geraldine looked at him more than once, as though his appearance
+struck her. He certainly seemed very shy, and made his excuses to his
+hostess in a low voice.
+
+'I ought not to have accepted Dr. Ross's kind invitation,' he said,
+starting a little as the dinner-bell immediately followed his entrance;
+'everything is in such confusion at home.'
+
+'I suppose it was like hunting for a needle in a truss of hay,' observed
+Michael, in a genial voice. 'I can imagine the difficulties of making a
+toilet under such moving circumstances. No pun intended, I assure you.
+Don't look as though you want to hit me, Harcourt. I would not be guilty
+of a real pun for the world.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt was unable to reply at that moment, as he had to offer
+Audrey his arm and follow Dr. Ross into the dining-room; but as soon as
+they were seated and grace had been said, he addressed Michael.
+
+'I need not ask an omnivorous reader as you are, Burnett, if you
+remember "Elia's" remarks about puns.'
+
+'I suppose you mean that "a pun is a pistol let off at the ear, not a
+feather to tickle the intellect." Poor old "Elia"! what a man he was!
+With all his frailties he was adorable.'
+
+'Humph! I should be sorry to go as far as that; but I own I like his
+quaint, racy style. Dr. Ross is a fervent admirer of "St. Charles," as
+Thackeray once called him.'
+
+'Indeed, I am. I agree with Ainger in regarding him as the last of the
+Elizabethans. I love his fine humour and homely fantastic grandeur of
+style,' returned Dr. Ross warmly. 'The man's whole life, too, is so
+wonderfully pathetic. Few scenes in fiction are so touching as that sad
+scene where the unhappy Mary Lamb feels the dreaded attack of insanity
+coming on, and brother and sister, hand-in-hand, and weeping as they go,
+perform that sorrowful journey across the fields to the house where Mary
+is to be sheltered. I used to cry over that story as a boy.'
+
+Audrey drew a long breath of relief. Her father had started on one of
+his hobbies. All would be well now.
+
+For one moment she had been anxious, very anxious. Like other men,
+Michael had his weaknesses. Nothing would annoy him more than to be
+supposed guilty of a premeditated pun. He always expressed a great deal
+of scorn for what he called a low form of wit--'and which is as far
+removed from wit,' he would add, 'as the slums of the Seven Dials are
+from Buckingham Palace.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt was quite aware of this fastidious dislike on Michael's
+part. It was, therefore, in pure malice that he had asked that question
+about 'Elia'; but Michael's matter-of-fact answer had baffled him, and
+the sole result had been to start a delightful discussion on the
+writings of Charles Lamb and his contemporaries--a subject on which all
+three men talked exceedingly well.
+
+Audrey listened to them with delight. She was aware that Mr. Blake, who
+sat next her, was silent too. When a pause in the conversation occurred,
+she turned round to address him, and found him regarding her with an air
+of intelligent curiosity.
+
+'You seem to take a great deal of interest in all this,' he said, with a
+smile. 'Most ladies would consider it dry. I suppose you read a great
+deal.'
+
+'I am afraid not. I love reading, but one finds so much else to do. But
+it is always a pleasure to me to hear my father talk. My brother-in-law,
+too, is a very clever man.'
+
+'So I should imagine. And Captain Burnett--is he also a relative?'
+
+'Only a sort of cousin. But he has no nearer ties, and he spends half
+his time at Woodcote. My sister and I look upon him as a brother--in
+fact, he has supplied a great want in my life. From a child I have so
+longed to have a brother of my own.'
+
+Mr. Blake looked down at his plate.
+
+'A brother is not always an undivided blessing,' he said in a low voice,
+'especially when he is a daily and hourly reproach to one. Oh, you know
+what I mean,' throwing back his head with a quick, nervous gesture. 'My
+mother says she has told you. I saw you looking at Kester this
+afternoon, but you are aware it was all my fault.'
+
+'But it was only an accident,' she returned gently. 'I hope that you are
+not morbid on the subject, Mr. Blake. Boys are terribly venturesome. I
+wonder more of them are not hurt. I am quite sure Kester does not blame
+you.'
+
+'No, you are right there; but somehow it is difficult for me to forget
+that my unlucky slip has spoiled the poor fellow's life. He is very good
+and patient, and we do all we can for him; but one dare not glance at
+the future. Excuse my bothering you with such a personal matter, but I
+cannot forget the way you looked at Kester; and then my mother said she
+had told you the whole story.'
+
+'I was very much interested,' she began, but just then Mr. Harcourt
+interrupted them by a remark pointedly addressed to Mr. Blake, so that
+he was obliged to break off his conversation with Audrey. This time the
+ladies were decidedly bored--none of them could follow the discussion;
+the conversation at Woodcote was rarely pedantic, but this evening Mr.
+Harcourt chose to argue a purely scholastic question--some translation
+from the Greek, which he declared to be full of gross errors.
+
+Audrey felt convinced that the subject had been chosen with the express
+purpose of crushing the new master; on this topic Michael would be
+unable to afford him the slightest help. True, he had been studying
+Greek for his own pleasure the last two years at her father's
+suggestion, and had made very fair progress, but only a finished scholar
+could have pronounced with any degree of certainty on such a knotty
+point.
+
+She was, therefore, all the more surprised and pleased when she found
+that Mr. Blake proved himself equal to the occasion. He had kept
+modestly in the background while the elder men were speaking, but when
+Mr. Harcourt appealed to him he took his part in the conversation quite
+readily, and expressed himself with the greatest ease and fluency;
+indeed, he not only ventured to contradict Mr. Harcourt, but he brought
+quite a respectable array of authorities to back his opinions.
+
+Audrey felt so interested in watching the changes of expression on her
+brother-in-law's face that she was quite reconciled to the insuperable
+difficulties that such a topic offered to her understanding. The
+sarcastic curve round Mr. Harcourt's mouth relaxed; he grew less dry and
+didactic in speech; each moment his manner showed more earnestness and
+interest. The silent young master was by no means annihilated; on the
+contrary, he proved himself a worthy antagonist. Audrey was quite sorry
+when Geraldine, stifling a yawn, gave her mother an imploring glance.
+Mrs. Ross willingly took the hint, and as Michael opened the door for
+them he whispered in Audrey's ear: 'He is quite capable of taking care
+of himself.' And Audrey nodded assent.
+
+She lingered in the hall a moment to look out on the moonlight, and on
+opening the drawing-room door she heard a few words in Geraldine's
+voice:
+
+'Splendidly handsome--dangerously so, in my opinion; what do you think,
+mother?'
+
+'Well, my dear, I have seldom seen a finer-looking young man; and then
+his manners are so nice. Some clever young people are always pushing
+themselves into the conversation; they think nothing of silencing older
+men. Mr. Blake seems very modest and retiring.'
+
+'Yes, but he is too handsome,' was the regretful reply; and then Audrey
+joined them.
+
+'I knew you would say so,' she observed, with quite a pleased
+expression. 'Handsome is hardly the word; Mr. Blake has a beautiful
+face--he is like a Greek god.'
+
+Geraldine drew herself up a little stiffly.
+
+'My dear Audrey, how absurd! do Greek gods have olive complexions? How
+Percival will laugh when I tell him that!'
+
+'To be sure,' returned Audrey calmly; 'thank you for reminding me that
+you are married, Gage; I am always forgetting it. That is the worst of
+having one's sister married; one is never sure that one's little jokes
+and speeches are not repeated. Now, as my confidences are not intended
+for Percival, I will learn slowly and painfully to hold my tongue for
+the future.'
+
+This very natural speech went home, as Audrey intended it should. With
+all her dictatorial ways and clever management, Geraldine had a very
+warm heart.
+
+'Oh, Audrey dear,' she said, quite grieved at this, 'I hope you are not
+speaking seriously. Of course I will not repeat it to Percival if you do
+not wish it; but when you are married yourself you will know how
+difficult it is to keep back any little thing that interests one.'
+
+'When I am married--I mean, if I be ever married,' substituted Audrey,
+blushing a little, as girls will--'I hope I shall be quite as capable of
+self-control and discrimination as in my single days. I have never
+considered the point very closely; but now I come to think of it, I
+would certainly have an understanding with my husband on the
+wedding-day. "My dear Clive," I would say to him--Clive is a favourite
+name of mine; I hope I shall marry a Clive--"you must understand once
+for all that, though I intend to treat you with wifely confidence, I
+shall only tell my own secrets--not other people's." And he will reply,
+"Audrey, you are the most honourable of women. I respected you before; I
+venerate you now."'
+
+'Audrey, how you talk!' But Mrs. Harcourt could not help laughing.
+Audrey was looking very nice this evening; white always suited her. To
+be sure, her hair might have been smoother. 'There is some sort of charm
+about her that is better than beauty,' she thought, with sisterly
+admiration; and then she asked her mother if she did not think Percival
+looked a little pale.
+
+'He works too hard,' she continued; 'and he will not break himself of
+his old bachelor habit of sitting up late.'
+
+'Men like their own way; you must not be too anxious,' retorted Mrs.
+Ross tranquilly. 'When I first married, I worried myself dreadfully
+about your father; but I soon found it was no use. And look at him now;
+late hours have not hurt him in the least. No one has better health than
+your father.'
+
+But the young wife was only half comforted.
+
+'My father's constitution is different,' she returned. 'Percival is
+strong; but his nerves are irritable; his organisation is more
+sensitive. It is burning both ends of the candle. I tell him he uses
+himself up too lavishly.'
+
+'I used to say much the same things to your father, but he soon cured
+me. He asked me once why I was so bent on bringing him round to my
+opinions. "I do not try to alter yours," I remember he said once, in his
+half-joking way. "I do not ask you to sit up with me; though, no doubt,
+that is part of your wifely duty. I allow you to go to bed when you are
+sleepy, in the most unselfish way. So, my dear, you must allow me the
+same liberty of action." And, would you believe it, I never dared say
+another word to him on the subject.'
+
+'You are a model wife, are you not, mother?' observed Audrey
+caressingly.
+
+'No, dear; I never deserved your father,' returned Mrs. Ross, with much
+feeling, and the tears started to her eyes. 'If only my girls could have
+as happy a life! I am sure dear Geraldine has done well for
+herself--Percival makes her an excellent husband; and if I could only
+see you happily settled, Audrey, I should be perfectly satisfied.'
+
+'Are you so anxious to lose me?' asked the younger girl reproachfully.
+'You must find me a man as good as father, then. I am not so sure that I
+want to be married; I fancy an old maid's mission will suit me best. I
+have too many plans in my head; no respectable man would tolerate me.'
+
+'May I ask what you ladies are talking about?' asked Captain Burnett, as
+he sauntered lazily round the screen that, even in summer-time, shut in
+the fireplace, and made a cosy corner. Mr. Blake followed him.
+
+Audrey looked at them both calmly.
+
+'I was only suggesting my possible mission as a single woman. Don't you
+think I should make a charming old maid, Michael?' and Audrey folded
+her beautifully-shaped arms, and drew herself up; but her dimple
+destroyed the effect. Cyril Blake darted a quick look at her; then he
+crossed the room and sat down by Mrs. Ross, and talked to her and
+Geraldine until it was time for him to take his leave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE GRAY COTTAGE
+
+     'I think I love most people best when they are in adversity; for
+     pity is one of my prevailing passions.'--MARY WOLSTONECRAFT
+     GODWIN'S LETTER.
+
+
+The next morning, as Captain Burnett was strolling across the
+tennis-lawn in search of a shady corner where he could read his paper,
+he encountered Audrey. She was walking in the direction of the gate, and
+had a basket of flowers in her hand.
+
+She was hurrying past him with a nod and a smile, but he coolly stopped
+her.
+
+'May I ask where you are going, my Lady Bountiful?' for this was a name
+he often called her, perhaps in allusion to her sweet, bountiful nature;
+but Audrey, in her simplicity, had never understood the compliment.
+
+She hesitated a moment; and this was so unusual on her part, that
+Captain Burnett metaphorically pricked up his ears. To use his own
+language, he immediately scented the whole business.
+
+'I am going into the town; but I have a great deal to do,' she returned
+quickly. 'Please do not detain me, Michael. I am not like you: I cannot
+afford the luxury of idleness.'
+
+'Well, no; it is rather a dear commodity, certainly,' he replied
+pleasantly, though that hasty speech made him inwardly wince, as though
+someone had touched an unhealed wound. 'Luxury of idleness!' how he
+loathed it!
+
+'If you are too long, I shall come and look after you,' he continued
+significantly; but to this she made no reply. She took herself to task
+as she walked on. She had not been perfectly open with Michael, but then
+he had no right to question her movements. She had spoken the truth; she
+certainly had business in the town--several orders to give--before she
+went to the Gray Cottage. Michael was her ally--her faithful, trusty
+ally. No knight sworn to serve his liege lady had ever been more
+zealous in his fealty. But even to Michael she did not wish to confess
+that the greater part of the morning would be spent at the Gray Cottage.
+
+Audrey had no idea that her cousin had guessed her little secret--that
+he was smiling over it as he unfolded his paper. Her conscience was
+perfectly easy with regard to her motives. Pure compassion for those two
+poor children was her only inducement. There was no danger of
+encountering the elder brother.
+
+The windows of the great schoolroom opened on the terrace, and as Audrey
+had passed to gather her flowers she had had a glimpse of a dark,
+closely-cropped head, and the perfect profile that she had admired last
+night, and she knew the new master would be fully occupied all the
+morning. Audrey felt a little needle-prick of unavailing compunction as
+she remembered her allusion to the Greek god yesterday.
+
+'I wish I were not so foolishly outspoken!' she thought. 'I always say
+just what comes into my head. With some people it would not matter--with
+Michael, for example. He never misunderstands one's meaning. But poor
+dear Gage is so literal. Clever as she is, she has no sense of humour.'
+
+Here she paused at the grocer's to give her orders, but directly she
+left the shop she took up the same thread again:
+
+'I am always making resolutions to be more careful, but it never seems
+any use. The thoughts will come tumbling out like ill-behaved children
+just let out of school. There is no keeping them in order. I fancy Mr.
+Blake is outspoken, too, when he gets rid of his shyness. I was so
+surprised when he blurted out that little bit about his brother. He
+looked so sad over it, too. I think I must have made a mistake in
+supposing that he only cared for his mother. It was odd to make me his
+confidante; but, then, people always do tell me things. He is Irish, of
+course. Irishmen are always impulsive.'
+
+But here another list of orders to be given at the ironmonger's checked
+these vague musings.
+
+Audrey was fully expected at the Cottage. She had hardly lifted the
+latch of the gate before Mollie appeared in the doorway.
+
+'I knew you would come,' she said shyly, as Audrey kissed her and put
+the flowers in her hands. 'Oh what lovely flowers! Are they for mamma,
+Miss Ross? Thank you ever so much! Mamma is so passionately fond of
+flowers, and so is Cyril.'
+
+'And not Kester?'
+
+'Oh yes; he loves them too,' burying her face in the delicious
+blossoms--'roses especially; they are his favourite flowers. But, of
+course, no one thinks of sending them to Kester; he is only a boy.'
+
+'And I daresay you like them, too?'
+
+Mollie vehemently nodded assent.
+
+'Well, then, I shall bring you and Kester some next time. You are right
+in thinking those are for your mother. May I go in and speak to
+her?--for we have to be very busy, you know.'
+
+'Mamma is not up yet,' returned Mollie; and as Audrey looked surprised,
+she added quickly: 'She and Cyril sat up so late last night. She was
+wanting to hear all about his evening, and it was such a lovely night
+that they were in the garden until nearly twelve o'clock, and so, of
+course, she is tired this morning.'
+
+Audrey made no reply to this. Mrs. Blake was charming, but she was
+certainly a little erratic in her habits. No wonder there was so little
+comfort in the house when the mistress disliked early rising.
+
+Mollie seemed to take it as a matter of course; besides, she was too
+much absorbed in the flowers to notice Miss Ross's reproving silence.
+She rushed off to find a jug of water, and Audrey turned into the
+dining-room, which presented the same aspect of confusion that it had
+worn yesterday. Kester was on his knees trying to unpack a hamper of
+books. It cost him a painful effort to rise, and he looked so pale and
+exhausted that Audrey at once took him in hand.
+
+'My dear boy,' she said kindly, as she helped him to the sofa, 'how very
+imprudent! You have no right to try your strength in that way. How could
+Mollie let you touch those books!'
+
+'She has everything to do, and I wished to help her,' he returned,
+panting with the exertion. 'Cyril wants his books so badly, and he has
+put up the bookcase, you see. He did that this morning--he had scarcely
+time to eat his breakfast--and then he asked Mollie if she would unpack
+the books.'
+
+'I will help Mollie,' returned Audrey, laying aside her hat. 'Now,
+Kester, I want to ask you a favour. You will only be in our way here.
+Will you please take possession of that nice hammock-chair that someone
+has put outside the window? and we will just fly round, as the Yankee
+domestics say.'
+
+Audrey spoke with such good-natured decision, with such assurance of
+being obeyed, that Kester did not even venture on a grumbling
+remonstrance--the poor fellow was too much accustomed to be set on one
+side, and to be told that he was no use. But Audrey had no intention of
+leaving him in idleness.
+
+'By and by, when the room is a little clearer, you can be of the
+greatest help to us; for you can sit at the table and dust the books in
+readiness for us to arrange.' And Kester's face brightened up at that.
+
+Audrey was quite in her element. As she often told her mother, she was
+robust enough for a housemaid. The well-ordered establishment at
+Woodcote, with its staff of trained domestics and its excellent matron,
+afforded little scope for her youthful activities. Mrs. Ross was her own
+housekeeper, and though she had contentedly relinquished her duties to
+Geraldine for the last few years, she had not yet offered to transfer
+them to Audrey.
+
+Audrey pretended to be a little hurt at this arrangement, but in reality
+she was secretly relieved. Her tastes were not sufficiently domestic.
+She liked better to supplement her mother's duties than to take the
+entire lead. In her way she was extremely useful. She wrote a great many
+of the business letters, undertook all the London shopping, and assisted
+Mrs. Ross in entertaining her numerous visitors, many of whom were the
+boys' mothers; and though Mrs. Ross still regretted the loss of her
+elder daughter, and complained that no one could replace Geraldine, she
+was fully sensible of Audrey's efficiency and good-humoured and ready
+help.
+
+'Audrey is as good as gold, and does all I want her to do,' she said to
+Geraldine, when the latter had questioned her very closely on the
+subject.
+
+It was no trouble to Audrey to dash off half a dozen letters before
+post-time, or to drive into Sittingbourne to meet a batch of boys'
+relatives. She was naturally active, and hated an idle moment; but no
+work suited her so well as this Herculean task of evoking order out of
+the Blake chaos. Molly was so charmed with her energy, so fired by her
+example, that she worked like a dozen Mollies. The books were soon
+unpacked and on the table; then Biddy was called in to clear away the
+straw and hampers, and to have a grand sweep. Nothing more could be done
+until this had been carried out, so they left Biddy to revel in dust and
+tea-leaves, while they turned out another hamper or two in the kitchen;
+for in the course of their labours Mollie had confided to Audrey that
+certain indispensable articles were still missing.
+
+'The best thing would be to get rid of as many of the hampers as
+possible,' replied Audrey; 'they are only in the way; let us pack them
+up in the yard, and then one can have room to move.'
+
+When Biddy had finished her labours and all the dirt had been removed,
+Kester hobbled in willingly to dust the books, and Audrey and Mollie
+arranged them on the shelves. There were not so very many, but they were
+all well and carefully chosen--Greek and Latin authors, all Carlyle's
+and Emerson's works, a few books of history and philosophy, the
+principal poets, and some standard works of fiction: Dickens, Thackeray,
+and Sir Walter Scott--the latter bound very handsomely. Audrey felt
+sure, as she placed the books on the shelves, that this little library
+was collected by a great deal of self-denial and effort. The young
+student had probably little money to spare. With the exception of Sir
+Walter Scott and Thackeray, none of the books were handsomely bound;
+that they were well read was obvious, for a volume of Browning's poems
+happening to fall from her hand, Audrey could see profuse pencil-marks,
+and one philosophical book had copious notes on the margin.
+
+'They are all Cyril's books,' observed Mollie, unconsciously answering
+Audrey's thought. 'Poor Cyril! it is such a trouble to him that he
+cannot afford to buy more books. When he was at Oxford he used to go
+without things to get them; he said he would sooner starve than be
+without books. Is it not sad to be so dreadfully poor, Miss Ross? But I
+suppose you don't know how it feels. Mamma bought him that lovely
+edition of Thackeray--oh, and Sir Walter Scott's novels too. Don't you
+like that binding? it is very expensive. Cyril was so vexed at mamma's
+spending all that money on him when Kester wanted things, I am afraid he
+hardly thanked her, and mamma cried about it.'
+
+Mollie was chattering on without thinking until a bell made her start
+and hurry away. She did not come back for some time, and Audrey finished
+her task alone.
+
+'I have been making mamma some coffee,' she said gravely; 'she had one
+of her headaches. She has sent you a message, Miss Ross; she is so
+delighted with the flowers. She wanted to get up at once and thank you,
+and then she thought she had better lie still until her headache was
+better; but she will be down presently.'
+
+'Then we must make haste and finish the room before she comes. Mollie,
+I can do nothing with those pictures; we will put them up against the
+wall until your brother can hang them. Let me see; that corner behind
+the writing-table--no one can see them there. Quick! hand me another. Is
+this a portrait of your father?' stopping to regard a half-length figure
+of a fine-looking man in naval uniform.
+
+'No, that is only an uncle of mamma's; I forget his name. Do you
+remember it, Kester? Papa was a merchant--at least, I think so.'
+
+'Has he been long dead?'
+
+'Oh yes; he died abroad when Kester and I were quite little; that is why
+we are so poor. Mamma has often told us that it is her money we are
+living on. I don't know how she managed to send Cyril to Oxford; but we
+had no house all that time, only poky little lodgings. Are we going to
+arrange the furniture now, Miss Ross? Oh, how comfortable the room
+begins to look, and how delighted Cyril will be when he comes home this
+afternoon! He says that Dr. Ross wants him after school, so he will not
+run home before dinner. How glad I am that Cyril will always have a nice
+dinner now! He does so hate Biddy's cooking; he declares everything
+tastes alike. You say so, too, don't you, Kester?'
+
+Kester's answer was a shrug of the shoulders; he seemed more reserved
+than Mollie, who was chattering to her new friend with all the frankness
+and thoughtlessness of a very young girl.
+
+'Mamma never minds what sort of dinner Biddy sends up, if only Cyril
+does not find fault. I think she would live on tea and dry bread all the
+year round if only Cyril could have nice things.'
+
+Cyril--always Cyril! Audrey turned the subject by asking Mollie if she
+would like the couch in the window. Mollie clapped her hands delightedly
+at the effect.
+
+'It looks beautiful; don't you think so, Kester? And how funny! Miss
+Ross has put your own particular little table beside it, just as though
+she guessed that it was to hold your desk and your books. There is
+Kester's little box of books, but he will unpack them himself by and
+by.'
+
+'Mollie, have you ordered the dinner?' interrupted Kester a little
+anxiously--and poor Mollie's face fell.
+
+'Oh dear, I am so sorry, but I have forgotten all about it; the butcher
+has not called, and there are only those potatoes and bread and cheese.
+Mamma is right when she says my head is like a sieve.'
+
+'Why don't you send Biddy for some chops, my dear?' remarked Audrey very
+sensibly.
+
+Kester had spoken in a loud whisper, but she had overheard every word.
+Mollie started off with a look of relief to hunt up the old woman, and
+when Audrey found herself alone with Kester she could not help saying to
+him:
+
+'Mollie is a very young housekeeper--girls of fourteen are liable to
+forget sometimes;' but to her surprise he fired up at once:
+
+'They all expect too much of her; I hate to see her slave as she does:
+it is not right, it is not fair--I tell Cyril so. She has no time to
+herself; all her lessons are neglected. If only mother would send Biddy
+away and get another servant!'
+
+'Who teaches Mollie, then?' she asked, a little curiously.
+
+'Oh, mother gives her lessons sometimes, but they are not very regular,
+and I help her with arithmetic and Latin. Cyril always gives me an hour
+or two in the evening, when his work is done, but of course Mollie does
+not care to learn Greek.'
+
+'Do you mean that your brother gives you lessons when he has been
+teaching all day?'
+
+'Yes, and he is awfully tired sometimes; but he never likes me to be
+disappointed. Mother often tries to make him take a walk instead; but
+Cyril is such a brick: he never will listen to her.'
+
+Audrey felt a little glow of satisfaction as she heard this. What a kind
+brother Mr. Blake seemed to be--how truly estimable! she would never
+judge hastily of anyone again. Just then the clock struck one, and she
+told Kester that she must hurry away. She was disappointed that Mrs.
+Blake had not yet appeared--she wanted to see the face that had haunted
+her so persistently; but the bewitching widow had not shown herself.
+
+'I am afraid I must go, or I shall be late for luncheon,' she said
+hurriedly.
+
+'I will tell Mollie,' returned the boy; and then he said a little
+awkwardly: 'You have been awfully good to us, Miss Ross; I don't know
+how Mollie and I are to thank you. You must be quite tired out.'
+
+Audrey laughed.
+
+'I am not so easily tired, Kester, and I am rather fond of this sort of
+work. Do you think your mother would mind if I were to look in to-morrow
+afternoon and help a little with the drawing-room? Mollie said something
+about it just now, and I half promised--she is to help Biddy put up the
+plates and dishes this afternoon; that will be as much as she can do.'
+
+'I am sure mother will be only too delighted,' replied Kester
+gratefully; and then Audrey went in search of Mollie, and found her
+occupied with the chops, while Biddy cleaned the knives. Mollie turned a
+scorched cheek to her.
+
+'Dear Miss Ross, thank you ever so much,' she said fervently as Audrey
+repeated her promise of looking in the next afternoon.
+
+'Poor little soul! how interested Michael will be when I tell him all
+about her!' she thought as she walked briskly towards Woodcote.
+
+Audrey had scarcely closed the green gate behind her before Mrs. Blake's
+foot sounded on the stairs. She looked pale and heavy-eyed, and walked
+into the room a little languidly; but if Audrey had seen her she would
+only have thought that her paleness invested her with fresh interest.
+
+'Miss Ross has gone, mamma,' observed Mollie regretfully, as she
+followed her into the room.
+
+'Yes, I know; I felt too jaded to face visitors this morning--Miss Ross
+looks at one so, and my nerves would not stand it. How are you, Kester?'
+kissing his forehead lightly; 'you look better than usual. I don't
+believe I closed my eyes until four o'clock. Dear me!' interrupting
+herself; 'there are Cyril's books nicely arranged--did you do them,
+Mollie? Why, the room looks quite comfortable and homelike. Miss Ross
+must have helped you a great deal.'
+
+'Oh yes, mamma,' exclaimed Mollie and Kester eagerly; and they were
+about to expatiate on Audrey's wonderful goodness, when their mother
+checked them:
+
+'Please don't speak so loud, children, or you will make my head bad
+again. I will tell you what we will do, Mollie. We will make those
+curtains, and then this room will be quite finished. There are only the
+hems and just the tops to do. We can have no difficulty in finishing
+them before Cyril comes home. The red tablecloth is at the top of the
+black box--if you will fetch it, Mollie--and I have arranged the flowers
+in that pretty green vase.'
+
+'But, mamma,' pleaded Mollie, in a vexed voice, 'the room will do quite
+well without curtains for one day, and I promised Miss Ross to help
+Biddy with the plates and dishes. All the hampers are unpacked, and
+there is not a corner in the kitchen to put anything--and it does make
+Biddy so cross.'
+
+'Nonsense, Mollie! Who minds about Biddy's crossness! I suppose I may do
+as I like in my own house. Let us have dinner, and then we will set to
+work at once--you and I--and Kester can read to us;' and, seeing that
+her mother's mind was fully made up, Mollie very wisely held her tongue,
+probably admonished thereto by a mild kick from Kester.
+
+So, as soon as the chops had been eaten, Mollie produced her mother's
+work-basket and a shabby little cotton-box that was appropriated to her
+own use, and sewed industriously, only pausing at intervals to watch the
+white, slender fingers that seemed to make the needle fly through the
+stuff.
+
+Mrs. Blake was evidently an accomplished seamstress, and long before
+four o'clock the curtains were put up, and duly admired by the whole
+family and Biddy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+KESTER'S HERO
+
+     'Measure thy life by loss instead of gain--
+     Not by wine drunk, but by the wine poured forth;
+     For love's strength standeth in love's sacrifice;
+     And whose suffers most hath most to give.'
+
+                                        UGO BASSI.
+
+
+Audrey was bent on keeping her promise to Mollie, but she found a great
+deal of finesse and skilful management were necessary to secure her
+afternoon from interruption.
+
+First, there was a note from Hillside. Mrs. Harcourt had to pay a round
+of visits, and would be glad of her sister's company: and as Mrs. Ross
+evidently thought that a refusal was impossible under such
+circumstances, Audrey felt that she was in a dilemma.
+
+'Gage will have the carriage,' she said, with a trace of annoyance in
+her tone. 'She cannot possibly require me, especially as she knows an
+afternoon spent in paying formal calls is my pet abomination.'
+
+'But, my dear Audrey, you would surely not allow your sister to go
+alone,' began her mother in a voice of mild remonstrance. She very
+seldom interfered with Audrey--indeed, that young person was in most
+respects her own mistress--but when Geraldine's interests were involved
+Mrs. Ross could be firm. 'You are very good-natured,' she went on, 'and
+I am sure it is very good of you to take all that trouble for those poor
+neglected children'--for Mrs. Ross's motherly sympathies were already
+enlisted on behalf of Mollie and Kester--'but, of course, your first
+duty is to your sister.'
+
+'But, my dear mother, a promise is a promise, and poor little Mollie is
+expecting me.' And then a bright idea came to Audrey. 'Why should you
+not go with Gage yourself? It is a lovely afternoon, and the drive will
+do you good. Gage would much prefer your company to mine, and you know
+how much she admires your new bonnet;' and though Mrs. Ross faintly
+demurred to this, she was in the end overruled by Audrey.
+
+'Dear mother! she and Gage will enjoy themselves thoroughly,' thought
+Audrey, as she watched Mrs. Ross drive from the door, looking the
+picture of a well-dressed English gentlewoman.
+
+Audrey had to inflict another disappointment before she could get her
+own way. Michael wanted her to go with him to the cricket-field. There
+was a match being played, and on these occasions Audrey was always his
+companion. She understood the game as well as he did, and always took an
+intelligent interest in it. Audrey was sorry to refuse him and to see
+him go off alone.
+
+'Never mind; I daresay I shall only stay for an hour,' he said, as he
+took down his hat and walked with her to the gate of the Gray Cottage.
+
+Mollie was on the watch for her, and darted out to meet her.
+
+'Oh, Miss Ross,' she said excitedly, 'I have so much to tell you! Mamma
+has had to go up to London this morning on business, and she is so sorry
+because she did not see you yesterday; and I was to give you all sorts
+of messages and thanks. And now please do come into the kitchen a
+moment, and you will see how hard we have worked.'
+
+Audrey followed her at once.
+
+'Oh, Mollie, how could you have done so much!' she exclaimed in genuine
+surprise, as she looked round her.
+
+The plates and dishes were neatly arranged on the dresser, the
+dish-covers and tins hanging in their places, the crate of glass and
+china emptied of its contents and in the yard. The floor had been
+scrubbed as well as the table, and Biddy stood by the side of her
+freshly-blackleaded stove, with the first smile Audrey had yet seen on
+her wrinkled face.
+
+'It is not all Miss Mollie's doing,' she said, with a chuckle, as she
+carried off the kettle.
+
+'Did your mother help you?' asked Audrey, for Mollie only looked
+mysterious.
+
+'Mamma! Oh dear no! She was busy all the evening with the curtains. Oh,
+what fun! I do wish Kester were here, but he is studying his Greek. Dear
+Miss Ross, you do look so puzzled. It was not mamma, and it was not
+Biddy, though she cleaned the kitchen this morning; and of course it
+could not be Kester.'
+
+'I will give it up,' returned Audrey, laughing. 'Some magician must have
+been at work--and a very clever magician, too.'
+
+'Oh, I will tell Cyril that!' replied Mollie, clapping her hands. 'Why
+did you not guess Cyril, Miss Ross? He is clever enough for anything.'
+
+'Do you mean Mr. Blake put up all these plates and dishes?' observed
+Audrey, feeling as much surprised as an Athenian damsel would have been
+if she had heard of Apollo turning scullion.
+
+'Yes, indeed! I must tell you all about it,' returned Mollie
+garrulously, for she was an inveterate chatterbox. 'You know, I had
+promised to help Biddy because she was in such a muddle, and then mamma
+came down and said we must get the dining-room curtains ready, to
+surprise Cyril when he came home.
+
+'Well, he was very pleased; but I am afraid mamma thought that he took
+more notice of the way his books were arranged than of the curtains; but
+he said it all looked very nice, and that we were getting to rights now;
+and then mamma said that, as she was in the mood for work, we might as
+well do the drawing-room curtains too.'
+
+'But, my dear Mollie, the furniture is not yet arranged.'
+
+'No, of course not; but you don't understand mamma. She never does
+things quite like other people. She likes either to work all day long,
+and not give herself time for meals even, or else to do nothing; she
+likes beginning things, but she hates being compelled to finish them.
+That is why I am obliged to wear this shabby old frock,' looking down at
+it ruefully. 'Mamma has two such pretty ones half done, and I don't know
+when she will finish them.'
+
+'Does your mother make all your frocks, dear?'
+
+'Yes; and she does work so beautifully--everyone says so. But she is not
+always in the mood, and then it troubles her; she was in the curtain
+mood last night. Cyril saw I was vexed about something, and when mamma
+went out of the room he asked me if I were tired; and I could hardly
+help crying as I told him about my promise to you; and then he called me
+a little goose, and pulled my hair, as he does sometimes, and told me to
+leave it to him.'
+
+'Yes----' as Mollie paused from sheer want of breath.
+
+'Of course Cyril can always manage mamma. He sent me into the kitchen,
+and in ten minutes he came after me, and asked what was to be done.
+Kester dusted all the glass, and Cyril and I did the rest. We were hard
+at work till ten o'clock; and Biddy was so pleased.'
+
+'And now we must go upstairs,' returned Audrey, when Mollie's story was
+told. 'Perhaps Biddy will be good enough to help us.' And in a little
+while the three were hard at work.
+
+Audrey and Mollie arranged the shabby furniture to the best advantage.
+One or two Oriental rugs were spread on the dark-polished floor; then
+the curtains were hung and draped in the most effective manner, and some
+old china, that Mollie said was her mother's special treasure, was
+carefully washed and placed on the shelves of an old cabinet.
+
+'It really looks very nice,' observed Audrey contentedly, when Biddy had
+gone down to see after the tea. She had enjoyed her afternoon far more
+than if she had been paying those calls with Geraldine. 'I always liked
+this room so much;' and she gave a touch to the big Japanese screen and
+flecked some dust from the writing-table. 'I daresay your mother will
+alter the position of the furniture--people always have their own ideas.
+But I hope she will not move the couch; it stands so well in that
+recess. Do you think she will like this little table in the window,
+Mollie? I am sure this would be my favourite seat;' and Audrey took it
+for a moment as she spoke, and looked down at the old arches and the
+quiet courtyard, with its well-worn flagstones. The martins were
+twittering about the eaves; some brown, dusty sparrows were chirping
+loudly. The ivy-covered buildings round the corner were just visible;
+and a large gray cat moved stealthily between the arches, intent on some
+subtle mischief. Mr. Charrington's boys were all on the cricket-field,
+watching an exciting match between Rutherford and Haileybury, and the
+school-house was deserted.
+
+'That must be your seat when you come to see us,' observed Mollie
+affectionately. 'Mamma was only saying this morning that she had taken a
+fancy to you, and hoped you would come very often; and Kester said he
+hoped so, too, because you were so very kind.'
+
+'Did you have many friends at Headingly?' asked Audrey absently.
+
+She was wondering to whom Kester was talking. She could hear his voice
+through the open window; it sounded bright and animated. It could not
+possibly be his brother; Mr. Blake would be with the boys on the
+cricket-field. Perhaps Mrs. Blake had returned from town.
+
+'We had no friends at all,' returned Mollie disconsolately; 'at least,
+no real friends. People just called on us and left their cards. Mrs.
+Bryce was very kind to Kester, but mamma never got on with her. We none
+of us liked Headingly much, except Cyril. Everyone was nice to him, but
+when mamma fretted and said she was miserable, and that no one in the
+place cared for her, he seemed to lose interest, too; and when this
+vacancy occurred, he just said he had had enough of it, and that mamma
+would be happier in a fresh place, and so we came here, and now we have
+found you;' and Mollie's brown eyes were very soft as she spoke.
+
+'Oh, you will find plenty of people to like at Rutherford,' replied
+Audrey. 'You have not seen my mother yet, Mollie; she is so good to
+everyone, and so is father. And then there is my cousin, Captain
+Burnett, who half lives with us; he is one of the nicest men possible.'
+
+But as Audrey spoke, she had no idea that Michael was that minute
+talking to Kester. It fell out in this way: Michael found it slow on the
+cricket-field without Audrey; so many people came up and talked to him
+that he got quite bored. Captain Burnett was a general favourite with
+men as well as women; he had the reputation of being a hero: women
+pitied him for his ill-health and misfortunes, and men admired him for
+the cheerful pluck with which he endured them.
+
+'Burnett is a pleasant fellow and a gentleman,' was one observation.
+'Perhaps he is a bit solemn at times, but I fancy that confounded wound
+of his gives him trouble. Anyhow, he never plagues other people with his
+ailments. "Grin and bear it"--I fancy that is Burnett's motto.'
+
+Michael found the cricket-field dull without Audrey's liveliness to give
+zest to the afternoon; she always took people away when he was tired. He
+had had enough of it long before the match was over. Just as he was
+sauntering homewards he encountered Mr. Blake, and in the course of
+brief conversation he learnt that Mrs. Blake was in town.
+
+Michael thought he would call and see if Audrey were ready to come
+home--it would do no harm to inquire at the door; but Biddy, who was
+scouring the doorsteps, told him abruptly to step in and he would find
+the lady; and, half amused at his own coolness, he, nothing loath,
+accepted the invitation.
+
+He found Kester alone in the dining-room busy over his lessons. He
+looked up in some astonishment at the sight of a strange gentleman, and
+Zack, the retriever, growled rather inhospitably at Booty. Perhaps the
+Dachs-hund's short legs affronted him.
+
+'Am I disturbing you?' asked Michael in his most genial manner. And he
+looked at the boy's pale intelligent face with much interest. 'I have
+come to see after my cousin, Miss Ross. Is she anywhere about? My name
+is Captain Burnett.'
+
+'Oh, I know,' returned Kester, flushing a little nervously under the
+scrutiny of those keen blue eyes; 'Cyril told us about you. Miss Ross is
+upstairs with Mollie; they are putting the drawing-room to rights, but
+they will be down to tea presently. Will you sit down,' still more
+nervously, 'or shall I call Mollie?'
+
+'No, no; there is no hurry, unless I am interrupting you,' with a glance
+at Kester's books. 'You are doing Greek, eh?'
+
+'Yes, I am getting ready for Cyril this evening; but I am too tired to
+do more.'
+
+And Kester pushed away his papers with a movement that betrayed latent
+irritability. Michael knew that sign of weakness well.
+
+'That is right; shut up your books,' he said with ready kindness. 'Never
+work when you are tired: it is bad economy; it is using up one's stock
+of fuel too recklessly--lighting a furnace to cook a potato. The results
+are not worth it. Tired work is bad work--I have proved it.'
+
+'I am generally tired,' returned Kester with a sigh. And it was sad to
+see the gravity that crept over the young face. 'It does not do to think
+too much of one's feelings; one has just to bear it, you know. I am
+ignorant enough as it is, and I must learn; I will learn!' setting his
+teeth hard.
+
+Michael shot a quick glance at the lad; then he turned over the leaves
+of the book next him for a moment in silence.
+
+'I must know more of this fellow,' he thought; 'Audrey is right; she is
+generally right about people.' Then in his ordinary quiet tone:
+
+'I wonder your brother finds time for private tuition. I live at the
+lower school, you know, and so I understand all about the junior
+master's work. Mr. Blake has his evenings free generally, but there is
+dormitory work and----'
+
+'Cyril says he will always give me an hour and a half,' interrupted
+Kester eagerly. 'Of course, it is not good for him to have any more
+teaching; but he says he would hate to see me grow up a
+dunce--and--and'--swallowing down some secret emotion--' I think it
+would break my heart not to know things.'
+
+'And you want to be a classical scholar?' in the same grave tones.
+
+'I want to learn everything;' and here there was a sudden kindling in
+the boy's eyes. 'I must do something, and my lameness hinders everything
+but that--perhaps, if I learn plenty of Latin and Greek, I may be able
+to help Cyril one day. We often talk about it, and even mother thinks it
+is a good plan. One day Cyril hopes to have a school of his own--when he
+is older, you know--and then I could take the younger boys off his hands
+and save him the cost of an usher; don't you think that would be
+possible?' looking anxiously at Michael, for somehow those steady clear
+eyes seemed so thoroughly to comprehend him.
+
+'I think it an excellent plan,' retained Michael slowly; "knowledge is
+power"--we all know that. Do you know,' drawling out his words a little,
+'that I have been working at Greek, too, for the last two years? I took
+it up as a sort of amusement when I was seedy; it would not be bad fun
+to work together sometimes. I daresay you are ahead of me in Greek, but
+I don't believe you could beat me in mathematics. We could help each
+other, and it would be good practice. I suppose your brother gives you
+lessons in mathematics.'
+
+Kester shook his head.
+
+'There is not time for everything, and Cyril always says mathematics are
+not in his line--he is a classical master, you see.'
+
+'Oh yes, that is easily understood; but you can have more than one
+master. Come, shall we make a bargain? Will you read Greek with me? and
+I will give you an hour three times a week for mathematics, or anything
+else you like. I am an idle man, and any fixed occupation would be a
+boon to me.'
+
+'Do you mean it?' was the breathless answer; and then he added, a little
+shyly: 'I am awfully obliged; I should like it of all things; but you
+are not strong, are you?--Miss Ross told us so.'
+
+'Not particularly; I was rather knocked about by the Zulus, you know,
+and my leg gives me a good deal of trouble. I am pretty heavily
+handicapped--we are both in the same boat, are we not?--but we may as
+well make a fight for it.'
+
+'Someone told me,' returned Kester, in a tone of great awe, 'that you
+have the Victoria Cross, Captain Burnett.'
+
+Michael nodded; he never cared to be questioned on the subject.
+
+'Will you let Mollie and me see it one day?' half whispered the boy. 'I
+hope you don't mind my asking you, but I have always so wanted to see
+it. I am afraid you won't tell us all about it, but I should dearly love
+to hear.'
+
+No one had ever induced Michael to tell that story; the merest allusion
+to his gallantry always froze him up in a moment--even Dr. Ross, who was
+his nearest confidant, had never heard the recital from his own lips.
+But for once Michael let himself be persuaded; Kester's boyish eagerness
+prevailed, and, to his own surprise, Michael found himself giving the
+terrible details in a cool, business-like manner.
+
+No wonder Kester forgot the time as he listened; the lad's sensitive
+frame thrilled with passionate envy at the narrative. At last he had met
+a hero face to face. What were those old Greek fellows--Ajax, or Hector
+or any of those gaudy warriors--compared with this quiet English
+soldier?
+
+'Oh, if I could only be you!' he sighed, as Michael ended his recital;
+'if I could look back on a deed like that! How many lives did you save,
+Captain Burnett?--you told me, but I have forgotten. I think you are the
+happiest man I know.'
+
+Kester in his boyish reticence could not speak out his inmost thought,
+or he would have added: 'And the greatest and the grandest man I have
+ever seen.'
+
+A dim, inscrutable smile flitted over Captain Burnett's features.
+
+'My dear fellow, happiness is a purely relative term. I am not a great
+believer in happiness. A soldier without his work is hardly to be
+envied.'
+
+Kester was young, but his life had already taught him many things. He
+was acute enough to detect a note of bitterness in his new friend's
+voice. It said, more than his words, that Captain Burnett was a
+disappointed man. He looked at him wistfully for a moment.
+
+'Yes, I know what you mean. You would like to be back with your
+regiment. It is very hard--very hard, of course; but you are not
+suffering for nothing, like me. Don't you see the difference?'--dropping
+his voice. 'I have got this pain to bear, and no good comes of it; it is
+just bearing, and nothing else. But you have suffered in saving other
+men's lives. It is a kind of ransom. Oh, I don't know how to express
+myself, but it must be happiness to have a memory like that!'
+
+Kester had spoken with a sort of involuntary outburst. For a moment
+Captain Burnett turned his head aside. He felt rebuked by this crude,
+boyish enthusiasm, which had gone so straight to the heart of things.
+Why was he, the grown man, so selfish, so impatient, when this poor lad
+acquiesced so meekly in his fate? Had Kester deserved his lot?
+
+'You are right,' observed Michael, in a low tone. 'One ought only to be
+thankful, and not complain.'
+
+And just at this moment Audrey came in, and stood on the threshold
+transfixed with amazement, until Michael rose and offered her a chair.
+
+'You here!' she gasped. 'I thought I heard voices. Mollie, this is my
+cousin, Captain Burnett. I suppose we must let him stay to tea.'
+
+Mollie gave her invitation very shyly. The poor child was thinking of
+her shabby frock, with the great rent in the skirt, so hastily cobbled
+up. The pale man with the reddish moustache was very formidable in
+Mollie's eyes. Mollie was sure her hand would tremble when she lifted
+the heavy teapot. She had been so looking forward to having a cosy tea
+with their dear Miss Ross, and now everything was spoilt.
+
+When Mollie was shy she always looked a little sulky; but Michael, who
+noticed her embarrassment, set himself to charm it away.
+
+Biddy had set the little tea-table under the acacia-tree; but as Mollie,
+blushing and awkward, commenced her arduous duties, she found herself
+assisted by the formidable Captain Burnett.
+
+Before half an hour was over Mollie thought him quite the nicest man
+that she had ever seen. He was so kind, so helpful; he told such
+interesting stories. Mollie forgot her Cinderella rags as she listened.
+Her eyes sparkled; a pretty colour came to her face; her rough brown
+hair had gleams of gold in it. Mollie did not look plain or awkward
+then.
+
+'Her eyes are nice, and she has a sweet voice and a ringing laugh,'
+thought Michael as he glanced at her.
+
+How merry they all were! What nonsense they talked, as they sat there
+watching some pigeons circling among the arches! The little garden was
+still and pleasant. Zack was stretched out beside them, with Booty
+curled up near him. Audrey was the first to call attention to the
+lateness of the hour.
+
+'We must go home now, Michael,' she said, in a tone of regret, which was
+loudly echoed by Mollie and Kester.
+
+Mollie closed the green gate after them; then she rushed back to Kester.
+
+'Do you like him--Captain Burnett, I mean?' she asked eagerly. 'I was so
+afraid of him at first; his eyes seem to look one through and through,
+even when he says nothing. But he is kind--very kind.'
+
+'Is that all you have found out about him?' returned her brother
+contemptuously. 'That is so like a girl! Who cares about his eyes? Do
+you know what he is? He is a hero--he has the Victoria Cross. He has
+saved a lot of lives. Come here, and I will tell you all about it; it
+will make your hair stand on end more than it does now.'
+
+But the story made Mollie cry, and from that hour she and Kester elected
+Captain Burnett to the position of their favourite hero.
+
+'We must tell Cyril all about him when he comes home,' observed Mollie,
+drying her eyes. 'You are right, Kester. Captain Burnett is quite the
+best, and the nicest, and the bravest man I have ever seen.'
+
+'Hear, hear!' interposed Cyril mischievously, thrusting his dark face
+out of the dining-room window. He had heard the whole story with a great
+deal of interest. And then, as Mollie darted towards him with a little
+shriek of assumed anger, he laughed, and sauntered out into the garden.
+
+'Let us do our Greek out here, old fellow,' he said, throwing himself
+down on the grass, while Zack jumped on him. 'Have you got some tea for
+me, Mollie, or have you forgotten the teapot in your hero-worship? How
+late mother is!' He hesitated and looked at Kester. 'She would like me
+to meet her; it is such a long, lonely walk. But no'--as a cloud stole
+over Kester's face--'perhaps she will take the omnibus. Open your books
+and let me see your day's work;' and Cyril quietly repressed a yawn as
+he took a cup of cold tea from Mollie's hand.
+
+He was tired. A walk through the dewy lanes would refresh him. He was in
+a restless mood; he wanted to be alone, to stretch himself and to
+think--perhaps to indulge in some youthful dream. But he was used to
+combating these moods; he would rather bear anything than disappoint
+Kester. And then he drank off his tea without a murmur, and the next
+moment the two brothers were hard at work.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+'I HOPE BETTER THINGS OF AUDREY'
+
+     'Your manners are always under examination, and by committees
+     little suspected--a police in citizen's clothes--who are awarding
+     or denying you very high prizes when you least think of
+     it.'--EMERSON.
+
+
+Mrs. Harcourt had had a successful afternoon. All the nicest people had
+been at home, and a great many pleasant things had been said to her; her
+mother had been a charming companion. Nevertheless, there was a slight
+cloud on Mrs. Harcourt's face as she walked through the shrubbery that
+led to her house, and the fold of care was still on her brow as she
+entered her husband's study--a pleasant room on the ground-floor,
+overlooking the garden. Mr. Harcourt was reading, but he put down his
+magazine and greeted his wife with a smile. He was just rising from his
+seat, but she prevented him by laying her hand on his shoulder.
+
+'Don't move, Percival; you look so comfortable. I will sit by you a
+minute. I hope I am not interrupting you.'
+
+'Such an interruption is only pleasant, my dear,' was the polite answer.
+'Well, have you and Audrey had a nice afternoon?'
+
+'Mother came with me. Audrey had some ridiculous engagement with the
+Blakes. Percival, I am growing seriously uneasy at this new vagary on
+Audrey's part. Would you believe it?--she has been the whole afternoon
+at the Gray Cottage helping those children! and Michael has been there,
+too; we met them just now.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt raised his eyebrows; he was evidently surprised at this bit
+of news, though he took it with his usual philosophy.
+
+'Never mind, Jerry,' he said kindly, after a glance at his wife's vexed
+face, 'we cannot always inoculate people with our own common-sense.
+Audrey was always inclined to go her own gait.'
+
+Geraldine blushed; she always did when her husband called her Jerry. Not
+that she minded it from him, but if anyone else--one of the boys, for
+example--were to hear it, the dignified mistress of the house felt she
+would never have got over it. In her unmarried days no one had presumed
+to call her anything but Geraldine or Gage, and yet before three months
+were over her husband had invented this nickname for her.
+
+'It is no use fretting over it,' he went on in the same equable voice;
+'you and Audrey are very different people, my love.'
+
+'Yes; but, Percy dear, it is so trying of Audrey to take up the very
+people that mother and I were so anxious to avoid. I declare I am quite
+sorry for mother; she said, very truly, how is she to keep an intrusive
+person like Mrs. Blake at a distance now Audrey has struck up this
+violent friendship with her? She has even taken Michael there, for of
+course he would never go of his own accord. I am so vexed about it all;
+it has quite spoilt my afternoon.'
+
+'Burnett was on the cricket-field a great part of the afternoon,'
+returned Mr. Harcourt. 'I saw him talking to Charrington and Sayers.'
+
+'Then she must have asked him to fetch her,' replied Geraldine, with an
+air of decision that evidently amused her husband; 'for Michael told us
+of his own accord that he had been having tea at the Cottage. It is
+really very foolish and incautious of Audrey, after Edith's hint, too! I
+wish you would tell her so, Percival, for she only laughs at my advice.'
+
+'And you think she would listen to me?'--still with the same amused curl
+of the lip.
+
+'I think she ought to listen to you, dear--a man of your experience and
+knowledge of the world--if you would give her a little of your mind. It
+is so absurd for a grown-up person to behave like an impulsive child.
+Michael is particular in some things, but he spoils Audrey dreadfully.
+He and father encourage her. It is your duty, Percival, to act a
+brother's part by her, and guide her for her own good.'
+
+Geraldine was evidently in earnest, and Mr. Harcourt forbore to smile as
+he answered her:
+
+'But if she refused to be guided by me, my dear?'
+
+'Oh, I hope better things of Audrey,' replied Geraldine, in such a
+solemn voice that her husband laughed outright, though he drew down her
+face to his the next minute and kissed it.
+
+'You are a good girl to believe in your husband. I don't envy Audrey's
+future spouse; he will have much to bear. Audrey is too philanthropic,
+too unpractical altogether, for a smooth domestic life. We are different
+people, as I said before. Come, cheer up, darling. If I find it possible
+to say a word in season, you may trust me to do so. Ah! there is the
+dressing-bell.'
+
+And Mr. Harcourt rose and stretched himself, and began gathering up his
+papers as a hint to his wife that the subject was concluded.
+
+Audrey was not so unreasonable as her sister supposed; she had no
+intention of placing herself in direct opposition to her family--on the
+contrary, she was somewhat troubled by Geraldine's chilling reception
+that afternoon. Michael had stopped the carriage and informed the two
+ladies of the manner in which he and Audrey had spent their afternoon.
+
+'We have both been having tea at the Gray Cottage,' he said cheerfully.
+'I hope you have spent as pleasant an afternoon, Gage. That
+youngster--Kester they call him--is a bright, intelligent lad, and
+Mollie is a nice child.'
+
+'Oh, indeed!' was Geraldine's reply; 'I am afraid we are late, Michael,
+and must drive on;' and then she nodded to Audrey: but there was no
+pleasant smile on her face.
+
+'Gage is put out with us both,' observed Audrey, as they turned in at
+Woodcote. 'I shall be in for another lecture, Michael.'
+
+Audrey had no wish to be a bugbear to her family. For several reasons
+she thought it politic to avoid the Gray Cottage for a day or two:
+Mollie must not depend on her too much. When her mother and Geraldine
+had called, and Mrs. Blake was on visiting terms with them, things would
+be on a pleasanter footing. She was somewhat surprised, when Sunday
+came, to find Mr. Blake was the sole representative of his family in the
+school chapel. She had looked for the widow and her children in the
+morning, and again in the afternoon, and as she exchanged greetings with
+Cyril in the courtyard after service she could not refrain from
+questioning him on the subject.
+
+'I hope Mrs. Blake has not another headache?' she asked rather abruptly
+as he came up to her, looking very handsome and distinguished in his
+cap and gown--and again Audrey remembered her unlucky speech about the
+Greek god.
+
+Cyril seemed a little embarrassed.
+
+'Oh no, she is quite well, only a little tired; she has rather knocked
+herself up. Kester had a touch of his old pain, so I told him not to
+come.'
+
+'And Mollie?' But Cyril did not appear to hear the question.
+
+'Will you excuse me?' he observed the next moment, rather hurriedly; 'I
+think Mrs. Charrington is waiting for me--she asked me to go to the
+school-house to tea.'
+
+And as he left her, Audrey found herself obliged to join her sister and
+Mrs. Harcourt.
+
+'Have you many people coming to you to-morrow afternoon?' asked
+Geraldine, as they walked on together.
+
+'Only the Luptons and Fortescues and Mr. Owen and Herr Schaffmann--oh,
+and--I forgot, father asked Mr. Blake.'
+
+Audrey spoke a little absently. They were passing the Gray Cottage--a
+blind was just then raised in one of the lower rooms, and a small pale
+face peeped eagerly out at the passers-by. Audrey smiled and waved her
+hand in a friendly manner, and a bright answering smile lighted up the
+girlish face.
+
+'What an untidy-looking child!' remarked Geraldine carelessly; 'is that
+your _protégée_?' and then she continued, in a reproving tone: 'It is
+really disgraceful that none of the family were in chapel. Edith was
+right when she spoke of Mrs. Blake's mismanagement of her children; that
+poor girl had a most neglected look.'
+
+Audrey did not answer; she thought it wiser to allow her sister's remark
+to pass unchallenged; she had a shrewd suspicion why Mollie was not in
+chapel--the shabby, outgrown frock had probably kept her at home.
+
+'Poor little thing!' she thought, with a fresh access of pity, for
+Mollie had certainly looked very forlorn. And then she turned her
+attention with some difficulty to what Geraldine was saying.
+
+Dr. Ross was famed for his hospitality, and both he and his wife loved
+to gather the young people of Rutherford about them.
+
+On Monday afternoons during the summer there was always tennis on the
+Woodcote lawn; one or two of the families from the Hill houses, and
+perhaps a bachelor master or two, made up a couple of sets. The elder
+ladies liked to watch the game or to stroll about the beautiful
+grounds. Mrs. Ross was an excellent hostess; she loved to prepare little
+surprises for her guests--iced drinks or strawberries and cream.
+Geraldine generally presided at her mother's tea-table; Audrey would be
+among the players. Tennis-parties and garden-parties of all kinds were
+common enough in Rutherford, but those at Woodcote certainly carried off
+the palm.
+
+Mr. Harcourt had always been considered one of the best players, but on
+the Monday in question he found himself ranged against no mean
+antagonist, and he was obliged to own that young Blake played superbly.
+
+'You would have won every game this afternoon if you had had a better
+partner,' observed Audrey, as she and Cyril walked across the lawn. She
+had been playing with him the greater part of the afternoon, and had
+been much struck with his quiet and finished style. 'My brother-in-law
+has always been considered our champion player, but you certainly excel
+him.'
+
+'I have had a great deal of practice,' returned Cyril modestly. 'I think
+you are wrong about our respective powers. Mr. Harcourt plays
+exceedingly well; being so much younger, I am a little more agile--that
+is all.'
+
+'Yes; and you would have beaten him this last game, but for me. I have
+played worse than usual this afternoon.'
+
+'You must not expect me to endorse that opinion, Miss Ross. I have never
+seen any lady play half so well. You took that last ball splendidly. Now
+we have exchanged these mutual compliments, may I ask you to show me the
+lake? Kester gave a tremendous description of it when he came home
+to-day. Captain Burnett put him in the punt, and he seems to have had a
+grand time altogether.'
+
+'Oh, I heard all about it at luncheon.'
+
+'It is good of your cousin to take all this trouble,' went on Cyril in a
+lower voice, as they walked down one of the terraces. 'I was quite taken
+aback when he spoke to me yesterday. I thought he could not be in
+earnest. You know he asked me to go up to his private room after
+luncheon, and we had a long talk until it was time to go to chapel.'
+
+'Will it be possible for your brother to come here two or three times a
+week, Mr. Blake?'
+
+'Oh yes; he can manage that short distance--at least, when he is pretty
+well; and the change will be so good for him. It is quite a load off my
+mind to know he will learn mathematics as well as Greek and Latin. You
+have no idea, Miss Ross, how clever that boy is. If he had only my
+opportunities, he would beat me hollow in no time. I tell my mother so,
+but she will not believe it; but she thinks with me that it is awfully
+good of your cousin to interest himself in Kester.'
+
+'It will be a godsend to Michael,' returned Audrey. 'You see, my
+cousin's health is so bad that he cannot employ himself, and he is
+debarred from so much enjoyment. He helps my father a good deal with the
+boys when he is here, but sometimes the noise is too much for him. It
+will suit him far better to study quietly with your brother. Of course,
+he meant to be kind--he is always doing good to someone or other--but
+this time the kindness will benefit himself. He quite enjoyed his
+morning. He told me so in a tone as though he meant it.'
+
+'And Kester looked ever so much brighter. What comfortable quarters
+Captain Burnett has! I had no idea he had a private sitting-room, and he
+tells me he has rooms in town as well.'
+
+'Yes; but we do not let him use them oftener than we can help. It is so
+dull for him to be alone. My father is anxious for him to live
+altogether at Woodcote--he thinks the Rutherford air suits him so much
+better than that of town; but Michael cannot be persuaded to give up his
+rooms. I tell him it is all his pride, and that he wishes to be
+independent of us.'
+
+'He is your father's cousin, you say?'
+
+'Yes; and he is just like his son,' returned Audrey, wondering why Mr.
+Blake looked at her so intently. 'You know, I told you that we looked
+upon Michael as our own brother. Here we are at the pond--or lake, as we
+prefer to call it--and there are the swans, Snowflake and Eiderdown, as
+I have christened them.'
+
+'It is a charming spot,' observed Cyril, leaning over the fence to look
+at the beautiful creatures. He was quite unaware, as he lounged there,
+that he added another picturesque effect to the landscape, his bright
+blue coat and peaked cap making a spot of colour against Audrey's white
+gown. 'So that is the island where Kester found the forget-me-nots for
+Mollie? It looks as though one could carry it off bodily in one's arms,'
+he continued, after a reflective pause.
+
+'Mr. Blake, I will not permit such remarks,' returned Audrey, laughing.
+'I have often paddled myself about the lake. At least, it is deep enough
+to drown one. Now tell me how Mollie is.'
+
+'Mollie is inconsolable because she has not seen you for two whole
+days. She spent most of the morning at the window in the hope of seeing
+you pass.'
+
+'Nonsense!'
+
+'Oh, it is a fact, I assure you. My mother told me so herself. Will
+there be any chance of your looking in to-morrow, Miss Ross? I am going
+back now, and I am sure such a message would make Mollie happy for the
+remainder of the evening.'
+
+Audrey smiled.
+
+'I do not think I will send the message, Mr. Blake. I half thought of
+calling on some friends of mine who live a little way out of Rutherford,
+but if I have time----'
+
+She paused, not quite knowing how to finish her sentence.
+
+'Well, I will say nothing about it,' he returned quickly. 'You have been
+far too good to us already. Mollie must not presume on your kindness;'
+and then he took up his racket.
+
+'Why are you leaving us so early, Mr. Blake? There is surely time for
+another game?'
+
+'Thanks; I must not stop any longer now. My mother asked me to take her
+for a walk, and, as Kester can do without me this evening, I promised
+that I would.'
+
+'And you will take Mollie? There is such a pretty walk across the fields
+to Everdeen Wood, if Mrs. Blake does not mind a few stiles. Mollie will
+not, I am sure.'
+
+'I think Mollie will prefer to stay with Kester,' he replied quickly. 'I
+am sorry to leave so early, Miss Ross, but one does not like to
+disappoint other people.'
+
+'I begin to think you are one of the unselfish ones,' thought Audrey, as
+she gave him her hand. Then aloud: 'You must come to us next Monday, Mr.
+Blake, for I am sure my brother-in-law will want his revenge. Oh, there
+is Booty, so of course his master is not far off. I will go and meet
+him.'
+
+Then she nodded to Cyril, and turned off into a side-path just as
+Captain Burnett came in sight.
+
+'Are they still playing, Michael?'
+
+'No. Harcourt wants to be off; he and Gage are to dine at the
+Fortescues', so they have agreed to break up earlier. Why is Blake
+leaving us so soon? Your father proposed that he should be asked to
+dinner.'
+
+'I don't think he would be persuaded,' she replied, wishing that she had
+not taken him so easily at his word. 'He has promised to take his mother
+for a walk. He is really a very good son. Most young men care only about
+their own pleasure.'
+
+'I think I like him,' returned Michael, in his slow, considering tone.
+'We had a smoke together yesterday up in my room, and I confess he
+interested me. He seems to feel his responsibility so with respect to
+that poor boy. He was very grateful to me for my proposed help, and said
+so in a frank, manly fashion that somehow pleased me.'
+
+'I am so glad you like him, Michael!' and Audrey's tone expressed
+decided pleasure.
+
+'Oh, we shall hit it off very well, I expect; but I daresay we shall not
+see very much of each other. He goes in for cricket, and makes
+tremendous scores, I hear, and the Hill houses will soon monopolise him.
+He is too good-looking a fellow not to be a favourite with the
+ladies--eh, Audrey?'
+
+'I am sure I don't know,' returned Audrey, who could be a trifle dense
+when she chose. 'I do not think Mr. Blake is a lady's man, if that is
+what you mean. Don't you detest the genus, Michael?'
+
+'Do I not!' was the expressive answer; and then he went on: 'I am quite
+of your opinion that Blake is a nice, gentlemanly fellow; but I think
+that brother of his is still more interesting. Poor little chap! he has
+plenty of brains; he is as sharp as some fellows of nineteen or twenty.
+Blake is clever enough, but one of these days Kester will make his mark.
+He has a perfect thirst for knowledge. I drew him out this morning, for
+we only made a pretence at work. You should have heard him talk.'
+
+'That is exactly his brother's opinion,' returned Audrey; and she
+repeated Cyril's words.
+
+Michael was evidently struck by them.
+
+'He seems very fond of him, and, for the matter of that, the poor boy is
+devoted to his brother. I suppose that accident has made a link between
+them. I do not know that I ever took so much interest in your _protégés_
+before. By the bye, what has become of the O'Briens, Audrey?'
+
+'I am going to see them to-morrow. I know what that inquiry means,
+Michael. You think that I am always so much taken up with new people
+that I forget my old friends; but you are wrong.' And then she added, a
+little reproachfully: 'That you of all people should accuse me of
+fickleness!'
+
+Captain Burnett smiled a little gravely.
+
+'You are investing my words with too large a meaning. I do not think you
+in the least fickle; it is only your headlong sympathies that carry you
+away.' But as Audrey looked a little mystified over this speech, he
+continued: 'I would not have you neglect Mr. O'Brien for the world. I
+only wish Vineyard Cottage were a mile or two nearer, and I would often
+smoke a pipe in that earwiggy bower of his. I have a profound respect
+for Thomas O'Brien. I love a man who lives up to his profession, and is
+not above his business. A retired tradesman who tries to forget he was
+ever behind the counter, and who goes through life aping the manners of
+gentlefolk, is a poor sort of body in my eyes; he is neither fish, fowl,
+nor good red herring. Now Mr. O'Brien is as proud of being a
+corn-chandler as'--he paused for a simile--'as our drummer-boy was of
+belonging to the British army.'
+
+'Poor old man! he has seen a peck of trouble, as he calls it.'
+
+'There, you see,' interrupting her delightedly, 'his very language
+borrows its most powerful imagery from his past belongings! Do you or I,
+Audrey, in our wildest and most despairing moments, ever talk of a peck
+of trouble? Depend upon it, my dear, when Thomas made that speech, he
+was among his bins again; in his mind's eye he was measuring out his
+oats and beans. I think I hear him repeating again what he once said to
+me: "It is such a clean, wholesome business, Captain. I often dream I am
+back in the shop again, with my wife laying the tea in the back-parlour.
+I can feel the grain slithering between my fingers, and even the
+dropping of the peas on the counter out of the overfilled bags is as
+plain as possible. Mat always did his work so awkwardly."'
+
+'I don't think he has ever got over the loss of his wife, Michael.'
+
+'Of course not. Is he likely to do so, with Mrs. Baxter's lugubrious
+countenance opposite him morning, noon, and night? I don't wonder her
+husband ran away from her; it would take a deal of principle to put up
+with such a trying woman.'
+
+'Michael, I will not have you so severe on my friends! Mrs. Baxter is a
+very good woman, and she takes great care of her father. We cannot all
+be gifted with good spirits. Poor Priscilla Baxter is a disappointed
+woman.'
+
+Michael shrugged his shoulders, but he was spared making any reply, as
+just then they encountered Geraldine and her husband. They were
+evidently looking for Audrey.
+
+'Are you going, Gage?' observed Audrey serenely. 'I was just coming up
+to the house to wish you good-bye, only Michael detained me.'
+
+'I thought you were with Mr. Blake,' returned her sister, in a puzzled
+tone. 'I wish you would come up to luncheon to-morrow--I have scarcely
+spoken two words to you this afternoon. Edith is coming.'
+
+'It will be a pity to interrupt your _tête-à-tête_,' returned Audrey
+pleasantly; 'Mrs. Bryce has always so much to say, and she comes so
+seldom.' And, as her sister's face clouded, she continued: 'I will run
+up for an hour on Wednesday, but I really cannot neglect Mr. O'Brien any
+longer--he will have been looking for me day after day.'
+
+'Oh, if you are going to Vineyard Cottage,' in a mollified tone that
+Audrey perfectly understood, 'you will have tea there, of course.'
+
+'Do you think Mrs. Baxter would let me come away without my tea?'
+returned Audrey quickly.
+
+She was inwardly somewhat annoyed at this questioning. She had meant to
+go to the Gray Cottage on her way; but now she must give that up: Mollie
+must watch for her a little longer. Perhaps she could go to Hillside in
+the morning and keep her afternoon free. And as she came to this
+conclusion, she bade her sister an affectionate good-bye. But as
+Geraldine took her husband's arm in the steep shrubbery walk, she said,
+in a dissatisfied tone:
+
+'I am glad we found her with Michael; but, all the same, she and Mr.
+Blake were partners all the afternoon.'
+
+'My dear Geraldine,' returned Mr. Harcourt with assumed solemnity, 'I
+think Audrey may be trusted to manage her own little affairs--she is
+two-and-twenty, is she not? When you have daughters of your own, my
+love, I am quite sure you will manage them excellently, and no young man
+will have a chance of speaking to them; but with Audrey it is another
+matter.' And then, in a tragic undertone: 'Have you forgotten, wife
+mine, a certain afternoon when you did me the honour of playing with me
+three whole sets, and then we cooled ourselves down by the lake, until
+your father hunted us out?'
+
+Geraldine pressed her husband's arm gently; she remembered that
+afternoon well, and all Percival had said to her--they had just come to
+an understanding when her father interrupted them. For one moment her
+face softened at the sweet remembrance, and then she roused herself to
+remonstrate.
+
+'But, Percy dear, this is utterly different. Audrey would never dream of
+falling in love with Mr. Blake. Fancy a girl in her position encouraging
+the attentions of a junior master. No, indeed; I was only afraid of a
+little flirtation. Of course Audrey declares she never flirts, but she
+has such a way with her--she is too kind in her manner sometimes.'
+
+'It is to be hoped that she will not break as many hearts as a certain
+young person I know--eh, Jerry?' and Geraldine blushed and held her
+peace.
+
+She never liked to be reminded of the unlucky wooers who had shaken off
+the dust of Woodcote so sorrowfully. As for Mr. Harcourt, he delighted
+in these proofs of conquests. Geraldine had not been easy to win--she
+had given her lover plenty of trouble; but she was his now, and, as he
+often told himself, no man had ever been more fortunate in his choice.
+For Mr. Harcourt, in spite of his delight in teasing, was very deeply in
+love with his beautiful wife.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+MAT
+
+     'Sympathy or no sympathy, a man's love should no more fail towards
+     his fellows than that love which spent itself on disciples who
+     altogether misunderstood it, like the rain which falls on just and
+     unjust alike.'--MARK RUTHERFORD.
+
+
+Vineyard Cottage, where the retired corn-chandler had elected to spend
+the remnant of his days, was no pretentious stucco villa; it was a real
+old-fashioned cottage, with a big roomy porch well covered with
+honeysuckle and sweet yellow jasmine, and a sitting-room on either side
+of the door, with one small-paned window, which was certainly not filled
+with plate-glass. It was a snug, bowery little place, and the fresh
+dimity curtains at the upper windows, and the stand of blossoming plants
+in the little passage, gave it a cheerful and inviting aspect. The tiny
+lawn was smooth as velvet, and a row of tall white lilies, flanked with
+fragrant lavender, filled up the one narrow bed that ran by the side of
+the privet hedge.
+
+As Audrey unlatched the little gate she had a glimpse of Mr. O'Brien in
+his shirt-sleeves. He was smoking in the porch, and so busily engaged in
+reading his paper that Audrey's light tread failed to arouse him, until
+a plaintive and fretful voice from within made him turn his head.
+
+'Father, aren't you ashamed to be sitting there in your shirt-sleeves
+when Miss Ross has come to call? And it is 'most four o'clock,
+too--pretty near about tea-time.'
+
+'Miss Ross--you don't say so, Prissy!' returned Mr. O'Brien, thrusting
+an arm hastily into the coat that his daughter was holding out in an
+aggressively reproachful manner. 'How do you do, Miss Ross? Wait a
+moment--wait a moment, until I can shake hands with you. Now, then, the
+other arm, Prissy. You are as welcome as flowers in May--and as blooming
+too, isn't she, Prissy?' and Mr. O'Brien enforced his compliment with a
+grasp of the hand that made Audrey wince.
+
+'I expected a scolding--I did indeed,' laughed Audrey, 'instead of this
+very kind welcome. It is so long since my last visit; is it not, Mr.
+O'Brien?'
+
+'Well, ma'am, tell the truth and shame the devil; that's my motto. I'll
+not deny that Prissy and I were wondering at your absence. "What's
+become of Miss Ross?" she said to me only to-day at dinner, "for she has
+not been near us for an age."'
+
+'And I was right, father, and it is an age since Miss Ross honoured us
+with a visit,' replied his daughter in the plaintive tone that seemed
+natural to her. 'It was just five weeks ago, for Susan Larkins had come
+up about the bit of washing her mother wished to have, so I remember the
+day well.'
+
+'Five weeks!' responded Audrey with a shake of her head; 'what a memory
+you have, Mrs. Baxter, and, dear me, how ill you are looking; is there
+anything the matter?' looking from one to the other with kindly
+scrutiny.
+
+Mr. O'Brien and his daughter were complete contrasts to each other. He
+was a stout, gray-haired man with a pleasant, genial countenance, though
+it was not without its lines of care. Mrs. Baxter, on the contrary, had
+a long melancholy face and anxious blue eyes. Her black gown clung to
+her thin figure in limp folds; her features were not bad, and a little
+liveliness and expression would have made her a good-looking woman; but
+her dejected air and want of colouring detracted from her comeliness,
+and of late years her voice had grown peevish as well as plaintive, as
+though her troubles had been too heavy for her. Audrey had a sincere
+respect for her; but she certainly wished that Mrs. Baxter took a less
+lugubrious view of life. At times she would try to infuse a little of
+her own cheerfulness; but she soon found that Mrs. Baxter was too
+closely wrapped in her melancholy. In her own language, she preferred
+the house of mourning to the house of feasting.
+
+'Oh, I hope there is nothing fresh the matter!' repeated Audrey, whose
+clear-sighted sympathy was never at fault.
+
+She thought that Mr. O'Brien's genial face looked a shade graver than
+usual.
+
+'Come and sit down, Miss Ross, and I will be hurrying the girl with the
+tea,' observed Mrs. Baxter mournfully, for she was never too lachrymose
+to be hospitable, and though she shed tears on slight occasions, she was
+always disposed to press her hot buttered cakes on her guests, and any
+refusal to taste her good cheer would have grievously wounded her
+bruised sensibilities. 'Father, take Miss Ross into the best parlour
+while I help Hannah a bit.'
+
+And as Mr. O'Brien laid aside his pipe and led the way into the house,
+Audrey followed him, nothing loath.
+
+'Joe's been troubling Priscilla again,' he observed, as Audrey seated
+herself on the little horsehair sofa beside the open window, and Buff, a
+great tortoise-shell cat, jumped uninvited on her lap and began purring
+loudly.
+
+'Joe!' repeated Audrey in a shocked voice; she knew very well who was
+meant. Joe was the ne'er-do-well of a son-in-law whose iniquities had
+transformed the young and comely Priscilla into the meagre and
+colourless Mrs. Baxter. 'He has no right to trouble her!' she went on
+indignantly.
+
+'He has been worrying for money again,' returned Mr. O'Brien, ruffling
+up his gray hair in a discontented fashion; 'he says he is hard up. But
+that is only one of Joe's lies; he tells lies by the peck. He had a good
+coat on, and looked as thriving as possible, and I know from Atkinson,
+who has been in Leeds, that he is a traveller to some house in the wine
+trade. And yet he comes here, the bullying rascal! fretting the poor
+lass to skin and bone with pretending he can take the law of her for not
+living with him, and that after all his ill-usage.'
+
+'I am so sorry,' returned Audrey, and her tone said more than her words.
+'He is a bad man, a thoroughly heartless and bad man--everyone knows
+that; and she must never go back to him. I hope you told him so.'
+
+'Ay, I did,' with a touch of gruffness; 'I found him bullying, and poor
+Prissy crying her eyes out, and looking ready to drop--for she is afraid
+of him--and I just took down my big stick. "Joe," I said, as he began
+blustering about her being his true and lawful wife, "you just drop that
+and listen to me: if she is your wife, she is my daughter, our only
+one--for never chick nor child had we beside Priscilla--and she is going
+to stop along with me, law or no law."
+
+'"I'll claim my own. There's two to that bargain, father-in-law," he
+says, with a sneer; for, you see, he was turning a bit nasty.
+
+'"And you'll claim something else as well, son-in-law!" I replied,
+getting a good grip of the stick; for my blood was up, and I would have
+felled him to the ground with all the pleasure in life, only the girl
+got between us.
+
+'"No, father--no violence!" she screeches out. "Don't make things worse
+for poor, unhappy me. Joe is not worth your getting into trouble on his
+account. Go along with you, Joe, and Heaven forgive you; but horses
+wouldn't drag me under your roof again after the way you have treated
+me."
+
+'Well, I suppose we made it too hot for him, ma'am, for he soon beat a
+retreat. Joe was always a coward. I would have hurried him out with a
+kick, but I thought it better to be prudent; and Priscilla went and had
+a fit of hysterics in her own room, and she has been looking mortal bad,
+poor lass! ever since.'
+
+'I wish we could save her these trying scenes, Mr. O'Brien; they get on
+her nerves.'
+
+'Ah, that is what her mother said! "Prissy will never have a day's
+health if we can't hinder Joe from coming to plague her"--I remember my
+Susan saying that. Why, it was half for Prissy's sake we gave up the
+shop. "What is the good of filling our purse, Tom, when we have plenty
+for ourselves and Priscilla!" she was always saying to me. But there, I
+was fond of the shop--it is no use denying it--and it takes a special
+sort of education to fit one for idleness. Even now--would you believe
+it, ma'am?--I have a sort of longing to finger the oats and peas again.'
+
+'But you are very fond of your cottage and your garden, Mr. O'Brien.
+Captain Burnett says it is the prettiest little place about here.'
+
+'Ah, I have been forgetting my manners, and I have never asked after the
+Captain, though he is a prime favourite of mine. Oh yes, he always has
+his little joke. "What will you sell it for, O'Brien, just as it stands?
+Name your own price." Well, it is a snug little place; and if only my
+little woman were here and I had news of Mat----' And here Mr. O'Brien
+pushed his hand through his gray hair again, and sighed as he looked out
+on his row of lilies.
+
+Audrey sat still in sympathising silence. She knew how her old friend
+loved to unburden himself. He talked to no one else as he did to this
+girl--not even to the Captain. He liked to enlarge in his simple way on
+his old happy life, when Prissy was young and he and his wife thought
+handsome Joe Baxter a grand lover for their girl, with his fine figure
+and soft, wheedling tongue.
+
+'But we were old enough to know better--we were a couple of fools, of
+course; I know that now,' he would say. 'But he just talked us over--Joe
+is a rare hand at talking even now. He can use fine words; he has
+learnt it in his business. I think our worst time was when Prissy's baby
+died and she began to droop, and in her weakness she let it all out to
+her mother. I remember my little woman coming into the shop that day,
+with the tears running down her face. "Tom," she says, "what have we
+ever done to be so punished? Joe is treating Prissy like a brute, and my
+poor girl's heart is broken." Dear, dear! how I wanted Mat then!'
+
+Audrey knew all about this Mat--at least, the little there was to know.
+One day, soon after Mr. O'Brien had lost his wife, and she had found him
+sitting alone in the porch, he had begun talking to her of his own
+accord of a young brother whom he called Mat, but to no one else had he
+ever mentioned his name. Audrey had been much touched and surprised by
+this confidence, and from time to time Mr. O'Brien had continued to
+speak of him, until she was in possession of the main facts.
+
+Thomas O'Brien had lost his parents early, and his brothers and sisters
+had died in infancy, with the exception of the youngest, Matthew, or
+Mat, as he was generally called. There was so much difference between
+their ages that Mat was quite a plaything and pet to his elder brother.
+From all accounts, he was a bright, engaging little fellow, and
+developed unusual capacity.
+
+'He was a cut above us, and people took notice of him, and that spoiled
+him,' observed Mr. O'Brien one day.
+
+Audrey, piecing the fragments of conversation together, could picture
+the clever, handsome lad learning his lessons in the little back
+parlour, while honest Tom served in the shop. But Mat was not always so
+studious: he would be sliding with the Rector's boys, or helping them to
+make a snow man; sometimes he would be having tea at the Rectory, or
+with his master, or even with the curates. One of the curates was
+musical, and Mat had an angelic voice. One could imagine the danger to
+the precocious, clever boy, and how perhaps, on his return, he would
+gibe a little in his impertinent boyish fashion at thickheaded, clumsy
+Tom among his cornbins and sacks of split peas.
+
+Mat did not wish to be a corn-chandler. When Tom married the daughter of
+a neighbouring baker, Mat was heard to mutter to one of his intimates
+that Tom might have looked higher for a wife. He grew a little
+discontented after that, and gave the young couple plenty of trouble
+until he got his way--a bad way, too--and went off to seek his fortunes
+in London.
+
+Tom missed the lad sadly; even his Susan's rosy cheeks and good-humour
+failed to console him for a while. Not until Prissy made her
+appearance--and in clamorous baby fashion wheedled her way into her
+father's affections--did his sore heart cease to regret the young
+brother.
+
+Susan used to talk to her husband in her sensible way.
+
+'It is no use your fretting, Tom,' she would say; 'boys will be boys,
+and anything is better for Mat than hanging about here with his hands in
+his pockets and doing nothing but gossip with the customers. He was
+growing into idle ways. It was a shame for a big fellow like Mat to be
+living upon his brother; it is far better for him to be thrown on
+himself to work for his bread,' finished Susan, rocking her baby, for
+she was a shrewd little person in her way.
+
+'I don't like to think of Mat alone in London,' returned Tom slowly; but
+as he looked into his wife's innocent eyes he forbore to utter all his
+thoughts aloud. Tom was old enough to know something of the world; he
+could guess at the pitfalls that stretched before the lad's unwary feet.
+Mat was young, barely eighteen, his very gifts of beauty and cleverness
+might lead him into trouble.
+
+'I wish I had him here,' muttered Tom, as he went off to serve a
+customer. 'Peterborough is a better place for him than London;' for they
+were living at Peterborough then.
+
+Tom cheered up presently, when Mat wrote one of his flourishing letters;
+he was a fine letter-writer. He was in luck's way, he told Tom, and had
+fallen on his feet; at his first application he had obtained a clerkship
+in some business house, and his employer had taken a fancy to him.
+
+'I feel like Dick Whittington,' wrote Mat, in his happy, boastful way;
+'all night long the bells were saying to me, "Turn again, turn again,
+Mat O'Brien, for fortune is before you." I could hear them in my
+dreams--and then the next morning came a letter from Mr. Turner. Dear
+old chap, you won't bother about me any more, for I mean to stick to my
+work like a galley slave. Give my love to Susan, and kiss the little
+one--couldn't you have found a better name than that Puritan Priscilla,
+you foolish Tom?'--and so on. Audrey once read that letter, and a dozen
+more of the same type; she thought them very affectionate and clever.
+Every now and then there were graphic descriptions of a day's amusement
+or sight-seeing. What was it they lacked? Audrey could never answer
+that question, but she laid them down with a dim feeling of
+dissatisfaction.
+
+Mat used to run down for a day or two when business permitted, and take
+possession of his shabby little room under the roof. How happy honest
+Tom would be on these occasions! how he would chuckle to himself as he
+saw his customers--female customers especially--cast sidelong glances at
+the handsome dark-haired youth who lounged by the door!
+
+'Old Mrs. Stevenson took him for a gentleman,' Tom remarked to Susan
+once, rubbing his hands over the joke. 'Mat is so well set up, and wears
+such a good coat; just look at his boots!--and his shirts are ever so
+much finer than mine; he looks like a young lord in his Sunday best,'
+went on Tom, who admired his young brother with every fibre of his
+heart.
+
+Mat was quite aware of the sensation he made among his old friends and
+neighbours; he liked to feel his own importance. He came pretty
+frequently at first; he was tolerant of Susan's homeliness and sisterly
+advice, he took kindly to Prissy, and brought her a fine coral necklace
+to wear on her fat dimpled neck; but after a year or two he came less
+often.
+
+'Leave him alone,' Susan would say when Tom grumbled to her over his
+pipe of an evening; 'Mat has grown too fine for the shop; nothing
+pleased him last time. He wanted napkins with his food because of his
+moustache, and he complained that his bed was so hard he could not sleep
+on it. It is easy to see that our homely ways do not suit him. I wish
+your heart were not set on him so much, Tom; it is thankless work to
+cling to a person who wants to get rid of his belongings.'
+
+'Nay, Susan, you are too hard on the lad,' her husband remonstrated;
+'Mat will never cut us--he has an affectionate heart. He is only having
+his fling, as lads, even the best of them, will at times. By and by he
+will settle down, and then we shall see more of him.'
+
+But in spite of Tom's faith, that time never came. By and by Mat wrote
+with a greater flourish than ever.
+
+'Wish me joy, my dear Susan and Tom,' he wrote, 'for I am going to be
+married, and to the prettiest and the dearest girl in the world. Just
+fancy, Tom, her uncle is a Dean! what do you think of your brother Mat
+now? "Turn again, turn again, Mat O'Brien"--that is what the bells said
+to me, and, by Jove! they were right. Haven't I had a rise this
+Christmas?--and now my dear little Olive has promised to take me for
+better or worse. Oh, Tom, you should just see her--she is such a
+darling! and I am the luckiest fellow in the world to get her! I can see
+Susan shaking her head and saying in her wise way that I am young to
+take the cares of life on my shoulders; but when a fellow is head over
+heels in love, he cannot stop to balance arguments. And after all, we
+are not so imprudent, for when the Dean dies, and he is an old man,
+Olive will have a pretty penny of her own. So wish me joy, dear Tom, and
+send me your blessing.'
+
+Tom fairly wept over this letter; he carried it about with him and read
+it at intervals during the day.
+
+'If only she makes the lad happy!' he said to Susan. 'To think of our
+Mat marrying a gentlewoman, for of course a Dean's niece is that;' and
+Susan, whose knowledge of the world was small, supposed so too.
+
+Tom was hoping that Mat would bring his young wife down to receive his
+brotherly congratulations in person; but there was always some excuse
+for the delay. Olive was delicate; she could not travel; Mat could not
+leave her to come himself, and so on. Tom never doubted these excuses;
+he even made his little joke about the lad becoming a family man; but
+Susan, who was sharper than her husband, read between the lines. Mat was
+ashamed of bringing the Dean's niece down to see the shop; it was
+possible, but here Susan almost shuddered at the awfulness of the
+thought, that he might not have told his wife that he had a brother.
+
+'Mat is as weak as water, with all his cleverness,' she said to herself;
+'if he has not told her yet, he will put it off from day to day. There
+is nothing easier than procrastination if you once give in to it. Few
+people speak the truth like my Tom, bless him!'
+
+Susan would not grieve her husband by hinting at these suspicions,
+though they grew stronger as time went on. Mat never brought his wife to
+see them; he seldom wrote, unless to tell them of the birth of a child,
+and then his letters were brief and unsatisfactory. Tom once wrote and
+asked him if he were happy, 'for somehow Susan and I have got into our
+heads that things are not quite square,' wrote the simple fellow. 'Do
+come and let us have a chat together over our pipes. Prissy is getting
+quite a big girl; you would hardly know her now.'
+
+Perhaps Mat was touched by this persistent kindness on his brother's
+part, for he answered that letter by return of post.
+
+'One must not expect too much happiness in this crooked old world,' he
+wrote; 'but you and Susan are such old-fashioned people. Olive and I
+have as much enjoyment of life as ordinary folk. We quarrel sometimes
+and make it up again. I was never a very patient mortal--eh, old
+chap?--and one's temper does not improve with age.' And then after a
+little talk about the children, who had been ill with scarlatina, the
+letter wound up by begging the loan of a five-pound note.
+
+Tom did not show this letter to Susan. For the first time in his life he
+kept a secret from the wife of his bosom. He put two five-pound notes in
+an envelope, and sent them with his love to Olive and the children. A
+pang of remorse must have crossed Mat's heart at this fresh act of
+kindness; but though he acknowledged the gift with the utmost gratitude,
+he neither came nor wrote again for a long time.
+
+Some time after that Tom took an odd notion in his head: he would go up
+to London and see Mat and his wife and children; he was just hankering
+for a sight of the lad, as he told Susan. To be sure, Mat had never
+invited him--never hinted at such a thing in his letters; he could not
+be sure of his welcome. Susan tried to dissuade him, but to no purpose;
+for once Tom was deaf to his little woman's advice. He left her in
+charge of the shop one fine spring morning and started for London and
+Bayswater, where Mat lived.
+
+He came back earlier than Susan expected, and there was a sad look in
+his eyes as he sat down and filled his pipe. Susan forbore to question
+him at first; she got him some supper and a jug of the best ale, and
+presently he began to talk of his own accord:
+
+'There were other people living in No. 23 Mortimer Terrace. The O'Briens
+had left more than a year ago, and no one knew where they were. Fancy
+Mat leaving and never giving me his address!' finished Tom with an air
+of deep depression.
+
+He was evidently much wounded at this want of brotherly confidence.
+
+'But surely you know his business address, dear?' Susan asked quietly.
+
+No; Tom did not know even that. He reminded her that Mat had long ago
+left his old employers, and had set up for himself; but Tom did not know
+where his office was.
+
+'I always wrote to his private address, you know, Susan,' he went on.
+'Mat told me that no one ever opened his letters but himself; but how
+am I to find him out now if he chooses to hide himself from his only
+brother?'
+
+And though Tom said no more, he moped for many a day after that
+fruitless expedition.
+
+By and by the truth leaked out--Mat was in trouble, and in such trouble
+that no fraternal help could avail him. One awful day, a day that turned
+Tom's hair gray with horror and anguish, he heard that Mat--handsome,
+brilliant Mat--was in a felon's cell, condemned to penal servitude for a
+long term of years. In a moment of despair he had forged the name of one
+of his so-called friends, and by this terrible act had obtained
+possession of a large sum of money.
+
+Tom's anguish at this news was not to be described; he cried like a
+child, and Susan vainly tried to comfort him.
+
+'My father's name,' he kept repeating--'he has disgraced our honest
+name! I will never forgive him; I will have nothing more to do with
+him--he has covered us all with shame!'
+
+And then the next moment he relented at the thought of Mat, beaten down
+and miserable, and perhaps repentant, in his wretched cell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+PRISCILLA BAXTER
+
+     'How many people are busy in this world in gathering together a
+     handful of thorns to sit upon!'--JEREMY TAYLOR.
+
+
+Audrey never forgot the day when she first heard this sad story. It was
+on a winter's afternoon, and she and Mr. O'Brien were alone in the
+cottage. She remembered how the setting sun threw ruddy streaks across
+the snow, and how the light of the fire beside which they sat later on
+in the twilight illumined the low room and flashed out on the privet
+hedge, now a mass of sparkling icicles. She and Geraldine had driven
+into Brail, and by and by the carriage was coming back to fetch her.
+
+They had been talking of Mat, and Mr. O'Brien had shown her some of his
+letters; and then, all at once, his face had grown very white and
+troubled, and in a few husky sentences he had told her the rest of the
+story; and as Audrey listened there was a gleam of a teardrop on her
+long lashes.
+
+'But you went to see him--surely you went to see him?' she asked
+tremulously, as he came to a sudden pause; but he shook his gray head
+very sorrowfully.
+
+'I would have gone, ay, willingly, when my anger had burnt out a bit. I
+just hungered to see the poor lad--he was still a lad to me--and to
+shake him by the hand; for all he had done, he was still Mat, you see;
+but he would not let me: he begged and prayed of me not to come.'
+
+'Ah, that was cruel!'
+
+'Nay, he meant no unkindness; but he was pretty nearly crazed, poor
+chap! I have the letter now that he wrote to me; the chaplain sent it,
+but no eye but mine must ever see it. I have written it down in my will
+that it is to be buried with me: "Don't come unless you wish me to do
+something desperate, Tom; I think if I saw your honest face in my cell
+I should just make away with myself. No, no, dear old chap; let me dree
+my weird, as Susan used to say. I have shamed you all, and my heart is
+broken; try to forget that you ever had a brother Mat." Eh, they were
+desperate words for a man to write; but I do not doubt that he meant
+them.'
+
+'Did he mention his wife and children?'
+
+'No, never a word of them. I wrote to him more than once, but he never
+answered me. He was such a long way off, you see; they send them to
+Dartmoor now. As far as I know, Mat may be dead and buried. Well, it is
+hard lines, and I have known a peck of troubles in my time. There, you
+know it all, Miss Ross; it beats me why I've told you, for no one in the
+world knows it but Prissy--you have drawn it out of me somehow; you've
+got a hearty way with you that reminds me of my Susan, and I never had
+but that one secret from her--when I sent Mat the two five-pound notes.'
+
+'Your story is safe with me, my dear old friend,' returned Audrey,
+laying her hand on his arm; 'you must never regret telling me. I have
+heard so many sad histories--people always tell me their troubles; they
+know they can trust me. I am fond of talking,' went on Audrey, in her
+earnest way, 'but I have never betrayed a person's confidence; I have
+never once repeated anything that my friends have told me--their
+troubles are as sacred to me as my own would be.'
+
+'I am bound to believe you,' returned Mr. O'Brien, looking thoughtfully
+at the girlish face and steadfast eyes; 'Prissy says it always gives her
+a comfortable feeling to talk out her troubles to you. It is a gift, I
+am thinking; but you are young to have it. Did I ever tell you, Miss
+Ross, what Susan said to me when she was dying?'
+
+'No, I am sure you never told me that.'
+
+'Well, Prissy had gone to lie down, and I was alone with Susan. It was
+the room above us where she died. I was sitting by the fire, thinking
+she was having a fine sleep, and would surely be better for it, when she
+suddenly spoke my name: "Tom," she said, "I know just what you are
+thinking about: you have got Mat in your mind." Well, I could not deny
+that, and Susan was always so sharp in finding me out; and then she
+begged me to sit by her a bit: "For you are very low about everything,
+dear Tom," she went on; "you've got to lose me, and there's Prissy, poor
+girl! with her bad husband; and when you have nothing better to do you
+think about Mat. Sometimes I wish you were back in the shop, when I see
+you looking at the fire in that way."
+
+"I was only wondering whether I should ever see the poor lad again," I
+returned, with a sigh; "that was all my thought, Susan."
+
+"I am sure you will see him again," she replied very earnestly, with a
+kind of solemnity in her voice; "I don't know why I think so, Tom, but
+they say the dying are very clear-sighted, and it is strong upon me that
+Mat will one day seek you out." Now, wasn't that strange, Miss Ross?'
+
+'No,' replied Audrey, 'she may have spoken the truth; while there is
+life there is hope. Do not be disheartened, my dear friend; you have had
+great troubles, but God has helped you to bear them, and you are not
+without your blessings.'
+
+'That's true,' he returned, looking round him; 'I would sooner live in
+this cottage than in a palace. I don't believe, as the Captain says,
+there is a prettier place anywhere. I like to think Susan lies so near
+me, in Brail Churchyard, and that by and by I'll lie beside her; and if
+I could only see my girl more cheerful----'
+
+'Oh, you must give her time to live down her worries. There! I hear the
+carriage;' and Audrey went in search of her fur-lined cloak.
+
+This conversation had taken place about eighteen months ago, and though
+Audrey had never alluded to it of her own accord, it touched her greatly
+to notice how, when he was alone with her, Mr. O'Brien would drop a few
+words which showed how clearly he remembered it.
+
+'There is no one else to whom I can speak of Mat,' he said one day;
+'Prissy never cared much about him--I think she dislikes the subject; as
+sure as ever I mention Mat she cries and begins to talk of Joe.'
+
+Audrey was not at all surprised when Mr. O'Brien made that allusion as
+she was stroking the tortoise-shell cat in the sunshine. She could hear
+Mrs. Baxter laying the tea-things in the other parlour, where they
+generally sat, and the smell of the hot cakes and fragrant new bread
+reached them. The cuckoo's note was distinctly audible in the distance;
+a brown bee had buried himself in the calyx of one of the lilies; and
+some white butterflies were skimming over the flower-beds. The sweet
+stillness of the summer afternoon seemed to lull her into a reverie; how
+impossible it was to realise sin and sorrow and broken hearts and the
+great hungry needs of humanity, when the sky was so blue and cloudless,
+and the insects were humming in the fulness of their tiny joy! 'Will
+sorrow ever come to me?' thought the girl dreamily; 'of course, I know
+it must some day; but it seems so strange to think of a time when I
+shall be no longer young and strong and full of joy.' And then a wave of
+pity swept over her soft heart as she noticed the wrinkles in her old
+friend's face. 'I wish Mrs. Baxter were more cheerful,' she said
+inwardly; 'she has depressed him, and he has been missing me all these
+weeks.'
+
+Audrey tried to be very good to him as they sat together for the next
+half-hour. She told him the Rutherford news, and then asked him all
+manner of questions. Audrey was a hypocrite in her innocent fashion; she
+could not really have been so anxious to know how the strawberries and
+peas were doing in the little kitchen garden behind the cottage, and if
+the speckled hen were sitting, or if Hannah, the new girl, were likely
+to satisfy Mrs. Baxter. And yet all these questions were put, as though
+everything depended on the answers. 'For you know, Mr. O'Brien,' she
+went on very seriously, 'Ralph declares that we shall have very little
+fruit this season--those tiresome winds have stripped the
+apple-trees--and for some reason or other we have never had such a poor
+show of gooseberries.'
+
+'The potatoes are doing finely, though,' returned Mr. O'Brien, who had
+risen to the bait; 'after tea I hope you will walk round the garden with
+me, ma'am, and you will be surprised to see the way some of the things
+have improved.'
+
+'Tea is ready, father,' observed Mrs. Baxter at this point. 'Miss Ross,
+will you take that chair by the window? you will feel the air there. I
+am going to ask a blessing, father: "For what we are going to receive
+the Lord make us truly thankful." Yes, Miss Ross, those are your
+favourite scones, and Hannah is baking some more; there's plum preserve
+and lemon marmalade and home-made seed-cake.' And Mrs. Baxter pressed
+one viand after another upon her guest, before she could turn her
+attention to the teapot, which was at present enveloped in a huge
+braided cosy.
+
+'Dear me! I shall never be able to eat my dinner, Mrs. Baxter, and then
+mother will be miserable; you have no idea the fuss she makes if I ever
+say I am not hungry.'
+
+'She is perfectly right, Miss Ross,' was the mournful answer; 'there is
+no blessing to equal good health, and health mainly depends on appetite.
+Where would father and I have been if we had not kept our health? It is
+a wonderful blessing, is it not, father, that I have been so strong? or
+I should have sunk long ago. But, as poor dear mother used to say, there
+is no blessing like a good constitution.'
+
+Everyone has his or her style of conversation, just as all authors have
+their own peculiar style of writing. Mrs. Baxter, for example, delighted
+in iteration; she had a habit of taking a particular word and working it
+to death. Michael was the first person to notice this little
+peculiarity. After his first visit to Vineyard Cottage, as he was
+driving Audrey home in the dog-cart, he said to her:
+
+'Did you notice how often Mrs. Baxter used the same word? I am sure she
+said "trouble" fifty times, if she said it once. She is not a
+bad-looking young woman, but she is a painfully monotonous talker. I
+should say she is totally devoid of originality.'
+
+'I know nothing about health, Mrs. Baxter,' returned Audrey with
+aggressive cheerfulness. 'I am always so well, you see. I never had the
+doctor in my life, except when I had the measles.'
+
+'And the whooping-cough, Miss Ross. Don't say you have not had the
+whooping-cough!'
+
+'Oh yes; when I was a baby. But I hope you do not expect me to remember
+that.'
+
+'I am glad to hear it, I am sure, for you gave me quite a turn. There is
+nothing worse than having the whooping-cough late in life--it is quite
+ruinous to the constitution. You know that, don't you, father?--for
+great-aunt Saunders never got rid of it winter and summer. She had a
+good constitution, too; never ailed much, and brought up a large
+family--though most of them died before her: they had not her
+constitution, had they, father? Great-aunt Saunders was a stout-built
+sort of woman; but with all her good constitution and regular living she
+never got rid of the whooping-cough.'
+
+'Shall I give you a slice of this excellent cake?' asked Audrey
+politely, and with a laudable desire to hear no more of great-aunt
+Saunders' good constitution, and, to change the subject, she begged for
+a recipe of the seed-cake for her mother.
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked almost happy as she gave it. She was an excellent
+cook, and her light hand for cakes and pastry, her delicious scones and
+crisp short-cake, must have been remembered with regret by the recusant
+Joe, and may have had something to do with his anxious claims. Mrs.
+Baxter forgot her beloved iteration; her monotonous voice roused into
+positive animation as she verbally weighed out quantities.
+
+'A great deal depends on the oven, Miss Ross, as I tell Hannah. Many and
+many a well-mixed cake has been spoiled by the baking; you may use the
+best of materials, but if the oven is over-hot----' and so on, to all of
+which Audrey listened with that pleased air of intelligent interest
+which once made Michael call her 'the most consummate little hypocrite
+on the face of the earth.'
+
+'For you were not a bit interested in listening to old Dr. Sullivan's
+account of those beetles,' he said on that occasion. 'You know nothing
+about beetles, Audrey. I saw you once yawning behind your hand--which
+was positively rude--and yet there you were making big eyes at the dear
+old man, and hanging on his words as though they were diamonds and
+pearls.'
+
+'You are too hard on me, Michael,' returned Audrey, who was a little
+hurt at this accusation. She rarely quarrelled with Michael, but now and
+then his keen man's wit was too much for her. 'I was very much
+interested in what Dr. Sullivan was saying, although I certainly do not
+understand the habits of beetles, any more than I understand the Greek
+literature about which you are pleased to talk to me,' in a pointed
+tone. 'And if I yawned'--speaking still in an injured voice--'it was
+because I had been up half the night with poor little Patience
+Atkinson--and I don't like you to call me a hypocrite, when I only meant
+to be kind,' finished Audrey, defending herself bravely in spite of an
+inward qualm that told her that perhaps Michael was right.
+
+Michael looked at her with one of his rare smiles; he saw the girl was a
+little sore.
+
+'My dear,' he said, taking her hand, 'don't be vexed with me. You know
+we always speak the truth to each other. You must not mind my little
+joke. After all, your friends love you the better for your innocent
+hypocrisy. We all pretend a little; conventionality demands it. Which of
+us would have the courage to say to any man, "My good friend, do hold
+your tongue--you are simply boring me with these everlasting stories"?'
+
+'But, Michael,' persisted Audrey, for she wanted to make this thing very
+clear to herself as well as to him, 'I think you are wrong in one thing:
+I am really very seldom bored, as you call it. Even if I do not
+understand things--if they are not particularly interesting--it pleases
+me to listen to people. Old Dr. Sullivan did look so happy with that row
+of nasty little beetles before him, that I was quite pleased to watch
+him. You know people always talk so well on a subject that interests
+them.'
+
+'I know one thing--that there are very few people in the world so
+amiable as a certain young lady of my acquaintance. The world would be a
+better place to live in if there were more like her----' But here he
+checked himself, for he had long ago learnt the useful lesson that
+speech is silvern and silence is golden, and that over-much praise
+seldom benefited anyone.
+
+When tea was over, Audrey accompanied Mr. O'Brien round his small
+domain, while he proudly commented on the flourishing state of his fruit
+and vegetables. Before she left the cottage she contrived to exchange a
+few words with Mrs. Baxter, who had remained in the house, and whom she
+found in the tiny kitchen washing up the best cups and saucers.
+
+'Girls are mostly careless, Miss Ross,' she explained in an apologetic
+manner; 'and Hannah is no better than the rest, so I always wash up
+mother's china myself. It would worry me more than I am already if a cup
+were to be broken.'
+
+'I am so sorry to hear your husband has been troubling you again, Mrs.
+Baxter.'
+
+'Yes, indeed, Miss Ross, and it is a crying shame for Joe to persecute
+me as he does. Sometimes I feel I must just run away and hide myself,
+his visits put me into such a nervous state. It is so bad for father,
+too. He is not as young as he used to be, and since mother's death there
+has been a great change in him. Last time Joe came he put himself out
+terribly, and was for taking the stick to him. I was all in a tremble--I
+was indeed, Miss Ross--for Joe had been drinking, and father's a
+powerful man, and there might have been mischief.'
+
+'I think your husband must be made to understand that he is to leave you
+alone.'
+
+'Oh, you don't know what men are, Miss Ross. They are over-fond of their
+own way. Joe does not find things comfortable without me, and then he is
+always so greedy for money. The ways of Providence are very dark and
+mysterious. When I married Joe I expected as much happiness as other
+women. He was so pleasant-spoken, had such a way with him, that even
+father and mother were deceived in him; he never took anything but his
+tankard of home-brewed ale at our place, and he was so trim and so well
+set up that all the girls were envying me. But the day I wore my gray
+silk dress to go with him to church was the most unfortunate day of my
+life. Mother would far better have laid me in my shroud,' finished Mrs.
+Baxter, with a homely tragedy that was impressive enough in its way.
+
+'Oh, you must not say that,' returned Audrey hastily. 'Life will not
+always be so hard, I hope;' and then she shook hands with the poor
+woman.
+
+Audrey enjoyed her walk back. It was a delicious evening, and the birds
+were singing from every brake and hedgerow. Once or twice she heard the
+harsh call of the corncrake mingled with the flute-like notes of the
+thrush; a lark was carolling high up in the blue sky--by and by she
+heard him descend. Audrey walked swiftly down the long grass lanes, and,
+as she neared Rutherford she could see a dim man's figure in the
+distance. Of course it was Michael coming to meet her, attended by his
+faithful Booty. Audrey smiled and quickened her pace. She was quite used
+to these small attentions, this brotherly surveillance on Michael's
+part--she was never surprised to find him at some unexpected point
+waiting patiently for her.
+
+'Am I late?' she asked hastily, as he rose from the stile and slipped
+his book in his pocket. 'I have had such a nice afternoon. They were so
+pleased to see me, and made so much of me;' then, with a quick change of
+tone, 'You have walked too far to meet me, Michael--you are looking
+paler than usual this evening!'
+
+'Nonsense,' he returned good-humouredly; 'I am all right. Was Mrs.
+Baxter as mournful as usual?' To which question Audrey returned a full
+explanatory answer.
+
+Michael listened with his usual interest, but he made few comments.
+Perhaps his mind was on other things, for when she had finished he said
+somewhat irrelevantly:
+
+'You are right, Audrey--Mrs. Blake is certainly a very pretty woman.'
+
+In a moment Vineyard Cottage, Mr. O'Brien, and the mournful Priscilla
+vanished from Audrey's mind.
+
+'Oh, Michael! have you really seen her?' she asked breathlessly.
+
+'Well, I am not sure,' was the somewhat provoking answer. 'You were not
+there to introduce us, you know, and of course I could not swear that it
+was Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'Dear me, how slow you are, Michael!' for he was speaking in a drawling
+manner. 'Why can't you tell me all about it in a sensible way?'
+
+'Because there is not much to tell,' he returned calmly. 'I was just
+passing the Gray Cottage, when a lady in black came out of the gate. I
+was so close that I had to draw back to let her pass, and of course I
+just lifted my hat; and she bowed and gave me the sweetest smile--it
+haunts me now,' murmured Captain Burnett in a sort of audible aside.
+
+'A lady in black coming out of the Gray Cottage?--of course it was Mrs.
+Blake, you foolish fellow!'
+
+'You think so?' rather sleepily. 'Well, perhaps you are right. I
+certainly heard a window open, and a girl's voice called out, "Mamma,
+will you come back a moment? You have forgotten your sunshade." And the
+lady in black said, "Oh, how stupid of me, Mollie!" and then she whisked
+through the gate again.'
+
+'Did you stand still in the middle of the road to hear all this,
+Michael?'
+
+'No, my dear. There was something wrong with the lock of the
+school-house gate. It is sometimes a little difficult--I must tell
+Sayers it wants oiling.' Michael's face was inimitable as he made this
+remark.
+
+'And so you saw her come out again. Oh, you deep, good-for-nothing
+Michael!'
+
+'I saw her come out again, and she had the sunshade. She walks well,
+Audrey, and she has a pretty, graceful figure--and as for her face----'
+
+'Well!' impatiently.
+
+'I think I will keep that to myself,' he replied with a wicked smile.
+'Do you fancy we could coax Cousin Emmeline to call soon? I begin to
+feel anxious to enlarge my stock of acquaintance, and you must allow
+that a bewitching widow is rather alluring----' He paused.
+
+'Michael,' giving his arm a little jerk, 'a joke is a joke; but, mind, I
+will not have you falling in love with Mrs. Blake. Dear me! what would
+Gage say?'
+
+And at this Michael laughed, and Audrey laughed too--though just for the
+moment she did feel a wee bit uncomfortable, for even the notion of
+Michael falling in love with any woman was not quite pleasant.
+
+'Really, Michael, we must walk faster,' she said, recovering herself,
+'or I shall not have time to dress for dinner.' And then they both
+quickened their footsteps, and no more nonsense was talked about the
+fascinating Mrs. Blake.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+'A GIRL AFTER MY OWN HEART'
+
+     'Be to their virtues very kind,
+     Be to their faults a little blind,
+     And put a padlock on the mind.'
+
+                              ANON.
+
+
+'I will go to the Gray Cottage this afternoon,' was Audrey's first
+thought the next morning when she woke; but she kept this intention to
+herself when Geraldine came in, after breakfast, to beg for some
+favourite recipes of her mother's that she had lost or mislaid. 'And if
+you have nothing better to do,' she said, turning to Audrey, who was
+filling the flower-vases, 'I shall be very glad of your company this
+afternoon, as Percival is going up to London.'
+
+'Shall you be alone, Gage? I mean, are you expecting any special
+visitor?'
+
+'Well, old Mrs. Drayton is driving over to luncheon with that deaf niece
+of hers; but they will go away early--they always do. Come up later,
+Audrey, and bring your work; and perhaps Michael will fetch you--it is
+so long since we have seen him. I will not ask you both to stay to
+dinner, as Percival is always a little tired after a journey to London,
+and a _tête-à-tête_ dinner will suit him better; but we could have a
+long afternoon--you know you refused me yesterday because of the
+O'Briens.'
+
+'I will come up to tea, Gage,' interrupted Audrey somewhat hastily; 'I
+would rather avoid Miss Drayton, and Miss Montague is simply terrible.
+You may expect me about half-past four, and I will give Michael your
+message.'
+
+And Audrey carried off her vase to avoid any more necessary questioning.
+Gage seemed always wanting her now; was it all sisterly affection,
+Audrey wondered, or a clever device to counteract the Blake influence?
+
+'By the bye, mother,' observed Mrs. Harcourt carelessly, as she gathered
+up sundry papers, 'I suppose you will soon be leaving your card on Mrs.
+Blake? Percival thought I had better call with you, and if you are
+disengaged next Tuesday or Wednesday----'
+
+'Why, that is a week hence, my love!'
+
+'Yes, mother dear, I know; but I have so many engagements just now that
+I am obliged to make my plans beforehand. Besides, we could not very
+well call before--you know what a muddle they were in.'
+
+'Yes, I remember; and Audrey helped them so nicely to get straight. Very
+well, we will say Tuesday; and I really am very much obliged to Percival
+for his suggestion, for after all this talk, and the things Edith Bryce
+told you yesterday, I shall be quite nervous in calling alone.' But here
+a significant look from her daughter checked her, and she changed the
+subject rather awkwardly.
+
+'So dear Edith has been talking again,' thought Audrey, as she stepped
+out on the terrace with her empty basket; 'I almost wish I had been at
+Hillside yesterday, and heard things with my own ears.' And then she
+stopped to cut off a dark crimson rose that grew under the schoolroom
+window, and as she did so she became aware that Mr. Blake had put down
+his book and was watching her. She gave him a smile and a nod, and
+walked to the other end of the garden.
+
+'I always forget the schoolroom window,' she said to herself, with a
+slight blush, as she recalled that fixed look; 'Mr. Ollier generally sat
+with his back to the window and took no notice--he was as blind as a
+bat, too--but Mr. Blake is very observant.'
+
+Mrs. Ross had arranged to drive into Dulverton after luncheon with her
+husband. When Audrey had seen them off, and had exchanged a parting joke
+with her father, she started off for the Gray Cottage. Things had
+arranged themselves admirably: she had two hours before Geraldine would
+expect her. Michael had consented to fetch her--Kester was coming to him
+early in the afternoon, and he had also promised to take a class for Dr.
+Ross; he would put in an appearance about half-past five. And Audrey
+professed herself satisfied with this arrangement.
+
+Audrey met Kester on her way to the Cottage. The poor boy was dragging
+himself along rather painfully on his crutches; the heat tried him, he
+said, but he seemed bright and cheerful. Audrey looked pitifully at his
+shabby jacket and old boots; she noticed, too, the frayed edges of his
+wristbands. 'Is it poverty or bad management?' she thought; and then she
+asked Kester how he liked his new tutor. The boy flushed up in a moment.
+
+'Awfully--I like him awfully, Miss Ross, and so does Cyril. You have no
+idea of the trouble he takes with me; I know nothing of mathematics, but
+I mean to learn. Why,' went on Kester, with an important air, 'I am so
+busy now, working up for Cyril and Captain Burnett, that I can hardly
+find time for Mollie's sums and Latin.'
+
+Evidently Kester did not wish to be pitied for his additional labours.
+
+'Poor fellow, how happy he looks!' Audrey said to herself, as she went
+on. 'Michael is doing good work there.' But somehow she could not forget
+those frayed wristbands all the remainder of the day; there was a button
+off his jacket, too--she had noticed the unsightly gap. 'I wish Mrs.
+Blake had a little more method,' she thought; 'Mollie and Kester are
+certainly rather neglected. How could poor Mollie go to chapel in that
+frock?'
+
+Audrey let herself in at the green gate; but this time there was no
+Mollie on the threshold. She rang, and Biddy came hobbling out of the
+kitchen.
+
+'The mistress is in there,' she said, with a jerk of her head towards
+the dining-room, and then she threw open the door. 'Here's Miss Ross,
+mistress,' she said unceremoniously.
+
+Biddy was evidently unaccustomed to parlour work. Mollie, who was sewing
+in the window beside her mother, threw down her work with a delighted
+exclamation, and Zack gave a bark of recognition. Mrs. Blake welcomed
+her very cordially.
+
+'My dear Miss Ross,' she said in her soft, pretty voice, 'we thought you
+had quite forsaken us; poor Mollie has been as restless as possible. I
+cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you again; I was half afraid you
+had disappeared altogether, after the fashion of a benevolent brownie.'
+
+'I have so many friends,' began Audrey; but Mrs. Blake interrupted her:
+
+'There, I told you so, Mollie. I said to this foolish child, when she
+was bemoaning your absence, "You may take my word for it, Mollie, Miss
+Ross has a large circle of friends and acquaintances--it is only to be
+expected in her position--and of course we must not monopolise her;
+especially as we are new-comers and comparative strangers."'
+
+'Mollie thinks differently--don't you, Mollie? We are quite old friends,
+are we not?' and Audrey gave her a kind glance.
+
+How flushed and tired the poor child was looking! but she brightened up
+in a moment.
+
+'Of course we are not strangers,' she returned, quite indignantly;
+'mamma is only saying that because she wishes you to contradict her. Oh,
+Miss Ross,' nestling up to her, 'I have so wanted to see you--I have
+looked out for you every day!'
+
+'I could not possibly come before, dear.'
+
+'No--but now you will stay for a long time? Mamma, won't you ask Miss
+Ross to stay to tea? and Biddy will bake some scones. Biddy will do
+anything for Miss Ross; she said so the other day.'
+
+'My dear child, I could not possibly stay; I am going to have tea with
+my sister--she lives in one of the Hill houses. Another time, Mollie,'
+as a cloud of disappointment passed over Mollie's face; and to divert
+her thoughts she took up the work: 'Why, what pretty stuff! is this for
+your new frock?'
+
+Mollie's brow cleared like magic.
+
+'Yes; is it not lovely? Cyril chose it; he bought it for my last
+birthday, only mamma was too busy to make it up. But both my frocks will
+be done to-night--mamma says she will not go to bed until they are
+finished.'
+
+'Well, and I mean to keep my word,' returned Mrs. Blake good-humouredly;
+'and your new hat will be trimmed, too, and then Cyril will not grumble
+any more about his sister's shabbiness. I have been working like a slave
+ever since I got up this morning, and yet this naughty child pretended
+she was tired because I wanted her to stitch the sleeves.'
+
+'But, mamma, I had to iron all those handkerchiefs for Biddy.'
+
+'Yes, I know--and it was terribly hot in the kitchen; she does look
+tired, does she not, Miss Ross? I have a good idea, Mollie: put down
+that sleeve, and I will finish it myself in a twinkling, and fetch your
+hat and go down to the cricket-field and bring Cyril back with you to
+tea--it will be a nice walk for you.'
+
+'Oh, mamma!' protested Mollie; 'I would so much rather stay here with
+you and Miss Ross, and I don't care about the walk.'
+
+'But if I wish you to go;' and there was a certain inflection in Mrs.
+Blake's soft voice which evidently obliged poor Mollie to obey. She rose
+reluctantly, but there were tears of vexation in her eyes. Audrey felt
+grieved for her favourite, but she was unwilling to interfere; she only
+took the girl's hand and detained her a moment.
+
+'Mrs. Blake, could you spare Mollie to me to-morrow afternoon? I want to
+show her our garden--it is looking so lovely just now.'
+
+'You are very kind,' hesitating slightly; 'but are you sure that it will
+be convenient to Mrs. Ross?'
+
+'My mother has nothing to do with it--Mollie will be my visitor,'
+returned Audrey quietly; and then she continued diplomatically: 'I know
+my mother intends to call on you next week, Mrs. Blake; she and my
+sister were planning it this morning--they are only waiting until you
+are settled.'
+
+Evidently Mrs. Blake was much pleased with this piece of intelligence;
+she coloured slightly, and her manner became more animated.
+
+'That is very kind; I do so long to see Mrs. Ross: Cyril is charmed with
+her, and he thinks Mrs. Harcourt wonderfully handsome. Oh yes, I can
+easily spare Mollie; and her frock and hat will be all ready. Now off
+with you, child,' with laughing peremptoriness; and Mollie only paused
+to kiss her friend and whisper that she was quite happy now, as she
+would have her all to herself the next day.
+
+'Mollie has got to a difficult age,' observed Mrs. Blake, stitching
+rapidly as she spoke; and Audrey again admired the lovely profile and
+finely shaped head; 'she is getting a little self-willed and wants her
+own way. And then she is such a chatterbox; she will hardly let me get
+in a word. Sometimes I like to have my friends to myself; you can
+understand that, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Oh yes, that is easily understood,' returned Audrey, who nevertheless
+missed Mollie.
+
+'I thought I could talk to you more easily without her this afternoon; I
+wanted to speak to you about your cousin--Captain Burnett is your
+cousin, is he not?'
+
+'He is my father's cousin.'
+
+'Ah, well, that is much the same. Is he a pale, slight-looking man with
+a reddish-brown moustache?'
+
+'Certainly that description suits Michael. I think he has such a nice
+face, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'I daresay; he is not handsome, but he looks like a soldier. What keen,
+bright eyes he has! The children have talked about him so much that I
+was quite curious to see him.'
+
+'It is certain that you have seen him; no one else in Rutherford answers
+to that description. It is odd how everyone makes that remark about
+Michael's eyes.'
+
+'Yes, they are a little too searching. I have plenty of courage, but I
+am disposed to feel afraid of Captain Burnett. What I wanted to say,
+Miss Ross, is this--that I am truly grateful to your cousin for his kind
+interest in my poor boy.'
+
+'Do you mean this as a message?'
+
+'That is just as you think proper; but in my opinion he ought to know
+how much Kester's mother appreciates his kindness. When I first heard of
+the plan, I will confess to you honestly, Miss Ross, I was a little bit
+alarmed. Kester did not explain things properly--he would have it that
+Captain Burnett meant to give him lessons here, and I told Cyril that
+would never do. Cyril was a trifle bothered about it himself, until he
+had a talk with Captain Burnett and found out that Kester was to go to
+Woodcote.'
+
+'Oh yes, of course; Michael intended that all along.'
+
+'True, and I ought not to have flurried myself. But if you only knew
+what I went through at Headingly, and the unkind things that people said
+of me! A burnt child dreads the fire, and I was determined that no one
+should have an opportunity of speaking against me at Rutherford. What a
+hard world it is, Miss Ross! Just because I am--well'--with a little
+laugh--'what you call good-looking--why should I deny the truth? I am
+sure I care little about my looks except for Cyril's sake; but just
+because I am not plain, people take advantage of my unprotected
+position. Oh, the things that were said!' with a quick frown of
+annoyance at the recollection. 'I daresay some of them have reached your
+ears. Haven't you heard, for example, that I tried to set my cap at Dr.
+Forester, only his daughter grew alarmed and insulted me so grossly that
+I vowed never to speak to him again? Have you not heard that, Miss
+Ross?'
+
+Audrey was obliged to confess that something of this story had reached
+her.
+
+'But I did not believe it, Mrs. Blake, and I do not believe it now,' she
+continued hastily.
+
+Mrs. Blake's eyes filled with indignant tears.
+
+'It was not true--not a word of it!' she returned in a low vehement
+voice. 'You may ask Cyril. Oh, how angry he was when the report reached
+him! He came home and took me in his arms and said we should not stay
+there--no one should talk against his mother. They did say such horrid
+things against me, Miss Ross; and yet how could I help Dr. Forester
+calling on me sometimes? He was never invited--no one asked him to
+repeat his visits. Mollie will tell you I was barely civil to him. I
+suppose he admired me, that is the truth; and his daughter knew it, and
+it made her bitter. Well, after that, I declared that nothing would
+induce me to receive gentlemen again, unless they were Cyril's friends
+and he brought them himself.'
+
+Audrey was silent. She had been very angry when Geraldine had told her
+the story. She had declared it was a pure fabrication--a piece of
+village gossip.
+
+'Besides, if it were true,' she had continued, 'where is the harm of a
+wealthy widower, with one daughter, falling in love with a good-looking
+widow? And yet Edith Bryce seems to hint darkly at some misconduct on
+Mrs. Blake's part.'
+
+'You are putting it too strongly, dear,' replied her sister. 'Edith only
+said she considered Mrs. Blake rather flippant in manner, and a little
+too gracious to gentlemen----' but Audrey had refused to hear more.
+
+'I was utterly wretched at Headingly,' went on Mrs. Blake, in her sweet,
+plaintive voice; 'and Cyril grew to hate it at last--for my sake. He
+says he is sure it will be different here, and that people are so much
+nicer. I believe he thinks you angelic, Miss Ross, and your mother only
+a degree less so. Only last night he said to me, as we were walking up
+and down in the moonlight, "I am certain you will be happy at
+Rutherford, mother. You have one nice friend already, and----" But,
+there, I had better not repeat my boy's words.'
+
+Audrey felt anxious to change the subject.
+
+'Where did you live before you went to Headingly?' she asked abruptly,
+and Mrs. Blake was clever enough to take her cue.
+
+'We were in lodgings in Richmond,' she answered readily. 'You know we
+were poor, and I was straining every nerve to keep Cyril at Oxford. I
+had been saving up every year for it, but I cannot deny we were sadly
+pinched. I had to send Biddy home for a year or two, and Mollie and
+Kester and I lived in three little rooms, in such a dull street. Cyril
+generally got a holiday engagement for the summer, but when he joined
+us--I procured him a bedroom near us--it used to make him very unhappy
+to see the way we lived. But I always comforted him by reminding him
+that one day he would make a home for us, and that cheered him up.'
+
+'You were certainly very good to him. Some mothers would not have done
+half so much,' observed Audrey.
+
+She was repaid for this little speech, as a smile, almost infantile in
+its sweetness, came to Mrs. Blake's lip.
+
+'I wish Cyril could hear you say that. But he knows--he feels--I have
+done my best for him. Yes, my darling, I have indeed!' She clasped her
+hands and sighed. 'What did a little extra work, a few sacrifices,
+matter, when one looked to the future? We were very straitened--the poor
+children did not always have what they needed--but I don't think we
+were, any of us, unhappy.'
+
+'I can so well understand that. I think people are too much afraid of
+being poor. I could never see, myself, why poverty should hinder
+happiness.'
+
+'Do you not?' looking at her a little curiously; 'but you have not
+served my apprenticeship. You do not know how hard it is for a
+pleasure-loving nature to be deprived of so many sources of
+enjoyment--to have to stint one's taste for pretty things--to be
+perpetually saying "no" to one's self.'
+
+'And yet you own that you were happy.'
+
+'Well, yes, after a fashion. I think the poor children were, until
+Kester got so ill. Mollie and I used to walk about Richmond Park and
+build castles in the air. We planned what we would do if we were rich,
+and sometimes we would amuse ourselves by looking into the shop-windows
+and thinking what we should like to buy--like a couple of gutter
+children--and sometimes, on a winter's evening, we would blow out the
+candles and sit round the fire and tell stories.'
+
+'And then you say Kester fell ill?'
+
+'Well, it was not exactly an illness. But he seemed to dwindle and pine,
+somehow, and Cyril and I got dreadfully anxious about him. I don't think
+Richmond suited him, and I could not give him the comforts he needed;
+and he fretted so about his want of education. He seemed to get better
+directly we went to Headingly and Cyril began to give him lessons.'
+
+'Yes, I see;' and then Audrey took advantage of the pause to look at her
+watch. It was later than she thought, and she rose reluctantly to go.
+Mrs. Blake rose too.
+
+'Don't you think me an odd, unconventional sort of person to tell you
+all this?' she asked a little abruptly. 'Do you know, Cyril often says
+that I make him very anxious, because I am so dreadfully impulsive and
+speak out everything I think; but I made up my mind that afternoon when
+Cyril told me that Mrs. Bryce was a connection of your sister's that I
+would talk to you about the Headingly worries on the first opportunity.'
+
+'I am very glad you have spoken to me; I think it was very brave of
+you.'
+
+'No, my dear Miss Ross, not brave, but cowardly. I was so afraid you
+would be prejudiced against me; and you must know that I have taken a
+great fancy to you. I am a very strange creature: I always like or
+dislike a person at first sight, and I never--perhaps I should say I
+scarcely ever--change my opinion.'
+
+'I think that is a great mistake. It is impossible to read some people
+at first sight.'
+
+'Perhaps so; but you were distinctly legible. When I looked out of my
+window and saw you setting out the little tea-table on the lawn with
+Mollie, I said to myself, "That is a girl after my own heart."'
+
+Audrey laughed; but the little compliment pleased her. Somehow Mrs.
+Blake's manner made everything she said seem charming. Audrey felt more
+and more drawn to this fascinating woman.
+
+'And I want you to come very often, and to be my friend as well as
+Mollie's,' with soft insistence.
+
+'Yes; yours and Mollie's and Kester's,' replied Audrey in an amused
+voice.
+
+'And not Cyril's? My dear Miss Ross, I hope you do not mean to exclude
+Cyril.'
+
+'Oh, of course not,' rather hurriedly. 'But, Mrs. Blake, you must really
+let me go, or Geraldine will be waiting tea; as it is, I shall have to
+walk very fast, to make up for lost time.'
+
+Audrey's thoughts were very busy as she walked swiftly up the Hill.
+
+'I like her--I like her exceedingly,' she said to herself; 'I have never
+met a more interesting person: she is so naïve and winning in her
+manner. I feel I shall soon love her; and yet all the time I see her
+faults so plainly. She is terribly unpractical, and manages as badly as
+possible. Edith Bryce was right when she said that. And she is foolish
+with regard to her eldest son--no mother ought to be so partial. I am
+afraid Kester must feel it; all his interests are secondary to his
+brother's. It is hardly fair. And Mollie, too--the child seems a
+perfect drudge. No, my dear woman, I admire you more than I can say,
+and I know I shall very soon get fond of you; but you are not
+blameless.'
+
+And then a curious doubt crept into Audrey's mind: with all her
+impulsiveness, was not Mrs. Blake rather a clever woman, to tell that
+Forester story in her own way? Audrey had already heard a very different
+version. She knew Agatha Forester had lived in deadly terror of the
+charming widow. It was true that she had declined to believe the story,
+and that her sympathies were enlisted on Mrs. Blake's side; but, still,
+was it not rather a clever stratagem on Mrs. Blake's part to secure her
+as an ally? But Audrey dismissed this thought as quickly as it passed
+through her mind.
+
+'Why, what nonsense!' she argued. 'I am accusing Mrs. Blake of being a
+little deep, when she herself owned frankly that she was anxious to
+prejudice me in her favour. Of course she knew Edith Bryce would talk to
+Gage, and it was only wise of her to tell me the truth. People must have
+treated her very badly at Headingly, or her son would not have taken her
+part. He seems to have plenty of common-sense, although he dotes on her.
+They are a wonderfully interesting family, and I seem to know them all
+so well already.' And this last reflection brought her to Hillside.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+MOLLIE GOES TO DEEP-WATER CHINE
+
+     'Well I know what they feel.
+     They gaze, and the evening wind
+     Plays on their faces; they gaze--
+     Airs from the Eden of youth
+     Awake and stir in their soul.'
+
+                         MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Mollie arrived very punctually the next afternoon. Audrey, who was
+watching for her, hardly recognised the girl as she came slowly along
+the terrace. She wore a pretty gray stuff frock and a straw hat, trimmed
+very tastefully with the simplest materials; and her usually unkempt
+locks were neatly arranged in a broad glossy plait that reached to her
+waist.
+
+Audrey felt quite proud of her appearance, and took her into the
+drawing-room to see her mother and sister; for Geraldine had just
+dropped in on her way down the town. Mrs. Ross received her very nicely;
+but Geraldine took very little notice of her. Mollie was rather shy and
+awkward, and answered all Mrs. Ross's questions in monosyllables. She
+seemed so hot and confused that Mrs. Ross's motherly heart took
+compassion on her.
+
+'Do not let us keep you, my dear,' she said, addressing Audrey. 'I am
+sure Geraldine will excuse you; and it is far too fine to stay indoors.'
+
+'In that case, we will go, Mollie,' returned Audrey in a relieved tone.
+'Good-bye, Gage; I daresay I shall see you to-morrow. And, mother, let
+me know when tea is ready;' and then she beckoned Mollie to follow her.
+
+Mollie was no longer silent when she found herself alone with her
+friend.
+
+'Oh dear, Miss Ross, what a grand house you live in, and what a lovely
+garden! Ours must seem such a poor, poky little place after this, and
+yet we were all so pleased with it. I do like Mrs. Ross so; she is such
+a dear old lady'--Audrey had never heard her mother called a 'dear old
+lady' before--'and what a grand-looking person your sister is! I never
+saw anyone so handsome.'
+
+But Mollie's tone was a trifle dubious.
+
+'I hope you mean to like her too, Mollie.'
+
+'I don't seem to know her yet,' replied Mollie evasively; 'but I liked
+looking at her. Somehow I could not talk before her. Where are we going,
+Miss Ross? There is no pond that I can see.'
+
+'No lake,' corrected Audrey, with much dignity. 'No, Mollie; I am going
+to introduce you to the greenhouses and poultry-yard first; then there
+are the pigs, and the boys' play-ground--oh, a host of sights!--before
+we make our way down to the lake.'
+
+'Ah, now you mean to be funny, because Cyril always calls it the
+pond--and Kester too. You must be very rich, Miss Ross, to live here and
+have all these fine things. Mamma was saying so to Cyril when he was
+telling us about it.'
+
+'This is my favourite little bantam, Mollie,' interposed Audrey; and
+then Mollie gave herself up to enjoyment, there were so many things to
+see. Mollie wondered and exclaimed and admired, with flushed cheeks and
+sparkling eyes, until Audrey told herself the child was positively
+pretty.
+
+At last they found themselves by the tiny lake, with their hands full of
+bread for Snowflake and Eiderdown, while a little troop of rare foreign
+ducks hung somewhat timidly in the rear. Presently, to Mollie's intense
+delight, they got into the canoe, and Audrey, with much gravity,
+commenced their voyage.
+
+'For you may laugh, Mollie,' she said severely, 'but you have no idea of
+the extent of the place. This island is called "The Swans' Nest." We
+need not land, because we can see it perfectly from the canoe; but you
+may perhaps notice a small wooden building somewhere in the recesses of
+the island.'
+
+'Oh yes, I see it perfectly,' returned Mollie, with the utmost candour.
+'I could almost cover the island with my pocket-handkerchief; but, of
+course, it is very pretty.'
+
+Audrey gave her a withering glance.
+
+'We will go on a little farther. You have a capital view of Woodcote
+now; the house is in fine perspective. There is Michael's Bench, so
+called after my cousin, Captain Burnett; and this, Mollie'--pointing to
+a pretty little thicket of trees and shrubs reaching down to the
+water--'is Deep-water Chine. With your permission, we will rest here a
+moment.'
+
+'Have we got to the end of our voyage?' laughed Mollie. 'Oh dear, Miss
+Ross, how droll you are this afternoon! But it is pretty--sweetly
+pretty; and how lovely those swans are! How happy you must be to live in
+such a dear place!'
+
+'I am very fond of it,' returned Audrey dreamily. 'Listen to those
+birds; father is so fond of them. You cannot admire the place more than
+I do, Mollie. To me Woodcote is the finest place in the world; it would
+be dreadful to leave it.'
+
+'Why should you ever leave it, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Why, indeed?' with an amused curl of her lip. 'I don't suppose I ever
+shall leave it, Mollie.'
+
+'Not unless you married,' replied Mollie, in a serious voice. 'People
+are obliged to go away when they are married, are they not? But perhaps
+you will have as grand a place of your own.'
+
+'I have half made up my mind that I will be an old maid,' returned
+Audrey lazily. 'Old maids lead such nice, useful, unselfish lives.' And
+then, as Mollie opened her eyes rather widely at this, she went on:
+'What a pretty frock that is!--and that smocking is exquisitely done. I
+really must ask your mother to give me lessons--for it will be useful if
+I ever should have any nephews and nieces,' thought Audrey, who was
+practical in her own way.
+
+'Mamma will be delighted to teach you; she is so fond of you, Miss Ross.
+She was talking about you half the evening. Do you know, she did not go
+to bed until past one o'clock; she was finishing my blue cambric. Cyril
+begged her to put it down half a dozen times, but she said no, she had
+made up her mind to finish it--and the hat, too. He had to go off to bed
+and leave her at last, and it was not really done until past one.'
+
+Audrey made no comment. She was asking herself how far she ought to
+encourage Mollie's childish loquacity--she was very original and
+amusing.
+
+'But if I do not check her,' thought Audrey, 'there is no knowing what
+she may say next. All the Blakes are so very outspoken.'
+
+But Mollie was disposed to enlarge on a topic that interested her so
+closely. She had arrived at an age when a girl begins to feel some
+anxiety to make the best of herself. Her nice new frock was an important
+ingredient in the day's pleasure; she felt a different Mollie from the
+Mollie of yesterday. It was as though Cinderella, dusty and begrimed
+with her ashes, had suddenly donned her princess's robe.
+
+'I am so glad you think my frock pretty,' she went on. 'I shall be able
+to go to chapel with Cyril next Sunday. This is my Sunday frock; my blue
+cambric is for every afternoon. It was very fortunate mamma was in her
+working mood yesterday, for she would never have allowed me to come in
+my old brown frock. She is so busy to-day; she made me bring her down a
+pile of Kester's shirts that want mending--"For the poor boy is in
+rags," she said. Stop! I think it was Cyril who said that. I thought it
+was funny for mamma to notice about Kester. Yes, it was Cyril.'
+
+'Mollie, do you know your mother calls you a sad chatterbox?' observed
+Audrey at this point.
+
+Mollie coloured up and looked perturbed.
+
+'Oh, Miss Ross, did mamma tell you that really? Perhaps that was why she
+wanted to get rid of me yesterday, because I talk so much. Do you
+know'--dropping her voice and looking rather melancholy--'I never do
+seem to please mamma, however much I try; and I do try--oh! so hard. I
+never mind Cyril laughing at me, because he does it so good-naturedly;
+but when mamma speaks in that reproachful voice, and says that at my age
+I might help her more, I do feel so unhappy. I often cry about it when I
+go to bed, and then the next day I am sure to be more stupid, and forget
+things and make mistakes, and then mamma gets more displeased with me
+than ever.'
+
+'My dear little Mollie, I am sure you work hard enough.'
+
+'Yes, but there is so much to do,' returned Mollie, with a heavy sigh.
+'Biddy is so old, she cannot make the beds and sweep and clean and cook
+the dinner without any help. Kester is always saying that if we had a
+younger and stronger servant we should do so much better. But mamma is
+so angry when she hears him say that; she declares nothing will induce
+her to part with Biddy--Biddy used to be mamma's nurse, you know.
+Sometimes I get so tired of doing the same things day after day, and I
+long to go out and play tennis, like other girls. But that is not the
+worst'--and here poor Mollie looked ready to cry; 'do you mind if I tell
+you, Miss Ross? I seem talking so much about myself, and I am so afraid
+of wearying you.'
+
+'No, dear; you may tell me anything you like--about yourself, I mean,'
+corrected Audrey hastily.
+
+'Yes, I know what you mean, and it will make me so comfortable to talk
+it all out--and I have only Kester, you know. I am so afraid, and Kester
+is afraid, too, that with all this rough work I shall never be as
+ladylike as mamma. She has such beautiful manners, and, then, have you
+noticed her hands, Miss Ross? they are so white and pretty; and look at
+mine!' and Mollie thrust out a brown, roughened little hand for
+inspection.
+
+'You have a pretty hand, too, Mollie, though it is not quite soft at
+present; but if I were you, I should be proud to think that it was hard
+with good honest work for others.'
+
+'Yes, if only Cyril would not notice it; he told me one day that no
+young lady ought to have hands like a kitchenmaid. Mamma heard him say
+it, and she begged me to use glycerine and sleep in gloves, but I could
+not do such things. I am afraid you think me very complaining, Miss
+Ross, but I have not got to the worst trouble of all, and that is--that
+I have so little time for my lessons.'
+
+'Oh, I was going to ask you about that.'
+
+'I fret about it dreadfully sometimes, and then Kester is so sorry for
+me. He does all he can for me, poor boy! but sometimes on a hot
+afternoon I am too sleepy and stupid to do my sums and Latin. I don't
+like sums, Miss Ross, or Latin either: I would so much rather read
+French and history with mamma--she reads so beautifully and teaches so
+well--but somehow she is so often too busy or too tired to attend to
+me.'
+
+'And who teaches you music?'
+
+'No one,' and here Mollie's face wore a look of the deepest dejection;
+'we have no piano, and mamma does not play. When we lived at Richmond
+the lady in the drawing-room taught me my notes, and I used to practise
+scales and exercises in her room. She was such a funny old dear, with
+queer little pinned-up curls. Her name was Miss Foster--she had been a
+governess--and she used to be so kind to Kester and me. She would ask us
+into her room, and give us cake and nice things; but I don't think she
+liked mamma--she was always pitying us and calling us "poor children;"
+but I am sure we were very happy.'
+
+'And she gave you music-lessons?'
+
+'Yes, and I got on quite nicely. I am so fond of music, Miss Ross, and
+so is Cyril; he sings beautifully, and can play his own accompaniments.
+He talks of hiring a piano, and then perhaps I can practise my scales
+and exercises.'
+
+Audrey made no answer for a moment--she was deep in thought--and then
+she said suddenly:
+
+'Are you busy all the morning, Mollie? I mean, if you had a piano, when
+would you practise?'
+
+This question seemed to puzzle Mollie.
+
+'I hardly know, Miss Ross--in the morning, I think, when I had done
+helping Biddy. Kester generally wants me for an hour in the afternoon,
+and there is the chance, too, that mamma might call me to read history
+with her. I daresay I could get half an hour or so before
+dinner--luncheon, I mean.'
+
+'Would you like to come to me twice a week for a lesson? Oh, Mollie
+dear, take care!' for the girl was starting up in her excitement; 'the
+water is very deep here, and if you upset us----'
+
+'No, no, I will sit quite still; but I did so want to kiss you--it is
+such a lovely idea!'
+
+'I am so glad you approve of it. I tell you what, Mollie, I will call
+one afternoon and settle it with your mother. The morning will suit me
+best; I generally go out after luncheon, unless we have a tennis-party
+at home; but with a little management I think I could contrive to spare
+you an hour twice a week--perhaps an hour and a half,' finished Audrey,
+whose busy brain had already suggested that a French exercise or half an
+hour's French reading might be thrown in after the music-lesson.
+
+Audrey was a good linguist, and played very nicely; it made her quite
+happy to think that she could turn her accomplishments to account. And
+really the child was so disgracefully neglected--Audrey did not scruple
+a bit to use the word 'disgracefully.' It was strange how all her
+sympathy was enlisted on Mollie's behalf, and yet she could not like
+Mrs. Blake one whit the less for her mismanagement of the girl. On the
+contrary, Audrey only felt her interest quicken with every fresh
+side-light and detail; she longed to take the Blake household under her
+especial protection, to manipulate the existing arrangements, and put
+things on a different footing. Biddy should go--that should be the first
+innovation; a strong, sturdy Rutherford girl like Rhoda Atkinson should
+come in her place. Poor little Mollie should be set free from all but
+the lightest household duties--a little dusting or pastry-making; she
+should have regular hours for practising, for reading French, even for
+drawing. Geraldine was very good-natured, she drew beautifully--Audrey
+was quite sure that after a time she might be pressed into the service.
+Between herself, Gage, and Kester, Mollie might turn out an accomplished
+woman. Dreams, mere dreams, if Mrs. Blake could not be induced to part
+with Biddy; and here the thought of the little work-roughened hands gave
+Audrey a positive pang.
+
+Mollie, on the contrary, sat and beamed at her young benefactress. She
+was that; she was everything perfect in Mollie's eyes. Mollie's cup of
+happiness was full to overflowing! to see her dear Miss Ross twice a
+week, to be taught by her, to study her beloved music; Mollie's heart
+sang for joy: the sunshine seemed to intoxicate her. She was in a new
+world--a world with swans and birds and bees in it--full of leafy
+shadows and rippling, tiny waves. The kind face opposite her broke into
+a smile.
+
+'Well, Mollie, are you tired of sitting here? Shall we go back to the
+landing-place?'
+
+'Miss Ross, there is Cyril looking for us!' exclaimed Mollie, almost
+beside herself with excitement. 'Yes, do please let us go back; he is
+waving to us.' And Audrey paddled across the pond.
+
+Cyril lifted his straw hat rather gravely; but there was restrained
+eagerness in his manner as he helped them to alight.
+
+'Mrs. Ross sent me to fetch you,' he said quietly. 'Tea is ready, and
+Miss Cardell and her brother are in the drawing-room. Mrs. Ross begged
+me to come back with you. Why, Mollie'--with a pleased look--'I should
+hardly have known you. She looks almost grown up, does she not, Miss
+Ross?'
+
+His manner had changed in a moment. He looked bright and animated; his
+slight gravity vanished. It was Audrey who became suddenly embarrassed;
+the eager look with which the young man had greeted her had not been
+unnoticed by her. Cyril's dark eyes were very expressive. More than once
+during the last day or two Audrey had innocently intercepted those
+strange, searching glances, and they vaguely disturbed her.
+
+'It is very good of you to take all this trouble with Mollie,' continued
+Cyril, as he walked beside her towards the house. 'I need not ask if she
+has been happy--eh, Mollie?'
+
+'I have had a lovely time!' exclaimed Mollie, almost treading on Cyril's
+heels in her excitement. 'Oh, Cyril, do ask Miss Ross to take you in the
+canoe to Deep-water Chine! It is such a delicious place! The trees dip
+into the water, and the birds come down to drink and bathe; and we saw
+a water-rat and a water-wagtail, and there was the cuckoo; and we could
+hear the cooing of the wood-pigeons whenever we were silent; and, oh! it
+was paradise!'
+
+'I can believe it,' returned Cyril, in a low voice.
+
+'Mr. Blake,' asked Audrey hastily, 'why is it that you are not on the
+cricket-field with the boys?'
+
+'Conybeare has taken my place. A lot of the boys were kept in, which
+means I was a prisoner too. I have only just opened the gaol-door to the
+poor wretches. If you want to see a heart-breaking sight, Miss Ross--one
+sad enough to touch the stoniest heart--go into the schoolroom on a
+half-holiday on a summer's afternoon when half a dozen boys are kept in
+for lessons returned. The utter misery depicted on those boys' faces is
+not to be described.'
+
+'I should just shut up their books and tell them to be off.'
+
+'I daresay you would,' with an amused look at her. 'I can well imagine
+that that would be Miss Ross's _rôle_. We masters have to harden our
+hearts; "discipline must be maintained," as that delightful old fellow
+in _Bleak House_ used to say; bad work brings its own punishment.'
+
+'You are as stern as Captain Burnett. By the bye, where is Michael?'
+
+'He has gone out with Dr. Ross. That is why Mrs. Ross wants me to make
+myself useful'--and Cyril did make himself useful.
+
+Some more visitors dropped in, Geraldine amongst them. She had finished
+her business in the town, had paid a couple of calls, and now looked in
+on her way home. Somehow, Woodcote was always on the way home; but,
+then, as everyone said, there were few daughters so devoted to their
+mother as young Mrs. Harcourt.
+
+Audrey, who was presiding at the tea-table, saw her sister looking at
+Mr. Blake with reluctant admiration; she had never before noticed the
+quiet ease of his manners. He had lost his first shyness, and was now
+making himself exceedingly pleasant to Mrs. Ross's guests. Mr. Cardell,
+who was a stiff, solemn-faced young man, was placed at a decided
+disadvantage; clever and gentlemanly as he was, he looked positively
+awkward beside Mr. Blake. Mr. Blake seemed to see everything--to notice
+in a moment if a lady wanted her cup put down, if her tea were not to
+her taste; he carried sugar and cream to one, cake or bread and butter
+to another. He seemed to know by instinct when the teapot wanted
+replenishing, and was ready to lift the heavy kettle; but he never
+remained by Audrey's side a moment.
+
+As Audrey busied herself among her teacups she was amused by overhearing
+a fragment of conversation behind her. Emily Cardell, a plain,
+good-natured sort of girl, had seated herself beside Geraldine.
+
+'Mr. Blake seems a decided acquisition,' she observed, in a loud whisper
+that was distinctly audible. 'We ought all to be very much obliged to
+Dr. Ross. He is very young, but so distinguished-looking. Poor Oliver is
+quite cast in the shade.'
+
+'I don't know about that, Emily.'
+
+'I suppose you think comparisons are odious? But, all the same, I am
+sure you must admire Mr. Blake.'
+
+'I think he is very gentlemanly and pleasant.'
+
+'Dear me, Geraldine! that is very moderate praise. I never saw anyone
+with more finished manners.'
+
+Here Audrey moved away, but her lip curled a little. Would Geraldine's
+tone have been so utterly devoid of enthusiasm if she had not known her
+sister was within earshot?
+
+Just then Mollie touched Audrey on the arm.
+
+'Miss Ross, Cyril says that I have been here long enough, and that he is
+going to take me away.'
+
+'Are you sure that I worded it quite so ungraciously?' observed Cyril,
+who had followed her. 'All the same, I think you will endorse my
+opinion, Miss Ross. Mollie has been here all the afternoon.'
+
+'It has been a very pleasant afternoon,' returned Audrey, with one of
+her kind looks at Mollie; 'and I hope we shall have many more. Mollie
+and I mean to see a good deal of each other.' And then she bade them
+good-bye and turned to the other guests, who were also making their
+adieux.
+
+Geraldine remained behind to exchange a few confidential words with her
+mother, and Audrey stepped out on the terrace. As she did so, she was
+surprised to see Michael sitting just outside the drawing-room window.
+He had evidently been there some time.
+
+As she sat down beside him she was struck by his air of dejection.
+
+'Oh, Michael, how tired you look! have you had your tea?'
+
+He shook his head.
+
+'Then I will go and fetch you some. Do let me, Michael;' for he had
+stopped her.
+
+Michael's hand was very thin and white, but when he cared to put out his
+strength it had a grasp like iron; and that firm, soft grip on Audrey's
+wrist kept her a prisoner.
+
+'No, don't go; it is so late that I would rather wait for dinner. I
+heard the teacups, but I was too lazy to move, and to judge from the
+voices, the room must have been pretty full.'
+
+'Yes; the Cardells and the Fortescues and Gage were there.'
+
+'Mr. Blake, too, was he not?'
+
+'Yes, mother asked him--she wanted him to help entertain the Cardells.'
+
+'Yes, I see; and he seems disposed to be friendly--your father has asked
+him to dinner to-morrow night to meet the Pagets.'
+
+'Indeed!' and Audrey tried to suppress the pleasure she felt at this
+intelligence. 'Have you any objection?' She asked the question in a
+joking manner; to her surprise her cousin answered her quite gravely:
+
+'Well, I think it will be a pity to take too much notice of him--he is
+young enough to be spoilt. People are glad to have a good-looking fellow
+like Blake at their parties; and, then, I hear he has a magnificent
+voice. I expect half the young ladies of Rutherford will be in love with
+him--Miss Emily Cardell among them; eh, Audrey?'
+
+'I am sure I don't know,' returned Audrey coldly; 'Mr. Blake's good
+looks are nothing to me.' She spoke with unusual petulance, as though
+something in her cousin's remarks had not pleased her. 'Well, if you
+will not have some tea, Michael, I must just go back to mother and
+Gage;' and as Michael said no word to detain her, she moved away so
+quickly that she did not hear the half-stifled sigh with which Michael
+took up his paper again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+GERALDINE GIVES HER OPINION
+
+     'We must be as courteous to a man as we are to a picture, which we
+     are willing to give the advantage of a good light.'--EMERSON.
+
+     'She has a most winning manner and a soft voice.'--_The Abbot_.
+
+
+Audrey was able to fulfil her promise to Mollie the very next day, when
+she encountered Mrs. Blake unexpectedly some little way from the town.
+She was just turning down a lane where one of her _protégées_, a little
+lame seamstress, lived, when Zack suddenly bounded round the corner and
+jumped on her, with one of his delighted barks, and the next moment she
+saw a lady in black walking very quickly towards her. She wore a large
+shady hat that completely hid her face, but there was no mistaking that
+graceful figure. Mrs. Blake had a peculiar walk: it was rapid, decided,
+and had a light skimming movement, that reminded Audrey of some bird
+flying very near the ground; and she had a singular habit as she walked
+of turning her head from side to side, as though scanning distant
+objects, which deepened this resemblance.
+
+'What a charming surprise!' she exclaimed, quickening her pace until it
+became a little run; 'who would have thought of meeting you, my dear
+Miss Ross, in this out-of-the-way corner? Some errand of mercy has
+brought you, of course,' with a glance at Audrey's basket. 'That dainty
+little white cloth reminds me of Red Riding Hood; I would wager anything
+that under it there are new-laid eggs and butter. Down, Zack! you are
+sniffing at it just as though you were that wicked wolf himself.'
+
+'I am going to see Rhoda Williams,' returned Audrey; 'she is lame, poor
+girl! and has miserable health besides, but she works beautifully.
+Geraldine and I employ her as much as possible. I suppose you and Zack
+have been having a walk.
+
+'My dear Miss Ross,' with extreme gravity, 'I am not taking an ordinary
+constitutional--I have come out in the hope of preserving my reason. I
+have been enacting a new version of Hood's "Song of the Shirt"; for the
+last two days it has been "Stitch, stitch, stitch,"--how do the words
+run on?--until I was on the brink of delirium. An hour ago I said to
+Mollie: "If you have any love for your mother, carry away that basket
+and hide it; do not let me see it again for twenty-four hours--nature is
+exhausted;" and then I put on my hat, and, at the risk of spoiling my
+complexion, came out into this blessed sunshine.'
+
+Audrey laughed; there was something so droll, so mirth-provoking in Mrs.
+Blake's tone. Any other woman would have said, in a matter-of-fact way:
+'I was tired of work, and so I put on my bonnet;' but Mrs. Blake liked
+to drape her sentences effectively.
+
+'It is very fortunate that we have met,' returned Audrey, when she had
+finished her laugh, 'for I want to ask you a great favour;' and she
+detailed her little scheme for Mollie.
+
+Mrs. Blake was evidently surprised, but she testified her gratitude in
+her usual impulsive way.
+
+'How good, how kind of you, my dear Miss Ross! Indeed, I do not know how
+to thank you; no one has ever taken so much notice of my poor Mollie
+before, except that droll old creature Miss Foster; but she could not
+bear me--a compliment I reciprocated; so we always quarrelled when we
+met.'
+
+'And you will spare Mollie to me for an hour or so twice a week?'
+
+'Will I not! Do you suppose I am such an unnatural mother that I could
+refuse such a generous offer? I really am ashamed to tell you, Miss
+Ross, that I do not know a note of music. When I was a girl I was very
+perverse, and refused to learn, because I said I had no ear; but in
+reality I hated the trouble of all those scales and exercises. Of course
+I am sorry for it now: Cyril is so musical, and has such a delightful
+voice, and even poor little Mollie has picked up her notes as cleverly
+as possible.'
+
+'I am so glad you have not refused me. I am sure I shall enjoy teaching
+Mollie. I think we had better begin as soon as possible. Let me see:
+this is Friday; will you ask her to come to me on Monday morning? I will
+be ready for her by half-past eleven.'
+
+'Thank you a thousand times! I will certainly give her your message.
+What a blessing that new cambric is finished! Cyril will be so pleased
+when I tell him about your kindness. He worries dreadfully about Mollie
+sometimes: he says her education is so desultory; but I tell him he
+cannot alter his mother's nature. I never was methodical; it drives me
+crazy to do things by rule. Mollie sometimes says to me: "Mamma, I do so
+wish I had a fixed hour for lessons, that I knew exactly when you could
+read with me;" and my invariable answer is, "Good gracious, Mollie!
+don't you know me by this time? am I that sort of person?" I wish for my
+children's sake that I were different; but they must just put up with me
+as I am. You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.'
+
+'My dear Mrs. Blake, what an odd comparison!'
+
+'Oh, it just came into my head, you know; it is rather strong, but it is
+very expressive. By the bye, I was going to ask you something. Have you
+any idea on which day your mother and sister intend to call on me?'
+
+'I believe Geraldine said Tuesday or Wednesday; I really forget
+which--Wednesday, I think.'
+
+'But it might be Tuesday. Thanks. I would not willingly be out, so I
+will keep in those two days. Now, I positively must not keep you
+standing under this hedge any longer; but I feel all the better for this
+nice little talk.' And after a few more parting words Mrs. Blake went on
+her way, and Audrey unlocked the gate of Mrs. Williams' cottage.
+
+The short interview with Mrs. Blake had been satisfactory; her request
+had been granted without demur or difficulty. Mrs. Blake had shown
+herself in a sensible light. Audrey's benevolence had now a new object;
+she would spare no pains or trouble with this poor neglected child. To
+meditate fresh acts of kindness always stirred Audrey's pulses as though
+she had imbibed new wine. Her sympathetic temperament felt warmed,
+vivified, exhilarated, as she stooped to enter the low room where Rhoda
+Williams was expecting her.
+
+Audrey looked forward rather anxiously to her mother and Geraldine's
+visit. She watched them set out with secret perturbation. They were to
+call at one or two places besides, but Mrs. Ross assured her very
+seriously that they would be back to tea; and as Geraldine seemed to
+consider this as a matter of course, Audrey got over her own business as
+soon as possible, so as to be back at Woodcote at the same time.
+
+Michael had gone up to town for two or three days, and was not expected
+home until Monday. Dr. Ross rarely made his appearance in his wife's
+drawing-room until late in the evening, and, as no casual visitors
+dropped in, Audrey would be able to cross-examine them to her heart's
+content. But she knew her mother well enough to be sure that no
+questions would be needed. Even if Geraldine were inclined to be
+reserved, to keep her opinions for her husband's ear, Mrs. Ross would be
+sure to discourse very readily on her own and Geraldine's doings.
+
+'Well, my dear,' she said in her cheery way, as she entered the room,
+'here we are, as punctual as possible, and quite ready for a nice cup of
+tea. Of course Mrs. Fortescue was out--she always is--and Mrs. Cardell
+was just going out, so we would not detain her; and Mrs. Charrington had
+her room full of visitors, so we would not stay long there.'
+
+'Of course, as Lady Mountjoy was there, no one else had a chance of
+getting a word with Mrs. Charrington,' observed Geraldine, with rather a
+discontented air.
+
+'My love, I am sure Mrs. Charrington was as nice as possible to you; you
+know what a favourite you are with her. But a person like Lady Mountjoy
+is always so embarrassing to a hostess. She is so very big, Audrey, and
+seems to take up so much more room than other people; and, then, she is
+such a talker!'
+
+'So she is, mother. I don't wonder poor Mrs. Charrington found herself
+unable to talk to Gage.'
+
+'No; so we did not stay long. What was the use? Well, my dear, I daresay
+you wonder how we got on at the Gray Cottage? We had a very pleasant
+visit, on the whole--an exceedingly pleasant visit.'
+
+Audrey's face brightened; this was better than she expected.
+
+'Mrs. Blake was in. I think, from her manner, that she was expecting
+us.'
+
+'Yes; certainly we were expected,' put in Geraldine, in rather a decided
+voice.
+
+'She was in the drawing-room, and everything was as nice as possible;
+and the old servant is very respectable-looking. Mrs. Blake was doing
+some lovely embroidery in a frame. How exquisitely she works, Audrey!
+and she selects her own shades, too. That dear little Mollie was reading
+to her--French history, I think. They did look so comfortable! You are
+certainly right, my dear: Mrs. Blake is a most charming woman; she has
+very taking manners, and is altogether so bright and expressive.'
+
+'She is certainly very handsome,' observed Geraldine--'a most
+striking-looking person, as Edith says. Mother and I agreed that her son
+is very like her; but, for my own part, I prefer Mr. Blake's quiet
+manners.'
+
+'But you like her, Gage?' and Audrey looked a little anxiously at her
+sister.
+
+'I am not quite sure,' was the cautious answer. 'Mother liked her; but,
+then, mother likes everyone. She was friendly and pleasant--pointedly
+so; but, in my opinion, she is too impulsive, too outspoken altogether.
+It is not quite good form. A grown-up person should have more reticence.
+To me, Mrs. Blake is wanting in dignity.'
+
+'I think you are rather severe on her, Gage. You and Mrs. Blake are very
+different people.'
+
+'You need not tell me that. Mrs. Blake and I are at the antipodes as far
+as temperament and sympathy are concerned. You are very impulsive
+yourself, Audrey, and often speak without thought; but I do not think
+you are quite so outspoken as Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'Well, perhaps not.'
+
+'It was so unnecessary for her to tell mother, for example, that she was
+too poor to indulge her social tastes, and that she hoped her Rutherford
+neighbours would be very sparing of their invitations. It was not as
+though we had led up to it. Nothing of the sort had been said to prompt
+such an extraordinary statement. I am sure Percival would have called
+that bad form.'
+
+'How I do hate that expression!' exclaimed Audrey, rather pettishly. She
+thought Geraldine more than usually trying this afternoon.
+
+'Still, I am sure you would have agreed with me that it was most
+uncalled for. Mother was quite taken aback for a moment. She told me so
+afterwards--did you not, mother?'
+
+'Yes, dear; and, of course, it put me in a difficult position. I am sure
+I do not know what we were talking about, Audrey. I think I was saying
+something about Rutherford being a sociable little place.'
+
+'Yes; and then she interrupted you, mother, and said, in an abrupt sort
+of way, that its sociability would matter very little to her, for,
+dearly as she loved gaiety, she could not afford to indulge in it. "So I
+hope no kind neighbours will ask me to dinner, or to any kind of evening
+entertainment, for I should be obliged to refuse." Now, do you call that
+quite in good taste, Audrey?'
+
+'I think that it was, at any rate, very honest. I can see none of that
+pretentiousness that Edith Bryce led us to expect.'
+
+'I don't know,' rather doubtfully. 'Mrs. Blake is certainly not a humble
+person; she thinks a great deal of herself. At times her manner was
+almost patronising. She talks a great deal too much about her son. Of
+course she has a right to be proud of him; but it was a pity to be quite
+so gushing.'
+
+'It is useless to talk to you, Gage,' returned Audrey impatiently.
+'Edith Bryce has prejudiced you too much. You are judging Mrs. Blake
+very unfairly.'
+
+'I hope not. I do not wish to be unfair to anyone; but I must own that I
+am sorry that you have such an infatuation for her.'
+
+'I don't know about that; but I am certainly very much interested in the
+whole family.'
+
+'Yes; and I could not help observing to mother that I thought it a great
+pity. They evidently look upon you as a close friend. It was "dear Miss
+Ross" every minute from one or other of them.'
+
+'Audrey has been so good to them, you see,' returned Mrs. Ross, whose
+soft heart had been much touched by her daughter's praises. 'I am quite
+sure, Geraldine, that Mrs. Blake meant every word she said; there were
+tears in her eyes once when she mentioned how unused they were to such
+kindness. Audrey, my dear, I have asked Mrs. Blake to waive ceremony and
+come to us on Monday, and I assure you she was quite pleased. She said
+it was such a treat to her to watch tennis, and that she loved to see
+her son play. And now, of course, we must ask Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Oh yes, I suppose so.' Audrey spoke with studied indifference. 'It is a
+pity you are engaged'--turning to her sister--'for we shall have quite a
+large party.'
+
+'Yes, I am thoroughly vexed about it,' returned Geraldine, 'for Mrs.
+Charrington is coming too. I wish Mrs. Sheppard would not always fix
+Monday;' and then, after a little more talk about the arrangements for
+the tennis-party, she took her leave--Audrey, as usual, accompanying her
+to the gate.
+
+'I suppose Michael will be back for it?' was her parting question.
+
+Audrey supposed so too, but she was not quite certain of Michael's
+movements. He had said something about his intention of coming back on
+Monday, but he might alter his mind before that. Michael had not seemed
+quite like himself the day before he went to town; she was sure
+something had harassed him. Geraldine hoped fervently that this was not
+the case; she never liked dear old Michael to be troubled about
+anything. And then the two sisters kissed each other very
+affectionately. Audrey always forgave Geraldine her little vexing
+proprieties and tiresome habit of managing everyone when she felt her
+loving kiss on her cheek.
+
+'After all, there are only we two,' she thought, as she walked back to
+the house. 'I must not magnify Gage's little faults, for she is a dear
+woman.'
+
+And Geraldine's thoughts were quite as affectionate.
+
+'I hope I have not vexed her too much about this new _protégée_ of
+hers,' she said to herself, 'but one cannot pretend to like a person.
+Audrey is a darling, and I would not hurt her for the world. After all,
+she is a much better Christian than I am;' and then she had a long,
+comfortable talk with her husband, in which she indemnified herself for
+any previous restraint.
+
+'It is so nice to be able to tell you everything, Percy dear!' she
+exclaimed, as the dressing gong warned her to close the conversation.
+
+'That is the good of having a husband,' he replied, as he put his books
+together and prepared to follow her.
+
+Michael did not return in time for the tennis-party, but Audrey could
+only give him a regretful thought--so many people were coming that her
+hands were quite full. She was busy until luncheon time, and Geraldine
+good-naturedly came down from Hillside to offer her help, and had to
+submit to an anxious lecture from her mother on her imprudence in coming
+out in the heat. Audrey had scarcely time to change her dress before the
+first guest arrived. Mrs. Blake came early; her son was still engaged
+with his scholastic duties, and would make his appearance later; but he
+had not allowed her to wait for him. Audrey saw her coming through the
+gate, and went at once to meet her.
+
+'Well, Miss Ross, I am making my début,' she said gaily; 'have I come
+too early? Do tell me which is the schoolroom window; I want to know
+where my boy sits; he said he should look out for me.'
+
+Audrey suggested rather gravely that they should walk along the terrace:
+her mother was on the lawn with Mrs. Charrington. She thought Mrs. Blake
+looked exceedingly nice in her thin black dress and little close bonnet;
+nothing could be simpler, and perhaps nothing would have suited her
+half so well. Audrey felt sure that everyone would admire her; and she
+was right. Mrs. Charrington fell in love with her at first sight, and to
+Audrey's great amusement her father paid her the most marked attention.
+
+'My dear, do tell me who that lady in black is,' inquired Gertrude
+Fortescue, catching hold of Audrey's arm; 'she is perfectly lovely. What
+magnificent hair she has, and what a sweet smile! Papa is talking to her
+now, and Mrs. Charrington is on her other side.'
+
+'Oh, that is Mrs. Blake--you know her son, Gertrude.'
+
+'Mr. Blake's mother! why, she looks quite young enough to be his sister.
+I wish you would introduce me, Audrey; I have quite lost my heart to
+her.'
+
+'I have brought you another admirer, Mrs. Blake,' observed Audrey
+mischievously, while Gertrude Fortescue turned red and looked foolish.
+Mrs. Blake received the young lady with one of her charming smiles.
+
+'Everyone is so kind,' she murmured; 'I am having such a happy
+afternoon, Miss Ross. I won't tell you what I think of Dr. Ross--I
+positively dare not; and Mrs. Charrington, too, has been as nice as
+possible.'
+
+'And now Gertrude means to be nice, too,' returned Audrey brightly.
+'Good-bye for the present; I have to play with Mr. Blake, and he is
+waiting for me;' and she hurried away.
+
+What a successful afternoon it was! Mrs. Blake was certainly making her
+mark among the Rutherford people; no one in their senses could have
+found fault with her manners. She was perfectly good-humoured and at her
+ease; she had a pleasant word and smile for everybody.
+
+'One would have imagined that all these strangers would have made her
+nervous,' thought Audrey; but it needed a close observer to detect any
+mark of uneasiness in Mrs. Blake's voice or manner. Now and then there
+might be a slight flush, an involuntary movement of the well-gloved
+hands, a quick start or turn of the head, if anyone suddenly addressed
+her; but no one would have noticed these little symptoms.
+
+'Your mother seems to be enjoying herself,' observed Audrey, as she
+joined Cyril and they walked across the lawn together.
+
+'Yes,' he returned, with a pleased look; 'she is quite happy.'
+
+'Let us sit where we can see my son and Miss Ross play!' exclaimed Mrs.
+Blake, rising as she spoke. 'Look! there are chairs on that side of the
+lawn. What a well-matched couple they are!--both play so well. Miss Ross
+is not as handsome as her sister--Mrs. Harcourt is an exceedingly fine
+young woman, and one seldom sees such a complexion in the present
+day--but, in my humble opinion, Miss Ross is far more charming.'
+
+'Do you think so? We are all very fond of Geraldine, and--oh yes, Audrey
+is very nice too,' returned Miss Fortescue a little absently. She was
+considered handsome herself, and it struck her with some degree of
+wonderment that the afternoon was half over and Mr. Blake had not asked
+her to play tennis.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+'I AM SORRY YOU ASKED THE QUESTION'
+
+     'Thou must not be hurt at a well-meaning friend, though he shake
+     thee somewhat roughly by the shoulder to awake thee.'
+
+                                               _Quentin Durward._
+
+
+Half an hour later Audrey had finished her game, and had resisted all
+her partner's pleadings to give their opponents their revenge. She might
+feel tempted--Mr. Blake played so splendidly--but she knew her duty to
+her guests better than that.
+
+'You must get another partner,' she said, with something of her sister's
+decision. 'Here is Miss Fortescue; she has been sitting out a long time,
+and she is a very good player. Gertrude'--raising her voice--'Mr. Blake
+wants a partner. I am sure you will take pity on him.' And in this
+manner Gertrude obtained her wish.
+
+Perhaps she would rather have had her desire gratified in a different
+manner--if Mr. Blake had asked her himself, for example. She was not
+quite pleased at the tone in which he professed himself delighted to
+play with Miss Fortescue; he fetched her racket a little reluctantly,
+when Audrey pointed it out, and there was certainly no enthusiasm
+visible in his manner as he suggested that Miss Cardell and her partner
+were waiting for them.
+
+'Do you know where my mother and Miss Ross have gone?' he asked, as they
+took their place.
+
+'Mrs. Blake asked Miss Ross to show her the pond. They are waiting for
+you to serve, Mr. Blake;' and then Cyril did consent to throw himself
+into the game. Miss Fortescue was a good-looking girl, and played well,
+but she was not Miss Ross; nevertheless, Cyril had no intention of
+accepting a beating, and he was soon playing as brilliantly as ever.
+
+Meanwhile, Mrs. Blake was talking after her usual rapid fashion.
+
+'What beautiful grounds! and so tastefully laid out, too. I have never
+seen such a garden. I do love this succession of terraces, and those
+trees with white leaves just striped with pink--what do you call them,
+Miss Ross?'
+
+Audrey told her they were white maple.
+
+'Dear me! Did Dr. Ross plant them? They do look so well against that
+dark background of trees. Everything is in such perfect taste and order,
+and Cyril says it is the same in the house. The Bryces' establishment
+was not half so well regulated. He declares Dr. Ross has a master-mind,
+and, now I have talked to him, I am quite sure Cyril is right.'
+
+'You must not expect me to contradict you. I think there is no one like
+my father.'
+
+'I daresay not. He is charming--positively charming! So this is the pond
+Kester and Mollie rave about? What a sweet little place--so still and so
+retired! But of course you can see the house from it. Is not that your
+cousin, Captain Burnett?'--as they came in sight of the bench. 'It is
+very much like him.'
+
+'Yes, of course it is Michael!' and Audrey quickened her steps in
+surprise. 'My dear Michael, when did you get back? No one knows of your
+arrival.'
+
+'I daresay not,' he returned somewhat gravely, as he shook hands with
+her and bowed to Mrs. Blake. 'I only got in half an hour ago, and,
+having no mind to mingle with the crowd, I sat here to get cool.'
+
+'Have you had some tea, Michael?'
+
+'Oh yes; Parker brought me some. Never mind me. How have you been
+getting on?' looking at her attentively.
+
+'Oh, very well.' But Audrey blushed a little uneasily under that kind
+look. 'Mrs. Blake, I believe you have not met my cousin before?'
+
+'I think we have met, Audrey.'
+
+'To be sure we have!' responded Mrs. Blake, with her brightest smile. 'I
+am so glad of this opportunity of speaking to you, Captain Burnett. I
+hope Miss Ross gave you my message?'
+
+'I don't believe I have had any message--have I, Audrey?' And Audrey
+laughed a little guiltily; she did not always remember people's
+messages.
+
+Mrs. Blake shook her head at her.
+
+'Oh, you traitress!' she exclaimed playfully. 'And I thought you, of all
+people, were to be trusted. Captain Burnett, I must give my own message.
+I want to thank you for your kindness to my poor boy.'
+
+'He is not poor at all,' he replied lightly; but his keen blue eyes
+seemed to take the measure, mental and physical, of the graceful-looking
+woman before him. 'He is a very clever fellow, and will make his mark. I
+can assure you I quite envy him his brains.'
+
+'It makes me so proud to hear you say that. I often wonder why my
+children are so clever; their father'--she checked herself, and then
+went on in a more subdued key--'my poor husband had only average
+talents, and as for me----' She left her sentence unfinished in a most
+expressive way.
+
+'Mollie says you are clever too, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'My dear Miss Ross, then Mollie--bless her little heart!--is wrong. Is
+it my fault if those foolish children choose to swear by their mother?
+Cleverness does not consist in chattering a little French and
+Italian--does it, Captain Burnett? You and I know better than that, and
+it will always be a lasting wonder to me why I have a son like my
+Cyril.'
+
+'You have two sons, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+Something indefinable in Michael's tone made Mrs. Blake redden for a
+moment; then she recovered herself.
+
+'Yes, thank God! I have; but a widow's eldest son is always her prop.
+Kester is a mere boy; he cannot help his mother much yet.'
+
+'Kester is nearly sixteen, and will soon be a man; he is already very
+thoughtful for his age. I am sure you will permit me to say that I
+already take great interest in him; he has a wonderful thirst for
+knowledge. I showed one of his translations to Dr. Ross, and he was
+quite struck by it. You know, Dr. Ross is a fine Greek scholar.'
+
+Mrs. Blake seemed much impressed; she was evidently taken aback. She was
+generally so absorbed in her eldest son that she failed to give Kester
+his due. The boy was shy and retiring with her; very likely he felt
+himself unappreciated. Anyhow, it was certain that he sought sympathy
+from everyone but his mother; and yet, in her own way, she was kind to
+him.
+
+Audrey was a little disappointed to find Michael so grave in his manner
+to her charming friend--for such she already considered Mrs. Blake.
+Michael was generally so nice and genial with people; he did not seem in
+the least aware that he was talking to a pretty woman. In Audrey's
+opinion, he seemed disposed to pick holes in Mrs. Blake's words and to
+find matter for argument. Not that this would be apparent to anyone but
+herself; but then she knew Michael so well. She could always tell in a
+moment if he approved or disapproved of anyone. One thing was clear
+enough to her, that Mrs. Blake was not at her ease. She lost her gay
+fluency, and hesitated for a word now and then; and when they left the
+lake and walked towards the tennis-ground, and Cyril intercepted them,
+she gave him an appealing look to draw him to her side. But for once
+Cyril was blind to his mother's wishes. He shook hands with Captain
+Burnett, and then fell behind to speak to Audrey.
+
+'Do you mean to say that you have finished your game already?' she
+asked, in some surprise.
+
+'No, indeed; only Mrs. Fortescue discovered that it was late, and took
+her daughter away, and, of course, I could not beat them
+single-handed--Wheeler is a crack player--so we made up our mind to
+consider it a drawn game. You ought not to have thrown me over, Miss
+Ross,' dropping his voice; 'it was hardly kind, was it?'
+
+'Would you have me play with you and neglect all my other guests?' she
+returned, smiling. 'I think you owe me some gratitude for providing you
+with a partner like Gertrude Fortescue. She is one of our best players.'
+
+'I would rather have kept the partner I had,' he replied, with unwonted
+obstinacy; 'even in tennis one prefers one's own selection. I played the
+first set far better.'
+
+'I believe you are a little cross with me, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'I!' startled by this accusation, although it was playfully made, and
+reddening to his temples; 'I have no right to take such a liberty. No
+man in his senses could be cross with you for a moment.'
+
+'You are wrong. Michael is often cross with me.'
+
+'Is he?' slackening his pace, and so compelling her to do the same,
+until there were several yards between them and the couple in front.
+'Captain Burnett seems to me far too good-natured; I should have said
+there was not a spark of temper about him. I am rather hasty myself.'
+
+'I am so glad you have warned me in time, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Why, do you meditate any special provocation?' Then, catching sight of
+her dimple, his own face relaxed. 'I see you are laughing at me. I am
+afraid I was not properly gracious to Miss Fortescue. I will make up for
+it on Thursday at the Charringtons', and ask her to play. You will be
+there?' with a note of anxiety in his voice.
+
+'Oh yes; I shall be there, of course.'
+
+'We must have one set together; you will promise me that?' and Cyril's
+dark eyes looked full into hers.
+
+'Yes, certainly.' But Audrey blushed a little. She felt a sudden desire
+to hurry after the others; but her companion evidently held a different
+opinion.
+
+'Do you know Mrs. Charrington has asked my mother to come too?'
+
+'No, indeed; but I am so glad to hear it.'
+
+'She was most kind about it: she has promised to call on her to-morrow.
+My mother is so pleased. Does she not look happy, Miss Ross? She is so
+fond of this sort of thing--a dull life never suits her. She nearly
+moped herself to death at Headingly; we were all uncomfortable there.'
+
+'I think she will get on with the Rutherford people.'
+
+'Indeed I hope so. Miss Ross, do you know, I am so vexed about something
+my mother said the other afternoon, when Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Harcourt
+were calling on her.' And as Audrey looked mystified, he went on slowly:
+'She actually told them that she would accept no evening engagements,
+and that she hoped no one would invite her to dinner.'
+
+'Oh yes, I remember.'
+
+'I am afraid they must have thought it very strange. I tell my mother
+that she is far too frank and outspoken for our civilised age, and that
+there is not the slightest need to flaunt our poverty in our neighbours'
+faces.'
+
+Cyril spoke with an air of unmistakable annoyance, and Audrey
+good-naturedly hastened to soothe him. Her fine instinct told her that
+his stronger and more reticent nature must often be wounded by his
+mother's indiscreet tongue.
+
+'I am afraid you are a little worldly-minded, Mr. Blake. I consider your
+mother was far more honest.'
+
+'Thank you,' in a low tone; 'but all the same,' returning to his usual
+manner, 'it was premature and absurd to make such a statement. My mother
+has to do as I like,' throwing back his handsome head with a sort of
+wilfulness that Audrey thought very becoming, 'and I intend her to go
+out. Miss Ross, I am going to ask you a very odd question, but there is
+no other lady to whom I can put such an inquiry. Does it cost so very
+much--I mean, how much does it cost--for a lady to be properly dressed
+for the evening?'
+
+Audrey did not dare to laugh, Cyril was so evidently in earnest; her
+nice tact guarded her from making such a grievous mistake.
+
+'Your question is a little vague, Mr. Blake; I hardly know what I am to
+understand by it. Do you mean evening dress for one dinner-party or a
+succession of dinner-parties? You know they are perpetual in Rutherford;
+every house invites every other house to dinner. In Rutherford we are
+terribly given to dining out.'
+
+'Oh, I see; and relays of gowns would be required,' returned Cyril in a
+dejected voice. 'I am afraid I must give it up, then. My mother would
+certainly not be able to afford that for the present.'
+
+'But when one wears black, a change of dress is not so necessary,'
+interrupted Audrey eagerly. 'If I were poor, I should not allow poverty
+to debar me from the society of my fellow-creatures, just because I
+could not make as great a display as other people. No, indeed; I would
+not be the slave of my clothes.'
+
+'I can believe that,' with an admiring glance.
+
+'I would have one good black dress--and it should be as nice as my means
+would allow--and I would wear it everywhere, and I would not care a bit
+if people looked as though they recognised it. "You are noticing my
+gown!" I would say to them. "Yes, it is an old friend. Old friends are
+better than new, and I mean to cling to mine. By and by, when I am a
+little richer, I will buy another."'
+
+'Miss Ross, if my mother could but hear you!'
+
+'Tell her what I say, and bid her do the same. Black suits her so
+perfectly, too.'
+
+'Oh, she never means to wear anything else but black,' he returned
+gravely.
+
+'Let her get a soft silk--a Surah, for example--and if it be made
+prettily and in the newest fashion, it will look well for a long time.
+Yes'--reflectively--'Mrs. Blake would look well in Surah.'
+
+'Would she? Do you mind telling me how to spell it?' and Cyril produced
+his pocket-book.
+
+'S-u-r-a-h.'
+
+'Thank you a thousand times, Miss Ross! And about the cost--would five
+pounds do?' looking at her anxiously.
+
+'Oh yes, I should say that would do,' replied Audrey, who in reality
+knew very little about it.
+
+Mr. Blake would have done better to have consulted Geraldine, she
+thought. Geraldine would have told him the price to a fraction of a
+shilling; she would have directed him to the best shop for making an
+excellent bargain. Geraldine had a genius for these practical things,
+whereas she--Audrey--was liable to make mistakes.
+
+'I am sure five pounds will do,' she repeated, by way of encouragement;
+and again Cyril thanked her fervently.
+
+There was no more opportunity for carrying on this interesting
+discussion, for the others were now standing quite still in the
+shrubbery walk, waiting for them to join them.
+
+'My dearest boy, everyone has gone!' exclaimed Mrs. Blake, in a tone of
+dismay. 'The tennis-lawn is empty!'
+
+'What does that matter?' replied Audrey, hastening up to her with a
+heightened colour, as she noticed a quick, observant look on Michael's
+part. 'We have no rule for our Mondays; people come when they like, and
+stay as long as they like.'
+
+'But, still, to be the last to go, and this my first visit to Woodcote!'
+rejoined Mrs. Blake uneasily. 'Cyril, you ought to have taken me away
+long ago.'
+
+'We will make our adieux now,' he returned carelessly, and not at all
+affected by his mother's discomposure. 'Come, mother, I see Mrs. Ross
+standing in the drawing-room window; she is evidently waiting for us.'
+And Cyril drew his mother's hand through his arm.
+
+Audrey and Michael followed them to the gate. Mrs. Blake kissed Audrey
+with some effusion. Audrey, who, in spite of her large heart and wide
+sympathies, was not a demonstrative person, would willingly have
+dispensed with this little attention before the gentlemen. Mrs. Blake
+had never offered to embrace her before. She had an idea, too, that
+Cyril was not quite pleased.
+
+'Come, come, mother,' he said impatiently, 'we are detaining Miss Ross;'
+and he hurried her away.
+
+Audrey would have returned to the house at once, but Michael asked her
+to take another turn in the shrubbery.
+
+'For I have not seen you for a whole week,' he grumbled; 'and it is
+hardly possible to get a word with you now.'
+
+'Well, you have me now,' she returned with assumed gaiety; but all the
+time she wanted to be alone and think what Mr. Blake's parting look
+meant. 'It was so--so----' Audrey could not quite find the word. 'And
+now, Michael, I am ready.' Audrey was going to say, 'I am ready to hear
+your opinion of Mrs. Blake;' but just at that moment she saw her father
+coming to meet them.
+
+Two is company, but three is none, as both Michael and Audrey felt at
+that moment. Dr. Ross, on the contrary, joined them with the air of a
+man who knows himself to be an acquisition. He tucked his daughter's
+hand under his arm, and began questioning Michael about his week in
+town.
+
+As it happened, Michael had seen and done a good deal, and Audrey was
+soon interested in what he had to tell them. She knew all Michael's
+friends by name, and in this way could claim acquaintance with a large
+circle. She was soon busily questioning him in her turn. Had he seen
+that pretty little Mrs. Maddox? and was the baby christened? and who was
+the second godfather? and so on, until the gong warned them to disperse.
+
+The conversation at dinner ran on the same topics, but just before they
+rose from the table Mrs. Ross asked Michael if he did not admire Mrs.
+Blake.
+
+'Very much, indeed,' he returned, without a moment's hesitation. 'She
+has three very excellent points for a woman: she is pretty, lively, and
+amusing. I had quite a long talk with her.' And then he changed the
+subject--whether intentionally or unintentionally Audrey could not
+tell--and began telling them about a picture one of his friends was
+painting for the next Exhibition.
+
+Michael was very much engaged the next few days. He had told Kester to
+come to him every morning that week, to make up for the lessons he had
+lost, and as a succession of garden-parties occupied Audrey's
+afternoons, she did not find time for one of those confidential chats
+with Michael which they both so much enjoyed. When Thursday came Michael
+escorted her to the Charringtons' garden-party. Mrs. Ross and her
+husband were to come later.
+
+Audrey was amongst the tennis-players, but, as she passed to and fro
+with her various partners, she saw Michael more than once talking to
+Mrs. Blake. The first time he gave her a nod and a smile, but when she
+passed them again he seemed too much engrossed with Mrs. Blake's lively
+conversation to notice her.
+
+Audrey had just finished her second game with Mr. Blake, and he was
+taking her to the house in search of refreshments. As Audrey ate her
+strawberries, she wondered a little over Michael's abstraction.
+
+'He certainly seems to admire her,' she said to herself.
+
+Michael and she were to dine at Hillside that evening, and as they
+walked home together in the summer moonlight Audrey bethought herself at
+last of asking that question.
+
+'Michael, I want you to tell me what you think of Mrs. Blake? I am quite
+sure you like her very much indeed.'
+
+'You are wrong, then. I wonder what put such a notion in your
+head--because I was talking to her so much this afternoon? That was more
+her fault than mine. No, Audrey; I am sorry to say it, but I do not like
+Mrs. Blake at all.'
+
+'Michael!' and Audrey stood still in the road. This was a shock indeed!
+She was prepared for criticism: Michael always criticised her friends;
+he felt it a part of his duty; but this utter disapprobation was so
+unexpected; it was crushing--absolutely crushing! Michael, too, whose
+opinion she trusted so entirely! 'Oh, I hope you don't mean it--that you
+are only joking,' she said, so earnestly that he felt a little sorry for
+his abruptness; but it was too late to retract; besides, Michael never
+retracted.
+
+'I am sorry you asked me the question; but I am bound to tell you the
+truth, you know.'
+
+'And is it really the truth?' she asked a little piteously. 'It is very
+soon for you to have made up your mind that you do not like her; why,
+you have only spoken to her twice.'
+
+'Yes; but I have had plenty of time to form my opinion of her. Look
+here, Audrey, you must not be vexed with me. I would not have found
+fault with your fair friend if you had not asked my opinion. Of course I
+admire her; one has seldom seen a prettier woman, and her style is so
+uncommon, too.'
+
+'Don't, Michael; you will be praising her hair and complexion next, as
+Gertrude Fortescue did the other afternoon. It is the woman, Mrs. Blake
+herself, I want you to like.'
+
+'Ah, just so!'
+
+'And now I am so disappointed. Somehow I never enjoy my friends quite so
+much if you do not care for them. I thought we always liked the same
+people, but now----' Here Audrey stopped. She felt vexed and mortified;
+she did want Michael to share her interest in the Blakes.
+
+'And now you will look on me as a broken reed; but, after all, I am not
+so bad. I like Kester--he is a fine fellow; and I like your little
+friend Mollie--she is true as steel; and,' after a moment's pause, 'I
+like Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Are you quite sure of that, Michael?'
+
+'Yes, I am quite sure of it. If I know anything of human nature, Mr.
+Blake is worthy of my esteem: as far as any man is good, he is good. And
+then he has such splendid capabilities.'
+
+Audrey felt vaguely that this was generous on Michael's part; and yet
+she could not have told herself why it was generous. If she had had an
+idea of the truth! But as yet she was only dimly conscious of the
+nobility of Michael's nature.
+
+'Mr. Blake is clever,' he continued, 'but he does not think much of
+himself; it is rare to find such modesty in a young man of the present
+day. Still, he is very young; one can hardly tell what he may become.'
+
+'Father says he is three-and-twenty, Michael.'
+
+'Still, Audrey, a man's character is not always fully developed at
+three-and-twenty; at that age I was a conceited cub. I am
+seven-and-thirty now, and I feel my opinions are as settled as Dr.
+Ross's are.'
+
+'I wish you would not always talk as though you were father's
+contemporary; it is so absurd, Michael, when everyone else thinks you a
+young man!'
+
+'I am a very old young man,' he returned with a whimsical smile; 'I have
+aged prematurely, and my wisdom has developed at the same rapid rate.
+Amongst my other gifts I have that of second-sight.'
+
+'Indeed!' with incredulous scorn. 'You are not very humble in your own
+estimation.'
+
+'My dear, old young men are never humble. Well, my gift of second-sight
+has put me up to a thing or two. Do you know,' turning away and
+switching the hedgerows carelessly as he spoke, 'I should be very sorry
+if any girl in whom I took a deep interest were to be thrown too much
+into Mr. Blake's company.'
+
+Audrey faced round on her cousin in extreme surprise.
+
+'You are very incomprehensible to-night, Michael: at one moment you
+praise Mr. Blake, and say nice things about him, and the next minute you
+are warning people against becoming intimate with him--that is surely
+very inconsistent.'
+
+'Oh, there is method in my madness,' he returned quietly. 'I have
+nothing to say against the young man himself. As far as I can tell,
+there is no harm in him; but he is so young, and is such a devoted son,
+that he is likely to be influenced by his mother.'
+
+'And it is on her account that you would dislike any such intimacy? Oh,
+Michael,' very sorrowfully, 'I had no idea you would dislike her so!'
+
+'It seems rather unreasonable--such a pretty woman, too. On the whole, I
+think I do like talking to her, she is so amusing. But, Audrey, I must
+say one thing: you are always talking about her frankness. Now, I do not
+agree with you.'
+
+'I don't understand you, Michael. I have never known anyone so
+outspoken.'
+
+'Outspoken--yes. Well, I will explain myself. You are frank, Audrey; you
+hide nothing, because there is nothing to hide; and if there were, you
+would not hide it. Now, Mrs. Blake has her reserves; with all her
+impulsiveness, she has thorough self-command, and would never say a word
+more than suited her own purposes. It is her pleasure to indulge in a
+wild, picturesque sort of talk; it is effective, and pleases people; and
+Mrs. Blake, in common with other pretty women, likes to please. There is
+no positive harm in it--perhaps not, but it detracts from reality.'
+
+'But, Michael, I like to please people too.'
+
+'Certainly you do. Have I not often called you a little hypocrite for
+pretending to like what other people like! How often have we fallen out
+on that point! But you and Mrs. Blake are very different people, my
+dear; with all your faults, your friends would not wish to see you
+changed.'
+
+But the dark shade of the shrubbery walk they were just entering hid the
+strangely tender look that was in Michael's eyes as he said the last
+words.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+MRS. BLAKE HAS HER NEW GOWN
+
+     'Thou art a girl of noble nature's crowning:
+     A smile of thine is like an act of grace;
+     Thou hast no noisome looks, no pretty frowning,
+     Like daily beauties of a vulgar race.
+     When thou dost smile, a light is on thy face,
+     A clear, cool kindliness, a lunar beam
+     Of peaceful radiance, silvering o'er the stream
+     Of human thought with beauteous glory,
+     Not quite a waking truth, nor quite a dream:
+     A visitation--bright though transitory.'
+
+                                HARTLEY COLERIDGE.
+
+
+Audrey was much disappointed by the result of her conversation with her
+cousin. It was true that Michael had tried to efface the severity of his
+own words by remarking that a third interview might somewhat alter his
+opinion of the fascinating widow--that he might even grow to like her in
+time. Audrey knew better. Michael had a certain genius of intuition; he
+made up his mind about people at once, and she had never known him to
+reverse his decision. As far as regarded the younger members of the
+Blake family, they would still be able to work happily together. Michael
+was certainly much interested in Kester; he had adopted him in the same
+manner as she had adopted Mollie. It was a comfort also that he approved
+of Mr. Blake. Michael had spoken of him with decided approval, and
+without any stint or limit of praise; nevertheless she was well aware
+that Michael would willingly have restricted their intimacy, and that he
+saw with some reluctance her father's growing partiality for the young
+master.
+
+Audrey had only spoken the simple truth when she owned that Michael's
+approval was necessary to her perfect enjoyment of her friend. She might
+still maintain her own opinions of Mrs. Blake. Nevertheless, the first
+fine flavour of her pleasure had been destroyed by Michael's severe
+criticism; the delicate bloom had been impaired. She would hold fast to
+her new friend; she would even be kinder to her, as though to make up
+for other people's hard speeches; but much of her enthusiasm must be
+locked in her own breast.
+
+'What is the use of talking on a subject on which we should only
+disagree?' she said to him a week or two afterwards, when he had rebuked
+her playfully for not telling him something. 'It was only a trifling
+matter connected with Mrs. Blake.'
+
+And when he heard that, Michael held his peace. He had been thrown
+constantly into Mrs. Blake's company since their first meeting, but as
+yet he had not seen fit to change his opinions.
+
+But in spite of this little rift in her perfect harmony, Audrey
+thoroughly enjoyed the next month; she was almost sorry that the
+vacation was so near. It had been a very gay month. Relays of
+visitors--distant relations or mere friends--had been invited to
+Woodcote and Hillside. Mrs. Ross's garden-party had rivalled Mrs.
+Charrington's, and there had been a succession of picnics, driving
+parties, and small select dinners at all the Hill houses. But in spite
+of her many engagements--her afternoons on the cricket-field, the tennis
+tournament, in which she and Cyril Blake won, and various other
+gaieties--Audrey had not neglected Mollie. Twice a week she devoted an
+hour and a half to her pupil. When the music-lesson was over, Audrey
+would read French with her or correct her exercises. She was a very
+conscientious mistress, and would not allow Mollie to waste any of her
+time in idle gossip. When she was putting away her books, Mollie's
+voluble tongue would make amends for the enforced silence.
+
+'Oh, Miss Ross,' she exclaimed one day, 'do you know, Cyril has given
+mamma such a beautiful present! You will never guess what it is!'
+
+Audrey prudently refrained from any guesses; besides, she was still
+correcting Mollie's translation.
+
+'It is a black silk dress--a real beauty, as mamma says. She has
+borrowed Miss Marshall's last copy of the Queen, and she means to make
+it up herself. Mamma is so clever! It is to have a long train; at least,
+a moderately long train, and an open bodice--open in front, you
+know--with tulle folds. Oh, I forget exactly; but mamma explained it to
+me so nicely!'
+
+'It was very kind of your brother,' observed Audrey gravely.
+
+For once Mollie was not checked.
+
+'Yes; isn't he a darling for thinking of it? He went to Attenborough
+himself and chose it, and mamma thought he was on the cricket-field all
+the time. He got her a pair of long gloves, too. Cyril always thinks of
+everything. Mamma cried when she opened the parcel, she was so pleased;
+and then Cyril laughed at her. The worst of it is'--and here Mollie's
+face lengthened a little--'Kester will have to wait for his new suit,
+and the poor boy is so shabby! Cyril went up to his room to tell him so;
+because his leg was so painful, he had gone to bed early. Of course,
+Kester said he did not mind a bit, and he would much rather that mamma
+had her new gown and could go out and enjoy herself; but, all the same,
+it is a little hard for Kester, is it not?'
+
+'I don't think boys care about their clothes quite so much as girls do.'
+
+'Oh, but Kester does; he is almost as particular as Cyril. He does love
+to have everything nice, and I know he is ashamed of that old jacket. He
+has outgrown it, too, and the sleeves are so short; and now he is so
+much with Captain Burnett, he feels it all the more. Oh, do you know,
+Miss Ross'--interrupting herself--'Captain Burnett is going to drive
+Kester to Brail in his dogcart!'
+
+'That will be very nice. But, Mollie, you really must leave off
+chattering; you have translated this sentence quite wrongly. This is not
+one bit the sense.' And Mollie did at last consent to hold her tongue.
+
+Audrey took her mother into her confidence that afternoon as they were
+dining together, and told her the whole story about the black silk
+dress. Mrs. Ross was much interested.
+
+'How very nice of him!' she said, in just the sympathetic tone that
+Audrey expected to hear. 'I said from the first that I liked Mr. Blake;
+I told your father so. He is a good son. I am not a bit surprised that
+his mother dotes on him. I am sure I should if he were my son;' and Mrs.
+Ross heaved a gentle little sigh under her lace mantle.
+
+She knew her husband had ardently desired a son, and, until Michael's
+troubles had made him almost an inmate of the house, there had been a
+certain void and unfulfilled longing in Dr. Ross's breast. Not that he
+ever spoke of such things; but his wife knew him so well.
+
+'Perhaps one day he will have a grandson,' she thought; for her motherly
+imagination loved to stretch itself into the future.
+
+'Don't you think we might ask Mrs. Blake to dinner next week, when your
+cousin Rose is here?' she observed presently. 'Rosie will be charmed
+with her; and we could get the Cardells to meet her, and perhaps the
+Vicar and Mrs. Boyle. You know they have not been to dine with us for a
+long time.'
+
+'Very well, mother. I have not the slightest objection,' returned
+Audrey, who had in fact been leading up to this. 'I suppose you will ask
+Gage too?'
+
+'Oh, of course!' for Mrs. Ross never considered any party complete
+without the presence of her eldest daughter. 'We must find out which day
+will suit her best.'
+
+'I do not believe Percival will let her come,' returned Audrey calmly.
+'He says she is going out too much, and tiring herself dreadfully. I
+heard him tell her that he meant to be more strict with her for the
+future.'
+
+'Dear Percival, how good he is to her! I always told your father that he
+would make her an excellent husband. Your father was not a bit
+enthusiastic at first--he liked Percival, and thought him an exceedingly
+able man; but he never did think anyone good enough for his girls. You
+will find him hard to please when your turn comes, Audrey.'
+
+'My turn will be long in coming,' she replied lightly. 'Well, if
+Percival prove himself a tyrant, whom do you mean to have in Gage's
+place?' And then they resumed the subject of the dinner-party.
+
+Things turned out as Audrey predicted: Mr. Harcourt would not allow his
+wife to accept her mother's invitation.
+
+'She has been over-exerting herself, and must keep quiet,' he said to
+his mother-in-law when he next saw her at Hillside. 'I tell her that
+unless she is prudent, and takes things more quietly, she will not be
+fit for her journey to Scotland--and then all our plans will be upset.'
+
+For a charming arrangement had been made for the summer vacation. Dr.
+Ross had taken a cottage in the Highlands for his family, and Mr.
+Harcourt had secured a smaller one, about half a mile off, for himself
+and his wife. Michael was to form part of the Ross household, and during
+the last week or two he and Audrey had been putting their heads together
+over a benevolent scheme for taking Kester. There was a spare room in
+their cottage, and Mrs. Ross had asked Audrey if she would like one of
+her cousins to accompany them. Audrey had hesitated for the moment.
+Mollie had been in her thoughts, but when she had hinted at this to
+Michael, he had said somewhat decidedly that, in his opinion, Kester
+ought to be the one to have the treat.
+
+'He would be company for me, too,' he added, 'when you and your father
+go on your fishing expeditions. And he will not be a bad third, either,
+when you honour us with your company.'
+
+Audrey had a great wish to take Mollie. She thought how the girl would
+enjoy those long rambles across the purple moors, but she was open to
+reason: as Michael had pointed out to her, Kester certainly needed the
+change more than Mollie. It would be good for Michael to have a
+companion when she and her father and Percival went on one of their long
+expeditions. The boy had been drooping sadly of late--the heat tried
+him--and, as Audrey knew, Biddy's homely dishes seldom tempted his
+sickly appetite.
+
+Mr. Harcourt was not aware of this little plan. When he uttered his
+marital protest Geraldine looked at her mother with a sort of resigned
+despair.
+
+'You hear what Percy says, mother. I suppose you must ask someone else
+in my place.'
+
+'But I am not going without you,' returned her husband good-naturedly.
+'Your mother would not want me, my dear, under those circumstances. We
+will stay at home, like Darby and Joan, by our own ingle-side.'
+
+'Oh, then you can ask the Drummonds,' went on Geraldine, in a relieved
+voice. 'Audrey ought to have reminded you of them, but she seems to
+think only of the Blakes. I suppose you will be obliged to ask Mr.
+Blake, too, mother?'
+
+'Yes, certainly, my dear. Mrs. Blake would not like to come without her
+son. It will be a large party, but----'
+
+'Well, it cannot be helped, I suppose; but Percy and I think it is
+rather a pity----' Here Geraldine gave a slight cough, warned by a look
+from her husband.
+
+'What is a pity, my dear?'
+
+'Oh, it does not matter--at least, Percy does not wish me to speak.'
+
+'Geraldine is rather like the dog in the manger,' interrupted Mr.
+Harcourt. 'Because I will not let her come to your dinner-party, she
+would rather you did not have one at all. That is it, isn't it, Jerry?'
+
+Mrs. Ross smiled benevolently at this little sally. She liked to hear
+her son-in-law's jokes. She never joked Geraldine herself, and so she
+seldom saw that girlish blush that was so becoming.
+
+When she had taken her leave, Geraldine said to her husband:
+
+'Why did you stop me just now when I was dropping that hint about Mr.
+Blake?'
+
+'Because I thought the hint premature, my dear,' he returned drily, 'and
+because it is not our place to warn Mr. Blake off the premises; he is
+not the first young man, and I do not expect he will be the last, to
+admire Audrey.'
+
+'But, Percy, I am quite sure that Mr. Blake is too handsome and too
+attractive altogether to be a harmless admirer.'
+
+'Pooh! nonsense, my love. Don't let your imagination run away with you.
+Audrey is too sensible a girl to let herself fall in love with a young
+fellow like Blake. Now shall I go on with our book?' For that day
+Geraldine was considered an invalid, and as her husband thought fit to
+indulge and make much of her, she was not so sure she disliked her
+passing indisposition, any more than Mr. Harcourt disliked playing Darby
+to his handsome Joan.
+
+The dinner-party passed off well, and Mrs. Blake looked so lovely in her
+new gown that she made quite a sensation, and the Vicar observed to his
+wife afterwards 'that she was the nicest and most agreeable woman he had
+met for a long time.'
+
+Mrs. Boyle received this eulogium a little coldly. She was a fat, dumpy
+little person, with a round, good-natured face that had once been
+pretty. 'Bernard might admire Mrs. Blake,' she said to herself,--'she
+was the sort of woman men always raved about; but for her part she was
+not sure she admired her style,' but she had the rare magnanimity to
+keep her opinions to herself. Mrs. Boyle never contradicted her husband
+after the peevish manner of some wives.
+
+The term was drawing to a close now, and Mollie's face lengthened a
+little every day. Audrey had mooted the scheme to her father during a
+walk they had together, and Dr. Ross, who was one of the most benevolent
+and kindly of men, had at once given his consent, and had promised to
+speak to Michael, who carried it through with a high hand.
+
+Great was the rejoicing in the Blake household. Poor Kester had turned
+red and white by turns, and could hardly speak a word, so intense was
+his surprise; but Audrey, who saw the lad's agony of embarrassment,
+assured him that there was no need for him to speak, and that everything
+was settled.
+
+Cyril was almost as embarrassed when he came in to thank them that
+evening.
+
+'I have never heard of such kindness in my life,' he said eagerly, when
+he found Audrey alone; for the others were all in the garden, as she
+told him. 'I will go to them directly. Of course I must speak to Captain
+Burnett. I hear it is his thought. Am I interrupting you?' looking at
+her open desk. 'May I stay a moment?'
+
+'Certainly, if you like.'
+
+But Audrey did not resume her seat. She stood by the lamp, its crimson
+shade casting ruddy gleams over her white dress. She had coiled her hair
+loosely--Audrey was given to dressing herself hurriedly--and one long
+plait had become unfastened. It looked so smooth and brown against her
+white neck. At such moments Audrey certainly looked pretty. Perhaps
+Cyril thought so, for he looked at her long and earnestly.
+
+'I hardly know how to thank you all,' he went on almost abruptly. 'My
+mother feels the same. It is such a weight off my mind. You know, I am
+going to Cornwall myself; one of our Keble men has invited me. His
+father has a nice place near Truro.'
+
+'That will be a pleasant change for you,' she observed sympathetically.
+
+'Oh, I always turn up trumps,' he replied brightly. 'Last Christmas, and
+again at Easter, I had heaps of invitations. I was only bothering myself
+about Kester: he looked so seedy, you know, and it seemed such hard
+lines for him, poor boy! to see me go off and enjoy myself.'
+
+'Well, you see, Kester means to enjoy himself too.'
+
+'Don't I know that? He is a lucky fellow!' and Cyril sighed--a good
+honest sigh it was, too, for Audrey heard it. 'Just fancy seven weeks in
+paradise!'
+
+'Well, it is very lovely there,' she answered demurely; and then she
+discovered the stray lock, and pinned it up hastily.
+
+'Oh, I was not meaning the place--though, of course, everyone knows
+Braemar has its advantages. I think one's happiness depends more on the
+society one has. Don't you think so too, Miss Ross?'
+
+'I daresay you are right. Well, we shall have my sister and her husband,
+and Kester and Captain Burnett; so we shall be a nice party.'
+
+'Oh yes, of course Captain Burnett is going?' returned Cyril, in a
+dubious tone.
+
+'Yes; and I suppose you think he is lucky too?' and there was a gleam of
+fun in Audrey's eyes.
+
+'Not more so than usual; the gate of paradise is never shut on Captain
+Burnett.'
+
+But though Cyril laughed as he made this little speech, there was no
+expression of mirth in his eyes. But Audrey chose to consider it a joke.
+
+'If you talk in this manner, I shall think you envy Kester his treat.'
+
+'I am afraid I do envy him, Miss Ross. If Kester and I could only change
+places----'
+
+He checked himself as though he had said too much, and turned to the
+window.
+
+'You will find them all on the circular bench,' she said, sitting down
+to her desk again. 'When I have finished my letter I will join you.' And
+Cyril took the hint.
+
+'I wish he would not say such things; but, of course, he is only
+joking,' thought Audrey. But in her heart she knew he was not joking.
+Could she be ignorant that on all possible occasions Mr. Blake followed
+her like a shadow--a very quiet, unobtrusive shadow; but, nevertheless,
+he seemed always near. Could she be blind to the wistful looks that
+seemed to watch her on all occasions, and that interpreted her every
+wish? Perhaps no one else noticed them--Audrey fervently hoped
+not--unless it were his mother. And here Audrey reddened at the
+remembrance of certain vague hints and innuendoes that had latterly made
+her uncomfortable, and hindered her from going to the Gray Cottage.
+
+'Perhaps I am too friendly with him. I do not check him sufficiently,'
+she thought. 'But he has never said such things before. He ought not; I
+must not allow it. What would Gage or Michael say? Dear old Michael! how
+excited he is about our Scotch trip! He says he shall be so pleased to
+have my undivided attention again. I wonder, have I been less nice to
+Michael lately? He has certainly seemed more dull than usual. I will
+make up for it--I will indeed! Michael shall never be dull if I can help
+it, I mean to devote myself to him.' And then Audrey took up her pen
+with a sigh. Was she really glad the term was so nearly over? It had
+been such a nice summer. Of course she would enjoy Scotland, with all
+her own people round her, and there would be Kester. Kester would write
+to his brother sometimes, and, of course, there would be letters in
+reply. That would be pleasant. Oh yes, everything was delightful! And
+with this final thought Audrey set herself resolutely to work, and
+finished her letter just in time to see Cyril take his leave. He had
+waited for her with the utmost impatience, but when Mrs. Ross complained
+of chilliness, and proposed to return to the house, he had no excuse for
+lingering any longer, and Michael, with some alacrity, had accompanied
+him to the gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+MOLLIE LETS THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG
+
+     'Nothing is true but love, nor aught of worth;
+     Love is the incense which doth sweeten earth.'
+
+                                           TRENCH.
+
+
+'Oh dear, Miss Ross, what shall I do without you for seven whole weeks?'
+was Mollie's piteous lament one morning. Audrey was on her knees packing
+a huge travelling box, and Mollie, seated on the edge of a chair, was
+regarding her with round, melancholy eyes. It was the first day of the
+vacation, and Rutherford looked as empty and deserted as some forsaken
+city. Utter silence reigned in the lower school, from which the fifty
+boys had departed; and Mrs. Draper, the matron, had uttered more than
+once her usual formula of parting benediction as the last urchin drove
+off: 'There, bless them! they are all packed off, bag and baggage, thank
+Heaven! and not a missing collar or sock among them'--an ejaculation
+that Michael once declared was a homely Te Deum, sacred and peculiar to
+the race of Rutherford matrons.
+
+Audrey straightened herself when she heard Mollie's plaintive lament.
+
+'Now, Mollie, I thought you promised me that you would make yourself as
+happy as possible.'
+
+'I said I would try,' returned Mollie, her eyes filling with tears; 'but
+how can I help missing you? I do mean to do my very best--I do indeed,
+Miss Ross.'
+
+'Come, that is bravely said. I know it is hard upon you, my dear, taking
+Kester away.' But Mollie would not let her finish her sentence.
+
+'Oh no; you must not say that. I am so glad for Kester to go. Do you
+know, he is so pleased and excited that he can hardly sleep when he goes
+to bed; and he wakes in the night to think about it. I do believe he
+loves Captain Burnett as much as I love you; he is always talking about
+him. After all'--here Mollie dried her eyes--'it is not so bad for me as
+it is for mamma: she is always wretched without Cyril; you can't think
+how restless and unlike herself she is when he is away from her; she
+spends half her time writing to him or reading his letters. Cyril always
+writes such nice long letters.'
+
+'And Kester and I will write to you; you will be glad of letters, too,
+Mollie.'
+
+Evidently this charming idea had not occurred to Mollie, for she darted
+from her place and gave Audrey a grateful hug.
+
+'Do you mean it? will you really write to me? Oh, you dear thing! how I
+do love you!' with another hug. 'But you must not tire yourself, you
+know, or Kester either; they need not be long letters, but just nice
+little notes, that won't trouble you.'
+
+'Oh, we will see about that,' returned Audrey, smiling. She was touched
+by this thoughtfulness; it was so like Mollie's sweet unselfishness: she
+never did seem to think of herself. 'You have no idea how quickly the
+time will pass. Think of all the things you have promised to do for me!'
+for Audrey had already made all sorts of nice little plans for her
+favourite. Mollie was to have the run of the house and grounds; she was
+to bring her mother to sit in the garden every afternoon if she
+liked--Mrs. Blake would enjoy it; she was so fond of flowers--and Mollie
+could amuse herself with the canoe. Then there was Audrey's piano:
+Mollie must promise to practise her scales and exercises on it every
+day; and there was a pile of delightfully interesting books set apart
+for her use. She must see, too, that her pet bullfinch was not
+neglected, and that her flowers were watered; for Audrey had a pretty
+sitting-room of her own. Molly soon cheered up as Audrey recapitulated
+these privileges; she was young enough to be soon consoled. She readily
+agreed with Audrey that her mother would enjoy wandering about the
+Woodcote gardens; they would bring their books and work, and sit under
+the trees on fine afternoons.
+
+'Cyril has been making mamma promise to begin Roman history with me,'
+continued Mollie; 'he was so shocked when he found out I knew nothing
+about Romulus and Remus. Was it quite true about the wolf, Miss Ross? I
+thought it sounded like a fable. Oh, do you know,' interrupting herself
+eagerly, 'I want to tell you something--Kester said I might if I liked:
+he has got two new suits of clothes.'
+
+Audrey left off packing, and looked at Mollie in some surprise.
+
+'Did you say two suits, my dear?'
+
+'Yes. Is it not nice, Miss Ross? But Cyril said he positively could not
+do with less than two--a rough suit for every day, and a better one for
+Sundays. I don't think Kester ever had two whole suits before. Mamma was
+pleased, but she thought it a little extravagant of Cyril. And he bought
+him boots and ties, oh, and other things beside!'
+
+'How very good of him!' and Audrey felt a warm glow of pleasure. She
+longed to question Mollie, but she prudently forebore: it was no
+business of hers if Mr. Blake chose to get into debt; for where could he
+have got the money? But her curiosity was soon to be satisfied; Mollie
+was dying to tell the whole story.
+
+'You would say so if you knew all,' she returned, with a mysterious air;
+'mamma does not know yet. I am afraid when she finds out she will be
+terribly vexed: she does so hate Cyril to go without things. I think she
+would almost rather let Kester be shabby than see Cyril without----Oh, I
+was just going to bring it out!'
+
+Audrey took no notice. She was folding a dress, and the sleeves were
+giving her some trouble.
+
+'Kester never said I was not to tell,' went on Mollie, as though arguing
+with herself. 'I don't know why I stopped just now. Miss Ross, have you
+ever noticed what a beautiful watch and chain Cyril wears?'
+
+This was too much for Audrey.
+
+'You don't mean to say that your brother has sold his watch?' she asked,
+so abruptly that Mollie stared at her.
+
+'No, not his watch; he could not do without one; but he said the chain
+did not matter--a steel guard would answer the purpose quite as well.
+But it was such a lovely chain, and he was so proud of it! An old
+gentleman, General Fawcett, gave them to him. He was very grateful to
+Cyril for saving his grandson's life--Cyril jumped into the river, you
+know--and then the General, who was very rich, sent him the watch and
+chain, with such a beautiful letter. When Cyril saw them he was almost
+ashamed to accept them, he said they must have cost so much.'
+
+'What a pity to part with such a gift!' murmured Audrey, busying herself
+over another dress.
+
+'Yes; but, you see, Cyril had so little money, not half enough to pay
+for all Kester wanted--and he had bought that silk dress, too. Mamma
+would have had him get the clothes on credit, but Cyril has such a
+horror of debt. At first he would not let us know anything about it--he
+took Kester to the shop and had him fitted--but at last he was obliged
+to tell, because Kester missed Cyril's gold Albert chain. Kester looked
+ready to cry when he heard it was sold. He did think it such a pity, and
+he knew mamma would be so vexed. But Cyril only laughed at us both, and
+said he did not care about jewellery--he would be very much ashamed if
+Kester went to Scotland in his shabby old clothes; and then he begged us
+both to say nothing to mamma unless she missed the chain--she will not
+yet, because Cyril has sent his watch to be cleaned.'
+
+'Mollie, I am really afraid that you ought not to have told me this,'
+returned Audrey gravely; but there was a wonderful brightness in her
+eyes, as though the story pleased her. 'I think you ought to have kept
+your brother's secret.'
+
+'But he never said it was a secret, except from mamma,' pleaded Mollie
+in self-defence; 'and I wanted you to know, because it was so dear of
+Cyril. But he is just like that; he will do anything for Kester.'
+
+'But, all the same, I hope you will not tell anyone else;' and as Mollie
+looked disturbed at this, she went on: 'it will be quite safe with me,
+you know. People so often tell me their little secrets, and your brother
+need not know that you have told me.
+
+'Why, do you think he will mind? Oh no, Miss Ross! I am sure you are
+wrong about that. I was talking to him one evening about you, and I
+remember I said that I could not help telling you things, because you
+were so nice and kind; and Cyril answered, quite seriously, "You could
+never have a better friend than Miss Ross. You will learn nothing but
+good from her--tell her all you like. There is no one of whom I think
+more highly." And then he kissed me quite affectionately.'
+
+'But all the same, Mollie, I think you had better not let him know that
+you have told me--I mean it would only embarrass him;' and here Audrey
+got up in a hurry and went to her wardrobe for something she had
+forgotten, and when she came back, it was to remind Mollie of the
+lateness of the hour.
+
+'But this is not good-bye, you know. We shall stop at the Gray Cottage
+to-morrow morning, to pick up Kester and his portmanteau.' And then,
+with some little difficulty, she dismissed Mollie.
+
+Audrey intended to pay a parting visit to her friend, Mr. O'Brien, that
+evening. Dr. Ross and Michael had gone up to London for the day, and had
+arranged to sleep in town, and Mr. Harcourt would escort the ladies and
+look after their luggage until they joined them.
+
+Audrey had arranged with her mother that an informal meal should be
+served in the place of the ordinary late dinner, and that even this
+should be postponed until nine. It was impossible to walk to Brail in
+the heat of the afternoon--the weather was sultry, even at Rutherford,
+and Audrey proposed not to start until after an early tea.
+
+When she was ready she went in search of Booty, who had been left under
+her guardianship. She knew exactly where she should find him--lying on
+Michael's bed. Booty was always a spectacle of woe during his master's
+brief absences. At the sound of a footstep or an opening door below, his
+short legs would be heard pattering downstairs; there would be an eager
+search in every room, then, with a whine of disappointment and a
+heart-broken expression in his brown eyes, Booty would slink back again
+to Michael's room to lie on his pillow, or mount guard over some
+relic--a tie, a glove, or even an old shoe--something that he could
+identify as his master's property.
+
+Audrey was the only one who could comfort Booty for the loss of that
+loved presence; but even with her, Booty was still a most unhappy dog.
+He plucked up a little spirit, however, at the sight of her hat, and
+jumped off the bed. His master was clearly not in the house; perhaps the
+road his temporary mistress meant to take would lead to him--even a dog
+wearies of moping, and Booty's short legs needed their usual exercise.
+He followed her, therefore, without reluctance, and even lapped a little
+water out of his special dish; but there was no joyous bark, no
+unrestrained gambols, as he trotted after her with his soft eyes looking
+out for that worshipped form that was to Booty the one aim and object of
+life, for whose special delectation and delight he had been created.
+Mrs. Ross always said it made her quite miserable to see Booty when
+Michael was away, and, indeed, Michael never dared to leave him for many
+days together. If anything had happened to his master the little animal
+would have pined and fretted himself to death.
+
+'I suppose no one will ever love me as that creature does,' Michael once
+observed to Audrey; 'he has simply no will or life of his own. What a
+faithful friend a dog is! I believe Booty understands me better than
+most people. We have long conversations together sometimes--I talk, and
+Booty answers by signs.'
+
+Audrey enjoyed her walk, but she was afraid Booty was tired and would
+need a long rest. When they reached Vineyard Cottage she found Mrs.
+Baxter mending stockings in the porch.
+
+'Father has gone out for a little stroll, Miss Ross,' she said, rising,
+with her usual subdued smile. 'He will be back directly. Will you come
+into the parlour and rest?'
+
+'I would rather stay here,' returned Audrey. 'I am so fond of this
+pretty old porch, and this bench is so comfortable. Booty is tired, Mrs.
+Baxter; he has been fretting because his master chose to go up to London
+to-day, and his low spirits have made him languid. Look at him when I
+say Michael--there!' as the dog started and sat up eagerly; 'he knows
+his name, you see.'
+
+'Poor thing! He is as intelligent as a Christian--more intelligent than
+some Christians I know. The ways of Providence are strange, Miss Ross,
+putting a loving heart into an animal like that, and leaving some human
+beings without one--unless it be a heart of stone;' and here Mrs. Baxter
+sighed heavily and snapped her thread.
+
+'I hope things have been quiet lately,' observed Audrey, taking off her
+hat.
+
+'You mean, if Joe has been behaving himself?--which is a question I can
+thankfully answer at present. Joe has not been troubling me again, Miss
+Ross. I think father frightened him that time. Joe was always a coward;
+it is an evil conscience that makes him a coward. There is nothing else
+so frights a man. Joe couldn't treat a woman as he has treated me
+without feeling his conscience prick him sometimes.'
+
+'No, indeed, Mrs. Baxter. Let us hope that he will repent some day.'
+
+'I tell father his repentance will come too late. We can't sow tares and
+reap wheat in this world, Miss Ross. "The wicked flee when no man
+pursueth." I always think of Joe when I read that verse. Oh, there is
+always comfort to be found in the Scriptures. "A woman forsaken and
+grieved in spirit"--do you remember those words, Miss Ross? I came upon
+them quite suddenly one evening as I was sitting in this very porch, and
+I said out loud to myself, as one does sometimes, "Those words just fit
+you, Priscilla Baxter; they might be written for you."'
+
+'That makes the Bible such a wonderful book,' returned Audrey
+thoughtfully. 'Every form of grief finds expression and comfort there;
+there is food for every mind, every age, every nationality.'
+
+'I never saw anyone to beat father in reading the Bible, Miss Ross. You
+would be surprised to see how kindly he takes to it. I have known him
+read the Prodigal Son to Hannah and me on Sunday evening with the tears
+running down his face, and he not knowing it more than a baby, for all
+Hannah's sniffs. It is his favourite reading--it is, indeed, Miss Ross,
+though his voice does get choky sometimes.'
+
+'He is thinking of his poor brother Mat.'
+
+'Begging your pardon, Miss Ross, I would rather not mention Uncle Mat,'
+returned Mrs. Baxter stiffly. 'Joe has been a thorn in my side, heaven
+knows! and his wickedness has reduced me, his wedded wife, to skin and
+bone; but even Joe, with all his villainies, has not made himself a
+felon, and I can still bear his name without blushing--and so I have
+told father a score of times when he wants to make out that Joe is the
+blacker of the two.'
+
+'Oh, I would not hurt him by speaking against his brother! Do you know,
+Mrs. Baxter, he loves him so dearly still.'
+
+'Yes; but that is father's craze, Miss Ross,' she replied coldly. 'Even
+a good man has his little weakness, and, being a Churchwoman, and I
+trust humbly a believer, I would not deny that Providence has given me
+as good a father as ever breathed this mortal air; but we are all human,
+Miss Ross, and human nature has its frailties, and father would be a
+wiser and a happier man if he did not set such store by an ungrateful
+and good-for-nothing brother, who is a shame to his own flesh and blood,
+and whom it is a bitterness to me to own as my Uncle Mat.'
+
+'Priscilla!' ejaculated a grieved voice near them; and, looking round,
+the two women saw Mr. O'Brien standing within a few paces of them. No
+one had heard his footsteps except Booty, whose instincts were always
+gentlemanly, and who, in spite of his deep dejection, had given him a
+friendly greeting.
+
+Mr. O'Brien's good-natured face looked unusually grave.
+
+'Good-evening, Miss Ross. I thought we should see you before your
+flitting. I am sorry I stepped out for a bit, and so lost your company.
+Prissy, my girl, I don't want to find fault with you, but I'll not deny
+that it hurts me to hear you speak against Mat, poor old chap! when he
+is not here to answer for himself. It is woman-like, but it is not
+fair'--looking at them with mild reproach--'and it cuts me to hear it.
+It is not what your mother, my blessed Susan, would have done. She was
+never hard upon Mat--never!'
+
+Mrs. Baxter gave a penitent little sniff, and a faint flush came to her
+sallow face; with all her faults, she was devoted to her father. But she
+was a true daughter of Eve, and this well-deserved reproach only moved
+her to feeble recrimination.
+
+'Well, father, I was always taught that listeners never heard any good
+of themselves. Not that the proverb holds strictly true in this case;
+but if Uncle Mat were standing in your place, and heard what I said to
+Miss Ross, he would not deny I was speaking the truth--being always
+praised for my truthfulness and shaming the devil as much as possible;
+and if you are for saying that Uncle Mat was a kind brother to one who
+acted as his own father, I am bound to say that I do not agree with
+you.'
+
+'No, my lass; I am free to confess that Mat might have been kinder, and
+that as far as that goes you are speaking Gospel truth; but my Susan and
+I have been used to say the Lord's Prayer together every night; and
+Susan--that's your mother, Prissy--would sometimes whisper as we knelt
+down, "Tom, are we sure we have quite forgiven everybody? I was put out
+this afternoon with Mat;" and sometimes her voice would tremble a bit
+when she came to the words, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive
+them that trespass against us."' And Mr. O'Brien took off his straw hat
+with old-fashioned reverence.
+
+Mrs. Baxter gave a little choke.
+
+'I wish I had left it unsaid, father, if you are going to take on like
+this,' she observed remorsefully. 'Sooner than grieve you, I would hold
+my tongue about Uncle Mat for the remainder of my natural life. There is
+nothing I would do sooner than have my mother quoted to me like a
+Scripture saint, as though I were not worthy to tie her shoe-string.'
+
+'Nay, nay, my lass, you are misunderstanding my meaning.'
+
+'No, father, begging your pardon, I am not; and, as I have often told
+Miss Ross, I never feel worthy to be the offspring of such parents. Miss
+Ross'--turning to her--'my father is a little low this evening, and I
+have put him out of his usual way. I will leave you to talk to him a
+bit while I open a bottle of our white currant wine to hearten you for
+your walk home.'
+
+'Poor Prissy!' observed Mr. O'Brien, shaking his gray head; 'she is a
+worrier, as Susan used to say; but her bark is worse than her bite. She
+is a good soul, and I would not change her for one of the lively sort.'
+
+'She is really very sorry for having pained you.'
+
+'Sorry! Bless my heart, you don't know Prissy. She will be that contrite
+for showing the sharp edge of her tongue that there will be nothing she
+will not do to make amends. It will be, "Father, what will you have?"
+and, "Father, do you think you could enjoy that?" from morning to night,
+as though I were a new-born babe to be tended. No, no, you are not up to
+Prissy. She has not got her mother's sweet, charitable nature--my Susan,
+bless her dear heart! always thought the best of everybody--but Prissy
+is a good girl, for all that.'
+
+Audrey smiled as she drew down a tendril of jasmine to inhale its
+honeyed fragrance. There was not much girlhood left in the faded,
+sorrowful woman who had left them just now; but in the father's fond
+eyes Priscilla would always be a girl. Then, in her serious, sweet way,
+she began to talk to her old friend--drawing him out, and listening to
+those vague, far old memories that seemed dearer to him day by day,
+until he had grown soothed and comforted.
+
+Mrs. Baxter joined them by and by, but she did not interrupt them,
+except to press another slice of the home-made cake on Audrey.
+
+When she rose to go, father and daughter accompanied her to the gate,
+and wished her a hearty God-speed.
+
+'Good-bye, my dear old friends,' she returned cheerfully; 'in seven
+weeks I shall hope to see you again. Take care of Mr. O'Brien, Mrs.
+Baxter.'
+
+'Oh yes, Miss Ross, I will take care of him. It is not as if one could
+have a second parent. Father, put on your hat; the dews are falling, and
+you are not as young as you used to be.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+AMONG THE BRAIL LANES
+
+     'Discreet reserve in a woman, like the distances kept by royal
+     personages, contributes to maintain the proper reverence. Most of
+     our pleasures are prized in proportion to the difficulty with which
+     they are obtained.'--FORDYCE.
+
+     'A very slight spark will kindle a flame when everything lies open
+     to catch it.'--SIR WALTER SCOTT.
+
+
+While Audrey was talking to her old friend in the jasmine-covered porch
+of Vineyard Cottage, Cyril Blake was sitting on a stile in one of the
+Brail lanes, trying to solve a difficult problem.
+
+A domestic matter had come under his notice that very afternoon--a very
+ordinary occurrence, if he had only known it--and had caused him much
+vexation. Not being more clear-sighted than other young men of his age,
+it is extremely doubtful whether he would have noticed it at all but for
+a few words spoken by Miss Ross.
+
+A week or two ago he had observed casually to her, as they were standing
+together on the cricket-field, that he thought Mollie was growing very
+fast.
+
+'I suppose she is strong,' he added doubtfully; 'but she has certainly
+seemed very tired lately'--this reflection being forced upon him by a
+remark of Kester's, 'that Mollie had such a lot of headaches now.'
+
+'I am afraid Mollie is very often tired,' returned Audrey rather
+gravely.
+
+Now, there was nothing in this simple remark to arrest Cyril's
+attention; but somehow Audrey's tone implied a good deal, and, though no
+further word passed between them on the subject, Cyril was left with an
+uncomfortable impression, though it was too vague and intangible to be
+understood by him.
+
+But on this afternoon in question he was rummaging among his possessions
+for some studs he had mislaid, and, thinking Mollie would help him in
+the search, he went in quest of her. He found her in the close little
+kitchen, ironing a pile of handkerchiefs and starched things. The place
+felt like an oven that hot summer's afternoon, and poor Mollie's face
+was sadly flushed; she looked worried and overheated, and it was then
+that Audrey's words flashed on him with a sort of electrical
+illumination--'I am afraid Mollie is very often tired.'
+
+'Did you want me, Cyril?' asked Mollie, a little wearily, as she tested
+another iron and then put it down again.
+
+'Yes--no, it does not matter,' rather absently. 'Mollie, is there no one
+else who can do that work? This place is like a brick-kiln.'
+
+'Well, there is only Biddy, you know, and she does get up the things so
+badly. You remember how you grumbled about your handkerchiefs--and no
+wonder, for they looked as though they were rough-dried--and so mamma
+said I had better do them for the future, because I could iron so
+nicely;' and Mollie gave a look of pride at the snowy pile beside her.
+
+But Cyril was not so easily mollified.
+
+'I would rather have my things badly done than see you slave in this
+fashion,' he returned, with unwonted irritation. 'Mollie, does Miss Ross
+know you do this sort of thing?'
+
+'Oh yes, of course; I always tell Miss Ross everything.'
+
+'She must have a pretty good opinion of us by this time,' in a vexed
+voice.
+
+'She knows it cannot be helped,' returned Mollie simply. 'She did say
+one day that she was very sorry for me, when she saw how tired I
+was--oh, she was so dear and sweet that day!--and once when I told her
+how my back ached, and I could not help crying a little, she said she
+would like to speak to mamma about me, but that she knew it was no
+business of hers.'
+
+'Anyhow, I shall make it my business,' returned her brother decidedly;
+and he marched off to the drawing-room.
+
+Mrs. Blake was sitting in the window, marking some of Kester's new
+socks. She looked very cool and comfortable; the room was sweet with the
+scent of flowers. The contrast between her and Mollie struck Cyril very
+forcibly, and when his mother looked up at him with one of her caressing
+smiles, he did not respond with his customary brightness.
+
+'Mother, I want to talk to you about Mollie,' he said with unusual
+abruptness, as he threw himself down in a cushioned chair opposite his
+mother's little work-table.
+
+'Yes, dear,' she returned tranquilly, pausing to admire an
+exquisitely-worked initial.
+
+'I found her in the kitchen just now, with her face the colour of a
+peony, ironing out a lot of things. The place was like a furnace; I
+could not have stood it for a quarter of an hour. Surely, mother, there
+is no need for Mollie to slave in this way.'
+
+'Do you call ironing a few fine things slavery?' replied Mrs. Blake in
+an amused voice. 'In our great-grandmothers' time girls did more than
+that. Mollie is not overworked, I assure you.'
+
+'Then what makes her look so done up?'
+
+'Oh, that is nothing! She is growing so fast, you know; and growing
+girls have that look. Mollie is as strong as a horse, really--at her age
+I was far weaker. Mollie is a good child, but she is a little given to
+grumbling and making a fuss about trifles.'
+
+'Oh, I don't agree with you there.'
+
+'That is because you do not understand girls,' returned his mother
+composedly. 'But you may safely leave Mollie to me. Am I likely to
+overwork one of my own children? Should I be worthy of the name of
+mother?'
+
+'Yes, but you might not see your way to help it--that is, as long as you
+persist in your ridiculous resolution of keeping Biddy. Why, she ought
+to have been shelved long ago.'
+
+'That is my affair, Cyril,' replied Mrs. Blake with unusual dignity.
+
+She hardly ever spoke to him in that voice, and he looked up a little
+surprised.
+
+'I hope we are not going to quarrel, motherling,' his pet name for her.
+
+'Do we ever quarrel, darling? No, you only vex me when you talk of
+sending poor old Biddy away. I could not do it, Cyril. I am not
+naturally a hard-hearted woman, and it would be sheer cruelty to turn
+off my old nurse. Where would she go, poor old thing? And you know
+yourself we cannot afford another servant.'
+
+'Not at present, certainly.'
+
+'Perhaps we may in the future--who knows?' returned Mrs. Blake with
+restored gaiety; 'and until then a little work will not hurt Mollie. Do
+you know, when I was a girl, my mother always insisted on my sister
+Dora and myself making our own beds--she said it would straighten our
+backs--and she liked us to run up and down stairs and make ourselves
+useful, because the exercise would improve our carriage and complexion.
+Dora had such a pretty figure, poor girl! and I think mine is passable,'
+drawing herself up to give effect to her words.
+
+'You, mother? You are as slim and as graceful as a girl now!' returned
+Cyril admiringly. Then, recurring to his subject with a man's
+persistence, 'I don't believe you did half so much as poor Mollie does.'
+
+'And what does she do?' asked Mrs. Blake, still mildly obstinate. 'She
+only supplements poor old Biddy. A little dusting, a little bed-making;
+now and then, perhaps, a trifle of ironing. What is that for a strong,
+healthy girl like Mollie?'
+
+'Yes; but Mollie has to be educated,' replied Cyril, only half convinced
+by this plausible statement. 'These things may be only trifles, as you
+say, but they take up a good deal of time. You know, mother dear, how
+often I complain of the desultory way Mollie's lessons are carried on.'
+
+'That is because Mollie and I are such wretched managers,' she returned
+eagerly. 'I am a feckless body, I know; and Mollie takes after me--we
+both hate running in grooves.'
+
+'Mollie is young enough to learn better ways,' was Cyril's grave answer.
+'As for you, mother, you are hopeless,' with a shake of his head.
+
+'Yes, you will never mend or alter me,' she rejoined with a light laugh.
+'I am Irish to the backbone. Now, my boy, you really must not keep me
+any longer with all this nonsense about Mollie. I have to go up to
+Rosendale, you know; Mrs. Cardell begged me to sit with her a little,
+and I am late now. Mollie will give you your tea. Come--have you
+forgiven your mother?' passing her white taper fingers over his dark
+hair as she spoke.
+
+Cyril's only answer was to draw her face down to his.
+
+Mrs. Blake smiled happily at him as she left the room--what did she care
+if only everything were right between her and her idolised boy? But
+Cyril was not so satisfied. With all his love for his mother, he was by
+no means blind to her many faults. He knew she was far too partial in
+her treatment of her children--that she was often thoughtless of
+Kester's comfort, and a little hard in her judgment of him; and she was
+not always judicious with respect to Mollie. At times she was lax, and
+left the girl to her own devices; but in certain moods, when Cyril had
+been speaking to her, perhaps, there would be nothing right. It was then
+that Mollie was accused of untidiness and feckless ways, when hints of
+idleness were dropped, and strict rules, never to be carried out, were
+made. Mollie must do a copy every day; she wrote worse than a child of
+ten. Her ignorance of geography was disgraceful; she had no idea where
+the Tigris was, and she could not name half the counties in Scotland,
+and so on. For four-and-twenty hours Mollie would be drilled, put
+through her facings, lectured, and made generally miserable; but by the
+next morning or so the educational cleaning would be over. 'Mother
+wasn't in a mood for teaching,' Mollie would say in her artless fashion
+as she carried away her books.
+
+'No; he could not alter his mother's nature,' Cyril thought sadly. He
+could only do the best he could for them all. He was clever enough to
+see that his mother was wilfully shutting her eyes to her own
+mismanagement of Mollie, and that she preferred drifting on in this
+happy-go-lucky fashion. With all her energy and fits of industry, she
+was extremely indolent, and never liked taking trouble about anything.
+No; it was no use talking to her any more about Mollie, unless he had
+some definite suggestion to make--and then it was that he wondered if
+Miss Ross would help him; she always helped everyone, and he knew that
+she was in full possession of the facts.
+
+'I am not a bit ashamed of our poverty,' thought Cyril, as he plunged
+down the sweet, dewy lanes. 'One day I shall get on, and be any man's
+equal; but the only thing that troubles me is the idea that she thinks
+us too hard on Mollie. She has never said so, of course; but somehow it
+is so easy to read her thoughts--she is more transparent than other
+people.' And Cyril heaved a deep sigh. 'I wonder what she will think
+when she sees me. I do not want her to know that I am looking out for
+her. Everyone has a right to take an evening walk if he likes; and, of
+course, the roads are open to all. Even without this excuse I meant to
+do it; for after this evening----' And then Cyril groaned to himself as
+he thought of the seven long blank weeks that stretched before him, when
+a certain sweet face would be missing; and at that moment he espied the
+gleam of a white dress between the hedgerows.
+
+Now, Audrey was right in saying Booty was a spoilt dog. He was as full
+of whimsies this evening as spoilt children generally are. He had
+testified extreme delight when Audrey had closed the gate of Vineyard
+Cottage behind her. By some curious canine train of reasoning he had
+arrived at the conviction that his master was at Woodcote--had probably
+arrived there during their absence; and with this pleasing notion he
+pattered cheerfully after Audrey down the long grass lanes. But Audrey
+walked fast, and being rather late, she walked all the faster; and
+Booty, who was used to Michael's leisurely pace, began to lag behind and
+to hold out signals of distress. 'Oh, Booty, Booty!' exclaimed Audrey,
+regarding the little animal indulgently; 'and so I am to carry you, just
+because your legs are so absurdly short that they tire easily.'
+Evidently this was what Booty wished, for he sat up and waved his paws
+in an irresistible way. 'Very well, I will carry you, old fellow; but
+you are dreadfully spoilt, you know.'
+
+'Indeed, you shall do nothing of the kind, Miss Ross;' and Cyril jumped
+off the stile. 'I will carry him for you;' and Cyril hoisted him up on
+his arm, being rewarded by an affectionate dab on his nose from Booty's
+busy tongue.
+
+Audrey had coloured slightly when she first caught sight of Cyril's tall
+figure; but she suppressed her surprise.
+
+'Is this a favourite walk of yours?' she asked carelessly, as though it
+were a usual thing to meet Mr. Blake wandering about the Brail lanes.
+
+Cyril was quite equal to the occasion. He hardly knew which was his
+favourite walk; he was trying them all by turns. He had taken his mother
+to Brail once, and she had been much pleased with the village. There was
+one cottage she thought very pretty--indeed, they had both fallen in
+love with it; it had a quaint old porch, smothered in jasmine.
+
+'That is Vineyard Cottage, where my friends the O'Briens live,' replied
+Audrey, only half deceived by this smooth account.
+
+It was clear that Mr. Blake wished her to think that only purest
+accident had guided his feet in the direction of Brail; but Audrey was
+sharp-witted, and she knew Mollie had a tongue; it would be so natural
+for her to say, 'Miss Ross is going to see some old friends at
+Brail--she told me so; but it is so hot that she will not go until after
+tea.' Once before she had been sure that Mollie's chattering had set Mr.
+Blake on her track. She must be more careful how she talked to Mollie
+for the future.
+
+But here Cyril, who was somewhat alarmed at her gravity, and who half
+guessed at her thoughts, began to speak about Mollie in an anxious,
+brotherly manner that restored Audrey at once to ease.
+
+'So you see all the difficulty,' he continued after he had briefly
+stated the facts; 'and I should be so grateful if you could help me to
+any solution. I ought to apologise for troubling you, but I know you
+take such an interest in Mollie.'
+
+'I do indeed,' she returned cordially, and in a moment every trace of
+constraint vanished from her manner; 'and, to tell you the truth, Mr.
+Blake, I have felt rather anxious about her lately. Even my mother has
+noticed how far from strong she looks.'
+
+'But that is because she is growing so fast,' he replied, unconsciously
+repeating Mrs. Blake's words. 'You see, Miss Ross, my mother absolutely
+refuses to part with Biddy. I have argued with her again and again, but
+nothing will induce her to send the old woman away. She also declares
+that she cannot afford another servant, so what is to be done?' and
+Cyril sighed as though he had all the labours of Hercules before him.
+
+Audrey looked at him very kindly; she was much touched by this
+confidence. How few young men, she thought, would have been so simple
+and straightforward! There was no false pride in the way he mentioned
+their small means and homely contrivances; he spoke to her quite
+frankly, as though he knew she was their friend, and as though he
+trusted her. It was the purest flattery, the most delicious homage he
+could have offered her. Audrey felt her sympathy quicken as she
+listened.
+
+'I would not trouble about it just now,' she observed cheerfully--'not
+until the vacation is over. Mollie will have very little to do while you
+and Kester are away.'
+
+'That is true,' he returned, in a relieved tone; for he had not thought
+of that.
+
+'When we all come back we might hit upon some plan. Do you think your
+mother would object to having in a woman two or three times a week to
+help Biddy? I think I know a person who would just do--Rebecca
+Armstrong. She does not want to leave home; but she is a strong, capable
+girl, and could easily do all the rough work--and she is very moderate
+in her charges. I could inquire about her, if you like.'
+
+'It is an excellent idea,' he replied, inwardly wondering why it had not
+occurred to his mother. 'I am so grateful to you for suggesting it. I am
+quite sure my mother will not object; so by all means let us have this
+Rebecca.'
+
+'Shall I tell your mother about her?'
+
+'Perhaps I had better speak to her first; there is no hurry, as you say.
+Really, Miss Ross, you have lifted a burden off my mind.'
+
+'I am so glad!' with a smile. 'You see, Mr. Blake, it will be so nice
+for Mollie to have her mornings to herself. She has told me two or three
+times that she finds it impossible to work in the afternoon, there are
+so many interruptions; and by that time she is generally so tired--or
+stupid, as she calls it--that she cannot even add up her sums.'
+
+'Oh, we will alter all that!' replied Cyril lightly.
+
+He had discharged his duty, and now he did not want to talk about Mollie
+any more. From the first he had always felt conscious of a feeling of
+well-being, of utter contentment, when he was in the presence of this
+girl; it made him happy only to be with her. But this evening they were
+so utterly alone; the whole world was shut out by those barriers of
+grassy lanes and still green meadows, with their groups of
+slowly-feeding cattle.
+
+The evening air was full of dewy freshness, and only the twittering of
+birds broke the stillness. A subtle sweetness seemed to distil through
+the young man's veins as he glanced at his companion; involuntarily, his
+voice softened.
+
+'I wonder where you will be this time to-morrow?' he said, rather
+abruptly.
+
+'We are to sleep at York, you know. Geraldine wants to see the Minster.'
+
+'Oh yes, I remember; Captain Burnett told me;' and then he began
+questioning her about Braemar. Could she describe it to him? He had
+never been in Scotland, and he would like to picture the place to
+himself. He should ask Kester to send him a photograph or two.
+
+Audrey was quite willing to satisfy him. She had been there already, and
+had seen their cottage. She could tell him all about their two parlours,
+and the little garden running down to the beck. But Cyril's curiosity
+was insatiable; he wanted to know presently how she would employ herself
+and what books she would read.
+
+'For you will have wet days,' he added--'saft days, I think they call
+them--and then time will hang heavily on your hands unless you have
+plenty of books.'
+
+'Oh, Michael has seen to that,' she replied brightly.
+
+Somehow, Michael's name was perpetually cropping up. 'My cousin and I
+mean to do that,' or 'Michael means to help me with that,' until Cyril's
+face grew slightly lugubrious.
+
+True, he tried to console himself with the remembrance of Audrey's words
+that she and Geraldine looked upon Michael as a sort of brother; still,
+he never did quite approve of this sort of adopted relationship. It was
+always a mistake, he thought; and in time people found it out for
+themselves.
+
+Of course he was Miss Ross's cousin--or, rather, her father's
+cousin--but even that did not explain matters comfortably to his mind;
+and when a man has a Victoria Cross, and is looked upon in the light of
+a hero, it is a little difficult for other men not to envy him.
+
+Cyril began to feel less happy. The walk was nearly at an end, too. Some
+of the light and cheerfulness seemed to fade out of the landscape; a
+chill breath permeated the summer air.
+
+But Audrey went on talking in her lively, girlish way. She was quite
+unconscious of the sombre tinge that had stolen over Cyril's thoughts.
+
+'Yes, to-morrow we shall be more than a hundred miles away; and the next
+day you will be _en route_ for Cornwall.'
+
+'I suppose so.'
+
+'You will have a very pleasant time, I hope.'
+
+'Oh, I daresay it will be pleasant enough; the house will be full of
+company--at least, Hackett says so. His people are very hospitable.'
+
+'Are there any daughters?'
+
+'Oh yes; there are three girls--the three Graces, as they were called
+when they came up to Commemoration.'
+
+'Indeed; were they so handsome?'
+
+'Some of our men thought so,' with a fine air of indifference. 'I know
+Baker was smitten with one of them; it is going to be a match, I
+believe. That is Henrietta, the eldest.'
+
+'I suppose she was the handsomest?'
+
+'Oh dear no! Miss Laura is far better looking; and so is the youngest,
+Miss Frances. In my opinion Miss Frances is far more taking than either
+of her sisters.'
+
+'Oh, indeed! I think you will have a pleasant time, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Well, I cannot say I am looking forward to it. I am afraid it will be
+rather a bore than otherwise. I would much rather go on working.'
+
+'I don't think you would find Rutherford very lively.'
+
+'Oh, I did not mean that!' with a reproachful glance at her that Audrey
+found rather embarrassing. 'You surely could not have thought I wished
+to remain here now'--a dangerous emphasis on 'now.' 'Why, it would be
+the abomination of desolation, a howling wilderness.'
+
+'I thought you were fond of Rutherford.'
+
+Audrey was not particularly brilliant in her remarks just now; she was
+not good at this sort of fencing. She had a dim idea that she ought to
+discourage this sort of thing; but she did so hate snubbing anyone, and,
+in spite of his youth, Mr. Blake was rather formidable.
+
+'So I do--I love Rutherford!' he returned, with such vehemence that
+Audrey was startled, and Booty tried anxiously to lick him again. 'It
+was a blessed day that brought us all here--I wonder how often I say
+that to myself--but all the same----' he paused, seemed to recollect
+himself, and went on--'it must be very dull in vacation time.'
+
+'Oh yes, of course,' she said quickly. It was rather a tame conclusion
+to his sentence; but Audrey breathed more freely. She was almost glad
+they had reached Rutherford, and that in a few minutes Woodcote would be
+in view.
+
+They were both a little silent after this, and by and by Cyril put Booty
+down.
+
+'Good-bye,' observed Audrey very gently, as she extended her hand.
+'Thank you so much for being so good to Booty; and please give my love
+to your mother and Mollie.'
+
+'Good-bye,' murmured Cyril; and for a moment he held her hand very
+tightly. If his eyes said a little too eloquently that he knew he should
+not see her again for a long time, Audrey did not see it, for her own
+were downcast. That strong, warm pressure of Cyril's hand had been a
+revelation, and a quick, sensitive blush rose to her face as she turned
+silently away.
+
+'That is over,' thought Cyril to himself, as he strode through the
+silent street in the summer twilight; 'and now for seven long blank
+weeks. Am I mad to-night? would it ever be possible? It is like the new
+heaven and the new earth only to think of it!' finished the young man,
+delirious with this sweet intoxication of possible and impossible
+dreams.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+ON A SCOTCH MOOR
+
+     'Time, so complained of,
+     Who to no one man
+     Shows partiality,
+     Brings round to all men
+     Some undimm'd hours.'
+
+               MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+In future days Audrey always looked back upon those seven weeks at
+Braemar with the same feelings with which one recalls the memory of some
+lake embosomed in hills, that one has seen sleeping in the sunlight, and
+in which only tranquil images were reflected--the branch of some
+drooping sapling, or some bird's wing as it skimmed across the glassy
+surface.
+
+Just so one day after another glided away in smooth enjoyment and
+untroubled serenity, and not a discordant breath ruffled the two
+households.
+
+The house that Dr. Ross had taken had originally been two good-sized
+cottages, and though the rooms were small, there were plenty of them;
+and a little careful adjustment of the scanty furniture, and a few
+additional nicknacks, transformed the parlour into a pleasant
+sitting-room. Geraldine wondered and admired when she came across, the
+first morning after their arrival. Audrey had arranged her own and
+Michael's books on the empty shelves; the little mirror, and indeed the
+whole mantelpiece, was festooned and half hidden with branches laden
+with deep crimson rowan-berries, mixed with heather and silvery-leafed
+honesty; a basket of the same rowan-berries occupied the centre of the
+round table; an Oriental scarf draped the ugly horsehair sofa, and a
+comfortable-looking rug was thrown over the shabby easy-chair. The
+fishing-tackle, butterfly-nets, pipes, and all other heterogeneous
+matters, were consigned to a small bare apartment, known as 'Michael's
+den,' and which soon became a lumber-room.
+
+Geraldine looked at her sister's handiwork with great approval. She
+considered her father's household was magnificently lodged; she and her
+husband had taken up their quarters in a much less commodious
+cottage--their tiny parlour would hardly hold four people comfortably,
+and the ceiling was so low that Mr. Harcourt always felt as though he
+must knock his head against the rafters. When any of the Ross party
+called on them, they generally adjourned to the small sloping garden,
+and conversed among the raspberry-bushes.
+
+It was delightful to see Geraldine's enjoyment of these primitive
+surroundings. The young mistress of Hillside seemed transformed into
+another person. Percival's clever contrivances, their little makeshifts,
+their odd picnic life, were all fruitful topics of conversation.
+
+'And then I have him all to myself, without any tiresome boys,' she
+would say to her mother. 'It is just like another honeymoon.'
+
+Geraldine's one grievance was that she was not strong enough to share
+her husband's excursions. She had to stay with her mother and Michael
+when he and Audrey and Dr. Ross took one of their long scrambling or
+fishing expeditions. Geraldine used to manifest a wifely impatience on
+these occasions that was very pretty and becoming; and she and Michael,
+who seemed to share her feelings, would stroll to the little bridge of
+an evening to meet the returning party. Somehow Michael was always the
+first to see them and to raise the friendly halloo, that generally sent
+the small black cattle scampering down the croft.
+
+'See the conquering hero comes!' Mr. Harcourt would respond, opening his
+rush basket to display the silvery trout. Dr. Ross's pockets would be
+full of mosses and specimens and fragments of rock, and Audrey brought
+up the rear with both hands laden with wild-flowers and grasses.
+
+'Have you been dull, my darling?' Mr. Harcourt would say as Geraldine
+walked beside him. She seemed to have eyes and ears for no one else--and
+was that any wonder, when he had been absent from her since early
+morning? 'We have had a grand day, Jerry; we have tramped I do not know
+how many miles--Dr. Ross says fifteen; we have been arguing about it all
+the way home. I am as hungry as a hunter. I feel like Esau--a bowl of
+red lentils would not have a chance with me. I always had a sneaking
+sort of liking for Esau. What have you got for supper, little woman?'
+
+'Salmon-steaks and broiled fowl,' was Geraldine's answer--'your
+favourite dishes, Percy. I am so glad you are hungry.'
+
+'Faith, that I am; the Trojan heroes were nothing to me! I will have a
+wash first, and get off these boots--should you know them for
+boots?--and then you shall see, my dear.'
+
+And it may be doubted whether those two ever enjoyed a meal more than
+those salmon-steaks and broiled fowl that Jean Scott first cooked and
+then carried in bare-armed, setting down the dishes with a triumphant
+bang on the small rickety table.
+
+'Now we will have a drop of the cratur and a pipe,' Mr. Harcourt would
+say. 'Wrap yourself in my rug, and we will sit in the porch, for really
+this cabin stifles me after the moors. What have you and your mother
+been talking about? Let me have the whole budget, Jerry.'
+
+Was there a happier woman in the world than Geraldine, nestled under her
+husband's plaid, in the big roomy porch, and looking out at the
+starlight? Even practical, prosaic people have their moments of poetry,
+when the inner meaning of things seems suddenly revealed to them, when
+their outer self drops off and their vision is purged and purified; and
+Geraldine, listening to the tinkling beck below, and inhaling the cool
+fragrance of the Scotch twilight, creeps nearer to her husband and leans
+against his sheltering arm. What does it matter what they talked about?
+Mr. Harcourt had not yet forgotten the lover in the husband; perhaps he,
+too, felt how sweet was this dual solitude after his busy labours, and
+owned in manly fashion his sense of his many blessings.
+
+'How happy those two are!' Audrey once said, a little thoughtfully.
+
+She was sitting on the open moor, and Michael was stretched on the
+heather beside her, with Kester at a little distance, buried as usual in
+his book; Booty was amusing himself by following rather inquisitively
+the slow movements of a bee that was humming over the heather. The three
+had been spending a tranquil afternoon together, while Dr. Ross and his
+son-in-law had started for a certain long walk, which they declared no
+woman ought to attempt.
+
+Audrey was not sorry to be left with Michael. It had been her intention
+from the first to devote herself to him; and dearly as she loved these
+rambles with her father, she was quite as happy talking to Michael.
+Audrey's dangerous gift of sympathy--dangerous because of its lack of
+moderation--always enabled her to throw herself into other people's
+interests; it gave her positive happiness to see Michael so tranquil and
+content, and carrying himself with the air of a man who knows himself to
+be anchored in some fair haven after stress of weather; and, indeed,
+these were halcyon days to Michael.
+
+He had Audrey's constant companionship, and never had the girl been
+sweeter to him. The delicious moorland air, the free life, the absence
+of any care or worry, braced his worn nerves and filled his pulses with
+a sense of returning health. He felt comparatively well and strong, and
+woke each morning with a sense of enjoyment and well-being. Even
+Audrey's long absences did not trouble him over-much, for there was
+always the pleasure of her return. He and Kester could always amuse
+themselves until the time came for him and Geraldine to stroll to their
+trysting-place.
+
+'Here we are, Michael!' Audrey would say, with her sudden bright smile,
+that seemed to light up the landscape. Somehow, he had never admired her
+so much as he did now in her neat tweed dress, and the deerstalker cap
+that sat so jauntily on her brown hair. How lightly she walked! how full
+of life and energy she was! No mountain-bred lass had a freer step, a
+more erect carriage.
+
+When Audrey made her little speech about her sister's happiness, Michael
+looked up with a sort of lazy surprise in his eyes.
+
+'Well, are not married people generally happy?' he asked. 'At least, the
+world gives them credit for happiness. Fancy turning bankrupt at nine or
+ten months!'
+
+'Oh, there will be no bankruptcy in their case. Gage is a thoroughly
+contented woman. Do you know, Michael, I begin to think Percival a good
+fellow myself. I never saw quite so much of him before, and he is really
+very companionable.'
+
+'Come, now, I have hopes of you. Then why this dubious tone in alluding
+to their matrimonial felicity?'
+
+'Oh, I don't know!' with a slight blush. 'I believe it makes me a little
+impatient if people talk too much about it. Mother and Gage are
+perpetually haranguing on such subjects as this; they are always
+hinting, or saying out openly, that such a girl had better be married.
+Now, it is all very well, but there are two sides to every question, and
+I do think old maids have a great many privileges. No one seems to think
+of the delights of freedom.'
+
+'I believe we have heard these sentiments before. Kester, my son, go on
+with your book; this sort of conversation is not intended for good
+little boys.'
+
+'Michael, don't be absurd! I really mean what I say; it is perfectly
+glorious to say and do just what one likes. I mean to write a paper
+about it one day, and send it up to one of our leading periodicals.'
+
+'"On the Old Maids of England," by "A Young Maid." I should like to read
+it; the result of three-and-twenty years' experience must be singularly
+beneficial to the world at large. Write it, my child, by all means; and
+I will correct the proof-sheets.'
+
+'But why should not one be happy in one's own way?' persisted Audrey.
+'You are older than I, Michael--I suppose a man of your age must have
+some experience--is it not something to be your own master, to go where
+you like and do what you like without being cross-questioned on your
+actions?'
+
+'Oh, I will agree with you there!'
+
+'People talk such nonsense about loneliness and all that sort of thing,
+as though one need be lonely in a whole world full of human
+creatures--as though an old maid cannot find plenty to love, and who
+will love her.'
+
+'I don't know; I never tried. If I had a maiden aunt, perhaps----'
+murmured Michael.
+
+'If you had, and she were a nice, kind-hearted woman, you would love
+her. I know it is the fashion to laugh at old maids, and make remarks on
+their funny little ways; but I never will find fault with them. Why, I
+shall be an old maid myself one day; but, all the same, I mean people to
+love me all my life long. What are you doing now?' rather sharply; for
+Michael had taken out his pocket-book and was writing the date.
+
+'I thought I might like to remind you of this conversation one day. Is
+it the sixteenth or the seventeenth? Thank you, Kester--the seventeenth?
+There! it is written down.'
+
+'You are very disagreeable, and I will not talk any more to you. I shall
+go and look for some stag's-horn moss instead;' and Audrey sprang up
+from her couch of heather and marched away, while Michael lay face
+downward, with his peaked cap drawn over his eyes, and watched her
+roaming over the moor.
+
+Now, why was Audrey declaiming after this fashion? and why did she take
+it into her head to air all sorts of independent notions that quite
+shocked her mother? and why was she for ever drawing plans to herself of
+a life that should be solitary, and yet crowded with interests--whose
+keynote should be sympathy for her fellow-creatures and large-hearted
+work among them? and, above all, why did she want to persuade herself
+and Michael that this was the sort of life best fitted for her? But no
+one could answer these questions; so complex is the machinery of
+feminine nature, that perhaps Audrey herself would have been the last to
+be able to answer them.
+
+But she was very happy, in spite of all these crude theories--very happy
+indeed; some fulness of life seemed to enrich her fine, bountiful
+nature, and to add to her sense of enjoyment. Sometimes, when she was
+sitting beside some mountain beck, in the hush of the noontide heat,
+when all was silent and solitary about her except the gauzy wings of
+insects moving above the grasses, a certain face would start up against
+the background of her thoughts--a pair of dark, wistful eyes would
+appeal to her out of the silence. That mute farewell, so suggestive, so
+full of pain--even the strong warm grasp with which her hand had been
+held--recurred to her memory. Was he still missing her, she wondered, or
+had Miss Frances contrived to comfort him?
+
+Miss Frances was very seldom mentioned in Cyril's frequent letters to
+Kester. The boy used to bring them to Audrey to read with a glow of
+satisfaction on his face.
+
+'Cyril is awfully good,' he said once; 'he never used to write to me at
+all; mother always had his letters. But look what a long one I have had
+to-day--two sheets and a half--and he has asked such a lot of questions.
+Please, do read it, Miss Ross; there are heaps of messages to
+everybody.'
+
+Audrey was quite willing to read it. As she took the letter, she again
+admired the clear, bold handwriting. It was just like the writer, she
+thought--frank, open, and straightforward. But as she perused it, a glow
+of amusement passed over her face.
+
+Mr. Blake's letters were very kind and brotherly, but were they only
+intended for Kester's eyes? Were all those picturesque descriptions,
+those clever sketches of character, those telling bits of humour, meant
+solely for the delectation of a boy of sixteen? And, then, the series of
+questions--what did they do all day when the weather was rainy, for
+example? did Miss Ross always join the Doctor and Mr. Harcourt on their
+fishing expeditions? and so on. Mr. Blake seldom mentioned her name,
+although there were many indirect allusions to her; but Miss Frances was
+scarcely ever mentioned. She was only classed in an offhand way with
+'the Hackett girls' or 'the young ladies.' 'The Hackett girls went with
+us; the two younger ones are famous walkers,' etcetera.
+
+Sometimes there would be an attempt to moralise.
+
+'I am getting sick of girls,' he wrote on this occasion. 'I will give
+you a piece of brotherly advice, my boy: never have much to do with
+them. Do not misunderstand me. By girls, I mean the specimens of young
+ladies one meets at tennis-parties, garden-parties, and that sort of
+thing. They are very pretty and amusing, but they are dangerous; they
+seem to expect that a fellow has nothing else to do but to dangle after
+them and pay them compliments. Even Miss F----. But, there, I will not
+mention names. She is a good sort--a lively little soul; but she is
+always up to mischief.'
+
+Audrey bit her lips to keep from smiling as she read this passage, for
+she knew Kester was watching her. It was one of the 'saft days' common
+in the Highlands, and, not being ducks, the two households had remained
+within doors. Dr. Ross and Michael were classifying butterflies and
+moths in the den; Mrs. Ross was in her room; and Mr. and Mrs.
+Harcourt--'cabined, cribbed, confined,' as Mr. Harcourt expressed
+it--were getting through alarming arrears of correspondence by way of
+passing the time. Audrey had lighted a fire in the parlour, and sat
+beside it snugly, and Kester was on the couch opposite her.
+
+'I wonder if it be Miss Frances!' thought Audrey, as she replaced the
+letter in the envelope. '"A lively little soul, and a good sort." I
+don't think Mr. Blake's dislike to girls counts for much. Young men
+seldom write in that way unless they are bitten; and, of course, it
+could be no one else but Miss Frances. But it is no use arguing out the
+question.'
+
+'It is a very good letter,' she said aloud. 'You are lucky to have such
+a correspondent. I suppose'--taking up her embroidery--'that your
+brother will not mind our seeing his letters?'
+
+'Oh dear no!' returned Kester, falling innocently into the snare. 'I
+have told him that you always read them; and, you see, he writes just as
+often. Do you think Cyril is enjoying himself as much as we are, Miss
+Ross? Now and then it seems to me that he is a little dull. When Cyril
+says he is bored, I think he means it.'
+
+Audrey evaded this question. She also had detected a vein of melancholy
+running through the letters. If he were so very happy in Miss Frances'
+society, would he wish quite so earnestly that the vacation were over,
+and that he was amongst his boys in the big schoolroom? Would he drop
+those hints that no air suited him like Rutherford air?
+
+'I think he ought to be enjoying himself,' she said, a little severely.
+'He is amongst very kind people, who evidently try to make him happy,
+and who treat him like one of themselves; and, then, the girls seem so
+good-natured. Young men do not know when they are well off. You had
+better tell him so, Kester.'
+
+'Shall I say it as a message from you?'
+
+'By no means;' and Audrey spoke very decidedly. 'I never send messages
+to gentlemen.' And as the boy looked rather abashed at this rebuke, she
+continued more gently: 'Of course you will give him our kind regards,
+and I daresay mother will send a message--Mr. Blake is a great favourite
+of hers. But it is not my business if your brother chooses to be
+discontented and to quarrel with his loaves and fishes.'
+
+'I think Cyril would like to be in my place,' observed Kester, quite
+unaware that he was saying the wrong thing; but Audrey took no notice of
+this speech. 'Well, he need not envy me now,' he went on, in a dolorous
+voice. 'It has been a grand time--I have never been so happy in my life;
+but it will soon be over now. Only a fortnight more.'
+
+'I am so glad you have been happy, Kester; and you do seem so much
+better,' looking at him critically.
+
+And indeed a great change had passed over the boy. His face was less
+thin and sharp, and there was a tinge of healthy colour in his cheeks;
+his eyes, too, were less sunken and hollow, and had lost their
+melancholy expression. When Audrey had first seen him on that June
+afternoon, there had been a subdued air about him that contrasted
+painfully with his extreme youth; but now there was renewed life and
+energy in his aspect, as though some heavy pressure had been suddenly
+removed.
+
+'I am ever so much better,' he returned gratefully; and it was then that
+Audrey noticed for the first time his likeness to his brother. He was
+really a nice-looking boy, and but for his want of health would have
+been handsome. 'When I go home'--and here a cloud passed over his
+face--'these weeks will seem like a dream. Fancy having to do nothing
+all day but enjoy one's self from morning to night!'
+
+'Why, I am sure you and Michael work hard enough.'
+
+'Oh, but that is the best pleasure of all!' he replied eagerly. 'I
+should not care for idleness. I like to feel I am making progress; and
+Captain Burnett says I am getting on first-rate. And then think of our
+study, Miss Ross!' and here Kester's face kindled with enthusiasm. 'How
+I shall dream of those moors, and of those great patches of purple
+heather, and the bees humming over the thyme, and the golden gorse, and
+the bracken! No wonder Cyril wants to be in my place!'
+
+'You and Michael are great friends, are you not, Kester?'
+
+'Oh yes!' But though Kester turned on her a beaming look of assent, he
+said no more. He had a boy's dislike to speak of his feelings; and
+Audrey respected this shy reticence, for she asked no further questions.
+But she knew Kester almost worshipped Michael, that a word from him
+influenced him more than a dozen words from any other person; even
+Cyril's opinion must defer to this new friend. For was not Captain
+Burnett a hero? did he not wear the Victoria Cross? and were not those
+scars the remains of glorious wounds, when he shed his blood freely for
+those poor sick soldiers? And this hero, this king of men, this grave,
+clear-eyed soldier, had thrown the ægis of his protection round
+him--Kester--had stooped to teach and befriend him! No wonder Kester
+prayed 'God bless him!' every night in his brief boyish prayers; that he
+grew to track his footsteps much as Booty did, and to read him--as
+Audrey failed to do--by the light of his honest, youthful love.
+
+For Kester's hero was Kester's friend; and in time friends grow to
+understand each other.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+YELLOW STOCKINGS ON THE TAPIS
+
+     'We school our manners, act our parts,
+       But He who sees us through and through
+     Knows that the bent of both our hearts
+       Was to be gentle, tranquil, true.'
+
+                              MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Audrey had not forgotten Mollie all this time. She kept her promise, and
+wrote to her frequently; and she had long letters from her in return.
+Mollie's girlish effusions were very innocent and loving. One day
+Michael asked to read one of them. He smiled as he handed it back.
+
+'She is a dear little girl!' he said heartily; 'I do not wonder that you
+are so fond of her. She is only an undeveloped child now, but there is
+plenty of good raw material. Mollie will make a fine large-hearted woman
+one day--like someone else I know,' he finished to himself. 'If I do not
+mistake, Mollie is cut after Audrey's pattern.'
+
+Now and then Mrs. Blake wrote also. Her letters were airy and
+picturesque, like her talk. Audrey would read them aloud to her mother
+and Michael.
+
+'I really feel as though our Richmond dreams had come true,' she wrote
+once--'as though our favourite castle in the air were built. "Not
+really, mother? you don't think this beautiful house and garden belong
+to us really?" asks Mollie, in her stupid way. You know what a literal
+little soul she is. "Oh, go away, Mollie!" I exclaim quite crossly. "How
+can I help it if you have no imagination?" For all I know, the place is
+ours: no one interferes with us; we come and go as we like; the birds
+sing to us; the flowers bloom for our pleasure. Sometimes we sit by the
+lake, or Mollie paddles me to Deep-water Chine, or we read our history
+on that delicious circular seat overlooking the terraces. Then the
+silence is invaded: a neat-handed Phyllis--isn't that poetically
+expressed?--comes up with a message from that good Mrs. Draper: "Where
+would Mrs. Blake and Miss Mollie have their tea?" Oh, you dear,
+thoughtful creature, as though I do not know who has prompted Mrs.
+Draper! Of course Mollie cries: "The garden, mamma!" and "The garden so
+be it," say I. And presently it comes--such a tea! such fruit, such
+cream, such cakes! No wonder Mollie is growing fat. And how am I to
+thank you and dear Mrs. Ross? I must give it up; words will not express
+my sense of your goodness. But before I finish this rigmarole I must
+tell you that Mollie practises every day for an hour, and keeps up her
+French, and the Roman history progresses well. I am carrying Mollie so
+fast over the ground that we shall soon be dragged at Pompey's
+chariot-wheels; and as she complains that she forgets what we have read,
+I make her take notes and copy them neatly in a book. I know you will be
+glad to hear this.'
+
+'Humph!' was Michael's sole observation, when Audrey had finished.
+
+'It is a very interesting letter--very droll and amusing,' remarked Mrs.
+Ross, in her kindly way. 'Mrs. Blake is a clever woman; don't you think
+so, Michael?'
+
+But Michael could not be induced to hazard an opinion; indeed, his
+behaviour was so unsatisfactory that Audrey threatened to keep the next
+letter to herself.
+
+But the last week was nearly at an end, and, though everyone loudly
+lamented over this fact, it was observed that Mrs. Ross's countenance
+grew brighter every day. She never willingly left her beautiful home,
+and she always hailed her return to it with joy. Not even her Highland
+home, with its heather and long festoons of stag-horn moss, could divert
+her affections from her beloved Woodcote; and the young mistress of
+Hillside fully echoed these sentiments.
+
+'It has been a lovely time, and has done Percy a world of good,' she
+said to her mother, as they were packing up some curiosities together;
+'but I can see he is growing a little tired of idleness; and, after all,
+there is no place like home.'
+
+'I am sure your father and I feel the same; and really, Geraldine, on a
+wet day these rooms are terribly small. I used to take my work upstairs;
+one seemed to breathe freer than in that stuffy parlour that Audrey and
+Michael think so charming.'
+
+'So our last evening has come,' observed Audrey, in a curious tone, as
+she and Michael wandered down to the little bridge they called their
+trysting-place. A tiny rivulet of water trickled over the stones, and
+two or three ducks were dibbling with yellow bills among the miniature
+boulders. Audrey sat down on the low wall, and Michael stooped to pick
+up a pebble, an action that excited frantic joy in Booty's breast.
+
+'Ah, to be sure!' he replied, as he sent it skimming along the water,
+while Booty pattered after it, barking with glee. 'Don't you remember De
+Quincey's observation?' And as Audrey shook her head, for she never
+remembered quotations, he went on: 'He declares that it is a true and
+feeling remark of Dr. Johnson's, that we never do anything consciously
+for the last time (of things, that is to say, which we have long been in
+the habit of doing) without sadness of heart.'
+
+'I think he is right;' and Audrey bent over the low parapet to watch a
+sudden scrimmage below.
+
+Booty was frisking among the boulders, and the ducks, evidently ruffled
+in their feelings, were swimming under the bridge, quacking a loud,
+indignant protest. Even ducks lose their tempers sometimes, and the
+angry flourish of their tails and the pouting of their soft necks and
+their open bills showed keen remonstrance and utter vexation of spirit.
+
+'Booty, come here, and leave those ducks in peace;' and then, while
+Michael threw another pebble or two, she sat asking herself if she felt
+this sadness. Was she glad or sorry to know that to-morrow they would be
+on their way to Rutherford?--would it not be a matter of regret if their
+return were to be suddenly postponed? She had been very happy here; she
+had seen so much of her father and Michael; but----Here Audrey brought
+her inward questioning to an abrupt end.
+
+'It has been a nice time, Michael,' she said gently--'a very nice time
+indeed.'
+
+'Look here! I wish you would substitute another adjective,' he
+remonstrated, quite seriously. '"Nice" is such an insipid, sugary sort
+of word: it has no sort of character about it. Now, if you had said "a
+good old time----"'
+
+'And have drawn down a reproof on myself for talking slang.'
+
+'Well, "a glorious time,"' he corrected--'shall we say that instead? You
+have enjoyed it, have you not?' with one of his searching looks.
+
+'Oh yes; I have never enjoyed myself more. And, Michael'--her love of
+mischief predominating--'I do believe we have not quarrelled once.'
+
+'You have been such a brick, you know, and have given in to me in
+everything. Somehow,' continued Michael, throwing up a pebble and
+catching it again, 'if people give in to me, I am remarkably
+sweet-tempered. We were very near a quarrel once, I remember, but it
+never came to anything. It was a hot afternoon, I think, and we were
+both sleepy.'
+
+'I cannot say I remember it.'
+
+'Well, let it pass. I am in that sort of magnanimous mood that I am
+ready to pronounce absolution on all offences--past, present, and to
+come. By the bye, Audrey, I forgot to tell you something. Kester has had
+the letter he wanted, and Widow Blake graciously signifies her assent.'
+
+'Michael, let me give you a timely warning. We shall quarrel if you call
+my friend by that ridiculous name.'
+
+'A quarrel cannot be carried on by one party alone,' he returned lazily;
+'and I absolutely refuse to consider a mere statement of facts in the
+light of a grievance. Still, if your feelings are wounded, and you
+object to my allusion to your fair friend's bereaved condition----'
+
+'Michael!' with a little stamp, 'will you leave off talking about Mrs.
+Blake and tell me what you mean?'
+
+'It is perfectly simple, I assure you. Kester wrote to his mother to ask
+if he might go up to town with me, and she said "Yes."'
+
+'Must you really go?' rather regretfully. 'It would be so much nicer if
+you came to Rutherford with us. You know,' she continued affectionately,
+'I always miss you so much when you are away.'
+
+Michael gave her one of his quick looks, and then he picked up a smooth
+white stone that had attracted his attention.
+
+'I shall follow you in ten days--at least, that is my present intention,
+unless Stedman's business keeps me.'
+
+'But will not Kester be in your way?'
+
+'Not a bit; he will be a famous companion. He will have the run of my
+rooms, and when I am at the club or with the other fellows he will find
+a hundred ways of amusing himself.'
+
+'It will be such a treat to him.'
+
+'I want it to be a treat; he has not had much pleasure in his life, poor
+fellow! Do you know, Audrey, he has never really seen London. Won't he
+enjoy bowling along the Embankment in a hansom, and what do you suppose
+he will say to Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament? I mean to
+take him to the theatre. Actually he has never seen a play! We will
+have dinner at the Criterion, and I will get Fred Somers to join us.
+Well, what now?' regarding her with astonishment; for Audrey was looking
+at him, and her beautiful gray eyes were full of tears.
+
+'Because you are so kind,' she said a little huskily; 'because no one
+else ever did such kind, thoughtful things, and because you never think
+of yourself at all.'
+
+'Oh, come, you must not begin praising me after this fashion!' he said
+lightly; for he would not show her how much he was touched that there
+were actually tears in her eyes for him.
+
+'And I think it no wonder at all that Kester is so devoted to you.'
+
+'Booty!' exclaimed Michael sadly; and as the little creature jumped on
+his knee, he continued in a melancholy tone: 'Do you know, Booty, you
+have a rival? Someone else beside yourself dares to be devoted to your
+master. Ah, no wonder you wag your tail so feebly! "The moon loves many
+brooks, but the brooks love one moon"--it is an affecting image.'
+
+'Michael, I do wish you would be a little serious this last evening. I
+really mean it. Kester thinks more of you than he does of his own
+brother.'
+
+'Oh, he will be wiser some day,' returned Michael, with the utmost
+cheerfulness. 'You must make allowance for his youth and inexperience.
+He is an odd boy, rather precocious for his age, and his weak health has
+fostered his little peculiarities.'
+
+'You speak as though some apology were needed. You are very dense this
+evening, Michael. I believe I said I was not at all surprised at
+Kester's devotion, you have been so good to him.'
+
+'I think the air of this place is enervating,' replied Michael, jumping
+up from the parapet. 'I know people do not generally consider moorland
+air enervating; but mine is a peculiar constitution, and needs more
+bracing than other men's. Shall we walk back, my dear?' But as he gave
+her his hand to rise, the gentle melancholy of his smile smote her with
+a sudden sense of sadness, for it spoke of some hidden pain that even
+her sympathy could not reach; and she knew that his whimsical words only
+cloaked some vague uneasiness. 'Come, dear, come,' he continued; 'these
+Scotch twilights are somewhat damp and chilly. We will burn that pine
+log this evening, and we will sit round it and tell stories--eh,
+Audrey?'
+
+But, in spite of these cheerful words, Michael was the quietest of the
+group that evening, as he watched from his dusky corner, unperceived
+himself, the play of the firelight on one bright, earnest face. Audrey
+sat on the rug at her father's feet, with her head against his knee. It
+was a favourite position of hers.
+
+'Now, Daddy Glass-Eyes, it is your turn,' she said, using the old
+baby-name. 'Michael has turned disagreeable and has gone to sleep, so we
+will miss him. Kester, are you thinking of your story? It must be a nice
+creepy one, please.'
+
+'I think we ought all to go to bed early, John,' interrupted Mrs. Ross.
+'Audrey is in one of her sociable moods; but she forgets we have a long
+journey before us. Kester is looking as sleepy as possible.' And as Dr.
+Ross always acted on his wife's quiet hints, the fireside circle soon
+broke up.
+
+It had been arranged that the whole party should sleep two nights in
+town. Geraldine and Audrey had shopping to do, and both Dr. Ross and his
+son-in-law had business appointments to detain them. Audrey and her
+mother had tea with Michael one evening, and then they bade him and
+Kester good-bye.
+
+'You will tell Mollie all about me, will you not, Miss Ross?' Kester
+exclaimed excitedly. 'Tell her I am going to St. Paul's, and the
+National Gallery, and the British Museum. Fred Somers is going to pilot
+me about, as Captain Burnett has so much to do. Do you know Fred Somers,
+Miss Ross? He seems a nice sort of fellow.'
+
+Oh yes, Audrey knew all about Fred Somers. He was another _protégé_ of
+Michael's; indeed, the whole Somers family considered themselves
+indebted to Captain Burnett.
+
+Fred's father was only a City clerk, and at one time his head had been
+very much below water. He was a good, weak sort of man; but he had not
+sufficient backbone, and when the tide sat dead against him he lost
+courage.
+
+'The man will die,' said the doctor. 'He has no stamina; he simply
+offers no resistance to the disease that is carrying him off. You should
+cheer him up a bit, Mrs. Somers--crying never mended a sick man yet.'
+For he was the parish doctor, and a little rough in his ways.
+
+'A man has no right to lose courage and to show the white feather when
+he has a wife and six children depending on him,' said Michael.
+
+Some chance--or rather say some providential arrangement--had brought
+him across their threshold. Michael came across all sorts of people in
+his London life, and, though his acquaintance among City clerks was
+rather limited, he had known Mr. Somers slightly.
+
+When Michael stepped up to that sick-bed with that wholesome rebuke on
+his tongue, but his heart very full of sympathy for the stricken man,
+Robert Somers' difficulties were practically over. The debts that were
+chafing the life out of him--debts incurred by sickness, by a hundred
+little disasters--were paid out of Michael's small means; and, despite
+his doctor's prophecy, Robert Somers rose from his bed a braver,
+stronger man.
+
+Michael never lost interest in the family. They would always be pinched
+and struggling, he knew--a City clerkship is not an El Dorado of riches,
+and growing boys and girls have to be clothed and educated. Michael took
+the eldest boy, Fred, under his wing--by some means or other he got him
+into Christ's Hospital. How Fred's little sisters admired those yellow
+stockings!--though it may be doubted whether they were not too warm a
+colour for Fred's private taste. Fred was a Grecian by this time--a big
+strapping fellow he looked beside Kester--with a freckled, intelligent
+face and a mop of dark hair. He was a great favourite of Audrey's, and
+she had once induced her mother to let him spend a fortnight at
+Woodcote. Dr. Ross also took a kindly interest in him.
+
+'Fred will make his mark one day. You are right, Michael,' he observed.
+'He has plenty of brains under that rough thatch of his. He will
+shoulder his way through the world. Christ's Hospital has turned out
+many a fine scholar, and Fred does not mean to be behind them.'
+
+Audrey bade good-bye to Michael somewhat reluctantly.
+
+'You will follow us in ten days, will you not?' she asked rather
+anxiously. 'Remember that London never suits you; you are always better
+at Rutherford, and it will be such a pity to lose your good
+looks--Scotland has done wonders for you. Percival was only saying so
+this morning.'
+
+'I shall be sure to come as soon as I have settled this troublesome
+piece of business,' he returned cheerfully. 'Take care of yourself, my
+Lady Bountiful, and do not get into mischief during your Mentor's
+absence.'
+
+But when the hansom had driven off, Michael did an unusual thing. He
+walked to a small oak-framed mirror that hung between the windows, and
+regarded himself with earnest scrutiny. He was alone; the two boys had
+started off in an omnibus to the National Gallery, and Michael had
+promised to lunch with a friend in Lincoln's Inn.
+
+'My good looks,' he soliloquised. 'I wonder if my health has really
+improved? She was right. I felt a different man in Scotland. I have not
+felt so well and strong since that Zulu slashed me--poor devil! I sent
+him to limbo. It is true the doctors were not hopeless; in time and with
+care, if I could only keep my nerves in order--that was what they said.
+Oh, if I could only believe them--if I could only feel the power for
+work--any sort of work--coming back to me, I would--I would----' He
+stopped and broke off the thread of his thoughts abruptly. 'What a fool
+I am! I will not let this temptation master me. If I were once to
+entertain such a hope, to believe it possible, I should work myself into
+a restless fever. Avaunt, Satanas! Sweet, subtle, most impossible of
+impossibilities--a sane man cannot be deluded. Good God! why must some
+men lead such empty lives?' For a moment the firm, resolute mouth
+twitched under the reddish-brown moustache, then Michael rang the bell
+and ordered a hansom.
+
+It was late on a September evening when Audrey drove through Rutherford.
+She leaned forward in the carriage a little eagerly as they passed the
+Gray Cottage--surely Mollie would be at the window! But no! the windows
+were blank; no girlish face was there to greet her, and with a slight
+feeling of disappointment she drew back again. But nothing could long
+spoil the joy of returning home.
+
+'Oh, mother, does it not all look lovely?' she exclaimed, later on that
+evening. She had been everywhere--to the stables, the poultry-yard, the
+dairy, and lastly to Mrs. Draper's room. The twilight was creeping over
+the gardens of Woodcote before Audrey had finished her rambles. She had
+been down to the lake, she had sat on 'Michael's bench,' she had looked
+at her favourite shrubs and flowers, and Dr. Ross smiled as he heard her
+gaily singing along the terraces.
+
+'Come in, you madcap!' he said good-humouredly. 'Do you know how heavy
+the dews are? There, I told you so; your dress is quite damp.'
+
+'What does it matter?' returned Audrey, with superb disdain. '"The rains
+of Marly do not wet!"--do you recollect that exquisite courtier-like
+speech?--so, no doubt, Woodcote dews are quite wholesome. Is it not
+delicious to be home again? And there is no more "Will you come ben?"
+from honest Jean, and "Will you have a sup of porridge, Miss Ross, or a
+few broth to keep out the cold?" "Home, home, there is no place like
+home!"' And then they heard her singing at the top of her fresh young
+voice, as she roamed through the empty rooms, some old ballad Michael
+had taught her:
+
+     'Oh, there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain,
+     Oh, there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain;
+     Though the heart of this world's as hard as a stane,
+     Yet there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain.'
+
+'Dear child!' observed her mother fondly. 'I do not think anyone ever
+was happier than our Audrey. She is like a sunbeam in the house, John;'
+and then they both paused to listen:
+
+     'Ye wealthy and wise in this fair world of ours,
+     When your fields wave wi' gowd, your gardens wi' flowers,
+     When ye bind up the sheaves, leave out a few grains
+     To the heart-broken widow who never complains.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+'THE LITTLE RIFT'
+
+     'And sigh that one thing only has been lent
+     To youth and age in common--discontent.'
+
+                              MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Audrey was very busy the next morning unpacking and settling a hundred
+things with her mother and Mrs. Draper. She had fully expected that
+Mollie would have made her appearance at her usual time; but when the
+luncheon-hour arrived, and still no Mollie, she felt a little perplexed.
+Kester had entrusted her with numerous messages, and she had now no
+resource but to go herself to the Gray Cottage and deliver them. Audrey
+was never touchy, never stood on her dignity as most people do; but the
+thought did cross her that for once Mollie had been a little remiss.
+
+'I would so much rather have seen her at Woodcote,' she said to herself,
+as she walked quickly down the High Street. Mrs. Ross was going up to
+Hillside to look after Geraldine, and Audrey had promised to join her
+there in an hour's time. 'I never can talk comfortably to Mollie at the
+Gray Cottage; Mrs. Blake always monopolises me so.'
+
+But Audrey carefully refrained from hinting, even to herself, the real
+reason for her reluctance. She had a curious dread of seeing Mr. Blake,
+an unaccountable wish to keep out of his way as much as possible; but
+not for worlds would she have acknowledged this.
+
+She opened the green gate, and Zack bounded out to meet her with his
+usual bark of welcome; but no Mollie followed him, only Biddy, looking
+more like a witch than ever, with a red silk handkerchief tied over her
+gray hair, hobbled across the passage.
+
+'The mistress and Miss Mollie are in the drawing-room,' she said,
+fixing her bright hawk-like eyes on Audrey. 'And how is it with
+yourself, Miss Ross?--you look as blooming as a rose before it is
+gathered. It is a purty compliment,' as Audrey laughed; 'but it is true,
+and others will be telling you so, Miss Ross, avick.'
+
+Audrey blushed a little, for there was a meaning look in the old woman's
+eyes. Then she ran lightly upstairs; the drawing-room door was half
+open, and she could hear Mollie's voice reading aloud; 'Pompey and
+Pharsalia' caught her ear; then she gave the door a little push, and
+Mollie's book dropped on the floor.
+
+'Miss Ross! oh, Miss Ross!' she exclaimed half hysterically, but she did
+not move from her place.
+
+It was Mrs. Blake who took Audrey's hands and kissed her airily on
+either cheek.
+
+'My dear Miss Ross!' she exclaimed, in her soft, impressive voice, 'this
+is almost too good of you. I told Mollie that I knew you would come. "Do
+you think she will have the heart to stay away when she knows that we
+are perfectly famished for a sight of her?" that was what I said when
+Mollie was plaguing me to let her go to Woodcote this morning.'
+
+'But I was expecting her, Mrs. Blake,' returned Audrey, drawing the girl
+to her side as she stood apart rather awkwardly. 'I thought it was
+unkind of Mollie to desert me the first morning. Every time the door
+opened I said to myself, "That is Mollie." I half made up my mind to be
+offended at last.'
+
+'There, mamma, I told you so!' observed Mollie rather piteously; 'I knew
+Miss Ross would be hurt; that is why I begged so hard to go.'
+
+'Poor mamma! she is always in the wrong,' returned Mrs. Blake, with a
+touch of petulance. 'I put it to you, Miss Ross: would it not have been
+utter want of consideration on my part to allow Mollie to hinder you
+with her chattering just when you were unpacking and so dreadfully busy?
+"Take my advice, and stop away until you are wanted," that is what I
+said to Mollie, and actually the foolish child got into a regular pet
+about it; yes, you may look ashamed of yourself, Mollie, but you know I
+said I should tell Miss Ross. You can see by her eyes how she has been
+crying, and all because I insisted you were not to be worried.'
+
+'Mollie never worries me,' returned Audrey, with a kind look at her
+favourite's flushed face.
+
+But she did not dare pursue the subject; she knew poor Mollie was often
+thwarted in her little plans. If her mother had a sudden caprice or whim
+to be gratified, Mollie was the one who must always set her own wishes
+aside--for whom any little disappointment was judged salutary. Perhaps
+the discipline did not really harm Mollie; her humility and
+unselfishness guarded her against any rankling bitterness.
+
+'Mamma never likes me to do things without her,' she said later on that
+afternoon. 'I think she is a little jealous of my going to you so much,
+Miss Ross; she was so angry when I asked to run across this morning,
+because she said I wanted you all to myself. I know I was silly to cry
+about it, but I was so sure you would be expecting me; and last night
+mamma made me come out with her, and I wanted to stay at home and watch
+for you: we went all the way to Brail; that is quite mamma's favourite
+walk now--and, oh, I was so tired.'
+
+'But you must not fret, Mollie; and of course you must do as your mother
+wishes: you know I shall always understand.'
+
+'Mamma says that you are her friend, and not mine,' returned Mollie,
+with big melancholy eyes; 'and that I ought not to put myself so
+forward: but you are my friend, too, are you not, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Of course I am, my dear little girl, just as Michael is Kester's
+friend; and now I must tell you some more about him.'
+
+But this was when she and Mollie were walking towards Hillside.
+
+Audrey had deftly changed the subject after Mrs. Blake's remonstrance;
+but as she talked she still held Mollie's hand. She felt very happy to
+be sitting in that pretty shady drawing-room again, watching the pigeons
+fluttering among the old arches. There was a bowl of dark crimson
+carnations on the little work-table, and a cluster of the same fragrant
+flowers relieved the sombreness of Mrs. Blake's black gown. She was
+looking handsomer than ever this afternoon; she wore a little lace
+kerchief over her dark glossy hair, and the delicate covering seemed to
+enhance her picturesque, Mary Queen of Scots beauty, and to heighten the
+brilliancy of her large dark eyes. Audrey had never seen her look so
+charming, and her soft playful manners completed the list of her
+fascinations. As usual, Audrey forgave her petulance and want of
+consideration for Mollie. It was difficult to find fault with Mrs.
+Blake; she was so gay and good-humoured, she so soon forgot anything
+that had ruffled her, she was so childlike and irresponsible, that one
+seemed to judge her by a separate code.
+
+'I must go!' exclaimed Audrey, starting up, when it had chimed the hour.
+She was in the midst of a description of one of their walking
+expeditions--an attempt to reach a lovely tarn in the heart of the
+hills. 'I must not wait any longer, as my mother will be expecting me.
+Mollie, put on your hat; you can walk with me to Hillside;' and then she
+hesitated.
+
+It was very strange that all this time Mr. Blake's name had not been
+mentioned. They had talked about Kester and Michael, but for once
+Cyril's name had not been on his mother's lips.
+
+'I hope your son enjoyed his holiday?' she asked, as she picked a little
+sprig of scented geranium.
+
+'I am afraid Cyril is not quite in the mood for enjoying himself,'
+returned Mrs. Blake in rather a peculiar tone. 'Mollie, run and put on
+your hat, as Miss Ross told you; and for goodness' sake do brush your
+hair. My boy is not looking like himself,' she continued when they were
+alone. 'I am rather uneasy about him; he has grown thin, and does not
+seem in his usual spirits.'
+
+'He wrote very cheerfully to Kester,' returned Audrey, taken aback at
+this.
+
+'Oh, letters never tell one anything,' replied Mrs. Blake impatiently.
+'I daresay you thought I was as happy as possible from mine, just
+because I must have my little jokes. We Blakes are all like that. I
+daresay, if Cyril were here, you would see nothing amiss with him; but
+you cannot blind a mother's eyes, Miss Ross.'
+
+'I am very sorry,' returned Audrey gravely; 'perhaps Cornwall did not
+agree with him; but he seemed very gay.'
+
+'Oh, as to that, he was gay enough; people always make so much of
+him--he has been a favourite all his life. I never knew any young man
+with so many friends. He has gone up to London now to bid good-bye to
+one of them who is going to India. We do not expect him back until quite
+late to-morrow.'
+
+'Indeed,' was Audrey's brief reply; but as she walked up the hill with
+Mollie she was sensible of a feeling of relief. She liked Mr. Blake, she
+had always liked him; but she had begun to find his quiet, persistent
+watchfulness a little embarrassing--she felt that it invaded the perfect
+freedom in which she delighted. Nevertheless, she was sensible of a
+vague curiosity to know why Mr. Blake was not in his usual
+spirits--could it be Miss Frances, after all?
+
+'Mamma sent me away because she wanted to talk about Cyril,' observed
+Mollie, with girlish shrewdness; 'she is worrying about him, because he
+looks grave, and does not talk quite so much as usual; but I am sure he
+is not ill. He was terribly vexed when Mr. Plumpton telegraphed for him.
+I don't think I ever saw Cyril so put out before. He was quite cross
+with mamma when she wanted to pack his big portmanteau. He declared he
+did not mean to stay away longer than one night; but mamma said she knew
+he could not be back until to-morrow evening. Just before he went away
+he asked what time you were expected, and----'
+
+'Never mind about that,' interrupted Audrey; 'we shall be at Hillside
+directly, and I have heard nothing about yourself. Were you very dull
+without Kester, Mollie? and were our letters long enough to satisfy
+you?'
+
+'Oh, they were just lovely!' returned Mollie enthusiastically; 'only
+mamma complained that everyone had forgotten her, for even Cyril did not
+write half so often. I used to read them over in the evening, and try
+and imagine what you were doing; and I was not always dull, because I
+had so much to do: but that Roman history--oh, Miss Ross!'
+
+'You have worked hard at that, have you not, Mollie?'
+
+'You would say so if you had heard us,' returned Mollie with a shrug;
+'we used to grind away at it until I was quite stupid. Sometimes I
+wanted to practise or to go on with my French. But no: mamma had
+promised Cyril, and there was no help for it. I have filled one
+note-book, but I am not sure I remember half. Mamma reads so fast, and
+she is always vexed if I do not understand; but,' with a look of relief,
+'I don't think we shall do so much now. Mamma has got her walking mood
+again.'
+
+Audrey tried not to smile. 'Next week we shall resume our lessons,
+Mollie.'
+
+'Oh, that will be delightful,'--standing still, for they were now
+entering the shrubberies of Hillside; 'somehow, no one teaches like you,
+Miss Ross: you never seem to grow impatient or to mind telling things
+over again; but mother is always in such a hurry, and she is so clever
+herself that she has no patience with a dunce like me.'
+
+'My dear Mollie, please do not call yourself names--you are certainly no
+dunce.'
+
+'I don't mean to be one any longer,' replied Mollie, brightening up.
+'Oh, Miss Ross, what do you think Cyril says! that I am not to help
+Biddy any more, and that we are to have a woman in to do the rough work.
+I don't think mamma was quite pleased when he talked about it. She said
+it was uncalled-for extravagance, and that we really could not afford
+it; that a little work did not hurt me, and that I ought to be glad to
+make myself useful. Mamma was almost annoyed with Cyril, but he always
+knows how to soothe her down. Of course it will be as he wishes, and
+mamma has promised to speak to you about a woman; and so I shall have
+plenty of time to do my lessons; and it will be my own fault if I am a
+dunce now,' finished Mollie, with a close hug, as the thick shrubs
+screened them from any prying eyes.
+
+'Poor little soul! I must help her all I can,' thought Audrey, as she
+walked on to the house. 'I am glad her brother takes her part;' and then
+her brother-in-law met her in the porch and took her into the
+morning-room, where the two ladies were sitting, and where Geraldine
+welcomed her as though months, and not hours, had separated them.
+
+Audrey's first visit had always been paid to the O'Briens; so the
+following afternoon she started off for Brail as a matter of course.
+
+'Perhaps you will come and have tea with mother, Gage,' she had said on
+bidding her sister good-bye; 'my Brail afternoons always keep me out
+until dinner-time;' and Geraldine had generously assented to this. She
+admired Audrey's benevolence in walking all those miles to see her old
+friend; the whole family took a lively interest in honest Tom O'Brien,
+though it must be allowed that Mrs. Baxter was by no means a favourite.
+
+Audrey would have enjoyed her walk more if she could have kept her
+thoughts free from Mr. Blake; but, unfortunately, the long grassy lanes
+she was just entering only recalled the time when he had carried Booty
+and had walked with her to the gate of Woodcote; and she found herself
+wondering, in a vexed manner, as to the cause of the gravity that had
+excited his mother's uneasiness.
+
+But she grew impatient with herself presently.
+
+'After all, what does it matter to me?' she thought, as she stopped to
+gather some red leaves. 'I daresay it was only Miss Frances, after
+all.'
+
+And then she recoiled with a sort of shock, for actually within a few
+feet of her was a tall figure in a brown tweed coat. She had been so
+busy with her thoughts and the red and yellow leaves that she had not
+seen Mr. Blake leaning against the gate that led into the ploughed
+field. She might even have passed him, if he had not started up and
+confronted her.
+
+'Miss Ross,' grasping her hand, 'please let me gather those for you;
+they are too difficult for you to reach--the ditch is so wide. How many
+do you want? Do you care for that bit of barberry?'
+
+'Thank you; I think I have enough now,' returned Audrey very gravely.
+
+She was quite unprepared for this meeting. She had seen the flash of joy
+in his eyes as he sprang forward to meet her, and she was annoyed to
+feel that her own cheeks were burning. And she was clear-sighted enough
+to notice something else--that Mr. Blake was talking eagerly and
+gathering the coloured leaves at random, as though he hardly knew what
+he was doing, and that, after that first look, he was avoiding her eye,
+as though he were afraid that he had betrayed himself. Audrey's maidenly
+consciousness was up in arms in a moment. The gleam in Cyril's eyes had
+opened hers. Some instinct of self-defence made her suddenly entrench
+herself in stiffness; the soft graciousness that was Audrey's chief
+charm seemed to desert her, and for once in her life she was a little
+abrupt.
+
+'There is no need to gather any more, thank you. I have all I want, and
+I am in a great hurry;' and she held out her hand for the leaves.
+
+But Cyril withheld them.
+
+'Let me carry them for you,' he returned, evidently trying to speak as
+usual; but his voice was not quite in order. 'I know where you are
+going--to that pretty, old-fashioned cottage with the jasmine-covered
+porch; it is not far, and I have not seen you for so long.' Then he
+stopped suddenly, as though something in Audrey's manner arrested him.
+'That is, if you do not object,' he finished, with a pleading look.
+
+But for once Audrey was obdurate.
+
+'Thank you, I would rather carry them myself. There is no need to take
+you out of your way.'
+
+Audrey felt that her tone was cold--that she was utterly unlike herself;
+but her one thought was to get rid of him. But she need not have feared
+Cyril's importunity. He drew back at once, and put the leaves in her
+hand without speaking; but he turned very pale, and there was a hurt
+look in his eyes. Audrey put out her hand to him, but he did not seem to
+see it; he only muttered something that sounded like 'Good-morning,' as
+he lifted his cap and went back to the gate. Audrey walked on very fast,
+but her cheeks would not cool, and a miserable feeling of discomfort
+harassed her. She was vexed with him, but still more with herself. Why
+need she have taken alarm so quickly? It was not like her to be so
+missish and disagreeable. Why had she been so cold, so unfriendly, just
+because he seemed a little too pleased to see her?
+
+And now she had hurt him terribly--she was quite sure of that--she who
+never willingly offended anyone. He had been too proud, too gentlemanly,
+to obtrude himself where he was evidently not wanted; but his pained,
+reproachful look as he drew back would haunt her for the rest of the
+day. And, then, how splendidly handsome he had looked! She had once
+likened him to a Greek god, but it may be doubted whether even the
+youthful Apollo had seemed more absolutely perfect when he revealed
+himself in human form to some Athenian votary, than Cyril Blake in the
+glory of his young manhood. Audrey had not recognised this so keenly
+before.
+
+'I must make it up to him somehow. I cannot bear to quarrel with anyone.
+I would rather do anything than hurt his feelings,' she thought; and it
+needed all her excellent common-sense to prevent her from running back
+to say a kind word to him.
+
+'I was in a hurry--I was too abrupt; I did not mean to be unkind'--this
+was what she longed to say to him. 'Please come with me as far as the
+cottage, and tell me all you have been doing.' Well, and what withheld
+her from such a natural course--from making her amends in this graceful
+and generous fashion? Simply that same maidenly instinct of
+self-preservation. She did not go back; she dare not trust herself with
+Cyril Blake, because she was afraid of him, and perhaps--though this was
+not quite so clear to her--she was afraid of herself. But, all the same,
+she was very miserable--for doing one's duty does not always make one
+happy--and she felt the joy of her home-coming was already marred; for,
+with a person of Audrey's temperament, there is no complete enjoyment if
+she were not in thorough harmony with everyone. One false note, one
+'little rift within the lute,' and the whole melody is spoiled. So
+Audrey's gaiety seemed all quenched that afternoon, and though her old
+friend testified the liveliest satisfaction at the sight of her, and
+Priscilla could not make enough of her, she was conscious that, as far
+as her own pleasure was concerned, the visit was a failure.
+
+But she was aware that no one but herself was conscious of this fact.
+Certainly not honest Tom O'Brien, as he sat smoking his pipe in the
+porch, and listening to her descriptions of Highland scenery with a
+beaming face; neither was Mrs. Baxter a keen observer, as she testified
+by her parting speech.
+
+'You have done father a world of good, Miss Ross,' she said, as she
+walked down to the little gate with Audrey. 'I think there is no one he
+so loves to see, or who cheers him up in the same way as you do. You are
+young, you see, and young people take more cheerful views of life; and
+it is easy to see you have not a care on you. Not that I begrudge you
+your happiness, for no one deserves it more; and long may it continue,
+Miss Ross,' finished Mrs. Baxter, with her usual mournfulness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+'HE IS VERY BRAVE'
+
+     'Ah! life grows lovely where you are;
+       Only to think of you gives light
+       To my dark heart; within whose night
+     Your image, though you hide afar,
+     Glows like a lake-reflected star.'
+
+                              MATHILDE BLIND.
+
+
+For the first time Audrey closed the little gate of Vineyard Cottage
+with a sense of relief that her visit was over. The two hours she had
+just passed had been quite an ordeal to her. True, she had exerted
+herself to some purpose: she had talked and amused her old friend; she
+had partaken of Mrs. Baxter's cakes; she had even summoned up a
+semblance of gaiety that had wholly deceived them. But all the time her
+heart had been heavy within her, and her remembrance of Cyril's grieved
+look came between her and enjoyment.
+
+It had been a lovely afternoon when she had started for her walk, but
+now some heavy clouds were obscuring the blue sky. The air felt heavy
+and oppressive, and Audrey quickened her steps, fearing lest a storm
+should overtake her in the long unsheltered lanes that still lay between
+her and home. She drew her breath a little as she approached the place
+where she had parted with Cyril more than two hours ago. Then she gave a
+great start, and again the blood rushed to her face, for through a gap
+in the hedge she could see a brown tweed coat quite plainly. He was
+still there--still in the same position. She could see the line of his
+shoulders as he stooped a little over the gate, with the peak of his cap
+drawn over his eyes.
+
+Audrey slackened her pace. She felt a little breathless and giddy. She
+would have to pass him quite close, and, of course, if he meant to speak
+to her----But no: though he heard her footsteps, and half turned his
+head and seemed to listen, he did not move his arms from the gate. He
+evidently meant to take no advantage, to let her pass him if she wished
+to do so. Audrey could read this determination in his averted face. Most
+likely he wished her to think that his abstraction was too great to
+allow him to notice her light footfall; he would make it easy for her to
+pass him--a man's eyes can only see what they are looking at. But this
+time Audrey's prudence counselled her in vain; her soft heart would not
+allow her to go past him as a stranger. She stopped and looked at him;
+but Cyril did not turn his head.
+
+'Mr. Blake,' she said gently; and then he did move slightly.
+
+'I am not in your way, I hope,' he said rather coldly. 'I did not know
+it was so late, or I would have gone back. Please do not let me keep
+you, Miss Ross; I am afraid there will be a storm directly.'
+
+'In that case you had better come with me,' she returned, trying to
+speak with her usual friendly ease. But his proud, sad look rather
+daunted her. How could she leave him and go on her way, when he seemed
+so utterly cast down and miserable; and it was all her fault? 'Please do
+not shake your head, Mr. Blake. I know you are hurt with me because I
+was rather abrupt just now; but I meant nothing at all, only that I was
+in a hurry, and----'
+
+'That you did not wish for my company,' he added bitterly.
+
+'Oh, Mr. Blake!'
+
+'You are right--quite right,' he went on, in a tone that pierced
+Audrey's heart, it was so hopeless, so full of pain; and now he did
+place himself at her side. 'I do not blame you in the least; it was the
+truest kindness. I can see that now. It is not your fault that I have
+been a fool. Miss Ross, I wished you to pass; I never meant to speak or
+to obtrude myself on you, but you stopped of your own accord.'
+
+'I wished to apologise to you for my abruptness. I did not like you to
+think me unkind.'
+
+'You are never unkind, you could not be if you tried,' he returned in
+the same passionate tone; 'you are only so absolutely true. You saw what
+I ought never to have shown you, and you thought it only right to check
+me. Yes, I was hurt for a moment, I will allow it. Perhaps in some sort
+of sense I am hurt now. I suppose a man may own to being hurt when his
+heart is half broken.'
+
+'Please, please do not talk so.'
+
+'I will promise never to talk so again,' he returned with sad humility;
+'but I have gone too far to stop now.'
+
+'No, oh no!' trying to check him; but she might as well have tried to
+check a river that had broken bonds. For once Cyril determined that he
+would be heard.
+
+'It is your own fault,' he returned, looking at her; 'you should have
+passed on and left me to my misery. Yes, I am miserable; and you have
+made me so: and yet for all that you are not to be blamed. How could I
+see you, how could I be with you, and not love you? I have loved you
+from the very first hour I saw you.'
+
+'Oh, hush, hush!' Audrey was half sobbing. There were great tears
+rolling down her face; she could hardly bear to hear him or to look at
+him, his face was so white and strained.
+
+'I must always love you,' he went on in the same low concentrated voice.
+'I have never seen anyone like you; there is not another girl in the
+world who would do as you are doing. How can I help losing my heart to
+you? No man could, in my position.'
+
+'I am very sorry,' she murmured.
+
+'Do not be sorry'--and then he saw her tears, and his voice softened
+from its vehemence and became very gentle. 'You are so kind that I know
+you would spare me this pain if you could--but it is not in your power;
+neither is it in mine. Do not be afraid of me,' he went on quickly, as
+she would have spoken. 'Remember I am asking you for nothing. I expect
+nothing. What right have I to aspire to such as you? Even if I have
+dared to dream, my dreams are at an end now, when you have shown me so
+plainly----' He stopped and turned aside his face, but no words could
+have been so eloquent as that silence.
+
+'Mr. Blake, will you let me say something? I am grieved, grieved to the
+heart, that this should have happened. If I could have prevented it, not
+a word of all this should have been spoken; but it is too late to say so
+now.'
+
+'Far, far too late!'
+
+'So we must make the best of it. I must try to forget all that has
+passed, and, Mr. Blake, you must promise me to do the same.'
+
+'I have promised,' he returned proudly. 'I promised you of my own accord
+that I would never talk to you in this way again; but you must not ask
+anything more of me.'
+
+'May I not?' in rather a faltering voice.
+
+'It would be useless,' he replied quickly. 'I can never leave off loving
+you. I would part with my life first. I think I am not one of those men
+who could ever love twice. I am young, still something tells me this;
+but all the same you have nothing to fear from me. I know your position
+and mine.'
+
+'You must not speak as though we were not equal,' she said, in her
+desire to comfort him and raise him up from his despondency; 'it is not
+that. What does one's poverty or wealth matter?'
+
+'No, it is not that,' he answered, with a significance that made her
+lower her eyes; 'in one sense we are equals, for one cannot be more or
+less than a gentleman, and when one has youth and strength, and a
+moderate amount of talents, one can always raise one's self to the level
+of the woman one loves. And if I had thought that you could ever have
+cared for me----' His voice trembled; he could not proceed.
+
+'Mr. Blake, I must beg, I do entreat you to say no more.' Audrey's lips
+were quivering; she looked quite pale. At that moment she could bear no
+more.
+
+'Forgive me,' he said remorsefully. 'I was thinking more of myself than
+you. I am trying you too much.'
+
+She could not deny this, but with her usual unselfishness she strove
+again for some comforting word.
+
+'It will be as though you had not spoken,' she said, in so low a voice
+that he had to stoop to hear her. 'It will be sacred, quite sacred; do
+not let it spoil everything--we--I have been so happy; let us try to
+remain good friends.'
+
+'I will try my best, but it will be very hard.' Perhaps, if she had seen
+his face that moment, she would have known that what she asked was
+impossible. How could he be friends with this girl? Even while he
+assented to that innocent request he knew it could never be.
+
+'Miss Ross,' he said suddenly, for his position was becoming too
+difficult for him, and it was his duty to shield her as much as
+possible, 'we are just in the town, and perhaps it would be better for
+me to drop behind a little. It will not do for people to notice; and now
+the rain is beginning, and if you do not hurry on you will be wet.'
+
+'Very well,' she returned; and then rather timidly she put out her hand
+to him. Cyril did not ignore it this time; he held it fast for a moment.
+
+'You have been good, very patient with me,' he said rather huskily.
+'Thank you for that, as well as for everything else: and then he stepped
+aside and waited for her to leave him.
+
+Audrey's limbs were trembling; she had never felt so agitated in her
+life. She hurried on, panting a little with her haste; but the drops
+fell faster and faster, and just at the entrance to the town she was
+obliged to take refuge in a shed by the roadside. The street was dark,
+and she knew no one could see her. She would have time to recover
+herself a little before she had to answer all her mother's anxious
+questions. There was a carpenter's bench and a pile of planks; she sat
+down on them, and looked out at the heavy torrents of rain. By and by
+Cyril passed, but he did not notice her; he was walking very fast and
+his head was erect, as though he were not conscious of the rain beating
+down on him. Audrey shrank back a little as she saw him. 'He is young,
+but he is strong,' she said to herself; 'he is almost as strong as
+Michael;' and then her tears flowed again, but she wiped them away a
+little impatiently. 'I must be strong, too, for his sake as well as my
+own; it will never do for people to find out his secret. He must be
+spared as much as possible. I must help him all I can.' But as she
+argued herself into calmness she told herself again and again how
+thankful she was that Michael was away. Michael was so observant, so
+clear-sighted, that it was impossible to hoodwink him. He had a terrible
+habit of going straight to the point, of putting questions that one
+could hardly evade. He would have seen in a moment that she had been
+crying, and any refusal on her part to satisfy his inquiries would only
+have deepened his suspicions. 'I could not have faced Michael,' she
+thought, as the rain suddenly stopped and she stepped out into the wet
+gleaming roads.
+
+Audrey played her part in the conversation so badly that night that Mrs.
+Ross observed, uneasily, that she was sure Audrey had taken a chill:
+
+'For she is quite flushed, John,' she continued anxiously, 'and I
+noticed her shiver more than once. She has overheated herself in that
+long walk, and then being caught in that heavy rain has done the
+mischief.'
+
+Dr. Ross looked at his daughter. Perhaps, in spite of his short-sight,
+he was more observant than his wife, for he took the girl's face between
+his hands:
+
+'Go to bed, my child,' he said kindly, 'and I will finish that game of
+chess with your mother;' and Audrey, with a grateful kiss, obeyed him.
+But as Dr. Ross placed himself opposite his wife he seemed a little
+absent, as though he were listening in vain for something. For it was
+Audrey's habit to sing snatches of some gay tune as she mounted the
+stairs. But to-night there was no 'Widow Miller'; it was the Doctor who
+hummed the refrain to himself, as he captured an unwary pawn:
+
+     'When ye bind up the sheaves, leave out a few grains
+     To the heart-broken widow who never complains.'
+
+Audrey felt that night as though she should never sing again--as though
+she had committed some crime that must for ever separate her from her
+old happy self.
+
+To most people this remorse for an unconscious fault would have seemed
+morbid and exaggerated. Thousands of girls have to inflict this sort of
+pain at least once in their lives; the wrong man loves them, and the
+disastrous 'No' must be spoken. Audrey had not even said 'No,' for
+nothing had been asked her--she had only had to listen to a declaration
+of love, an honest, manly confession, that had been wrung from the
+speaker's lips. Wherein, then, did the blame consist? and why was Audrey
+shedding such bitter tears as she sat by her window that night looking
+over the dark garden? For a hundred complex reasons, too involved and
+intricate to disentangle in one brief hour.
+
+Audrey was accusing herself of blindness--of wilful and foolish
+blindness. She ought to have seen, she must have seen, to what all this
+was tending. Again and again Mr. Blake had shown her quite plainly the
+extent of her influence over him. Could she not have warned him in time
+to prevent this most unhappy declaration? Would it not have been kinder
+to have drawn back in the first months of their intimacy, and have
+interposed some barrier of dignified reserve that would have kept him
+silent for ever? But no! she had drawn him on: not by coquetry--Audrey
+was far too high-minded to coquet with any man--but simply by the warm
+friendliness of her manner. She had liked his company; she had accepted
+his attentions, not once had she repulsed him; and the consequence was
+his attachment had grown and increased in intensity day by day, until it
+had overmastered him. He had said that his heart was almost broken, and
+it was her fault. What right had she to be so kind to him, until her
+very softness and graciousness had fed his wild hopes? Was it not true
+when he had implied that his misery lay at her door?
+
+Audrey felt as though her own heart was broken that night--such a
+passion of pity and remorse swept over her. What would she not give to
+undo it all!
+
+'If I could only bear some of his suffering,' she thought, 'if I could
+only comfort him, I should not care what became of myself. I would
+sooner bear anything than incur this awful responsibility of spoiling a
+life;' and Audrey wept again.
+
+But even at this miserable crisis she shrank from questioning herself
+too closely. A sort of terror and strange beating at the heart assailed
+her if she tried to look into her own thoughts. Was there no subtle
+sweetness in the knowledge that she was so beloved? No wish, lying deep
+down in her heart, that it might have been possible to comfort him?
+
+'It would not do--it would not do. I am sure of him, but not of myself,'
+she thought, 'and it would make them all so unhappy. If I could only
+think it right----' and then she stopped, and there was a sad, sad look
+in her eyes. 'I will not think of it any more to-night.' And then she
+knelt and, in her simple girlish way, prayed that God would forgive her,
+for she had been wrong, miserably wrong; and would comfort him, and make
+it possible for them to remain friends: 'for I do not wish to lose him,'
+thought Audrey, as she laid her head on her pillow that, for once in her
+bright young life, seemed sown with thorns.
+
+It seemed to Audrey as though she had never passed a more uncomfortable
+three weeks than those that followed that unfortunate talk in the Brail
+lanes; and, in spite of all her efforts to appear as though nothing had
+happened, her looks and gravity were noticed by both Mrs. Ross and
+Geraldine.
+
+'I told your father that it was a chill,' observed Mrs. Ross, on more
+than one occasion. 'She is growing thin, and her eyes are so heavy in
+the morning. There is nothing worse than a suppressed cold,' she went on
+anxiously, for even a small ailment in one of her children always called
+forth her motherly solicitude.
+
+But Geraldine held another opinion. Audrey never took cold; she had
+often got wet through in Scotland, and it had never hurt her. She
+thought it more probable that Audrey was troubled about
+something--perhaps she missed Michael, or--then she paused, and looked
+at her mother with significance--perhaps, who knows? she might even be a
+little hurt at Mr. Blake's desertion. For a certain little bird--that
+fabulous winged purveyor of gossip, dear to the feminine mind--had
+whispered into young Mrs. Harcourt's ear a most curious story. It was
+said that Mr. Blake had fallen deeply in love with a Cornish beauty, a
+certain Miss Frances Hackett, and that his moody looks were all owing to
+this.
+
+'Edith has seen her,' went on Geraldine, as she repeated this story with
+immense relish; 'she is a pretty little thing, a dark-eyed brunette. The
+Hacketts are very wealthy people, and they say Miss Frances will have a
+few thousand pounds of her own; so he will be lucky if he gets her.
+Perhaps the père Hackett is obdurate, and this may account for Mr.
+Blake's gloom--for he is certainly very bad company just now.'
+
+'Your father thinks he looks very ill; he was speaking to me about him
+last night. It is wonderful what a fancy he has taken to him.'
+
+'I think we all like him,' returned Geraldine, who could afford to
+praise him now her fears about Audrey were removed. 'Miss Frances might
+do worse for herself. He is very clever--a rising young man, as Percy
+says--and then he is so handsome: a girl might well lose her heart to
+him.'
+
+Mrs. Ross was quite willing to regard Mr. Blake as Miss Frances'
+suitor--an unhappy lover was sure to excite her warmest sympathy--but
+she was a little shocked and scandalised at Geraldine's hint.
+
+'My dear,' she said, in a more dignified tone than she usually employed
+to her eldest daughter, 'I do not think you have any right to say such a
+thing of your sister. Audrey is the last girl in the world to fancy any
+man was in love with her, or to trouble herself because he chose to fall
+in love with some one else. I have often seen her and Mr. Blake
+together--he has dined here a dozen times--and her manner has always
+been perfectly friendly with him, as frank as possible--just as it is to
+Michael.'
+
+'I thought she seemed a little constrained and uncomfortable last night
+when Mr. Blake came into the room,' returned Geraldine, who certainly
+seemed to notice everything; but she knew her mother too well to say
+more just then.
+
+With all her softness, Mrs. Ross had a great deal of womanly dignity,
+and nothing would have ruffled her more than to be made to believe that
+one of her girls cared for a man who had just given his heart to another
+woman, and that Audrey--her bright, unselfish Audrey--should be that
+girl. No, she would never have been brought to believe it.
+
+Audrey was quite aware that her sister's eyes were upon her, and she
+exerted herself to the utmost on every occasion when Geraldine was
+present. But gaiety was very far from her, and she felt each day, with a
+certain sickness of heart, that her burden was growing too heavy for
+her. Her position with regard to Mr. Blake was becoming more difficult.
+In spite of his efforts to see as little as possible of her,
+circumstances were perpetually throwing them together. Every day they
+met at luncheon; she must still keep her seat between him and her
+father, but how differently that hour passed now! Instead of that eager,
+low-toned talk, that merry interchange of daily news and plans, Cyril
+would be absorbed in his carving, in his supervision of the boys; he
+seemed to have no leisure to talk to Audrey. A grave remark upon the
+weather, a brief question or two, and then he turned to his
+fellow-master, Mr. Greville. Audrey never tried to divert his attention;
+she listened to the two young men a little wearily. Politics could still
+interest him, she thought; yes, politics were always safe. Once, when he
+had no excuse to offer--for he was very ready with his excuses--he
+joined them at the family dinner. Audrey never passed such a miserable
+evening. She sat opposite him; there was no other guest to break the
+awkwardness--only Mr. Blake and her mother and father and herself.
+
+It was the first time she had been compelled to look at him, and she was
+painfully struck with the alteration in him. Her father was right; he
+certainly looked ill. He was thinner, older, and there were dark lines
+under his eyes. Just at that moment Cyril seemed to become aware of her
+scrutiny; their eyes met, but it was Audrey who blushed and looked
+embarrassed. Cyril did not flinch, only his right hand contracted under
+the table-cloth. She played chess with him afterwards. There was no help
+for it; Dr. Ross had proposed it. Audrey was so nervous that she played
+shamefully, and lost her queen at the third move.
+
+'How stupid of me!' she said, trying to laugh it off.
+
+Cyril looked at her very gravely.
+
+'I am afraid you find this a bore,' he said, with such evident
+understanding of her nervousness that the tears came to her eyes.
+
+When they had played a little longer, he suddenly jumbled the pieces
+together.
+
+'It is unfair to take advantage of you any longer,' he said, jumping up;
+'no one can play without a queen, and you have lost your castles and one
+of your knights, and I was just going to take the other. It is only
+trying your patience for nothing; the game is mine.'
+
+'Yes, it is yours,' returned Audrey, in rather a melancholy voice.
+
+Why had he ended it so abruptly? Could he have noticed how her hand
+shook? How very nervous she had been! She did not dare look at him as he
+bade her good-night.
+
+'I must go,' she heard him say to Dr. Ross. 'I have work to finish;' and
+then he went out, and she heard the door close behind him.
+
+'Is it always to be like this?' thought Audrey, as she stood by her
+window. 'Will he never speak to me or look at me again in the old way?
+To-night he went away to spare me, because he saw how uncomfortable I
+was. He is very brave; I suppose a man's pride helps him. Somehow, I
+think it is easier for him than me. Perhaps I am different from other
+women, but I always feel as though I would rather bear pain myself than
+inflict it on another person.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+'NO, YOU HAVE NOT SPARED ME'
+
+     'Thy word unspoken thou canst any day
+     Speak; but thy spoken ne'er again unsay.'
+
+                        _Eastern Proverb_--TRENCH.
+
+
+Michael was still away. The business that detained him was not to be
+settled as easily as he had expected; there were complications--a host
+of minor difficulties. He was unwilling to return until things were
+definitely arranged.
+
+'I am too proud of my present position,' he wrote to Audrey; 'the mere
+fact that I am of some use in the world, and that one human being feels
+my advice helpful to him, quite reconciles me to my prolonged absence.
+Of course I mean to keep Kester with me. He is perfectly happy, and
+fairly revels in London sights. He and Fred are thick as thieves.
+Abercrombie saw him the other day--you know who I mean: Donald
+Abercrombie. He is a consulting physician now, and is making quite a
+name for himself. He has good-naturedly promised to look into the case.
+He says, from the little he has seen, he is sure the boy has been
+neglected, and that care and medical skill could have done much for him
+in the beginning. Abercrombie is just the fellow to interest himself
+thoroughly in a case like Kester's, and I have great hopes of the
+result. I have written to his brother, but perhaps you would be wise to
+say as little as possible to Mrs. Blake. She is far too sanguine by
+nature; and it would never do to excite hopes that might never be
+gratified. Mr. Blake is of a different calibre; he will look at the
+thing more sensibly.'
+
+Audrey sighed as she laid aside Michael's letter. She seemed to miss him
+more every day, and yet she was quite willing that his absence should be
+prolonged. Michael would have noticed her want of spirits in a moment;
+she would never have been free from his affectionate surveillance. At a
+distance everything was so much easier; she could write cheerfully; she
+could fill the sheets with small incidents and matters of local
+interest, with pleasant inquiries about himself and Kester.
+
+Nevertheless, Michael's face grew graver over each letter. He could not
+have told himself what was lacking to his entire satisfaction, only some
+strange subtle chord of sympathy, as delicate as it was unerring, warned
+him that all was not right with the girl.
+
+'She is not as bright as usual,' he thought. 'Audrey's letters are
+generally overflowing with fun. There is a grave, almost a forced, tone
+about this last one. And she so seldom mentions the Blakes.'
+
+Audrey had certainly avoided the Gray Cottage during the last three
+weeks; even Mollie's lessons were irksome to her. Mollie's tongue was
+not easily silenced. In spite of all her efforts, her cheeks often burnt
+at the girl's innocent loquacity. Mollie was for ever making awkward
+speeches or asking questions that Audrey found difficult to answer; she
+would chatter incessantly about her mother and Cyril.
+
+'Mamma is so dreadfully worried about Cyril!' she said once. 'She wants
+him to speak to Dr. Powell; she is quite sure that he is ill. He hardly
+eats anything--at least, he has no appetite--and mamma says that is so
+strange in a young man. And he walks about his room half the night;
+Biddy hears him. You recollect that evening he dined at Woodcote? Well,
+he never came home that night until past twelve, and Biddy declares that
+his bed was not slept in at all; he must just have thrown himself down
+on it for an hour or two. And he had such a bad headache the next
+morning.'
+
+Audrey walked to the piano and threw it open.
+
+'I am very sorry your brother is not well,' she said in rather a forced
+voice, as she flecked a little dust off the legs. 'Mollie, I think
+Caroline has forgotten to dust the piano this morning. Will you hand me
+that feather-brush, please? I want you to try this duet with me; it is
+such a pretty one!' And after that Mollie's fingers were kept so hard at
+work that she found no more opportunity for talking about Cyril.
+
+Another time, as Audrey looked over her French exercise, she heard a
+deep sigh, and glancing up from the book, found Mollie gazing at her
+with round sorrowful eyes.
+
+'Well, what now?' she asked a little sharply.
+
+'Oh, I am so sorry, Miss Ross!' returned Mollie, faltering and turning
+red; 'I am so dreadfully sorry, Miss Ross, that Cyril has offended you.
+I thought you were such good friends, but now----' She stopped, somewhat
+abashed at Audrey's displeased expression.
+
+'My dear Mollie, I have never been really vexed with you before; but you
+will annoy me excessively if you talk such nonsense. I am not in the
+least offended with your brother--whatever made you say such a
+thing?--and we are perfectly good friends.'
+
+Audrey spoke with much dignity as she took up her pen again.
+
+Poor Mollie looked very much frightened.
+
+'Oh dear, Miss Ross,' she said penitently, 'you are not really cross
+with me, are you? It was not my own idea; only mamma said last night
+that she was sure you were offended about something, for you never come
+to see us now, and your manner was so different when she spoke to you
+after chapel on Sunday; and then she said perhaps Cyril had offended
+you.'
+
+'I tell you it is all nonsense, Mollie!'
+
+'Yes, but I am sure there is something,' returned Mollie, half crying,
+for Audrey had never been impatient with her before. 'Cyril will never
+let me talk to him about you; he gets up and leaves the room when mamma
+begins wondering why you never come. Cyril was quite cross when she
+asked him to give you a message the other day. "It is more in Mollie's
+line," he said; "I never can remember messages," and he walked away, and
+mamma cried, and said she could not think what had happened to him--that
+he had never been cross with her in his life before; but that now she
+hardly dared open her lips to him, he took her up so.'
+
+Audrey sighed wearily, then she gave Mollie a comforting little pat.
+
+'Mollie, dear,' she said kindly, 'I did not mean to be cross with you;
+but you do say such things, you know, and really you are old enough to
+know better'--and as Mollie only looked at her wonderingly--'oh, go
+away!--you are a dear little soul; but you talk as though you were a
+baby; no one is offended. If your brother is not well, why cannot you
+leave him in peace? I don't think you understand that men never like to
+be questioned about their ailments; they are not like women. Cornwall
+certainly did not agree with him.'
+
+'Do you think it is only that? Oh, I won't say another word if you will
+only not be cross with me;' and Mollie relieved her feelings by one of
+her strangling hugs.
+
+Mollie was quite used to people finding fault with her and telling her
+she was a goose. When Audrey kissed her, she sat down and copied her
+exercise in a humble and contrite spirit; it was Audrey who felt sad and
+spiritless the rest of the day. 'It has gone deeper than I thought; it
+has gone very deep,' she said with a sort of shiver, as she walked up to
+Hillside that afternoon.
+
+But a far worse ordeal was before Audrey--one that threw all Mollie's
+girlish chatter into the shade. A few days afterwards she received a
+little note from Mrs. Blake.
+
+     'MY DEAR MISS ROSS,' it began,
+
+     'I am nearly desperate. What have Mollie or I done that we should
+     be sent to Coventry after this fashion? At least, not Mollie--I am
+     wrong there: Mollie still basks in the light of your smiles, is
+     still allowed to converse with you; it is only I who seem to be
+     debarred from such privileges. Now, my dear creature, what can you
+     mean by keeping away from us like this? I was at Woodcote
+     yesterday, but you had flown. I had to sit and chat with Mrs. Ross
+     instead; she is delightful, but she is not her daughter; no one but
+     yourself can ever fill your place; no one can be Miss Ross. Now
+     will you make us amends for all this unfriendliness? If you will
+     only come to tea with me to-morrow I will promise you full
+     forgiveness and the warmest of welcomes.
+
+     'Yours affectionately but resentfully,      M. BLAKE.'
+
+Audrey wrote a pretty playful little answer to this. She was sorry to be
+accused of unfriendliness, but nothing was farther from her thoughts;
+she was very busy, very much engaged. Relays of parents had been
+interviewing them at Woodcote; her sister had not been well, and all her
+afternoons had been spent at Hillside. Mrs. Blake must be lenient; she
+would come soon, very soon, and so on. Mrs. Blake was more formidable
+than Mollie, and Audrey was determined to delay her visit as long as
+possible. Just now she had a good excuse. Geraldine was a little
+delicate and ailing, and either she or her mother went daily to
+Hillside.
+
+Audrey breathed more freely when she had sent off her note; she had
+given it into Cyril's hand at luncheon--a sudden impulse made her choose
+that mode of delivery.
+
+'I wish you would give this to your mother,' she said, addressing him
+suddenly as he sat beside her. 'She wants me to have tea with her
+to-morrow; but it is impossible, I have so much to do just now.'
+
+'I could have told her; there was no need for you to write or to
+trouble yourself in any way. I am afraid my mother is rather exacting;
+it is a Blake foible.' He smiled as he spoke, and there was no special
+meaning in his tone; he seemed to take it as a matter of course that
+Audrey's visits to the Cottage had ceased. 'It will be all right,' he
+said, as he put the letter in his breast-pocket; and then he stopped and
+called some boy to order. 'You will stay in after luncheon, Roberts,' he
+said severely, and after that he did not speak again to Audrey.
+
+But that letter, strange to say, brought things to a climax. The very
+next morning Mollie gave Audrey a note.
+
+'It is from mamma,' she said, rather timidly. 'Would you like me to
+begin my piece, Miss Ross, while you read it?'
+
+'Yes, certainly; but it does not seem a long letter.' And, indeed, it
+only contained a few words:
+
+     'DEAR MISS ROSS,
+
+     'I must see you. If you will not come to me, will you tell Mollie
+     when I may call? But I must and will speak to you alone.'
+
+Audrey twisted up the paper in her hand; then she stood behind Mollie
+and beat time for a moment.
+
+'Mollie,' she said hurriedly, as she turned over the page, 'will you
+tell your mother that I will come to her this afternoon a little before
+three? I shall not be able to stay, but just for half an hour;' and then
+she sat down and quietly and patiently pointed out how an erring passage
+ought to be played. But there was a tired look on her face long before
+the lesson ended.
+
+All her life long Audrey never forgot the strange chill sensation that
+came over her as she read that note; it was as though some dim,
+overmastering force were impelling her against her own will. As she
+crushed the letter in her hand, she told herself that circumstances were
+becoming too strong for her.
+
+Her face was very grave that afternoon as she pushed open the green gate
+and walked up to the open door. It seemed to her as though she were
+someone else, as she crossed the threshold and stood for a moment in the
+little hall. Biddy came out of the kitchen. The mistress was in the
+drawing-room, she said, and Miss Mollie was out; and Audrey, still with
+that strange weight at her heart, went upstairs slowly. Mrs. Blake was
+sitting in her usual seat by the window. She rose without speaking and
+took Audrey's hands, but there was no smile upon her face. She looked
+very pale, and Audrey could see at once that she had been weeping.
+
+'You have come,' she said quietly; 'I thought my letter would bring you.
+Perhaps it was wrong of me to write; I ought to have come to you
+instead. But how was I to speak to you alone? Last night I was almost
+desperate, and then I was obliged to send for you.'
+
+'If you wanted me so much, of course you were right to send for me.'
+
+Audrey was conscious that her manner was cold, and that her voice was
+hardly as sympathetic as usual. She was sure Mrs. Blake noticed it, for
+her eyes filled with tears.
+
+'Oh, how coldly you speak! My poor boy has indeed offended you deeply.
+Oh, I know everything; he was too unhappy last night to hide it any
+longer from his mother. Do you know what he said to me?--that with all
+his strength he could not bear it, and that he must go away.'
+
+'Go away--leave Rutherford?'
+
+'Yes;' and now the tears were streaming down her face, and her voice was
+almost choked with sobs. 'He said he must give it up, and that we must
+all go away--that the effort is killing him, and that no man could bear
+such an ordeal. Oh, Miss Ross'--as Audrey averted her face--'I know you
+are sorry for him; but think what it was for his mother to stand by and
+hear him say such things. My boy--my brave, noble-hearted boy, who has
+never given me an hour's pain in his life!'
+
+'And you have sent for me to tell me this?'
+
+There was something proud, almost resentful, in Audrey's tone.
+
+'Yes; but you must not be angry with me. I think that, if Cyril knew
+that I was betraying him, he would never give me his confidence again.
+Last night I heard him walking about his room, and I went up to him. He
+wanted to send me away, but I would not go. I knelt down beside him and
+put my arms round his neck, and told him that I had found out his
+secret. It had come to me with a sudden flash as I sat beside him in
+chapel last Sunday. You passed up the aisle, and I saw his face, and
+then I knew what ailed him. And in the darkness I whispered in his ear,
+"My poor boy, you love Audrey Ross!"'
+
+Audrey put up one hand to shield her face, but she made no remark. She
+must hear it all; she had brought this misery upon them, and she must
+not refuse to share it.
+
+'He owned it then. I will not tell you what he said; it must be sacred
+between my boy and me. Oh, you do not know him! His nature is intense,
+like mine; he takes nothing easily. When he says that it is killing him
+by inches, and that we must go away, I know he is speaking the truth.
+How is he to live here, seeing you every day, and knowing that there is
+no love for him in your heart? How could any man drag out such a
+hopeless existence?'
+
+'Such things are done every day.' Audrey hardly knew what she was
+saying. A dull pain seemed to contract her heart; he was going away.
+Somehow, this thought had never occurred to her.
+
+'Yes, but not by men of Cyril's nature. He is strong, but his very
+strength seems to make him suffer more keenly. If he stayed here, people
+would begin to talk; he would not always be able to hide what he felt.
+He thinks he ought to go away for your sake. "I am giving her pain now,
+and by and by it will be worse"--those were his very words.'
+
+'I think it would be braver to stay on here. Will you tell him so, Mrs.
+Blake?'
+
+'No, Miss Ross, I will not tell him so; I will not consent to see him
+slowly tortured. If he tells us we must go, I will not say a dissenting
+word. What is my own comfort compared to his? I have had a hard life,
+God knows! and now it will be harder still.'
+
+'But you have other children to consider,' remonstrated Audrey faintly.
+'If you leave here, Mollie and Kester will be sacrificed. Surely, you
+have put this before him.'
+
+'No, indeed, I have not; he has always been my first consideration. Of
+course, I know how bad it will be for the poor children; but if it comes
+to that--to choose between them and Cyril----' And a strange, passionate
+look came into her eyes.
+
+'Hush, hush! I do not like to hear you talk so,' replied Audrey. 'It is
+wrong; no mother ought to make such a difference. You are not yourself,
+or you would not say such things. It is all this trouble.'
+
+'Perhaps you are right,' she returned drearily. 'I think it has half
+crazed me to know we must go away. Oh, if you knew what my life has
+been, and what a haven of rest this has seemed!' She looked round the
+room, and a sort of spasm crossed her face. 'It is all so sweet and
+homelike, and he has loved it so; and now to begin all afresh, and to go
+amongst strangers--and then the loss----' She stopped as though
+something seemed to choke her.
+
+Audrey felt as though she could hear no more. 'It is all my fault,' she
+burst out; 'how you must hate me!' But Mrs. Blake shook her head with a
+sad smile.
+
+'I don't seem to have the power of hating you,' she said, so gently that
+Audrey's lip quivered. 'How can I hate what my boy loves?' and then she
+paused and looked at Audrey, as though the sight of her suppressed
+emotion stirred some dim hope within her: 'If I thought it would help
+him, I would kneel at your feet like a beggar and pray you to have
+compassion upon him; but I know what such pity would be worth--do you
+think Cyril would accept any woman's pity?'
+
+'No, no,' and then Audrey rose and put out her hands in a beseeching
+way. 'Will you let me go? Indeed, indeed, I can bear no more----'
+
+'Yes, you shall go,' returned Mrs. Blake in a stifled tone. 'I have not
+been generous, I have spared you nothing, and yet it is not your fault.
+You have not played with my boy's heart; you never tried to win his
+heart. Cyril said so himself.'
+
+'No, you have not spared me,' was Audrey's answer, and then the two
+women parted without kissing each other--Audrey was too sore, too
+bewildered, for any such caress. They stood holding each other's hands
+for a moment, and then Mrs. Blake walked to the other end of the room
+and threw herself down upon a couch. Audrey looked at her for an
+instant, then she turned and went slowly down the stairs. But as she
+closed the green gate after her, she told herself that she must be alone
+for a little, and with a sudden impulse she turned into the courtyard
+that led to the school-house and chapel. There was one spot where she
+would be in perfect seclusion, and that was the school library; even if
+some stray boy were to make his appearance in search of a book--a very
+unlikely thing at this time in the afternoon--her presence there would
+attract no notice: she had several times chosen it as a cool, quiet
+retreat on a hot summer's afternoon. The sight of the big shabby room,
+with its pillars and book recesses and sloping desks, gave her a
+momentary sense of relief. The stillness soothed her, and the tumultuous
+singing in her head and ears seemed to lull. She sat down in one of the
+inner recesses and looked out on the row of ivy-covered studies and the
+little gate that led down to the town. A tame jackdaw was hopping among
+the stones, and a couple of fan-tail pigeons were strutting near him.
+The mellow brightness of the October sunshine seemed to flood the whole
+court. Oh, how peaceful it looked, how calm and still! and then Audrey
+suddenly put down her face on her hands and cried like a baby. 'Oh, if
+it were only not my fault!' she sobbed; 'but I cannot, cannot bear it,'
+and for a time she could do nothing but weep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+'DADDY, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU'
+
+                             'To his eye
+     There was but one beloved face on earth,
+     And _that_ was shining on him.'
+
+                                     CHAPMAN.
+
+
+Audrey never knew how long she sat there, shedding those healing tears,
+every one of which seemed to relieve her overcharged heart; it was a
+luxury to sit there in that cool shadowed stillness. Presently she would
+rouse herself and go back to her world again; presently, but not just
+now! By and by she would think it all out, she would question her own
+heart more closely. Hitherto she had feared any such scrutiny--now it
+would be selfish, cowardly, to avoid it any longer; but at the present
+minute she was only conscious that she and everyone else were miserable.
+
+At this moment she heard footsteps crossing the courtyard. Then, to her
+dismay, they entered the lobby. She had only just time to drag down a
+book from the shelves and open it haphazard; it was a volume on natural
+history. Anyone would have thought her absorbed, she pored so
+attentively over that plate of gaudy butterflies, never raising her head
+to look at the new-comer, who stood a few yards off regarding her with
+unqualified astonishment. Cyril Blake--for it was he, and no other, who
+had entered the library--would willingly have withdrawn without
+attracting her notice; but one of the boys in the sanatorium wanted a
+certain fascinating book of adventures, and he had promised to fetch it.
+He knew the volume was in this very recess, and he saw with some
+annoyance that it would be necessary to disturb her.
+
+'Miss Ross,' he said, in that quiet, guarded tone in which he always
+addressed her now, 'may I trouble you to move just for one moment? I am
+so sorry to disturb you, but Willie Taylor--' and then he stopped as
+though he were suddenly petrified.
+
+Audrey had risen quickly, but as she moved aside he had a full view of
+her face--the flushed cheeks and swollen eyelids told their own tale.
+
+'Good heavens!' he exclaimed, forgetting his errand and speaking in
+excessive agitation, 'you are unhappy--something is the matter!' and
+Cyril turned quite pale.
+
+Poor Audrey! her feelings were not very enviable at that moment. That
+she should be discovered by the very person whom she was most anxious to
+avoid! If he would only go away and leave her, and not stand there
+asking her questions! But nothing was farther from Cyril's intentions.
+For the minute he had forgotten everything, except that she was unhappy.
+
+'You are not well, or else something has been troubling you,' he
+continued, and his voice softened with involuntary tenderness. 'Miss
+Ross, you promised that we should be friends--will you not treat me as
+one now? There is nothing I would not do to help you, if you would only
+tell me what is troubling you.'
+
+'It is impossible,' she returned with a little sob. Oh, if he would only
+go away, and not speak to her so kindly! 'One must be troubled
+sometimes, and no one can help me--if you will only leave me to myself.'
+
+'Leave you like this?'
+
+'Yes, indeed--indeed. I cannot talk;' and Audrey wiped away the tears
+that seemed to blind her. She so seldom gave way--she so seldom
+permitted herself this feminine luxury of tears--but when once she set
+them flowing they were simply uncontrollable. She could not help what
+Cyril thought of her. 'If you would only go away,' she repeated, turning
+from him as he stood there as though rooted to the spot.
+
+'I cannot go;' and here Cyril's lips became quite white under his
+moustache.
+
+Some sudden intuition of the truth had come to him. Why had he not
+thought of that before? It had never even occurred to him. An hour ago
+he had met Mollie wandering about the town disconsolately. Miss Ross was
+at the Cottage, she had said; it was only a call, and she had taken the
+message herself; and then her mother had given her some errands to do,
+and had charged her strictly not to return for at least an hour.
+
+'Mamma never likes me to be at home when Miss Ross comes,' Mollie had
+observed in an aggrieved tone. But Cyril had taken no notice of the
+speech--he knew his mother's little ways, and no suspicion of the truth
+had come to him. It was only the sight of Audrey's emotion that
+quickened it into life now.
+
+'You have seen my mother,' he exclaimed; and here his face grew dark and
+stern. 'She has been talking to you--making you unhappy. Miss Ross,' as
+she remained silent, 'you must answer me. This concerns me very closely.
+I have a right to know if my mother has betrayed me!'
+
+His tone frightened Audrey.
+
+'You must not be vexed with her,' she said, rousing herself to defend
+the absent. 'She is very unhappy, and of course it troubled me.' Audrey
+spoke with her usual simplicity--what was the use of trying to hide it
+any longer? Cyril's impetuous pertinacity gave her no chance of escape.
+
+'And she told you that I was going away?'
+
+Audrey bowed her head.
+
+'It was very wrong,' he returned, still sternly. 'Whom is a man to
+trust, if he cannot trust his own mother? She has betrayed my
+confidence. It was cruel to me, but it was far more cruel to you--it is
+that I cannot forgive.'
+
+'No, no! You must not say that--she did not mean to be cruel, Mr. Blake.
+Of course I ought not to have known this, and of course it has made me
+very unhappy. But now I must ask you something. Will you not wait a
+little? Things may be better--easier----' And here she looked at him
+timidly, and her expression was very sweet.
+
+But Cyril was not looking at her; he was having a hard fight with
+himself. He was angry--justly angry, as he thought; nay, more, he was
+humiliated that his mother should have appealed to this girl--that,
+knowing her kind heart, she should have inflicted this pain on her. The
+sight of her grief, her gentleness, almost maddened him, and he averted
+his eyes as he answered her.
+
+'They cannot be easier. But do not mistake my meaning--perhaps my mother
+has misled you--let me put it right. No pain or difficulty is driving me
+away; do not think that for a moment. However hard it might be to go on
+living here, I think I could have endured it, if it were only right to
+do so. But I have made up my mind that it is not right, and to-morrow
+morning I shall speak to Dr. Ross.'
+
+'Oh no, no!' and here Audrey clasped her hands involuntarily. But
+Cyril's eyes were fixed on some carrier-pigeons fluttering across the
+courtyard.
+
+'It is my duty to do it, and it must be done. If Dr. Ross questions me,
+I shall tell him the truth: "I must go away because I have dared to love
+your daughter; and if I stayed here I should never cease from my efforts
+to win her." That is what I should tell him, Miss Ross. I think he will
+not press me to remain under these circumstances.' And Cyril gave a
+bitter little laugh.
+
+'Perhaps not;' and here Audrey sank down upon her chair, for she felt
+weak and giddy.
+
+'I am glad, at least, that you think I am doing right.'
+
+'I did not say so.'
+
+'Pardon me;' and here Cyril did try to get a glimpse of her face, for
+something in her tone baffled him. 'You, who know all, must of course
+approve my conduct. If I stayed here I could not answer for myself; it
+is better--safer--that I should go; though wherever I am,' here his
+voice trembled with exquisite tenderness, 'I must always love you.'
+
+'Then in that case you had better remain.'
+
+Audrey tried to shield her face as she spoke, but he had seen a little
+tremulous smile flit over her features, and she could not hide her
+dimple. What could she mean? Was he fooling himself--dreaming? The next
+moment he had dropped on one knee beside her, and was begging her, with
+tears in his eyes, to look at him.
+
+'This is a matter of life and death to me,' he implored, compelling her
+by the very strength of his will to turn her blushing face to him. 'Miss
+Ross--Audrey'--his tone almost amounting to awe--'you cannot mean that
+you really care for me?'
+
+'I am afraid I do care too much to let you go,' she half whispered. But
+as he grasped her hands, and looked at her almost incredulously: 'Why is
+it so impossible? I think in a way I have long cared.'
+
+But even then he did not seem satisfied.
+
+'It is not pity--you are sure of that? It is nothing that my mother has
+said? Audrey, if I thought that, I would rather die than take advantage
+of you. Tell me, dear'--and the pleading of his eyes was almost more
+than she could bear--'you would not so humiliate me?'
+
+'No, Cyril, I would not.'
+
+His name came so naturally to her, she hardly knew she said it; but a
+gleam of joy passed over the young man's face as he heard it, and the
+next moment he drew her towards him.
+
+Audrey took it all quite simply; she listened to her young lover's
+passionate protestation of gratitude, half shyly, half happily. The
+reverence with which he treated her touched her profoundly; he did not
+overpower her with the force of his affection. After the first few
+moments of agitated feeling he had quieted himself and her.
+
+'I must not try you too much,' he said. 'If I were to talk for an hour I
+could never make you understand how happy I am. It is a new existence;
+it is wonderful. Yesterday I was so tired of my life, and
+to-day--to-day, Audrey----'
+
+'I am happy, too,' she said, in a soft, contented voice. 'All these
+weeks have been so miserable; I seemed to miss you so--but you would
+have nothing to say to me. Do you remember that evening when you took my
+queen? Oh, how unhappy I was that night! And you saw it, and went away.'
+
+'I did not go far,' he returned, taking possession of one hand--the soft
+white hand that lay so quietly in his. 'It was the only thing I could do
+for you--to keep out of your sight as much as possible. I walked up and
+down the road like a sentinel for hours; it did not seem possible to go
+home and sleep. I felt as though I never wanted to sleep again. I could
+only think of you in your white gown as you sat opposite to me, and how
+your hand trembled, and how cold it felt when I said good-night. I
+thought it was all your goodness, and because you were sorry for me.
+Were you beginning to care for me a little even then, my darling?'
+
+'I do not know,' she answered gently. 'You must not question me too
+closely. I hardly understand myself how it has all come about.'
+
+'No,' he returned, looking at her with a sort of worship in his
+eyes--the worship with which a good, true woman will sometimes inspire a
+man, and which makes their love a higher education; 'it is all a
+miracle. I am not worthy of you; but you shall see--you shall see how
+dearly I shall prize this precious gift.'
+
+And then for a moment they were both silent.
+
+'You will not now forbid me to speak to your father?' he said presently;
+and a shade of anxiety crept into his voice in spite of his intense
+happiness.
+
+The thought of that interview somewhat daunted him. It was surely a
+daring thing for a junior classical master to tell his chief that he
+had won his daughter's affections; it was an ordeal that most men would
+have dreaded.
+
+Audrey seemed to read his thoughts.
+
+'I hope I shall never hinder you from doing your duty,' she said
+quietly, 'and, of course, you will have to speak to him; but'--looking
+at him with one of her radiant smiles--'you will find him quite
+prepared.'
+
+'Do you mean that you will speak to him first? Oh no; it is surely my
+prerogative to spare you this.'
+
+'But I do not wish to be spared,' she returned happily. 'Cyril, I do not
+think you have any idea of what my father is to me, and I to him. Do you
+suppose I should sleep until I have told him? There has never been any
+secret between us. Even when I was a little child, I would take him all
+my broken toys to mend, and if I fell down or cut my finger--and I was
+always in mischief--it was always father who must bind it up, and kiss
+and comfort me; and, with all his hard work, he was never too busy to
+attend to me.'
+
+'I think in your place I would have gone to your mother. You must not be
+jealous, darling, if I tell you that I fell in love with her first.'
+
+'I am so glad. Dear mother! everyone loves her. But when Gage and I were
+children, I was always the one most with father. I think there is no one
+in the world like him, and Michael says the same. I must write and tell
+Michael about this.'
+
+'Oh yes; he is like your brother. I remember you told me so. But,
+dearest, I must confess I am a little anxious about Dr. Ross. I am only
+a poor man, you know; he may refuse his consent.'
+
+Audrey shook her head.
+
+'Father is not like that,' she said tranquilly. 'We think the same on
+these matters; we are both of us very impulsive. I have some money of my
+own, you know--not much'--as Cyril's brow contracted a little--'but
+enough to be a real help. But do not let us talk about that; I have
+never cared for such things. If you had not a penny in the world you
+would be still yourself--Cyril Blake.'
+
+Audrey looked so charming as she said this, that the cloud on Cyril's
+brow cleared like magic.
+
+'And you do not think your father will be angry?'
+
+'Angry! Why should he be angry?' opening her eyes widely. 'He may be
+disappointed--very probably he will be so; he may think I might have
+done better for myself. He may even argue the point a little. The great
+blessing is that one is not obliged to consult one's sister in such
+cases; for'--looking at him with her old fun--'I am afraid Gage would
+refuse her consent.'
+
+'Yes; I am afraid both Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt will send me to Coventry.'
+
+'To be sure they will; but I suppose even Coventry will be bearable
+under some circumstances. Oh dear!' interrupting herself, 'do you see
+how dark it is growing? We have actually forgotten the time. I must
+really be going.'
+
+'I ought not to have kept you so long,' he returned remorsefully.
+'There, you shall go! I will not detain you another moment. I think it
+will be better for you to go alone. I will stay here another half-hour;
+I could not speak to anyone just now. I must be alone and think over
+this wonderful thing that has happened.'
+
+'Very well,' she replied. But some minutes elapsed before the last
+good-bye was said. There were things he had forgotten to say. More than
+once, as she turned away, he detained her with some parting request.
+When she had really gone, and the last sound of her footsteps died away,
+he went back into the dusky room, and threw himself down on the chair
+where she had sat, and abandoned himself to a delicious retrospect.
+
+'And it is true--it is not a dream!' he said to himself when, an hour
+later, he roused himself to go back to the Gray Cottage. 'Oh, thank God
+that He has given me this priceless gift! If I could only be worthy of
+her!' finished the young man with tender reverence, as he crossed the
+courtyard and let himself in at the green door.
+
+Mrs. Ross looked at her daughter rather anxiously that evening; she
+thought Audrey was rather quiet and a trifle subdued. Geraldine and her
+husband were dining at Woodcote. Audrey, who had forgotten they were
+expected, was rather taken aback when she saw her sister, and made her
+excuses a little hurriedly. She had been detained--all sorts of things
+had detained her. She had been to the Gray Cottage and the library. She
+had not walked far enough to tire herself--this being the literal fact,
+as not a quarter of a mile lay between Woodcote and the Cottage. Oh no,
+she was not the least tired, and she hoped Geraldine felt better.
+
+'Much better, thank you,' returned Geraldine, with one of her keen
+glances; and then she somewhat elaborately changed the subject. Audrey
+was not subjected to any cross-examination; indeed, there was something
+significant in Mrs. Harcourt's entire dearth of curiosity; but all the
+time she was saying to herself: 'Audrey has been crying; her eyes are
+quite swollen, and yet she looks cheerful. What can it mean? What has
+she been doing? She has hardly had time to smooth her hair, it looks so
+rough. I wonder if Percival notices anything! I am sure father does, for
+he keeps looking at her,' and so on.
+
+It was Mr. Harcourt who was Audrey's _bête noir_ that evening. He was in
+one of his argumentative moods, and could not be made to understand that
+his sister-in-law would have preferred silence. He was perpetually
+urging her to single combat, touching her up on some supposed tender
+point in the hope of getting a rally. 'I suppose Audrey, who goes in for
+women's rights so warmly, will differ from me if I say so and so?' or
+'We must ask Audrey what she thinks of that, my dear; she is a great
+stickler for feminine prerogative;' and then he would point his chin,
+and a sort of sarcastic light would come into his eyes. It was positive
+enjoyment to him when Audrey rose to the bait and floundered hopelessly
+into an argument. But, on the whole, she acquitted herself ill. 'You are
+too clever for me to-night, Percival,' she said a little wearily, as he
+stood talking to her with his coffee cup in his hand; 'I cannot think
+what makes men so fond of debating and argument. If they can only
+persuade a person that black is white, they go home and sleep quite
+happily.'
+
+'It is such a triumph to make people see with one's own eyes,' he
+returned, as though accepting a compliment. 'Have you ever read the
+_Republic_ of Plato? No! I should recommend it for your perusal: it is
+an acknowledged masterpiece; the reasoning is superb, and it is rich in
+illustrations. The want of women is that, with all their intelligence,
+they are so illogical. Now, if women only had the education of men----'
+
+'Harcourt, I think Geraldine is tired, and would like you to take her
+home,' observed Dr. Ross, interrupting the stream of eloquence; and Mr.
+Harcourt, without finishing his sentence, went at once in search of his
+wife. Women might be illogical, but they were to be considered, for all
+that. With all his satire and love of argument, Mr. Harcourt valued his
+wife's comfort before his own. 'I am quite ready, dear,' he said, as
+she looked up at him with a deprecating smile; 'and I know your mother
+will excuse us.'
+
+Dr. Ross had walked with his daughter to the gate. Young Mrs. Harcourt
+was a woman who always exacted these little attentions from the menkind
+around her; without demanding them, she took them naturally as her right
+and prerogative. It would have seemed strange to her if her father had
+not offered her his arm. 'Good-bye, father dear,' she said, giving him
+her firm cool cheek to kiss; 'Percy and I have had such a nice evening.'
+
+Dr. Ross walked back to the house; then he went to his study and lighted
+his reading-lamp. There was a certain interesting debate in the _Times_
+which he wished much to read--a Ministerial crisis was at hand, and Dr.
+Ross, who was Conservative to the backbone, was aware that his party was
+menaced. He had just taken the paper in his hand when Audrey came into
+the room. 'Good-night, my dear,' he said, without looking up; but Audrey
+did not take the hint.
+
+'Daddy, I want to speak to you,' she said very quietly; 'will you please
+put that paper down for a moment?' And then she added, 'I want to speak
+to you very particularly.'
+
+Dr. Ross heaved a sigh and lowered his paper somewhat reluctantly.
+'Would not another time have done as well?' he grumbled good-humouredly;
+'Harcourt has taken up all the evening. That is the worst of having an
+elderly son-in-law; one is bound to be civil to him; one could not tell
+him to hold his tongue, for example.'
+
+'I think Percival would resent such a hint,' returned Audrey rather
+absently. She had drawn a low chair close to her father's knee, so that
+she could touch him, and now she looked up in his face a little
+pleadingly.
+
+'Well, what is it, child?' he went on, still fingering his paper; 'I
+suppose you want help for some _protégée_ or other--moderation in all
+things. I warn you that I have not got Fortunatus's purse.'
+
+'It is not money I want,' she returned, so gravely that he began to feel
+uncomfortable. 'Daddy, it is something very, very different. This
+afternoon Cyril Blake spoke to me, and I--that is, we--are engaged.'
+
+Dr. Ross gave a great start and dropped the _Times_ as though it burnt
+him. For a moment he did not speak. With all his mildness and
+benevolence, he was a man of strong passions, though no one would have
+guessed it from his habitual self-control.
+
+'We are engaged,' she repeated softly, and then she stroked her father's
+hand; but he drew it rather quickly away.
+
+'Audrey,' he said, in a voice that she did not recognise, it was so
+stern, so full of displeasure; 'I would rather have heard anything than
+this, that a child of mine should so far forget herself as to engage
+herself to any man without her parents' consent.'
+
+'Oh, daddy----' she began caressingly, but he stopped her.
+
+'It was wrong; it was what I would not have believed of you, Audrey; but
+with regard to Mr. Blake, it was altogether dishonourable. How dared
+he,' here the Doctor's eyes flashed through his spectacles, 'how dared
+he win my daughter's affections in this clandestine way?'
+
+'Father, you must not speak so of Cyril!' returned Audrey calmly, though
+she was a little pale--a little disturbed at this unexpected severity;
+'it is not what you think: there was nothing clandestine or
+dishonourable. He did not mean to speak to me; it was more my fault than
+his. You shall hear all, every word from the beginning. Do you think I
+would hide anything from my father?' And here two large tears welled
+slowly from Audrey's eyes, but she wiped them away. Perhaps her
+gentleness and the sight of those tears mollified Dr. Ross, for when
+Audrey laid her clasped hands upon his knee he did not again repulse
+her. Nay, more, when she faltered once in telling her story, he put his
+hand on her head reassuringly.
+
+'Is that all you have to tell me, my dear?' and now Dr. Ross spoke in
+his old kind voice.
+
+'Yes, father dear; you have heard everything now, and--and--'
+beseechingly, 'you will not be hard on us!'
+
+'Hard on him, I suppose you mean,' returned Dr. Ross, with rather a sad
+smile; 'a man is not likely to be hard to his own flesh and blood. I
+still think he has acted rather badly, but I can make allowance for him
+better now--he was sorely tempted. But now I want you to tell me
+something: are you sure that your happiness is involved in this--that it
+would really cost you too much to give him up?'
+
+Audrey looked at her father with some astonishment--that wide,
+clear-eyed glance conveyed reproach.
+
+'Do you think it necessary to ask me such a question?' she said, with a
+little dignity; 'should I have engaged myself to any man without loving
+him?'
+
+'But he may have talked you into it; you may have mistaken your
+feelings,' suggested Dr. Ross; but Audrey shook her head.
+
+'I am not a child,' she said, rather proudly. 'Father, you have always
+liked Mr. Blake. You can surely have no objection to him personally?'
+
+'Yes, but my liking did not go to the extent of wishing him to be my
+son-in-law,' he replied, with a touch of grim humour; 'in my opinion,
+Audrey, Mr. Blake is far too young.'
+
+'He is three-and-twenty,' she pleaded; 'he is two months older than I
+am. What does age matter, father? He will grow older every day. I know
+some men are boyish at that age; but I think Cyril's life has matured
+him.'
+
+'Still, I would rather have entrusted you to an older man, and one who
+had in some measure made his position. Mr. Blake is only at the
+beginning of his career; it will be years before he achieves any sort of
+position. Audrey, you know me well enough by this time: I am not
+speaking of his poverty, though that alone should have deterred him from
+aspiring to my daughter. We think alike on these points, and I care
+nothing about a rich son-in-law; but Mr. Blake has only his talents and
+good character to recommend him. He is far too young; he is poor, and
+his family has no social standing.'
+
+'But, father, surely a good character is everything. How often I have
+heard you say what a high opinion his Dean had of him, and what an
+excellent character he had borne at school and college; and then think
+what a son and a brother he is--how unselfish, how hard-working! How
+could any girl be afraid of entrusting her future to him?'
+
+Dr. Ross sighed. Audrey's mind was evidently made up. Why had he brought
+this misfortune on them all by engaging this fascinating young
+master--for he certainly looked upon it as a misfortune. After all, was
+it any wonder that Cyril Blake, with his perfect face and lovable
+disposition, had found his way to his daughter's heart? 'Why could he
+not have fallen in love with someone else?' he groaned to himself; for
+Audrey was the very apple of his eye, and there was no one he thought
+good enough for her, unless it were Michael. Not that such an idea ever
+really occurred to him. Michael's ill-health put such a thing out of the
+question; but Michael was his adopted son, and far above the average of
+men, in his opinion.
+
+'Father, you will remember that my happiness is involved in this,'
+Audrey said, after a little more talk had passed between them. 'You will
+be good to Cyril when he speaks to you to-morrow.'
+
+'Oh yes; I will be good to him.'
+
+And then Audrey laid her hot cheek against him, and thanked him as she
+bid him good-night; but when she had gone there were no debates read
+that night--Dr. Ross had too many thoughts to occupy him as he sat alone
+in his empty study.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+'I FELT SUCH A CULPRIT, YOU SEE'
+
+     'Still, it seems to me that love--true and profound love--should be
+     a source of light and calm, a religion and a revelation, in which
+     there is no place left for the lower victories of vanity.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+It cannot be denied that Cyril Blake had rather a hard time of it in the
+Doctor's study. Dr. Ross received him kindly; but his kindness was a
+trifle iced as he shook hands with the young man, and then seated
+himself in his big easy-chair. He groaned inwardly: 'I am an old fool,'
+he thought, 'ever to have brought him here. How confoundedly handsome
+the fellow is! if one could only honestly dislike him!' and then he
+assumed a judicial aspect as he listened to the culprit.
+
+On the whole, Cyril acquitted himself fairly; he was very pale, and
+hesitated a little over his words; but he stated his case with
+sufficient eloquence. His love for Audrey bore him triumphantly even
+through this ordeal.
+
+'You have reason to be angry with me,' he said with ingenuous frankness.
+'I had no right to speak to Miss Ross until I had gained your permission
+to do so.'
+
+'It was certainly a grievous mistake, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'You are very kind not to call it by another name; I will own frankly it
+was a mistake. I must beg you to make allowances for a very strong
+temptation. Under some circumstances a man is not always master of
+himself.'
+
+Dr. Ross half smiled. After all, this braw wooer was bearing himself
+with manly dignity.
+
+'I hope you will believe me,' continued Cyril earnestly, 'when I say
+that I acted with no preconceived intention. My first declaration was
+perfectly hopeless. I expected nothing, asked for nothing; on the second
+occasion'--here he paused, and, in spite of his nervousness, a light
+came in his eyes--'circumstances forced me to speak.'
+
+'Circumstances can be controlled, Mr. Blake. If you had come to me, for
+example----'
+
+'It had been my intention to come to you, Dr. Ross, and to tender my
+resignation. I had made up my mind that it was my duty to leave this
+place. I had even spoken to my mother on the subject. "I love your
+daughter, and therefore it will not be right for me to stay." These were
+the very words I should have spoken to you, only--she--she--asked me not
+to go;' and here the young man's voice trembled.
+
+Dr. Ross's magisterial aspect relaxed a little; his good heart, yearning
+only for his child's happiness, began to relent.
+
+'I am quite sure of your affection for Audrey, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'You may be sure of it. There is no proof you could ask that would be
+refused by me. If I thought--that is, if you and she thought that this
+would not be for her happiness, I should be ready, even now, to go
+away.'
+
+'Thank you! I can quite believe that you mean what you say; but I shall
+not put you to so severe a proof. My child told me last night that her
+mind was made up--indeed, I understand that you and she are already
+engaged.'
+
+'Only with your permission, sir.'
+
+'I do not see how I am to withhold it when the girl tells me that her
+happiness is involved. I will speak to you plainly, Mr. Blake. You are
+certainly not in the position in which I should wish to see my future
+son-in-law. A man of your age, at the very beginning of his career, has
+no right to think of marrying.'
+
+Cyril flushed.
+
+'I do not think of it. I must work my way before such a thing would be
+possible.'
+
+'You mean because you are poor. Poverty is, of course, a serious
+obstacle; but just then I was thinking more of position. I should hardly
+be willing for my daughter to marry a junior classical master. Her
+sister is in a far better position.'
+
+'I shall hope not always to be a junior master, Dr. Ross.'
+
+'True; and, of course, interest can do a great deal. I must speak to
+Charrington, and see what is to be done in the future. Perhaps you know
+that Audrey has a little money of her own?'
+
+'I am sorry to hear it.'
+
+'Their grandfather left them each five thousand pounds--as Audrey is of
+age, she is, of course, her own mistress. It was my intention to give
+her a couple of thousands on her marriage--Geraldine had it--anything
+else will only come to them on my death.'
+
+'I wish you had not told me all this.'
+
+Dr. Ross smiled.
+
+'You are young, Blake,' he said, in his old friendly manner, 'or you
+would not be so romantic as to wish Audrey were penniless. You will find
+a few thousands very serviceable by and by, when, in the course of time,
+a house falls vacant. I am speaking of the future, mind--for I do not
+mean you to have Audrey for at least a couple of years; we are in no
+hurry to lose her, and you must make your way a little first. Now I
+think we have talked enough for the present. I will just have a word
+with Audrey, and send her to you.' Then he held out his hand, and Cyril
+grasped it with a word or two of gratitude.
+
+Meanwhile Audrey, seated close to her mother on the drawing-room couch,
+was pouring out the whole story. She told it very comfortably, with her
+face resting against her mother's shoulder, and only interrupted by a
+tearful inquiry at intervals.
+
+'Oh, Audrey! Oh, my darling child!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross, in a sighing
+sort of voice, when the girl had finished her recital.
+
+'Are you sorry, mother? Why do you speak in that tone? You know you have
+always liked Cyril.'
+
+'Yes, my dear,' but here Mrs. Ross sighed again; 'how can one help
+liking him, when he is so lovable? But, Audrey, what will your sister
+say--and Percival?'
+
+'Poor dear mother! So that was the reason of that dolorous voice? Well,
+do you know,' with an engaging air of frankness, 'I am afraid we shall
+have a bad time with Gage; she will want me put in a strait-waistcoat
+and fed on a cooling diet of bread and water. Father will have to assure
+her that there is no insanity in the family; and as to Percival--oh,
+Percival's face, when he hears the news, will be a joke!'
+
+'I must say I don't see the joke, Audrey. I am really afraid they will
+both be dreadfully shocked. You must tell them yourself. I would not
+take the news to Hillside for the world--and just now, too, when dear
+Geraldine ought to be spared all agitation.'
+
+Audrey did not dare laugh; her mother was far too much in earnest.
+
+'You must go yourself, Audrey,' she repeated; 'and I hope you will be
+very, very careful.'
+
+'Don't you think it would be better to write, mother? I am so sure that
+Gage will disapprove and say cutting things--and of course it will not
+be pleasant. If I were to write her a sisterly little note, just telling
+her the news, and saying I would go to her to-morrow?'
+
+And, after a good deal of consideration, Mrs. Ross was brought to own
+that this plan would be the best.
+
+Mrs. Ross was so oppressed by the fear of Geraldine's disapproval that
+she could hardly give her attention to Audrey; and yet her motherly
+heart was stirred to its foundations. Audrey pretended to be hurt at
+last.
+
+'Oh, do not let us talk any more about Gage!' she said impatiently; 'we
+must give her time to come round. I want you to think about me and
+Cyril. "Cyril"--is it not a nice name? And you must be very fond of him,
+and treat him like your own son. He is to be a second Michael.'
+
+'Dear me, Audrey! I wonder what Michael will say; he can never have
+guessed anything before he went away.'
+
+'I don't know, mother. Michael is very sharp, you know. It struck me
+once or twice that he was watching Cyril; but he liked him--he always
+liked him;' and here Audrey's voice was full of gladness. Michael's
+approval was necessary to her happiness: whoever else might choose to
+cavil at her choice, it must not be Michael--dear old Michael!
+
+'I wish he would come back,' she said softly; for she felt a strange
+sort of longing to see his kind face again. She must write to him; she
+must tell him everything, just as though he were her brother. 'Mother,'
+interrupting herself, 'I want to tell you something very pretty that
+Cyril said yesterday. I was talking of you and father, and he said I
+must not be hurt, but he had fallen in love with you first. He thinks
+you the sweetest woman he has ever seen.'
+
+'Dear fellow!' murmured Mrs. Ross; for the little compliment pleased
+her.
+
+With all her loyalty to Geraldine's husband, there were times when he
+was a little formidable to her. Perhaps, in her secret heart, she felt
+herself too young to be the mother-in-law of a man of forty; and, in
+spite of Mr. Harcourt's real liking and respect for his wife's mother,
+he had never been guided by her. It had not been with him, as with
+younger men, to say, 'Your mother thinks so-and-so should be done.'
+Indeed, if the truth be told, Geraldine very rarely quoted her mother's
+opinions--she was so certain that Percival would contradict them.
+
+'We are surely able to make up our own minds without consulting your
+parents, my dear,' he would say, in rather a crushing tone; for
+prosperity had fed his self-confidence, and it needed the discipline of
+trouble to teach him humility.
+
+At that moment Dr. Ross entered the room, and at the first sight of his
+face Audrey sprang up, and he opened his arms to receive her.
+
+'Oh, daddy, is it all right?'
+
+'Well, it is as far right as it can be,' he replied, in rather an
+inexplicable voice. 'Emmie, my dear, this girl of ours has taken the bit
+between her teeth. Geraldine never gave us this trouble. She fell in
+love with the right man at the right time, and everything was arranged
+properly.'
+
+'And now the right man has fallen in love with me,' whispered Audrey in
+her father's ear.
+
+'But you have given your consent, John?' returned his wife, in a
+pleading tone. In spite of her fears about Geraldine, her sympathies
+were by this time enlisted on the side of the lovers. 'Of course, Mr.
+Blake is a poor man; but I daresay Dr. Charrington will push him when he
+knows how things are; and he is so nice and pleasant and clever, and
+dear Audrey really loves him.'
+
+'Are you sure of that?' trying to catch a glimpse of his daughter's
+face. 'Girls make mistakes sometimes.' And then, as a faint protest
+reached him: 'Well, you will find the fellow in my study, if you want to
+talk to him. Perhaps you had better bring him in to see your mother.'
+
+And Audrey withdrew, blushing like a rose.
+
+'She is very fond of him, John,' observed Mrs. Ross, with a trace of
+anxiety in her tone, as though her husband's manner did not quite
+satisfy her. 'She has been talking to me for the last hour. Audrey never
+cared for anyone before. You remember young Silverdale and Fred
+Langton--they were both in love with her, and would have spoken if she
+had given them the chance; but she was as distant as possible.'
+
+'Yes; and Fred Langton has fifteen hundred a year, and his father is a
+Member of Parliament. He is a nice fellow, too--only a little too stout
+for so young a man; but he is not the sort Audrey would fancy. Blake is
+a good fellow, and I liked him from the first,' continued the Doctor, in
+a musing tone; 'but I never should have picked him out for Audrey.'
+
+'Perhaps you think him too young?' hazarded his wife.
+
+'Yes; I should have liked her to have married an older man. They are too
+much of an age, and Audrey, with all her good-nature, has a will of her
+own. Blake is by no means a weak man; on the contrary, I should say he
+is strong; but he will have to give in to her.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not!' for Mrs. Ross held the old-fashioned doctrines of
+wifely submission and obedience.
+
+'They will not find it out for a little; but, if I am not mistaken,
+Blake will discover in time that he is somewhat handicapped. The girl
+has too much on her side: there is her position, her little bit of
+money, and her equality as regards age. Blake will have to steer his way
+prudently, or he will find himself among shoals.'
+
+Mrs. Ross looked distressed; her husband's opinion was infallible to
+her. It never occurred to her that he might be occasionally wrong in his
+premises.
+
+'Percival and Geraldine will be dreadfully shocked,' she replied. 'I
+quite dread the effect on Geraldine.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross's mood changed.
+
+'It is no business of hers, or of Harcourt's either,' he said, rather
+sharply. 'If Audrey has her parents' consent, she need not trouble
+herself about other people's opinions.'
+
+Then Mrs. Ross knew that, whatever stormy discussion might be in store
+for her, she must not expect her husband to come to her assistance. He
+had more than once hinted that his son-in-law took rather too much upon
+himself, and on one occasion he had gone so far as to say that it was a
+pity Geraldine had married a man so much older than herself.
+
+'Harcourt is a clever fellow, but he plays the autocrat rather too much.
+A man has a right to be master in his own house, but Woodcote is not
+Hillside.' And this speech had alarmed Mrs. Ross dreadfully.
+
+'I wish your father cared for Percival as much as he does for Michael,'
+she said once a little plaintively to Audrey. 'Nothing Michael says or
+does is ever wrong in his eyes.'
+
+'But there could not be two Michaels, mother,' returned Audrey; 'and
+really, Percival does lay down the law far too much. I don't wonder
+father was a little put out, for of course he is the older man.'
+
+Meanwhile, the lovers were enjoying themselves after their own fashion.
+When Audrey entered the study, Cyril was standing in the bay-window with
+his back towards the door; but at the sound of her footstep he turned
+round quickly and crossed the room. As he took her hands he looked at
+her for a moment without speaking, and she saw at once that he was
+deeply moved. Then he put his arm round her very gently and kissed her.
+Somehow that silent caress touched Audrey, it was so much more eloquent
+than words; and when he did speak, his speech was very grateful to her
+ears.
+
+'Your father has been so good to me.'
+
+'Yes, I know. I told you yesterday how good he would be.'
+
+'Ah, but I had a rather bad time of it at first,' he replied, shaking
+his head. 'Do you see that chair?' pointing to the high-backed oaken
+chair that always occupied the corner by the writing-table. 'Dr. Ross
+sat there, and I stood leaning against the mantelpiece, just opposite to
+him.'
+
+'Do you mean that father did not ask you to sit down?'
+
+'Oh no; he more than once pressed me to take a seat; but I felt it would
+be unbecoming for a culprit not to stand before his judge. I felt such a
+culprit, you see. When a man steals another man's dearest possession
+without asking his leave, he must regard himself as a sort of traitor.'
+
+Audrey smiled; but as Cyril drew her gently down beside him on the wide
+cushioned window-seat, she made a faint protest.
+
+'I think mother will be looking for us,' she said a little shyly.
+
+'But not just now,' he pleaded. 'You will stay with me for a few
+minutes, will you not, darling? I could not talk to you before your
+mother, and I want to tell you what Dr. Ross said. In spite of my
+presumption, he has treated me most generously; but, Audrey,' half
+whispering her name, as though it thrilled him to say it, 'he says that
+he will not spare you to me for at least two years.'
+
+'Oh no, of course not; I could not leave father and mother for a long,
+long time,' returned Audrey, somewhat troubled by this allusion to her
+marriage. It was one thing to be engaged and to make Cyril happy, but to
+be married was a far more serious consideration. 'If I had been asked, I
+should have said at least three years,' she added quickly.
+
+For one instant the young lover felt himself wounded, but his good sense
+enabled him to hide this from her.
+
+'You are right, dearest,' he said quietly. 'It would be mere selfishness
+for me to wish to take you away from this beautiful home until I have
+made one that shall in some degree be fitting for you. You will not
+expect a grand one; you know you have linked your lot to a poor man.'
+
+'Of course I know it,' she replied calmly; 'you need not trouble about
+that, Cyril. I think I am different from other girls: I have never cared
+for wealth or luxury in the least. Woodcote is my home, and I love every
+stone of it; but I could be just as happy in a cottage.'
+
+'If it were like the Gray Cottage, for example?'
+
+'Oh, I have always been fond of the Gray Cottage!' she returned, smiling
+at him; and the look of those sweet gray eyes made the young man's
+pulses beat faster. 'I should be perfectly satisfied with a home like
+that. Why,' as he interrupted her with a rapturous expression of
+gratitude, 'did you think I should be hard to please? I am not a fine
+lady, like Geraldine!'
+
+'You are the finest lady in the world to me!' was Cyril's answer. It
+took all his self-control to sit there, just holding her hand and
+listening to her. He felt as though in his joy he could have been guilty
+of any extravagance--as though he ought to be kneeling before her, his
+lady of delight, pouring out his very soul in a tumultuous, incoherent
+stream of words. But it spoke well for his knowledge of Audrey's
+character that he restrained himself so utterly: any such passionate
+love-making would have disturbed her serenity and destroyed her ease in
+his society; her inborn love of freedom, and a certain coyness that was
+natural to her, would have revolted against such wooing. Cyril had his
+reward for his unselfish forbearance when he saw how quietly she rested
+against his arm, how willingly she left her hand in his, as she talked
+to him in her frank, guileless way.
+
+'I suppose your mother is pleased about this?' she said presently.
+
+'You would have said so if you had heard us talking last night, until
+one o'clock in the morning! You have made more than one person happy,
+dear; my mother will be your debtor for life.'
+
+'I wonder she is not a little jealous of me,' returned Audrey. 'She has
+had you so long to herself, I should think she would find me a little in
+her way.'
+
+'Oh no! she is too grateful to you for making me happy. My darling, it
+would cause me utter misery if you and my mother did not get on. I have
+been her one thought all these years; it is not right, of course,' as
+Audrey's eyes expressed disapproval at this. 'I have had more than my
+fair share; but I am only stating facts from her point of view. If you
+had refused me--if we had gone away--she would have broken her heart; as
+it is, she is ready to worship you for your goodness to me.'
+
+'You must take me to her by and by,' returned Audrey gently; 'but now,
+Cyril, indeed we must go to my mother;' and this time he made no
+objection.
+
+Mrs. Ross welcomed him very nicely.
+
+'Audrey tells me that I am to have another son,' she said softly, as she
+held out her hand to him.
+
+'If you will only let me be one,' he returned gratefully, as he carried
+the soft motherly hand to his lips.
+
+Audrey might be forgiven if she regarded Cyril's behaviour as perfect.
+As for Mrs. Ross, the tears started to her eyes at that act of
+reverential homage. She told Audrey afterwards that she felt as though
+she could have kissed him.
+
+'What a pity you did not! I think Cyril would have liked it,' was
+Audrey's quiet answer.
+
+She heard her mother inviting him to dinner as she turned to the
+tea-table, for the afternoon was nearly over. 'We shall be just by
+ourselves, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Will you call me Cyril now?' he asked in almost a whisper, and a blush
+came to Mrs. Ross's comely face.
+
+'I will try and remember,' she said, in the kindest possible voice; and
+then he joined Audrey at the tea-table, and made himself very busy in
+waiting on them both, and they were soon as easy and comfortable as
+possible.
+
+'Would you like my mother to come and see you to-morrow?' he asked
+presently, when lamps had been brought in and the October twilight had
+been excluded; 'that will be the correct thing, will it not, Mrs. Ross?'
+
+'I suppose so,' she assented; but Audrey, with her usual impulsiveness,
+interrupted her:
+
+'Why should you not take me across now?' she said; 'I think it is so
+stupid thinking about etiquette. Your mother is older than I, and it is
+for me to go to her.' Audrey spoke with decision, and Cyril looked
+enchanted.
+
+'I did not like to propose it,' he said delightedly; 'will you really
+come? May I take her, Mrs. Ross?'
+
+But Audrey did not wait for her mother's permission. She left the room,
+and returned presently in her hat and jacket.
+
+'I am quite ready,' she said, speaking from the threshold; but she
+smiled as she said the words. Was she interrupting an interesting
+conversation? Cyril was on the couch beside her mother, and he was
+talking eagerly. Perhaps, though Audrey did not know it, he was making
+up for his previous self-restraint by pouring out some of his pent-up
+feelings.
+
+'You understand?' he said as he stood up, and Mrs. Ross beamed at him in
+answer.
+
+'Are you two having confidences already?' observed Audrey happily, as
+she looked on at this little scene; and Cyril laughed as he followed her
+into the hall.
+
+'She is the sweetest woman in the world but one,' he said, as they went
+out together into the soft damp air; and Audrey, perhaps in gratitude
+for these words, took his arm unasked as she walked with him through the
+dark village street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+MR. HARCOURT SPEAKS HIS MIND
+
+     'It is idle to _talk_ a young woman in love out of her passion.
+     Love does not lie in the ear.'--HORACE WALPOLE.
+
+
+Mrs. Blake was expecting them--had been expecting them for hours; Audrey
+could see that in a moment. The October evenings were chilly, and most
+people in Rutherford lighted a fire at sundown; so a clear little fire
+burnt in the drawing-room grate, and Mrs. Blake's favourite lamp with
+the pink shade cast a rosy glow over the little tea-table. The cups were
+ranged in due order, and some hot cakes were on the brass trivet, but
+the little tea-maker was not at her usual post. Only Mrs. Blake was
+standing alone in the middle of the room, and as Cyril led Audrey to her
+she threw her arms round the girl with almost hysterical violence. 'Oh,
+my dear, dear, dearest girl!' she exclaimed, pressing her with
+convulsive force; and Audrey felt a little embarrassed.
+
+'I thought you would be looking for us,' she said, releasing herself
+gently; 'I asked Cyril to bring me--it seemed the right thing.'
+
+'No, dear, it was not the right thing,' returned Mrs. Blake, almost
+solemnly; 'it was for me to come to you. But all the same, I knew Cyril
+would bring you; my boy would remember his mother even in his
+happiness.'
+
+'It was not my thought,' began Cyril; but a very sweet look from Audrey
+checked him.
+
+'What does it matter whose thought it was?' she said, in her direct way;
+'if I asked him to bring me, it was because I knew it was what he
+wished, though he did not like to ask me. Dear Mrs. Blake, was it likely
+that I should stay away when we have always been such friends?'
+
+For a moment Mrs. Blake seemed unable to answer. Some curious emotion
+impeded her utterance. She turned very pale and trembled visibly.
+
+'And we shall be better friends than ever now,' continued Audrey, taking
+her hand, for she felt very tender towards the beautiful woman who was
+Cyril's mother.
+
+'I trust so,' returned Mrs. Blake in a low voice; but there was a
+melancholy gleam in her large dark eyes. Then, with an effort to recover
+her usual manner: 'Audrey, I hope you have forgiven me for troubling you
+so yesterday. You must not expect me to say I am sorry, or that I repent
+a word that I said then; but all the same, I was rather hard on you.'
+
+'You certainly made me very wretched.'
+
+'Yes, I felt I was very cruel; but one cannot measure one's words at
+such a moment. I felt as though my children and I were being driven out
+of our paradise.'
+
+'And you thought it was my fault?' but Audrey blushed a little as she
+asked the question.
+
+'Oh, hush!' and Mrs. Blake glanced at her son with pretended alarm; 'do
+you know that in spite of all I had done for him, that ungrateful boy
+actually presumed to lecture me. He would have it that I had been cruel
+to you, and that no one but a woman would have taken such a mean
+advantage; but all the time he looked so happy that I forgave him.
+"All's well that ends well." That is what I told him.'
+
+Cyril shook his head. Even in his happiness he had been unable to
+refrain from uttering his disapproval of his mother's tactics. His
+nature was almost as simple and transparent as Audrey's. It hurt him to
+remember how his mother had appealed to this girl's sense of compassion.
+
+'Do not let us talk any more of it,' he said quickly. 'I think Audrey
+has a great deal to forgive; but you and I, mother, know her
+generosity.'
+
+And the look that accompanied these words left Audrey silent for a
+moment.
+
+'Where is Mollie?' she exclaimed presently, when, after a little more
+conversation, Mrs. Blake insisted that she must have just one cup of
+tea. In vain Audrey protested that they had had tea already at Woodcote,
+that in another hour or so they would have to dine. Mrs. Blake could not
+be induced to let them off.
+
+'Where is Mollie?' she continued; 'may I go and look for her, Mrs.
+Blake?'
+
+But before Mrs. Blake could answer, Audrey had exchanged a glance with
+Cyril and disappeared.
+
+She found Mollie in the dining-room; she was pacing up and down the room
+with a small black kitten in her arms, but the moment Audrey appeared
+the kitten was discarded, and flung upon four trembling, sprawling legs,
+and Mollie sprang towards her, almost overwhelming her with her girlish
+vehemence.
+
+'Oh, Miss Ross, my dear Miss Ross! is it really true? Cyril said so this
+morning, but I could not believe him; I must hear it from your own
+lips.'
+
+'Do you mean, is it true that I hope one day to become your sister? Of
+course it is true, dear Mollie.'
+
+'Oh, I am so glad! I am more than glad; I have been crying with joy half
+the day. But is he good enough for you, Miss Ross?' gazing at her idol
+with intense anxiety. 'I am very fond of Cyril--Kester and I think there
+is no one like him--but it does not seem as though anyone were quite
+good enough for you.'
+
+'Oh, Mollie, what nonsense! but I am not going to believe you; and what
+do you mean by calling me Miss Ross, you silly child? Don't I tell you
+we are going to be sisters?'
+
+Mollie, who had been rubbing her cheeks against her friend in a
+fondling, kittenish sort of way, started back in a moment.
+
+'But I could not call you anything else,' she returned, becoming crimson
+with shyness. 'You will always be Miss Ross to me--my Miss Ross, you
+know; I could not think of you as anyone else. It would be such a
+liberty to call you by your Christian name.'
+
+'Well, never mind; it will come naturally by and by,' returned Audrey
+tranquilly. 'I shall know you are fond of me, whatever you choose to
+call me; so you and Kester can do as you like.'
+
+'May I write and tell him?' pleaded Mollie. 'Oh, dear Miss Ross, do let
+me!'
+
+But Audrey was not inclined to give permission; she explained to Mollie
+that she meant to write herself to Captain Burnett, and that she thought
+Cyril would send Kester a note.
+
+'Better leave it to him,' she suggested; 'you can write to him
+afterwards;' and as usual Mollie was docile.
+
+They went upstairs after this, Mollie picking up the kitten on the way.
+Cyril sprang to the door as he heard their footsteps.
+
+'Have we been long?' Audrey asked, turning to him with a smile.
+
+Cyril hardly knew what he answered. For a moment a sense of giddiness
+came over him, as though he were suddenly dazzled. 'Could it be really
+true?' he asked himself more than once. Audrey did not seem to guess his
+feelings: she was perfectly tranquil and at her ease; she had laid aside
+her hat and jacket to please Mrs. Blake, and as she sat there sipping
+her tea and talking softly to them all, she looked so fair and girlish
+in her lover's sight, that the infatuated young man could not remove his
+eyes from her.
+
+And yet Audrey was only in the old dark-red cashmere that was
+Geraldine's pet aversion; but her brown hair had golden gleams in it,
+and the gray eyes were very bright and soft, and perhaps with that
+changing colour Audrey did look pretty; for youth and love are great
+beautifiers even of homely features. Audrey was sorry when Cyril
+reminded her that it was time to go. She was loath to leave that little
+drawing-room, so bright with lamplight and firelight. She went home and
+dressed for dinner in her white gown, feeling as though she were in some
+placid dream.
+
+The rest of the evening passed very tranquilly. Dr. Ross asked for some
+music; he was not in the mood for conversation, so Audrey sang to them
+all her favourite songs, while Cyril stood beside her and turned over
+the leaves. Now and then they could exchange a word or two.
+
+And just at the last she must needs sing 'Widow Miller,' and as usual
+Dr. Ross softly beat time and crooned an accompaniment:
+
+     'The sang o' the lark finds the widow asteer,
+     The birr o' her wheel starts the night's dreamy ear,
+     The tears o'er the tow-tap will whiles fa' like rain,
+     Yet there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain.'
+
+'What a sad song, my darling! I should like to hear something more
+cheerful,' whispered Cyril, as she finished.
+
+But she did not seem to hear him; she rose from her seat and crossed the
+room to the corner where Dr. Ross was sitting.
+
+'That is your favourite song, daddy,' she said, leaning over him.
+
+And as he smiled and nodded, she sat down on the low chair beside him
+and looked thoughtfully into the fire.
+
+She roused herself presently to bid Cyril good-bye, and to linger a
+moment with him at the door in the starlight.
+
+'I shall not see you until luncheon to-morrow, unless you pass the
+window,' he said, with the egotism common to lovers. 'You will think of
+me until then, will you not, dear?'
+
+'Of course I shall think of you,' returned Audrey, with her usual
+gentleness.
+
+But she seemed to wonder a little at the sudden passion with which Cyril
+clasped her to him.
+
+'Good-night, Cyril dear. I shall be very busy all the morning writing
+letters; but we can have the walk you propose after four.'
+
+And then she went back to her seat and leant her cheek against her
+father's arm, as she looked into the fire again.
+
+'A penny for your thoughts, my child,' observed Dr. Ross, when they had
+both been silent for a long time; 'though I suppose I need not ask.'
+
+'I was thinking of Michael,' she returned guiltily. 'Dear old Michael!
+how I wish he could be happy, too!' And then she bade them both
+good-night and went up to her room, and, strange to say, her last
+thought before she fell asleep was to wonder what Michael would say.
+
+The boys marvelled more than once the following morning at their
+master's evident abstraction. In spite of his efforts to fix his
+attention on Greek verbs and exercises, Cyril's eyes would turn
+perpetually to the window; but no slight girlish figure in dark-red
+cashmere appeared on the terrace to gather the yellow and white and
+violet chrysanthemums that bloomed in the borders.
+
+Audrey was in her own private sanctum, and had given orders that no one
+should disturb her. Even Mollie was to be sent away. She had very
+important business on her hands. There was her letter to Geraldine, and
+a very difficult one it was to write--so difficult, that more than once
+Audrey thought that she would put on her hat and go up to Hillside
+instead; but she remembered that Gage was expecting visitors to
+luncheon. They would probably come early, and drive away before dusk;
+her letter must not be delivered before then. So she addressed herself
+again to her task.
+
+After all, it was a very sweet, womanly letter, and might have touched
+any sister's heart.
+
+'If you cannot conscientiously approve, you can at least wish me joy in
+the life I have chosen for myself,' she wrote. 'I have accepted Mr.
+Blake of my own free will, because I think he is worthy of my affection.
+You do not know him yet; but he is so good--so good: sometimes I think
+even Michael is not more to be trusted.' And so on.
+
+But, after all, it was far easier to write to Michael. Audrey had no
+need to pick her words or arrange her ideas with him. She could tell him
+everything as frankly as though he were her brother. There need be no
+limit to her confidence; Michael would never misunderstand her.
+
+'The one drawback is that you are still away,' she finished
+affectionately. 'I shall not feel things are perfect until we have had
+one of our long talks on "Michael's bench." When are you coming home? It
+will soon be November, and the trees will be stripped of their leaves.
+Why do you trouble yourself about another man's business? No one wants
+you more than your devoted cousin and friend--AUDREY ROSS.'
+
+And when this letter was in the post, and the note for Geraldine lying
+on the marble slab in the hall, she felt a sense of relief, and had
+leisure to think of Cyril.
+
+They had their walk together after afternoon school, but it soon grew
+dusk, and Audrey suggested that, as her mother was alone, they should go
+back to Woodcote to tea. There was no invitation to dinner that night,
+but Cyril did not expect it--he had his dormitory work; and as Audrey
+promised to see him before he went away for the night, he was quite
+content.
+
+'You must not think that I mean to bore Mrs. Ross with intruding myself
+on all occasions,' he said. 'I know you will tell me when I may come. I
+mean to be guided entirely by you. Under these circumstances a man is
+tempted to be selfish.'
+
+'You will never be selfish,' she said, with one of her charming smiles.
+'I could never have promised to marry a selfish man. But, Cyril, you
+will be guided by me in that other thing?' changing her tone, and
+looking at him very seriously; for they had had rather a hot argument.
+
+Cyril was going to Peterborough the next day to buy the betrothal ring,
+and Audrey had petitioned for a gold one.
+
+'But it will only look like a wedding-guard,' he had remonstrated; for
+he would rather have denied himself everything for six months, if only
+he could buy something fit for her acceptance--a pearl or sapphire ring,
+for example. Diamonds were beyond his means.
+
+But Audrey could not be induced to say that she liked pearls; on the
+contrary, she manifested an extraordinary preference for the idea of a
+broad chased gold band, with her own and Cyril's initials inside.
+
+'I am going to marry a poor man,' she said decidedly, 'and he must not
+waste his money on me. What does it matter if it look like a guard? It
+can serve that purpose afterwards. Please do not look so disappointed,
+Cyril. When you can afford it, you shall give me any ring you
+like--pearl or diamond; but I like diamonds best.' And she was so
+evidently in earnest that he had to yield to her; and Audrey wore her
+gold ring with immense satisfaction.
+
+Audrey spent her evening quietly with her parents. She and Dr. Ross
+played chess together, and when he went off to his study she stayed and
+talked to her mother.
+
+Mrs. Ross was not a lively companion that evening. The fear of
+Geraldine's disapproval was quickening her latent feelings of uneasiness
+into activity, and she could not keep these feelings to herself.
+
+'I wonder if Geraldine will answer your letter this evening, Audrey?'
+
+'I don't think so, mother dear. I am to go there to-morrow, you see, so
+there will be no need for her to write.'
+
+'I am afraid that she will be hurt because you have not gone to her
+to-day; she will think it rather odd for you to write.'
+
+'Why, mother,' opening her eyes rather widely at this, 'don't you
+remember Mr. and Mrs. Bland were to lunch there? How could Gage have
+given me her attention? And then, with guests to entertain, it would
+never have done to run the risk of upsetting her. Percival would have
+glared at us all through luncheon if he had noticed her eyes were red.
+You know how easily Gage cries.'
+
+'Did you tell her this in your letter?'
+
+'I think I implied it, but I am not sure.'
+
+'Ah, well, we must wait until to-morrow,' with a sigh; 'but I cannot
+deny I am very anxious. You will go up to Hillside directly after
+breakfast, will you not, my dear? And do beg Geraldine to come back with
+you. I feel I shall not have a moment's peace until I have seen her.'
+
+'Poor dear mother!' observed Audrey caressingly; for there was a look of
+care on Mrs. Ross's brow.
+
+But though Audrey cheered up her mother, and made her little jokes, she
+was quite aware of the ordeal that was before her, and it was with some
+undefined idea of propitiating her sister that she laid aside the red
+cashmere the next morning and put on a certain gray gown which Gage
+especially admired. It had a hat to match, with a gray wing, and
+Geraldine always looked at her approvingly when she came to Hillside in
+the gray gown. She was on the terrace, picking two or three yellow
+chrysanthemums, when she saw her brother-in-law coming towards her. A
+visit from him at this hour was a most unusual proceeding, and Audrey at
+once guessed that his business was with her. The idea of any
+interference from her brother-in-law was decidedly unpalatable;
+nevertheless, she awaited him smilingly. Mr. Harcourt was a man who
+walked well. He had a fine carriage of the head, though some people said
+he held himself a little too erect, and too much with the air of a man
+who recognises his own superiority; but, as Audrey watched him as he
+walked up the terrace, she thought he had never held his head so proudly
+before.
+
+'You are a very early visitor this morning, Percival,' she observed, as
+she arranged the chrysanthemums in her gray dress; and she looked up at
+him pleasantly as she shook hands with him.
+
+But there was no answering smile on Mr. Harcourt's face.
+
+'It is a very unusual business that brings me,' he replied rather
+solemnly. 'Is there anyone in the drawing-room, Audrey? I should like to
+speak to you quietly.'
+
+'Susan is in there, dusting the ornaments, but I can easily send her
+away,' rejoined Audrey cheerfully. 'Mother is in the study.' And then
+she led the way to the drawing-room, and gave Susan a hint to withdraw.
+
+Mr. Harcourt waited until the door was shut, then he put down his hat
+and faced round on his sister-in-law.
+
+'This is a very sad business,' he said, still with the same portentous
+air of solemnity. 'I am sorry to say your sister is dreadfully upset.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not,' returned Audrey quickly.
+
+'I have never seen her more upset about anything. She hardly slept at
+all last night, and I was half afraid I should have to send for Dr.
+Musgrave this morning: she was not quite strong enough to bear such a
+shock.'
+
+'Gage is so sensitive, you see.'
+
+'She is not more sensitive than other people,' feeling himself bound to
+defend his wife's nerves. 'I am not in the least surprised to find how
+much she has taken it to heart. I think she feels very properly about
+it. We are both as disappointed as possible--we hoped better things of
+you, Audrey.'
+
+'Is not that a little severe?'
+
+'I think not. I am bound to tell you the truth plainly, that Geraldine
+and I strongly disapprove of this engagement.'
+
+'I am so sorry,' returned Audrey, with provoking good-humour; 'but you
+see, Percival, one must be guided by one's own feelings in such a
+personal matter; and I hope when you and Gage know Mr. Blake a little
+better that you will alter your opinion.'
+
+'I am afraid I must differ from you there, even at the risk of
+displeasing you. I must say that I think Mr. Blake is the last man to
+make you happy.'
+
+'Now, what reason can you have for making such a sweeping assertion?'
+asked Audrey, waxing a little warm at this. Percival had no right to
+stand there lecturing her after this fashion; it was not in a
+brother-in-law's province to interfere with her choice of a lover. If
+her parents had given their sanction to her engagement, and allowed her
+to throw herself away on a poor man, it was surely no one else's
+business to say a dissenting word. Percival might go home and lecture
+his own wife if he liked. 'It is a pity you and Gage are so worldly,'
+she said, in what was meant to be a withering tone. Audrey had never
+been so near quarrelling with her brother-in-law.
+
+'Worldly?' he repeated, in rather a perplexed tone. 'My dear girl, I
+confess I do not understand you.'
+
+'It is very easy to understand,' she returned coldly. 'You and Gage
+object to Mr. Blake because he is poor and has not made his position;
+you think I am throwing myself away, because I have engaged myself to a
+junior classical master who has to work his way up.'
+
+'Just so,' observed Mr. Harcourt; 'that is exactly what we do think.'
+
+'And yet you are surprised because I call you worldly. If you only knew
+how differently father and I think! Perhaps he is disappointed
+too--indeed, I know that he is; he wanted me to marry an older man--but,
+all the same, he agrees with me, that a man so honourable and clever,
+one who has borne so high a character, who is so good a son and brother,
+would be likely to make a woman happy.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt shrugged his shoulders. They were arguing from different
+points. Audrey was not likely to convince him: he had started with a
+preconceived dislike to the whole business. He now proceeded to pull
+Audrey's impulsive speech to pieces.
+
+'I do not deny that Blake is a good fellow, and he is clever, too; but
+in marrying him you will be descending in the social scale. Who are the
+Blakes? No one knows anything about them--Edith always declared the
+father was a City man--but we do know that his mother is distinctly
+objectionable!'
+
+'Excuse me, Percival, but you are speaking of a close friend. Even if
+she were not Cyril's mother, my friendship for her should prevent you
+from speaking against her in my presence.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt groaned as he heard the word 'Cyril,' but he felt at the
+same time that he had gone too far: his quick temper had carried him
+away. He hastened to apologise.
+
+'You must forgive me, Audrey, if I speak a little too plainly. But this
+is such a bitter disappointment to me, my very affection for you makes
+me object all the more strongly to this engagement. As Geraldine said to
+me last night, she has only one sister--and this makes it all the harder
+for her.'
+
+'Yes, I understand; and I am very sorry to disappoint you both. But,
+Percival, the thing is done now, and I want you and Gage to make the
+best of it.'
+
+'Will you not reconsider your decision?' he asked, and there was
+softness and real affection in his look. 'Perhaps, after all, you may
+have mistaken your feelings; a girl is sometimes talked into a thing.'
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+'I have not mistaken them,' she said quietly. 'Don't say any more,
+Percival; I have no wish to quarrel; and, of course, I am a little sore
+about this.'
+
+Then Mr. Harcourt felt that his mission had been unsuccessful; the girl
+was contumacious, and would listen to no one.
+
+'It's all Dr. Ross's fault,' he said to himself, as he took up his hat
+and prepared to walk with her to Hillside. 'If he had refused his
+consent she would have given the thing up; but in worldly matters my
+respected father-in-law is a mere child.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+HOW GERALDINE TOOK IT TO HEART
+
+     'This world is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who
+     feel.'--HORACE WALPOLE.
+
+
+It may be doubted if either Audrey or her brother-in-law enjoyed their
+walk to Hillside. Mr. Harcourt felt that he had failed signally in his
+brotherly mission, and any sort of failure was intolerable to him. To do
+him justice, he was thinking only of Audrey's future welfare. As he took
+up the wide clerical-looking hat that he affected, and walked with her
+down the terrace, he told himself sorrowfully that he might as well have
+held his tongue; but, all the same, he could not refrain from speaking
+another word or two.
+
+'I do so wish I could make you see this thing as your friends will see
+it!' he said, no longer laying down the law, but speaking in a tone of
+mild insistence, as became a man who knew himself to be right. 'They may
+not be so closely interested in the matter, but perhaps their view may
+be less prejudiced. Think, my dear girl, what a serious, what a terrible
+thing it would be if you were to discover too late that you had made a
+mistake!'
+
+'I should never own it to be one,' she said, trying to smile; but it
+could not be denied that she found her brother-in-law a little
+depressing; 'and you may be quite sure that I should abide by it. There
+is a fund of obstinacy in my nature that no one seems to have discovered
+but myself.'
+
+Then Mr. Harcourt gave vent to an impatient sigh. He must leave her to
+Geraldine, he thought; but even then he could not forbear from one
+Parthian thrust.
+
+'You will live to repent it,' he said very seriously, 'and then you will
+remember my warning. You must not look to me to help you out of your
+difficulties then, Audrey; I would have done anything for you now.'
+
+'I will promise you that I will not ask for your help,' she returned, so
+promptly that he looked quite hurt. And she hastened to soften her
+words. 'If one makes a mistake of that kind, one must only look to one's
+self.'
+
+'I have always regarded your interests as identical with Edith's,' he
+returned a little stiffly. 'I mean, I have always treated you as though
+you were my own sister; but, of course, if you cannot rely on me as your
+brother----'
+
+But Audrey would not let him finish his sentence.
+
+'Why, Percival,' she said gently, 'I do believe you are quarrelling with
+me, just because I am taking you at your word. Are you not just a little
+illogical for once? In one breath you tell me not to look to you for
+help, and then you reproach me with unsisterly feelings. How are we to
+understand each other at this rate?'
+
+Then a faint smile played round Mr. Harcourt's mouth. It was true that,
+in the heat of argument, he did not always measure his words; even
+Geraldine had ventured to tell him so once.
+
+'Well, well, we will say no more about it,' he returned somewhat
+magnanimously; and though he could not pluck up spirit to turn the
+conversation into another channel, he refrained from any more depressing
+remarks. He gave her a friendly nod and smile as they parted in the
+hall.
+
+'You will find Geraldine in the morning-room,' he said; and Audrey was
+much relieved that he did not offer to accompany her.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt evidently regarded herself as an invalid that morning. She
+was sitting in the corner of the big couch, in her pale-pink tea-gown.
+She rose at her sister's entrance, however, and crossed the room with
+languid steps.
+
+'Did Percival bring you?' she asked, as she kissed her.
+
+Audrey felt as though she were to blame when she saw Geraldine's heavy
+eyes.
+
+'I am afraid you are far from well, Gage,' she said a little anxiously,
+for, after all, Geraldine was her only sister, and if things should go
+wrong with her----. She felt a momentary compunction--one of those keen,
+pin-like pricks of conscience--as she remembered how often she had been
+vexed with her little ways.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt looked at her mournfully.
+
+'How can I be well?' she said, with reproachful sweetness in her voice.
+'I do not think I had three hours' sleep last night. Percival got quite
+concerned about me at last. Oh, Audrey, you have made me so very
+unhappy!' and her eyes filled with tears.
+
+'My dear Gage, I would not willingly make you unhappy for worlds!'
+
+'But, all the same, it has been such a shock--such a cruel
+disappointment to us both! Percival was nearly as upset about it as I
+was. If you could have seen him walking up and down the room last night!
+"She must be mad to throw herself away in this fashion!"--he would say
+nothing else for a long time.'
+
+'I am quite aware of Percival's sentiments,' returned Audrey coldly.
+
+Her manner alarmed Geraldine. 'But you have not quarrelled with him for
+telling you the truth?' she asked with unmistakable anxiety. 'Oh,
+Audrey, you do not know how fond Percival is of you! He is as proud of
+you as though you were his own sister. He has always looked forward to
+your marriage. He used to say none of the men he knew were half good
+enough for you; that you ought to have someone who would be in every way
+your superior, and to whom you could look up.'
+
+'Yes, and it is such a blessing that I can look up to Cyril.'
+
+'But he is so young; and though he is nice--yes, of course, he is very
+nice and good-looking and clever--still one wants more in a husband.
+Somehow I never realised these things until I was actually standing at
+the altar with Percival and said those solemn words for myself: "For
+better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health,
+until death us do part." I felt then that if I had not been so sure of
+Percival I would rather have died than have said those words.'
+
+A faint shiver passed over Audrey as Geraldine spoke. She had never
+heard her talk in this way before. 'Dear, dear Audrey,' she continued,
+taking her sister's hand; 'can you wonder that I am anxious that you
+should be as happy as I am, that it nearly breaks my heart to know that
+you are taking this false step?'
+
+A painful flush crossed Audrey's face. This was a worse ordeal than she
+had expected. She had been prepared for reproaches, even for bitter
+words; but this softness, this tearful and caressing gentleness, seemed
+to deprive her of all strength, to cut away the ground from under her
+feet. She was at once touched and grateful for her sister's forbearance.
+
+'You are very good to me, Gage,' she said in a low voice; 'I know how
+utterly I have disappointed you and Percival--and from a worldly point
+of view I daresay you are both right. Cyril is poor, he has to work his
+way up, he is not what people would call a good match; but then, you
+know, I have always been terribly unpractical.'
+
+'It is not only that,' sighed Geraldine; 'as far as Mr. Blake is
+concerned, one cannot say much against him; he is very gentlemanly. I
+suppose one would get used to him, though I shall never, never think him
+good enough for you. But there are other objections: the idea that Mrs.
+Blake will be your mother-in-law makes me utterly wretched.'
+
+'Poor woman! she is so nice, and I am so fond of her. I often wonder why
+you are so prejudiced against her, Gage; but of course it is all that
+tiresome Mrs. Bryce.'
+
+'No, indeed, it is not,' returned Mrs. Harcourt quickly. 'I do not want
+to vex you, Audrey; things are miserable enough without our quarrelling,
+and however unhappy you make me, I will never quarrel with my only
+sister. But you must let me say this for once, that I cannot like Mrs.
+Blake. From the first moment I have distrusted her, and I know Percival
+feels the same.'
+
+'But, Gage, do be reasonable. I am going to marry Cyril, not Mrs.
+Blake!'
+
+'When a woman marries she enters her husband's family,' returned
+Geraldine in her old decided manner; 'you will belong to them, not to
+us--at least,' correcting herself, as the thought of her daily visits to
+Woodcote occurred to her, 'you will have to share your husband's
+interests and responsibilities with regard to his family. You cannot
+divide yourself from him without failing in your wifely duty.'
+
+'I am quite of your opinion,' returned Audrey happily; 'Cyril's mother
+and Kester and Mollie will be very dear to me. I never dreamt for one
+moment of separating my interests from his.'
+
+'If I thought you really loved him----' observed Geraldine, but here she
+stopped, warned by an indignant flash in Audrey's gray eyes.
+
+'You might have spared me that, Gage,' she said, rather sadly; 'I think
+I have had enough to bear already from you and Percival. You have done
+your best to depress and dishearten me; you have not even wished me
+happiness.' Then Geraldine burst into tears.
+
+'I don't want to be unkind,' she sobbed, in such distress that Audrey
+repented her quick words; 'but you must give me time to get over this.
+It is the first real trouble I have ever had.' And then, as Audrey
+kissed her and coaxed her, she allowed herself to be somewhat consoled.
+
+'You know you must think of yourself, Gage; you must not make yourself
+ill about me. I am not worth it.' Then Geraldine did summon up a smile.
+
+'And you will be good to Cyril? The poor fellow could not help falling
+in love with me, you know.'
+
+'Of course we shall behave properly to him,' returned Geraldine, drawing
+herself up a little stiffly; 'you must not expect us to receive him with
+open arms. Mr. Blake must know how entirely we disapprove of the
+engagement; but, of course, as my father has given his consent, we have
+no right to make ourselves disagreeable. You must give me a little time,
+Audrey, just to recover myself, and then he shall be asked to dinner.'
+
+'I hope you will not ask me at the same time!' exclaimed Audrey in
+genuine alarm; and Geraldine looked rather shocked.
+
+'Of course you must come with him! that is understood. You will be asked
+everywhere if--if----' looking at her suggestively, 'you mean your
+engagement to be known.'
+
+'Most certainly! I object very strongly to secrecy under any
+circumstances.'
+
+'Then in that case you must be prepared for congratulations and a round
+of dinners.'
+
+'I prefer congratulations to condolences,' returned Audrey a little
+wickedly; and then, as though to atone for her joke, she suddenly knelt
+down before her sister and put her arms round her. 'Dear Gage, I do feel
+such a wretch for having upset you like this. No wonder Percival owes me
+a grudge. Now, do say something nice to me before I go--there's a
+darling!' and, of course, Geraldine melted in a moment.
+
+'I do pray, with all my heart, that you may be happy,' she sighed, and
+then they kissed each other very affectionately. 'Give my love to
+mother, and tell her I am not well enough to come to her to-day,' were
+Geraldine's parting words as Audrey left her.
+
+Mr. Harcourt came out of his study the moment he heard the door close.
+
+'Well,' he asked, with a shade of anxiety in his tone, 'have you made
+any impression, my dear?'
+
+'No, Percy,' returned his wife sadly. 'She is bent on taking her own
+way--the Blake influence is far too strong.'
+
+'Ah, well,' in a tone of strong disgust, 'she is making her own bed, and
+must lie on it. It was an evil day for all of us when your father
+engaged Blake for his junior classical master. I wanted him to have
+Sowerby--Sowerby is the better man, and all his people are
+gentlefolks--but there is no turning the Doctor when he has got an idea
+in his head: no one but Blake would do. And now mischief has come of it.
+But, all the same, I won't have you making yourself ill about
+it--remember that, my love. You have got me to think about, and I don't
+choose to have my wife spoiling her eyes after this fashion. It is too
+damp for you to go out, for there has been a sharp shower or two; but I
+have half an hour to spare, and can read to you if you like.' And to
+this Geraldine gratefully assented.
+
+It may be doubted whether she heard much of the brilliant essay that Mr.
+Harcourt had selected for her delectation, but it was very soothing to
+lie there and listen to her husband's voice. The sentences grew involved
+presently, and there was a humming, as though of bees, in the quiet
+room. Mr. Harcourt smiled to himself as he went on reading--the sleep
+would do her more good than the essay, he thought; and in this he was
+right.
+
+When Mrs. Ross received her daughter's message she at once prepared to
+go up to Hillside, and spent the remainder of the afternoon there.
+
+Geraldine had awakened from her nap much refreshed, and was disposed to
+take a less lugubrious view of things. She was certainly somewhat
+depressing at first, and her mother found her implied reproaches
+somewhat hard to bear; but she was still too languid and subdued to
+speak with her usual decision.
+
+'I suppose that we shall have to make the best of it,' she observed
+presently, in a resigned tone of voice. 'It will always be a great
+trouble to me--but one must expect trouble in this world, as I said to
+Percy just now. I am afraid we have been too happy.'
+
+'Oh, my dear! you must not say such things.'
+
+'It is better to say them than to think them. Percy never minds how much
+I complain to him, if I will only not brood over worries by myself. He
+says that it is so bad for me.'
+
+'Percival is quite right, my love;' and Mrs. Ross looked anxiously at
+her daughter's pale face. 'But you know your one duty is to keep
+yourself cheerful. Try and put all this away from your mind, and leave
+Audrey to be happy in her own way. Mr. Blake is really a very nice
+lovable fellow, and I am quite fond of him already, and so is your
+father--and I am sure your father is a good judge of character.'
+
+'Yes, mother dear; and you must not think Percy and I mean to be
+tiresome and disagreeable. It is not the young man so much that we
+mind--though we shall always think Audrey is lowering herself in
+marrying him--but it is that odious Mrs. Blake.'
+
+Then, for the moment, Mrs. Ross felt herself uncomfortable. Mrs. Blake
+had called on her that very morning, while Audrey was at Hillside, and
+in spite of her mildness and toleration she had been obliged to confess
+to herself that Mrs. Blake's manners had not quite pleased her.
+Geraldine managed to extract the whole account of the interview, though
+Mrs. Ross gave it rather reluctantly.
+
+'And I suppose she was absurdly impulsive, as usual, mother?' she asked,
+when Mrs. Ross had finished a somewhat brief narrative.
+
+'Well, yes. She is always rather effusive; people have their own style,
+you see.'
+
+'Only Mrs. Blake's is, unfortunately, a very bad style.'
+
+'I daresay you are right, my dear, and I certainly prefer a quieter
+manner; and it was not quite good taste lauding your father and me to
+the skies for our goodness in allowing the match. Poor woman! I daresay
+she was a little excited; only it was a pity to let her feelings carry
+her away--still, she was very nice about Audrey.'
+
+'She will be her daughter-in-law, you know.'
+
+Then Mrs. Ross winced slightly. She was glad that Mrs. Charrington was
+that moment announced--she was a pleasant chatty woman, and always paid
+long visits: Geraldine was her special favourite. As the news of the
+engagement had not yet reached her, the talk was confined to certain
+local interests: a new grant of books to the library, the difficulty of
+finding a butler, and the lameness of one of Dr. Ross's carriage-horses;
+and Mrs. Ross was in this manner relieved from any more awkward
+questions.
+
+Her husband was her only confidant, and to him she did disburden
+herself.
+
+'I do wish that Mrs. Blake were a different sort of woman, John,' she
+observed that night. 'She is very handsome and amusing; but she is
+certainly too unrestrained in her talk.'
+
+'We must take folk as we find them, Emmie,' returned Dr. Ross quietly.
+'Mrs. Blake is not your sort. In spite of having a grown-up son, she is
+not quite grown-up herself: middle-aged people ought not to talk out all
+their feelings as though they were children. But she is a very pleasing
+person for all that.'
+
+'So I always thought; but she tires one. Not that I would let Audrey
+know that.'
+
+'Oh, Audrey would keep a dozen Mrs. Blakes in order,' was her husband's
+response; and then Mrs. Ross said no more.
+
+Geraldine kept her word, and about a week later Cyril Blake received a
+civil little note, asking him to dine at Hillside on the following
+evening.
+
+'We shall be quite by ourselves. It will be only a family party--just my
+husband's brother, Mr. Walter Harcourt, and his wife;' for the Walter
+Harcourts had come on a visit.
+
+Cyril looked a little grave as he showed the note to Audrey.
+
+'I suppose I must go; but it will be very terrible. I don't mind telling
+you, Audrey, that I am awfully afraid of your sister.'
+
+'Poor fellow!' returned Audrey, with one of her charming smiles; 'I wish
+I could spare you this ordeal. But I can give you one bit of comfort:
+Gage will behave very nicely to you.' And though Cyril still felt a
+little dubious on this point, he was obliged to own afterwards that she
+was right.
+
+The evening was a far pleasanter one than he expected. Mr. Harcourt was
+thawed by his brother's presence, and though there was a slight
+stiffness and reserve in his manner to Cyril, there was no
+aggressiveness; and Geraldine was too much of a gentlewoman to behave
+ungraciously to any guest. Both of them were quite civil to Cyril,
+though they could not be said to be demonstrative, and there was no
+attempt to treat him as one of themselves.
+
+Mr. Walter Harcourt was a barrister, and was rapidly rising in his
+profession. He was considerably younger than his brother, and had
+recently married a wealthy young widow. He was a clever talker, and his
+stock of legal anecdotes kept them all well amused. He and Audrey were
+old friends, and at one time Geraldine and her husband had privately
+hoped that their acquaintance might ripen into a tenderer feeling.
+
+As soon as the ladies reached the drawing-room, Mrs. Walter Harcourt,
+who was a pretty, vivacious little woman, observed confidentially to
+Geraldine:
+
+'My dear, I must congratulate you. That future brother-in-law of yours
+is one of the handsomest men I have ever seen. I always thought Walter a
+good-looking fellow, and I daresay you thought much the same of
+Percival; but both our husbands looked very ordinary people beside him.
+In fact, Walter was quite clumsy.'
+
+'Nonsense, Maggie!' returned Geraldine, glancing behind her to see if
+Audrey were within earshot. 'How can you make such absurd comparisons?
+Of course Mr. Blake is good-looking; but, for my own part, I always
+distrust handsome men.'
+
+'They are generally such fools, you see. I hate talking to a man who is
+too self-engrossed to pay me attention. But Mr. Blake is thoroughly
+nice. I must go to Audrey and tell her how much I admire her _fiancé_.'
+
+'Thank goodness, that is over!' exclaimed Cyril fervently, as Audrey
+joined him in the porch. 'I have not had a word with you yet.'
+
+Audrey smiled as she gathered up her long dress and stepped out into the
+dark shrubberies.
+
+'It was very pleasant,' she observed tranquilly. 'The Walter Harcourts
+are clever, amusing people. You got on capitally with both of them; and,
+Cyril, I am sure Gage was as nice as possible.'
+
+'Oh yes!' he returned quickly; 'and I admire her excessively; but, all
+the same, I shall never feel at my ease with her.' And, as Audrey
+uttered a protest at this, he continued seriously: 'Of course, I know
+what Mrs. Harcourt thinks of my presumption; her manner told me that at
+once. "You are not one of us"--that is what her tone said to me; and yet
+she was quite kind and civil. Oh, Audrey'--interrupting himself, and
+speaking almost passionately--'if I were only more worthy of you! But
+have patience with me, and your people shall respect me yet.'
+
+'Dear Cyril, please do not talk so!' and Audrey stole closer to him in
+the October darkness. 'You have behaved so beautifully to-night, and I
+felt, oh! so proud of my sweetheart. And if I am content, what does it
+matter what other people think?'
+
+'Forgive me, darling,' he returned remorsefully; 'I am only sometimes a
+little sore because I can give you so little.'
+
+And then his mood changed, for the subtle comfort of her sweet words
+was thrilling through him; for he was young, and the girl he worshipped
+from the depths of his honest heart was alone with him under the dim,
+cloudy skies. Was it any wonder that the world was forgotten, and only
+the golden haze of the future seemed before them, as they walked
+together through the quiet streets to Woodcote?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+WHAT MICHAEL THOUGHT OF IT
+
+     'Not to be solitary one must possess, entirely to one's self, a
+     human creature, and belong exclusively to her (or him).'--GUIZOT.
+
+     'How, then, is one to recover courage enough for action?
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     By extracting a richer experience out of our losses and
+     lessons.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+Captain Burnett had finished his troublesome piece of business, and was
+thinking of his return home. His friend was, metaphorically speaking, on
+his feet again, and Michael was now free to leave London. He had waited,
+however, for another day or two on Kester's account; the friendly doctor
+who had undertaken to look into his case had already done wonders.
+Kester was making rapid progress under his care, and his bright looks
+and evident enjoyment of his town life reconciled Michael to their long,
+protracted stay.
+
+'We must certainly go back to Rutherford next week,' he observed one
+morning, as they sat at breakfast together.
+
+Kester had some appointment with Fred Somers that called him out early,
+and Captain Burnett good-naturedly left his letters unread, that he
+might pour out the coffee and attend to his wants.
+
+'They will keep, and I have nothing to do this morning,' he remarked
+carelessly, as he took them up and laid them down again.
+
+After all, he would not be sorry to read them alone. There was an Indian
+letter, and one from Audrey, and several notes that were evidently
+invitations.
+
+When Kester had left him, he sat down in an easy-chair by the window.
+There was a little table beside him, with a red jar full of brown leaves
+and chrysanthemums. He picked out one and played with it for a moment,
+and then Booty jumped up uninvited and curled himself up on his knee.
+
+He read the invitations first, and then threw them aside.
+
+'I shall be at Rutherford,' he thought; and then he opened his Indian
+letter.
+
+It was from a fellow-officer, and contained an amusing account of a
+visit he had lately paid to Calcutta. Just at the end it said: 'By the
+bye, somebody told me the other day that your uncle, Mr. Carlisle, was
+ill. He has got a nasty attack, and the doctors are shaking their heads
+over him. The fellow who told me--it was Donarton--mentioned that you
+were likely to take a lively interest in the news. Is that true, old
+man, or has Mr. Carlisle any nearer relative than yourself? From what I
+hear, he is a sort of nabob in these parts.'
+
+Captain Burnett put down this letter, and looked dreamily out of the
+window. Was it really so, he wondered? Major Glenyow was not the sort of
+fellow to mention a mere report. His uncle was by no means an old man,
+and once or twice a rumour of his intended marriage had reached his
+ears, but it had never been verified. If it were true that his uncle
+were in a bad way, that he should not recover, then, indeed, there was a
+possibility. And here, in spite of himself, Michael fell into a
+day-dream.
+
+If he were rich, if he had sufficient to offer a comfortable home and
+some of the luxuries of life to the woman he wished to make his wife,
+would it be right for him to speak? For years his poverty and ill-health
+had kept him silent; he had made no sign: he had been her faithful
+friend and cousin--that was all!
+
+But now, if the pressure of narrow means were removed, if, after all, he
+were his uncle's heir--as he verily believed himself to be--might he not
+venture to plead his cause at last? His health was better, and his
+doctor had often told him, half seriously and half in joke, that all he
+needed was a good wife to take care of him.
+
+'I shall never be as strong as other men,' he said to himself; 'some
+women might object to me on that score. But she is not that sort: she
+loves to take care of people, to feel herself necessary to them.' And
+here a smile came to his lips. 'I have never spoken to her, never
+dropped a hint of my feelings; but, somehow, I do not think she would be
+surprised if I ever told them--we have been so much to each other. I
+think I could teach her to love me in time--at least, I would try, my
+sweet.' And here there was a sudden gleam and fire in his eyes, and then
+he took up Audrey's letter, and began to read it.
+
+But when he had finished the first sentence, a curious dull feeling came
+over him, and he found that he could not understand what he was reading;
+he must go over the passage again. But as he re-read it the same
+numbness and impossibility of comprehension came over him; and yet the
+words were very clearly written:
+
+'Shall you be very much surprised, my dear Michael, to hear some news I
+have to tell you? I am engaged to Mr. Blake. I will tell you all about
+it presently, just as though you were my father-confessor; I will not
+hide one little thing from you. But I was never one to beat about the
+bush, and I hope my abruptness has not made you jump; but oh, Michael
+dear, I am so happy!' etc.
+
+He read this sentence half a dozen times, until something of its meaning
+had taken hold of his dense brain; and then he read the letter straight
+through to the very end, slowly, and often pausing over a sentence that
+seemed to him a little involved. And as he read there was a pinched gray
+look upon his face, as though some sudden illness had seized him; but he
+was not conscious of any active pain, though the whole plan and purpose
+of his life lay crushed in the dust before him, like the chrysanthemum
+that Booty was tearing, petal by petal, until his master's coat-sleeve
+was covered with golden-brown shreds. On the contrary, as he sat there,
+holding the letter between his limp hands, his mind wandered off to a
+story he had once read.
+
+Was it the wreck of the _Royal George_, he wondered? The name of the
+vessel had escaped him, but he knew the story was a true one; it had
+really happened. He had read how the vessel was doomed. She was a
+troop-ship, and there were hundreds of brave English soldiers on board;
+and when they knew there was no hope, the officers drew up their men on
+the deck, just as though they were on parade; and the gallant fellows
+stood there, in rank and file, as they went down to their watery grave.
+
+'And not a man of them flinched, you may depend on that,' he said, half
+aloud; 'for they were Englishmen, and Englishmen know how to die.'
+
+And it seemed to him that he was still ruminating over this old story
+that had happened so many, many years ago, when Kester returned, and he
+must needs tell him the story again, and he told it very well, too.
+
+'And not a man of them flinched,' he repeated, rising a little feebly
+from his chair, 'for they were Englishmen, and Englishmen know how to
+die. Why are you staring at me, boy? It is a good story, is it not?'
+
+'Very good indeed, but I was only afraid you were not quite well,
+Captain Burnett; you look so queer, somehow, and your hand is shaking.'
+
+'I have sat too long. I think I must walk off my stiffness. Don't wait
+lunch for me, Kester. I may go to my club.'
+
+And then he took down his hat, and went out in the streets, with Booty
+ambling along at his heels.
+
+But he did not go far; he strolled into the Park and sat down on a
+bench. The air refreshed him, and the miserable numb feelings left him,
+and he had power to think.
+
+But there were deep lines in his face as he sat there, and a great
+sadness in his eyes, and just before he rose to go home a few words
+escaped him. 'Oh, my darling, what a mistake, when you belong to me!
+Will you ever find it out for yourself? Will you ever recognise that it
+is a mistake?' And then he set his teeth hard, like a man who knows his
+strength and refuses to be beaten.
+
+And the next morning, as they sat at breakfast, Michael looked up from
+his newspaper and asked Kester if he had heard the Rutherford news.
+
+'Perhaps your mother or Mollie has written to you?' he observed, as he
+carelessly scanned the columns.
+
+Kester looked up a little anxiously.
+
+'No one has told me anything,' he said, rather nervously. 'I hope it is
+not bad news.'
+
+'Most people would call it good news. Your brother and Miss Ross are
+engaged. Well'--as Kester jumped from his seat flushing scarlet--'aren't
+you delighted? I think you ought to write a pretty note to Miss Ross to
+go with my letter.'
+
+'Have you written to her? Will you give her a message from me? I would
+rather write to Cyril. I don't take it in, somehow; you are quite sure
+it is true, Captain Burnett? Of course, I am glad that Cyril should be
+happy, but I always thought----'
+
+And here Kester stammered and got confused; but Michael did not help
+him. He took up his paper again, and left him to finish his breakfast in
+silence, and after that he remarked that he was going down to his club.
+
+Kester curled himself up on the window-seat as soon as he was left
+alone, and fell into a brown study. Somehow he could not make it out at
+all. He was sharp-witted by nature, and years of suffering and forced
+inaction had made him more thoughtful than most boys of his age. He had
+long ago grasped the idea that his idolised hero was not happy, and
+during their stay in Scotland some dim surmise of the truth had occurred
+to him.
+
+'Dear old Cyril!' he observed, half aloud; 'I am awfully glad for his
+sake; but it always seemed to me as though Miss Ross were a cut above
+us. If only I were sure that he was glad, too.'
+
+And here a troubled look crossed the boy's face; he was thinking of the
+story Captain Burnett had told him yesterday, and of the strange dazed
+look in Michael's eyes: 'And not a man of them flinched; for they were
+Englishmen, and Englishmen know how to die.' 'Ah, and to live, too!'
+thought Kester, as he roused himself at last and sat down to his Greek.
+
+When Audrey heard that Michael was really coming home, she felt as
+though she had nothing more to wish. She had read his letter at least a
+dozen times; its brotherly tenderness and anxiety for her welfare had
+touched her to the heart.
+
+'I am very grateful for your confidence,' he wrote, after a few earnest
+wishes for her happiness. 'I would like, if it were possible, to keep my
+old place as Mentor--we have always been such friends, dear, such true
+and trusty comrades; and I do not think that Mr. Blake will object to my
+cousinly surveillance. I could not afford to lose you out of my life,
+Audrey; so let me subscribe myself, now and for ever, your faithful
+friend and brother--MICHAEL.'
+
+Audrey sighed gently as she put down the letter; it touched, but it did
+not completely satisfy her. Michael had not said he was glad to hear of
+her engagement. He was truthful almost to a fault. The conventional
+falsehoods that other men uttered were never on his lips. If he could
+not approve, he would take refuge in silence. 'Silence never damages a
+man's character,' he was fond of saying; but many people found this
+oppressive. Audrey had secretly longed for some such word of approval.
+If Michael had only told her that he applauded her courage in marrying a
+poor man, if he had praised her unworldliness, she would have been
+utterly content; but the letter that Michael had written with a breaking
+heart held no such comfort for her. He had accepted her decision without
+a word, and though his message of congratulation to Cyril was all that
+could be wished, there was no further allusion to him.
+
+'Michael thinks I have been rash,' she said to herself a little
+sorrowfully. 'I suppose he, too, considers that Cyril is rather too
+young. If Michael were only on our side, I should not care what the rest
+of the world thinks;' and then she folded up the letter.
+
+But on the day Michael was expected her face was so radiant that Cyril
+pretended to be jealous. 'You are very fond of your cousin,' he observed
+as he followed her to the window, where she was watching the clouds a
+little anxiously.
+
+Audrey heard him rather absently. She was thinking that the dampness
+might bring on Michael's neuralgia, and that, if he had only named his
+train, the carriage might have been sent for him--indeed, she would have
+driven out herself to meet him and Kester. 'Oh yes,' she rejoined; 'I
+have missed him terribly all this time. Nothing is right without
+Michael----' and as Cyril looked a little surprised at this, she added
+quickly: 'He is like my own brother, Cyril, so it is perfectly natural,
+you see; ever since his illness he has been one of us.' And as Cyril
+professed himself satisfied with this explanation, there was nothing
+more said, and Audrey went up to put the finishing touches to Michael's
+rooms, and to arrange the chrysanthemums and coloured leaves in the big
+Indian jars. If she had only known how Michael would shudder at the
+sight of these chrysanthemums! He had taken a dislike to the flowers
+ever since Booty had covered his coat-sleeve with golden-brown petals.
+
+After all, Michael came before he was expected. Audrey was sitting
+chatting to her mother in the twilight, when they heard the hall door
+open and close, and the next moment they saw Michael standing on the
+threshold looking at them.
+
+'My dear Michael!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross; but Audrey had already crossed
+the room: both her hands were in Michael's, and he was looking at her
+with his old kind smile, though he did not say a word; but Audrey did
+not seem to notice his silence.
+
+'Have you walked from the Gray Cottage? We did not hear any wheels. Why
+did you not let us know your train, and I would have driven in to meet
+you? Mother, I am going to ring for the lamp and tea; Michael will be
+tired!' And Audrey did as she said, and then picked up Booty and
+lavished all sorts of caresses on the little animal, while she listened
+to the quiet explanations that Michael was giving to Mrs. Ross.
+
+'You are looking very well, Audrey,' he said at last; 'you have not lost
+your moorland colour yet.' And though he said this in his usual tone,
+he thought that never in his life had he seen her look so sweet.
+
+'I wish I could return the compliment,' was her answer; 'you are looking
+thin and pale, Michael. You have been giving us such a good account of
+yourself, but London never suits you.'
+
+'I think it suits me better than it did,' he returned quietly; but he
+could not quite meet her affectionate look. 'I shall have to run up
+there pretty frequently now; one must look up one's friends more: out of
+sight is out of mind in many cases.'
+
+Audrey gave an incredulous smile. She thought Michael would not act up
+to this resolution; but he fully meant what he said. Woodcote, dearly as
+he loved it, would never be his home now. Of course, he would do things
+by degrees: his brief absences should grow longer and more frequent,
+until they had become used to them; and perhaps in time he might break
+with his old life altogether. But he put away these thoughts, and talked
+to them in his usual easy fashion, asking questions about Geraldine and
+her husband; and presently Dr. Ross came in and monopolised him
+entirely.
+
+Audrey felt as though she had not had a word with him when she went
+upstairs to dress for dinner. True, he had asked after Cyril, and
+inquired if he were coming in that evening; but on Audrey's replying in
+the negative he had made no observation.
+
+'When father is in the room he never will let Michael talk to anyone
+else,' she said to herself rather discontentedly; 'if I could only get
+him alone!'
+
+She had her wish presently, for on her return to the drawing-room she
+found him lying back in an easy-chair, looking at the fire. He was
+evidently thinking intently, for he did not hear her entrance until she
+was close beside him; but at the touch of her hand on his shoulder he
+started violently.
+
+'A penny for your thoughts, Michael,' she said gaily, as he jumped up
+and stood beside her on the rug.
+
+'They are too valuable to be saleable,' he returned lightly; 'suppose
+you let me hear yours instead.'
+
+'You shall have them and welcome. Oh, Michael, how delicious it is to be
+talking to you again; letters are so stupid and unsatisfactory!'
+
+'Do you mean my letters in particular?'
+
+'Oh no! They were as nice as possible; but, all the same, they did not
+quite satisfy me. Do you know,' and here her tone was a little wistful,
+'you have not told me that you are glad about my engagement? You said so
+many nice things; but somehow I was longing for just one word of
+approval from my old Mentor.'
+
+An uneasy flush crossed Michael's face; but the firelight was flickering
+just then, and Audrey could not see him distinctly. For one moment he
+was silent; then he put her gently in a seat and placed himself beside
+her. It would be easier to talk to her so, and perhaps he was conscious
+of some sudden weakness.
+
+'How cold your hands are!' she observed anxiously; 'if you will break
+the big coal the fire will burn more brightly.' And as he obeyed her she
+continued: 'Ah, now we can see each other! I do dislike a flickering,
+uncertain light. Now, will you tell me frankly if you were glad or sorry
+when you got my letter?'
+
+He was more prepared now, and his voice was quite steady as he answered
+her.
+
+'Mentor has no objection to be catechised, but he wishes to put one
+question first. Are you quite content and happy, Audrey?'
+
+'Indeed I am!' turning to him one of the brightest faces he had ever
+seen.
+
+'Then, my dear, I am satisfied, too.'
+
+'Oh, but that will not do! You must tell me your own private opinion. I
+know you like Cyril--you have always spoken well of him; but are you
+sure that in your heart you thoroughly approve my choice?'
+
+She was pressing him close, but he did not flinch; he only turned to her
+rather gravely.
+
+'My dear Audrey, there are limits even to Mentor's privileges. When two
+people make up their minds to take each other for better, for worse, no
+third person has a right to give an opinion. I know little of Mr. Blake,
+but I have already a respect for him. I am perfectly sure that in time
+we shall be good friends.'
+
+'I hope so--I hope so from my heart!' she returned earnestly. 'You are
+very guarded, Michael; and, though you are too kind to say so, I know
+you think I have acted rather hastily. Perhaps you would rather I had
+waited a little longer; but Cyril was so unhappy, and I--well, I was not
+quite comfortable myself. It is so much nicer to have it all settled.'
+
+'Yes, I see.'
+
+'And now everything is just perfect. Oh, Michael, you must not go away
+for a long time! I cannot do without you.'
+
+'I hope you don't expect me to believe that?'
+
+'But it is perfectly true, I assure you. Actually, Cyril pretended to be
+jealous to-day, because I could think of nothing but your coming home.
+He was only teasing me; for of course he understands what we feel for
+each other. If you were my own brother, Michael, I could not want you
+more. But that is the best of Cyril; he is really so unselfish--almost
+as unselfish as you.'
+
+'My dear child,' returned Michael lazily, 'did you ever hear of a
+certain philosopher named Diogenes, and how he set off one day, lamp in
+hand, to search through the city for an honest man? Really, your remark
+makes me inclined to light my own private farthing dip, and look for
+this curious anomaly, an unselfish man.'
+
+'You would not have to go far,' she returned innocently. 'There are two
+of them in Rutherford at the present moment.'
+
+But he only shook his head and laughed at this guileless flattery, and
+at that moment, to his relief, Dr. Ross came into the room.
+
+But as he took his place at the dinner-table he had a curious sensation,
+as though he had been racked; and, though he laughed and talked, he had
+an odd feeling all the time as though he were not quite sure of his own
+identity; and all that evening a few words that Audrey had said haunted
+him like a refrain:
+
+'If you were my own brother, Michael, I could not want you more--if you
+were my own brother I could not want you more!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+MICHAEL TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF
+
+     'My privilege is to be the spectator of my own life-drama, to be
+     fully conscious of the tragi-comedy of my own destiny; and, more
+     than that, to be in the secret of the tragi-comic itself.
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     'Without grief, which is the string of this venturesome kite, man
+     would soar too quickly and too high, and the chosen souls would be
+     lost for the race, like balloons, which, but for gravitation, would
+     never return from the empyrean.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+Michael's return had greatly added to Audrey's happiness. In spite of
+her lover's society and her natural joyousness of disposition, she had
+been conscious that something had been lacking to her complete
+contentment.
+
+'No one but Michael could take Michael's place,' as she told him a
+little pathetically that first evening.
+
+But when a few days had elapsed she became aware that things were not
+quite the same between them--that the Michael who had come back to her
+was not exactly the old Michael.
+
+The old Michael had been somewhat of an autocrat--a good-natured
+autocrat, certainly, who tyrannised over her for her own good, and who
+assumed the brotherly right of inquiring into all her movements and
+small daily plans. They had always been much together, especially since
+Geraldine's marriage had deprived her of sisterly companionship; and it
+had been an understood thing in the Ross family that where Audrey was,
+Michael was generally not far off.
+
+Under these circumstances, it was therefore quite natural that Audrey
+should expect her cousin to resume his usual habits. She had counted on
+his companionship during the hours Cyril was engaged in his schoolroom
+duties. In old times Michael had often accompanied her on her visits to
+her various _protégées_; he had always been her escort to the
+garden-parties that were greatly in vogue at Rutherford, or he would
+drive her to Brail or some of the outlying towns or villages where she
+had business.
+
+It was somewhat of a disappointment, then, to find that Michael had
+suddenly turned over a new leaf, and was far too occupied to be at her
+beck and call. Kester came to him almost daily, and it became his custom
+to spend the remainder of the morning in Dr. Ross's study. He had a
+habit, too, of writing his letters after luncheon; in fact, he was
+seldom disengaged until the evening, when he was always ready to take
+his place in the family circle.
+
+Audrey accused herself of selfishness. Of course she ought to be glad
+that Michael's health had so much improved. Her father was always
+remarking on the change in a tone of satisfaction.
+
+'He is like the old Mike,' he said once; 'he has taken a new departure,
+and has shaken off his listlessness. Why, he works quite steadily now
+for hours without knocking up. He is a different man. He takes a class
+for me every morning; it does me good to see him with half a dozen boys
+round him. Blake will have to look out for himself; he is hardly as
+popular as the Captain.'
+
+Audrey took herself to task severely when her father said this. It was
+evident that Michael had spoilt her. She was determined not to
+monopolise him so selfishly; but, somehow, when it came to the point,
+she was always forgetting these good resolutions.
+
+And another thing puzzled Audrey: Michael was certainly quieter than he
+used to be; when they were alone--which was a rare occurrence now--he
+seemed to have so little to say to her. Sometimes he would take up his
+book and read out a few passages, but if she begged him to put it down
+and talk to her instead, he would dispute the point in the most tiresome
+fashion.
+
+'I think people talk too much, nowadays,' he would say in his lazy way;
+'it is all lip-service now. If women would only cultivate their minds a
+little more, and learn to hold their tongues until they have something
+worth saying, the world would not be flooded with all this muddy
+small-talk. Now, for example, if you would allow me to read you this
+fine passage from Emerson.'
+
+But if Audrey would allow nothing of the kind, and if, on the contrary,
+she manifested an obstinate determination to talk, he would argue with
+her in the same playful fashion; but she could never draw him into one
+of their old confidential talks.
+
+But when they were all together of an evening, Michael would be more
+like his old self. He would sit beside the piano when she sang, and turn
+over the leaves for her, or he would coax her to be his partner in a
+game of whist, and lecture her in his old fashion; but all the time he
+would be looking at her so kindly that his lectures never troubled her
+in the least.
+
+But when Cyril spent the evening at Woodcote, which was generally once
+or twice a week, Michael never seemed to think that they wanted him: he
+would bury himself in his book or paper, or challenge Dr. Ross to a game
+of chess. He never took any notice of Audrey's appealing looks, and her
+kindly attempts to draw him into conversation with her and Cyril were
+all disregarded.
+
+Audrey bore this for some time, and then she made up her mind that she
+must speak to him. She was a little shy of approaching the
+subject--Michael never seemed to give her any opening now--but she felt
+she must have it out with him.
+
+One evening, when she and Cyril had exchanged their parting words in the
+hall, she went back to the drawing-room and found Michael standing alone
+before the fire. She went up to him at once, but as he turned to her she
+was struck with his air of weariness and depression.
+
+'Oh, Michael, how tired you look!' she observed, laying her hand on his
+arm. 'Have you neuralgia again?' And as he shook his head, she continued
+anxiously: 'Are you sure you are quite well--that nothing is troubling
+you? You have been so very quiet this evening. Michael'--and here she
+blushed a little--'I want to say something to you, and yet I hardly know
+how to put it--it is just like your thoughtfulness--but, indeed, there
+is no need: you are never in the way.'
+
+'Is this an enigma? If so, I may as well tell you I give it up at once.
+I never could guess conundrums;' and Michael twirled his moustache in a
+most provoking way; but, all the same, he perfectly understood her. 'I
+give it up,' he repeated.
+
+Audrey pretended to frown.
+
+'Michael, I never knew you so tiresome before. It is impossible to speak
+seriously to you--and I really am serious.' And then her tone changed,
+and she looked at him very gently. 'You mean it so kindly, but indeed it
+is not necessary. Neither Cyril nor I could ever find you in the way.'
+
+He looked down at the rug as she spoke, and there was a moment's
+silence before he answered her. She had come straight to him from her
+lover to say this thing to him. It was so like Audrey to tell him this.
+An odd thought occurred to him as he listened to her--one of those
+sudden flashes of memory that sometimes dart across the mind: he
+remembered that once in his life he had kissed her.
+
+It had been half a lifetime ago. She was only a child. They were staying
+in London, and he had come to see them on his way from some review. He
+remembered how Audrey had stood and looked at him. She had the same
+clear gray eyes then.
+
+'How grand you look, Mike!' she exclaimed in an awestruck tone, for as a
+child she had always called him 'Mike.' 'I wish you would always wear
+that beautiful scarlet coat; and I think, if you did not mind, I should
+like you to kiss me just for once.'
+
+Michael remembered how he had felt as she made that innocent request,
+and how Dr. Ross had laughed; and then, when he kissed her cheek, she
+thanked him quite gravely, and slipped back to her father.
+
+'Why don't you ask for a kiss, too, Gage?' Dr. Ross observed in a joking
+way.
+
+But Geraldine had looked quite shocked at the idea.
+
+'No, thank you, father; I never kiss soldiers,' she replied
+discreetly--at which reply there had been a fresh laugh.
+
+'He may be a soldier, but Mike's Mike, and I wanted to kiss him,'
+returned Audrey stoutly. 'Why do you laugh, daddy?--little girls may
+kiss anybody.'
+
+Had he cared for her ever since then, he wondered; and then he pulled
+himself up with a sort of start.
+
+'Michael, why do you not answer me?'
+
+'Because I was thinking,' he returned quietly. 'Audrey, do you know you
+are just as much a child as you were a dozen years ago? Does it ever
+occur to you, my dear, that Blake might not always endorse your opinion?
+Stop,' as she was about to speak; 'we all know what a kind-hearted
+person our Lady Bountiful is, and how she never thinks of herself at
+all. But I have a sort of fellow-feeling with Blake, and I quite
+understand his view of the case--that two is company and three are
+none.'
+
+'But, Michael,' and here Audrey blushed again, most becomingly, 'indeed
+Cyril is not so ridiculous. I know what people generally think: that
+engaged couples like to be left to themselves--and I daresay it is
+pleasant sometimes--but I don't see why they are to be selfish. Cyril
+has plenty of opportunities for talking to me; but when he comes of an
+evening there is no need for you to turn hermit.'
+
+'It is a character I prefer. All old bachelors develop this sort of
+tendency to isolate themselves at times from their fellow-creatures. To
+be sure, I am naturally gregarious; but, then, I hate to spoil sport.
+"Do as you would be done by"--that is the Burnett motto. So, by your
+favour, I intend Blake to have his own way.'
+
+'Oh, how silly you must think us!' she returned impatiently. 'I wish you
+would not be so self-opinionative, Michael; for you are wrong--quite
+wrong. I should be far happier if you would make one of us, as you do on
+other evenings.'
+
+'And this is the _rôle_ you have selected for me,' replied Michael
+mournfully: 'to play gooseberry in my old age, and get myself hated for
+my pains. No, my dear child; listen to the words of wisdom: leave Mentor
+to enjoy a surreptitious nap in his arm-chair, and be content with your
+Blake audience.' And, in spite of all her coaxing and argument, she
+could not induce him to promise that he would mend his ways.
+
+'You are incorrigible!' she said, as she bade him good-night. 'After
+all, Cyril gives me my own way far more than you do.'
+
+But Michael seemed quite impervious to this reproach: the smile was
+still on his face as she left him; but as the door closed his elbow
+dropped heavily on the mantelpiece, and a sombre look came into the keen
+blue eyes.
+
+'Shall I have to give it up and go away?' he said to himself. 'Life is
+not worth living at this price. Oh, my darling! my innocent darling! why
+do you not leave me in peace? why do you tempt me with your sweet looks
+and words to be false to my own sense of honour? But I will not yield--I
+dare not, for all our sakes. If she will not let me take my own way, I
+must just throw it all up and go abroad. God bless her! I know she means
+what she says, and Mike is Mike still.' And then he groaned, and his
+head dropped on his arms, and the tide of desolation swept over him. He
+was still young--in the prime of life--and yet what good was his life to
+him?
+
+Audrey was a healthy-minded young person; she was not given to
+introspection. She never took herself to pieces, in a morbid way, to
+examine the inner workings of her own mind, after the manner of some
+folk, who regulate themselves in a bungling fashion, and wind
+themselves up afresh daily; and who would even time their own
+heart-beats if it were possible.
+
+Audrey was not one of these scrupulous self-critics. She would have
+considered it waste of time to be always weighing herself and her
+feelings in a nicely-adjusted balance. 'Know thyself,' said an old
+thinker; but Audrey Ross would have altered the saying: 'Look out of
+yourself; self-forgetfulness is better than any amount of
+self-knowledge.'
+
+Nevertheless, Audrey was a little thoughtful after this conversation
+with Michael, and during the next few weeks she was conscious of feeling
+vaguely dissatisfied with herself. Now and then she wondered if she were
+different from other girls, and if her absence of moods, and her
+constant serenity and gaiety, were not signs of a phlegmatic
+temperament.
+
+She was perfectly content with her own position. She had never imagined
+before how pleasant it would be to be engaged, and to have one human
+being entirely devoted to her. She was very much attached to her
+_fiancé_. He never disappointed her; on the contrary, she discovered
+every day some new and admirable trait that excited her admiration, and
+as a lover he was simply perfect. He never made her uneasy by demanding
+more than she felt inclined to give; at the same time, it deepened her
+sense of security and restfulness to feel how completely he understood
+her.
+
+But now and then she would ask herself if her love for Cyril were all
+that it ought to be. She began to compare herself with others--with
+Geraldine, for example. She remembered the months of Geraldine's
+engagement, and how entirely she and Percival had been absorbed in each
+other. Geraldine had never seemed to have eyes or ears for anyone but
+her lover, and in his absence she had hardly seemed like herself at all.
+
+She had been obliged to pay a few weeks' visit to some friends in
+Scotland, and Audrey had accompanied her, and she remembered how, when
+their visit was half over, she had jestingly observed that she would
+never be engaged to anyone if she were compelled to lose her own
+identity. 'For you know you are not the same person, Gage,' she had
+said; 'instead of taking pleasure in our friends' society, you shut
+yourself up and write endless letters to Percival; and when we drive out
+or go in the boat, you never seem to see the beautiful scenery, and the
+mountains and the loch might be in the clouds; and when anyone asks you
+a question, you seem to answer it from a distance, and everyone knows
+that your thoughts are at Rutherford.' And though Geraldine had chosen
+to be offended at this plain speaking, she had not been able to defend
+herself. And then, had not Audrey once found her crying in her room, and
+for a long time she had refused to be comforted? Audrey had been much
+alarmed, for she thought something must be wrong at Woodcote; but it was
+only that Percival had a headache and seemed so dull without her. 'He
+says he really cannot bear the place without me, that he thinks he must
+go to Edith--and, and, I want to go home dreadfully,' finished Geraldine
+tearfully; 'I don't think engaged people ought to leave each other, and
+I know Percival thinks so too.'
+
+Audrey remembered this little episode when during the Christmas holidays
+Cyril was obliged to go up to town for ten days. She missed him
+excessively, and wrote him charming little letters every day; but,
+nevertheless, the time did not hang heavily on her hands. But she was
+glad when the day of his return arrived, and she went down to the Gray
+Cottage to welcome him. Mrs. Blake had suggested it as a little
+surprise, and Audrey had agreed at once. Cyril's delight at seeing her
+almost deprived him of good manners. He knew his _fiancée_ objected to
+any sort of demonstration before people; and he only just remembered
+this in time, as Audrey drew back with a heightened colour.
+
+But he made up for it afterwards when Mrs. Blake left them alone, and
+Audrey was almost overwhelmed by his vehement expressions of joy at
+finding himself with her again.
+
+'It has been the longest ten days I have ever spent in my life,' he
+observed; 'I was horribly bored, and as homesick as possible. I am
+afraid Norton found me very poor company. If it had not been for your
+letters, I could not have borne it. You shall never send me away again,
+dearest.'
+
+'But that is nonsense,' she returned, in her sensible way; 'you cannot
+stop at Rutherford all the year round, and it will not do for you to
+lose your friends. I shall have to pay visits myself; and I am afraid I
+shall not always ask your leave if any very tempting invitations come.'
+
+'You will not need to do so,' he answered quietly; 'do you think I
+should begrudge you any pleasure? I have no wish, even if I had the
+right, to curtail your freedom. I am not so selfish.'
+
+'You are never selfish,' she returned softly. 'Cyril dear, I suppose I
+ought to be pleased that you feel like this; but, do you know, I am just
+a little sorry.'
+
+'Sorry!' and indeed he could hardly believe his ears, for was he not
+paying her a pretty compliment?
+
+'Yes; it makes me rather uncomfortable. It seems to me as though I ought
+to feel the same, as though there were something wanting in me. I
+sometimes fancy I am different from other girls.'
+
+'Do not compare yourself with other people,' he returned quickly, for he
+could not bear her to look troubled for a moment. This mood was new to
+him, and he had never seen a shade on her bright face before. 'You have
+a calm temperament--that is your great charm--you are not subject to the
+cold and hot fits of ordinary mortals. It is my own fault that I cannot
+be happy without you; but I do not expect you to share my restlessness.'
+
+'Ah, that is right,' she replied, very much relieved by this. 'You are
+always so nice at understanding things, Cyril. Do you know, I was
+blaming myself for feeling so comfortable in your absence. But I was so
+busy--I had so many things to interest me; and, then, I had Michael.'
+
+The young man flushed slightly, but he had learnt to repress himself: he
+knew, far better than she did, that his love was infinitely greater than
+hers. But what of that? She was a woman made to be worshipped. It never
+troubled him when she talked of Michael--Cyril's nature was too noble
+for jealousy--but just for the moment her frankness jarred on him.
+
+'I think I was nearly as happy as usual,' she went on, determined to
+tell the truth; 'and yet, by your own account, you were perfectly
+miserable.'
+
+'But that was my own fault,' he returned lightly. 'Men are unreasonable
+creatures; they are not patient like women. It is true that I have no
+life apart from you now, and that I always want to be near you; but I do
+not expect you to feel the same.'
+
+Audrey looked at him thoughtfully; he gave her so much, and yet he
+seemed to demand so little.
+
+'You are very good to me, Cyril,' she said, in a low voice. 'I never
+thought you would understand me so thoroughly. You leave me so free, and
+you make me so happy. I wonder where you have learnt to be so wise.'
+
+'My love for you has taught me many things,' he answered. 'Do I really
+make you happy, sweetheart?'
+
+But the look in her eyes was sufficient answer. This was his reward--to
+see her perfect content and trust in him, and to bask in her sweet looks
+and smiles.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+TWO FAMILY EVENTS
+
+     'A solemn thing it is to me
+     To look upon a babe that sleeps,
+     Wearing in its spirit deeps
+     The undeveloped mystery
+     Of our Adam's taint and woe;
+     Which, when they developed be,
+     Will not let it slumber so.'
+
+                          MRS. BROWNING.
+
+
+One morning, as the Ross family were sitting at breakfast, Audrey
+noticed that Michael seemed very much absorbed by a letter he was
+reading. He laid it down presently, but made no remark, only he seemed a
+little grave and absent during the remainder of the meal.
+
+Just as they were rising from table, she heard him ask her father in
+rather a low tone if he would come into the study for a moment, as he
+wanted a few words with him; and as they went out together he mentioned
+the word dogcart--could he have it in time to catch the 11.15 train?
+
+Audrey felt a sudden quickening of curiosity. Michael's manner was so
+peculiar that she was sure something must have happened. She wondered
+what this sudden summons to town meant. It was a bitterly cold day, and
+a light fall of snow had whitened the ground. A three miles' drive in a
+dogcart was not a very agreeable proceeding, only Michael seemed so
+strangely callous to weather now. Surely her father would insist on his
+having a fly from the town? He was always so careful of Michael's
+comfort.
+
+Audrey could settle to nothing; it was impossible to practise or answer
+notes until she had had a word with Michael. So she took up the paper
+and pretended to read it, until the study door opened and she heard her
+cousin go up to his room. The next moment Dr. Ross walked in, looking
+as though he were very much pleased.
+
+'Mike's a droll fellow,' he said, addressing his wife, who was looking
+over the tradesmen's books. 'He has just told me, with a very long face,
+that his uncle, Mr. Carlisle, is dead, and that he has left him all his
+money; and he is as lugubrious over it as though he had been made
+bankrupt.'
+
+Audrey uttered an exclamation, but Mrs. Ross said, in her quiet way:
+
+'Perhaps he is grieved at the loss of his uncle, John. It would hardly
+be becoming to rejoice openly at the death of a relative, however rich
+he might be.'
+
+'I am afraid many men would if they were in Mike's shoes. Why, they say
+Mr. Carlisle was worth six or seven thousand a year--most of it solid
+capital, and locked up in safe securities and investments. He was always
+a canny Scotsman, and liked to take care of his money. And here is Mike
+pretending not to care a jot about it, and looking as though he had the
+cares of all the world on his shoulders.'
+
+'I think he shows very good feeling. Michael was never mercenary, and
+the loss of his only near relative would make him dull for a time.'
+
+'My dear Emmie, that is very pretty sentiment; but, unfortunately, it
+does not hold good in this case. Mike has never seen his uncle since he
+was a lad of eighteen--that is about seventeen years ago--and he has
+often owned to me that Mr. Carlisle was very close in his money
+dealings. "It is a pity there is no sympathy between us," he said once.
+"Uncle Andrew does not seem to have a thought beyond his money-grubbing.
+He is a decent sort of old fellow, I believe, and I daresay he will end
+by marrying some pretty girl or other, and then he will be properly
+miserable all the rest of his life." That does not sound much like an
+affectionate nephew.'
+
+'Oh, he never cared for him!' interposed Audrey; 'Michael and I have
+often talked about him. It seems so strange that he should leave him his
+money, when he took so little notice of him all these years.'
+
+'Well, he was not a demonstrative man,' returned her father; 'but in his
+way he seemed both fond and proud of Mike. I remember when he got the
+Victoria Cross, and was lying between life and death, poor lad! that Mr.
+Carlisle wrote very kindly and enclosed a cheque for two hundred pounds.
+I had to answer the letter for him, and I remember when he got better,
+and first came down here, that I recommended him to keep up a friendly
+intercourse with his uncle, though I do not believe he took my advice.
+Mike was always such a lazy beggar!'
+
+'And he has to go up to town to see his lawyer, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes, and he thinks he may be away a week or two; but, there, I must not
+stand here talking. I have told Reynolds to order a fly from the town;
+but he need not start for three-quarters of an hour.'
+
+Audrey waited impatiently for another twenty minutes before Michael made
+his appearance. He looked very cold, and at once proceeded to wheel an
+easy-chair in front of the fire.
+
+'I may as well get warm,' he observed. 'I expect we shall have a regular
+snowstorm before night. Look at that leaden sky! Well, what now?'
+
+For Audrey was kneeling on the rug, and she was looking at him with her
+brightest and most bewitching smile.
+
+'Michael, I am so glad, so very, very glad. I think I am as pleased as
+though the fortune were mine.'
+
+'Do you think that is a decent remark to make to a fellow who has just
+lost his uncle? Really, Audrey, you may well look ashamed of yourself; I
+quite blush for you. "Avarice, thy name is woman!"'
+
+'Now, Michael, don't be absurd. I am not a bit ashamed of myself. Of
+course, I am sorry the poor man is dead; but as I never saw him, I
+cannot be excessively grieved; but I am delighted that he has done the
+right thing and left you all his money, and I am sure in your heart that
+you are glad, too.'
+
+'It does not strike you that I may regard it in the light of an
+unmitigated bore. What does an old bachelor like myself want with this
+heap of money? I should like to know how I am to spend six or seven
+thousand a year--why, the very idea is oppressive!'
+
+'You are very good at pretence, Michael; as though I am not clever
+enough to see through that flimsy attempt at philosophy! You think it
+would be _infra dig._ to look too delighted.'
+
+'Oh, you think I am going in for a stoic?' he returned blandly.
+
+'Yes, but you are not really one; you were never cut out for a poor man,
+Michael; the _rôle_ did not suit you at all. It is a pain and a grief to
+you to travel second class, and it is only the best of everything that
+is good enough for you; and you like to put up at first-class hotels,
+and to have all the waiters and railway officials crowding round you.
+Even when we were in Scotland the gillie took you for some titled
+aristocrat, you were so lavish with your money. It is a way you have,
+Michael, to open your purse for everyone. No wonder the poor widow
+living down by the fir-plantation called you the noble English
+gentleman.'
+
+'Why, what nonsense you talk!' he replied.
+
+But all the same it pleased him to think that she had remembered these
+things. Oh, those happy days that would never come back!
+
+'And now you will be able to gratify all your tastes. You have always
+been so fond of old oak, and you can have a beautiful house, and furnish
+it just as you like; and you can buy pictures, and old china, and books.
+Why, you can have quite a famous library, and if you want our
+assistance, Gage and I will be proud to help you; and if you will only
+consult us, it will be the loveliest house you ever saw.'
+
+'What do I want with a house?' he returned a little morosely. 'I should
+think rooms would be far better for a bachelor.'
+
+'Ah, but you need not be a bachelor any longer,' she replied gaily. 'You
+have always told us that you could not afford to marry; but now you can
+have the house and wife too.' But here she stopped for a moment, for
+somehow the words sounded oddly as she said them. Michael's wife! What a
+curious idea! And would she be quite willing for Michael to marry? His
+wife must be very nice--nicer than most girls, she said to herself; and
+here she looked at him a little wistfully; but Michael did not make any
+response. He had the poker in his hand, and when she left off speaking
+he broke up a huge coal into a dozen glowing splinters.
+
+'And, then, do you remember,' she went on, 'how you used to long for a
+mail phaeton, and a pair of bay horses? "When my ship comes I will drive
+a pair!" How often you have said that to me! Will you drive me in the
+Park sometimes, Michael, until you have someone else whom you want to
+take?--for, of course, when you have a wife----'
+
+But here he interrupted her with marked impatience:
+
+'I shall never have a wife. I wish you would not talk such nonsense,
+Audrey;' and there was such bitterness in his tone that she looked quite
+frightened. But the next moment he spoke more gently. 'Do you not see,
+dear, that I am a little upset about all this money coming to me? It is
+a great responsibility, as well as a pleasure.'
+
+Then as she looked a little downcast at his rebuke, he put his hand
+lightly upon her brown hair and turned her face towards him.
+
+'Why, there are tears in your eyes, you foolish child!' he said quickly.
+'Did you really mind what I said, my dear Audrey?' in a more agitated
+tone--for, to his surprise, a large bright tear fell on his other hand.
+
+'Oh, it was not that!' she returned, in rather a choked voice. 'Please
+don't look so concerned, Michael. You know I never mind your scolding
+me.'
+
+'Then what is it?' he asked anxiously. 'What can have troubled you? Was
+it my want of sympathy with your little plans? The old oak, and the
+carvings and the books, and even the mail phaeton, may come by and by,
+when I have had time to realise my position as Croesus. Did my apathy
+vex you, Audrey?'
+
+'No; for of course I understood you, and I liked you all the better for
+not caring about things just now. It was only--you will think me very
+foolish, Michael'--and here she did look ashamed of herself--'but I
+felt, somehow, as though all this money would separate us. You will not
+go on living at Woodcote, and you will have a home of your own and other
+interests; and perhaps--don't be vexed--but if ever you do marry, I
+hope--I hope--your wife will be good to me.'
+
+'I think I can promise you that,' he returned quietly. 'Thank you, dear,
+for telling me the truth.'
+
+'Yes; but, Michael, are you not shocked at my selfishness?'
+
+'Not in the least. I understand you far better than you understand
+yourself;' and here he looked at her rather strangely as he rose.
+
+'Must you go now?'
+
+'Yes, it is quite time; I can hear wheels coming up the terrace.' And
+then he took her hands, and his old smile was on his face. 'Don't have
+any more mistaken fancies, Audrey; all the gold of the Indies would not
+separate us. If I furnish my house, I will promise you that Gage and you
+shall ransack Wardour Street with me; and when you are married, my dear,
+you shall choose what I shall give you;' and as he said this he stooped
+over her, for she was still kneeling before the fire, and kissed her
+very gently just above her eyes. It was done so quietly, almost
+solemnly, that she was not even startled. 'I don't suppose Blake would
+object to that from Cousin Michael,' he said gravely. 'Good-bye for a
+few days;' and then he was gone.
+
+'I am glad he did that,' thought Audrey; 'he has never done it before.
+As though Cyril would mind! I was so afraid I had really vexed him with
+all my foolish talking. But he looked so sad, so unlike himself, that I
+wanted to rouse him. I will not tease him any more about a possible
+wife; it seems to hurt him somehow--and yet why should he be different
+from other men? If he does not go on living here with father and mother,
+he will want some one to take care of him.' And here she fell into a
+brown study, and the work she had taken up lay in her lap. After all, it
+was she who was leaving him--when she was Cyril's wife, how could she
+look after Michael?
+
+Audrey could think of nothing else for the remainder of the day. She
+told Cyril about her cousin's good fortune when he took her out for a
+walk that afternoon. Neither of them minded the hard roads and gray
+wintry sky; when a few snowflakes pelted them they only walked on
+faster.
+
+Cyril showed a proper interest in the news.
+
+'I am delighted to hear it,' he said heartily. 'Captain Burnett is one
+of the best fellows I know, and he deserves all he has got.'
+
+And then, as it was growing dark, and they could hardly see each other's
+face, he coaxed her to go back with him to the Gray Cottage to tell
+Kester the wonderful news. Now, it so happened that Mrs. Blake and
+Mollie had gone to a neighbour's, and were not expected back for an
+hour; but Cyril begged her to stay and make tea for them: and a very
+cosy hour they spent, sitting round the fire and making all kinds of
+possible and impossible plans for their hero.
+
+But the next day Audrey's thoughts were diverted into a different
+channel, for Geraldine's boy was born, and great was the family
+rejoicing. Dr. Ross himself telegraphed to Michael. Audrey never liked
+her brother-in-law so well as on the morning when he came down to
+Woodcote to receive their congratulations.
+
+Mrs. Ross was at Hillside, and only Audrey and her father were sitting
+at breakfast. Mr. Harcourt looked pale and fagged, but there was
+marvellous content in his whole mien. The slight pomposity that had
+always jarred on Audrey had wholly vanished, and he wrung her hand with
+a warmth of feeling that did him credit.
+
+Once, indeed, she could hardly forbear a smile, when he said, with a
+touch of his old solemnity, 'Nurse says that he is the finest child that
+she has seen for a long time--and Mrs. Ross perfectly agrees with her;'
+but she commanded herself with difficulty.
+
+'I wonder if he is like you or Gage, Percival?'
+
+'It is impossible to say at present--one cannot get to see his eyes, and
+he is a little red. Mrs. Lockhart says they are all red at first. But he
+is astonishingly heavy--in fact, he is as fine a boy as you could see
+anywhere.'
+
+Audrey went on with her breakfast. It was so inexpressibly droll to see
+Percival in the character of the proud father, but Dr. Ross seemed
+perfectly to understand his son-in-law. Audrey's pleasure was a little
+damped when she found that she must not see Geraldine. She went about
+with her head in the air, calling herself an aggrieved aunt; and she
+pretended to be jealous of her mother, who had taken up her residence at
+Hillside during the first week.
+
+But when the day came for Audrey to be admitted to that quiet room, and
+she saw Geraldine looking lovelier than ever in her weakness, with a
+dark, downy head nestled against her arm, a great rush of tenderness
+filled her heart, and she felt as though she had never loved her sister
+so dearly.
+
+'Will you take him, Aunt Audrey?' and Geraldine smiled at her.
+
+'No, no! do not move him--let me see mother and son together for a
+moment. Oh, you two darlings, how comfortable you look!' but Audrey's
+tone was a trifle husky, and then she gave a little laugh: 'Actually,
+boy is a week old to-day, and this is the first time I have been allowed
+to see my nephew.'
+
+'It did seem hard,' returned Geraldine, taking her hand; 'but mother and
+nurse were such tyrants--and Percival was just as bad; we were not
+allowed to have a will of our own, were we, baby? It was such nonsense
+keeping my own sister from me, as I told them.'
+
+'Percival is very pleased with his boy, Gage;' and then a soft,
+satisfied look came into the young mother's eyes.
+
+'I think it is more to him than to most men,' she whispered. 'He is not
+young, and he did so long for a son. Do you know, mother tells me that
+he nearly cried when she put baby into his arms--at least, there were
+tears in his eyes, and he could scarcely speak when he saw me first.
+Father loves his little boy already,' she continued, addressing the
+unconscious infant, and after that Audrey did consent to take her
+nephew.
+
+'What do you mean to call him, Gage?'
+
+'Mother and I would have liked him to be called John, after father; but
+Percival wishes him so much to have his own father's name, Leonard; and
+of course he ought to have his way. You must be my boy's godmother,
+Audrey--I will have no one else; and Michael must be one
+godfather--Percival told me this morning that Mr. Bryce must be the
+other.'
+
+'I am glad you thought of Michael,' responded Audrey rather dreamily:
+baby had got one of her fingers grasped in his tiny fists, and was
+holding it tightly; and then nurse came forward and suggested that Mrs.
+Harcourt had talked enough: and, though Audrey grumbled a little, she
+was obliged to obey.
+
+Audrey took advantage of the first fine afternoon to walk over to Brail.
+It was more than three miles by the road, but she was a famous walker.
+The lanes were still impassable on account of the thaw; February had set
+in with unusual mildness: the snow had melted, the little lake at
+Woodcote was no longer a sheet of blue ice, and Eiderdown and Snowflake
+were dabbling joyously with their yellow bills in the water and their
+soft plumes tremulous with excitement.
+
+Audrey had set out early, and Cyril had promised to meet her half-way on
+her return; the days were lengthening, but he was sure the dusk would
+overtake her long before she got home.
+
+Audrey was inclined to dispute this point: she liked to be independent,
+and to regulate her own movements. But Cyril was not to be coerced.
+
+'I shall meet you, probably by the windmill,' he observed quietly. 'If
+you are not inclined for my companionship, I will promise to keep on the
+other side of the road.'
+
+And of course, after this remark, Audrey was obliged to give in; and in
+her heart she knew she should be glad of his company.
+
+She had not seen Mr. O'Brien for some weeks. During the winter her
+visits to Vineyard Cottage were always few and far between. Michael had
+driven her over a few days before Christmas, but she had not been there
+since. She had heard that Mrs. Baxter had been ailing for some weeks,
+and her conscience pricked her that she had not made an effort to see
+her. She would have plenty of news to tell them, she thought: there was
+Michael's fortune, and Gage's baby. Last time she had told them of her
+engagement, and had promised to bring Cyril with her one afternoon. She
+had tried to arrange this more than once, but Cyril had proposed that
+they should wait for the spring.
+
+Audrey enjoyed her walk, and it was still early in the afternoon when
+she unlatched the little gate and walked up the narrow path to the
+cottage. As she passed the window she could see the ruddy gleams of
+firelight, and the broad back of Mr. O'Brien as he sat in his great
+elbow-chair in front of the fire.
+
+Mrs. Baxter opened the door. She had a crimson handkerchief tied over
+her hair, and her face looked longer and paler than ever.
+
+'Why, it is never you, Miss Ross?' she cried in a subdued crescendo.
+'Whatever will father say when he knows it is you? There's a deal
+happened, Miss Ross, and I am in a shake still when I think of the turn
+he gave me only the other night. I heard the knock, and opened the door,
+as it might be to you, and when I saw who it was--at least----Why,
+father! father! what are you shoving me away for?' For Mr. O'Brien had
+come out of the parlour, and had taken his daughter rather
+unceremoniously by both shoulders, and had moved her out of his way.
+
+'You leave that to me, Priscilla,' he said in rather a peculiar voice;
+and here his great hand grasped Audrey's. 'You have done a good deed,
+Miss Ross, in coming here this afternoon, for I am glad and proud to see
+you;' and then, in a voice he tried in vain to steady: 'Susan was
+right--she always was, bless her!--and Mat has come home!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+'I COULD NOT STAND IT ANY LONGER, TOM'
+
+     'The beautiful souls of the world have an art of saintly alchemy,
+     by which bitterness is converted into kindness, the gall of human
+     experience into gentleness, ingratitude into benefits, insults into
+     pardon.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+'Mat has come home!'
+
+Audrey uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure as she heard this
+unexpected intelligence.
+
+'Is it really true? Oh, Mr. O'Brien, I am so glad--so very glad! When
+did he come? Why did you not send for me? My dear old friend, how happy
+you must be to get him back after all these years of watching and
+waiting!'
+
+A curiously sad expression crossed Mr. O'Brien's rugged face as Audrey
+spoke in her softest and most sympathetic voice.
+
+'Ay, I am not denying that it is happiness to get the lad back,' he
+returned, in a slow, ruminative fashion, as though he found it difficult
+to shape his thoughts into words; 'but it is a mixed sort of happiness,
+too. Come in and sit down, Miss Ross--Mat has gone out for a prowl, as
+he calls it--and I will tell you how it all happened while Prissy sees
+to the tea;' and as Mrs. Baxter withdrew at this very broad hint, Mr.
+O'Brien drew up one of the old-fashioned elbow-chairs to the fire, and
+then, seating himself, took up his pipe from the hob, and looked
+thoughtfully into the empty bowl. 'Things get terribly mixed in this
+world,' he continued, 'and pleasures mostly lose their flavour before
+one has a chance of enjoying them. I am thinking that the father of the
+Prodigal Son did not find it all such plain sailing after the feast was
+over, and he had time to look into things more closely. That elder
+brother would not be the pleasantest of companions for many a long day;
+he would still have a sort of grudge, like my Prissy here.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not!'
+
+'Oh, it is true, though. Human nature is human nature all the world
+over. But, there, I am teasing you with all this rigmarole; only I seem
+somehow confused, and as though I could not rightly arrange my thoughts.
+When did Mat come home? Well, it was three nights ago, and--would you
+believe it, Miss Ross?--it feels more like three weeks.'
+
+'I wish you had written to me. I would have come to you before.'
+
+'Ay, that was what Prissy said; she was always bidding me take ink and
+paper. "There's Miss Ross ought to be told, father"--she was always
+dinning it into my ears; but somehow I could not bring myself to write.
+"Where's the hurry," I said to Prissy, "when Mat is a fixture here? I
+would rather tell Miss Ross myself." And I have had my way, too'--with a
+touch of his old humour--'and here we are, talking comfortably as we
+have been used to do; and that is better than a stack of letters.'
+
+Audrey smiled. Whatever her private opinion might be, she certainly
+offered no contradiction. If she had been in his place, all her world
+should have heard of her prodigal's return, and should have been bidden
+to eat of the fatted calf; she would have called her friends and
+neighbours to rejoice with her over the lost one who had found his way
+home. Her friend's reticence secretly alarmed her. Would Vineyard
+Cottage be a happier place for its new inmate?
+
+'Yes, it is better for you and me to be talking over it quietly,' he
+went on; 'and I am glad Mat took that restless turn an hour ago. You
+see, the place is small, and he has been used to bush-life; and after he
+has sat a bit and smoked one or two pipes, he must just go out and dig
+in the garden, or take his mile or two just to stretch his muscles; but
+he will be back by the time Prissy has got the tea.'
+
+'And he came back three nights ago?' observed Audrey.
+
+'Ay. We were going upstairs, Prissy and I; the girl had been in bed for
+an hour. I was just smoking my last pipe over the kitchen fire, as I
+like to do, when we heard a knock at the door, and Prissy says to me:
+
+'"I expect that is Joshua Ruddock, father, and Jane has been taken bad,
+and they cannot get the nurse in time." For Prissy is a good soul at
+helping any of her neighbours, and sometimes one or other of them will
+send for her to sit up with a sick wife or child. And then she goes to
+the door, while I knock the ashes out of my pipe. But the next moment
+she gave a sort of screech, and I made up my mind that it was that
+rascal Joe asking for a night's lodging--not that he would ever have
+slept under my roof again. I confess I swore to myself a bit softly when
+I heard Prissy fly out like that.
+
+'"Father," she says again, "here is a vagrant sort of man, and he says
+he is Uncle Mat."
+
+'"And she won't believe me, Tom; so you had better come and look at me
+yourself;" and, sure enough, I knew the lad's voice before I got a sight
+of his face.
+
+'I give you my word, Miss Ross,' he continued, somewhat huskily, 'I
+hardly know how I got to the door, for my limbs seemed to have no power.
+
+'"Do you think I don't know your voice, lad?" I said; and, though it was
+dark, I got hold of him and pulled him into the light.
+
+'We were both of us white and shaking as we stood there, but he looked
+me in the face with a pitiful sort of smile.
+
+'"I could not stand it any longer, Tom," he said; "I suppose it was
+home-sickness; but it would have killed me in time. I have not got a
+creature in the world belonging to me. Will you and Susan take me in?"
+And then, with a laugh, though there were tears in his eyes: "I am
+precious tired of the husks, old chap."
+
+'Well, I did not seem to have my answer ready; for I was fairly choked
+at the sight of his changed face, and those poor, pitiable words. But he
+did not misunderstand me, and when I took his arm and pushed him into a
+chair by the fire, he looked round the place in a dazed kind of way.
+
+'"Where's Susan?" he asked. "I hope she is not sick, Tom." And with that
+he did break me down; for the thought of how Susan would have welcomed
+him--not standing aloof as Prissy was doing--and how she would have
+heartened us up, in her cheery way, was too much for me, and I fairly
+cried like a child.
+
+'Well, I knew it was my lad--in spite of his gray hairs--when he cried,
+too--just for company. Mat had always a kind heart and way with him.
+
+'"I never thought of this, Tom," he said, when we were a bit better.
+"All to-day Susan's face has been before me bonnie and smiling, as I
+last saw it. Prissy there is not much like her mother. And so she is in
+her coffin, poor lass! Well, you are better off than me, Tom, for you
+have got Prissy there to look after you, and I have neither wife nor
+children."
+
+'"Do you mean they are gone?" I asked, staring at him; and he nodded in
+a grim, sorrowful kind of way.
+
+'"I have lost them all. There, we won't talk about that just yet. What
+is it Susan used to say when the children died? 'The Lord gave, and the
+Lord hath taken away.' Those are pious words, Tom." And then he looked
+at me a bit strangely.
+
+'Well, it was Prissy who interrupted us, by asking if Mat wanted food.
+And then it turned out that he was 'most starving.
+
+'"I think I was born to ill-luck, Tom," he went on; "for some scamp or
+other robbed me of my little savings as soon as I reached London, and I
+had to make shift to pay my fare down here. It is a long story to tell
+how I found you out. I went to the old place first, and they sent me on
+here. I had a drop of beer and a crust at the Three Loaves, and old
+Giles, the ostler, knew me and told me a long yarn about you and
+Prissy."
+
+'And then we would not let him talk any more. And when he was fed and
+warmed Prissy made up a bed for him, for we saw he was nearly worn out,
+and there was plenty of time for hearing all he had to tell us.
+
+'But I could not help going into his room before I turned in, for there
+came over me such a longing to see Mat's face again--though it was not
+the old face. And I knew my bright, handsome lad would never come back.
+Well, he was not asleep, for he turned on his pillow when he saw me.
+
+'"If one could only have one's life again!" he said--and there was a
+catch in his voice. "I could not sleep for thinking of it. I have shamed
+you, Tom, and I have shamed all that belonged to me; and many and many a
+time I have longed to die and end it all, but something would not let
+me. I was always a precious coward. Why, I tried to shoot myself once;
+but I could not do it, I bungled so. That was when things were at the
+worst; but I never tried again, so don't look so scared, old chap!"
+
+'Well, it was terrible to hear him talk like that, of throwing his life
+away, and I said a word or two to show what I thought of it; but he
+would not listen.
+
+'"Don't preach, Tom: you were always such a hand at preaching; but I
+will tell you something you may care to hear. It was when I was out in
+the bush. I had been down with a sort of fever, and had got precious
+low. Well, it came over me one day as I was alone in the hut, that, if
+that sort of life went on, I should just lose my reason; for the
+loneliness, and the thought of the prison life, and all the evil I had
+done, and the way I had thrown aside my chances, seemed crowding in upon
+my mind, and I felt I must just blow my brains out, and I knew I should
+do it this time; and then all at once the thought came to me: 'Why not
+go to Tom? Tom and Susan are good sort; they won't refuse a helping hand
+to a poor wretch;' and the very next day I packed up my traps and
+started for Melbourne."
+
+'"My lad," I said, "it was just Providence that put that thought in your
+head;" and then I left him, for my heart was too full to talk, except to
+my Maker. But I dreamt that night that Susan came to me, and that we
+stood together by Mat's bedside looking down at him while he slept.
+
+'"He looks old and gray," I heard her say quite distinctly; "but he will
+grow young again beside my Tom." And then she looked at me so gently and
+sighed: "Be patient with him; he is very unhappy," and then I woke.'
+
+'Oh, I hope you told him that dream!'
+
+'Ay, I did. I told him a power of things about Susan and myself and
+Prissy, and he never seemed tired of listening; but after that first
+evening he did not open out much of his own accord. He told us a few
+things, mostly about his bush-life, and where he went when he got his
+ticket-of-leave; but somehow he seemed to dislike talking about himself,
+and after I had questioned him pretty closely, he suddenly said:
+
+'"Look here, old chap: I don't mean to be rough on you, but I have grown
+used to holding my tongue during the last few years. What is the use of
+raking up bygones? Do you suppose I am so proud of my past life that I
+care to talk about it? Why can we not start afresh? You know me for what
+I am, the good-for-nothing Mat O'Brien. I know I am no fit companion for
+you and Prissy; and if you tell me to go, I will shift my quarters
+without a reproachful word. Shall I go, Tom?"
+
+'"No," I said, almost shouting at him, and snapping my pipe in two; "you
+will just stay where you are, lad. Do you think I will ever suffer you
+to wander off again?" And then, as he looked at me very sadly, I opened
+the big Bible we had been reading in that morning, and showed him the
+verse that was in my thoughts that moment: "The Lord do so to me, and
+more also, if aught but death part me and thee."
+
+'"Do you mean that, Tom?" and his voice was rather choky.
+
+'"Ay, I do," was my answer. And then he gripped my hand without
+speaking, and went out of the room, and we did not see him for an hour
+or two. And that is about all I have to tell you, Miss Ross.'
+
+'Thank you, old friend,' returned Audrey gently.
+
+And she looked reverently into the thoughtful face beside her. The
+rugged, homely features were beautified to her. He was only a small
+tradesman, yet what nobleman could show more tender chivalry to the
+fallen man who had brought disgrace on his honest name? In her heart
+Audrey knew there was no truer gentleman than this simple, kindly Tom
+O'Brien.
+
+'There's Mat,' he observed presently; and Audrey roused herself and
+looked anxiously at the door.
+
+She was longing, yet dreading, to see this much-loved prodigal.
+Priscilla's description of 'a vagrant sort of man' had somewhat alarmed
+her, and she feared to see the furtive look and slouching gait that so
+often stamp the man who has taken long strides on the downward path.
+
+She was greatly surprised, therefore, when a tall, fine-looking man,
+with closely-cropped gray hair and a black moustache, came quickly into
+the room. On seeing a young lady he was about to withdraw; but his
+brother stopped him.
+
+'Don't go away, lad. This is Miss Ross, the young lady who I told you
+was with Susan when she died.'
+
+'And I am very glad to welcome you back, Mr. O'Brien,' observed Audrey
+cordially, as she held out her hand.
+
+Mat O'Brien reddened slightly as he took the offered hand with some
+reluctance, and then stood aside rather awkwardly. He only muttered
+something in reply to his brother's question of how far he had walked.
+
+'I think I will go to Priscilla,' he said, with a touch of sullenness
+that was mere shyness and discomfort. 'Don't let me interrupt you and
+this young lady, Tom.' And before Mr. O'Brien could utter a
+remonstrance, he was gone.
+
+'I am afraid I am in the way,' suggested Audrey. 'Perhaps your brother
+does not like to see people. It is growing dark, so I may as well start
+at once. Mr. Blake has promised to meet me, so I shall not have a
+solitary walk.'
+
+'Nay, you must not go without your cup of tea,' returned the old man,
+rubbing up his hair in a vexed manner; 'I hear Prissy clattering with
+the cups. Don't fash your head about the lad; he is a bit shamed of
+looking honest folk in the face; but we'll get him over that. Sit you
+down, and I will fetch him out of the kitchen.' And without heeding her
+entreaties to be allowed to go, Mr. O'Brien hurried her into the next
+room, where the usual bountiful meal was already spread, and where Mrs.
+Baxter awaited them with an injured expression of face.
+
+'I think father has gone clean daft over Uncle Mat,' she observed, as
+Mr. O'Brien departed on his quest. 'Draw up to the table, Miss Ross.
+Father will be back directly; but he won't touch a mouthful until he
+sees Uncle Mat in his usual place; he fashes after him from morning to
+night, and can hardly bear him out of his sight. It is "Mat, come here,
+alongside of me," or "Try this dish of Prissy's, my lad," until you
+would think there was not another person in the house. It is a bit
+trying, Miss Ross, I must confess; though I won't fly in the face of
+Providence, and say I am not glad that the sinner has come home. But
+there, one must have one's trials; and Heaven knows I have had a
+plentiful share of thorns and briars in my time!'
+
+'I am sorry to hear you speak like this, Mrs. Baxter. I was hoping that
+you would rejoice in Mr. O'Brien's happiness. Think how he has longed
+for years to see his brother's face again!'
+
+Mrs. Baxter shook her head mournfully.
+
+'Ay, Miss Ross; but the best of us are poor ignorant creatures, and,
+maybe, the blessings we long for will turn to a curse in the end. I
+doubt whether our little cottage will be the restful place it was before
+Uncle Mat came home. He has gone to a bad school to learn manners; and
+wild oats and tares and the husks that the swine did eat are poor crops,
+after all, Miss Ross,' finished Priscilla a little vaguely.
+
+Audrey bent over her plate to conceal a smile; but she was spared the
+necessity of answering, as just then the two men entered.
+
+It was the first meal that Audrey had failed to enjoy at Vineyard
+Cottage; and notwithstanding all her efforts to second Mr. O'Brien's
+attempt at cheerfulness, she felt that she failed most signally. Neither
+of them could induce Mat O'Brien to enter into conversation; his gloomy
+silence or brief monosyllabic replies compelled even his brother at last
+to desist from any such attempt.
+
+Now and then Audrey stole a furtive glance at him as he sat moodily
+looking out into the twilight. The handsome lad was still a
+good-looking man; but the deep-seated melancholy in the dark eyes
+oppressed Audrey almost painfully: there was a hopelessness in their
+expression that filled her with pity.
+
+Why had he let that one failure, that sad lapse from honesty, stamp his
+old life with shame? Had he not expiated his sin? Why was he so beaten
+down and crushed with remorse and suffering that he had only longed to
+end an existence that seemed God-forsaken and utterly useless? And then,
+half unconsciously, she noted the one serious defect in his face--the
+weak, receding chin; and she guessed that the mouth hidden under the
+heavy moustache was weak too.
+
+'I will not ask you what you think of Mat to-night,' observed Mr.
+O'Brien, as he accompanied Audrey to the gate; 'he has not been used to
+a lady's company, and he has grown into silent ways, living so much
+alone.'
+
+'He looks terribly unhappy.'
+
+'Ay, poor chap, he is unhappy enough; he has got a load on his heart
+that he is carrying alone. Sometimes it makes my heart ache, Miss Ross,
+to see him sitting there, staring into the fire, and fetching up a sigh
+now and then. But there, as Susan says, "The heart knoweth its own
+bitterness"; but if ever a man is in trouble, Mat is that man.'
+
+And Audrey felt that her old friend was right.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+'WILL YOU CALL THE GUARD?'
+
+     'Plead guilty at man's bar, and go to judgment straight;
+     At God's no other way remains to shun that fate.'
+
+                                          ARCHBISHOP TRENCH.
+
+
+Captain Burnett had settled his business, and was returning again to
+Rutherford after more than a month's absence. He would willingly have
+lingered in town longer. Lonely as his bachelor quarters were, he felt
+he was safer in them than in his cosy rooms under his cousin's roof,
+where every hour of the day exposed him to some new trial, and where the
+part he played was daily becoming more difficult. In town he could at
+least be free; he had no need to mask his wretchedness, or to pretend
+that he was happy and at ease. No demands, trying to meet, were made on
+his sympathy; no innocently loving looks claimed a response. At least,
+the bare walls could tell no tales, if he sat for long hours brooding
+over a future that looked grim and desolate.
+
+And he was a rich man. Heavens! what mockery! And yet how his friends
+would have crowded round him if they had known it! Comfort--nay, even
+luxury--was within his power; he could travel, build, add acre to acre;
+he could indulge in philanthropic schemes, ride any hobby. And yet,
+though he knew this, the thought of his gold seemed bitter as the apples
+of Sodom.
+
+It had come too late. Ah, that was the sting--his poverty had been the
+gulf between him and happiness, and he had not dared to stretch his hand
+across it to the woman he loved; and now, when his opportunity had gone
+and he had lost her irrevocably, Fate had showered these golden gifts
+upon him, as though to bribe him as one bribes children with some gilded
+toy.
+
+Was it a wonder that, as he sat trying to shape that dreary future of
+his, his heart was sore within him, and that now and again the thought
+crossed him that it might have been well for him if his battered body
+could have been laid to rest with those other brave fellows in Zululand?
+And then he remembered how Kester had once told him that he must be the
+happiest man in the world. He had never quite forgotten that boyish
+outburst.
+
+'Don't you see the difference?' he could hear him say. 'I have got this
+pain to bear, and no good comes of it; it is just bearing, and nothing
+else. But you have suffered in saving other men's lives; it is a kind of
+ransom. It must be happiness to have a memory like that!'
+
+Was he suffering for nothing now? Would any good to himself or others
+come from a pain so exquisite, so rife with torture--a pain so strongly
+impregnated with fear and doubt that he scarcely dared own it to
+himself? Only now and again those few bitter words would escape his
+lips:
+
+'Oh, my darling, what a mistake! Will you ever find it out before it is
+too late?' And then, with a groan, he would answer, as though to
+himself: 'Never! never!'
+
+Old habits are strong, and it was certainly absence of mind that made
+Captain Burnett take his usual third-class ticket; and he had seated
+himself and dismissed his porter before he bethought himself that the
+first-class compartment was now within his means.
+
+Audrey had told him laughingly that such creature comforts were dear to
+him--that he was a man who loved the best of things, to whom the loaves
+and fishes of bare maintenance were not enough without adding to them
+the fine linen and dainty appendages of luxury; and he had not
+contradicted her. But, all the same, he knew that he would have been
+willing to live in poverty until his life's end if he could only have
+kept her beside him.
+
+Happily, the third-class compartment was empty, and he threw himself
+back in the farthest corner, and, taking out his Baedeker, began to plan
+what he called his summer's campaign--a tour he was projecting through
+Holland and Belgium, and which was to land him finally in the Austrian
+Tyrol. He would work his way later to Rome and Florence and Venice, and
+he would keep Norway for the following year; and he would travel about
+in the desultory, dilettante sort of fashion that suited him best now.
+He would probably go to America, and see Niagara and all the wonders of
+the New World, that was so young and fresh in its immensity. Indeed, he
+would go anywhere and everywhere, until his trouble became a thing of
+the past, and he had strength to live and work for the good of his
+fellow-creatures; but he felt that such work was not possible to him
+just yet.
+
+Michael studied his Baedeker in a steady business-like way. He had made
+up his mind that to brood over an irreparable misfortune was unworthy of
+any man who acknowledged himself a Christian--that any such indulgence
+would weaken his moral character and make him unfit for his duties in
+life. The sorrow was there, but there was no need to be ever staring it
+in the face; as far as was possible, he would put it from him, and do
+the best for himself and others.
+
+Michael's stubborn tenacity of purpose brought its own reward, for he
+was soon so absorbed in mapping out his route that he was quite startled
+at hearing the porters shouting 'Warnborough!' and the next moment the
+door was flung open, and a shabbily-dressed man, with the gait and
+bearing of a soldier, entered the compartment, and, taking the opposite
+corner to Michael, unfolded his paper and began to read.
+
+Michael glanced at him carelessly. He was rather a good-looking man, he
+thought, with his closely-cropped gray hair and black moustache; but his
+scrutiny proceeded no further, for just then he caught sight of a
+familiar face and figure on the platform that made him shrink back into
+his corner, and wish that he, too, had a newspaper, behind which he
+could hide himself.
+
+There was no mistaking that slim, graceful figure and the little, close
+black bonnet. There was something about Mrs. Blake which he would have
+recognised a quarter of a mile off. By Jove! she was coming towards his
+compartment. Her hands were full of parcels, and she was asking a
+gray-headed old gentleman to open the door for her--how handsome and
+bright and alert she looked, as she smiled her acknowledgment! The old
+gentleman looked back once or twice--even old fogeys have eyes for a
+pretty woman--but Mrs. Blake was too busy arranging her parcels in the
+rack to notice the impression she had made.
+
+If only he had had that newspaper he might have pretended that he was
+asleep; but when the parcels were in their place she would see him.
+There was nothing for him but to take the initiative.
+
+'Let me put that up for you, Mrs. Blake;' and at the sound of his voice
+she turned round.
+
+In a moment he knew that she was not pleased to see him--that if she had
+discovered that he was there, nothing would have induced her to enter
+the compartment. It was his extraordinary quickness of intuition that
+made him know this, and the sudden shade that crossed her face when he
+addressed her. Underneath Mrs. Blake's smooth speeches and charm of
+manner he had always been conscious of some indefinable antagonism to
+himself; as he had once told Geraldine, there was no love lost between
+them. 'In a ladylike way, she certainly hates me,' he had said.
+
+'Dear me, Captain Burnett, how you startled me! I thought there were
+only strangers in the carriage. Thank you; that parcel is rather heavy.
+I have been shopping in Warnborough and am terribly laden; I hope Cyril
+will meet me--if the omnibus be not at the station, I must certainly
+take a fly. I had no idea you were coming back until to-morrow. Kester
+certainly said to-morrow. How delighted he will be, dear boy, when I
+tell him I have seen you!'
+
+'The christening will be to-morrow, you know, and I have to stand
+sponsor to my small cousin.'
+
+'Ah, to be sure! How stupid of me to forget! and yet Mollie told me all
+about it. It is very soon--baby is only a month old, is he not? But I
+hear Mrs. Harcourt is not to be allowed to go to the church.'
+
+'No; so Audrey tells me.'
+
+'I think that a pity. When my children were christened I was always with
+them. To be sure, both Kester and Mollie were two months old at least.
+What is your opinion, Captain Burnett--you are a strict Churchman, I
+know--ought not the mother to be there as a matter of course?'
+
+Mrs. Blake spoke in a soft voice, with her usual engaging air of
+frankness, but Michael's answer was decidedly stiff. Of all things he
+hated to be entrapped into a theological argument, but he would not
+compromise truth.
+
+'I think there is one thing even more desirable than the mother's
+presence,' he returned quickly, 'and that is that these little heathens
+be made Christians as soon as possible; and I think Harcourt is
+perfectly right to have his son baptized without exposing his wife to
+any risk.'
+
+'And she is still so delicate, as dear Audrey tells me. She was up at
+Hillside last evening, and Cyril fetched her. My boy is a most devoted
+lover, Captain Burnett.'
+
+'Cela va sans dire,' returned Michael lightly--he may be forgiven for
+regarding this speech in the worst possible taste--and then he stopped,
+attracted by a singular action on the part of their fellow-passenger.
+
+He had put down his paper, and was leaning forward a little in his seat,
+and staring intently into Mrs. Blake's face.
+
+'Good God, it is Olive!' he muttered. 'As I live, it is Olive herself!'
+and then he threw out both his hands in a strange, appealing sort of
+way, and his face was very pale. 'Olive,' he went on, and there was
+something strained and pitiful in his voice, as though pleading with
+her; 'how am I to sit and hear you talk about the little chaps and take
+no notice? How am I to mind my promise and not speak to my own wife?'
+
+Michael gave a violent start, but he had no time to speak, for Mrs.
+Blake suddenly clutched his arm with a stifled scream; she looked so
+ghastly, so beside herself with terror, that he could not help pitying
+her.
+
+'Captain Burnett,' she gasped, 'will you stop the train? I will not
+travel any longer with this madman. I shall die if I am in this carriage
+a moment longer. Don't you see he is mad? Will you call the guard?
+I--I----' She sank down, unable to articulate another syllable.
+
+Captain Burnett hardly knew how to act. They would reach the station for
+Rutherford in another quarter of an hour. He knew the man opposite him
+was no more mad than he was--there was no insanity in those deep-set,
+melancholy eyes, only intense pain and sadness. The very sound of his
+voice brought instant conviction to Michael's mind that he was speaking
+the truth. Whatever mystery lay beneath his words, he and Mrs. Blake
+were not strangers to each other--her very terror told him that.
+
+'Mrs. Blake,' he said, endeavouring to soothe her, 'there is nothing to
+fear. Do try to be reasonable. No one could molest you while you are
+under my protection. Perhaps this gentleman,' with a quick glance at the
+man's agitated face and shabby coat, 'may have made some mistake. You
+may resemble some friend of his.'
+
+'No fear of that,' interposed the man sullenly, and now there was an
+angry gleam in his eyes that alarmed Michael; 'a man can't mistake his
+own wife, even if he has not seen her for fifteen or sixteen years. I
+will take my oath before any court of justice that that is my lawful
+wedded wife, Olive O'Brien.'
+
+Mrs. Blake uttered another faint scream, and covered her face with her
+hands. She was shaking as though in an ague fit.
+
+'I assure you, you must have made some mistake,' replied Michael
+civilly; 'this lady's name is Blake: she and her family are well known
+to me. If you like, I will give you my card, if you should wish to
+satisfy yourself by making further inquiries; but, as you must see, it
+is only a case of mistaken identity.'
+
+If Michael spoke with the intent of eliciting further facts, he was not
+wholly unsuccessful.
+
+'It is nothing of the kind,' returned the man roughly; 'don't I tell you
+it is no mistake. I can't help what she calls herself. If she has taken
+another husband, I'll have the law of her and bring her to shame; she
+has only one husband and his name is Matthew O'Brien.'
+
+'Good heavens! do you mean that Thomas O'Brien, of Vineyard Cottage, is
+your brother?' And as Michael put this question he felt the plot was
+thickening.
+
+'Yes. Tom, poor old chap! is my brother; but he knows nought about Olive
+and the young ones. He thinks they are dead. I told him I had lost them
+all. Has she not been talking about them--Cyril and Kester and my little
+Mollie!' And here there were tears in Matthew O'Brien's eyes.
+
+'Hush!' interposed Michael; 'don't say any more. Don't you see she has
+fainted? Will you move away a moment, that she may not see you? Open the
+window; make a thorough draught.'
+
+Michael was doing all that he could for Mrs. Blake's comfort. He
+loosened her bonnet-strings and made his rug into a pillow, and, taking
+out his brandy flask, moistened her white lips. However she had sinned,
+he felt vaguely, as he knelt beside her, that hers would be a terrible
+expiation. Mat O'Brien stood a little behind, talking half to himself
+and half to Michael.
+
+'Ah, he is a handy chap,' he soliloquised; 'he must have a wife of his
+own, I'm thinking. Poor lass! she does look mortal bad. I have frighted
+her pretty nearly to death, but it is her own fault. I never would have
+hurt a hair of her head. She is as handsome as ever, and as
+hard-hearted, too. I used to tell her she was made of stone--not a bit
+of love, except for the children. She is coming to, sir,' he continued
+excitedly; 'I was half afraid she was dead, lying so still.'
+
+'Yes, she is recovering consciousness,' replied Michael quietly; 'but
+it is rather a serious fainting fit, and I must ask you to leave her to
+me, Mr. O'Brien. There is my card. I shall be at Rutherford, and will
+try to see you to-morrow--no, not to-morrow, there is the
+christening--but the next day. I will come over to Vineyard Cottage;
+there, we are stopping. Please send a porter to me.' And then Michael
+turned again to his patient.
+
+She had opened her eyes and was looking at him as though she were dazed.
+'Where am I? what has happened? why are you giving me brandy, Captain
+Burnett?'
+
+'You have been ill,' he returned coolly; 'are you subject to these
+fainting fits? I want you to try and stand, and then I will help you to
+my fly. Porter, will you take those parcels, please. Now, Mrs. Blake, do
+you think you can walk?'
+
+'I will try,' she replied in an exhausted voice, but just at that moment
+Mat O'Brien passed. 'Oh, I remember,' she gasped; 'the madman! It was he
+who frightened me so, Captain Burnett,' looking at him with a return of
+the old terror in her face and a sort of wildness in her eyes. 'You did
+not believe that improbable story? How can I, a widow, have a living
+husband?' And she laughed hysterically.
+
+'Will you permit me to assist you?' was Michael's sole answer, as he
+lifted her from the seat; 'can you fasten your bonnet? I was obliged to
+give you air.' But as her trembling hands could not perform the office,
+he was compelled to do it himself. 'Now you can come,' he went on in a
+quiet, authoritative voice, that was not without its effect on her, and
+half leading, half supporting her, he placed her at last safely in the
+fly. But as he seated himself beside her, and they drove off, in the
+gathering dusk of the March evening, he felt a cold hand grip his wrist.
+
+'Oh, Captain Burnett, do say that you did not believe him!'
+
+Michael was silent.
+
+'It was too utterly horrible, too improbable altogether!' she continued
+with a shudder; 'no man calling himself a gentleman ought to believe
+such an accusation against a woman.'
+
+Still silence.
+
+'If it should reach my boy's ear, he will be ready to kill him.'
+
+'Mrs. Blake, will you listen to me a moment, for your children's sake. I
+desire to stand your friend.'
+
+'And not for my sake--not for the sake of a lonely, misjudged woman?'
+
+'No,' he returned coldly; 'I will confess the truth: it is the best. In
+our hearts we are not friends, you and I. From the first I have
+mistrusted you. I have always felt there was something I could not
+understand. Friends do not have these feelings; but, all the same, I
+wish to help you.'
+
+'Oh, that is kind; and now I do not mind your hard words.'
+
+'But I must help you in my own way. To-morrow I shall come to you, and
+you must tell me the whole truth, and whether this man Matthew O'Brien
+be your husband or not.'
+
+'I tell you--' she began excitedly, but he checked her very gently.
+
+'Hush! Do not speak now; you will make yourself ill again.'
+
+'Oh yes,' she said, falling back on her seat. 'I have palpitations
+still. I must not excite myself.'
+
+'Just so; and to-morrow you will be calmer and more collected, and you
+will have made up your mind that the truth will be best because----' he
+paused, as though not certain how to proceed.
+
+'Because of what?' she asked sharply; and he could detect strained
+anxiety in her tone.
+
+'Because it will be better for you to tell your story in your own way,
+far better than for me to hear it from Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'You would go to him?' and there was unmistakable alarm in her voice.
+
+'Most certainly I would go to him. This is a very important matter to
+others as well as yourself, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'I will kill myself,' she said wildly, 'before I tell any such story!
+You have no heart, Captain Burnett; you are treating me with refined
+cruelty; you want to bring me to shame because you hate me, and
+because----'
+
+But again he checked her:
+
+'Do not exhaust yourself with making all these speeches; you will need
+all your strength. I will come to you to-morrow evening, and if you will
+tell me the truth I will promise to help you as far as possible. Surely
+at such a crisis you will not refuse such help as I may be able to offer
+you, if only----' he paused, and there was deep feeling in his voice,
+'for your children's sake.'
+
+But though he could hear her sob as though in extremity of anguish, she
+made him no answer, nor could he induce her to speak again until they
+reached the Gray Cottage, where the fly stopped, and he got out and
+assisted her to alight. She kept her face averted from him.
+
+'I will be with you to-morrow,' he repeated, as he touched her hand.
+
+But to this there was no audible reply; she only bowed her head as she
+passed through the gate he held open for her, and disappeared from his
+sight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+'I DID NOT LOVE HIM'
+
+     'When a man begins to do wrong, he cannot answer for himself how
+     far he may be carried on. He does not see beforehand; he cannot
+     know where he will find himself after the sin is committed. One
+     false step forces him to another.'--NEWMAN.
+
+     'An Italian proverb, too well known, declares that if you would
+     succeed you must not be too good.'--EMERSON.
+
+
+Audrey found Michael strangely uncommunicative that evening; he hardly
+responded to her expressions of pleasure at seeing him again, and all
+her questions were answered as briefly as possible. His manner was as
+kind as ever; indeed, he spoke to her with more than his usual
+gentleness; but during dinner he seemed to find conversation difficult,
+and all her little jokes fell flat. She wanted to know how many pretty
+things he had bought, and if he had put down his name for the proof
+engraving of a certain picture he had longed to possess.
+
+'Twenty guineas is nothing to you now, Michael,' she observed playfully.
+
+'No, I forgot all about the picture,' he returned, starting up from his
+chair; 'but I have brought you a present.'
+
+And the next moment he put in her hand a little case. When Audrey opened
+it, there was a small cross studded with diamonds of great beauty and
+lustre, and the whole effect was so sparkling and dainty that Audrey
+quite flushed with surprise and pleasure.
+
+'Oh, mother, look how beautiful! But, Michael, how dare you waste your
+money on me; this must have cost a fortune!' And then she added a little
+thoughtfully, 'I am afraid Cyril will be sorry when he sees this; he is
+always lamenting that he cannot give me things.'
+
+'I chose a bracelet for Geraldine,' he returned carelessly, as though
+buying diamonds were an everyday business with him. 'Would you like to
+see it?' and he showed her the contents of the other case. 'I have a
+small offering for my godson in the shape of the inevitable mug, and I
+mean to give this to Leonard's mamma.'
+
+'It is very handsome; mother thinks so: don't you, mother? and Gage is
+devoted to bracelets; but I like mine ever so much better; it is the
+very perfection of a cross, and I shall value it, ah, so dearly,
+Michael!' and Audrey held out her hand as she spoke.
+
+Michael pressed it silently. It was little wonder, he thought, that
+Audrey liked her gift better than Geraldine's; it had cost at least
+three times as much; in fact, its value had been so great that he had
+written the cheque with some slight feeling of shame and compunction.
+'There is no harm, after all, and she is so fond of diamonds,' he
+assured himself, as he put the little case in his pocket; 'she will not
+know what it cost me, and he will never be able to buy ornaments for
+her--I may as well give myself this pleasure;' and just for the moment
+it did please him to see her delight over the ornament.
+
+'It is not so much the diamonds that please me, as Michael's kindness
+and generosity,' she said to Cyril the next day. 'He has bought nothing
+for himself, and yet he has been in town a whole month; he only thought
+of us.'
+
+And Cyril observed quietly, as he closed the case, that it was certainly
+very kind of Captain Burnett; but a close observer would have said that
+Michael's generosity had not quite pleased him.
+
+'I suppose you will wear this to-night at the Charringtons'?' he asked
+presently.
+
+'Yes; and those lovely flowers you have brought me,' she added, with one
+of her charming smiles; and somehow the cloud passed in a moment from
+the young man's brow.
+
+What did it matter, after all, that he could not give her diamonds? Had
+he not given himself to her, and did they not belong to each other for
+time and for eternity? And as he thought this he took her in his arms
+with a loving speech.
+
+'You are sweet as the very sweetest of my flowers,' he said, holding her
+close to him. 'You are the very dearest thing in the world to me,
+Audrey; and sometimes, when I think of the future, I am almost beside
+myself with happiness.'
+
+When the little excitement of the diamonds was over, Michael relapsed
+again into gravity, and he was still grave when he went up to Hillside
+the next day. A wakeful night's reflection had brought him no comfort;
+he felt as though a gulf were opening before him and those whom he
+loved, and that he dared not, for very dread and giddiness, look into
+it.
+
+When they returned from church, and were about to sit down to the
+sumptuous luncheon, he took Geraldine aside and presented his offerings.
+To his surprise, she was quite overcome, and would have called her
+husband to share her pleasure; but he begged her to say nothing just
+then.
+
+'Audrey has a present, too, but she took it far more calmly,' he said,
+in a rallying tone. But as he spoke he wondered at his cousin's beauty.
+Her complexion had always been very transparent, but now excitement had
+added a soft bloom. Was it motherhood, he asked himself, that deepened
+the expression of her eyes and lent her that new gentleness? 'I never
+saw you look better, Gage,' he said, in quite an admiring voice; but
+Geraldine was as unconscious as ever.
+
+'I am very well,' she returned, smiling, 'only not quite as strong as
+usual. It is such a pity that Percival would not allow me to invite you
+to dinner, because he says that I ought to be quiet this evening. He and
+mother make such a fuss over me. Percival means to take baby and me for
+a change during the Easter holidays. That will be nice, will it not? I
+think we shall go to Bournemouth.'
+
+'Very nice,' he returned absently.
+
+'I wish Audrey would go too, but I am afraid she will not leave Cyril;
+he is not going away this vacation. That is the worst of a sister being
+engaged, she is not half so useful.'
+
+'I think Audrey would go with you if you asked her; she is very
+unselfish.'
+
+'Yes; but she has to think about someone else now, and I do not wish to
+be hard on Cyril. He is very nice, and we all like him.'
+
+'I am very glad to hear that, Gage.'
+
+'Yes; we must just make the best of it. Of course, Percival and I will
+always consider she is throwing herself away; but that cannot be helped
+now. By the bye, Michael, this is the first time I have seen you since
+you came into your fortune. I have never been able to tell you how
+delighted we both were to hear of it.'
+
+'Well, it was a pretty good haul.'
+
+'Yes; but no one will do more with it. But you must not buy any more
+diamonds;' and then she smiled on him. And just then Master Leonard made
+his appearance in his long lace robe, and, as Geraldine moved to take
+her boy in her arms, there was no further conversation between them.
+
+They left soon after luncheon. Mr. Bryce had to take an early afternoon
+train, and Dr. Ross accompanied him to the station. Audrey drove home
+with her mother; they expected Michael to follow them, but he had other
+business on hand. There was his interview with Mrs. Blake, and on
+leaving Hillside he went straight to the Gray Cottage.
+
+Mollie met him at the door. She looked disturbed and anxious.
+
+'Yes; you are to go up to the drawing-room, Captain Burnett,' she said,
+when he asked if Mrs. Blake were at home. 'Mamma is there. I heard her
+tell Biddy so. Do you know'--puckering up her face as though she were
+ready to cry--'mamma will not speak to any of us--not even to Cyril! She
+says she is ill, and that only Biddy understands her. It is so odd that
+she is able to see a visitor.'
+
+'What makes you think she is ill, Mollie?'
+
+'Oh, because she looked so dreadful when she came home last night; she
+could hardly walk upstairs, and Cyril was not there to help her. He was
+quite frightened when I told him, and went to her room at once; but her
+door was locked, and she said her head ached so that she could not talk.
+Biddy was with her then; we could hear her voice distinctly, and mamma
+seemed moaning so.'
+
+'Has she seen your brother this morning?'
+
+'Yes, just for a minute; but the room was darkened, and he could not see
+her properly. She told him that the pain had got on the nerves, and that
+she really could not bear us near her. But she would not let him send
+for a doctor, and Biddy seemed to agree with her.'
+
+'Perhaps she will be better to-morrow,' he suggested; and then he left
+Mollie and went upstairs. 'Poor little girl!' he said to himself; 'I
+wonder what she would say if she knew her father were living!'
+
+And then he tapped at the drawing-room door. He was not quite sure
+whether anyone bade him enter. Mrs. Blake was sitting in a chair drawn
+close to the fire; her back was towards him. She did not move or turn
+her head as he walked towards her, and when he put out his hand to her
+she took no notice of it.
+
+'You have come,' she said, in a quick, hard voice. And then she turned
+away from him and looked into the fire.
+
+'Yes, I have come,' he replied quietly, as he sat down on the oak settle
+that was drawn up near her chair. 'I am sorry to see you look so ill,
+Mrs. Blake.'
+
+He might well say so. She had aged ten years since the previous night.
+Her face was quite drawn and haggard--he had never before noticed that
+there were threads of gray in her dark hair--she had always looked so
+marvellously young; but now he could see the lines and the crows'-feet;
+and as his sharp eyes detected all this he felt very sorry for her.
+
+'Ill; of course I'm ill,' she answered irritably. 'All night long I have
+been wishing I were dead. I said yesterday that I would rather kill
+myself than tell you my story; but to-day I have thought better of it.'
+
+'I am glad of that.'
+
+'Of course I am not a fool, and I know I am in your power--yours and
+that man's.' And here she shivered.
+
+'Will you tell me this one thing first? Is he--is Matthew O'Brien your
+husband?'
+
+'Yes; I suppose so. I was certainly married to him once.'
+
+'Then, why, in the name of heaven, Mrs. Blake, do you allow people to
+consider you a widow?'
+
+'Because I am a widow,' she returned harshly. 'Because I have unmarried
+myself and given up my husband. Because I refused to have anything more
+to do with him--he brought me disgrace, and I hated him for it.'
+
+'But, pardon me, it is not possible--no woman can unmarry herself in
+this fashion--unless you mean----'
+
+And here he stopped, feeling it impossible to put any such question to
+her. But what on earth could she mean?
+
+'No, I have not divorced him. I suppose, in one sense, he may still be
+regarded as my husband; but for fourteen years he has been dead to me,
+and I have called myself a widow.'
+
+'But you must have known it was wrong,' he returned, a little bewildered
+by these extraordinary statements. If she had not looked so wan and
+haggard, he would have accused her of talking wildly.
+
+'No, Captain Burnett; I do not own it was wrong. Under some
+circumstances a woman is bound to defend herself and her children--a
+tigress will brave a loaded gun if her young are starving. If it were
+to come over again, I would do the same. But I will acknowledge to you
+that I did not love my husband.'
+
+'No; that is evident.'
+
+'I never loved him, though I was foolish enough to marry him. I suppose
+I cared for him in a sort of way. He was handsome, and had soft,
+pleasant ways with him; and I was young and giddy, and ready for any
+excitement. But I had not been his wife three months before I would have
+given worlds to have undone my marriage.'
+
+'Was he a bad husband to you?'
+
+'No. Mat was always too soft for unkindness; but he was not the man for
+me. Besides, I had married him out of pique--there was someone I liked
+much better. You see, I am telling you all quite frankly. I am in your
+power, as I said before. If I refused to speak, you would just go to
+Mat, and he would tell you everything.'
+
+'I am very much relieved to find you so reasonable, Mrs. Blake. It is
+certainly wiser and better to tell me yourself. You have my promise
+that, as far as possible, I will give you my help; but at present I do
+not know how this may be.'
+
+'Yes; I will tell you my story,' she answered. But there was a
+bitterness of antagonism in her tone as she said this. 'I have always
+been afraid of you, Captain Burnett; I felt you disliked and mistrusted
+me, and I have never been easy with you. If it were not for Kester, and
+your kindness to him, I should be horribly afraid of you. But for
+Kester's sake you would not be hard on his mother.'
+
+'I would not be hard on any woman,' he answered quietly. 'It is true I
+have mistrusted you. I told you so yesterday. But if you will confide in
+me, you shall not repent your confidence.'
+
+'You mean you will not be my enemy.'
+
+'I am no woman's enemy,' he said a little proudly. 'I wish someone else
+had been in my place yesterday; you can understand it is not a pleasant
+business to ask these questions of a lady; but there are many interests
+involved, and I am like a son to Dr. Ross. I am bound to look into this
+matter more closely for his sake, and----' he paused, and, if possible,
+Mrs. Blake turned a little pale.
+
+'Let me tell you quickly,' she said. 'Perhaps, after all, you will not
+blame me, and you will help me to keep it from Cyril.' And here she
+looked at him imploringly, and he could see the muscles of her face
+quivering. 'No, I never loved Mat. I felt it was a condescension on my
+part to marry him. My people were well connected. One of my uncles was a
+dean, and another was a barrister. My father was a clergyman.'
+
+'What was his name?'
+
+'Stephen Carrick. He was Vicar of Bardley.'
+
+'I have heard of Dean Carrick; he wrote some book or other, and came
+into some notoriety before his death. Is it possible that you are his
+niece?'
+
+'Yes. I was very proud of him, and of my other uncle; but they would
+have nothing to do with me after my marriage. We were living in Ireland
+then, and when Mat brought me to London I seemed to have cut myself
+adrift from all my people. My father died not long afterwards, and my
+mother followed him, and my two brothers were at sea. I saw the name of
+Carrick in the papers one day--James Carrick--he was in the navy; so it
+must have been Jem. Well, he is dead, and, as far as I know, Charlie may
+be dead too.'
+
+She spoke with a degree of hardness that astonished him, but he would
+not interrupt her by a question. He saw that, for some reason of her
+own, she was willing to tell her story.
+
+'I soon found out my mistake when Mat brought me to London. From the
+first we were unfortunate; we had neither of us any experience. Our
+first landlady cheated us, and our lodgings were far too expensive for
+our means--my money had not then come to me. At my mother's death I was
+more independent.
+
+'I might have grown fonder of Mat but for one thing. Very shortly after
+our marriage--indeed, before the honeymoon was over--I discovered that
+he had already stooped to deceit. He had always led me to imagine that
+his people were well-to-do, and that his parentage was as respectable as
+mine; indeed, I understood that his only brother was a merchant, with
+considerable means at his disposal. I do not say Mat told me all this in
+words, but he had a way with him of implying things.
+
+'I was very proud--ridiculously proud, if you will--and I had a horror
+of trade. You may judge, then, the shock it was to me when I found out
+by the merest accident--from reading a fragment of a letter--that this
+brother was a corn-chandler in a small retail way.
+
+'We had our first quarrel then. Mat was very cowed and miserable when he
+saw how I took it; he wanted to coax me into forgiving his deceit.
+
+'"I knew what a proud little creature you were, Olive," he said, trying
+to extenuate his shabby conduct, "and that there was no chance of your
+listening to me if you found out Tom was a tradesman. What does it
+matter about the shop? Tom is as good a chap as ever breathed, and Susan
+is the best-hearted woman in the world." But I would not be conciliated.
+
+'I would not go near his people, and when he mentioned their names I
+always turned a deaf ear. It is a bad thing when a woman learns to
+despise her husband; but from that day I took Mat's true measure, and my
+heart seemed to harden against him. Perhaps I did not go the right way
+to improve him or keep him straight, but I soon found out that I dared
+not rely on him.
+
+'I think I should have left him before the year was out, only my baby
+was born and took all my thoughts; and Mat was so good to me, that for
+very shame I dare not hint at such a thing. But we were not happy. His
+very fondness made things worse, for he was always reproaching me for my
+coldness.
+
+'"You are the worst wife that a man could have," he would say to me.
+"You would not care if I were brought home dead any day, and yet if the
+boy's finger aches you want to send for the doctor. If I go to the bad,
+it will be your own fault, because you never have a kind look or word
+for me."
+
+'But he might as well have spoken to the wind. There was no love for Mat
+in my heart, and I worshipped my boy.'
+
+'You are speaking now of your eldest son?'
+
+'Yes; of Cyril. He was my first-born, and I doted on him. I had two
+other children before Kester came; but, happily, they died--I say
+happily, for I had hard work to make ends meet with three children. I
+was so wrapped up in my boy that I neglected Mat more and more; and when
+he took to going out of an evening I made no complaints. We were getting
+on better then, and I seldom quarrelled with him, unless he refused to
+give me money for the children. Perhaps he was afraid to cross me, for
+the money was generally forthcoming when I asked for it; but I never
+took the trouble to find out how he procured it. And he was only too
+pleased to find me good-tempered and ready to talk to him, or to bring
+Cyril to play with him; for he was fond of the boy, too. Well, things
+went on tolerably smoothly until Mollie was born; but she was only a few
+months old when the crash came.'
+
+She stopped, and an angry darkness came over her face.
+
+'You need not tell me,' returned Michael, anxious to spare her as much
+as possible. 'I am aware of the forgery for which your husband incurred
+penal servitude for so many years.'
+
+'You know that!' she exclaimed, with a terrified stare. 'Who could have
+told you? Oh, I forgot Mat's brother at Brail! Why did I never guess
+that Audrey's old friend she so often mentioned was this Tom O'Brien?
+But there are other O'Briens--there was one at Richmond when we lived
+there--and I thought he was still in his shop.'
+
+'We heard all the leading facts from him; he told Audrey everything.'
+
+'Then you shall hear my part now,' she returned, with flashing eyes.
+'What do you suppose were my feelings when I heard the news that Mat was
+in prison, and that my boy's father was a convicted felon? What do you
+imagine were my thoughts when I sat in my lodgings, with my children
+round me, knowing that this heritage of shame was on them?'
+
+'It was very bad for you,' he whispered softly, for her tragical aspect
+impressed him with a sense of grandeur. She was not good: by her own
+account she had been an unloving wife; but in her way she had been
+strong--only her strength had been for evil.
+
+'Yes, it was bad. I think for days I was almost crazed by my
+misfortunes; and then Mat sent for me. He was penitent, and wanted my
+forgiveness, so they told me.'
+
+'And you went?'
+
+'Of course I went. I had a word to say to him that needed an answer, and
+I was thankful for the opportunity to speak it. I dressed myself at
+once, and went to the prison. Cyril cried to come with me, and slapped
+me with his little hands when I refused to take him; but I only
+smothered him with kisses. I remember how he struggled to get free, and
+how indignant he was. "I don't love you one bit to-day, mamma! you are
+not my pretty mamma at all." But I only laughed at his childish pet--my
+bright, beautiful boy!--I can see him now.
+
+'Mat looked utterly miserable; but his wretchedness did not seem to
+touch me. The sin was his, and he must expiate it; it was I and my
+children who were the innocent sufferers. He began cursing himself for
+his mad folly, as he called it, and begged me over and over again to
+forgive him. I listened to him for a few minutes, and then I looked at
+him very steadily.
+
+'"I will forgive you, Mat, and not say a hard word to you, if you will
+promise me one thing."
+
+'"And what is that?" he asked, seeming as though he dreaded my answer.
+
+'"That you will never try to see me or my children again."'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+'SHALL YOU TELL HIM TO-NIGHT?'
+
+     'Wouldst thou do harm, and still unharmed thyself abide?
+     None struck another yet, except through his own side.
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     From our ill-ordered hearts we oft are fain to roam,
+     As men go forth who find unquietness at home.'
+
+                                                TRENCH.
+
+
+Michael raised his eyes and looked attentively at the woman before him;
+but she did not seem to notice him--she was too much absorbed in her
+miserable recital.
+
+'I had made up my mind to say this to him from the moment I heard he was
+in prison--he should have nothing more to do with me and the children.
+It was for their sake I said it.
+
+'He shrank back as though I had stabbed him, and then he began
+reproaching me in the old way: "I had never loved him; from the first I
+had helped to ruin him by my coldness; he was the most wretched man on
+earth, for his own wife had deserted him;" but after a time I stopped
+him.
+
+'"It is too late to say all this now, Mat; you are quite right--I never
+loved you. I was mad to marry you; we have never been suited to each
+other."
+
+'"But I was fond of you. I was always fond of you, Olive."
+
+'But I answered him sternly:
+
+'"Then prove your affection, Mat, by setting me free. Let me go my way
+and you go yours, for as truly as I stand here I will never live with
+you again."
+
+'"But what will you do?" he asked; "oh, Olive, do not be so cruelly
+hard! There is Tom; he will take you and the children, and care for you
+all."
+
+'But at the mention of his brother I lost all control over myself. Oh, I
+know I said some hard things then--I am not defending myself--and he
+begged me at last very piteously not to excite myself, and he would
+never mention Tom again; only he must know what I meant to do with
+myself and the children while he was working out his sentence.
+
+'"Then I will tell you," I replied; "for at least you have a right to
+know that, although from this day I will never acknowledge you as my
+husband. I will not go near your beggarly relations; but I have a little
+money of my own, as you know, though you have never been able to touch
+it. I will manage to keep the children on that."
+
+'Well, we talked--at least I talked--and at last I got him to promise
+that he would never molest me or the children again. Mat was always
+weak, and I managed to frighten him. I threatened to make away with
+myself and the children sooner than have this shame brought home to
+them, not that I meant it; but I was in one of my passionate moods, when
+anything seemed possible.
+
+'I told him what I meant to do, for I had planned it all in my head
+already. I would sell out all my money and change my investments, so
+that all clue should be lost; and I would take another name, and after a
+time the children should be told their father was dead. I would give
+myself out to be a widow, and in this way no disgrace would ever touch
+them. Would you believe it? Mat was so broken and penitent that he began
+to think that, after all, this would be best--that it would be kinder to
+me and the children to cut himself adrift from us.
+
+'I saw him again, and he gave me his promise. "You are a clever woman,
+Olive," he said; "you will do better for the youngsters than ever I
+could have done. I have brought disgrace on everyone belonging to me. If
+you would only have trusted to Tom!--but you will go your own gait. I
+dare not cross you; I never have dared, lest evil should come of it; but
+I think no woman ever had a colder heart."
+
+'"You have killed it, Mat," was my answer; and then I said good-bye to
+him, and we parted.
+
+'Well, I took Biddy into my confidence; she was a faithful creature, and
+had been devoted to me since my childhood. She had accompanied me to
+England on my marriage, and had been my one comfort before the children
+were born. Strange to say, she had always disliked Mat, and if I had
+only listened to her, his wooing would have been unsuccessful.
+
+'I found a lawyer who would do my business, and then I took a lodging at
+Richmond and called myself Mrs. Blake, and for a few years we lived
+quietly and comfortably.'
+
+'The investments had prospered, one especially was yielding a handsome
+dividend, so I was better off than I expected. I had got rid of some
+house property, and I put aside this money for my boy's education. I
+need not tell you that he was my one thought. Sometimes, when I saw him
+growing so fast, and looking so noble and handsome, my heart would quite
+swell with pride and happiness to think he was my son; and I forgot Mat
+and the past wretchedness, and only lived in and for him. My other
+children were nothing to me compared to him.'
+
+'And you heard nothing of your husband?'
+
+'I tell you I had no husband; he was dead to me. Do you think I would
+allow a man like Mat to blight my boy's career--a poor creature, weak as
+water, and never able to keep straight; a man who could be cowed into
+giving up his own wife and children? I would have died a hundred times
+over before I would have let Cyril know that his father was a convict.'
+
+Michael held his peace, but he shuddered slightly as he thought of
+Audrey. 'They will make her give him up,' he said to himself.
+
+'Yes, I was happy then,' she went on. 'I always had an elastic
+temperament. I did not mind the poverty and shifts as long as Cyril was
+well and contented. I used to glory in giving up one little comfort
+after another, and stinting myself that he might have the books he
+needed when he was at Oxford. I used to live on his letters, and the day
+when he came home was a red-letter day.'
+
+'And you never trembled at the idea that one day you might come face to
+face with your husband?'
+
+'Oh no; such a thought never crossed my mind. I knew Mat too well to
+fear that he would hunt me out and make a scene. Another man would, in
+his place, but not Mat: he had always been afraid of me, and he dared
+not try it on. It was accident--mere accident--that made him cross my
+path yesterday. But I know I can manage him still, and you--you will not
+betray me, Captain Burnett?'
+
+'I do not understand you,' he returned, almost unable to believe his
+ears. Could she really think that he would make himself a party to her
+duplicity?
+
+'I think my meaning is sufficiently clear,' she replied, as though
+impatient at his denseness. 'Now you have heard my story, you cannot
+blame me; under the circumstances, you must own that my conduct was
+perfectly justifiable.'
+
+'I am not your judge, Mrs. Blake,' he answered quietly; 'but in my
+opinion nothing could justify such an act of deception. None of us have
+any right to say, "Evil, be thou my good." When you deceived the world
+and your own children, by wearing widow's weeds, when all the time you
+knew you had a living husband, you were distinctly living a lie.'
+
+'And I glory in that lie!' she answered passionately.
+
+'Do not--do not!' he returned with some emotion; 'for it will bring you
+bitter sorrow. Do you think the son for whom you have sacrificed your
+integrity will thank you for it----' But before he could finish his
+sentence a low cry, almost of agony, stopped him. Ah, he had touched her
+there.
+
+'You will kill me,' she gasped, 'if you only hint at such a thing!
+Captain Burnett, I will say I am sorry--I will say anything--if you will
+only help me to keep this thing from my boy. Will you go to Mat? Will
+you ask him, for all our sakes, to go away? He is not a bad man. When he
+hears about Cyril's prospects he will not spoil them by coming here and
+making a scene. I will see him if he likes--but I think it would be
+better not. Tell him if he wants money he shall have it: there is a sum
+I can lay my hands on, and Cyril will never know.'
+
+'You want me to bribe your husband to go away?'
+
+'Yes. You have promised to help me; and this is the only way.'
+
+'Pardon me! There are limits to anything--an honest man cannot soil his
+hands with any such acts of deception. When I said I would help you, it
+was real help I meant--for good, and not for evil. I will not attempt to
+bribe your husband; neither will I stand by and see you blindfold your
+son.'
+
+Then she threw herself on her knees before him, with a faint cry for
+mercy. But he put her back in her seat, and then took her hands in his
+and held them firmly.
+
+'Hush! you must not do that. I will be as kind to you as I can. Do you
+think that my heart is not full of pity for you, in spite of your
+wrong-doing? Try to be reasonable and listen to me. I have only one
+piece of advice to give you. Tell your son everything, as you have told
+me.'
+
+'Never, never! I would die first.'
+
+'You do not know what you are saying,' he returned soothingly. 'Do you
+think a son is likely to judge his own mother harshly? If I can find it
+in my heart to pity you, will your own flesh and blood be more hard than
+a stranger?'
+
+'Oh, you do not know Cyril!' she replied with a shudder. 'He is so
+perfectly truthful. I have heard him say once that nothing can justify a
+deception. In spite of his goodness, he can be hard--very hard. When
+Kester was a little boy, he once, told a lie to shield Mollie, and Cyril
+would not speak to him for days.'
+
+'I do not say that he will not be shocked at first, and that you may not
+have to bear his displeasure. But it will be better--a hundred times
+better--for him to hear it from your own lips.'
+
+'He will never hear it,' she returned; and now she was weeping wildly.
+'The story will never be told by me. How could I bear to hear him tell
+me that I had ruined him--that his prospects were blasted? Oh, have
+mercy upon a miserable woman, Captain Burnett! For the sake of my
+boy--for Kester's and Mollie's sake--help me to send Mat away!'
+
+He made no answer, only looked at her with the same steady gentleness.
+That look, so calm, yet so inexorable, left her no vestige of hope. A
+rock would have yielded sooner than Michael Burnett, and she knew it.
+
+'I was wrong to trust you,' she sobbed. 'You are a hard man--I always
+knew that; you will stand by and see us all ruined, and my boy breaking
+his heart with shame and misery, and you will not stretch out your hand
+to save us.'
+
+But he let this pass. Her very despair was making her reckless of her
+words.
+
+'Mrs. Blake,' he said quietly, 'will you tell your son that he has a
+father living?'
+
+'No; I will not tell him!'
+
+Then Michael got up from his chair as though the interview were at an
+end. His movement seemed to alarm Mrs. Blake excessively.
+
+'You are not going? Do you mean that you are actually leaving me in this
+misery? Captain Burnett, I would not have believed you could be so
+cruel!'
+
+'There is no use in my staying. I cannot convince you that your best
+hope for the future is to throw yourself on your son's generosity. I
+regret that you will not listen to me--you are giving me a very painful
+task.'
+
+Then she started up and caught him by the arm.
+
+'Do you mean that you will tell him?'
+
+'I suppose so--somebody must do it; but I would rather cut off my right
+hand than do it.'
+
+'Shall you tell him to-night?'
+
+'No, certainly not to-night.'
+
+'To-morrow?'
+
+'Yes, to-morrow or the next day; but I must speak to Mr. O'Brien and Dr.
+Ross first.'
+
+Then she left him without saying another word; but it went to his heart
+to see her cowering over the fire in her old miserable attitude.
+
+'Mrs. Blake,' he said, following her, 'if you think better of this, will
+you write to me? Two or three words will be enough: "I will tell him
+myself" just that----' but she made no reply. 'I shall wait in the hope
+that I may receive such a note; a few hours' delay will not matter, and
+perhaps a little consideration may induce you to be brave. Remember,
+there is no wrong-doing except that of heinous and deadly sin that we
+may not strive to set right. It needs courage to confess to a
+fellow-creature, but love should give you this courage.'
+
+But still she did not move or speak, and he was forced to leave her. He
+found Biddy hovering about the dark passage, and he guessed at once that
+she had been a listener. A moment's consideration induced him to take
+the old woman by the shoulder and draw her into an empty room close by.
+
+She looked somewhat scared at his action. She had a candle in her hand,
+and he could see how furtively her wild, hawk-like eyes glanced at him.
+
+'Biddy, I know you are your mistress's trusted friend--that she confides
+in you.'
+
+'Ay.'
+
+'Use every argument in your power, then, to induce her to tell her son
+about his father.'
+
+'I dare not, sir; she would fly into one of her mad passions and strike
+me.'
+
+'Good heavens!'
+
+'I have work enough with her sometimes; she has always had her tantrums
+from a child; but I'm used to them, and I know how to humour her. She
+will never tell Mr. Cyril; I know them both too well for that.'
+
+'You heard all I said, Biddy. You need not deny it. You have been
+listening at the door.'
+
+'It is not me who would deny it,' she returned boldly; but there was a
+flush on her withered cheek. 'There is nothing that my mistress could
+say that she would wish to keep from me. I have been with her all her
+life. As a baby she slept in my bosom, and I loved her as my own child.
+Ah, it was an ill day for Miss Olive when she took up with that
+good-for-nothing Matthew O'Brien; bad luck to him and his!'
+
+'Nevertheless, he is her husband, Biddy.'
+
+'I don't know about that, sir. I was never married myself, and fourteen
+years is a long absence. Aren't they more her children than his, when
+she has slaved and sacrificed herself for them? You meant it well, sir,
+what you said to the mistress; but I take the liberty of differing from
+you, and I would sooner bite my tongue out than speak the word that will
+bring them all to shame.'
+
+'Then I must not look to you for help?'
+
+'I am afraid not, sir. I am on my mistress's side.'
+
+'You are an obstinate old woman, Biddy, and I looked for better sense at
+your age.'
+
+Nevertheless, he shook her by the hand very kindly, and then she lighted
+him downstairs.
+
+Mollie came out of the dining-room and looked at him wistfully.
+
+'Is mamma better now, Captain Burnett?'
+
+'Well, no, I am afraid not: but I think you need not trouble. Biddy will
+look after her.'
+
+'Biddy is dreadfully mysterious, and will hardly let any of us speak to
+mamma; but I think it is my place, not Biddy's, to wait on her. She has
+no right to tell me to go downstairs, and to treat me like a child. I am
+fifteen.'
+
+'Yes; indeed, you are growing quite a woman, Mollie.'
+
+And Michael looked very kindly at Audrey's _protégée_. He and Mollie
+were great friends.
+
+'Cyril came in some time ago. He had to dress for the party, you know,
+and Biddy would not let him go into the drawing-room and interrupt you;
+she was mounting guard all the time. Cyril was quite cross at last, and
+asked me what on earth was the matter, and why you and mamma were having
+a private interview; but of course I could not tell him.'
+
+'I suppose not, my dear.'
+
+'He says he shall ask mamma to-morrow, and that he shall bring Miss Ross
+to see her, because he is sure she is ill. Will you come in and see
+Kester, Captain Burnett?--he is busy with his Greek.'
+
+But Michael declined; it was late, and he must hurry home and dress for
+dinner.
+
+He had forgotten all about the Charringtons' dinner-party and dance, and
+he was a little startled, as he entered the hall, to see Audrey standing
+before the fire talking to Cyril. Both of them were in evening dress.
+
+Audrey looked very pretty; she wore a white silk dress. He had seen her
+in it once before, and he had thought then how wonderfully well it
+became her; and the sparkling cross rested against her soft throat.
+Cyril's roses, with their pale pinky tint, gave her just the colour that
+was needed, and her eyes were very bright; and perhaps her lover's
+praise had brought that lovely glow to her face.
+
+'You will be late, Michael; the dressing-bell sounded an age ago, and
+father is in the drawing-room. What have you been doing with yourself
+all these hours?'
+
+'I had forgotten you were going out,' he returned, parrying her
+question. 'How nice you look, Audrey! I thought white silk was bridal
+finery. Cinderella turned into a princess was nothing to you.'
+
+'I feel like a princess with my roses and diamonds;' but she looked at
+Cyril, not at Michael, as she spoke. Cyril was standing beside her with
+one arm against the carved mantelpiece; he was looking handsomer than
+ever. Just then there was the sound of carriage-wheels, and he took up
+the furred cloak that lay on the settee beside him, and put it gently
+round her shoulders.
+
+'You must not take cold,' Michael heard him say. There was nothing in
+the words, but the glance that accompanied this simple remark spoke
+volumes. Michael drew a deep heavy sigh as he went upstairs. 'Poor
+fellow! how he worships her!' he thought;' what will be the end of this
+tangle?' And then he dressed himself hastily and took his place at the
+table to eat his dinner with what appetite he might, while Mrs. Ross
+discoursed to him placidly on the baby's beauty and on dear Geraldine's
+merits as a mother and hostess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+'I MUST THINK OF MY CHILD, MIKE'
+
+     'Ah! the problem of grief and evil is, and will be always, the
+     greatest enigma of being, only second to the existence of being
+     itself.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+Michael listened in a sort of dream. He was telling himself all the time
+that his opportunity was come, and that it was incumbent on him not to
+sleep another night under his cousin's roof until he had made known to
+him this grievous thing.
+
+As soon as they rose from the table, and Dr. Ross was preparing as usual
+to follow his wife into the drawing-room until the prayer-bell summoned
+him into the schoolroom, Michael said, a little more seriously than
+usual:
+
+'Dr. Ross, would you mind giving me half an hour in the study after
+prayers? I want your advice about something;' for he wished to secure
+this quiet time before Audrey returned from her party.
+
+The Doctor was an observant man, in spite of his occasional absence of
+mind, and he saw at once that something was amiss.
+
+'Shall you be able to do without us this evening, Emmie?' he said, with
+his usual old-fashioned politeness, that his wife and daughters thought
+the very model of perfection: 'it is too bad to leave you alone when
+Audrey is not here to keep you company.'
+
+But Mrs. Ross assured him that she would not in the least mind such
+solitude; she was reading the third volume of an exciting novel, and
+would not be sorry to finish it. And as soon as this was settled and the
+coffee served, the gong sounded, and they all adjourned to the
+schoolroom.
+
+Michael never missed this function, as he called it. He liked to sit in
+his corner and watch the rows of boyish faces before him, and try to
+imagine what their future would be; and, above all things, he loved to
+hear the fresh young voices uniting in their evening hymn; but on this
+evening he regarded them with some degree of sadness.
+
+'They have the best of it,' he thought rather moodily; 'they little know
+what is before them, poor fellows! and the hard rubs fate has in store
+for them.' And then, as they filed past him and one little fellow smiled
+at him, he drew him aside and put him between his knees.
+
+'You look very happy, Willie. I suppose you have not been caned
+to-day?'--a favourite joke of the Captain's.
+
+'No, sir,' returned Willie proudly; 'but Jefferson minor fought me, and
+I licked him. You may ask the other fellows, and they would tell you it
+was all fair. He is a head taller than me, and I licked him,' finished
+Willie, with an air of immense satisfaction on his chubby baby face.
+
+'Ah, you licked him, did you?' returned Michael absently; 'and Jefferson
+minor is beaten. I hope you shook hands afterwards; fair fight and no
+malice, Willie. There's a shilling for you because you did not show the
+white feather in the face of the enemy. You will be at the head of a
+brigade yet, my boy.' For all Dr. Ross's lads were bitten with the
+military fever, and from Willie Sayers to broad-shouldered Jeff Davidson
+each boy nourished a secret passion and desire to follow the Captain's
+footsteps, and were ready to be hewed and slashed into small pieces if
+only the Victoria Cross might be their reward.
+
+As soon as the curly-haired champion had left him, Michael followed his
+cousin into the study. Dr. Ross had already lighted his lamp, and roused
+his fire into a cheerful blaze.
+
+'What is it, Mike? you look bothered,' he asked, as Michael drew up his
+chair. 'Nothing wrong with the money, I hope?'
+
+'What should be wrong about it?' returned Michael rather disdainfully;
+'it is about as safe as the Bank of England. No; it is something very
+different--a matter that I may say concerns us all. I heard something
+the other day rather uncomfortable about the Blakes.'
+
+'Nothing discreditable, I hope?' returned the Doctor quickly.
+
+'I am afraid I must answer "Yes" to that question; but, at least, I can
+assure you that there is nothing against Blake.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross looked relieved.
+
+'Whatever blame there is attaches solely to the mother.'
+
+'Humph! With all her good looks, I never quite liked the woman,'
+ejaculated Dr. Ross _sotto voce_. Nevertheless, he had always been
+extremely pleasant with her; but perhaps a man finds it difficult to be
+otherwise with a pretty woman.
+
+'I have unfortunately found out--but perhaps I ought to say fortunately
+for us--that Mrs. Blake is not a widow: her husband is living.'
+
+'Good heavens!'
+
+'Neither is her name Blake; she changed it at the time she discarded her
+husband. I am afraid you must prepare yourself for a shock, Dr. Ross,
+for the whole thing is distinctly reprehensible.'
+
+'And you mean to tell me,' returned the Doctor, with an anxious
+blackness gathering on his brow, 'that Cyril--that my future son-in-law
+is cognisant of this fact?'
+
+'No, no!' replied Michael eagerly; 'you are doing him injustice. Blake
+is as ignorant of the thing as you are yourself; he has no more to do
+with it than you or I. Did I not tell you that the sole blame rests with
+his mother?'
+
+Then the Doctor, in spite of his Christianity, pronounced a malediction
+against the Blake womankind.
+
+'She is just the sort to get into mischief,' he continued; 'there is a
+dangerous look in her eyes. Go on, Michael; don't keep me in suspense.
+There is something disgraceful behind all this. What reason has any
+woman to allege for giving up her husband?'
+
+'Her excuse is that he brought shame and dishonour on her and on his
+children, and that she would have nothing more to do with him. He had
+committed a forgery, and had been condemned to penal servitude for seven
+years.'
+
+Then the Doctor said 'Good heavens!' again. At certain moments of
+existence it is not possible to be original--when the roof is falling on
+one's head, for example, or a deadly avalanche is threatening. But
+Michael needed no answer; he only wished to finish his story as quickly
+as possible.
+
+'You know Audrey's friend, Thomas O'Brien?'
+
+'To be sure I do. He is a retired corn-chandler. I went to his shop
+once, in Peterborough.'
+
+'And you have probably heard of his brother Mat?'
+
+Then Dr. Ross gazed at him with a face of despair. His misfortunes were
+accumulating; he had a sense of nightmare and oppression. Surely this
+hideous thing could not be true! no such disgrace could threaten him and
+his! If an earthquake had opened in the Woodcote grounds, he could not
+have looked more horrified.
+
+'Do you mean to tell me, Mike, that this Mat O'Brien is Cyril's father?'
+
+Then Michael gave him a detailed and carefully-worded account of his
+interview with Mrs. Blake.
+
+'Then it is true--quite true?' in a hopeless tone.
+
+'There cannot be a doubt of it; I had it from her own lips. To-morrow I
+must see O'Brien himself, and hear his side. I cannot help saying that I
+am sorry for the woman, in spite of her falseness; she is utterly
+crushed with her misery.' But it may be doubted if Dr. Ross heard this:
+he was occupied with his own reflections.
+
+'This will break Audrey's heart; she is devoted to the fellow.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not; she has more strength than other girls.'
+
+'Of course I cannot allow this affair to go on: I must see Blake, and
+tell him so at once.'
+
+'There is no hurry, is there? I think you should let me speak to O'Brien
+first.'
+
+'Well, if you wish it; but I confess I do not see the necessity.'
+
+'And I hope you will be gentle with Blake: remember that not a vestige
+of blame attaches to him; it is simply his misfortune that he is the son
+of such parents. I expect he will be utterly broken-hearted.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross gave vent to an impatient groan. No man had a softer heart
+than he, and he had liked Cyril from the first.
+
+'I must think of my child, Mike,' he said at last.
+
+'Yes, you must think of her; but you must be merciful to him, too. Think
+what he will suffer when he knows this; and he is as innocent as a
+babe! I suppose'--and then he hesitated, and looked at his cousin--'that
+there will be no way of hushing up things, and letting the engagement go
+on?'
+
+Then the Doctor nearly sprang out of his chair.
+
+'Are you out of your senses, Michael, to put such a question to me? Is
+it likely that any man in my position would allow his family to be
+allied to a convicted criminal? Would any amount of hushing up render
+such an alliance tolerable?'
+
+'Well, I suppose not.'
+
+'I have never cared much for conventionality, or for the mere show of
+things; but I suppose that, in some sense, the good opinion of my
+fellow-men is necessary for my comfort. When Blake came to me, and told
+me that he had not a shilling in the world beside his earnings as my
+classical master, I did not let his poverty stand in the way. I told him
+that, as my girl's happiness was involved, I could not find it in my
+heart to withhold my consent.
+
+'"You are certainly not in the position in which I should wish to see my
+son-in-law," I said to him; "but I will speak to Charrington, and see
+what is to be done."
+
+'Well, I have spoken, and Charrington only promised the other day that
+he would push him on. I have no doubt at all that, with my interest and
+standing in the place, Cyril would have had a house in time, and
+Audrey's position would have been equal to her sister's.'
+
+'And you mean to say that all this is at an end?'
+
+'Of course it is at an end!' almost shouted the Doctor; 'and Cyril's
+career is practically at an end, too. Do you suppose any public school
+in England would employ a master whose relatives are so disreputable
+that he is obliged to make use of an assumed name? When I refuse to
+allow him to marry my daughter, I must give him his _congé_ at the same
+time.'
+
+'Then in that case he is a ruined man;' and to this Dr. Ross gave a
+sorrowful assent.
+
+'How am I to help myself or him, Mike? I will do all in my power to
+soften the weight of this blow to him; but when all is at an end between
+him and Audrey, how am I to keep him in Rutherford? The thing would he
+impossible. He would not wish it himself. He is very proud and
+high-spirited by nature, and such a position would be intolerable to
+him. No, he must go; but if money will help him, he may command me to
+any reasonable amount.'
+
+'He will not take your money;' and then he added 'Poor beggar!' under
+his breath.
+
+'You will stand by me, Mike?'
+
+'Most certainly I will; but I mean to befriend Blake, too, as far as he
+will let me.'
+
+'I should not think he would refuse your sympathy; a man needs someone
+at such a time. But when I spoke I was thinking of my girl. You have
+great influence with her, Michael; sometimes I think no brother's
+influence could be stronger. How would it be if she were to hear the
+news first from you?'
+
+Then Michael recoiled as though someone had struck him in the face.
+
+'Impossible! I could not tell her. I would rather be shot!' he returned
+vehemently.
+
+'Well, it is not a pleasant business, and I suppose I must do it myself;
+only the idea crossed my mind that perhaps it might come better from
+you. I shall not be able to refrain from indignation; I am apt to get a
+little warm sometimes.'
+
+But Michael firmly negatived this notion.
+
+'It will go hard with her, whoever tells it,' he said decidedly.
+'Nothing can soften such a blow, and it is far better for her to hear it
+from her father. You see,' he continued rather sadly, 'it will be a fair
+division, for I have to break it to poor Blake; and I shall have tough
+work with him, for he worships the ground she walks on.'
+
+'Ay, poor fellow! I know he does. What a cruel affair it is, Mike! That
+woman's deceit will go far to spoil two lives.'
+
+But to this Michael would not agree. He said, with a great deal of
+feeling, that Audrey was not the girl to let any love-affair spoil her
+life; she thought too little of herself, was too considerate and
+unselfish, to allow any private unhappiness to get too strong a hold
+over her, and so spoil other people's lives.
+
+'You will see what sort of stuff she has in her,' he said, with the
+enthusiasm of a lover who can find no flaw at all. 'She will bear her
+sorrow bravely, and not allow it to interfere with others. She is far
+too good and noble. You need not fear for her; she has strength enough
+for a dozen women.'
+
+And Dr. Ross felt himself a little comforted by such words.
+
+'Do you mind waiting up for her to-night?' he asked presently.
+'Unfortunately, Emmie has sent all the servants to bed, because I said I
+had some writing to do. I feel very upset about all this, and she will
+find out from my manner that something is amiss. Would it bother you,
+Mike? She will just come in here and warm herself; but if you tell her
+you are tired, she will not detain you.'
+
+'I can have no objection to do that,' replied Michael, trying to hide
+his reluctance; and, indeed, Dr. Ross looked so pale and jaded, that
+Audrey's suspicions would have been excited. 'Go to bed and get a good
+night's rest; it is nearly twelve now, and they meant to be home by
+one.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross allowed himself to be persuaded.
+
+'I don't know about the good night's rest,' he replied; 'but I should be
+glad to think over the whole thing quietly before I see either of them.
+There is no hurry, as you say, and perhaps you had better get your
+interview over with O'Brien.'
+
+'Shall you tell Cousin Emmeline?'
+
+'Tell Emmie!' and here the Doctor's voice was somewhat irritable, as one
+disagreeable detail opened after another. 'Not to-night, certainly. Why,
+she will be asleep. No, it would never do to tell her before Audrey; it
+would get round to Geraldine, and there would be the deuce of a row.
+Tell the child I was tired, and bid her good-night.'
+
+And then Dr. Ross shook Michael's hand with fervour and took himself
+off.
+
+Michael spent a dreary hour by himself in the study. It was a relief to
+him when he heard the carriage-wheels, but as he opened the door he was
+quite dazzled at the scene before him. It was a brilliant moonlight
+night, and the terrace and wide lawn were bathed in the pure white
+light. A crisp frost had touched the grass and silvered each blade, and
+the effect against the dark background of trees and shrubs was intensely
+beautiful.
+
+And the moonlight shone full on Audrey's upturned face, as she stood
+talking to her lover, and the silken folds of her dress and her soft
+furred cloak and hood looked almost of unearthly whiteness. In Michael's
+bewildered eyes she seemed invested at the present moment with some new
+and regal beauty; but her light musical laugh dispelled the illusion.
+
+'Why, Michael, what has become of father?'
+
+'He was tired, and went off to bed more than an hour ago. I hope you do
+not object to his deputy. I suppose you are not coming in, Blake, as it
+is so late?'
+
+'Of course he is not,' returned Audrey in a tone that allowed of no
+appeal. 'He has early work to-morrow, and must get as much rest as he
+can. Good-night, Cyril; we have had a delightful evening, have we not?'
+And to this Cyril responded gaily--for it was not possible there could
+be any lingering adieus before Michael; and as Cyril ran down the
+terrace Audrey waited until Michael had fastened the door, and then
+accompanied him to the study.
+
+'How nice and warm it is!' she observed in a pleased tone. 'You always
+keep up such a splendid fire.'
+
+'I am a chilly mortal, you know, and these March nights have a touch of
+December in them.'
+
+'Yes; it is quite frosty.'
+
+And Audrey threw back her hood and cloak and sat down in Dr. Ross's
+favourite chair. 'Had she any idea how like a picture she looked,'
+Michael wondered, 'with all those soft white draperies about her, and
+the sparkling cross upon her neck?' Then he turned away his head with a
+mute sensation of pain. How happy, how very happy, she looked!
+
+'We have had such a nice evening, she began in her most animated manner;
+'everything was so well arranged. There was a dinner-party first, which
+was followed by what they called a Cinderella dance; but actually they
+do not mean to break up for another hour and a half. Mrs. Charrington
+was quite annoyed because we came home so early.'
+
+'And you enjoyed yourself?'
+
+'Oh, immensely! I waltzed twice with Cyril. Do you know, he dances
+splendidly--he was certainly my best partner.'
+
+'Yes; he looks as though he would dance well. Would you believe it,
+Audrey, that when I was a youngster I was considered a good dancer, too?
+It is rather droll to remember that now.'
+
+'I can very easily believe it--you do everything well, Michael.'
+
+'Pshaw!' And then Michael added, with a pretended yawn: 'I think I could
+sleep well, though.'
+
+But Audrey refused to take this very broad hint.
+
+'What a hurry you are in! And I have not warmed myself yet. Do stay a
+little longer, Michael. I so seldom get you to myself.'
+
+'But it is very late,' he returned, unwilling to yield.
+
+'I will only keep you a few minutes,' she replied eagerly; 'but I want
+to tell you something.'
+
+Then he was obliged to sit down again.
+
+'What is it?' he asked a little languidly, for the spell of her presence
+was so strong that it threatened to subjugate him. He was never
+willingly alone with her now. The fear was always upon him that, in some
+weak moment, he might betray himself. The fear was an idle one--no man
+was less likely than Michael to lose his self-control; but,
+nevertheless, it was there.
+
+'It is about Cyril,' she returned softly. 'Dr. Charrington has been so
+nice to him to-night. He stood out once during the Lancers, and Dr.
+Charrington came up to him, and they had quite a long talk together. He
+said father had been speaking to him, and that he had quite made up his
+mind that Cyril should be in the upper school next year, when Mr.
+Hanbury left. It would be a better position, and he would be able to
+have private pupils. And he as good as told him that he would do his
+best to push him, for father's sake.'
+
+'Blake must have been very pleased at this,' replied Michael; but he
+spoke in a dull, monotonous way.
+
+'Yes; he is quite excited. Don't you see,' she continued a little shyly,
+'it will make all the difference to us if Dr. Charrington pushes Cyril;
+for of course it will make it possible for him to marry.'
+
+Then Michael felt as though he had accidentally touched a full-charged
+battery. He waited until the numb, tingling sensation had left him
+before he answered her.
+
+'I did not know that you wished to shorten your engagement,' he said
+very quietly; 'I understood that there would be no talk of settling for
+the next two or three years; but, of course, if your father has no
+objection----'
+
+'How you talk, Michael!' returned Audrey, blushing with some annoyance
+at this obvious misunderstanding of her meaning; 'it is Cyril who is in
+a hurry: for myself, I should be perfectly content to go on as we are
+for the next five years. Do you not remember my tirade on the pleasures
+of freedom?'
+
+'I think I do recall something of the kind.' Alas! had he ever forgotten
+anything she had said to him?
+
+'Well, I am afraid I am of the same opinion still; only I dare not let
+Cyril know that: he would be so hurt. I suppose,' reflectively, 'men are
+different from women; they do always seem in such a dreadful hurry about
+everything. When Cyril complains that he feels unsettled, and that I get
+between him and his work, I do not pretend to understand him. I am very
+matter-of-fact, am I not, Michael?'
+
+'I should not have said so.'
+
+'Oh, but I am; and I am afraid Cyril thinks so. Well, as I have told you
+my good news I will not detain you any longer.' And then Michael rose
+with a feeling of relief.
+
+But as he followed her a few minutes later upstairs, he wondered what
+she must have thought of him. With all his efforts, he had been unable
+to bring himself to utter one word of congratulation. 'It would have
+been a lie,' he said to himself vehemently; 'how could I find it in my
+heart to deceive her for a moment? This may be their last happy day,
+Heaven help them both!' and Michael went to bed in profound
+wretchedness.
+
+'My roses are withered,' thought Audrey, as she regarded the drooping
+buds and leaves; 'my poor beautiful roses, and they were Cyril's gift,
+too. What a pity that flowers must die, and we must grow old--that in
+this world there must always be decay and change! Shall I ever be
+happier than I am to-night, with Cyril to love me, and Michael--dear
+Michael--to be my friend? What makes him so grave? He is always grave
+now.' And then she sighed and laid down her flowers, and took the
+glittering cross from her neck. 'My poor Michael! I should like to see
+him happy, too,' she finished, as she put it away in its case.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+'OLIVE WILL ACKNOWLEDGE ANYTHING'
+
+     'Evil, like a rolling stone upon a mountain-top,
+     A child may first impel, a giant cannot stop.'--TRENCH.
+
+     'By despising himself too much, a man comes to be worthy of his own
+     contempt.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+Audrey was sure it was the east wind that made everyone so unlike
+themselves the next morning. Bailey had told her that the wind was
+decidedly easterly, or, perhaps, more strictly speaking, north-east. She
+had run down the garden to speak to him about some plants, and perhaps
+with some intention of intercepting Cyril when he went across to
+breakfast, and they had had quite a confabulation on the subject.
+
+But when she got back to the house she found rather a subdued state of
+things. Mrs. Ross looked tired; her husband had kept her awake by his
+restlessness, and she had got it firmly in her mind that a fit of gout
+was impending. Dr. Ross had once had a touch of gout--a very slight
+touch, to be sure--but it had given him a wholesome fear of the
+complaint, and had implanted in him a deep distrust of other men's port
+wine; and his devoted wife had never forgotten the circumstance.
+
+'And I am sure,' she observed in an undertone to her daughter, 'that if
+I were not quite certain that there is nothing troubling your
+father--for, of course, he would have told me of it at once--I should
+have said there was something on his mind, for he tossed and groaned so;
+but mark my words, Audrey, it is his old enemy, the gout; and if only I
+could induce him to speak to Dr. Pilkington we might ward it off still.'
+
+'What is that you are telling the child, Emmie?' asked the Doctor, who
+had very sharp ears. 'Gout! stuff and nonsense! I never was better in my
+life.'
+
+'I think your complexion looks a little sallow this morning, John,'
+returned Mrs. Ross rather timidly, for she knew her husband's objection
+to any form of ailment; 'and I am sure you never closed your eyes all
+night.' But at this Dr. Ross pished impatiently, and it was then that
+Audrey hazarded her brilliant suggestion about the east wind.
+
+'Michael looks rather limp, too,' she went on; 'and he never could
+endure an east wind.'
+
+'Have your own way, Audrey,' returned her cousin good-humouredly; but
+neither to her nor to Mrs. Ross did he confess that his night had been
+sleepless too. When he had finished his breakfast he went round to the
+stables, where Dr. Ross joined him. He had ordered the dog-cart to be
+got ready for him, and he told the groom that there was no need to bring
+it round to the front door.
+
+Dr. Ross watched him silently as he drew on his driving gloves and
+turned up the collar of his coat.
+
+'You will have a cold drive, I am afraid,' he said at last, as Michael
+took the reins and the brown mare began to fidget; 'come to my study the
+moment you get back.' And Michael nodded.
+
+Much as he disliked the business before him, he was anxious to get it
+over; so he drove as fast as possible; and as the mare was fresh and
+skittish, she gave him plenty to think about, and he was quite warm with
+the exertion of holding her in and restraining her playful antics by the
+time he pulled up at the village inn, which went by the name of the Cat
+and Fiddle. Here he had the mare put up, while he walked down the one
+main street of Brail, and down a lane or two, until he came to Mr.
+O'Brien's sequestered cottage.
+
+Mr. O'Brien opened the door himself. When he saw Michael, he shook his
+head with an air of profound sadness, and led the way without speaking
+into the parlour, where he usually sat, and where Sam was basking before
+the fire after the luxurious habit of cats.
+
+He got up, however, and rubbed his sleek head against Michael's knee as
+he sat down in the black elbow-chair; but Mr. O'Brien still stood on the
+rug, shaking his head sadly.
+
+'You have come, Captain. I made up my mind you would come to-day, to get
+at the rights of it; I told Mat so. "Depend upon it, the Captain will
+look us up," I said to him; "he is a man of action, and it is not likely
+he will let the grass grow under his feet. He will be round, sure
+enough, and you will have to be ready with your answers."'
+
+'Where is your brother, Mr. O'Brien?'
+
+'He has gone out for a bit, but he will be back presently. I told him
+not to go far. "You'll be wanted, you may take my word for it--you'll be
+wanted, Mat," I told him; and then he promised he would be round
+directly.'
+
+'I am afraid this affair has been a great shock to you, Mr. O'Brien.
+Miss Ross once told me that you had no idea whom your brother married.'
+
+'Well, sir, I can't say as much as that. Mat told me that the name of
+the girl he was going to wed was Olive Carrick, and that she came of
+respectable people; but he did not tell me much more than that. And now
+I put it to you, Captain--how was I to know that any woman would falsify
+her husband's name, and that she should be living close to my doors, as
+one might say?--for what is a matter of three miles? It gave me a sort
+of shiver--and I have not properly got rid of it yet--when I think of
+that dear young creature, whom Susan and me have always loved--that she
+should be entrapped through that woman's falseness into an engagement
+with Mat's son. It goes to my heart--it does indeed, Captain--to see
+that dear, sweet lady dragged into a connection that will only disgrace
+her.'
+
+'My cousin would think it no disgrace to be connected with you, Mr.
+O'Brien;' for he knew too well Audrey's large-mindedness and absence of
+conventionality. 'She has always looked upon you as her friend.'
+
+'Thank you, Captain; that is very handsomely said, and I wish my Prissy
+could have heard it, for she has done nothing but cry since the news
+reached her. "Rachel refusing to be comforted" is nothing compared to
+Prissy when the mood is on her; she literally waters all her meals with
+her tears. Yes, you mean it handsomely; but I am an old man, Captain
+Burnett, and know the world a bit, and I have the sense to see that
+Thomas O'Brien--honest and painstaking as he may be--is no fit
+connection for Dr. Ross's daughter. Why, to think she might be my niece
+and call me "uncle"!' and here the old man's face flushed as he spoke.
+'It is not right; it is not as it should be. She must give him up--she
+must indeed, Captain!'
+
+'I am afraid Dr. Ross holds that opinion, Mr. O'Brien. You will
+understand that he means no disrespect to you; but it is simply
+intolerable to him that any daughter of his should marry Matthew
+O'Brien's son. You see, I am speaking very plainly.'
+
+'Yes, sir; and I am speaking just as plainly to you. In this sort of
+case it is no use beating about the bush. Mat has made his bed, and he
+must just lie on it; and his children--Heaven help them, poor young
+things!--must just lie on theirs too. Dear, dear! to think that when she
+was talking to me so pleasantly about Mollie and Kester, and--what is
+her lad's name?--that neither she nor I had an idea that she was
+speaking to their uncle! There, it beats me, Captain--it does indeed!'
+And there were tears in the old man's eyes.
+
+'I am afraid there is heavy trouble in store for them all, and for my
+cousin, too; she will be very unwilling to give up Blake.'
+
+'Humph! that is what he calls himself! Well, she was always faithful,
+Captain; she is made of good stout stuff, and that sort wears best in
+the long-run. If she is a bit difficult, send her to me, and I'll talk
+to her. I will put things before her in a light she won't be able to
+resist.'
+
+In spite of the sadness of the conversation, Michael could hardly
+forbear a smile.
+
+'I hardly know what you would say to her, Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'You leave that to me, Captain; it is best not to be too knowing about
+things. But I don't mind telling you one thing that I would say: "My
+dear young lady, you have been a good and true friend to Thomas O'Brien,
+and I am grateful and proud to call you my friend; but I will not have
+you for my niece. Mat's son may be good as gold--I have nothing to say
+against the poor lad, who, after all, is my own flesh and blood; but it
+would be a sin and shame to wed him, when his father picked oakum in a
+felon's cell." Don't you think that will fetch her, sir? Women are
+mostly proud, and like their menkind to have clean hands; and I'll say
+it, too!' And here Mr. O'Brien thumped the arm of his chair so
+emphatically, that Sam woke and uttered a reproachful mew.
+
+'I hope you will not be put to the pain of saying this to her,'
+returned. Michael, in a low voice.
+
+What a fine old fellow this was! He wondered what Dr. Ross would say
+when he repeated this speech to him. Nature must have intended Tom
+O'Brien for a gentleman. Could anything be more touching than the way he
+sought to shield his girl-friend, even putting aside the natural claims
+of his own flesh and blood to prevent her from being sullied by any
+contact with him and his?
+
+Michael felt as though he longed to shake hands with him, and tell him
+how he honoured and respected him; but he instinctively felt that any
+such testimony would hardly be understood. One word he did venture to
+say:
+
+'I think it is very good of you to take our side.'
+
+'Nay, sir, I can see nought of goodness in it. As my Susan used to say,
+you should not praise people for walking along a straight road, and for
+not taking the first crooked path that offers itself. Susan and I
+thought alike there--we were neither of us fond of crooked turnings.
+"There can only be one right and one wrong, Tom," as she would say; and
+I hope, Captain, that I shall always tell the truth and shame the devil
+as long as I am a living man.'
+
+'I should think there would be no doubt of that,' returned Michael
+heartily. And then a faint smile crossed the old man's face; but it
+faded in a moment, as footsteps sounded in the passage outside.
+
+'That is Mat; he has kept his word in coming back so soon. I had better
+fetch him in, and then you'll get it over.'
+
+'You need not leave the room, Mr. O'Brien; this is your business as well
+as ours.'
+
+'I know it, sir. But, thank you kindly, I feel as if I had said my say,
+and that I may as well bide quiet with Prissy. Mat has had it all out
+with me; we were up half the night talking. I always hoped I was a
+Christian, Captain; but I doubt it when I think of the words I spoke
+about that woman. She married that poor lad to serve her own purposes
+and to spite her lover; and while he doted on her, she just looked down
+on him, and scouted his people because they were in trade. She pretty
+nearly ruined him with her fine lady-like ways, and with pestering him
+for money that he had not got; and then, when he made that slip of his,
+and was almost crazy with the sin and the shame, she just gives him
+up--will have nothing more to do with him. And that is the woman that
+the Almighty made so fair outside that our poor foolish lad went half
+wild for the love of her! No, sir; if you will excuse me, I will just
+send Mat along, and keep in the background a bit. It makes me grind my
+teeth with pain and anger to hear how she treated the poor fellow,
+almost driving him mad with her bitter tongue!'
+
+'Then in that case I will certainly not keep you.' And as he spoke he
+noticed how the vigorous old man seemed to totter as he rose from his
+chair; but he only shook his head with the same gentle smile as Michael
+offered him his arm.
+
+'Nay, Captain; that is not needed. I am only a bit shaken with all
+that's passed, and you must give me time to right myself. Now I will
+send Mat in; and when you have finished I'll see you again.'
+
+Michael did not have to wait long. He had only crossed the room to look
+at a photograph of Susan O'Brien which always stood on a little round
+table in the corner, when he found the light suddenly intercepted, as
+Matthew O'Brien's tall figure blocked up the little window.
+
+To his surprise, Mat commenced the conversation quite easily:
+
+'You are looking at Susan, Captain Burnett? That was taken twelve or
+thirteen years ago. Isn't it a kind, true face?--that is better than a
+handsome one in the long-run. She does not look as though she would
+desert a man when his head is under water--eh, Captain?'
+
+'No, indeed!' returned Michael, falling at once into the other man's
+humour. 'Mrs. O'Brien must have been a thoroughly good woman, for her
+husband never seems to have got over her loss; he is always talking
+about her.'
+
+'That is so like Tom! He was never given to keep a silent tongue in his
+head: he must always speak out his thoughts, good or bad. That is rather
+different from me. Why, I have often spent days without opening my
+mouth, except to call to my dog. I think Tom finds it a relief to talk;
+the sound of his own tongue soothes him.'
+
+'Very likely. Shall we sit down, Mr. O'Brien? the fireside is rather a
+pleasant place this bitter March day.'
+
+'As you like,' returned Mat indifferently; 'for myself, I prefer to
+stand;' and as he spoke he propped his tall figure against the wooden
+mantelpiece, and, half shielding his face with one arm, looked down into
+the blaze.
+
+In this attitude Michael could only see his side-face, and he was
+startled at the strong likeness to Cyril--the profile was nearly as
+finely cut; and it was only when he turned his full face that the
+resemblance ceased to be so striking. Cyril had the same dark eyes and
+low, broad forehead; but his beautifully-formed mouth and chin were very
+different from his father's, which expressed far too clearly a weak,
+irresolute character. But he was a handsome man, and, in spite of his
+shabby coat, there was something almost distinguished in his appearance.
+Anyone seeing the man for the first time would have guessed he had a
+story; very probably, looking at his broad chest and closely-cropped
+gray hair and black moustache, they would have taken him for a soldier,
+as Michael did.
+
+Somehow, he found it a little difficult to begin the conversation; he
+hoped Matthew O'Brien would speak again; but he seemed disinclined to
+break the silence that had grown up between them.
+
+'You are not much like your brother, Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'No, sir; Tom and I are not much alike, and more's the pity. Tom has
+been an honest man all his life.'
+
+Michael was about to reply that that was not saying much in his favour;
+but he felt that under the circumstances this would be awkward, so he
+held his peace.
+
+'There aren't many men to beat Tom,' continued Mat. 'Few folk would be
+so stanch to their own flesh and blood when only disgrace would come of
+it; but Tom is too fine-hearted to trample on a fellow when he is down
+and other folk are crying "Fie! for shame!" on him. Would you believe
+it, sir,' stretching out a sinewy thin hand as he spoke, 'that that
+brother of mine never said an unkind word to me in my life; and when I
+came back to him that night, feeling none too sure of my welcome, it was
+just a grip of the hand and "Come in, my lad," as though I were the
+young chap I used to be coming home to spend my holiday with him and
+Susan.'
+
+'I think your brother one of the best men living, Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'And so he is, sir; and so he is; but you have not come all this way to
+talk about Tom;' and here he paused, and again the shielding hand went
+over his eyes, and Michael could see a twitching of the mouth under the
+moustache. 'It is about Olive that you want to see me.'
+
+'You are right. Will you kindly give me the date and place of your
+marriage?'
+
+Matthew O'Brien nodded and drew a folded paper from his breast-pocket.
+
+'There it is. Tom told me I had better write it down in black and white
+to save us all trouble. I have put down the date and the name of the
+church where we were married. Strange to say, I can even recollect the
+name of the parson who did the job; he was a little black-haired man,
+and his name was Craven. It was a runaway match, you know. Olive was
+stopping with some friends in Dublin, and I met her early one morning
+and took her to St. Patrick's. You will find it all right in the
+register--Matthew Robert O'Brien and Olive Carrick. There were only two
+witnesses: an old pew-opener, and a friend of mine, Edgar Boyle. Boyle
+is dead now, poor chap! but you will find his name all right.'
+
+'Can you tell me also, Mr. O'Brien, where I can find the entries of your
+children's baptism? It may be necessary for them to know this some day.'
+
+'Well, sir, I believe I can satisfy you on that point, too. We were
+living at Stoke Newington when the children were born. You will find
+their names in the register at St. Philip's--Cyril Langton Carrick: that
+was a bit of her pride; she wanted the boy to have her family names.
+Kester and Mary Olivia--my little Mollie as we meant to call her--I have
+not seen her since she was a baby;' and here Michael was sure Mat dashed
+away a tear. 'It was a barbarous thing to rob me of my children, and I
+was so fond of the little chaps, too. I think I took most to Kester; he
+was such a cunning, clever little rogue, and his mother did not make
+half the fuss about him that she did about Cyril.'
+
+'She has acknowledged that to me.'
+
+'I don't doubt it, sir. Olive will acknowledge anything; she will have
+her flare-up one minute and frighten you to death with her tantrums, and
+the next she will be as placid and sweet-tongued as ever. She was never
+the same for two days running; it would be always some scheme or other,
+something for which she needed money. I used to tell her she never
+opened her lips to me except to ask me for money; and woe betide me if I
+told her I was hard up.'
+
+'But she had money of her own?'
+
+'Yes; but she muddled it away. She was always a bad manager. I never saw
+such a woman; and Biddy was just as bad. We might have had a comfortable
+home, and I might have kept out of trouble, if she had listened to me;
+but I might as well have spoken to that wall.'
+
+'But surely it was your duty as her husband to restrain her? Her son
+manages her quite easily now.'
+
+'Perhaps so,' a little sullenly; 'maybe she cares for her son, though
+she turned against her husband; her heart was always like flint stone
+to me. I was afraid of her, Captain Burnett, and she knew it; and that
+gave her a handle over me. A man ought not to fear his own wife--it is
+against nature; but, there, when she looked at me in her cold,
+contemptuous way, and dared me to dictate to her, I felt all my courage
+ooze out of me. I could have struck her when she looked at me like that;
+and I think she wanted me to, just to make out a case against me: but,
+fool that I was, I was too fond of her and the children to do it. I bore
+it all, and perilled my good name for her sake; and this is how she has
+treated me--spurned me away from her as though I were a dog!'
+
+'She has not been a good wife to you; but, all the same, I do not
+understand why you took her at her word. Did you never in all these
+years make an effort to be reconciled with her for the sake of your
+children?'
+
+'You do not know Olive when you put such a question. There will be no
+reconciliation possible in this world. I may compel her to own herself
+my wife, but I could not force her to say a kind word to me. She talked
+me over into setting her free, and made me promise not to hunt her out.
+She got over me. Olive is a rare talker; she told me it would be better
+for the little chaps not to bear their father's name--she would take
+them away and bring them up to be good, honest men, and she would take
+care no shame should ever touch them; and would you believe it, sir, I
+was so cowed and broken with the thought of all those years I was to
+spend in prison, that for the time I agreed with her. It was just as
+though I had made her a promise to commit suicide. I was to let her and
+the children go, and not to put in my claims when they set me free; and
+as she talked and I answered her, it seemed to me as though Mat O'Brien
+were already dead.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+'HOW CAN I BEAR IT?'
+
+     'Through that gloom he will see but a shadow appearing,
+       Perceive but a voice as I come to his side;
+     But deeper their voice grows, and nobler their bearing,
+       Whose youth in the fires of anguish hath died.'
+
+                                                  MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Michael was trying to frame a suitable reply to this speech, that was at
+once so tragic and hopeless, when Mat suddenly turned to him and said,
+in a strangely altered voice:
+
+'I want you to tell me one thing, sir. Why does she call herself Blake?'
+
+'I am afraid I cannot enlighten you on that point,' returned Michael,
+after a moment's consideration; 'probably it was the first name that
+occurred to her. You will allow that it is short and handy, and that it
+is by no means conspicuous.' But this answer did not seem to satisfy
+Matthew O'Brien. An uneasy, almost suspicious look came into his eyes.
+
+'I suppose it does not mean,' he continued, hesitating over his words,
+'that she--Olive--has put herself under another man's protection?'
+
+'Good heavens, O'Brien!' exclaimed Michael, in a shocked voice. 'How can
+you wrong your wife so? With all her sins, I do not believe she is that
+sort of woman.'
+
+'You mistake me, sir,' returned Mat doggedly. 'And, in a way, you
+mistake Olive too. She has not got the notions of other women. She would
+not think things wrong that would horrify other folk. When she gave me
+up, she said that she should consider herself free, and she might even
+make it straight with her conscience to marry another man, who would be
+a better protector to her and the children. I do not say Olive has done
+this. But if it be so, by the powers above, Captain Burnett, I will
+have the law of her there! So let her and the other fellow look out for
+themselves!'
+
+'There is no need to excite yourself so, O'Brien. Your wife is too much
+a woman of the world to get herself into that sort of trouble. Her love
+for her eldest son is her master passion. And I do not suppose she has
+even given a thought to another man.'
+
+'I am glad to hear it, Captain. But Olive has fooled me once, and I
+doubted but she might have done it again. Perhaps you may not have heard
+it, but she would never have married me if Darrell--Major Darrell, he
+was--had not jilted her. She told me once, to spite me, that she
+worshipped the ground the fellow trod on. And he was a cad--confound
+him!--one of those light-hearted gentry who dance with girls and make
+love to them, and then boast of their conquests. But he had a way with
+him, and she never cared for anyone again. She has told me so again and
+again in her tantrums.'
+
+'My poor fellow,' returned Michael pityingly, 'you may at least be easy
+on one point. Mrs. Blake--or Mrs. O'Brien, as I suppose we must call
+her--has certainly led an exemplary life since she left you, devoting
+herself to her children, and especially to her eldest son.'
+
+Mat made no answer. His brief excitement had faded, and he now resumed
+his old dejection of manner. He leant his head on his hand again and
+looked into the fire; but by and by he roused himself from his
+abstraction.
+
+'Cyril has grown up a fine, handsome fellow, I hear. I suppose he has
+Olive's good looks?'
+
+'He is very like her, certainly. He is a good-looking man, and
+exceedingly clever. Any father might feel proud of such a son.'
+
+'And he is to marry the young lady I saw here the other day. I forget
+her name, but she is the daughter of the chief boss down here.'
+
+Michael gave a faint shudder.
+
+'Her name is Miss Ross.'
+
+'Oh yes, I remember now. Tom says the marriage will be broken off; but
+we will talk of that presently. I want to hear something about the other
+little chap--Kester.'
+
+'He has not got his brother's good health, I am sorry to say.' And here
+Michael gave a short sketch of Kester's boyish accident, and the results
+that followed. 'He can walk very fairly now,' he continued, 'and will
+soon lay aside his crutch; but I fear he will never make a strong man.'
+
+'Dear, dear!' returned Mat in a sorrowful tone. 'And to think of the
+active little monkey he used to be! Why, I can see him now, mounted
+aloft on my shoulder and holding me round the neck till I was fairly
+choked, and the other lad clasping me round the knee, and hallooing out
+that he wanted to ride dada, too, though Olive never seemed to care to
+see me play with them--we made so much noise, she said. Dear, dear! and
+to think of the poor chap on crutches! And there is Mollie, too; she was
+only a baby when I saw her last--such a fat, rosy little thing!'
+
+'Mollie is a fine-grown girl, and as nice a child as you would wish to
+see. We are all very fond of her.'
+
+'Well, she has kept her word, and done her duty to them. And now look
+here, sir. You just bring me somewhere where I can see the youngsters,
+and hear them talk, and I will promise you to keep dark, and not let out
+to them that I am their father. I will just have a look at them, and
+then I will never trouble them again.'
+
+'What on earth do you mean, O'Brien?'
+
+'I mean that Olive is right, and that they are better without me,'
+returned Mat dejectedly. 'Do you suppose they would have any love in
+their hearts for a father who could only bring disgrace on them? No,
+sir; I am not going to stand in their light and spoil their lives for
+them. I have given them up to Olive, and she seems to have done her best
+for them. Let the youngster have his sweetheart, and I will just bide
+here quietly with Tom; or, if you think that Brail is too near, I will
+put the seas between us again; and you can tell Olive so, if you like.'
+
+'I shall tell her nothing of the kind, O'Brien,' returned Michael, much
+touched at this generosity on the part of the poor prodigal. 'I will not
+deny that this is the very thing she suggested; she even begged me to
+propose this to you, but I refused. Do you suppose that either I or my
+cousin, Dr. Ross, would connive at such deceit and falsehood? It is
+quite true that Mrs. Blake and her children may refuse to have anything
+to do with you, but that is solely their affair. In a few hours, Mr.
+O'Brien, your eldest son will be made aware of his father's existence.'
+
+'I am sorry to hear it, sir,' returned Mat, in a weak, hopeless voice.
+'You will make a great mistake, and nothing good will come of it. She
+will teach the youngsters to loathe my very name, and as for the
+lad'--here he spoke with strong emotion--'he will be ready to curse me
+for spoiling his life. No, no, sir; let sleeping dogs lie. Better let me
+keep dark, and bring trouble to no one.'
+
+But Michael shook his head. Such double-dealing and deceit could only
+deepen the mischief.
+
+'Dr. Ross will never give his sanction to his daughter's marriage; he
+has assured me so most solemnly. Whatever trouble comes will be of your
+wife's causing.'
+
+But Mat would not agree to this.
+
+'She meant no harm, sir. Olive always had curious ideas of right and
+wrong, and she did her best for the youngsters. According to your
+account, she has brought them up well, and sent the lad to Oxford. Fancy
+a son of mine being such a swell, and engaged to that young lady, too!
+Lord! when I think of it, I am ready to wish I had never left the bush.'
+
+'It is no use wishing that now, Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'No, sir; and it is no use talking over what can't be mended. If you
+have made up your mind to tell the lad, it is pretty plain that I can't
+hinder you; but I will not lift a finger to help you. I will just stop
+where I am.'
+
+'I think perhaps that will be best under the circumstances.'
+
+'But, all the same, it makes me uncommon restless to feel that Olive and
+the youngsters are only three miles off, and I can't get at them. Put
+yourself in my place, sir, and you would not find it very pleasant. And
+there's Tom, too--with all his fine-hearted Christianity--vowing
+vengeance on Olive, and threatening to turn her away from the door if
+she ever dares to show her face here.'
+
+'I do not think that she will ever molest you or your brother.'
+
+'I am quite of your opinion, Captain. Olive will give me a pretty wide
+berth, unless it is her interest to see me; and then all Tom's rough
+speeches wouldn't turn her from her purpose. For tenacity and getting
+her own way, I'd back her against any woman.'
+
+'Well, as you say, there is nothing to be gained by talking.' returned
+Michael, rising from his chair; but at this moment Mr. O'Brien entered.
+
+'I hope I am not interrupting you, Captain; but it is getting late, and
+I was thinking you would take a snack with us. The women are dishing up
+the dinner--just a baked shoulder of mutton and potatoes under it. We
+are plain folk, but Prissy and I will be glad and proud if you will join
+us, sir;' and, after a moment's hesitation, Michael consented.
+
+He had had no idea how late it was; they would already be sitting down
+to luncheon at Woodcote. It would be better for him to take some food
+before he set out on his cold drive home.
+
+'If you will allow me to leave you directly afterwards,' he observed;
+and, as Mat left the room that moment, he took the opportunity to give
+Mr. O'Brien a brief _résumé_ of the conversation.
+
+'He begged me to keep it all dark,' he finished; 'he is thinking more of
+his children than himself. But I told him that such a course would be
+impossible.'
+
+'And you spoke the truth, sir; and no good would come of such
+crookedness. But Mat meant well; the lad has a good heart, and I do not
+doubt he has a sore conscience when he thinks of all the evil he has
+wrought. Leave him with me, sir; I can manage him best. There, I hear
+Prissy calling to us, and we will just take our places.'
+
+Michael felt faint and weary, and the homely viands seemed very
+palatable to him; but he noticed how Matthew O'Brien's want of appetite
+seemed to distress his brother.
+
+'You are eating nought, lad,' he kept saying at intervals, and once he
+bade Prissy fetch the remains of a meat pie that Mat had enjoyed the
+previous days; 'maybe he will find it more toothsome,' he said in his
+hearty way; but Mat would have nothing to say to it.
+
+'You let me be, Tom,' he said at last; 'a man has not always got stomach
+for his food. The Captain has taken away my appetite with his talk, and
+the sight of the meat makes me sick;' and then he got up from the table,
+and they saw him pacing up and down the garden with his pipe.
+
+Michael got away as soon as possible, and Mr. O'Brien walked with him to
+the inn. When the dogcart was brought out, he shook his hand very
+heartily.
+
+'Let me know how things go on, Captain, and God bless you!' and then, as
+though by an afterthought: 'If the girl gives you trouble, send her to
+me, and I will just talk the sense into her.' And then he stood in the
+road and watched until the dogcart and driver were out of sight.
+
+Afternoon work had begun as Michael entered Woodcote, but he found Dr.
+Ross alone in the study.
+
+'I have only a few minutes to give you, Michael,' he said, looking up
+from the letter he was writing; 'I expected you back at least two hours
+ago.' Then Michael gave him a concise account of his interview with the
+brothers.
+
+'Thomas O'Brien is a grand old fellow,' he said enthusiastically; 'you
+should have heard him talk, Dr. Ross; and as for poor Mat, he has the
+makings of a good fellow about him, too, only the devil somehow spoilt
+the batch. Would you believe it?--the poor beggar wanted to efface
+himself--to clear out altogether for the sake of the youngsters, as he
+called them. He was not very polished in his language, but what can you
+expect? Still, he meant well.'
+
+'I daresay he did,' returned the Doctor with a sigh; 'you had better
+keep that paper to show Cyril. I must send you away now, as Carter and
+the other boys are coming to me. I will see you later on.'
+
+And then Michael took himself off. He could hear Audrey's voice as he
+passed the door of her sitting-room; Mollie was with her. A few minutes
+later, as he stood at his window wondering what he should do with
+himself, he saw her walk down the terrace towards the gate with Mollie
+hanging on her arm; they seemed laughing and talking. 'How long will she
+wear that bright face?' he said to himself as he threw himself into his
+easy-chair and took up the paper.
+
+He had just fallen into a doze, with Booty stretched on the softest of
+rugs at his feet, when there was a light tap at his door, and to his
+surprise and discomposure Cyril Blake entered the room.
+
+The visit was so wholly unexpected that Michael stared at him for a
+moment without speaking. Cyril had never come to his private
+sitting-room before without a special invitation.
+
+'I must apologise for this intrusion, Captain Burnett,' began Cyril
+quickly; 'but I wanted to speak to you particularly. Were you asleep? I
+am so sorry if I have disturbed you.'
+
+'No, nonsense. I only felt drowsy because I have been out in this cold
+wind and the room is so warm. Take a chair, Blake. I shall be wide awake
+in a moment. Have you seen the paper to-day? There is nothing in it,
+only a remarkably stupid article on Bismarck.'
+
+'I will look at it by and by; but to tell you the truth, I have come to
+speak to you about my mother. I am seriously uneasy about her: either
+she is ill, or there is something grievously wrong. I understood from
+Mollie that you were with her for more than an hour yesterday; in fact,
+that she sent for you.'
+
+The fire had burnt hollow during Michael's brief nap, and he seized this
+opportunity to stir it vigorously into a blaze; it afforded him a
+momentary respite. A few seconds' reflection convinced him, however,
+that it was no use beating about the bush with a man of Cyril's calibre.
+The truth had to be told, and no amount of preparation would render it
+palatable.
+
+'You are right,' he returned quietly; 'Mrs. Blake sent for me. She
+thought that I should be able to help her in a difficulty.'
+
+Cyril looked intensely surprised. 'I thought Mollie must have made a
+mistake. It seems very strange that my mother----'
+
+He stopped as though civility did not permit him to finish his sentence.
+But Michael perfectly understood him.
+
+'It seems strange to you; of course it does. My acquaintance with Mrs.
+Blake is so slight that it certainly gives me no right to her
+confidence; but she was in trouble--in great trouble, I may say--and
+chance threw me in her way, and so----'
+
+But here Cyril interrupted him.
+
+'My mother in trouble!' he returned incredulously, but Michael thought
+he looked a little pale; 'excuse me, Captain Burnett, if I seem rude,
+but from a boy I have been my mother's friend. She has never kept
+anything from me. I find it almost impossible to believe that she would
+give that confidence to a comparative stranger which she would refuse to
+her son. May I beg you to speak plainly? I abhor mysteries.'
+
+Cyril spoke impatiently and curtly; his tone was almost displeased. But
+Michael took no offence; he regarded the young man very kindly.
+
+'I abhor them too,' he replied gravely; 'but I want you to understand
+one thing: it was a mere chance that brought me in Mrs. Blake's way at a
+moment when she needed assistance; I was only like any other stranger
+who sees a lady in difficulty. Now I have told you this I can speak more
+plainly.'
+
+'I wish to heavens you would!' returned Cyril with growing excitement.
+'Do you know the impression you are giving me?--that there is some
+mysterious confidence between you and my mother. Is it too much to ask
+if I may know what this difficulty and trouble mean?'
+
+'No, Blake; you shall know all in good time,' replied Michael, with
+disarming gentleness. 'If I do not speak out at once, it is because I
+fear to give you too great a shock.'
+
+'Too great a shock?'
+
+'Yes. Your mother, out of mistaken kindness, has kept her children in
+ignorance all these years that they have a father living. He was not a
+father of whom they could be proud, and she tried to keep the fact of
+his existence from them.'
+
+'Wait a moment!' exclaimed Cyril. The poor fellow had turned very white.
+'I must take this in. What are you telling me, Burnett? That my
+mother--my widowed mother--has a husband living?'
+
+'I am telling you the truth. Are you ready to hear me say more? I will
+wait any time you like; but it is a long story, and a sad one. Your
+mother has left me to tell it.'
+
+'Go on! Let me hear every word! Hide nothing--nothing!'
+
+Cyril spoke in a dull, stifled voice, as though he felt choking. When
+Michael began to speak, very slowly and quietly, he almost turned his
+back to him; and as the story proceeded, Michael noticed how he clutched
+the carved arms of his chair; but he did not once see his face. Michael
+afterwards owned that telling that miserable story to Olive O'Brien's
+son was one of the toughest jobs he had ever done in his life. But he
+had no idea how well he did it: there was not an unnecessary word. With
+the utmost care he strove to shield the woman, and to show her conduct
+in the best light. 'It was for her children's sake she did it,' he said
+again and again; but there was no answering word from Cyril; if he had
+been turned to stone, his position could not have been more rigid.
+
+'Have you understood me, Blake? My poor, dear fellow, if you knew how
+sorry Dr. Ross and I are for you----'
+
+Then, as Michael mentioned Dr. Ross's name, Cyril seemed galvanised into
+sudden life.
+
+'He knows! he knows! For God's sake give me air!' But before Michael
+could cross the room, Cyril had stumbled to the window and flung it up,
+and stood there, with the bitter east wind blowing on his face, as
+though it were a refreshing summer breeze.
+
+The chill air made Michael shiver; but he knew by experience how
+intolerable was that sense of suffocation, and he stood by patiently
+until that deadly feeling had passed.
+
+'Are you better now, Blake? My poor fellow, can you sit down and speak
+to me?'
+
+Then Cyril turned his face towards him, and Michael was shocked to see
+how strained and haggard it looked.
+
+'Does she know, too?'
+
+'Not yet; her father will tell her.'
+
+Then the poor boy shuddered from head to foot.
+
+'They will make her give me up! O my God! how can I bear it? Burnett, I
+think I shall go mad! Tell me it is not true--that my mother has not
+lied to me all these years!'
+
+'At least, she has lied for her son's sake.' But he knew how futile were
+his words, as he saw the bitter contempt in Cyril's honest eyes.
+
+'I will never forgive her! She has ruined my life! she has made me wish
+that I were dead! I will never, never----'
+
+But Michael interrupted him somewhat sternly:
+
+'Hush! hush! You do not know what you are saying. She is your mother,
+Blake--nothing can alter that fact.'
+
+'She has deceived us all! No, I will not speak; nothing can make it
+better or worse. If I lose Audrey, I do not care what becomes of me!'
+
+Michael looked at him pityingly.
+
+'Do you think you ought to marry her, Blake!'
+
+Then Cyril flung away from him with a groan; even in his misery he
+understood that appeal to his generosity. But he put it from him: he was
+too much stunned, too dazed altogether, to follow out any train of
+reasoning. In a vague sort of way he understood two facts: that he and
+Kester and Mollie were disgraced, and that his mother--the mother whom
+he adored--had deceived him. Beyond this he could not go. The human mind
+has limits.
+
+Afterwards, in the chill hour of darkness and solitude, Michael's words
+would come back to him: 'Do you think you ought to marry her, Blake? Do
+you think you ought to marry her?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+'I SHALL NEVER BE FREE'
+
+     'But there are true hearts which the sight
+       Of sorrow summons forth;
+     Though known in days of past delight,
+       We know not half their worth.'
+
+                                       BAYLY.
+
+
+The words escaped from Michael almost unconsciously; he hardly knew that
+he spoke them aloud; but in his inner consciousness he had no doubt at
+all of the course that ought to be pursued. If he had been in Cyril's
+place he would not have hesitated for a moment. Dearly as he loved
+Audrey--and what that love was only he himself knew--he would have
+refused to marry her. He would have separated himself from her utterly,
+and at once.
+
+Michael's strong, long-suffering nature would have carried him nobly
+through such an ordeal. He was a man who would have acted up to the
+spirit of the Gospel command 'to pluck out the offending eye, or to cut
+off the right hand;' there would have been no parleying, no weak
+dalliance with temptation.
+
+'I love you, but it is my duty to leave you, so farewell for
+ever!'--that is what he would have said to her, knowing all the time
+that life would be utterly joyless to him. Would Cyril, in his hot,
+untried youth, be capable of a like generosity, or would he cleave to
+his betrothed with passionate, one-sided fealty, vowing that nothing on
+earth should separate them as long as they two loved each other?
+
+'They will make her give me up!'--that was all he had said. That seemed
+to be the one deadly terror that assailed him.
+
+Cyril had turned away with a groan when Michael spoke, but he made no
+audible answer, and the next moment his hand was on the door.
+
+'Where are you going, Blake?' inquired Michael anxiously.
+
+It was impossible to keep him, and yet, how could he let him leave him
+in such a condition?
+
+'I must get away from here!' returned Cyril hoarsely. 'I must be alone
+somewhere.'
+
+And Michael understood him.
+
+'Let me at least walk with you,' he returned quickly. 'You might meet
+someone, and perhaps I may be of use. Do not refuse; I will not speak to
+you.' And, as Cyril made no objection--indeed, it was doubtful whether
+he even heard what Michael said--he followed him downstairs.
+
+Just as they reached the hall the drawing-room door opened, and, before
+he could warn Cyril, Audrey came out. She had some music in her hand.
+She uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure when she saw them.
+
+'Michael, I thought you were lost. What have you been doing with
+yourself all day? Were you going out with Cyril? Please don't go just
+yet; it is just beginning to rain, and I want him to practise this duet
+with me. Will you?' looking up in Cyril's face with one of her bright
+smiles.
+
+'I cannot; another time. Please do not keep me!'
+
+Cyril hardly knew what he said. He pushed by her as she stood there
+smiling, with the music in her hand, and went out bareheaded into the
+rain and darkness.
+
+Audrey looked bewildered.
+
+'What does he mean? Is he ill? has anything happened? He is so white,
+and he has forgotten his hat! He has never left me like this before. Oh,
+Michael, do call him back; I must speak to him!'
+
+'I cannot. I think something is troubling him. Let me go, Audrey; he
+will tell you everything by and by.' And Michael snatched up his hat and
+Cyril's, and hurried after him as fast as his halting gait permitted.
+
+Cyril had not gone far; he was standing by the gate quite motionless,
+and his hair and face were wet with the heavy rain. Michael took him by
+the arm and walked on with him; he must see him safely to his room, and
+charge Mrs. Blake not to go near him.
+
+'He must have time; he is simply stunned and incapable of thought now,'
+he said to himself, as he piloted him through the dark, wet streets.
+
+Biddy admitted them. She gave them a searching glance as they entered.
+Cyril's disordered condition must have told her everything, for she put
+her wrinkled, claw-like hand on his arm with a warning gesture.
+
+'Don't let the mistress see you like that, Mr. Cyril avick, or you'll
+fright her to death. Go up softly, or she will hear you.'
+
+But Biddy's warning was in vain. The staircase was badly lighted, and
+Michael made a false, stumbling step. The next moment Mrs. Blake came
+out on the landing. The sight of the two men together seemed to transfix
+her with horror.
+
+'You have told him!--oh, heavens! you have told him!' she cried, in a
+despairing voice.
+
+Cyril raised his heavy eyes and looked at her, but he did not speak; he
+passed her as he had passed Audrey, and went up to his room, and they
+heard the door close heavily behind him.
+
+'I will go to him! How dare you detain me, Captain Burnett? I will go to
+my son!'
+
+But Michael took no notice of this angry remonstrance; his hand was on
+her arm, and very gently, but firmly, he made her enter the
+drawing-room.
+
+'Mrs. Blake, will you listen to me for a moment?'
+
+'No, I will not listen!' she answered passionately, and her bosom began
+to heave. 'I will go to him and make him speak to me. Did you see how he
+looked at me--his mother--as he has never looked at me in his life?' And
+the unhappy woman broke into tears and sobs. 'Oh, my boy! my boy! Let me
+go to him, Captain Burnett, and I will bless you as long as I live; let
+me go and kneel to him, if I must. Do you think my boy will see his
+mother at his feet and not forgive her?'
+
+'He will forgive you, Mrs. Blake,' returned Michael, in a pitying voice;
+'but you must give him time. He cannot speak to you now--he can speak to
+no one; he is simply stunned. Give me your promise that you will not see
+him to-night.'
+
+'Impossible! I will make no such promise. He is my son, not yours. If he
+cannot speak to me, I can at least take his hand and tell him that I am
+sorry.'
+
+'He will not be able to hear you. As far as I can tell, he has taken
+nothing in; the news has simply crushed him. If you will give him time,
+he will pull himself together; but I would not answer for the
+consequences if you persist in seeing him to-night. He is not himself.
+There would be words said that ought never to be uttered. Mrs. Blake, do
+be persuaded. I am speaking for your sake as well as his.'
+
+'You are always so hard,' she moaned.
+
+But from her manner he thought she would not disobey him; he had managed
+to frighten her.
+
+'You will be wise if you take my advice,' he returned, moving away from
+the door. 'I am going to him now, but I shall not stay; it is, above all
+things, necessary that he should be alone.'
+
+'Will you speak to him for me? Will you tell him that my heart is nearly
+broken with that cold, reproachful look of his? Will you at least say
+this, Captain Burnett?'
+
+'I think it would be better not to mention your name to him to-night.'
+
+Then she threw herself back on the couch in a hysterical outburst.
+
+Michael thought it useless to stay with her. He found Biddy outside as
+usual, and sent her in to do her best for her mistress; and then he went
+up to Cyril's room. He found him sitting on the edge of his bed; the
+window was wide open, and the rain was driving in, and had already
+wetted the carpet; a candle someone had lighted was guttering in the
+draught. Michael closed the window, and then he looked at the fireplace.
+There was plenty of fuel at hand. Cyril often worked in his own room,
+and now and then his mother's care had provided him with a fire. The
+room felt cold and damp. There were matches at hand, and Michael had no
+scruple in lighting a fire now; the crackle of wood seemed to rouse
+Cyril.
+
+'Why do you do that? there is no need,' he said irritably.
+
+'Pardon me, there is every need. Do you know your coat is wet, Blake?
+You must change it at once.'
+
+But Cyril only gave an impatient shrug.
+
+'Will you let me see you change it before I go?' he persisted, and he
+actually had his way, perhaps because Cyril was anxious to get rid of
+him. 'Now I am going; I only want to say one word, Blake: you will be
+safe to-night, your mother will not come near you.' Then a look of
+relief crossed Cyril's wan face. 'You shall, at least, have peace for a
+few hours. If I can help you in any way, you have only to speak. Will
+you remember that?'
+
+'Thank you.'
+
+'I mean it. There, that is all I have got to say. God bless you!' and
+as he grasped Cyril's hand there was a faint response.
+
+Michael crept down as softly as he could. As he passed the drawing-room
+door he could hear Mrs. Blake's hysterical sobs, and Biddy soothing her.
+'The Nemesis has come,' he said to himself; and then he went into the
+lower room, where he found Mollie and Kester reading over the fire.
+
+'Don't let me disturb you,' he said hurriedly, as they both sprang up to
+greet him; 'Mollie, your brother wishes to be quiet to-night. He has
+just heard something that troubles him a good deal, and he has desired
+that no one should go near him. If I were you, I should take no notice
+at all.'
+
+'But what are we to do about supper?' returned Mollie with housewifely
+anxiety; 'we have such a nice supper, and Cyril will be so cold and
+hungry shut up in his room. We have made such a big fire, because he was
+going to spend the evening with us.'
+
+'He has a fire, too; he was very wet, and the room felt damp, so I
+lighted it. You might take up a tray to him presently and put it outside
+his door, and perhaps a cup of nice hot coffee.'
+
+'Ah! I will go and make it at once, and mamma shall have some, too.' And
+Mollie ran off in her usual impetuous manner, but Kester sat still in
+his place.
+
+'What is the matter, Captain Burnett?' he asked anxiously; 'we heard
+mother crying just now, and saying that Cyril would not speak to her.
+Mollie heard it quite plainly, and so did I.'
+
+'You shall know all in good time, my dear boy,' returned Michael, laying
+his hand on Kester's shoulder; 'do not ask me any more just now.'
+
+Kester looked at him wistfully, but he was trained to self-discipline,
+and he asked no more; and Michael went back to Woodcote.
+
+It was just dinner-time, and the gong sounded before he was ready; but
+he made some easy excuse and slipped into his place, and began to talk
+to Dr. Ross about the new swimming-baths that were being built. It was
+the first topic that came handy to him, and Dr. Ross at once followed
+his lead; the subject lasted them until the end of dinner. Audrey was
+unusually silent, but neither of them made any remark on her gravity.
+Now and then Michael addressed some observation to her, but she answered
+him briefly and without interest.
+
+They went into the schoolroom for prayers as usual, and Audrey played
+the harmonium; but as he was following Mrs. Ross back into the
+drawing-room, Audrey tapped him on the arm.
+
+'Don't go in there just yet, Michael; I want to speak to you.'
+
+Then he suffered himself very reluctantly to be detained by the hall
+fire.
+
+'Michael,' she began, in rather a peremptory tone, 'I cannot understand
+either you or Cyril to-night. You are both very strange, I think. Cyril
+leaves me without a word, and goes out looking like a ghost, and you
+tell me that something is troubling him, and yet neither of you
+vouchsafes me one word of explanation.'
+
+'I cannot help it, Audrey; it is not my affair. Blake was in a hurry;
+you must have seen that for yourself.'
+
+'He was very extraordinary in his behaviour, and so were you. Of course,
+if you don't choose to answer me, Michael, I will just send a note
+across to Cyril, and tell him I must see him at once.'
+
+'I should hardly do that, if I were you.'
+
+'Not write to him!' in an offended voice. 'Really, Michael, you are too
+mysterious; why, this borders on absurdity! Cyril is in trouble--in one
+breath you tell me that--and then you would prevent my writing to ask
+him to come to me! I shall certainly write to him.'
+
+'Will you go to your father instead? He has just gone into the study.'
+
+Then Audrey looked at him with intense astonishment.
+
+'What has my father got to do with it?'
+
+'Never mind all that,' returned Michael slowly. 'Go to Dr. Ross, and ask
+him why Blake is in trouble. He will tell you; you may take my word for
+it.'
+
+Audrey still gazed at him; but Michael's grave manner left her in no
+doubt as to the seriousness of the matter, and her eyes looked a little
+troubled.
+
+'Go, dear,' he repeated gently; 'it will be best for you to hear it from
+him.'
+
+Then she left him without another word, and went straight to the study.
+
+It seemed as though her father expected her, for he looked at her as she
+came slowly towards him, and put out his hand.
+
+'You have come to talk to me, my darling. Sit down beside me. No, not
+that chair; it is too far off. Come closer to me, my child.'
+
+Then, as Audrey obeyed him, she felt a sense of growing uneasiness. What
+did that sorrowful tenderness in her father's voice mean? For the moment
+her courage failed her, and her lips could not frame the question she
+had come to ask.
+
+'You want me to tell you about Cyril's trouble?'
+
+Then she sat and gazed at him in speechless dread.
+
+Dr. Ross cleared his throat and shifted his spectacles. He began to find
+his task difficult.
+
+'If I only knew how to prepare you, Audrey! But I can think of no words
+that will break the force of such a shock. I will tell you one thing: a
+few hours ago Cyril was as ignorant of the great trouble that has
+befallen him as you are at this present moment.'
+
+She touched him with a hand that had grown suddenly very cold.
+
+'Wait for one minute, father; I must ask you something: Did Michael tell
+this thing to Cyril this afternoon?'
+
+'Yes, dear. By some strange chance Michael was put in possession of a
+terrible secret. There was no one else to break it to the poor fellow,
+and, as you and I know, Mike is not the man to shirk any unpleasant
+duty.'
+
+'I understand. You may go on now, father dear; I am prepared--I am quite
+prepared. I know it was no light trouble that brought that look on
+Cyril's face; and Michael, too, was very strange and unlike himself.'
+And then she composed herself to listen.
+
+Dr. Ross told the story as carefully as he could, but he made no attempt
+to soften facts. A skilful surgeon cuts deep: the patient may quiver
+under the relentless knife, but the present pain will prevent lasting
+injury. Dr. Ross wished his daughter to see things from his point of
+view. It was impossible to spare her suffering; but she was young, and
+he hoped time and her own strong sense of duty would bring their own
+healing. He could not judge of the effect on her. Almost at his first
+words she had dropped her head upon his knees, and her face was hidden
+from him; and though his hand rested on her soft hair, she made no sign
+or movement.
+
+'That is all I have to tell you, my darling. No one knows but you and I
+and Michael. I have not told your mother; I thought it best to wait.'
+Then she stirred a little uneasily under his caressing hand. 'My own
+child, you do not need to be told how I grieve for you and Cyril; it is
+a bitter disappointment to you both; but--but'--his voice dropped a
+little--'you must give him up.'
+
+There was no perceptible start; only, as he said this, Audrey raised her
+face from his knee, and looked at him. She was very pale, but her eyes
+were quite dry; only the firm, beautiful lips trembled a little.
+
+'I do not understand, father. Why must I give him up?'
+
+'Why?' Dr. Ross could hardly believe his ears as he heard this. 'My
+child,' he said, with a touch of sternness, 'it is very easy to
+understand. Cyril is not to blame--he is as innocent as you are; but the
+son of Matthew O'Brien can never be my son-in-law.'
+
+'No,' she returned slowly, 'I suppose not. I ought not to be surprised
+to hear you say that.'
+
+'It is what any father would say, Audrey.'
+
+'Anyhow, it is for you to say it, if you think it right, and it is for
+me to obey you.'
+
+Then he put his arm round her with an endearing word or two. She was his
+good, obedient child--his dearly-loved daughter, who had never grieved
+him in her life.
+
+'I trust I may never grieve you,' she replied gently; but there was a
+great solemnity in her eyes. 'Father, if you tell me that I must not
+marry Cyril, I shall be compelled to obey you; but it will break my
+heart to think that your mind is fully made up on this point.'
+
+'My darling, you are both very young, and in time----' He stopped,
+arrested by the strangeness of her look.
+
+'You think that we shall get over it: that is your meaning, is it not?
+But I am afraid you are wrong. Cyril loves me too well; he would never
+get over it.'
+
+'But, my dear----'
+
+'Father, will you listen to me for a moment? You need not fear that I
+should ever disobey you--you are my father, and that is enough. But I
+shall live in the hope that you will change your mind.'
+
+'My child, I must forbid that hope. I cannot let you cheat yourself with
+any such false supposition. My mind will know no change in this matter.'
+
+'Then, in that case, I shall never marry Cyril. If you cannot give me
+your blessing on my marriage, I will remain as I am--Audrey Ross. But,
+father, I shall never give him up! Never--never!'
+
+'If Cyril be the man I think him, he will give you up, Audrey; he will
+be far too proud and honourable to hold you to your engagement.'
+
+'That may be,' she answered a little wearily. 'I know the strong
+pressure that will be put on him. You will have no difficulty with him;
+he will do as you wish. My poor Cyril! how can he do otherwise? But all
+the same, I shall be true to him as long as he and I live. I shall feel
+that I belong to him.'
+
+'But, my darling, do be sensible. When the engagement is broken off you
+will be free, utterly free.'
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+'I shall never be free while Cyril lives. Father, you do not understand.
+He may set me free to-morrow, but I shall still consider myself bound.
+When he comes here, I shall tell him so, and I do not think he will
+misunderstand me.'
+
+Dr. Ross sighed. Here was an unexpected difficulty. She would obey him,
+but she would regard herself as the victim of filial obedience. She
+would not marry her lover without his consent, but she would have
+nothing to say to any other man. She would consider herself fettered by
+this hopeless betrothal. He had declined to accept the son of Matthew
+O'Brien as his son-in-law; but would not his own death set her free to
+fulfil her engagement? Dr. Ross groaned within himself as he thought of
+this. If only he could bring her to reason; but at his first word of
+pleading her eyes filled with tears.
+
+'Father, I can bear no more; you have made me very unhappy. I have
+promised not to marry without your consent; but no one on earth could
+make me give him up.'
+
+Then he looked at her very sorrowfully, and said no more. If she had
+thrown herself into his arms he could almost have wept with her. Would
+she ever know how his heart bled for her? But she only kissed him very
+quietly.
+
+'You are not angry with me, father?'
+
+'Angry with you? Oh, Audrey, my child, how can you ask such a question?'
+
+'That is well,' she returned calmly. 'There must never be anything
+between us. I could not bear that.' Then her breast heaved a little, and
+a large tear stole down her face. 'Will you tell mother and Michael what
+I have said--that I will never give him up?'
+
+And then she walked very slowly out of the room.
+
+Half an hour later Michael came into the study. He did not speak; but
+the Doctor shook his head as he came silently towards him.
+
+'It is a bad business, Mike. That girl of mine will give us trouble. She
+is as good as gold, but she will give us trouble.'
+
+'She refuses to give him up?'
+
+Michael sat down as he asked the question; his strength seemed to have
+deserted him.
+
+'That is what she says--that she will regard herself as altogether bound
+to him. She is very firm. With all her goodness and sweetness, Audrey
+has a strong will.'
+
+'Do you mean that she will still marry him?'
+
+'Not unless I will give my consent. No, Mike; she is a dutiful child.
+She will never give herself to any man without her parents' blessing and
+approval; but she will not marry anyone else.'
+
+Then there was a curious fixed look on Michael's face.
+
+'I am not surprised, Dr. Ross. Audrey is too generous to forsake any man
+when he is in trouble. She will not think of herself--she never does;
+her whole heart will be set on the thought of giving him comfort. You
+must not try to change her resolution. It would be useless.'
+
+'The deuce take it all!' returned the Doctor irritably. 'For there will
+be no peace of mind for any of us, Mike.' But Dr. Ross's voice was
+hardly as clear as usual. 'I suppose I must just go and have it all out
+with Emmie--there is nothing like getting an unpleasant job over; she
+and Geraldine can put their heads together, but they had better keep
+Harcourt away from me.'
+
+And the Doctor stalked out of the room with an unwonted gloom on his
+genial face.
+
+Michael did not follow him. He sat still for a few minutes looking at
+the Doctor's empty chair.
+
+'I knew it; I could have said it. Audrey is just that sort of woman. She
+will never give him up--whether she loves him or not--as long as she
+feels he needs her. Poor Blake! poor fellow! Of the two, I hardly think
+he is the one to be pitied; but she will never find that out for
+herself. Never, never!'
+
+And then Booty scratched and whined at the door, and he got up and let
+him in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+'WHO WILL COMFORT HIM?'
+
+     'Earth has nothing more tender than a woman's heart, when it is the
+     abode of piety.'--LUTHER.
+
+
+Dr. Ross had deferred telling his wife for more than one reason: he
+dreaded the effect on her emotional nature, and, above all things, he
+hated a scene. But for once he was agreeably disappointed. Mrs. Ross
+received the news more quietly than he expected; the very suddenness and
+force of the shock made her summon up all her womanly fortitude to bear
+such an overwhelming misfortune. Her first thought was for Audrey, and
+she would have gone to her at once; but her husband gently detained her.
+
+'Give her time, Emmie; she has only just left me, and she will not be
+ready even for her mother. Sit down again, my dear; I cannot spare you
+yet.' And Mrs. Ross very reluctantly took her seat again on the couch.
+
+They talked a little more, and Mrs. Ross wept as she thought of that
+poor dear boy, as she called him; for Cyril had grown very dear to her,
+and she had begun to look on him as her own son. But it seemed as though
+the whole vial of her wrath was to be emptied on the head of Mrs. Blake.
+At any other time, and in different circumstances, Dr. Ross would have
+been amused at the scathing invectives that were uttered by his
+sweet-tempered wife.
+
+'But, my dear Emmie, you must consider her provocations. Think of a
+woman being tied to a feckless ne'er-do-well like Matthew O'Brien!'
+
+'Don't talk to me, John; I will not listen to you. Was she not his
+wedded wife, and the mother of his children? Had she not vowed to be
+faithful to him for better and for worse?'
+
+'Yes, my dear; but you must allow it was for worse.'
+
+'That may be; but she was bound to him all the same by her wifely duty.
+She might have saved him, but instead of that she has been his ruin. How
+dare any woman rob her husband of his own children, and forbid him to
+lay claim to them? She is a false, perjured wife!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross,
+with rising excitement.
+
+'My dear, I am not defending her; but at least she is to be pitied now.'
+
+'I do not think so. It is Cyril and Kester and Mollie who are to be
+pitied, for having such parents. My heart bleeds for them, but not for
+her. What will become of them all? How will that poor boy bear his
+life?'
+
+'I do not know. But, Emmie, tell me one thing--you agree with me that
+Audrey must not marry him?'
+
+'Of course she must not marry him! What would Geraldine and Percival
+say?'
+
+Then the Doctor muttered 'Pshaw!'
+
+'Why, his name is not Blake at all. How could a daughter of ours form a
+connection with the O'Briens? My poor Audrey! And now, John, you must
+let me go to her.' And this time Dr. Ross made no objection.
+
+It was nearly midnight by this time, but Audrey had not thought of
+retiring to bed; she was sitting by her toilet-table, with her hands
+folded in her lap. Her mother's appearance seemed to surprise her.
+
+'Dear mother, why have you come? There was no need--no need at all.'
+
+Then, as her mother put her arms round her, she laid her head on her
+shoulder as though she were conscious of sudden weariness. Mrs. Ross's
+eyes were red with weeping, but Audrey's were still quite bright and
+dry.
+
+'Mother dear, you will be so tired!'
+
+'What does that matter? It is your father who is tired; he feels all
+this so terribly. My own darling, what am I to say to you in this awful
+trouble that has come upon you, but to beg you to be brave for all our
+sakes?'
+
+'Yes; and for his, too.'
+
+'If I could only bear it for you--that is what a mother feels when her
+child suffers--if I could only take it from you, and carry it as my own
+burden!'
+
+Then the girl gently pressed her with her arms.
+
+'That is what I feel about him,' she returned, and there was a pained
+look in her eyes as she spoke. 'He is so young, and all this is so
+terrible; his pride will suffer, and his heart, and his mother will be
+no comfort to him. If he only had you!' And then she did break down a
+little, but she soon recovered herself. 'I have been sitting here trying
+to find out why this has been allowed to happen to him. I think there is
+no one so good, except Michael. It is very dreadful!' And here she
+shuddered slightly. 'How will he live out his daily life and not grow
+bitter over it? My poor, poor Cyril!'
+
+'My darling, are you not thinking of yourself at all?'
+
+'Of myself? No, mother. Why should I think of myself? I have you and
+father and Michael--you will all comfort me; but who will comfort him?'
+
+'His Heavenly Father, Audrey.'
+
+'Oh yes, you are right; but do young men think as we do? Cyril is good,
+but he never speaks of these things. He is not like Michael.'
+
+'It was trouble that taught Michael.'
+
+'Yes, I know; but I would fain have spared my poor Cyril such a bitter
+lesson. Mother, I want you to tell them all not to talk to me--I mean
+Michael and Gage and Percival; I could not bear it. As I told father, I
+shall never give him up. If he goes away, I must bid him good-bye; but
+if he will write to me I shall answer his letters.'
+
+'I do not think your father would approve of that, Audrey. My child,
+consider--would it not be better, and more for Cyril's good, that you
+should give him up entirely?'
+
+'No, mother; I do not think so. I believe in my heart that the knowledge
+that I am still true to him will be his only earthly comfort. No one
+knows him as I do; his nature is very intense. He is almost as intense
+as Michael, and that is saying a great deal.'
+
+'My love, will you let your mother say one thing to you?--that I think
+you are making a grievous mistake, and that your father thinks so too.'
+
+'I know it, mother, and it pains me to differ from you both in this; but
+you will never convince me. I plighted my troth to Cyril because I loved
+him dearly, and nothing will change that love. It is quite true,' she
+continued dreamily, as though she were following out some train of
+habitual thought, 'that I have often asked myself if I loved him in the
+same way in which other girls cared for their lovers--as Gage did for
+Percival, for example--if mine were not too quiet and matter-of-fact an
+attachment; and I have never been able to answer myself
+satisfactorily.'
+
+'Have you not, Audrey?'
+
+'No, mother dear; but of course this is in confidence: it must be sacred
+to you and me. I think I am different from most girls. I have never
+wished to be married; and dear as Cyril is to me, the thought of my
+wedding-day has always oppressed me. I have made him unhappy sometimes,
+because he saw that I shrank from it.'
+
+Mrs. Ross felt a quick sense of relief that almost amounted to joy. Was
+Audrey in love with him, after all? She had never heard a girl talk so
+strangely. What an unutterable blessing it would be to them all if she
+were not utterly crushed by her misfortune, and if any future healing
+would be possible; but she was careful not to express this to her
+daughter.
+
+'My experience has been very different,' she answered quietly. 'My
+happiest moments were those in which your dear father spoke of our
+future home. I think I was quite as averse to a long engagement as he
+was.'
+
+'I can believe it, mother dear, but our natures are not alike; but there
+is one thing on which we are agreed, that an engagement is almost as
+binding as marriage; that is,' correcting herself, 'as long as two
+persons love each other.'
+
+'It ought not to be binding under such circumstances, Audrey.'
+
+'Ought it not? Ah, there we differ! With all my want of enthusiasm, my
+absence of sentimentality, I shall hold fast to Cyril. I have never yet
+regarded myself as his wife; I did not wish to so regard myself. But now
+I shall give myself up in thought wholly to him, and I pray God that
+this knowledge will give him comfort.'
+
+Mrs. Ross was silent. She felt that she hardly understood her daughter;
+it was as though she had entered on higher ground, where the wrappings
+of some sacred mist enveloped her. This was not the language of earthly
+passion--this sublime womanly abnegation. It was not even the tender
+language of a Ruth, widowed in her affections, and cleaving with
+bounteous love and faith to the mother of her young Jewish husband,
+'Whither thou goest I will go;' and yet the inward cry of her heart
+seemed to be like that of honest Tom O'Brien: 'The Lord do so unto me,
+and more also, if ought but death part me and thee.'
+
+The one thought wholly possessed her that she might give him comfort.
+
+'My poor, dear child, if I could only make you feel differently!'
+
+Then Audrey laid her hand gently on her mother's lips. It was an old
+habit of hers when she was a child, and too much argument had proved
+wearisome.
+
+'Hush! do not let us talk any more. I am so tired, so tired, mother, and
+I know you are, too.'
+
+'Will you let me stay with you, darling?'
+
+Then Audrey looked at her trim little bed, and then at her mother, and
+smiled.
+
+'There is no room. What can you mean, mother dear? and I am not ill; I
+am never ill, am I?'
+
+'Thank God at least for that; but you are worse than ill--you are
+unhappy, my dear. Will you let me help you to undress, and then sit by
+you until you feel you can sleep?'
+
+But Audrey only shook her head with another smile.
+
+'There is no need. Kiss me, mother, and bid me good-night. I shall like
+to be with my own self in the darkness. There, another kiss; now go, or
+we shall both be frozen;' and Audrey gently pushed her to the door.
+
+'She would not let me stop with her, John!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross, as she
+entered her husband's dressing-room. 'She is very calm: unnaturally so,
+I thought; she hardly cried at all; she is thinking nothing of herself,
+only of him.'
+
+'Do you know it is one o'clock, Emmie?' returned her husband rather
+shortly. He was tired and sore, poor man, and in no mood to hear of his
+daughter's sufferings. 'The deuce take the woman!' he said to himself
+fretfully, as Mrs. Ross meekly turned away without another word; but he
+was certainly not alluding to his wife when he spoke. 'From the days of
+Eve they have always been in some mischief or other'--from which it may
+be deduced that Mrs. Ross was not so far wrong when she thought her
+husband was threatened with gout, only his _malaise_ was more of the
+mind. He was thinking of the interview that awaited him on the morrow.
+'I would as lief cut off my right hand as tell him that he must not have
+Audrey,' he said to himself, as he laid his head on the pillow.
+
+Now, as Michael lay awake through the dark hours revolving many things
+in his uneasy brain, it occurred to him that he would send a note across
+to Cyril as soon as he heard the household stirring, and he carried out
+this resolution in spite of drowsiness and an aching head.
+
+     'MY DEAR BLAKE,' he wrote,
+
+     'Don't bother yourself about early school. I am on the spot, and
+     can easily take your place. You will want to pull yourself
+     together, and under the circumstances the boys would be an awful
+     nuisance. I hope you have got some sleep.
+
+                                      'Yours,
+
+                                           'M. O. BURNETT.'
+
+To this came the following reply, scrawled on a half-sheet of paper:
+
+'Thanks awfully; will accept your offer. Please tell Dr. Ross that I
+will come across to him soon after ten.'
+
+'Poor beggar! he is awake now, and pulling himself together with a
+vengeance. This looks well; now for the grind.'
+
+And Michael went down to the schoolroom and gave Cyril's class their
+divinity lesson with as much coolness and gravity as though his whole
+life had been spent in teaching boys.
+
+Dr. Ross winced slightly as he gave him Cyril's message after breakfast,
+but he said, a moment afterwards: 'I intended sending for him; but I am
+glad he has saved me the trouble--only I wish it were over, Mike.'
+
+Michael shrugged his shoulders with a look of sympathy. He had no time
+to say more; he must take Cyril's place in the schoolroom again, in
+spite of all Booty's shivering solicitations for a walk this fine
+morning. 'Booty, old fellow,' he observed, as he noticed the little
+animal's manifest disappointment, 'you and I are not sent into the world
+to please ourselves; there are "still lame dogs to help over stiles,"
+and a few burdens to shift on our own shoulders. If our head ache, what
+of that, Booty? It will be the same a hundred years hence. Now for Greek
+verbs and general discord, so right about face!' And if Booty did not
+understand this harangue, he certainly acted up to the spirit of it, for
+he pattered cheerfully after his master to the schoolroom, and curled
+himself up into a compact brown ball at his feet, to doze away the
+morning in doggish dreams.
+
+Meanwhile, Dr. Ross made a feint of reading his letters; but he found as
+he laid them down that their contents were hopelessly involved. Was it
+Rawlinson, for example, whom an anxious mother was confiding to his
+care? 'He had the measles last holidays, and has been very delicate ever
+since, and now this severe cold----' Nonsense! It was not Rawlinson, it
+was Jackson minor, and he was all right and had eaten an excellent
+breakfast; but he thought Major Sowerby's letter ought to be answered at
+once. He never allowed parents to break his rules; it was such nonsense
+sending for Charlie home, just because an uncle had come from India. He
+must write and remonstrate; the boy must wait until the term was
+over--it would only be a fortnight. And then he read the letter again
+with growing displeasure, and found that Captain MacDonald was the name
+of the erring parent.
+
+'I will settle all that,' he remarked, as he plunged his pen rather
+savagely into the inkstand; and then a tap at the door made him start,
+and a huge blot was the result. Of course it was Cyril, who was standing
+at the door looking at him.
+
+'Are you disengaged, Dr. Ross?'
+
+'Yes--yes. Come in, my dear fellow, and shut the door.'
+
+And then Dr. Ross jumped up from his seat and grasped the young man's
+hand; but his first thought was, What would Audrey say when she saw him?
+Could one night have effected such a change? There was a wanness, a
+heaviness of aspect, that made him look ten years older. Somehow Dr.
+Ross found it necessary to take off his spectacles and wipe them before
+he commenced the conversation.
+
+'My poor boy, what am I to say to you?'
+
+'Say nothing, sir; it would be far better. I have come----' Here Cyril
+paused; the dryness of his lips seemed to impede his utterance. 'I have
+come to know your wishes.'
+
+'My wishes!' repeated Dr. Ross in a pained voice; and then he put his
+hand on his shoulder: 'Cyril, do not misjudge me, do not think me hard
+if you can help it, but I cannot give you my daughter.'
+
+He had expected that Cyril would have wrenched himself free from his
+detaining hand as he heard him, but to his surprise he remained
+absolutely motionless.
+
+'I know it, Dr. Ross. There was no need to tell me that--nothing would
+induce me to marry her.'
+
+Then the Doctor felt as though he could have embraced him.
+
+'Why should you think so meanly of me,' went on Cyril in the same heavy,
+monotonous voice, as though he were repeating some lesson that he had
+carefully conned and got by heart, 'as to suppose that I should take
+advantage of her promise and yours? If you will let me see her, I will
+tell her so. Do you think I would drag her down to my level--mine?'
+
+'You are acting nobly.'
+
+'I am acting as necessity compels me,' returned Cyril with
+uncontrollable bitterness. 'Do you think I would give her up, even at
+your command, Dr. Ross, if I dared to keep her? But I dare not--I dare
+not!'
+
+'Cyril, for my peace of mind, tell me this one thing--have I ever been
+unjust to you in all our relations together?'
+
+'No, Dr. Ross. I have never met with anything but kindness from you and
+yours.'
+
+'When you came to me five months ago and told me you loved my daughter,
+did I repulse you?'
+
+Then Cyril shook his head.
+
+'But I was very frank with you. I told you even then that I had a right
+to look higher for my son-in-law, but that, as you seemed necessary to
+my girl's happiness, your poverty and lack of influence should not stand
+in your way. When I said this, Cyril, when I stretched out the right
+hand of fellowship to you, I meant every word that I said. I was
+teaching myself to regard you as a son; as far as any man could do such
+a thing, I intended to take your future under my care. In all this I did
+you no wrong.'
+
+'You have never wronged me, sir,' and with a low but distinct emphasis:
+'God forbid that I should wrong either you or her.'
+
+'No! My heart was always full of kindness to you. Young as you
+were--young in years and in work--you had won my entire respect and
+esteem. I thank you, Cyril--I thank you in my own and in my wife's
+name--that I can respect you as highly as ever.'
+
+Dr. Ross's voice faltered with emotion, and the hand that still lay on
+Cyril's shoulder trembled visibly; but there was no answering gleam of
+emotion on the young man's face.
+
+'You mean it kindly, Dr. Ross, but I have not deserved this praise.' He
+spoke coldly, proudly. 'Have I an unsullied name to offer any woman? And
+even if this difficulty could be got over, do I not know that my career
+is over? Would you--would any other man, do you think--employ me as a
+master? I have been facing this question all night, and I know that, as
+far as my worldly prospects are concerned, I am practically ruined.'
+
+'No, no; you must not say that. There are plenty of openings for a
+clever man. You shall have my help. I will employ my influence; I have
+powerful friends. We might find you a secretaryship.'
+
+'I think a clerkship will be more likely,' returned Cyril, in the same
+hard voice, though the pent-up pain threatened to suffocate him. 'I may
+have some difficulty even there; people like their clerks to be
+respectably connected, and when one's father has been in prison----'
+
+But Dr. Ross would not let him proceed.
+
+'My poor boy, your father's sin is not yours. No one can rob you of your
+self-respect and stainless honour. If it were not for Audrey, I might
+even venture to brave public opinion and keep you myself. It might bring
+me into trouble with Charrington, but, as you know, I am my own master.
+I could have talked him over and got him to hush it up, and we could
+have moved your mother to a little distance. Yes, Cyril, I would have
+done it; you should have fought out your battle at my side, if it were
+not for my child.'
+
+'I do not know how to thank you for saying this;' and Cyril's rigidity
+relaxed and he spoke more naturally. 'I shall never forget this, Dr.
+Ross--never, never! But'--here his voice shook--'you will let me go--you
+will not make me stop when people begin to talk about it? I am no
+coward, but there are some things too hard to put on any man; and to do
+my work when I see on the boys' faces that they know everything--it
+would be the death of me. I could not stand it--no, by heavens! I could
+not.'
+
+'You shall not be asked to bear it. My poor boy, have you no faith in
+me? Do you think I should ask you to perform so cruel, so impossible a
+duty? From this hour you are free, Cyril; do not trouble about your
+work. I can find a substitute, or, if that fails, I will do your work
+myself. You are ill--it will be no falsehood to say that--and in another
+fortnight the school will break up. Keep quiet--go away somewhere for a
+time, and take Burnett into your confidence; he will be a better friend
+for you just now than I.'
+
+'I doubt it, sir.'
+
+Then the Doctor's eyes glistened with tears.
+
+'God help you, my dear fellow! You are doing the right, and He will.
+This is not good-bye; I will see you again. Now go to her, and teach my
+child to do the right too.' And then Dr. Ross turned his back upon him
+rather abruptly, and walked to the window.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+'YOU WILL LIVE IT DOWN'
+
+     'Sweet the thought, our lives, my love.
+       Parted ne'er may be,
+     Though between thy heart and mine
+       Leagues of land and sea.
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     Of this twofold life and love,
+       Twofold running fate,
+     Sad and lone we may be oft,
+       Never desolate.'
+
+                                BRITTON.
+
+
+Cyril knew where he should find Audrey; she was generally in her own
+little sitting-room until luncheon. Sometimes her mother or Mollie would
+be with her, but this morning he felt instinctively that she would be
+alone.
+
+She was sitting by the window, and there was some work on her lap, but
+she did not seem to be employing herself. She had bidden Cyril enter,
+and directly she saw him she rose from her seat and crossed the room
+somewhat quickly to meet him; but he did not at once speak to her,
+neither did he offer his usual greeting.
+
+She waited for a moment to see what he would do; then she put up her
+face to him.
+
+'Why do you not kiss me, Cyril?' she said, a little reproachfully; and
+then he did take her in his arms.
+
+'It is for the last time!' he murmured, as he pressed her almost
+convulsively to him.
+
+But she made no answer to this; when he had set her free, she took his
+hand very quietly, and led him to a seat that stood beside her chair.
+His hand was cold, and she kept it in both her own as though to warm it.
+
+'I knew you would come to me,' she said very softly. 'How ill you look,
+my poor Cyril! You have not slept. Oh yes, I know all about it. And you
+have been to father, and you have both made yourselves very miserable.
+Do you think I do not know that? Poor father! and he is so
+tender-hearted.'
+
+'I tried to spare him,' he returned wearily. 'I did not wish to put him
+to any trouble. I must dree my own weird, Audrey.'
+
+'But I shall have to dree it too. Cyril, my darling, you shall not bear
+your trouble alone; it is far too heavy for you. As far as we can--as
+far as our duty permits, we will bear it together.' And then, as though
+the haggardness of his young face was too much for her, she came closer
+to him, and laid her head on his shoulder. 'We will bear it together,
+Cyril.'
+
+'But, Audrey, my one blessing, that cannot be. Do you know what I have
+come to say to you this morning? That our engagement must be at an
+end--that you are free, quite free.'
+
+'But I do not wish for freedom.'
+
+'My darling, you ought to wish for it. Under the circumstances, it is
+quite impossible that we should ever be married. I am a ruined man,
+Audrey; I have lost my good name, my work, my worldly credit; my
+connections are disreputable. By this time you must know that I have a
+father living, and that his name----'
+
+But she gently checked him.
+
+'Yes, dear, I know all.'
+
+'And yet you can tell me that you do not desire freedom? But that is all
+your goodness, and because you do not wish to pain me. Audrey, when I
+tell you that I must give up the idea of ever calling you my wife, it
+seems to me as though the bitterness of death were on me.'
+
+'My poor Cyril!'
+
+'Yes, I am poor indeed; I never dreamt of such poverty. They might have
+taken from me everything, and I would not have murmured, if they had
+only left me my faith in my mother, and if they had not robbed me of my
+love!'
+
+'She is yours still, Cyril. No, do not turn from me; I mean it--I mean
+it! If you give me up, if you say to yourself that our engagement is
+broken, it must be as you choose, and I must let you go. No woman can
+compel a man to remain bound to her. But the freedom is on your side
+alone; I neither ask nor desire to be free.'
+
+'Darling, darling, what can you mean?'
+
+'If you say that you will never marry me,' she continued, with an air of
+deep sadness, 'I suppose you will keep your word; perhaps you are right
+in saying so. I would not marry you without my father's consent, and he
+tells me he will never give it; but, Cyril, you may rest assured of
+this, that in your lifetime I will never marry another man.'
+
+Then he threw himself at her feet, and, taking her hands in his, begged
+her for very pity's sake to stop.
+
+'I love you, Audrey! I think I never loved you before as I do now! but
+do you think I would permit such a sacrifice?'
+
+'How are you to help it?' she returned, with a faint smile that was very
+near tears; 'and it would be no sacrifice, as far as I know my own
+heart. I think my one wish is to comfort you, and to make your life a
+little less dreary, Cyril,' looking at him earnestly; and it seemed to
+him as though her face were like an angel's. 'You will be brave and bear
+this for my sake. When you are tempted to lose faith, and hope seems
+farthest from you, you must say to yourself: "Audrey has not deserted
+me; she is mine still--mine always and for ever!"'
+
+Then he bowed his head on her hands and wept like a child. She passed
+her hand over his hair caressingly, and her own tears flowed; but after
+a little while she spoke again:
+
+'I have told father so, and I have told mother; I said to both of them
+that I would never give you up. We may live apart. Oh yes, I know that
+it is all very sad and miserable; but you will let me keep your ring,
+Cyril, because I still belong to you.'
+
+He tried to steady his voice, and failed; all his manhood could not give
+him fortitude at such a moment. He could only clasp her in his arms, and
+beg her for her own sweet sake to listen to him.
+
+And presently, when he was a little stronger, he put it all before her.
+He explained to her as well as he could the future that lay before him;
+the yoke of his father's sin was on his neck, and it was useless to try
+and break it off. He might call himself Blake, and look for new work in
+a new place, and the miserable fact would leak out.
+
+There is a fatality in such cases, he went on. 'One may try to hush it
+up, to live quietly, to attract no notice; but sooner or later the
+secret will ooze out. I think I am prouder than most men--perhaps I am
+morbid; but I feel I shall never live down this shame.'
+
+'You will live it down one day.'
+
+'Yes, the day they put me in my coffin; but not before, Audrey.' Then,
+as she turned pale at the thought, he accused himself bitterly for his
+selfishness. 'I am making you wretched, and you are an angel of
+goodness!' he cried remorsefully. 'But you must forgive me, darling;
+indeed, I am not myself.'
+
+'Do you think I do not know that?'
+
+'A braver man than I might shrink from such a future. What have I done
+that such a thing should happen to me? I loved my work, and now it is
+taken from me; as far as I know, I may have to dig for my bread.'
+
+'No, no!' she returned, holding him fast; for this was more than she
+could bear to hear--that the bright promise of his youth was blasted and
+destroyed. 'Cyril, if you love me, as you say you do, will you promise
+me two things?'
+
+He looked at her a little doubtfully.
+
+'If I love you!' he said reproachfully.
+
+'Then I will alter my sentence, I will say, because of your love for me,
+will you grant me these two things? Cyril, you must forgive your mother.
+However greatly she has erred, you must remember that it was for your
+sake.'
+
+'I do remember it.'
+
+'And you will be good to her?'
+
+Then, his face became very stern.
+
+'I will do my duty to her. I think I may promise you that.'
+
+'Dearest, I do not doubt it. When have you ever failed in your duty? But
+I want more than that: you must try so that your heart may be softer to
+her; you are her one thought; with all her faults, I think no mother
+ever loved her son so well. It is not the highest love, perhaps, since
+she has stooped to deceit and wrong for your sake; but, Cyril, it is not
+for you to judge her.'
+
+'Perhaps not; but how am I to refrain from judging her? To me truth is
+the one absolute virtue--the very crown and chief of virtues. That is
+why I first loved you, Audrey--because of your trustworthiness. But now
+I have lost my mother--nay, worse, she has never existed!'
+
+'I do not quite understand you.'
+
+'Do you think my mother--the mother I believed in--could have acted this
+life-long lie? Would she have worn widows' weeds, and utterly forsworn
+herself? No; with all her faults, such crooked ways would have been
+impossible. Audrey, you must give me time to become acquainted with this
+new mother. I will not be hard to her, if I can possibly help it;
+but'--here the bitterness of his tone betrayed his deep agony--'she can
+never be to me again what she has been.'
+
+'Then I will not press you any more, Cyril. I have such faith in you,
+that I believe you will come through even this ordeal; but there is
+something more I must ask you: Will you let Michael be your friend?'
+
+'We are friends, are we not?' he said, a little bewildered at this.
+
+'Ah! but I would have you close friends. Dear, you must think of me--how
+unhappy I shall be unless I know you have someone to stand by you in
+your trouble. If you would let my father help you!' But a shake of the
+head negatived this. 'Well, then, it must be Michael, our good, generous
+Michael, who will be like a brother to you.'
+
+'I do not feel as though any man could help me.'
+
+'No one but Michael. Dear Cyril, give me my way in this. We are going to
+part, remember, and it may be for a long term of years; but if you value
+my peace of mind, promise me that you will not turn from Michael.'
+
+'Very well; I will promise you that. Have you any more commands to lay
+upon me, Audrey?'
+
+'No,' she returned wistfully; 'be yourself, your true, brave, honest
+self, and all may yet be well. Now go! We have said all that needs to be
+said, and I must not keep you. You are free, my dear one; but it is I
+who am bound, who am still yours as much as ever. When we shall meet
+again, God knows; but in heart and in thought I shall be with you
+wherever you may go. Now kiss me, but you need not tell me again it is
+for the last time.'
+
+Then she put her arms round his neck, and for a minute or two they held
+each other silently.
+
+'My blessing, my one blessing!' murmured Cyril hoarsely.
+
+Then she gently pushed him from her.
+
+'Yes, your blessing. You may call me that always, if you will.' And
+then, still holding his hand, she walked with him to the door; and as he
+stood looking at her with that despair in his eyes, she motioned to him
+to leave her. 'Go, dearest; I cannot bear any more.' And then he obeyed
+her.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few hours afterwards her mother found her lying on her bed, looking
+very white and spent.
+
+'Are you ill, Audrey? My dear, your father is so anxious about you, and
+so is Michael. When you did not appear at luncheon, they wanted me to go
+to you at once. Crauford says you have eaten nothing.'
+
+'Dear mother, what does that matter? I am quite well, only so very
+tired. My strength seemed to desert me all at once, so I thought I would
+lie down and keep quiet. But you must tell father that I am not ill.'
+
+'I shall tell him how good and brave you are,' returned her mother,
+caressing her; 'Audrey, did Crauford tell you that Geraldine is here?'
+
+Then a shadow passed over Audrey's pale face.
+
+'No, mother.'
+
+'She came up the moment luncheon was over to ask if you could go with
+her to Beverley, and of course she saw at once that something was amiss.
+Your father took her into the study and told her himself. She is very
+much upset. That is why I have left you so long.'
+
+'I did not know it was long,' returned Audrey, speaking in the same
+tired voice; 'it seems to me only a few minutes since Crauford took away
+the tray.'
+
+'It is nearly four o'clock,' replied Mrs. Ross, looking at her
+anxiously--could it be her bright, strong girl who was lying there so
+prostrate? 'Geraldine has been here nearly two hours. She sent her love
+to you, darling, and wanted so much to know if she could see you; but I
+shall tell her you are not fit to see anyone.'
+
+'I do not know that,' returned Audrey in a hesitating manner; 'I was
+just wishing that I could speak to Michael. If you had not come up, I
+think I should have put myself straight and gone downstairs. I think I
+may as well see Gage for a moment; it is better to get things over.'
+
+'But, Audrey, I am quite sure it would be wiser for you to keep quiet
+to-day; you have had such a terrible strain. Everyone ought to do their
+best to spare you.'
+
+'But I do not want to be spared,' returned Audrey, echoing her mother's
+sigh; 'so please send Gage to me, and tell her not to stop too long.
+Crauford can tell her when tea is ready.' And then Mrs. Ross left her
+very reluctantly.
+
+Geraldine's face was suffused with tears as she sat down beside the bed
+and took her sister's hand. Audrey shook her head at her.
+
+'Gage, I don't mean to allow this; you and mother are not to make
+yourselves miserable on my account.'
+
+'How are we to help it, Audrey?' replied Geraldine with a sob; 'I have
+never seen you look so ill in your life, and no wonder--this unhappy
+engagement! Oh, what will Percy say when I tell him?'
+
+'He will be very shocked, of course. Everyone will be shocked. Perhaps
+both he and you will say it serves me right, because I would not take
+your advice and have nothing to do with the Blakes. Gage, I want you to
+do me one favour: tell Percival not to talk to me. Give him my love--say
+anything you think best--only do not let him speak to me.'
+
+'He shall not, dearest; I will not let him. But all the same, he will
+grieve bitterly. He knows how bad it will be for you, and how people
+will talk. I have been telling mother that you ought to go away until
+things have blown over a little.'
+
+Audrey was silent. This was not the sympathy her sore heart needed.
+Geraldine's tact was at fault here; but the next moment Geraldine said,
+with manifest effort:
+
+'Cyril has behaved very well. Father seems very much impressed with his
+behaviour; he says that he offered at once to release you from your
+engagement.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Percy will say he has acted like a gentleman; that is the highest
+praise from him. Dear--dearest Audrey, you will not think that I am not
+sorry for you both when I say that this is a great relief to me?'
+
+'A relief to you that Cyril is free?'
+
+'Yes, and that you are free too.'
+
+'Ah, but I am not,' moving restlessly on her pillow. 'There you are
+making a mistake, Gage. I thought father would have told you. I am still
+engaged to Cyril; I shall always be engaged to him, although perhaps we
+shall never be married.'
+
+'But, Audrey----'
+
+'Now, Gage, we are not going to argue about it, I hope; I am far, far
+too tired, and my mind is made up, as I told father. I shall never give
+my poor boy up--never, never!--as long as he is in the world and needs
+me.' Then, as she saw the distress on her sister's face, she put her
+hand again into hers. 'You won't love me less for being so wilful, Gage?
+If anyone had asked you to give up Percival when you were engaged to
+him, do you think you would have listened?'
+
+'Is that not very different, darling?'
+
+'No; not so very different. Perhaps I do not love Cyril quite in the
+same way you loved Percival, our natures are so dissimilar; but, at
+least, he is very dear to me.'
+
+'Do you mean that you will break your heart because of this? Oh,
+Audrey!' and Geraldine's face was very sad.
+
+'No, dear; hearts are not so easily broken, and I do not think that mine
+would be so weak and brittle. But the thought of his sorrow will always
+be present with me, and, in some sense, I fear my life will be clouded.'
+
+Then her sister caressed her again with tears.
+
+'But it will not be as bad for me as for him; for I shall have you all
+to comfort me, and I know how good you will all be. You will be ready to
+share even your child with me, Gage, if you think that will console me.'
+
+'Yes; and Percival will be good to you, too.'
+
+'I am sure of that; only you must ask him not to speak to me. Now I am
+very tired, and I must ask you to leave me. Go down to mother, dear
+Gage.'
+
+But it seemed as though Geraldine could hardly tear herself away.
+
+'I will do anything, if only you will promise to be happy again,' she
+said, kissing her with the utmost affection. 'Remember how necessary you
+are to us. What would any of us do without you? To-morrow I shall bring
+your godson to see you.'
+
+Then, at the thought of her baby-nephew, a faint smile crossed Audrey's
+face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+MICHAEL ACCEPTS HIS CHARGE
+
+     'Try how the life of the good man suits thee: the life of him who
+     is satisfied with his portion out of the whole, and satisfied with
+     his own just acts and benevolent disposition.'--M. AURELIUS
+     ANTONINUS.
+
+
+Michael's morning in the schoolroom had been truly purgatorial;
+fortunately for him, it was a half-holiday, and the luncheon-hour set
+him free from his self-imposed duties. On his way to his own room, he
+had overheard Geraldine's voice speaking to her father, and he at once
+guessed the reason why Dr. Ross had invited her into the study.
+
+He had never been less enamoured of solitude and of his own society;
+nevertheless, he told himself that any amount of isolation would be
+preferable to the penalty of hearing Geraldine discuss the matter. He
+could hear in imagination her clear sensible premises and sound, logical
+conclusion, annotated by womanly lamentations over such a family
+disaster. The probable opinions of Mrs. Bryce and Mrs. Charrington would
+be cited and commented on, and, in spite of her very real sympathy with
+her sister, Michael shrewdly surmised that the knowledge that the Blake
+influence was waning would give her a large amount of comfort in the
+future.
+
+When Crauford announced that the ladies were having tea in the
+drawing-room, he begged that a cup might be sent up to him.
+
+'Will you tell Mrs. Harcourt that I have a headache?' he said; and, as
+Crauford delivered the message, Geraldine looked meaningly at her
+mother.
+
+'I expect Michael has taken all this to heart,' she said, as soon as
+Crauford had left the room; 'he is very feeling, and then he is so fond
+of Audrey.' And as Mrs. Ross sighed in assent, she went on with the
+topic that was engrossing them at that moment--how Audrey was to be
+induced to leave home for a while.
+
+Michael's table was strewn with books, and one lay open on his knee, but
+he had not once turned the page. How was he to read when the very
+atmosphere seemed charged with heaviness and oppression?
+
+'She thinks that she loves him, and therefore she will suffer,' he said
+to himself over and over again; 'and it will be for the first time in
+her life; for she has often told me that she has never known trouble.
+But her suffering will be like a grain of sand in comparison with his.
+Oh, I know what he is feeling now! To have had her, and then to have
+lost her! Poor fellow! it is a cruel fate.'
+
+Michael pondered drearily over the future that lay before them all. How
+was he to bear himself, he wondered, under circumstances so
+exasperating? She was free, and he knew her to be free--for Cyril would
+never claim her--and yet she would regard herself as altogether bound.
+
+He must go away, he thought; not at once--not while she needed him--but
+by and by, when things were a little better. Life at Rutherford was no
+longer endurable to him; for months past, ever since her engagement, he
+had chafed under a sense of insupportable restlessness. A sort of fever
+oppressed him--a longing to be free from the influence that dominated
+him.
+
+'If I stay here I must tell her how it is with me, and that will only
+make her more miserable,' he thought. 'She is not like other women--I
+never saw one like her. There is something unreasonable in her
+generosity. Girls sometimes say things they do not mean, and then repent
+of their impulsiveness; but she will never repent, whether she loves him
+or not. She believes that it is her mission to comfort him. Perhaps, if
+I had appealed to her, I might have made her believe that she had a
+different mission. Oh, my dear, if it only could have been so!'
+
+And he sighed in the bitterness of his spirit; for he knew that in his
+unselfishness he had never wooed her.
+
+At that moment there was a light tap at his door, and he started to his
+feet with a quick exclamation of surprise as Audrey entered. He had been
+thinking of her at that moment, and he almost felt as though the
+intensity of his thoughts had attracted her by some unconscious
+magnetism; but a glance at her dispelled this illusion.
+
+She was dressed for dinner, and he noticed that there was an air of
+unusual sombreness about her attire, as though she felt that any gaiety
+of apparel would be incongruous. And as she came closer to him, he was
+struck with her paleness and the sadness in her large gray eyes.
+
+'Michael,' she said, in a low voice, 'I want to speak to you. I hope I
+am not interrupting you.'
+
+'You never interrupt me,' he returned quickly. 'Besides, I am doing
+nothing. Sit down, dear, and then we shall talk more comfortably.' For
+he noticed that she spoke with an air of lassitude that was unusual to
+her, and her strong lithe figure swayed a little, as though with
+weakness.
+
+'Do you think you should be here?' he asked, with grave concern. 'You
+look ill, Audrey, as though you ought to be resting in your own room.'
+
+'I have been resting,' she replied gently. 'And then Gage came to me,
+and after that I thought I had been idle long enough. Michael,'--and
+here her lips quivered as though she found it difficult to maintain her
+self-control--'you know all that has happened. Cyril has gone away--he
+has said good-bye to me--and he looks as though his heart were broken. I
+have done what I could to comfort him. I have told him that I shall
+always be true to him; but it is not in my power to help him more.'
+
+'Dear Audrey,' he said--for he understood her meaning well, and there
+was no need for her to speak more plainly--'it was not for me to go to
+him after such a parting as that. The presence of one's dearest friend
+would be intolerable.'
+
+'I did not mean to-day,' she returned sadly; 'but there is to-morrow,
+and there is the future. And he has no friend who is worthy of the name.
+Michael, there is no one in the whole world who could help him as you
+could. This is the favour I have come to ask you.'
+
+'It is granted, Audrey.'
+
+Then her eyes were full of tears as he said this.
+
+'Oh, I knew you would not refuse! When have you ever refused to do a
+kindness for anyone? Michael, I told my poor boy to-day that if he
+valued my peace of mind he would consent to be guided by your advice. He
+is so young; he does not know the world as you do, and he is so terribly
+unhappy; but if you would only help him----'
+
+'My dear,' he said very quietly, 'there is no need to distress yourself,
+or to say any more; we have always understood each other without words.
+You are giving me this charge because you are unable to fulfil it
+yourself. You wish me to be a good friend to poor Blake, to watch over
+him and interest myself in his welfare--that is, as far as one man will
+permit another to do so. Well, I can promise you that without a moment's
+hesitation. I will be as solicitous for him as though he were my
+brother. Will that content you?'
+
+But he could not easily forget the look of gratitude that answered him.
+
+'God bless you, Michael! I will not try to thank you. Perhaps some
+day----'
+
+She stopped as though unable to say more.
+
+'Oh,' he said lightly, and crushing down some dangerous emotion as he
+spoke, 'I have done nothing to deserve thanks. Even if you had not asked
+me this, do you think I would have gone on my own way, like the Levite
+in the parable, and left that poor fellow to shift for himself? No, my
+dear, no; I am not quite so flinty-hearted. Unless Blake will have none
+of my help--unless he absolutely repulse me--I will try as far as lies
+in my power to put him on his feet again.'
+
+'He will not repulse you; I have his word for that. Ah! there is the
+dinner-bell, and I have not said all that I wanted. The day seems as
+though it would never end, and yet there is time for nothing.'
+
+'You will not come downstairs, Audrey? Let me ask your mother to excuse
+you. See! you can stay in this room; I can clear the table and put
+things ship-shape for you.'
+
+Then she looked at him with the same air of innocent surprise with which
+she had regarded her mother the previous night, when she had asked to
+remain with her.
+
+'Why do you all treat me as though I were an invalid?' she said
+protestingly. 'I am not ill, Michael. What does it matter where one eats
+one's dinner? It is true I am not hungry, but there is father--why
+should I make him uncomfortable? We must think of other people always,
+and under all circumstances.'
+
+She seemed to be saying this to herself more than to him, as though she
+would remind herself of her duty. Michael said no more, but as he
+followed her downstairs he told himself that no other girl could have
+borne herself so bravely and so sweetly under the circumstances.
+
+He wondered at her still more as he sat opposite to her at table, and
+saw the quiet gravity with which she took her part in the conversation.
+She spoke a word or two about her sister, and mentioned of her own
+accord that she had promised to bring Leonard to see her the next day.
+
+'I do not mean to call him baby,' she said; 'he is far too important a
+personage. Did you hear nurse speak of him as Master Baby the other day?
+I think Gage must have given her a hint about it.'
+
+And then she listened with an air of interest as her mother related a
+little anecdote that recurred to her memory of Geraldine's babyhood.
+
+But he saw her flush painfully when Mrs. Ross commented on her want of
+appetite.
+
+'You have eaten nothing to-day, Crauford tells me,' she continued
+anxiously.
+
+Audrey shook her head.
+
+'One cannot always be hungry, mother dear,' she said gently; but it was
+evident that her mother's kindly notice did not please her.
+
+And she seemed still more distressed when her father once rose from his
+place to give her some wine.
+
+'Why do you do that?' she asked, with a touch of impatience. 'It is not
+for you to wait on me, father. Michael would have filled my glass quite
+easily.'
+
+'You are paying me a very bad compliment, Audrey,' returned Dr. Ross
+with a smile. 'You are telling me that I am too much of an old fogey to
+wait on ladies. Mike is the younger man, of course, and if you should
+prefer that he should help you to madeira----'
+
+'No, father, it is not that; but it is for me to wait on you. You must
+never, never do that for me again.'
+
+And somehow Dr. Ross seemed to have no answer ready as he went back to
+his chair.
+
+But when she was alone with her mother she spoke still more plainly.
+Mrs. Ross had persuaded her to take the corner of the couch; but as she
+stood by her manipulating the cushions and adjusting them more
+comfortably, Audrey turned round quickly and took hold of her hands.
+
+'Mother, do please sit down. I think you have all entered into a
+conspiracy to-night to kill me with kindness.'
+
+'We are so sorry for you, darling.'
+
+'Perhaps I am sorry for myself; but is that any reason why I should be
+treated as though I had lost the use of my limbs? I want you to behave
+to me as usual; it will be far better for me and you too. Why did not
+father and Michael talk politics, instead of making little
+cut-and-dried speeches that seemed to fit into nothing?'
+
+'I daresay they found it very difficult to talk at all under the
+circumstances.'
+
+'That sounds as though I had better have remained upstairs, as Michael
+suggested; indeed, I must do so if you will persist in regarding me as
+the skeleton at the feast.'
+
+'My darling child, how you talk! Surely you will allow your parents to
+share your sorrow?'
+
+'No, mother; that is just what I cannot allow; no one shall be burdened
+with my troubles. Listen to me, mother dear: I think people make a great
+mistake about this; they mean to be kind, but it is not true kindness;
+they are ready to give everything--sympathy, watchfulness,
+attention--but they withhold the greatest gift of all, the freedom, the
+solitude, for which the sufferer craves.'
+
+'Do you mean that we are to leave you alone, Audrey? Oh, my dear, this
+is a hard saying for a mother to hear!'
+
+'But it is not too hard for my mother,' returned Audrey caressingly.
+'Yes, I would have you leave me alone until I recover myself. I would be
+treated as you have always treated me, and not as though I were a maimed
+and sickly member of the flock. Neither would I be reminded every moment
+of the day that any special hurt has come to me.'
+
+'And I am not to ask you even to rest yourself?'
+
+'No, not even that. I would rather a thousand times that you gave me
+some work or errand. Mother dear,' and here her voice was very sad, 'I
+will not deny that this is a great trouble, and that my life will not be
+as easy and as happy as it used to be. The shadow of my poor boy's
+sorrow will be a heavy burden for me to bear; but we must ask God to
+lighten it for both of us. I tell you this to-night because you are my
+own dear mother, and such confidence is your due; but after to-night I
+shall not say it again. If you and father wish to help me, it will be by
+allowing me to feel that I am still your comfort;' and then she threw
+herself in her mother's arms. 'Tell father this,' she whispered, 'and
+ask him to give me time. One day, perhaps, I shall be more like my old
+self; but we must wait: it is too soon to expect much of me yet.'
+
+'I will tell your father you are our good, dear child, Audrey, and you
+shall have your way.'
+
+'Thank you; I knew you would understand. After all, there is no one like
+one's mother.' And then she sighed, and Mrs. Ross knew where her
+thoughts had wandered. 'Now, for this one evening, I will take your
+advice and rest. I will go up to my room now; but to-morrow'--she
+stopped, and then said firmly--'to-morrow everything shall be as usual.'
+And then she gave her cheek to her mother's kiss, and went up to her
+room.
+
+Michael did not make his appearance in the drawing-room that night. To
+Booty's secret rapture, he put on his great-coat, and went out into the
+chill darkness. He had much to consider; and it was easier to make his
+plans under the dim March starlight. A difficult charge had been given
+him, and he had not shrunk from it; on the contrary, he had felt much as
+some knight in the olden times must have felt when his liege lady had
+given him some hazardous work or quest. To be sure, there was no special
+guerdon attached to it; but a man like Michael Burnett does not need a
+reward: if he could only give Audrey peace of mind, he would ask no
+other reward.
+
+He made up his mind that he would go to Cyril the next morning, and he
+thought he knew what he should say to him. He and Dr. Ross had talked
+matters over after dinner. Dr. Ross had already suggested a
+substitute--a young Oxford man, who was staying at the Vicarage, and who
+was on the look-out for a mastership.
+
+'I told Cyril that he had better discontinue his work,' he went on. 'If
+it were not for Audrey, he could have made some sort of shift, and kept
+on until the holidays; but it would never do to run the risk of another
+scene between them: it would be bad for her, and it would be terrible
+for him. It is an awkward complication, Mike; it would be better to get
+him away as soon as possible.' And to this Michael assented.
+
+He went round to the Gray Cottage soon after breakfast. Audrey was
+watering her flowers in the hall. She looked at him as he passed her,
+but did not speak; of course, she guessed his errand, for he saw her
+head droop a little over the flowers.
+
+Mollie received him. The poor girl's eyes were swollen with crying, and
+she looked up in his face very piteously, as he greeted her with his
+usual kindness.
+
+'Where is your brother, Mollie?'
+
+'Do you mean Cyril? He is in his room; but no one has seen him. Oh,
+Captain Burnett, is it true? Mamma has been saying such dreadful
+things, and we do not know whether we are to believe her. Biddy tries to
+hush her, but she will go on talking; she is quiet now, and Kester and I
+crept down here. Ah, there is Kester looking at us; he wants you to go
+in and speak to him.'
+
+'Is it true?' were Kester's first words when he saw his friend. The poor
+lad's lips were quivering. 'Oh, Captain Burnett, do tell us that it is
+not true!'
+
+'I cannot do that, my boy,' returned Michael gravely; and then he sat
+down and listened to what they had to tell him. He soon found that the
+mother's wild ravings had told them the truth. In her despair at being
+refused admittance to her son's room, she had given way to a frantic
+outburst of emotion. Biddy had tried to get rid of them, but Kester and
+Mollie had remained, almost petrified with horror. What could their
+mother mean by telling them that she hated the sight of them, and
+adjuring them to go to their father?
+
+'Father is dead; does she wish us to be dead, too?' Mollie had faltered.
+'Dear mamma, do let me go and fetch Cyril! You are ill; you do not know
+what you are saying!' But as she turned to go, her mother had started
+up, and gripped her arm so fiercely that the poor child could have
+screamed with pain.
+
+'Yes, you shall fetch him, but he will not come; he will not listen to
+you any more than he would to me. When I implored him on my knees to
+open the door, he said that he was ill, and that he could not speak to
+me. But was I not ill, too? If I were dying he would not come to me! and
+yet he is my son!'
+
+'Dear mamma! oh, dear mamma! do you know how you are hurting me?'
+
+'No; it is he who is hurting me: he is killing me--absolutely killing
+me!--because I kept from him that his father was alive! Did I not do it
+for his sake--that he should not be shamed by such a father? Go to him,
+Mollie; tell him that you know all about it, and that Audrey Ross will
+have nothing to say to him, because he is the son of a felon. Why are
+you staring at me? Go! go!' And she pushed her from her so roughly that
+Mollie would have fallen if Biddy had not caught her.
+
+'Go, Miss Mollie, or you will drive her crazy with your big eyes and
+frightened face. Whist! don't heed the mistress's wild talk; it is never
+the truth she is telling you.'
+
+But Mrs. Blake had interrupted the old woman; her eyes were blazing with
+angry excitement:
+
+'Where do you expect to go, Biddy, if you tell Mollie such lies? You are
+a wicked old woman! You have helped me to do all this mischief! Would
+you dare to tell me to my face that I am not the wife of Mat O'Brien?'
+
+'Sorra a bit, Miss Olive; you are the widow of that honest man Blake.
+Heaven rest his soul!' returned the old woman doggedly. 'We must be
+having the doctors to you, Miss Olive avick, if you tell us these wild
+stories.'
+
+'Biddy, you are a false, foolish old creature! and it is you who are
+driving me out of my sane senses.'
+
+But at this point Mollie fairly fled.
+
+'Did you see your brother?' asked Michael, as she stopped to dry her
+eyes. Kester had never uttered a word; he left Mollie to tell her own
+story, and sat leaning his head on his hands. For once Mollie's
+loquacity was suffered unchecked.
+
+'It was dark, and I could not see him; it was quite late, you
+know--nearly twelve o'clock. He came out and listened to me; but the
+passage and the room were quite dark.
+
+'"Go down, Mollie," he said, "and tell my mother that I cannot speak to
+her to-night. It is quite impossible; she ought not to expect it."
+
+'"But she is ill, Cyril--I am sure she is dreadfully ill; her eyes look
+so strange, and she is saying such things!"
+
+'"Biddy will take care of her; if she needs a doctor, you must go for
+one. But nothing on earth would induce me to see her to-night." And then
+he went back into his room and locked the door.'
+
+'Poor Mollie!'
+
+'Oh, that was nothing to what came afterwards. Would you believe it,
+Captain Burnett?--mamma had heard every word. When I left Cyril, I found
+her crouching on the stairs in a dark corner. Oh, I shall never forget
+the turn it gave me! She had got her arms over her head, and they seemed
+quite stiff, and her fingers were clenched. Biddy was crying over her;
+but she did not move or speak, and it was quite an hour before we could
+get her into her own room.'
+
+'You ought to have sent for the doctor.'
+
+'Biddy would not let us; she said it was only sorrow of heart, and that
+she had seen her once before like that, when her husband died. What
+makes Biddy say that, Captain Burnett, if our father be still living?'
+
+Michael shook his head.
+
+'Biddy chooses to persist in her falsehood. I have seen your father,
+Mollie. I am very sorry for him; with all his faults, he loves his
+children.' Then a low sound like a groan escaped Kester's lips. 'And I
+think his children should be sorry for him, too; he has had a hard,
+unhappy life. But there is no time to talk of this now; I want you to
+finish about last night, and then I must go upstairs.'
+
+'There is nothing more to tell. We could not induce mamma to undress or
+to go to bed, so Biddy covered her up and told me to go away. She was
+with her all night. With all her crossness and tiresome ways, Biddy is
+always good to mamma; she was talking to her almost as though she were a
+baby, for I stood and listened a minute before I closed the door. I
+could hear her say:
+
+'"Miss Olive avick, what was the good of telling the children? You
+should hush it up for Mr. Cyril's sake, and for the sake of the dear
+young lady he is going to marry." But he is not going to marry her;
+mamma said so more than once.'
+
+And then, in a few grave words, Michael told them all that it was
+necessary for them to know.
+
+'Poor, poor Cyril! Oh, my dear Miss Ross!' was all Mollie could say.
+Kester seemed nearly choking.
+
+'Let me go to him, dear Mollie. But I think I will see your mother
+first. Biddy seems to be a bad adviser. After all, she may require a
+doctor.'
+
+And then he put his hand on Kester's shoulder and whispered something
+into his ear. Mollie could not hear what it was, but she saw the boy's
+face brighten a little as he took up Booty to prevent him from following
+his master.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+'THERE SHALL BE PEACE BETWEEN US'
+
+     'Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them, then, or bear
+     with them.'
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     'When a man has done thee any wrong, immediately consider with what
+     opinion about good or evil he has done wrong; for when thou hast
+     seen this thou wilt pity him, and wilt neither wonder nor be
+     angry.'--M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.
+
+
+Biddy was hovering about the passage, as usual. She regarded Michael
+with marked disfavour when he asked if he could see her mistress. In her
+ignorant way, she had arrived at the conclusion that the Captain was at
+the bottom of the mischief.
+
+'Why couldn't he leave things to sort themselves?' she grumbled within
+herself. 'But men are over-given to meddling; they mar more than they
+make.'
+
+'My mistress is too ill to see anyone,' she returned shortly.
+
+'Do you mean that she is in her own room?' he asked.
+
+But even as he put the question, he could answer it for himself. The
+door of the adjoining room was wide open, and he was certain that it was
+empty.
+
+'Sick folk do not always stop in their beds,' retorted Biddy still more
+sourly; 'but for all that, she is not fit to see visitors.'
+
+She squared her skinny elbows as she spoke, as though prepared to bar
+his entrance; but he looked at her in his quiet, authoritative way.
+
+'She will see me, Biddy. Will you kindly allow me to pass?' And the old
+woman drew back, muttering as she did so.
+
+But he was obliged to confess that Biddy was right as he opened the
+door, and for a moment he hesitated on the threshold.
+
+Mrs. Blake was half sitting, half lying on the couch in a curiously
+uneasy position, as though she had flung herself back in some sudden
+faintness; her eyes were closed, and the contrast between the pale face
+and dark dishevelled hair was very striking; her lips, even, were of the
+same marble tint. He had always been compelled to admire her, but he had
+done so in grudging fashion; but now he was constrained to own that her
+beauty was of no mean order. An artist would have raved over her; she
+would have made a model for a Judith or a Magdalene.
+
+As he stood there with his hand on the door, she opened her eyes and
+looked at him; but she did not change her attitude or address him.
+
+Michael made up his mind that he must speak to her.
+
+'I am sorry to see you look so ill, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+He took her hand as he spoke; it felt weak and nerveless. But she drew
+it hastily away, and her forehead contracted.
+
+'Of course I am ill.'
+
+'I hope Biddy has sent for a doctor; I think you should see one without
+delay.'
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+'No doctor would do me any good. I would not see him if he came.'
+
+Michael was silent; he hardly knew how he was to treat her. Mollie's
+graphic account of the scene last night had greatly alarmed him. Mrs.
+Blake was of a strangely excitable nature; he had been told that from
+her youth she had been prone to fits of hysterical emotion. She was
+perfectly unused to self-control, and only her son had ever exercised
+any influence over her. Was there not a danger, then, that, the barriers
+once broken down, she might pass beyond her own control? He had heard
+and had read that ungovernable passion might lead to insanity; he almost
+believed it, as he listened to Mollie's story. This is why he had
+insisted on seeing her. He must judge of her condition for himself; he
+must do his best to prevent the recurrence of such a scene. And now, as
+he saw her terrible exhaustion and the dim languor in her eyes, he told
+himself that something must be done for her relief.
+
+'If you send one, I will not see him,' she went on.
+
+'I think you are wrong. For your children's sake you ought to do your
+best to throw off this illness that oppresses you.'
+
+But she interrupted him.
+
+'Why are you here this morning? Are you going to him?' she asked
+abruptly.
+
+'Yes, certainly; that is, if he will see me.'
+
+'He will see you. He would not refuse anyone who came from Woodcote.
+Captain Burnett, will you tell me this one thing: has that girl given
+him up?'
+
+Michael hesitated.
+
+'Your son has broken off his engagement with Miss Ross. He felt he could
+not do otherwise.'
+
+'You are not answering me straight. I do not want to hear about Cyril;
+of course he would offer to release her. But has Miss Ross consented to
+this?'
+
+'No,' he returned reluctantly, for it pained him to enter on this
+subject with her; 'she has refused to be set free. As far as your son is
+concerned, the engagement is broken; but my cousin declares her
+intention of remaining faithful to him.'
+
+'I knew it--I knew it as well as though you had told me,' returned Mrs.
+Blake with strong emotion; 'Audrey Ross is not the girl to throw a man
+over. Oh! I love her for this. She is a darling, a darling,
+but'--relapsing into her old melancholy--'they will never let her marry
+him--never, never!'
+
+'I am afraid you are right.'
+
+'No, he is doomed; my poor boy is doomed. If you see him, what is there
+that you can say to comfort him?'
+
+'I shall not try to comfort him. I shall bid him do his duty. Comfort
+will come to him in no other way.'
+
+'Shall you speak to him of me?'
+
+'Yes, certainly. If I have any influence, I shall bring him to you
+before an hour is over.'
+
+Then she caught his hand and the blood rushed to her face.
+
+'God bless you for this!' she whispered. 'Go; do not keep me waiting.
+Go, for Heaven's sake!'
+
+'You must promise me one thing first: that you will control yourself.
+Think of him, of the day and the night he has passed. He will not be fit
+for any scene. If you reproach him, you will only send him from you
+again.'
+
+'I will promise anything--everything--if you will only bring him.' And
+now her eyes were wet; it seemed as though he had given her new life.
+She sat erect; she was no longer like a marble image of despair. 'If I
+can only see him, if he will let me speak to him! but it is this
+emptiness--this blank, this dreadful displeasure--that is shutting me
+out from him, that is killing me by inches.'
+
+And here she put her hand to her throat, as though the words suffocated
+her.
+
+'Be calm and quiet, and all may yet be well,' he returned in a soothing
+voice; 'I will do what I can for you and him too.' And with a reassuring
+look he left her.
+
+What had become of his dislike? He felt he no longer disliked her. She
+was false--falser than he had thought any woman could be; she had
+qualities that he detested, faults that he, of all men, was most ready
+to condemn; but the one spark of goodness that redeemed her in his eyes
+was her love for her son.
+
+He knocked somewhat lightly at Cyril's door, but there was no answer;
+but as he repeated it more loudly, Cyril's voice impatiently demanded
+his business.
+
+'It is I--Burnett. Will you let me speak to you a moment, Blake?'
+
+And then the door was unlocked, and Cyril stood aside to let him enter;
+but he uttered no greeting, neither did Michael at once offer his hand.
+He threw a hasty glance round the room as Cyril relocked the door; the
+bed had not been slept in that night--that was plainly evident--but the
+crushed pillow and the rug flung across the foot proved clearly that he
+had thrown himself down fully dressed when weariness compelled him.
+
+He had evidently only just completed his toilet: the shirt he had thrown
+aside was still on the floor, in company with his bath towels; and
+something in his appearance made Michael say: 'You were just going out.
+I hope I am not keeping you?'
+
+'There is no hurry,' returned Cyril indifferently; 'I was only going out
+because I could not stop indoors any longer; but there is plenty of time
+between this and night.' And then he offered Michael the only chair, and
+sat down on the bed. 'This place is not fit for you,' he continued
+apologetically; 'but there is nowhere else where one can be quiet.'
+
+'You are looking ill, Blake. I am afraid you have not slept.'
+
+For there was a sunken look in Cyril's eyes that told its own tale.
+
+'I had some sleep towards morning,' he replied, as though the matter did
+not concern him; 'and I dreamt that I was in purgatory. It was not a
+pleasant place, but I believe I was rather sorry when I woke. It is very
+good of you to look me up, Burnett.' And here he paused, and then said
+in a changed voice: 'Will you tell me how she is?'
+
+'You mean my cousin? She is as well as one can expect her to be; but, of
+course, all this has been a terrible upset. She is very good and brave.
+She knows I have come to you.'
+
+'Did she send you?'
+
+'I suppose I must say yes to that; but I had fully intended to come.
+Blake, I want you to look on me as a friend. You need someone to stand
+by you, and see you through this; and I think there is no one so
+suitable as myself at the present.'
+
+'You are very good; but I can have no possible claim on you, Captain
+Burnett.'
+
+Cyril spoke a little stiffly.
+
+'If you put it in that way, perhaps not; in this sense, a shipwrecked
+sailor has no claim on the man who holds out a helping hand to him; but
+I doubt whether that reason would induce him to refuse it.'
+
+Then a faint smile came to Cyril's dry lips.
+
+'You are right to choose that illustration. I think no man in the world
+has ever suffered more complete shipwreck. I have been trying to face my
+position all night, and I cannot see a gleam of hope anywhere.'
+
+'You must not lose heart, Blake.'
+
+'Must I not? I think anyone would lose heart and faith, and hope, too,
+in my position. Two days ago no future could have been so bright; I had
+everything--everything that a man needs for his happiness; and at this
+moment no beggar could be poorer. I feel as though I had no bread to
+eat, and as though I should never have appetite for bread again.'
+
+'I understand what you mean. I had the same sort of feeling as I lay in
+the hospital. I was covered with wounds; health was impossible; my work
+was gone. I could not face my life. Would you believe it, Blake?--I was
+the veriest coward, and could have trembled at my own shadow. It made a
+woman of me. I did not want to live such a crippled, meagre existence;
+but somehow I managed to struggle to the light.'
+
+'Did anyone help you?'
+
+'No, not consciously; I helped myself. At least'--in a lower
+voice--'the help that came to me was from a higher source. One day I
+will tell you about it, Blake; it was an awful crisis in a man's life,
+and I should not speak about it unless I thought my experience could
+benefit anyone. Now about yourself--have you formed any plans?'
+
+'None; but I must get away from here.'
+
+'I can understand that perfectly; and I must say that I think you are
+right. Dr. Ross and I were speaking about you yesterday; he is deeply
+grieved at the idea of parting with you so abruptly. He says, under any
+other circumstances (he was thinking of his daughter when he spoke) that
+it would have been well for you to go on with your work as usual--the
+change could have been made after the holidays--but he fears now that
+this is hardly possible. I am sure you will not misunderstand him.'
+
+'No; he has decided quite rightly.'
+
+'He will give you a testimonial of which any man may be proud. He told
+me with tears in his eyes that he never knew anyone so young with so
+great a moral influence; that your work was at all times excellent, and
+that he had never had so high a respect for any of his masters. And he
+begs me to say that you may command his purse or influence to any
+reasonable extent. He will be truly grateful to you if you will not
+refuse his help.'
+
+'I fear I must refuse it.' And Cyril threw back his head with his old
+proud gesture. 'But do not tell him so, Captain Burnett. Give him my
+kindest, my most respectful regards. Say anything you like, but do not
+compromise me. I will take nothing but my salary from Dr. Ross.'
+
+'Then we will say no more about it,' returned Michael with ready tact.
+'Every man has a right to his own independence. Have you any place to go
+to when you leave here, Blake?'
+
+Then Cyril shook his head.
+
+'One can always take lodgings,' he replied. 'I must go up to town and
+look out for some situation. I suppose, after all, my testimonials will
+help me.'
+
+'Without doubt they will. What do you say to a secretaryship? I have one
+in my mind that I think would suit you. It is a friend of my own who is
+wanting someone as a sort of general amanuensis and secretary. He is a
+literary man and extremely wealthy, an old bachelor and somewhat of an
+oddity; but in his own way I don't know a better fellow.'
+
+Cyril listened to this description with languid interest.
+
+'It sounds as though it would do,' he replied, after a moment's
+reflection. 'At least, I might try it for a time. Last night I thought
+of going to New Zealand. I could get a mastership there.'
+
+'That is not a bad idea; but you might try the secretaryship first, if
+Unwin be willing to come to terms. The work would be novel and
+interesting, and your mother might not like the New Zealand scheme.'
+
+Then, at the mention of his mother, Cyril's face seemed to harden.
+
+Michael took no apparent notice of this.
+
+'I tell you what we will do, Blake. We will go up to town together. When
+would you like to start--to-morrow?' Here Cyril nodded. 'I have diggings
+of my own, you know, in South Audley Street. They are very comfortable
+rooms, and I can always get a bed for a friend. The people of the house
+are most accommodating. Besides, I am a good tenant. I will put you up,
+Blake, for any length of time you like to name. I will not promise to
+bear you company after the first week or so; but by that time you will
+find yourself quite at home. And we will interview the old fellow as
+soon as possible.'
+
+'You are too good! I have no right to burden you so;' but a ray of hope
+shone in Cyril's sunken eyes: he was not the outcast he had seemed to
+be, if this man stood by him.
+
+'Nonsense! How can you burden me?' returned Michael briskly. 'I shall be
+delighted to have your company. And the rooms are always there, you
+know. They may as well be used.'
+
+'And we can go to-morrow. You see, I am accepting your generous offer;
+but how can I help myself? I must find work, or I shall go mad.'
+
+'Just so, and I will help you to find it. There is some good, after all,
+in being an idle man: one can do a good turn for a friend. Well, we will
+say to-morrow. I shall be quite at your service, then; but there are two
+things that must be done first. Blake, do you know how ill your mother
+is? I was quite shocked to see her just now.'
+
+'Yes, Mollie told me so last night; she wanted me to come down to her,
+but I knew that it was far better for both of us that I should remain
+where I was; I was in no mood for a scene;' and Cyril knitted his brows
+as he spoke.
+
+'You were the best judge of that, of course; but I should advise you to
+see her now.'
+
+His grave tone somewhat startled Cyril.
+
+'Do you mean that she is so very ill?'
+
+'No, I do not mean that. As far as I can tell, I believe her illness is
+more mental than bodily; but she is evidently suffering acutely. If you
+leave her to herself much longer I would not answer for the
+consequences. Her nature is a peculiar one, as you must know for
+yourself. If you could say a word to her to soothe her, I think it would
+be as well to say it.'
+
+'Very well, I will go to her; but she must not expect me to say much.'
+
+'She will expect nothing; but all the same I hope you will not be too
+hard on her. If you cannot extenuate her fault, you can at least
+remember her provocations.'
+
+A sigh of great bitterness rose to Cyril's lips.
+
+'I think it is hardest of all to hear you defend my mother to me.'
+
+'I know it--it is bitterly hard. Do you think I don't feel for you? But,
+Blake, before we leave Rutherford, there is another duty, and a still
+more painful one. Surely you intend to see your father?'
+
+'I do not see the necessity, Captain Burnett; my father is nothing to me
+nor I to him.'
+
+'You are wrong,' returned Michael warmly; 'you are altogether wrong.
+Will you let me tell you something?'
+
+And then he repeated the substance of his conversation with Mat O'Brien.
+He thought Cyril seemed a little touched, but he merely said:
+
+'I think I need hardly see him at present;' and he added in a low voice,
+'Am I in a fit state to see anyone?'
+
+'Perhaps not; but you may not soon have another opportunity, my dear
+fellow. Will you put aside your feelings and do this thing for my
+satisfaction? I have given my word to Mr. O'Brien that I will do my best
+to bring you together, and if you refuse I shall accuse myself of
+failure.'
+
+'Oh, if you put it in that light, I do not see my way to refuse.'
+
+'Thanks--shall we go together, or would you prefer going alone?'
+
+'I could not bring myself to go alone.'
+
+'Very well, then, I will drive you over in the dogcart. I am no walker,
+as you know, and perhaps Kester had better go with us;' and to this
+Cyril made no demur. 'Now I have detained you long enough, and Mrs.
+Blake will be wearying for you. I will bring the trap round at half-past
+two.'
+
+Cyril nodded, and they went downstairs together. Michael paused for an
+instant at the drawing-room door:
+
+'Be gentle with her, Blake,' he said, as he grasped his hand. 'What is
+done cannot be undone;' and then he went down to Kester.
+
+Mrs. Blake was still in the same position. The tension of that long
+waiting had been too much for her, and the old faintness had returned;
+but when she saw her son she struggled into a sitting posture and
+stretched out her hands to him as he came slowly, and almost
+reluctantly, towards her.
+
+'Cyril! my darling Cyril!' Then he took her hand and held it for a
+moment. 'My boy,' she said a little piteously, 'have you nothing else
+for your mother?'
+
+But he seemed as though he failed to understand her, and when she
+pointed mutely to the seat beside her, he did not at once seat himself.
+
+'Mother,' he said, still speaking as though the words were difficult to
+him, 'I have come to tell you that there shall be peace between us.'
+
+'Does that mean you have forgiven me, Cyril?'
+
+'It means that I will do my best to forgive you your share in the ruin
+of my life--of all our lives.'
+
+Then as he stood before her she threw her arms round him with a faint
+cry; but he gently, very gently, repulsed her.
+
+'Do not let there be any scene; I could not bear it;' and the weariness
+in his voice made her heart ache still more. 'Mother, I think that we
+had better never speak of these things again. As far as I am concerned,
+I will willingly blot out the past from my memory. To-day we must begin
+afresh--you and I.'
+
+His tone made her shiver, and as she looked up in his dark impassive
+face, and saw the deep-seated melancholy in his eyes, a sort of despair
+seized her.
+
+'Oh!' she cried passionately, 'can it be my son who speaks? Blot out the
+past?--that happy past, when we were all in all to each other--when even
+poverty was delicious, because I had my boy to work for me!'
+
+'I shall work for you still.'
+
+'Yes, but will it be the same? What do I care for the gifts you may
+bring me when your heart has gone from me? How am I to bear my life when
+you treat me with such coldness? Cyril, you do not know what a mother's
+love is. If you had sinned, if you had come to me and said, "Will you
+take my hand, red as it is with the blood of a fellow-creature?" with
+all my horror I would still have taken it, for it is the hand of my
+son.'
+
+She spoke with a wild fervour that would have touched any other man; but
+he only returned coldly:
+
+'And yet you had no mercy for my father?'
+
+Then a look of repugnance crossed her face.
+
+'That was because I did not love him. Where there is no love there is no
+self-sacrifice; but, Cyril, with all my faults, I have been a good
+mother to you.'
+
+'I know it,' he replied, 'and I hope I shall always do my duty by you;
+but, mother, you must be patient and give me time. Do you not see,' and
+here his voice became more agitated, 'that you have yourself destroyed
+my faith in my mother: the mother in whom I believed, who was truth
+itself to me, is only my own illusion. I know now that she never
+existed; that is why I say that you must give me time, that I may become
+used to my new mother.'
+
+He spoke with the utmost gentleness; but his words were dreadful to her.
+And yet she hardly understood them. How could the pure rectitude, the
+scrupulous honour, of such a nature be comprehended by a woman like
+Olive O'Brien, a creature of wild impulses, whose notions of morality
+were as shifty as the quicksands, whose sense of right and wrong was so
+strangely warped? For the first time in her life the strong accusing
+light of conscience seemed to penetrate the murky recesses of her nature
+with an unearthly radiance that seemed to scorch her into nothingness.
+Her son had become her judge, and the penalty he imposed was worse than
+death to her. Of what use would her life be to her if the idol of her
+heart had turned against her? And yet, with all her remorse and misery,
+there was no repentance: if the time had come over again, she would
+still have freed herself from the husband she loathed, she would still
+have dressed herself in her widows' weeds, and carried out her life's
+deception.
+
+Cyril was perfectly aware of this; he knew all her anguish was caused by
+his displeasure, and by the bitter consequences that he was reaping. Her
+plot had failed; it had only brought disaster on him and his. If he
+could have seen one spark of real repentance--if she had owned to him
+with tears that her sorrow was for her sin, and that she would fain undo
+it--his heart would have been softer to her as she sat and wept before
+him.
+
+'I never thought you could have been so hard to me!' she sobbed.
+
+'I do not mean to be hard,' was his answer; 'that is why I said there
+should be peace between us, and because I am going away.'
+
+'You are going!--where?'
+
+And then he told her briefly that Captain Burnett had offered him a
+temporary home.
+
+'It is better for me to be alone a little,' he went on. 'When I have
+settled work, and you can get rid of the house, I will ask you to join
+me; but that will not be for some time.'
+
+'And I must stop on here alone? Oh, Cyril, my own boy, let me come with
+you! I will slave, I will be content with a crust, if you will only take
+me!'
+
+'It is impossible, mother; I shall have no home for you. You must stay
+here quietly with Mollie and Kester, until my plans are more settled.'
+
+And then he rose, as though to put an end to the discussion.
+
+'And you go to-morrow?'
+
+'Yes, to-morrow. Will you ask Mollie to look after my things?'
+
+Then, as she gazed at him with troubled eyes, he bent over her and
+kissed her forehead. 'We must begin afresh,' he said, half to himself,
+as he left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+'WILL YOU SHAKE HANDS WITH YOUR FATHER?'
+
+     'It is peculiar to man to love even those who do wrong. And this
+     happens if, when they do wrong, it occurs to thee that they are
+     kinsmen, and that they do wrong through ignorance and
+     unintentionally, and that soon both of you will die; and above all,
+     that the wrongdoer hath done thee no harm, for he hath not made thy
+     ruling faculty worse than it was before.'--M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.
+
+     'To err is human; to forgive, divine.'
+
+
+The drive to Brail that afternoon was a silent one; grim care sat on the
+two young faces, and Michael, with his usual tact, devoted himself to
+his mare. Now and then her skittishness gave him an opportunity of
+saying a word or two, to which Cyril replied in monosyllables.
+
+When they had left the inn, and were almost in sight of the cottage,
+Michael suddenly asked Cyril if he had ever seen Mr. O'Brien. 'Thomas
+O'Brien,' he added quickly.
+
+'You mean my uncle?' returned Cyril curtly. 'No; I have never seen him.'
+
+'Then I should like to tell you something about him. Of all the men I
+have ever known, Thomas O'Brien is the one I have most honoured. I have
+always had the greatest respect for him--for his honesty, integrity, and
+child-like simplicity. In spite of his want of culture, he is the
+gentleman his Creator intended him to be. Let me tell you, Blake, that
+you may be proud to call such a man your uncle.' And with these words
+Michael unlatched the little gate, and waited for them to follow him.
+
+They were not unperceived. Long before they reached the porch the
+cottage door was open, and Thomas O'Brien's genial face and strong,
+thick-set figure blocked up the doorway.
+
+Michael was about to speak, when, to his surprise, Cyril lifted his hat,
+and then extended his hand to the old man.
+
+'I believe you are my uncle, sir,' he said quietly. 'There can be no
+need of an introduction: I am Cyril, and this is my brother Kester.'
+
+A soft, misty look came into Thomas O'Brien's honest eyes.
+
+'Ay, my lad, I am thinking I know you both, though I have never set eyes
+on you before. You are kindly welcome, young gentlemen, for your own and
+for your father's sake.' And here he gave them a hearty grasp of the
+hand. 'The Captain is always welcome, as he knows. He and me have been
+friends for half a score of years--eh, Captain?'
+
+'Good God! are those my boys, Tom?'
+
+The interruption was so sudden and unexpected that they all started, and
+Cyril turned pale. Something familiar in the voice seemed to thrill him,
+like an echo from a far-off time. He turned round quickly. A tall man,
+with closely-cropped hair and a gray moustache, was standing behind him,
+and regarding him with dark, melancholy eyes.
+
+'Those two can never be my boys, Tom!' he repeated, in the same
+incredulous, awestruck voice.
+
+'Ay, lad, they are your own, surely; and you had better be thanking God
+for His mercy in giving you such sons than be taking the holy name on
+your lips.'
+
+But Mat did not seem to hear this mild rebuke.
+
+'Will you shake hands with your father, Cyril?' he said, with an air of
+deep dejection. 'I wish it were a cleaner hand, for your sake; but I can
+give you no other.'
+
+'Do you think I would refuse it, sir?' returned the young man, touched,
+in spite of himself.
+
+And then it was Kester's turn. But as Mat's eyes fell on the boy's worn,
+sickly face his manner changed.
+
+'Is that my little chap--the young monkey who used to ride on my
+shoulder and hold on by my hair? Dear! dear! who would have believed
+it?'
+
+Kester's pale face flushed a little.
+
+'You are looking at my crutch, sir,' he said nervously; 'but I shall
+soon throw it away. I am ever so much better now, am I not, Cyril?'
+
+'And where's my little Mollie?' continued Mat--'"the baby," as we used
+to call her?'
+
+'Let us come away,' whispered Michael in Mr. O'Brien's ear. 'They will
+get on better without us.'
+
+The tears were running down the old man's face as they turned into the
+little parlour.
+
+'It beats me, sir, it beats me utterly, to see my poor lad trying to
+make friends with his own children, and looking so shamed before them.
+That is a fine-looking chap, that eldest one,' he went on--'Miss Ross's
+sweetheart, as I used to call him. He is the sort any girl could fancy.
+And he has a look of Mat about him, too, only he is handsomer and better
+set up than Mat ever was. "I believe you are my uncle, sir." Few young
+chaps would have said that. A fine fellow, and she has lost him. Well,
+the Almighty sends trouble to the young as well as the old. May I light
+my pipe, Captain? For I am a bit shaky, and all this has overset me.'
+
+Meanwhile Cyril was saying:
+
+'We have not brought Mollie. If you wish to see her, she shall come
+another time.'
+
+'Thank you, my lad; that is kindly spoken. And I have a sort of longing
+to set eyes on her again. But you need not think that I am going to
+trouble her, or you either. A man like me has no right to trouble
+anyone.'
+
+How could they answer him? But Mat did not seem to notice their silence.
+His eyes were bent on the ground, and he twirled his gray moustache
+fiercely.
+
+'My children belong to their mother, and not to me. I made you over to
+her years ago. She said I was not fit to have the charge of my own
+children; and maybe she was right. It was not a wifely speech, but I
+can't blame her. When you go home, tell her I'll keep my word--that I'll
+lay no sort of claim to any of you.'
+
+He spoke in the slow, brooding tone that was natural to him, and the
+tears came into Kester's eyes as he listened.
+
+Boy as he was, he understood the deep degradation of such words. This
+tall, hungry-eyed man, who stood aloof and talked so strangely, was his
+own father, who was voluntarily denuding himself of a father's
+rights--an outcast thrown over by his wife and children--an erring, and
+yet a deeply repentant man. Could anything be more unnatural and
+horrible? Kester's boyish sense of justice revolted against this painful
+condition of things; he longed to start up and take his father's hand.
+
+'Do not be so miserable; whatever you have done, you are our father, and
+we will be good to you.' This is what he would have said; but he only
+looked at Cyril and held his peace.
+
+Cyril had felt himself strangely attracted from the first. This was not
+the father whom he had dreaded to see, and on whose countenance he had
+feared to behold the stamp of the felon. Mat's worn, gentle face and
+deep-set, sorrowful eyes only inspired him with pity; the haggard
+weariness, the utter despondency of the man before him told their own
+story. True, there was weakness, moral weakness; but, at least, there
+was no glorying in his wrong-doing. The prodigal had come home weary of
+his husks, and craving for more wholesome food.
+
+'If I have done wrong, I have suffered for it,' his looks seemed to say;
+and Cyril's generosity responded to the appeal.
+
+'We are all in a difficult position,' he said; 'but there is no need to
+make things worse than they are. It is not for us to judge our parents,
+neither is it our fault that all these years we have believed that we
+had but one. Now I know all, I feel you have not been treated fairly.'
+
+'I thought you would have taken your mother's part, my boy,' replied Mat
+humbly.
+
+Cyril's words brought him some amount of consolation, only he could not
+quite bring himself to believe them.
+
+'I hope that I shall always be on the side where the right lies,' was
+Cyril's answer. 'I do not wish to blame my mother. I think it is best
+and wisest to be silent. You are a stranger to us, and we have not even
+your memory to aid us. My own childish reminiscences are very vague: I
+can just remember a big man who used to play with us, and whom we called
+daddy; but I have no special recollection of him.'
+
+'I hardly expected you to say as much as that,' and Mat's eyes
+brightened; 'but, after all, I doubt if I am better off in that respect
+than you. How am I to find my little chaps again when I look at you
+both--a fine grown man, and that poor sickly lad beside you? Why,' he
+continued in a tender, musing tone, 'the little chaps I remember had
+rosy cheeks and curly heads. I can feel their bare legs swarming up me
+now. "Give us a ride, dad!" It was always Kester who said that. He was
+never still a moment unless he was asleep, and then he used to look so
+pretty; but where shall I find him?--there is not a trace of the little
+rogue left in him; and when I see my girl Mollie, it will be the same.'
+
+Kester could stand no more; he started up so hastily that his crutch
+slipped from under his arm, and he would have lost his balance if his
+father had not caught him and held him fast.
+
+'Why did you do that, boy? You have given me quite a fright? There!
+there! I will pick up your stick for you, while you stop quietly in your
+chair.'
+
+But, to his surprise, Kester held him tightly by the wrist.
+
+'Never mind the crutch, father; I am not afraid of a tumble. Somehow, my
+leg gets stiff, but I don't mind it. I only wanted to say that, if you
+like, I will come and see you sometimes, when I can get a lift; and I
+will bring Mollie with me. I can't help what mother says,' continued the
+boy, his face working, 'and I don't mean to let her hinder us from
+coming. Cyril is going away, so he will not count; but I'll bring
+Mollie: and though she is not your baby now, she will take to you and
+cheer you up.'
+
+Kester was quite out of breath with this long speech that he blurted
+out, but he was hardly prepared for the result; for before he had
+finished a low sob broke from Mat's lips, and he sat down shaking with
+emotion, and covered his face with his hands. Kester looked at him
+wistfully.
+
+'Have I said anything to hurt him?' he whispered; but Mat's ears caught
+the words.
+
+'No, no,' he returned vehemently; 'you have put fresh life into me by
+speaking so kindly. It was only the word "father" that I never thought
+to hear. God bless you, my boy, for saying that! I thought that she
+would have taught you to hate me--as she did herself.'
+
+'I shall never hate you, father; I would not be so wicked. If you will
+let me come and see you sometimes I will try to be good to you, and I
+know Mollie will, too. I suppose,' continued Kester doubtfully, 'that I
+must not ask you to come and see us in return. It is mother's house,
+and----'
+
+But Mat finished the speech:
+
+'No, my lad, you are right. Your mother and I have parted for this
+life.' And now he spoke with a sort of mournful dignity. 'The time was
+when I worshipped the ground she walked upon; but there are limits to a
+man's love. When she forsook me in my shame and trouble, when she stood
+there taunting me in my prison cell, my heart seemed to die to her.
+Olive is nought to me now but a bitter memory, and if she prayed to me
+on her bended knees I would not enter her house.'
+
+It was Cyril's turn to speak now.
+
+'Yes, you are better apart,' he said in a low voice; 'and my mother has
+always been my charge. I shall tell her that she must not hinder Mollie
+or Kester from coming to see you. Shall you still remain here, father?'
+
+He said the word with some little effort, but the same brightness came
+into Mat's eyes.
+
+'I think so, my lad; I would as lief stay with Tom. All these years he
+has stuck to me, and I'll not forsake him now.'
+
+'And you will be comfortable?'
+
+Cyril asked the question with some degree of interest, and again Mat's
+eyes glistened with pleasure.
+
+'I doubt if I was ever so comfortable in my life,' he returned, without
+any hesitation. 'You are young, my boy, and trouble is new to you, and
+Heaven forbid that you should ever be able to put yourself in my place.
+But if you only knew what it is to me to bid good-night to someone
+again!
+
+'It is not much of a life, perhaps,' went on Mat, with his gentle,
+melancholy drawl; 'but to me it is heavenly in its peace and quiet.
+Prissy is sometimes a bit harassing: but, then, most women are; but she
+keeps things comfortable and ship-shape, and when she has gone off to
+bed there is Tom and his pipe in the chimney-corner, and it is "Come and
+have a chat, my lad, until it is time to turn in." Yes, yes, I'll bide
+with Tom and be thankful.'
+
+'Then we will come and see you here sometimes,' returned Cyril, rising;
+'for myself I cannot answer at present----' He paused, and then
+continued hurriedly: 'I shall not see you again for some time. I am
+leaving Rutherford.'
+
+'Yes, lad, I know,' and Mat sighed heavily; 'and it is all through me
+that you are going. I wanted the Captain to hush it all up; but he would
+not hear of it. When I think of all I have brought on you, I wonder you
+can bring yourself to speak a kind word to me.'
+
+'It is not all your fault; but I cannot talk of myself. Good-bye,
+father. If we do not meet again for some time, it will be because things
+are going badly with me; but I shall always be ready to help you, if you
+need my assistance.'
+
+'Thank you, my boy,' returned Mat huskily.
+
+And then it was Kester's turn.
+
+'I shall come soon, very soon, and Mollie shall come with me.'
+
+'Mollie!' Mat repeated the name in fond, lingering fashion as he moved
+to the window. 'My little girl! I wonder if she is like Olive? Cyril is;
+he has all her good looks, but he has something in his face that Olive
+never had. I almost felt shamed when he called me father; but the other
+one--he is not my little chap, and yet he is--but somehow when he spoke
+my whole heart seemed to go out to him.' And then Mat tried to light his
+pipe, only his hand trembled too much to do it. 'If I could only have my
+life back again!' he said to himself with a groan.
+
+Cyril hardly broke the silence once during the drive back. It was not
+until several days had passed that Michael heard how that interview with
+his father had affected him. Cyril said very little even then, but
+Michael was relieved to find that, on the whole, he had been more
+attracted than repelled.
+
+'Kester likes him, and in a way I like him too,' he remarked; 'we both
+think he has been hardly used. My mother could have kept him
+straight--there is no doubt of that--but she never tried to do so. One
+is sorry for that sort of weakness, even if one cannot understand it,'
+finished Cyril, with the feeling that there was nothing more to say.
+
+Michael left them at the Cottage and drove on to Woodcote. His day's
+work had been somewhat arduous, and he felt fagged and weary. It was
+long past tea-time, he knew, but he wondered if he could ask Crauford to
+bring him some. Michael's long years of ill-health made him depend on
+this feminine panacea for all ills more than most men. That Michael
+hated to miss his tea was a well-known fact in the Ross household.
+
+Another time Audrey would have cared for his comforts, he thought, as he
+dragged himself up the stairs in a spiritless manner. Tired Nature was
+avenging herself in her usual fashion, and Michael's head and limbs were
+aching. Perhaps something else ached too.
+
+But his mood changed when he entered his room. After all, he had not
+been forgotten. A cheery little fire burnt and spluttered as though
+newly lighted, and a tiny kettle sang merrily on its trivet; the
+tea-tray was on the table, and, as Michael regarded these preparations
+with an expression of satisfaction, he heard Audrey's well-known knock
+at the door.
+
+'Shall I make your tea, Michael,' she asked, 'or would you rather be
+alone? Gage and Percival are downstairs, and, as I was sure you would
+be tired, I told Crauford to bring up the kettle. Shall I stay or not?'
+she continued, a little surprised by his silence.
+
+'Stay, by all means!' was his only reply, as he threw himself into his
+easy-chair.
+
+He would have thanked her--and she evidently expected to be thanked--but
+he was afraid he should say too much. She had thought of him and his
+comfort in her own unhappiness, though her face was still pale with her
+inward trouble.
+
+'You have had a trying day,' she continued, as she knelt down on the rug
+a moment to coax the fire to burn more brightly; 'and of course it has
+taken it out of you. I was quite sure that you would not be in the mood
+for Gage and Percival. Percival is very kind, but somehow he is not
+restful; he is so very bracing.' And she sighed as though she had found
+him so.
+
+'People are not always in a condition for a tonic, are they, Audrey?'
+
+'No,' she replied quietly; 'and then it is no use forcing it on them.
+But I must not be hard on Percival; he was very kind, only somehow his
+conversation was a little too bracing. He and Gage were full of plans;
+they meant it all for my good: but it was a little tiring.'
+
+'Poor child!' and Michael's sympathising tone was very healing.
+
+'But we will not talk about my silly self,' rousing herself; 'there is
+something else I want to know. I guess where you have been this
+afternoon. You have taken Cyril to see his father.'
+
+'Yes; and Kester too.'
+
+'I am very glad,' forcing a smile. 'It was right--quite right. He will
+be the happier for not shirking his duty.'
+
+Then she looked at Michael a little pleadingly, as though to beg for
+some account of the interview.
+
+'I am afraid I cannot tell you much,' he returned, feeling sorry that he
+had so little to communicate. 'As far as I could see, Blake behaved
+uncommonly well; he shook hands with O'Brien at once. But, of course,
+after that I only thought it right to efface myself.'
+
+'But surely Cyril has spoken of his father?'
+
+'No, he has not said a word; but I daresay he will open out more by and
+by, I am going up to town with him to-morrow, and we shall have plenty
+of opportunity if he feels disposed to talk.'
+
+'Are you going to stay?'
+
+'Well, yes--he is hardly fit to be left just now. I shall put him up at
+South Audley Street, and then he can look about him for a bit. I daresay
+I shall be back in a week or two.'
+
+'Oh, Michael, I never thought of this. Are you sure it will not trouble
+you?'
+
+'Not a bit,' he returned cheerfully. 'I want to see my lawyer, and do
+one or two things; so it comes quite handy.'
+
+But this plausible pretext did not in the least deceive her.
+
+'It is no use saying what I think,' she said hurriedly, and he saw the
+gleam of a tear on her eyelash. 'No one but yourself would ever do such
+things. I shall miss you--I think I shall miss you more than ever--but
+it will be such a comfort to feel you are with him.'
+
+'Oh, as to that, he will not need me long. When I see him fairly settled
+I shall come home. I want to speak to Unwin about him. You have often
+heard me speak of Unwin: he is nearly old enough to be my father; but we
+are great chums, and I mean to tell him the whole story about Blake. If
+I could only get Unwin to stand his friend, there will be some hope for
+him.'
+
+'Yes, I understand; but it is you who will be his benefactor. Don't
+frown, Michael, I am not going to thank you; I cannot. Now please tell
+me one other thing before I go: will you write to me?'
+
+'If you wish it,' he replied without hesitation. 'Oh yes, I will
+certainly write and let you know how we are getting on; but I think it
+might be as well for you not to answer my letters.'
+
+A flush came to Audrey's face, but she perfectly understood the delicacy
+that induced Michael to make this stipulation; he would deprive himself
+of one of his greatest pleasures rather than Cyril should be pained by
+the sight of her handwriting.
+
+'I will not write,' she said in a low voice. 'Now I must go down to
+Gage.'
+
+But he detained her.
+
+'Wait a moment; there is no hurry, is there? And it is my turn to ask
+questions. I want to know what you are going to do with yourself during
+my absence?'
+
+And there was no mistaking his anxiety, though he strove to hide it.
+
+'I shall do as usual,' she returned tranquilly. 'Mollie will come to me
+every morning, and we shall work hard at our lessons, and----'
+
+But he interrupted her.
+
+'Are you sure that your father will approve of Mollie's visits?' he
+asked.
+
+'There is no reason why he should disapprove,' she replied quickly; 'but
+of course I shall speak to him. There can be no possible reason why my
+poor Mollie should be punished. Father would not wish me to go to the
+Gray Cottage, and, indeed, I should not wish it myself; but there can be
+no objection to Mollie coming here.'
+
+'Perhaps not; and, after all, it will not be for long.'
+
+'No, it will not be for long; so I must do my best for her. Do not
+trouble about me, Michael; I shall be as busy as possible. I am not
+going away with Gage, as she wishes. I tell her I would rather stay
+quietly with father and mother--perhaps next holidays--but we need not
+talk of that.'
+
+'But you will be very dull.'
+
+'No, indeed, I shall have too much to do--at least, I do not mean to
+think whether I am dull or not; but, Michael, I shall depend for a great
+deal of my comfort on your letters.'
+
+Then he knew that the burden of her lover's unhappiness was very heavy
+upon her, but that she would not willingly speak of it even to him.
+
+'I will tell you all that there is to tell. If you do not hear from me,
+it will be because there is nothing to say;' and with these words he let
+her go.
+
+He did not speak to her again that evening; for though Mr. Harcourt had
+taken his departure, Geraldine had remained, with the amiable intention
+of cheering her sister. If she did not quite succeed in her mission, it
+was for no want of effort on Audrey's part, who, as usual, did her best
+for everyone. But more than once Michael detected a weary look in her
+eyes, that told him that she would fain have been left alone. 'But that
+is the last thing that Gage and Harcourt would ever do,' he said to
+himself, with a shade of bitterness, as he saw the gentleness and
+patience with which Audrey received her sister's attentions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+MICHAEL'S LETTER
+
+     'Be not ashamed to be helped; for it is thy business to do thy
+     duty, like a soldier in the assault on a town. How then, if being
+     lame, thou canst not mount up on the battlements alone, but with
+     the help of another it is possible.'--M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.
+
+
+About a week afterwards, Michael was writing in his sitting-room in
+South Audley Street when Cyril Blake entered the room. He put down his
+hat and began taking off his gloves as he stood by the table.
+
+'Well,' asked Michael, looking up from his cheque-book; 'have you hit it
+off, old man?'
+
+'Yes; we have settled it,' returned Cyril, dropping into a chair as
+though he were tired. 'And I am to enter on my duties next week.'
+
+'Next week! That is uncommonly short notice. Unwin must be in a precious
+hurry to close with the bargain.'
+
+'He is in a hurry. He says his work is all in arrears, and that his
+publishers want his book on Cyprus as soon as he can let them have it;
+and the papers are all in confusion. Of course I let him know that I was
+in no need of a holiday, and that I would far rather commence work at
+once. Mr. Unwin was most kind and considerate. My hours are to be from
+ten to six; so I shall be able to give a lesson or two in the evening.'
+
+'You know my opinion on that subject; but I fancy I have exhausted all
+my arguments for no purpose.'
+
+'I am afraid so too,' returned Cyril quietly. 'Mr. Unwin thinks he can
+find me a pupil--a young fellow who is behind-hand with his classics,
+and has got plucked in his examination. Really, Burnett, I am extremely
+indebted to you for this introduction to Mr. Unwin. In spite of his
+peculiarities, he seems to have an excellent heart.'
+
+'Oh yes; he is an out-and-out good fellow. I can tell you some anecdotes
+that are very much to his credit, only I know he would never forgive me.
+Unwin likes his kind actions to blush unseen. Shall you think me
+impertinent, Blake, if I ask what amount of salary he means to give
+you?'
+
+'Not in the least; you have every right to know. I am to have a hundred
+and twenty pounds a year--that is only thirty pounds less than I had at
+Rutherford. I never expected such good pay.'
+
+'Ah! Unwin can afford it.'
+
+'He seemed to say so. One thing--he thought I was older than I am. He
+seemed quite surprised when I told him I was only three-and-twenty.'
+
+Michael looked up a little sharply. There was no denying that Cyril
+looked older--even these few days had worked some indefinable change in
+him. He was not ill, though he could not be said to be well; but there
+had come to him a certain settled look that one sees on the faces of
+middle-aged men who have a large amount of care. And there were dark
+circles round his eyes, as though sleep had to be wooed with some degree
+of difficulty.
+
+'You are tolerably youthful still, Blake,' he said, not liking to admit
+that he saw this change in him.
+
+'Am I? I should not have said so from my own feelings. I fancy youth is
+rather a relative term; but I must acknowledge that Mr. Unwin treated me
+with a great deal of consideration. I know what you have told him; but
+he scarcely alluded to it, except in the most distant way: indeed, I am
+very grateful to him for his delicacy.'
+
+'I told you from the first that he was a good fellow. Unwin is what I
+call an all-round man. He is a bit fussy over his hobbies, but as long
+as you keep Charles the First out of your conversation I fancy it will
+be plain sailing. I hope you are not bursting with the subject, as the
+immortal Mr. Dick was, when he found himself compelled to fly his kites;
+but it is a fact that Unwin is a bit cranky about him.'
+
+'Thank you for warning me,' returned Cyril, with a grave smile; 'now, my
+next business will be to look out for some lodgings within an easy
+distance of Cromwell Road. I have trespassed on your kind hospitality
+long enough.'
+
+'Nonsense!' returned Michael bluntly. 'I expected you to stop on here
+for at least another month. I shall go back to Rutherford in a fortnight
+or so; but that would not make any difference to you: my old woman
+would be delighted to cook for you, and make you comfortable. You know,
+her husband was an old corporal in our regiment; but an amputated leg,
+and a little bit of money coming to his wife, made him fall out of the
+ranks. I have lodged with them for about ten years, and I have been in
+no hurry to change my quarters.'
+
+'No--they are very comfortable; but the fact is, Burnett, my mother
+gives me no peace. She writes every day to beg me to take her away from
+Rutherford. She says she will never go outside the gate as long as she
+remains there. I imagine she has a nervous dread of meeting my father;
+besides, she says everyone will be talking about her.'
+
+'I do not believe a single person in Rutherford has begun to talk.'
+
+'So I tell her; but she will not believe me. You know my mother; it is
+not always easy to manage her. She will be quieter when she has once got
+away; so, with many thanks for all your kindness, Burnett, I will just
+look out for these lodgings.'
+
+'Well, if your mind is made up, I will not try to change your
+determination; but, if you will excuse my plainness of speech, I think
+it would be better for you to be without your mother for another week or
+two.'
+
+'I daresay you are right,' replied Cyril wearily; 'and my quiet life
+here has been a great boon. But it does not do to think only of one's
+self. And, after all, nothing matters much. Perhaps Mrs. Johnson may
+know of some good rooms; they must be furnished, for of course it would
+never do to move our furniture under the present unsettled state of
+things. Besides, ours is too old to bear another journey. My mother can
+bring away the books, and her bits of china, and any little thing she
+fancies, and Biddy can mount guard over the rest until we can dispose of
+it. I daresay I can soon get the house off my hands.'
+
+'There will be no difficulty about that,' returned Michael, inwardly
+wondering at Cyril's cool, business-like tone; in his heart he admired
+him all the more for his pluck. 'Paget is looking out for a house--you
+know he expects to be married shortly--shall I write to him and give him
+a hint that you want to find a tenant for the Gray Cottage? I daresay
+the landlord will be glad for him to take it.'
+
+'If you will be so good. I forgot all about Paget. But he would turn up
+his nose at our old carpets; his bride-elect is rather a grand lady.'
+
+Cyril's tone was a trifle cynical; but Michael would have forgiven him
+if his speech had been flavoured with the gall of bitterness.
+
+'Very well, then; I will write to him before country post, and we will
+have up Mrs. Johnson and talk to her.'
+
+And Cyril at once rang the bell.
+
+Two days afterwards Audrey received her first long letter from Michael.
+A brief note was all that had yet reached her.
+
+     'MY DEAR AUDREY,' it began,
+
+     'I hope that you will not think that I have forgotten you; but when
+     there is literally nothing to say, I am rather a bad hand at
+     cooking up a letter; and I had not a single fact to go upon, except
+     to tell you that, on the whole, we were pretty fit, and were
+     jogging along somehow. Well, I have a whole budget of facts now,
+     and my pen has become a valuable implement.
+
+     'First, then, Blake has come to terms with Unwin; and he is to
+     begin work on Monday. I believe in his heart he would still prefer
+     the New Zealand scheme; and if we could only get rid of his
+     mother--not an easy task that--I should be inclined to give him a
+     helping hand in that direction; but as Blake does not see his way
+     clear to leave her, he may as well take the berth offered to him.
+     Privately, I believe Unwin is hugging himself under the idea that
+     he has got a treasure. He spoke of him to me as a highly
+     intelligent fellow and a first-rate Greek scholar, which we know
+     are facts. His hours are pretty light--from ten to six--so he will
+     have his evenings to himself; but I am sorry to say he means to
+     look out for pupils. I have talked myself hoarse on the subject;
+     but he will not listen to reason. Of course his health will suffer:
+     he has always been accustomed to so much fresh air and exercise. If
+     I could only induce him to join a cricket or tennis club! But it
+     would never do to propose it just now; he has no heart for play.
+
+     'One thing, he has given in to me about Kester, though I had some
+     difficulty with him at first. We had a long talk last night, and I
+     employed all my eloquence to bring him to see the thing in its
+     right light; and at last he consented that I should have my way.
+
+     'Do you remember my telling you about George Moore--that nice
+     fellow who got into trouble with his rector? Well, he has married
+     lately, and his wife is a very good woman. Moore has taken a
+     capital house at Brighton. He has a curacy at Kemp Town, and he is
+     looking out for a few pupils to prepare for the university.
+
+     'I am going to send Kester to him for a year or two, until he is
+     old enough to go to Oxford. Abercrombie tells me the sea air will
+     do him a world of good. I have just written to him to come up at
+     once, as he must have a proper outfit. And now I must tell you that
+     Blake has found some very good rooms, Kensington way. I went down
+     with him yesterday, and I think they will do very well.
+
+     'There is a good-sized drawing-room--a sunny, cheerful room, with a
+     smaller one behind, where Blake can work with his pupils--and two
+     good bedrooms. Biddy (how I wish she were not to be of the ménage!)
+     will have to content herself with a dull slip of a room on the
+     basement. Of course the furniture is shabby, and there is very
+     little of it; but I mean to introduce a few improvements by
+     degrees. I like the appearance of the woman of the house. She is a
+     widow, and is evidently very respectable. Her daughter, a very tidy
+     sort of person, waits on the lodgers.
+
+     'I think I have told you about all now. Blake has thawed lately,
+     and we have long talks together, though perhaps they are not
+     cheerful ones. On the whole, I think he shows a great deal of
+     pluck. I doubt whether any other young man of his age would behave
+     as well. If the Victoria Cross were ever given for moral heroism, I
+     am sure Blake would get it.
+
+     'Good-bye until we meet. I suppose I shall be back in another week
+     or ten days. Take care of yourself, my dear, for the sake of your
+     affectionate friend and cousin,
+
+                                                 'MICHAEL.'
+
+'There is no one like Michael!' was Audrey's inward comment as she put
+down the letter.
+
+How simply he had told her his intentions with regard to Kester! as
+though his generosity were a matter of course. How few men of Michael's
+age would have cared to saddle themselves with such a responsibility!
+for one, too, who was not their own kith and kin.
+
+'It will cost him at least two hundred a year,' she thought; 'no wonder
+my poor Cyril found it difficult to accept such an offer. He would take
+nothing from Michael for himself, but he could hardly refuse for Kester.
+Michael has virtually adopted him, just as I should like to adopt
+Mollie. I suppose he thinks he will have no son of his own, and there
+is all that money----'
+
+And she sighed a little as she thought of Michael's loneliness.
+
+But if she had only known it, Michael's real generosity was shown in
+those lines he had written at the end of his letter. His munificence to
+Kester cost him far less than those few words which he wrote so
+ungrudgingly of his rival; but he knew how they would gladden her heart.
+The old beautiful smile would come to her lips, he thought, as she read
+them.
+
+'They will please her more than all the rest of the letter,' he said to
+himself.
+
+Two or three evenings after this letter had reached her, Audrey went
+into her father's study, as usual, to bid him good-night; but when he
+had kissed her with that special tenderness which he had shown to her
+ever since her trouble, she looked at him very seriously.
+
+'Father,' she said, as he kept his arm still round her, 'I wish you to
+know that I am going to the Gray Cottage to-morrow to bid Mrs. Blake
+good-bye.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross's arm dropped from her waist, and she saw at once that the
+news was not palatable to him.
+
+'Is that necessary, Audrey?'
+
+'Yes, father; I think I may say that it is necessary. I have kept away
+from the Gray Cottage all this time because I knew that it was your wish
+that I should do so, and I have ever been guided by your wishes; but now
+Mrs. Blake is going away, and it would trouble me greatly if she were to
+leave without my bidding her good-bye.'
+
+'I think it would be far better, for her sake as well as yours, that
+there should be no special leave-taking.'
+
+'There I must differ from you, father dear,' returned Audrey gently. 'I
+could not bring myself to put such an affront on Cyril's mother. You
+know, I am still engaged to Cyril, and his mother can never be a
+stranger to me.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross regarded his daughter with a grieved expression.
+
+'My own child, if you would only be guided by me in this!--if you would
+give up this young man entirely----'
+
+Then she shook her head, and a grave, sweet smile came to her lips.
+
+'Would you have me break my word, father, because Cyril has broken his?
+But I do not blame him--he was obliged to do it; but no power on earth
+could compel me. Dear, why should we speak of this thing--you and I?
+When one's mind is made up, there is nothing more to be said. In
+everything else I will obey you as a child ought to obey her father. If
+you tell me that I must not go to the Gray Cottage to-morrow, you shall
+be obeyed, no matter what it may cost me; but'--pressing her lips to his
+forehead as she leant against him--'I do not think my father will be
+such a tyrant.'
+
+'I have no wish to tyrannise, Audrey,' returned Dr. Ross sadly. 'In all
+I have said, I have only considered your happiness. If you feel that
+there is this need to bid Mrs. Blake good-bye, I shall certainly not
+prevent you. I know I can trust my daughter. I have wished that the
+break should be final and conclusive, but it seems that you think
+otherwise.'
+
+'After to-morrow the separation will be as complete as you desire it to
+be.'
+
+'I am thankful to hear it. Of all women, I believe Mrs. Blake to be the
+most unsatisfactory. Audrey, my child, at the risk of paining you, I
+must say one word. There must be no written communication between her
+and you.'
+
+'No, father; I should not wish it. Any such letters would be
+impossible--at least, to me. Mollie will write to me sometimes, and I
+suppose I shall answer her letters; but she will not write often.'
+
+'I think I should tell her to write as seldom as possible. Mollie is a
+nice little girl, and we are all fond of her; but I should be inclined
+to doubt her discretion.'
+
+Then Audrey smiled faintly, and promised that Mollie's correspondence
+should be enclosed within strict limits. She knew well what her father
+meant. Mollie's letters would be overflowing with allusions to her
+brother; her simplicity would know no reticence.
+
+'I think you may trust me,' she said, after a moment's silence. 'Of
+course I understand what you mean.'
+
+'Then in that case we will not say any more about it,' replied her
+father. Trust her!--he knew that he could absolutely rely on her. When
+had she ever disappointed him? Of all girls, he had never known one so
+free from guile, so utterly transparent; there could be no shadow of
+doubt in his mind concerning her. And as he kissed her, and again wished
+her good-night, he blessed her in his heart for being such a daughter to
+him.
+
+Audrey had carried her point. Her visit to Mrs. Blake had appeared to
+her in the light of an imperative duty; but it may be doubted whether
+she looked forward to it with any feeling of pleasure.
+
+Up to the present time she had spoken as little as possible of Mrs.
+Blake. She had only said a word or two to Cyril, begging him to make
+peace with his mother; she had asked him to soften his heart to her.
+'With all her faults, I think no mother ever loved her son so well,' she
+had told him. 'It is not the highest love,' she had continued, 'since
+she has stooped to deceit and wrong for your sake. But it is not for you
+to judge her.' And she knew instinctively that her pleading had had
+weight with him.
+
+But though she had found words to defend her, she knew that Mrs. Blake
+could never be to her the friend she had been; and the shock of this
+discovery had been dreadful to her. She might still love and pity
+Cyril's mother; she might even be desirous of serving her; but the charm
+was broken, and, as far as Audrey's happiness was concerned, it might be
+well that the distance was widened between them.
+
+When she rose the next morning, she felt as though some difficult and
+painful duty lay before her; and as she walked towards the Cottage in
+the sunshine of an April afternoon, she told herself that her visit must
+not be a long one.
+
+A rush of bitter-sweet memories came over her as she pushed open the
+green gate for the last time, and Zack bounded to meet her. As she
+stooped to caress him, and he rested his glossy head against her with a
+dog's unreasoning adoration, she said in a low voice: 'Zack, old fellow,
+you will be glad to be with your master again.' And he whined, as though
+in joyful assent.
+
+There were no signs of either Mollie or Biddy, so she went up as
+usual--unannounced. The drawing-room door was open, and as her footsteps
+sounded in the passage Mrs. Blake came quietly out. She stepped back as
+she saw Audrey, and a slight colour came to her face.
+
+'It is you--at last!' she said abruptly; but there was no other
+greeting.
+
+'Yes, it is I,' returned Audrey, kissing her, and speaking in her usual
+tranquil manner. 'Do you think I should have let you leave Rutherford
+without bidding you good-bye!'
+
+Then Mrs. Blake's eyes had a dangerous gleam in them.
+
+'How could I know that they would let you come?' she said almost
+harshly. 'Am I not a pariah, an outcast from all respectable society?
+Does not Dr. Ross think so, as well as that excellent sister of yours?
+Do you know what my life has been during the last fortnight, since my
+boy left me? I have not dared to leave my own gate; if I were stifled
+for air, I would not venture to stir out, for fear of seeing a face I
+know.'
+
+'You need not have been afraid; no one in Rutherford has heard your
+story.'
+
+'But they may have heard it by this time. You forget that Dr.
+Charrington and Mr. Harcourt have been told. A man would never keep such
+a secret from his wife. Mrs. Charrington may have told it to half the
+masters' wives by this time; this is why I have begged Cyril to take me
+away, because my life is unendurable.'
+
+'You are going to him now,' observed Audrey soothingly, for she saw at
+once that Mrs. Blake was in one of her unhappy moods.
+
+She was thin and pale, and there was a sharpened look about her
+features, as though her inward excitement had worn her.
+
+'Yes, I am going to him; but what good will my life be to me? He has
+forgiven me--at least, he says so--but every hour of the day his sadness
+will be a reproach to me. When I see his unhappiness, how am I to bear
+it, when I know it is all my fault? Audrey, tell me one thing: you are
+still engaged to him?'
+
+'Yes,' returned Audrey very softly, 'I am still engaged to him.'
+
+'Captain Burnett told me so; he said you had refused to give him up. Oh,
+my darling, how I loved you when he said that! It was brave of you to
+say such words, but my boy deserves them. If ever a girl was worshipped,
+he worshipped you.'
+
+'Dear Mrs. Blake, I think we will not speak of that.'
+
+'Why should we not speak of it? It is the only thing that will comfort
+me, and him too. Ah, if you only loved him as he loves you, there would
+be no difficulty. Many a girl has given up more for her lover than you
+will ever be asked to give up, and has found her reward in a happy
+life.'
+
+'I will not pretend to misunderstand you,' returned Audrey simply; but
+she felt as she spoke that her father had been right to dread this
+interview. 'I know what you would insinuate--you would have me marry
+Cyril without my parents' consent.'
+
+'I would,' was Mrs. Blake's unabashed reply; 'and where would be the
+harm, Audrey? You are of age; you have your own money. No one has a
+right to prevent your marriage. Of course, your people would be angry at
+first, but after a time they would relent. My darling girl, think of it:
+would it not be a noble act of self-sacrifice? And it would save Cyril!'
+
+'He would not wish to save himself at the risk of my happiness and peace
+of mind,' she replied calmly. 'Dear Mrs. Blake, how strange that you
+should not know your own son better than that! Cyril would never marry
+me without my father's consent, neither would I marry him. Under such
+circumstances we should both be wretched.'
+
+'And you call that love?' returned Mrs. Blake with a sneer. 'I am
+different from you, Audrey. I would have given up home, country,
+everything, for the sake of the man I loved; that is why I hated Mat,
+because I was bound to him, and the other man was free. It just maddened
+me! What!' interrupting herself, 'are you going to leave me?'
+
+'It is useless to stay,' returned Audrey, in a pained voice. 'If you
+talk like this, it is far better for me to go.'
+
+Then Mrs. Blake burst into passionate tears, and clasped her in her
+arms.
+
+'Going! when I have never thanked you for your goodness to my boy; when
+I have never told you how dearly I have loved you for it! Audrey,
+forgive me, and stay with me a little, and I will try not to talk so
+wildly. It makes me feel better only to look at you--and you used to
+love me a little.'
+
+Then very reluctantly Audrey suffered herself to be persuaded, and to
+remain for another half-hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+MOLLIE GOES INTO EXILE
+
+     'There are some natures that cannot unfold under pressure, or in
+     the presence of unregarding power. Hers was one. They require a
+     clear space round them, the removal of everything which may
+     overmaster them, and constant delicate attention.'--MARK
+     RUTHERFORD.
+
+
+Audrey had no cause to regret her concession. Mrs. Blake quieted down
+the moment she resumed her seat; and though the remainder of her
+conversation concerned herself and Cyril, she did not venture again on
+any dangerous allusion.
+
+It was only when Audrey said that she must really go, as she had
+promised her mother to be back by tea-time, that she made an attempt to
+coax her into sending Cyril a message; but Audrey's strong sense of
+honour made her proof against this temptation. She would send him no
+message at all. Even if she thought it right to do so, how could she
+rely on Mrs. Blake's veracity? how could she be sure that it might not
+be delivered with annotations from her own fertile brain?
+
+'But you will at least send him your love?' pleaded Mrs. Blake.
+
+'There is no need for me to send him that,' returned Audrey with rising
+colour. 'Indeed, there is no need of any message at all: Cyril and I
+understand each other.'
+
+And then Mrs. Blake cried a little and called her a hard-hearted girl,
+but relented the next minute, and kissed her affectionately.
+
+'You will tell Mollie to come to me as usual to-morrow?' were Audrey's
+parting words, and Mrs. Blake nodded assent.
+
+As Audrey opened the green gate some impulse made her look back. Mrs.
+Blake was still on the threshold, watching her, and her large dark eyes
+were full of tears. There was something pathetic in her appearance. With
+a sudden impulse, for which she was unable to account, Audrey went back
+and gave her another kiss.
+
+'We do not know when we shall meet again,' she said in a low voice. 'Try
+to be as happy as you can, and to make him happy too.'
+
+She was glad that it was over, she told herself, as she walked back to
+Woodcote; nevertheless, she could not shake off a certain sense of
+depression. That dear Gray Cottage--how she had grown to love it, and
+what happy hours she had passed there, sitting by that window and
+watching the pigeons fluttering among the arches! Her heart was soft
+towards the woman she had left. Could she help it, she thought, if her
+moral sense were blunted and distorted? There was something defective
+and warped in her nature--something that seemed to make her less
+accountable than other people. Truth was not dear to her, or her
+marriage-vows sacred in her eyes. How came it that she and Matthew
+O'Brien should have a son like Cyril? Audrey's girlish brains grew
+confused over questions that might well baffle a psychologist; she could
+make nothing of them.
+
+Mollie came to her the next morning with her eyes swollen with crying.
+
+'Oh, dear Miss Ross!' she exclaimed, the moment she entered the room,
+'do you know mamma says that we are going away to-morrow? I thought it
+was to be next week, and Biddy thought so too; but mamma says that Cyril
+is all alone in the lodgings, and that we ought to go to him at once.
+Biddy and she are packing up the books and things, and mamma seemed to
+think that I ought to have remained to help her; but I told her that I
+must--I must say-good-bye to my dear, dear Miss Ross;' and here Mollie
+gave her a low-spirited hug.
+
+'My dear Mollie,' returned Audrey kindly, 'I have arranged that already
+with your mother, and you are to spend the whole morning with me. We
+will not do any lessons; I can see you are not fit for them. And it is
+such a lovely morning. We will go in the garden, and sit on that nice
+sunny seat overlooking Deep-water Chine. Do you remember our voyage
+there, and how contemptuous you were about the scenery?' but this
+allusion to one of the happiest days she had ever spent in her young
+life only brought on a fresh burst of grief.
+
+Poor Mollie was broken-hearted at the idea of leaving her friend, and it
+was a long time before Audrey could induce her to look at things in a
+less lugubrious light. Michael, prowling about with his cigarette, and
+followed closely by his short-legged favourite, came upon them sitting
+hand-in-hand on a bench near the pond; but he was careful not to betray
+his presence, and he called off Booty rather sternly when the
+affectionate little animal showed some disposition to join his friends.
+Neither of them saw him. Audrey was talking earnestly, but he only heard
+a fragment of what she was saying.
+
+'So you see, dear Mollie,' she went on, in a soft, persuasive voice,
+'that you will be as great a comfort to me when you are away as you have
+been here. When I think of you all, I shall say to myself: "Mollie is
+taking care of them."'
+
+'Yes, I see; and indeed, indeed I will try to do my best for Cyril and
+mamma,' replied Mollie, with a sob. 'I know how unhappy poor Cyril is;
+and mamma will not be the comfort to him that she used to be. Is it not
+sad to think of it, Miss Ross? Mamma sometimes shows me his letters--she
+always did, you know--but somehow they seem so different. I wonder
+sometimes if she notices the change in them; but she never says so. He
+does not want her to come up to London--one can see that so plainly--he
+keeps begging her to be patient, and give him time to settle things. But
+you know mamma: she is always in such a hurry--she never can wait for
+anything,' finished Mollie, in her artless way.
+
+Audrey suppressed a smile. Mrs. Blake's children certainly read her
+truly; but with all her faults they loved her well. Perhaps Kester had
+stood aloof from her most; but Mollie had always been devoted to her
+mother.
+
+'You will miss the country, of course,' went on Audrey cheerfully; 'but
+London has its charms. You must get your brother to take you in the
+parks and Kensington Gardens; you must tell him that you and Zack want
+exercise, and then he will not refuse.'
+
+'Mamma will walk with me,' returned Mollie disconsolately. 'She is very
+fond of crowded streets and shops; she will want me to go with her, and
+then we shall be obliged to leave Zack at home, for fear he should be
+lost. Oh, I know all about it!' continued Mollie, with a sigh. 'I shall
+be far too tired to walk with Cyril, even if he asked me; but he would
+not, because he knows mamma would be hurt: she always likes him to ask
+her.'
+
+'Never mind,' replied Audrey, changing the subject abruptly. 'Remember,
+Mollie, we can only do our best for people, and leave all the rest. I am
+sure that in a thousand ways you will be a comfort to them. You have
+always been their thoughtful little housekeeper, and you can be that
+still. You can keep the place bright and cheery, and make it look as
+home-like as possible. And, Mollie, I want you to do something; but it
+is to be a secret between you and me, and no one--no one'--repeating the
+word emphatically--'is to know about it.'
+
+And Mollie promised faithfully to hold her tongue.
+
+'Your mother is passionately fond of flowers.' (But Audrey, in her
+heart, knew someone else loved them too.) 'I want you to lay out this
+prudently and by degrees;' and she slipped a sovereign into Mollie's
+hand. 'Flowers are so plentiful in London, and you can always have a
+nice fresh bunch for the breakfast-table. I remember your mother once
+saying she would go without food to buy flowers. When I think you have
+come to an end of the money, I shall send you some more.'
+
+'But if anyone asks me who bought them,' asked Mollie, with one of her
+wide-open glances, 'what can I say then, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Say that you have bought them with your own money--for it is your
+money, Mollie; and if you would rather buy gloves with it, you are
+welcome to do so.'
+
+But Mollie protested eagerly that she would far rather buy flowers.
+
+'Cyril is so fond of them,' she added innocently, 'and I shall always
+take care to have a good-sized bunch on his writing-table. But what
+shall I do about lessons, Miss Ross?' she continued, when this point was
+settled. 'I am getting on so beautifully with French and music, and it
+will be such a pity to lose it all. I asked mamma the other evening, and
+she said she was sure she did not know; she might help me with my
+French, but she was afraid Cyril could not afford music-lessons.
+Besides, there would be the piano to hire; for of course I must
+practise. Oh dear! I don't see how I am to get on!' with another big
+sigh.
+
+'I think we must leave all that for the present, dear Mollie,' replied
+Audrey, rather sorrowfully. 'One needs a great deal of faith when things
+go crooked. Keep up by yourself as well as you can, and leave the music
+alone for a little. By and by, when you think he can bear it, you might
+speak to your brother; but if he cannot afford it----'
+
+Audrey stopped. Michael's generosity must not be taxed any further; but
+she had money of her own, and nothing would please her more than to
+spend a little on Mollie's education. Would her father allow it? she
+wondered.
+
+'I think we must leave this question for the present, Mollie,' she said,
+in her decided way. 'Make up your mind not to trouble about it for a
+month or two.'
+
+And Mollie, with her usual sweet unselfishness, agreed to this.
+
+Audrey sent her away cheered, and a good deal comforted, at receiving
+her dear Miss Ross's permission to write long letters.
+
+'I don't mind how long they are,' Audrey had observed, with an indulgent
+smile; 'but you must not write too often, neither must you expect to
+hear from me always in return. My letters will be very few, dear Mollie,
+and they are only for your own eyes--remember that.' And when Mollie had
+promised this with some reluctance, the gong sounded for luncheon, and
+Audrey was obliged to dismiss her a little hurriedly.
+
+Audrey was surprised to find how much she missed her favourite. Mollie's
+lessons had occupied the greater part of her mornings, and lately this
+occupation had been a boon to her.
+
+Audrey had never loved idleness, but now she loathed it; her girlish
+employments no longer satisfied her. She made wider margins for her
+activity, and schemed with an anxiety that looked like restlessness how
+she might fill up the day.
+
+Perhaps her happiest hours, after Mollie left her, were spent in the
+Hillside nursery, playing with her baby-nephew. Geraldine noticed with
+secret satisfaction that her boy was becoming an engrossing interest to
+his young aunt.
+
+'I am sure he knows you, Audrey,' she would say. 'Look how he stretches
+out his dear little arms and coos to you to take him! Go to Aunt Audrey,
+my precious!' and Geraldine would place him in her sister's arms as
+though she loved to see them together.
+
+Geraldine had certain fine instincts of her own. Her womanly intuition
+told her that nothing could be more healing than the touch of those baby
+fingers. When Audrey sat down opposite to her, with her nephew sprawling
+on her lap, and kicking up his pink toes in a baby's aimless fashion,
+her face always looked happier, and a more contented look came into her
+eyes.
+
+'You are very like your mother, Leonard,' she would say to him: 'but I
+do not believe that you will ever be as handsome.'
+
+Baby's gurgling answer was no doubt rich with infantile wisdom, if he
+could only have couched it in mortal language. But, all the same, he was
+fulfilling his mission. Audrey felt somehow as though things must come
+right some day when baby gripped her finger and held it fast, or else
+tangled her hair. 'You are a happy woman, Gage,' she said one day; but
+she was a little sorry that she made the remark when Geraldine got up
+quickly and kissed her, with tears in her eyes.
+
+'You will be happy, too, some day, my darling,' she said very tenderly.
+But to this Audrey made no reply.
+
+Mollie was faithful to her compact, and did not write for three whole
+weeks. The school had reassembled by that time, and a tall, pale young
+man with spectacles filled Cyril's place at table. Audrey took very
+little notice of him. When Michael was there, she talked to him; but she
+found any conversation with the new-comer almost impossible.
+
+'It hurts me to see him there,' she said once to her mother, and her lip
+quivered as she spoke. And of course her mother understood her.
+
+'Yes, dear, it is very hard; your father was only saying so last night.
+I think he notices how silent you are at luncheon. Mr. Gisbourne is
+certainly not prepossessing--not like our dear Cyril; but your father
+says he is an excellent fellow.'
+
+'I think I shall change my place at table, mother. I shall sit between
+you and father. That is, if you do not mind,' she added, with ready
+courtesy.
+
+'My love, as though I should mind! And I am sure your father will be
+delighted to have you. He was only speaking of you an hour ago. He
+thinks you are behaving so well, Audrey, and so does Percival. Percival
+declared that he was quite proud of you at the Charringtons' "at home";
+that it must have been such an ordeal for you to meet all those people.
+A girl in your position is generally so sensitive; but he told me that
+even Geraldine could not have been more dignified and at her ease.'
+
+'That is high praise from Percival,' returned Audrey, smiling. 'He
+thinks Gage's manners are perfection--and so they are; but, mother, he
+need not have praised me so much. The people were nothing to me--I
+hardly thought of them at all. I was only remembering the last time I
+was there, and how Cyril was with me; it was the saddest evening I have
+spent yet.'
+
+And then she sighed and disengaged herself from her mother's embrace.
+
+'Don't let us talk of it, mother dear; one can bear things better if one
+does not speak of them. I am going to drive with Gage now, and perhaps
+she will keep me to dinner;' and then she went quickly away.
+
+After all, it was better to do something than to waste her time in
+complaining: it was seldom that she allowed herself to speak of her
+feelings even to her mother, and if she suffered a word or two to escape
+her, she always reproached herself afterwards for her weakness.
+
+When Mollie's letter arrived the next day she left it unopened until she
+was in her own room. Michael was up in town, as usual. He rarely spent
+more than a few days together at Woodcote now. Audrey did not regret his
+absence as she would otherwise have done, because she knew he would be
+with Cyril.
+
+When her father glanced at her letter she said quietly that it was from
+Mollie, and then he made no further observation.
+
+But when she was in her own room she opened it somewhat eagerly. 'Dear
+little Mollie! I never thought I should miss her quite so much,' she
+thought.
+
+Evidently Mollie had taken a long time to write that letter; it had been
+commenced two days after her arrival in London, and it had not been
+completed until now.
+
+The first two or three pages, written in Mollie's girlish angular
+handwriting, were filled with plaintive lamentations over her enforced
+exile and separation from her dear Miss Ross; and here and there a
+bleared word showed touchingly where a great tear had rolled down and
+blotted the page; but the next entry, written a few days afterwards,
+showed some signs that the prospect had brightened a little. One passage
+gave great pleasure to Audrey:
+
+'Mamma likes our lodgings excessively, and though I shall never love any
+place like our dear Gray Cottage, they are really very nice; indeed,
+they are better than any lodgings we have been in yet. Mamma says she
+never saw rooms so well furnished; the carpets and papers are rather
+ugly, and I cannot say much for the curtains; but there is a delicious
+couch--one of those soft, springy ones that are so comfortable, rather
+like the one in the Woodcote drawing-room, and two delightfully easy
+chairs.
+
+'Then, in the little room we call Cyril's study, there is really a very
+handsome writing-table, with one of those green reading-lamps that Dr.
+Ross always uses, and a nice little secretaire for papers. Mamma was so
+charmed when she saw that; she told Cyril that he only wanted a few
+stained shelves to hold his books, and that then he would be as snug as
+possible. I thought Cyril looked a little queer when she said that, and
+when she exclaimed at the softness of the couch I saw such an odd smile
+on his face. I fancy he must have bought it himself, and that he does
+not wish mamma to know it.' ('Oh, you little goose!' observed Audrey,
+when she came to this; but her eyes were very bright as she went on with
+the letter.)
+
+'There were such quantities of flowers and plants about the room when we
+arrived, and the most beautiful tea set out on the big round table.
+Mamma laughed, and said Cyril was very extravagant to provide such
+luxuries; but he told her he had had nothing to do with it, and he did
+not seem to enjoy anything.
+
+'I am afraid he works too hard. Mamma is beginning to say that she might
+as well have remained in Rutherford, for all she sees of him; but I know
+she does not mean it, for she is as happy as possible.
+
+'Cyril never gets home until half-past six, and then we have tea. His
+pupil comes to him at eight for two hours. I think Zack has the best of
+it. Cyril always takes him out for a long walk before breakfast. I
+should like to go with them, but I think Cyril prefers going alone. He
+only walks with mamma on Sunday afternoon, and then he comes in looking
+so tired. He often falls asleep when he sits down. I never remember his
+ever doing such a thing before; but mamma says she is sure that he
+sleeps badly, though he will never own to it. Cyril never did like to be
+questioned about himself.
+
+'We see Captain Burnett sometimes, and Cyril says he often meets him on
+his way home. One day Captain Burnett asked me if I should like to see
+some pictures, and of course I said yes. We drove such a long way in a
+hansom, and I did so enjoy seeing all those beautiful pictures. Captain
+Burnett was kind; he explained everything to me, and when he thought I
+was tired he took me to a grand place, where we had ices and coffee.
+
+'He asked me a great many questions, and when I told him that I had no
+one to teach me now I had left my dear Miss Ross, he looked very grave.
+He wanted to know if mamma did not help me at all, and I was obliged to
+confess that the French books were still unopened; and then he looked
+grave again and said, "Poor little thing!" as though he were sorry for
+me.
+
+'Well, was it not strange?--the very next night Cyril began talking to
+mamma about it. He told her that now Kester was away they ought to be
+able to afford to give me a good education, that they were not poorer
+than they had been at Rutherford, and that something must be done at
+once.
+
+'Cyril spoke as though he thought mamma was to blame, and then mamma
+cried, as she always does if Cyril finds fault with her; but the very
+next day she went out alone, and in the evening she told Cyril that she
+had found a very good school close by our lodgings, where they had
+excellent masters, and that she had arranged that I was to go there four
+times a week to take French, German, and music lessons. I could see
+Cyril was pleased, though he said very little, but by and by he asked me
+what I should do about a piano, and mamma suggested that we should hire
+one. Is this not nice, my dear Miss Ross, and is not Cyril a darling for
+thinking of everything so nicely?'
+
+'Ah, Mollie, I am afraid you are a sad goose!' was Audrey's inward
+ejaculation at this point, and there was a smile on her lips as she
+finished the letter.
+
+Michael was fulfilling his promise nobly. Audrey knew him well enough to
+be sure that those meetings with Cyril were by no means accidental.
+'Whatsoever thou doest, do it with thy might,' was a precept literally
+obeyed by Michael Burnett. When he held out that right hand of
+fellowship to his rival, there was no sense of grudging in his mind. If
+a cheery word or two would brighten Cyril's day, and make his hard life
+a little less unendurable, Michael would speak that word at the cost of
+any inconvenience to himself. Audrey may be forgiven if she cherished
+the notion that Michael's frequent visits to London were undertaken more
+for Cyril's benefit than his own; and if Michael could have given a
+somewhat different version of his motives, he kept all such
+interpretation to himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+AUDREY RECEIVES A TELEGRAM
+
+     'One fourth of life is intelligible, the other three-fourths is
+     unintelligible darkness; and our earliest duty is to cultivate the
+     habit of not looking round the corner.'--MARK RUTHERFORD.
+
+     'Thou shalt lose thy life, and find it; thou shalt boldly cast it
+         forth;
+     And then back again receiving, know it in its endless worth.'
+
+                                               ARCHBISHOP TRENCH.
+
+
+Audrey thought it was the longest summer term that she had ever known;
+never in her life had weeks or months passed so slowly.
+
+To all outward appearance she was well and cheerful, and spent her time
+much as usual--helping her mother and visiting her poor people in the
+morning, and in the afternoon attending cricket matches or playing
+tennis at the various garden-parties of the season. The nine days'
+wonder about the Blakes' sudden disappearance was over, and the
+Rutherford ladies no longer whispered strange tales into each other's
+ears--each more marvellous than the last. It was said and believed by
+more than one person that Audrey's engagement had been broken off
+because Dr. Ross had discovered that there was hereditary insanity in
+the Blake family; indeed, one lady--a notorious gossip, and who was
+somewhat deaf--was understood to say that she had heard Mrs. Blake was
+at that moment in a private lunatic asylum.
+
+That Audrey Ross did not take her broken engagement much to heart was
+the general opinion in Rutherford. Would a girl play tennis, dance, or
+organise picnics, they said, if she were languishing in
+heart-sickness?--and there was certainly no appearance of effort in the
+readiness with which Audrey responded to any plan that her young friends
+proposed. As they remarked, 'Audrey Ross was always up to fun.' But
+Michael Burnett could have told them a different story if they had asked
+him. Audrey's sweet, sound disposition made her peculiarly alive to a
+sense of duty.
+
+'One must think of other people, always and under all circumstances,'
+she had said to him when her trouble was fresh upon her, and he knew
+that she was only acting up to her words.
+
+She would play because other people wished to play, not because her
+heart was in it. During his brief visits to Woodcote they were always
+together, and more than once he told himself that he could see a great
+change in her. She had at times a tired, burdened look, as though weary
+thoughts were habitual to her. But she never spoke to him of Cyril, or
+questioned him in any way. He would tell her unasked about Mollie, and
+now and then he would drop a word casually about Cyril.
+
+'I met Blake the other day,' he would say. 'I think he looks better,
+though he says the hot weather tries him; he is getting on with his
+work, and appears to like it.' Or another time: 'I dined with Unwin last
+week; he and Blake seem to hit it off famously. Unwin says he has far
+more discrimination and intelligence than other young men of his age,
+and that for steadiness and application he might be fifty. But he thinks
+he ought to take more exercise; his hard work and the heat together are
+making him thin.'
+
+Audrey remembered this speech of Michael's, as, a month later on, she
+sat on the Whitby sands. She had yielded to Geraldine's persuasion to
+accompany them to the seaside. Dr. Ross and his wife were paying visits
+in Cumberland, Michael was in North Wales with an artist friend, and
+Audrey had accepted her sister's invitation very willingly.
+
+Both Percival and Geraldine were very kind to her, she thought. They let
+her wander about alone and do as she liked, and they were always ready
+to plan something for her enjoyment--a drive or a sail, or a day on the
+moors. Audrey liked being with them, and baby Leonard was more
+fascinating than ever; yet it may be doubted if she would not have been
+happier at Rutherford. The absence of all duties, of any settled
+employment, tried her. A holiday, to be thoroughly enjoyed, must be
+attended with a disengaged mind, and with a certain freedom from worry;
+and this was not possible with Audrey. She would talk to her sister
+cheerfully, or play with Leonard, and she was an intelligent companion
+for Mr. Harcourt when they took long walks together; but in her moments
+of solitude, when she roamed alone over the yellow sands with the fresh
+salt wind blowing in her face, her thoughts would be sad enough as she
+thought of Cyril in his hot London lodgings.
+
+'Oh, my darling, if you could only be with me and feel this wind!' she
+would think, with a great rush of pity and tenderness; 'if I could only
+take your place a little and bear things for you!' and the sense that
+she could do nothing for him would lie like a load on her heart.
+
+'I think Audrey is getting over her trouble,' Geraldine said one day to
+her husband. 'Baby is doing her good; and really, when she is playing
+with him she seems just like her dear old self.'
+
+'Of course she will get over it,' returned Mr. Harcourt impatiently;
+'all girls do. I tell you what, Jerry: when we get back to Hillside we
+will have Graham down to stop with us.'
+
+'Oh, did you mean Lionel Graham all the time?' returned Geraldine,
+opening her eyes very widely. 'Is he the man you always wanted for
+Audrey? He is nice, of course--all the Grahams are nice--but he is
+dreadfully ugly.'
+
+'Nonsense, my love! Graham ugly, with that fine head of his! I tell you
+the girl is lucky who gets such a clever fellow. I recollect he was
+rather struck with her last spring. We will have him down and see if
+they can take to each other.'
+
+'But, Percy dear, you forget Audrey declares she is still engaged to
+Cyril Blake.'
+
+'Stuff and nonsense!' replied her husband, waxing exceedingly irate at
+this remark. 'I wonder at you--I do indeed!--repeating anything so
+ridiculous! Has not Blake given her up?--and very proper of him,
+too--and has not your father forbidden her to have anything more to do
+with him? My love, with all my respect for your judgment, I must differ
+from you. Audrey is not the girl to propose anything so indelicate--so
+altogether wanting in propriety--as to thrust herself upon a man who
+very properly declines to marry her. No, no; we will have Graham down.
+He is a first-rate fellow, and when he makes up his mind to a thing, he
+sticks at nothing. That's the way to win a girl--eh, Jerry?' And
+Geraldine blushed beautifully as she recalled Percival's bold wooing.
+
+'Well, do as you like,' she said tranquilly; 'but I don't believe Audrey
+will look at him.' And then she made signs to the nurse to bring her the
+baby; and Mr. Harcourt forgot his match-making schemes as he played with
+his son and heir.
+
+Audrey was the only one who was glad when the time came for them to
+return to Rutherford: her mother's face was a delicious sight to her;
+and as she presided again at her little tea-table she gave vent to a
+fervent 'Oh, how glad I am to be at home again!'
+
+'That sounds as though you have not enjoyed your holiday, Audrey; and
+yet Geraldine was so pleased to have you.'
+
+'But I have enjoyed myself, mother dear. Whitby is beautiful, and I did
+just what I liked, and Gage and Percival could not have been kinder or
+more thoughtful; and then Leonard is such a darling!'
+
+'You look all the better for your change; but you are still a little
+thin, love,' returned her mother, scrutinising her daughter rather
+narrowly. But Audrey disclaimed this charge: if she were thin, it was
+because Percival had taken her such long walks, she declared. But she
+was not thin--she was very well; only she was tired of her idleness, and
+meant to work hard.
+
+'I wish Michael were at home,' she went on. 'He has returned from Wales,
+but he means to stay for a week or two in South Audley Street. Kester is
+with him. Home is never quite the same without Michael,' she finished,
+looking round her as though she missed something.
+
+Michael had really stayed up in London for Kester's sake; but he was
+glad of any excuse that kept him away from Woodcote. When Kester's visit
+was over, he went with him to Victoria, and saw him off. He had some
+business in Aldersgate Street, and he thought he might as well take a
+Circle train, and go on. Michael always hated business in the City--the
+noise of the crowded thoroughfares jarred on him--and he thought he
+might as well get it over. He had finished his business, and was walking
+down Cheapside, when, to his surprise, he saw Cyril Blake coming out of
+a shop. Cyril seemed equally surprised at this unexpected _rencontre_.
+
+'I know you haunt Cromwell and Exhibition Roads,' he said, in rather an
+amused tone; 'but I always understood you shunned the City.'
+
+'So I do; but one may have business there sometimes,' returned Michael,
+linking his arm in Cyril's; for the two had grown fast friends, in spite
+of the disparity in their ages. 'I suppose it would be inquisitive on my
+part to ask what brings you here at this time in the afternoon?'
+
+'Not at all. I have only been to my tailor's,' replied Cyril, smiling.
+'I am not a swell like you, and City prices suit my pocket better than
+West-End ones. I was feeling rather dilapidated, so, as Unwin dismissed
+me early this afternoon, I thought I would attend to my outer man.'
+
+'You would have been wiser to have run down to Teddington and had a pull
+up the river. You look as though you want fresh air, Blake. I don't know
+about your outer man, as you call it; but I must say you look uncommonly
+seedy.'
+
+'Do I? Oh, I am all right,' he added hastily. 'I have not been used to
+spend a summer in town. How did you get on in Worth Wales, Burnett? I
+was never there, but I hear the scenery is beautiful.'
+
+'So it is. You should see some of Jack Cooper's sketches; they would
+give an idea of the place;' and Michael launched into an enthusiastic
+description of a thunderstorm he had witnessed under Snowdon. 'I took
+Booty to pay his devoirs at the tomb of Bethgelert. On the whole, I
+think Booty enjoyed his trip as much as we did.'
+
+Michael had so much to say about his trip, that they found themselves on
+the platform before he had half finished. It was half-past five by this
+time, and a good many business men were returning home. The station was
+somewhat crowded, but as they piloted their way through the knots of
+passengers Michael still talked on. Cyril had listened at first with
+interest; he was becoming much attached to his new friend, and though
+his masculine undemonstrativeness forbade him to say much about his
+feelings, his gratitude to Michael was deep and intense, and amid his
+own troubles he had an unselfish satisfaction in thinking that, whatever
+his own future might be, Kester's was safe. By and by his attention
+began to flag; he was watching an old man who stood at a little distance
+from them at the edge of the platform. He was a very dirty old man, and
+at any other time his appearance would certainly not have inspired Cyril
+with the wish to look at him a second time; but he was attracted by his
+swaying, lurching movements, which would have conveyed to any practised
+eye that the old reprobate was in an advanced stage of intoxication.
+What if he were to lose his balance and fall over the edge of the
+platform? The down train was momentarily expected. Cyril could bear it
+no longer.
+
+'Excuse me, Burnett,' he said hastily; 'that old fellow looks as though
+he might topple over any minute;' and before Michael could understand
+what he meant, he had dived across the platform.
+
+The whistle of the advancing train sounded at that moment, and almost
+simultaneously there was a shriek of terror from some woman standing at
+the farther end.
+
+'Poor wretch! he has done for himself,' Michael heard someone say. 'He
+went clean over.'
+
+Michael was slightly short-sighted, and a crowd of people intercepted
+his view, and he could not at once make his way through them. He could
+not see Cyril, but the surging, excited throng all veering towards the
+end of the platform told him that some serious accident had occurred.
+
+Blake must have been an eyewitness of the whole thing, he thought, as he
+tried to elbow his way through horrified men and hysterical women. If he
+could only find him! And then a very stout man in a navvy's garb blocked
+up his passage.
+
+'Is the poor old man killed?' Michael asked; but he feared what the
+answer would be. Was the gray-headed sinner summoned in this terrible
+manner to the bar of his offended Judge?
+
+'Lord bless you, sir!' returned the man, 'he is as right as possible;
+the train did not touch him. It is the other poor fellow that is done
+for, I expect. Me and my mate have just got him out.'
+
+A sudden horrible, almost sickening sensation of fear came to Michael.
+
+'Oh, my God! not that, not that!' burst from his lips as he literally
+fought his way down the platform. 'Let me pass, sir! I believe I know
+him!' he cried hoarsely, and the man in pity to his white face drew
+back.
+
+There was a motionless figure lying on the bench at the other end,
+surrounded by porters and strangers. Michael darted towards it, but when
+he caught sight of the face he uttered a groan. Alas, alas! he knew it
+too well.
+
+'Give me place,' he said, almost fiercely; 'that dead man is my friend.'
+
+'He is not dead, Burnett,' observed a gentleman, who was supporting
+Cyril's head; 'but he is badly hurt, poor fellow! We must get him away
+at once.'
+
+'Thank Heaven it is you, Abercrombie!' returned Michael excitedly; 'he
+is safer with you than with any man alive.'
+
+But Dr. Abercrombie shook his head gravely.
+
+'My carriage is outside, and is at your service,' he said; 'and for the
+matter of that, so am I. Let me give these men directions how to move
+him.'
+
+Then Michael stood aside while the doctor issued his commands.
+
+Cyril had not regained full consciousness, but as Dr. Abercrombie placed
+himself beside him and applied remedies from time to time, a low moan
+now and then escaped from his lips.
+
+Michael, who had to sit with the coachman, thought that long drive would
+never end, and yet Dr. Abercrombie drove good horses. It seemed hours
+before they reached Mortimer Street, and the strain on his nerves made
+him look so ghastly as he went into the house to prepare Mrs. Blake,
+that she uttered a shriek as soon as she saw his face.
+
+'You have come to tell me my boy is dead!' she exclaimed, catching hold
+of him.
+
+'No, he is not dead; but he is badly hurt, Abercrombie says. Let me go,
+Mrs. Blake; they want my help to carry him in. Is there a room ready?
+Mollie, look after your mother;' and Michael sped on his sad errand.
+
+'Do not let anyone in, Burnett, while I examine him. Lock the door;' and
+Michael obeyed the doctor's orders, though an agonised voice outside
+entreated admittance.
+
+Michael thought the doctor's examination would never end; but by and by
+he came up to Michael and drew him aside.
+
+'Do you wish another opinion, Burnett?' he asked abruptly; 'but it is
+kinder to tell you that the thing is hopeless.'
+
+'Good heavens, Abercrombie! Do you mean he will not live?'
+
+'Only a few hours--he is hurt internally. They were both down on the
+rails, you know: I saw the whole thing; and he flung up the old man with
+one hand--I never saw anything so splendidly done--but the wheel of the
+engine caught him, and before they could stop the train the mischief was
+done.'
+
+'Will he suffer? Can nothing be done for him? Abercrombie, I would give
+half my fortune to save the life of that man.'
+
+'He will not suffer long,' returned Dr. Abercrombie kindly. He was a
+rough, hard-featured Scotchman, but no man had a better heart, as
+Michael knew. 'I will do all I can for him, Burnett, for his own sake as
+well as yours. I think he wants to speak to you, but he cannot talk
+much; it is agony to him.'
+
+And Michael stepped up to the bed. In the emergency he had regained his
+old calmness of manner, and as Cyril's eyes were fixed on his face, he
+bent over him and said gently:
+
+'Do not speak, my dear fellow; I know what you wish to say. I will
+telegraph for her at once.'
+
+Cyril's damp, cold hand closed over his.
+
+'Thanks, thanks! that is what I wanted. She would like it, and it will
+do no harm.'
+
+The last few words seemed intended for a question, and Michael answered
+without hesitation.
+
+'Harm! she would never forgive us if we did not send for her.'
+
+Then a faint light came into Cyril's eyes.
+
+'I hope for her sake I shall not suffer; but it will soon be over: I
+heard him say so.' He seemed to speak with difficulty. 'Don't look so
+sorry about it, Burnett; it is much better so, and the poor old man was
+saved. Oh!'
+
+That expression of pain wrung unwillingly from his lips drew the doctor
+to him, and he made a sign to Michael to leave them.
+
+An hour later Audrey received the following telegram:
+
+     'An accident. Cyril Blake badly hurt. Condition critical. Come at
+     once. Will meet the last train at King's Cross.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+'INASMUCH'
+
+     'He, being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled a long
+     time.'--WISDOM OF SOLOMON.
+
+
+All her life long Audrey never forgot that long weary journey. The
+lateness of the hour compelled her to take a circuitous route to London.
+Dr. Ross accompanied her part of the way, and did not leave her until he
+placed her under the care of the guard, who promised to keep the
+compartment for her.
+
+'You will be all right now, Audrey,' he said, with a poor attempt at
+cheerfulness. 'I have tipped the guard half-a-crown--a piece of
+extravagance on my part, I believe, as you only stop once between this
+and King's Cross, and Michael will meet you at the other end. God bless
+you, my child!' he continued, with deeper feeling, as the train began to
+move. 'Give my love to Cyril, and try and trust him to his Heavenly
+Father.'
+
+'I will try, dear father,' was Audrey's answer.
+
+And then she leant back on her seat and attempted to pray; but she only
+found herself repeating over and over again the same petition--that she
+might be in time; for Michael's message, so carefully worded, had read
+to her like Cyril's death-warrant. 'He will die,' she had said with
+tearless eyes to her father, as she had carried him the telegram.
+
+It was eleven o'clock before she reached King's Cross; but before the
+train stopped she could see Michael standing alone under a gas-lamp, and
+before he discerned her she was beside him.
+
+'Am I in time, Michael?'
+
+Then he started, and drew her hand through his arm.
+
+'Quite in time, dear; he has still a few hours to live.'
+
+For he saw at once that she was prepared for the worst.
+
+'That is well,' she replied calmly; 'let us go.'
+
+And then Michael handed her into the hansom.
+
+How pale she was, he thought, and how sad those dear gray eyes looked,
+as she turned to him and asked that question that he so dreaded to hear!
+
+'We are out of the station now, and I can hear better. What was the
+accident, Michael? How did it all happen? Tell me everything, please.'
+
+Then, as far as he was able, he told her all, and she heard him very
+quietly, though once he felt the shudder that passed through her when
+she first understood the nature of the terrible thing that had happened.
+
+'Abercrombie saw it all from the first,' he went on; 'he said he never
+saw anything so splendidly done. Not a man in a thousand would have
+ventured it. What did I tell you, Audrey?--that Blake was just the
+fellow to win the Victoria Cross.'
+
+'He was very brave,' she murmured; but she trembled all over as she
+spoke.
+
+'He was more than brave. What was my action in Zululand compared to his?
+He stepped into the jaws of death quietly, and with his eyes opened, for
+he must have known that two could not have been saved. He has given his
+noble life for a wretched worthless one. It sounds inhuman to say it,
+but who would have mourned if that poor old man had been swept away?
+Would it not have been better if he had left him to his fate?'
+
+'You must not say that!' returned Audrey. And now the tears were running
+down her face. 'It is this that makes it so noble, so Christ-like--a
+life laid down out of love and pity for the worthless. My brave Cyril!
+Who is more fit to go than he? Ah, I knew him so well; he is very
+reserved; he is not one to speak of religion--very few young men do; he
+never liked to do so; but in a simple, manly way he has tried to live
+it. I always knew he was good. Yes, Michael, it was better for him to
+give up his fresh young life than for that old man to die in his sins.'
+
+He could not steady his voice to answer her. Would any other girl have
+taken it in this way? He felt there were depths in her nature that he
+had not fathomed yet. The nobleness of the action seemed to lift her up
+out of her grief. The heroic death was a fit ending to that brave life,
+short as it was.
+
+There were a few minutes' silence, during which she wept quietly, and
+then she roused herself to ask after Mrs. Blake. A deeper shade passed
+over Michael's face as she put the question.
+
+'Poor soul!' he returned in a grieved voice; 'I fear it will go very
+hardly with her. Abercrombie tried to say a word to her about her son's
+hopeless condition, but she dropped at his feet like a dead thing. I had
+to leave him with her, and go back to poor Blake, as he was asking for
+her. I am afraid Abercrombie had to be very stern with her, for by and
+by she crept in quietly enough, and sat down beside him. When I left he
+was talking to her, but I do not believe that she understood a word that
+he said; she looks as though she has been turned to stone.'
+
+Audrey sighed, and a moment afterwards she said a little wearily:
+
+'Oh, how slowly we are going! Shall we ever be there?'
+
+Then Michael took her hand gently in his; she was so patient, so good:
+if only he could comfort her!
+
+'We have a very fast horse, and a capital driver. Yes, we shall be there
+soon now. Your journey must have tired you, dear. I wish someone could
+have come with you.'
+
+'Father wanted to do so, but I told him I would rather be alone. Never
+mind about me, Michael; what does it matter if I am tired or not? If I
+could only be with him! but the time is passing so!' Then, as she saw
+the pained look on Michael's face, she said in a low voice: 'Don't be
+too sorry for me; it is hard--very hard--but we must only think of him;'
+and then she did not speak again until the hansom stopped.
+
+Mollie was on the watch, for the door opened before they had alighted;
+but as she flung her arms round Audrey with a tearful welcome, the
+latter gently disengaged herself.
+
+'Do not keep me, dear Mollie; let me go to him.'
+
+'Yes, you shall go to him, dear Miss Ross; he is a little better just
+now; at least, he does not suffer so much. I wish mamma could speak to
+him, but she only sits there sighing as though her heart would break,
+and it must be so sad for Cyril to hear it. That is the door; you can go
+in;' and Audrey needed no more.
+
+A tall, gray-haired man stood aside to let her pass, but it may be
+doubted whether she even saw him, any more than she noticed that rigid
+figure at the foot of the bed. Audrey saw nothing but that death-like
+face on the pillow, and the glad light in Cyril's eyes, as she went
+straight to him, and kneeling down beside him, kissed his lips.
+
+'My poor Cyril! My poor, dear Cyril!' she said in a voice that was
+heavenly in its sweetness to him.
+
+'No, not poor now,' he whispered, as he moved his head until it rested
+on her breast. 'My darling, it is worth even this to see you again. If
+you could only know what these five months have been to me!'
+
+He spoke in a voice so low and feeble that only she could hear him. Mrs.
+Blake did not move as Audrey entered; her eyes were fixed on her boy's
+face. They seemed the only living things about her. From time to time,
+even in his awful suffering, he had struggled to say a word to her, but
+she had scarcely answered him, though now and then a low moan issued
+from her lips.
+
+'I could not have borne it much longer,' he went on, as in her mute
+sympathy Audrey rested her face against his cold, damp forehead; 'the
+life was killing me. How was a man to live without hope? And I had no
+hope.'
+
+'I should always have loved you,' she said simply.
+
+'Yes, my own faithful one; but even your love, precious as it was, could
+not have consoled me for the unnatural loneliness that was my lot. The
+very knowledge that you were mine and that I could never claim you
+seemed to add a deep bitterness to my grief. Do not let us speak of that
+dreary time, my darling; it is gone now, and it is come to this: that I
+thank God that I lie here with only a few hours to live.'
+
+'Oh, Cyril! for your mother's sake, do not say this!'
+
+'She does not hear us,' he replied; 'she seems to take no notice of
+anything. Poor, dear mother! I am sorry for her!'
+
+'And not for me!' Audrey's unselfishness could not refrain from that low
+cry.
+
+'No, not for you,' he returned tenderly. 'It is better, far better, for
+you, my darling, that things are ending thus. Why should you have wasted
+your sweet life for me, Audrey? I could not have borne the sacrifice. In
+a little while I should have written to you, and begged you to give me
+up.'
+
+'There would have been no use in writing such a letter.'
+
+Then he smiled happily, as though even on his dying bed it gave him
+pleasure to hear that.
+
+'Cyril, you must not talk; Michael says it hurts you.'
+
+'No, not quite so much now; somehow the pain seems easier, and it is
+such a relief to say all this. Does it make you unhappy, darling?'
+
+'Not if it gives you comfort; you may say anything--anything--to me.'
+
+'I only wanted to tell you that it is all right. I am glad I did it. I
+have not done much for Him all my life,' dropping his voice reverently,
+and she knew what he meant. '"Inasmuch"--how does that go on, Audrey?'
+
+Then she softly repeated the words:
+
+'"Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these, My brethren, ye
+have done it unto _Me_."'
+
+'Well, He did more than that for us. What was a moment's pain compared
+with His? Audrey, do you think someone could say a prayer?'
+
+Then Audrey suggested that they should send for Michael, and he came at
+once.
+
+Cyril listened with his eyes closed; but his lips moved, and Audrey's
+hand was in his all the time. He seemed a little exhausted after this,
+and Dr. Abercrombie gave him some restorative.
+
+Michael did not leave the room for long after this. He came in from time
+to time to see if he were wanted. But there was very little for anyone
+to do. The flame of life was flickering to its close, and the practised
+eye of the physician knew that in another hour or two all would be over.
+
+'You can go in,' he said to Mollie; 'nothing makes any difference now.'
+
+Then Mollie crept to her brother's side.
+
+Cyril lay very quiet; but by and by he roused himself to send a message
+to Kester. And then he spoke of his father.
+
+'Will you give him my love?' he said. 'I wanted to see more of him. I
+think if I had only known him better I could have loved him.'
+
+'I will tell him this, dear Cyril.'
+
+'Thank you.'
+
+And then he closed his eyes again. And as Audrey bent over him, it
+seemed to her as though his face were almost perfect in that stillness.
+Presently he asked his mother to come closer, and she at once obeyed
+him.
+
+'Mother,' he said pleadingly, 'you will try to give me up?'
+
+But she made a gesture of dissent.
+
+'I cannot; I cannot, Cyril! I do not believe I can live without you.'
+
+'You have Mollie and Kester,' he panted, for her suppressed agitation
+evidently disturbed him. 'Mother, I know what we have been to each
+other.'
+
+Then she fell on her knees with a bitter cry.
+
+'Cyril, it is all my fault that you are lying there. Your mother has
+killed you. It would not have happened but for me. My boy! my boy! I
+cannot, I will not live, without you!'
+
+'Mother.'
+
+But Michael saw he could bear no more, and at a sign from the doctor he
+raised the unhappy woman and led her from the room.
+
+'It is too much for them both,' he said to Biddy; 'neither of them can
+bear it.'
+
+And then he saw the old woman take her mistress in her arms and cry over
+her like a child.
+
+'Biddy, I shall die too. You will bury me in my boy's grave--my boy and
+me together.'
+
+But Michael heard no more. He went back to the room just as Cyril was
+asking for him.
+
+'Burnett, will you say good-bye?' he gasped. 'I think it will not be
+long now, and I have said good-bye to Mollie. Oh! this pain, doctor--it
+has come back again. Can you do anything for me?'
+
+But Dr. Abercrombie shook his head sorrowfully.
+
+'Never mind, then; it must be borne. Burnett, God bless you for all you
+have done! You will be good to her, I know'--with a glance at his
+betrothed.
+
+'I will,' returned Michael Burnett.
+
+And then the two men grasped hands.
+
+Cyril hardly spoke after this--his pain was too intense. But once Audrey
+saw his eyes rest on her ring. 'It is still there,' she heard him
+murmur. And another time he made signs that she should lay his head on
+her shoulder.
+
+'I want to die so,' he whispered. And a little later he asked her to
+kiss him again.
+
+He lay so quiet now that they thought he was going, and Michael knelt
+down by the bed and offered up the commendatory prayer. But once more
+the dark eyes opened: there was a strange, unearthly light in them.
+
+'Inasmuch,' he said; 'Inasmuch----'
+
+His head fell back a little heavily, and the soul of Cyril Blake was
+with its God.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'He does not suffer now,' were Audrey's first words, as she laid him
+gently down and gave her last solemn kiss. When Michael put his arm
+round her and led her gently away, she offered no resistance.
+
+'I must leave you for a little while, dear,' he said, as he stood beside
+her a moment; 'but I will send Mollie to you.'
+
+Then she begged that she might be left alone.
+
+'Her mother will want her; and I would rather, much rather, be alone.'
+
+Then, when Michael had gone, she laid her head down on Cyril's
+writing-table, and the tears had their way. Until now she had not
+thought of herself; but now it seemed to her as though the world had
+grown suddenly cold and dark. He had loved her--oh, how well he had
+loved her!--and now the Divine will had taken him from her!
+
+But Audrey wept less for herself than for that bright young life cut off
+so mysteriously in its early bloom, before its youthful promise had come
+to maturity. But as her tears flowed, certain words she had often read
+recurred to her mind, and comforted her:
+
+'For honourable age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor
+that is measured by number of years.
+
+'But wisdom is the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'For his soul pleased the Lord: therefore hasted He to take him away
+from the wicked.'
+
+Certainly there was no bitterness in Audrey's grief when, a few hours
+later, she stood with Michael beside that still form. How beautiful her
+Cyril looked! she thought; and even Michael marvelled as he gazed at
+him. He lay there like a young knight who had fallen in his maiden
+fight, and who in death was still a conqueror. The living man who stood
+there could almost have envied him, he was so worn and jaded with the
+battle of life.
+
+'How peacefully he sleeps!' he said, in a moved voice; 'he looks as
+though he were dreaming happily, Audrey. Surely it will comfort his
+mother to see him like this!'
+
+'She will not see him yet; Biddy says she is too ill. We must give her
+time to recover herself--the blow has been so awfully sudden. Yes, he
+looks happy; my darling sleeps well. Did you hear what he said,
+Michael?--that he was glad that he lay there; that it was all as it
+should be? If ever a man yielded his life willingly, Cyril did!'
+
+'His life was so hard, you see.'
+
+'Yes; but he would have given it all the same if his happiness had been
+perfect. He would not have stood by and seen even a beggar perish, he
+was so generous. You would have done it yourself, Michael.'
+
+'I do not know,' he returned with a shudder; 'I would not answer for
+myself: it was such an awful death!'
+
+'But I can answer for you,' she replied calmly: 'you would have done it
+if he had not been beforehand.'
+
+And then she moved away from him, and began to arrange the few flowers
+that the people of the house had sent up to her.
+
+Michael waited until she had finished. She was exhausted and weary, he
+knew, and he was anxious to take her to South Audley Street, where her
+mother would be awaiting them. Michael had telegraphed to her earlier in
+the day, and the answer had come that she was already on her way.
+
+Audrey made an attempt to see Mrs. Blake before she left, but Biddy
+would not admit her.
+
+'It will drive my mistress crazy to see anyone,' she said. 'She has
+quieted down a bit, and the doctor has given me some stuff to make her
+sleep; and his orders were that I was to keep her as still as possible.'
+And after this Audrey dared not persist.
+
+But it grieved her to leave poor Mollie in that desolate house, the girl
+seemed so utterly alone; but Michael said he had spoken to the woman of
+the house, and that she had promised to look after her.
+
+'We ought not to take her with us, dear Audrey,' he said gently, but
+firmly; 'it is her duty to stay with her mother.' And Audrey acquiesced
+a little reluctantly.
+
+Mrs. Ross cried abundantly as she took Audrey in her arms; her motherly
+soul was filled with pity for her girl. But Audrey had no more tears to
+shed.
+
+'Mother,' she said pleadingly, when, after the late evening meal,
+Michael had retired and left them alone together--'mother, I must wear
+mourning for Cyril. I hope father will not mind.'
+
+'You shall do as you like, my love,' returned her mother sadly. 'Your
+father will not object to anything you wish to do. You know we all loved
+dear Cyril.'
+
+'Yes, mother; and you were always so good to him. Towards the last he
+mentioned you and father: "Give my love to them both." Michael heard him
+say it.'
+
+'Geraldine is as unhappy as possible. She drove with me to the station.
+She begged me over and over again to say how grieved she was for you.'
+
+'Poor dear Gage is always so kind!' replied Audrey calmly. 'Mother dear,
+should you mind my going to bed now? My head aches so, and I am so
+tired!'
+
+Then Mrs. Ross attended her daughter to her room, and did not leave her
+until her weary head was on the pillow.
+
+'I should like to stay,' she said, looking at her child with yearning
+eyes; 'but I suppose you would rather be alone.'
+
+'Yes, mother dear;' and then she drew her mother's face down to hers and
+kissed it tenderly. 'Dearest, you are so good to me, and so is Michael.'
+
+'Who could help being good to you, Audrey?'
+
+'Yes; but you must not be too kind to me. One must not let one's
+unhappiness spoil other people's lives. I want to be as brave as he was.
+Will you draw up the blind, mother dear? It is such a beautiful
+moonlight night.' And, as Mrs. Ross did as she was asked, Audrey raised
+herself upon her elbow. 'Oh, how calm and lovely it looks! Even the
+housetops are transfigured and glorified. Oh, mother, it is all as it
+should be! Cyril said so; and he is safe in his Father's house--in his
+Father's and mine!' she half whispered to herself, as she sank back on
+the pillow again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+A STRANGE EXPIATION
+
+     'When some beloved voice that was to you
+     Both sound and sweetness faileth suddenly,
+     And silence against which you dare not cry
+     Aches round you like a strong disease and new,
+     What hope? what help?...
+                      ...Nay, none of these.
+     Speak, Thou availing Christ! and fill this pause.'
+
+                                    MRS. BROWNING.
+
+
+Mrs. Ross soon discovered that Audrey wished to remain in town until the
+funeral was over, and she at once wrote off to her husband for the
+required permission.
+
+Dr. Ross made no objection; he meant to be present himself at the
+funeral, and as he had some important business that would detain him
+another day or so in London, he suggested that they should accompany him
+back to Woodcote.
+
+Audrey seemed satisfied when she had read her father's letter. He had
+sent her a message that touched her greatly.
+
+'I hope our child will not grieve over-much,' he wrote. 'Tell her that
+her father sympathises with her most fully. By and by she will read the
+meaning of this painful lesson. As for poor Cyril, one can only long to
+change places with him. His was a short and fiery trial, but at least he
+was spared the burden and heat of the day. When one thinks of his
+blameless youth, and the manly endurance with which he met and faced his
+trouble, one can only be thankful that he has been taken out of a life
+that would have been only one long struggle and disappointment, and has
+entered so early into his rest.'
+
+'Father is right,' murmured Audrey, as she read this. 'Every morning I
+wake I thank God that he has ceased to suffer.'
+
+Audrey went every day to see Mollie, and to spend a few minutes by
+Cyril's coffin. She went with Michael to Highgate to choose his last
+resting-place, and no other hands but hers arranged the flowers that
+decked the chamber of death. Mrs. Blake remained in her own room, and
+refused to see anyone. Biddy's account of her mistress was very
+unsatisfactory.
+
+'She does not sleep unless I give her the doctor's soothing stuff,' she
+confessed one day, when Audrey questioned her very closely, 'and
+sometimes I cannot coax her to take it. "I don't want to sleep, Biddy,"
+that is all her cry. "If I sleep I must wake, and the waking is too
+terrible." Unless Blessed Mary and the saints help my mistress,'
+continued Biddy, wiping the tears from her withered cheeks, 'I think she
+will go out of her mind. She spends half the night in that room. Early
+this morning I missed her, and found her lying in a dead faint beside
+the coffin. She does not eat, and I never see her shed a tear. She sits
+rocking herself and moaning as though she were in pain, and then she
+starts up and walks the room till it turns one giddy to see her. I dare
+not leave her a moment. If she would only see a doctor! but, poor soul,
+she will do nothing now to please her old Biddy.'
+
+'I must see her,' exclaimed Audrey, horrified at this description of
+wild, unchastened grief. 'Biddy, will you take this note to her?' and
+Biddy, nothing loath, carried off the slip of paper.
+
+Audrey had only pencilled a few words:
+
+'My poor friend, let me come to you; ours is the same sorrow. For
+Cyril's sake, do not refuse me.'
+
+But Biddy came back the next moment shaking her head very sorrowfully.
+
+'I can do nought with her,' she said hastily. 'She sends her love, Miss
+Ross, but she will see no one--no one. I have done the best I can for
+you, but I dare not anger her,' finished the old woman, moving sadly
+away. 'Why, she has not seen Master Kester, though he came to her door
+last night! We must leave her alone until she comes round to her right
+mind.'
+
+'Do you think she will be at the funeral?' Michael asked more than once;
+but no one was able to answer this question.
+
+But when the day came she was there, closely veiled, so that no one
+could see her face, and as she walked to the grave, between Kester and
+Mollie, her step seemed as firm as ever. Michael had written to Matthew
+O'Brien the particulars of his son's death, and had told him that a
+place would be reserved for him among the mourners; but to this there
+was no reply.
+
+Just as the service began in the chapel, however, a tall man with a gray
+moustache slipped into the seat behind Kester. When the sad procession
+filed out into the cemetery, Audrey and Michael drew back to let him
+pass, but he made signs for them to precede him. But at the end, as they
+all crowded round the open grave to take their last look at the
+flower-decked coffin, Mat O'Brien stood for a moment by his wife's side.
+Audrey said afterwards that she was sure Mrs. Blake saw him; she started
+slightly, but took no further notice. The tears were streaming down
+Mat's face, and Mollie, with girlish sympathy, had slipped her hand
+through his arm; but the mother stood in stony impassiveness beside
+them, until Kester whispered something to her and led her away. The rest
+of the mourners had dispersed, but Audrey stood there still, looking
+thoughtfully down into the grave. Dr. Ross and his wife had followed the
+others, but Michael had kept his place beside Audrey.
+
+'I think they are waiting for us, dear,' he said at last, as though to
+rouse her.
+
+Then she turned her face to him.
+
+'I like being here,' she replied simply; 'and yet it is not pain to
+leave him lying there. Michael, I feel like Christian. Do you remember
+how his burden rolled off into an open grave? Somehow, mine has rolled
+off, too.'
+
+'You mean that you are happy about him.'
+
+'Yes. It is so sweet to think that he will never suffer any more. Oh,
+Michael, it has been such a burden! I never seemed to have a moment's
+peace or comfort. Every night I used to think, "How has he passed
+to-day? Has it been very bad with him?" And sometimes the thought of all
+he was bearing seemed to weigh me to the earth.'
+
+'And you never spoke of this to anyone--you bore all this by yourself?'
+
+'It was no use to speak. No one could help me. It was his pain, not
+mine. Now it will be different. He is safe and happy, and as for me, I
+must try to live now for other people.'
+
+And then, with a smile that touched him to the heart, she stepped back
+from the grave and told him that she was ready.
+
+Somehow, Michael felt comforted by those few words. His intuition and
+knowledge of Audrey's character gave him hope that after a time she
+would recover her old elasticity. 'Until now,' he said to himself, 'she
+has so fully identified herself with him, that she has simply had no
+life of her own. Her sympathetic nature has reflected only his thoughts
+and feelings. I doubt whether she has ever questioned herself as to her
+love for him; she has taken everything for granted. And now she has lost
+him, the thought of his happiness seems to swallow up all thought of her
+own grief. Such unselfishness will bring its own healing.' And in this
+way Michael comforted himself about her.
+
+That evening Audrey received a message that surprised her greatly.
+Kester brought it. His mother would see her the next day; someone had
+told her that Audrey was going back to Woodcote, and she had at once
+expressed a wish that she should not leave without bidding her good-bye.
+
+'Tell her that I can speak now, and that I have much to say to her.' And
+the strangeness of this message filled Audrey with perplexity.
+
+Michael took her to Kensington the next day. He had to fetch Kester; the
+boy was going back to Brighton: there was no good in his lingering in
+London. His mother took no pleasure in his society; his overtures to his
+father had made a breach between them, and she had treated him with
+silent displeasure.
+
+But he told Michael, as they drove to the station, that she had been
+kinder in her manner to him that morning than she had been for months.
+
+'She kissed me more than once, and held my hand as though she did not
+like bidding me good bye. She looks awfully ill,' continued the boy,
+with a choke in his voice; 'and when I asked her to be good to Mollie,
+she said quite gently that she had been a bad mother to us both; that
+she had not considered us enough, and that God was punishing her for it.
+I begged her not to say it, but she repeated it again. "You and Mollie
+will be better without me," she went on. Oh, Captain Burnett! do you
+think she will die? I never saw anyone look quite so bad,' persisted
+Kester sadly.
+
+Biddy took Audrey up at once to her mistress's room.
+
+'You will find her better,' she said shortly; 'the dumb spirit is cast
+out of her. That is the blessed saints' doing. I knew my mistress would
+come to her senses--Heaven be praised for it!'
+
+The room was somewhat dark, and it was not until Audrey was quite close
+to Mrs. Blake that she noticed the change in her that had so shocked
+Kester.
+
+The blackness of the plain stuff gown, unrelieved by any whiteness, may
+have made the contrast of her pale face more striking; but Audrey
+noticed that her dark hair was now streaked with gray. She had drawn it
+back from her face and coiled it tightly behind, as though her own
+appearance had ceased to interest her, and the sunken eyes and a certain
+sharp look about the cheekbones made her seem at least ten years older.
+
+With a pity amounting to tenderness, Audrey would have put her arms
+round her; but Mrs. Blake drew back, and only suffered her to kiss her
+cheek.
+
+'Dear Mrs. Blake----'
+
+But she interrupted her.
+
+'Do not call me that again,' she said hastily. 'There has been enough of
+deception and lies; my name is Olive O'Brien. As long as I remain in the
+world I wish to be called by that name.'
+
+Then Audrey gazed at her in speechless consternation. What could this
+strange speech portend?
+
+'Will you sit down?' she continued, at the same time seating herself in
+a high-backed chair that stood beside her bed.
+
+A crucifix lay on a little table beside her, with a framed photograph of
+Cyril that she always carried about with her. From time to time she
+looked at them as she spoke.
+
+'Biddy told me that you were going back to Rutherford, and I could not
+let you go without bidding you good-bye.'
+
+'It would have made me very unhappy if you had not allowed me to see
+you.'
+
+'I cannot believe that; but of course you mean it for the truth: that is
+why my boy loved you, because you are so absolutely true.' Her voice
+sank into a whisper, and a gloomy light came into her eyes. 'That is why
+his mother disappointed him, why he lost all trust in her, because
+falsehood was easier to her than truth.'
+
+'But not now, dear Mrs. Blake; nay, I must call you by the old name. And
+what does it matter between us two if you have sinned? If your
+wrong-doing seems a heavy burden, you can at least repent.'
+
+'I have repented,' she said, in a voice so strange and thrilling that
+Audrey felt inwardly troubled. 'In the hours of darkness by my boy's
+coffin I have humbled myself before my Maker, I have craved to expiate
+my sin. Audrey, listen to me,' she continued; 'I have sent for you
+because you loved my Cyril, because for a few months you made him happy.
+He was my idol, and that is why he has been taken from me--because I
+forgot God and truth, and sinned for his sake.'
+
+'Yes; but you are sorry now.'
+
+'What does such sorrow avail, except for my own purging? In a little
+while the world--this cruel, hard, outer world--will know me no more. I
+am going back to Ireland with Mollie and Biddy, and when I have made my
+peace with the Church I shall enter a convent.'
+
+'Good heavens! what can you mean?'
+
+'I have always been at heart a Catholic,' she returned in a mechanical
+tone; 'but while my boy lived I was content that his Church should be
+mine. All my life I have had a leaning to the older faith; now in my
+desolation I mean to shelter in the bosom of our Holy Mother the Church.
+She receives all penitents; she will not refuse me.'
+
+'But your children--Mollie: would you forsake Mollie?' pleaded Audrey,
+with tears in her eyes. 'Would you neglect your sacred responsibilities
+for duties no one would demand of a mother?'
+
+'Am I fit to discharge my responsibilities?' she returned in a cold,
+hard voice. 'Has anyone but Cyril ever kept me straight? Do you think
+Mollie and I could go on living the same old life without him? Audrey,
+you do not know what you say; such an existence would rob me of my
+reason.'
+
+'But what will become of Mollie?' asked Audrey, concealing her alarm at
+this wild speech. 'You must not only think of yourself.'
+
+'Mollie will go with me,' she returned. 'I shall not forsake her. The
+convent that I propose to enter has a home attached to it, where they
+educate girls belonging to the upper classes. Mollie will have plenty of
+companions. The nuns are kind women, and they will not coerce her in any
+way, and there will be sufficient for her maintenance.'
+
+'But when she grows up--when her education is finished: what will become
+of her then?'
+
+But Mrs. Blake did not seem clear on this point. The convent had its
+boarders, she remarked; with the superior's permission, Mollie might
+still remain there, and lead a tolerably happy life.
+
+'There will be other young ladies; she will not be dull,' she went on.
+'The rule is a strict one--that is why I chose it--but I should be
+allowed to see her sometimes; perhaps she too may turn Catholic, and
+then all will be well.'
+
+But Audrey's honest nature revolted against this merciless arrangement.
+She saw clearly that Mrs. Blake's weak, excitable nature had been under
+some strong influence, though it was not until later that she heard that
+during the last few months she had secretly attended a Roman Catholic
+chapel near them. Doubtless Biddy, who was a stanch Romanist, had
+connived at this.
+
+And now she had planned this strange expiation for herself, and poor
+Mollie must be sacrificed. What would Cyril have thought of such an
+unnatural arrangement? For Cyril's sake, for Mollie's, Audrey felt she
+must combat this notion.
+
+'Mrs. Blake,' she said very earnestly, 'it is not for me to question
+your actions with regard to yourself. If you are at heart a Roman
+Catholic--if all these years you have been an unprofessed member of that
+Church--it may be as well for you to acknowledge it openly. I do not
+believe myself that a convent life is free from its trials and
+temptations. Human nature is the same everywhere, and even sanctified
+human nature is liable to error. Wiser people than myself would tell you
+that peace of mind would be more surely attained by remaining in the
+path of duty. Dear Mrs. Blake, forgive me if I pain you, but would'--she
+hesitated a moment--'would not Cyril have disapproved of his mother
+taking such a step?'
+
+'I think not,' was the response. 'My boy's eyes are purified now; he
+would judge differently. I shall devote the remainder of my life to
+praying for the repose of his soul, and in repentance for my miserable
+past; and it may be'--here she lifted her clasped hands, and a faint
+light came into her eyes--'that Heaven may release me from my misery
+before many years are over, and my purified soul may be allowed to find
+rest.'
+
+'God grant you may find it, poor, misguided woman!' was Audrey's secret
+prayer; but she merely said aloud:
+
+'We must live out our life as long as the Divine will ordains; but, Mrs.
+Blake, I must speak of Mollie. If you will sacrifice yourself, you have
+no right to sacrifice her. For Cyril's sake, let me have her!'
+
+'You, Audrey!'
+
+'Yes, I. Have we not been like sisters all these months? I think Cyril
+would love to know she was with me; he was so fond of Mollie. He liked
+to see us together. It will make me happier to have her; when Michael is
+away I have no companion.'
+
+'Do you really mean it?' asked Mrs. Blake, in an astonished voice. 'You
+are very good, Audrey, but you are not your own mistress. Dr. Ross
+would never consent to such an arrangement.'
+
+'I have my own money. No one would be put to any expense for Mollie,
+unless you wished to provide for her yourself.'
+
+'I should certainly wish that.'
+
+'Then in that case there will be no difficulty at all. I know my father
+too well to fear a refusal from him. I will go back to South Audley
+Street and speak to him and my mother, and to-morrow you shall know
+their answer; but you must promise me one thing before I go--that, if
+they consent, you will let me have Mollie.'
+
+'She will be happier with you than in the convent,' replied Mrs. Blake,
+in a musing tone. 'After all, it would have been a dull existence for
+her, poor child!' There was a touch of motherliness in her voice as she
+spoke. 'Yes, you shall have her. I think my boy would have wished it.'
+
+And Audrey's grateful kiss sealed the compact.
+
+'But there is something else I must say,' continued Mrs. Blake, when
+they had talked a little more about Mollie--at least, Audrey had talked.
+'I want you to give Mat a message from me.'
+
+'Mr. O'Brien!'
+
+'Yes, my husband. Have I not told you that I have humbled myself to the
+dust? Before I leave the world I would make my peace even with him. Will
+you give him my message?'
+
+'Assuredly I will.'
+
+'Tell him that I have repented at last, and that I would fain have his
+forgiveness--that I know now that I had no right to rob him of his
+children. If the time came over again--but no; how can I tell whether
+things would have been different? Mat would always have been Mat, and I
+could not alter my own nature. Oh, if I had only been good like you,
+Audrey!' she sighed bitterly.
+
+'You must not talk any more,' observed Audrey, alarmed by the look of
+utter exhaustion on the wan face. 'Shall I leave you now to rest a
+little?'
+
+'Rest?' Audrey never forgot the tone in which the unhappy woman uttered
+the word. 'How can one rest on such a pillow of thorns? No; the time is
+too short. I must be up and about my work. Will you bid me good-bye,
+now? After to-day we shall not meet again. You shall write to me about
+Mollie; but this interview has exhausted me, and I must husband my
+strength.'
+
+'If I could only comfort you!'
+
+The sad yearning in Audrey's voice seemed to touch Mrs. Blake, and as
+the girl clung to her she pressed her to her bosom.
+
+'God bless you for all your goodness to him and to me! Every day I live
+I shall pray for you.' Her voice broke; with a sudden impulse she kissed
+her again and again, then pushed her gently from her. 'Go, go!' she said
+faintly, 'and send Biddy to me.' And Audrey dared not linger.
+
+But she looked quite white and shaken when she rejoined Michael; she
+could scarcely speak to Mollie, and she seemed relieved when her cousin
+told her that his hansom was at the door. The soft autumnal breeze
+seemed to refresh her, and after a little while she was able to tell
+Michael all that had passed between her and Mrs. Blake. Michael took it
+very coolly; he seemed to have fully expected something of the kind.
+
+'Poor soul! she will always be true to herself,' he observed. 'It is
+singular how these unbalanced, pleasure-loving natures lean towards
+asceticism--how rapidly they pass from one extreme to another. Even her
+repentance is not free from selfishness. She would free herself from her
+maternal responsibilities, as she freed herself from her marriage vows,
+under the mistaken notion of expiating a sinful past; and she will
+labour under the delusion that such an ill-conceived sacrifice will be
+pleasing to the Almighty.'
+
+'Yes; it is a great mistake,' she returned.
+
+'A very great mistake. The longer I live, Audrey, the more I marvel at
+the way people deceive themselves. The name of religion cloaks hidden
+selfishness to an extent you could hardly credit; the majority are too
+much engrossed in trying to save their own souls to care what becomes of
+other people. One would think it was "Save yourself, and the devil take
+the hindmost!" when one sees so-called Christians scurrying along the
+narrow way, as they call it, without a thought to the brother or sister
+who has fallen beside them.'
+
+'It is very grievous,' returned Audrey sadly. 'What would my poor Cyril
+have said to such an expiation? Michael, this interview with his mother
+has tried me more than anything. I think the hardest thing in life is
+when we see those we love turn down a wrong path, and when no entreaty
+will induce them to retrace their steps.'
+
+'It is a sight one sees every day,' was Michael's reply; and then, as he
+saw how jaded and weary she was, he began to tell her about Kester, and
+after that they talked of Mollie. And when Audrey found that Michael
+approved of her plan, and was as anxious as she was herself that Mollie
+should accompany them to Woodcote, she began to discuss the subject with
+her old animation, and by the time the drive was over the harassed look
+had passed away from her face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+ON MICHAEL'S BENCH
+
+     'What can I give thee back, O liberal
+     And princely giver, who has brought the gold
+     And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,
+     And laid them out the outside of the wall,
+     For such as I to take or leave withal,
+     In unexpected largesse?'
+
+                                    MRS. BROWNING.
+
+
+Dr. Ross and his wife listened very kindly to their daughter's project.
+Indeed, if Audrey had expressed a wish to establish a small colony of
+street Arabs at the end of the Woodcote garden, Mrs. Ross would have
+offered no objection to the scheme. Audrey could have ruled her mother
+as well as ever Geraldine had ruled her; but she was too generous to
+exert her influence. Her mother could have refused her nothing; from
+morning to night her one thought was how she might console her child.
+
+'Mollie will be such a companion for Audrey, John!' she suggested, when
+for one moment her husband had hesitated.
+
+'I was thinking about Matthew O'Brien,' he replied. 'Brail is rather too
+near, and people will talk; it will leak out in time that O'Brien is
+Mollie's father.'
+
+'Will that matter?' interposed Michael; 'talk will not hurt anyone. I
+think I can answer for O'Brien: he is the last man to lay claim to his
+own child. His brother tells me that he is perfectly content if he sees
+her from time to time. Kester often writes to him, and he is never tired
+of reading his letters. Both Mollie and Kester have grown quite fond of
+him.'
+
+'I think it should be kept quiet, for Mollie's sake,' returned Dr. Ross.
+'In my judgment, Matthew O'Brien is a very unfit person to take care of
+a girl approaching womanhood. His brother is old, and he may outlive
+him. I do not wish to be hard on him, but he seems to me a very
+irresponsible sort of person. When Mollie is of age she will, of course,
+judge for herself; but until then her friends will be wise not to give
+her up to her father's guardianship.'
+
+'He will never claim her,' replied Michael dryly. 'I will quote your own
+words: an irresponsible person is only too glad to evade responsibility.
+Mollie may live at Woodcote quite safely, and her visits to Brail will
+be taken as a matter of course. Of all people I know, the O'Briens are
+the least likely to chatter about their private concerns. Matthew
+O'Brien will be too thankful that his daughter should enjoy such
+privileges to wish to rob her of them.'
+
+'Father, it will make me so happy to have her!' whispered Audrey in her
+father's ear.
+
+Then the Doctor's eyes glistened with tenderness.
+
+'It shall be as you wish, my dear,' he said very gently: 'Mollie shall
+come. Your mother is very fond of her, and so am I. You will have
+another daughter, Emmie,' he continued, looking at his wife with a kind
+smile. And so the matter was settled.
+
+Poor Mollie was horrified when she heard what she had escaped. The idea
+of the convent was terrible to her.
+
+'Oh, dear Miss Ross,' she exclaimed, 'how can mamma do anything so
+dreadful? She will be miserable--quite miserable. Of course she would
+not like living with only Biddy and me--she would have fretted herself
+ill. But to be a nun and say prayers all day long! Poor, poor mamma!'
+And Mollie's eyes grew round with misery.
+
+'Dear Mollie, your mother thinks she knows best, and no one can control
+her. Perhaps, if she does not like it--if the life be too hard--she will
+come out at the end of her novitiate.'
+
+And this view of the case seemed to comfort Mollie a little.
+
+'And I am really to live at Woodcote--at that dear, beautiful place?'
+she continued. 'Oh, Miss Ross, it seems too good to be true!'
+
+'Yes; you are to be my little sister,' returned Audrey tranquilly. 'But,
+Mollie, I will not be called Miss Ross any longer. If you live with me,
+you must call me Audrey.'
+
+And Mollie promised that she would.
+
+Mollie said very little about her parting interview with her mother; but
+she cried bitterly for hours afterwards. 'Poor, poor mamma! Oh, what
+would Cyril say!' she exclaimed over and over again. And it was a long
+time before anyone could comfort her.
+
+Michael went down with them to Woodcote, and remained with them for the
+next month or two. Cyril's sudden death had occurred the first week in
+October, and the trees in the Woodcote gardens were glorious in their
+autumnal livery of red and golden-brown, while every day careful hands
+swept up the fallen leaves from the shrubberies and paths. Michael
+resumed his old habits. When Audrey wanted him he was always ready to
+walk or drive with her. No one knew the effort it cost him to appear as
+usual, when every day his passion gained a stronger mastery over him.
+Dearly as he had loved her in her youthful brightness, he had never
+loved her as he did now, when he saw her in uncomplaining sadness
+fulfilling her daily duties and devoting herself to Mollie. Geraldine
+used to look at her with tears in her eyes. 'She is sweeter than ever. I
+never knew anyone so good,' she said to her husband; and Mr. Harcourt
+had assented to this very cordially. As for Mrs. Ross, before many weeks
+were over she had drawn down on her maternal head more than one reproof
+from her daughter.
+
+'Mother,' Audrey said to her one day, 'have you forgotten what I once
+told you--that you are not to be so kind to me? You are spoiling me
+dreadfully. You give me my way in everything; and when I say anything
+that I ought not to say, you do not contradict me. I am growing
+demoralised, and it is all your and Michael's fault if I get more
+selfish every day.'
+
+'You selfish, my darling?'
+
+'Yes, selfish and stupid, and as idle as possible; and yet you never
+scold me or ask me to do anything for you.'
+
+'You are always doing something, Audrey; you are busy from morning till
+night. Michael says you work far too hard.'
+
+'But I must work; it is my duty to work,' she returned, a little
+restlessly; 'and, mother, you must help, and not spoil me. When I see
+you and Gage looking at me with tears in your eyes, it troubles me to
+see them. I want you to be happy. I want everything to go on as usual,
+and I mean to be happy, too.'
+
+And then she went away and gave Mollie her music-lesson, and when it was
+over she went in search of Michael.
+
+Michael knew he was necessary to her--that in certain restless moods he
+was able to soothe her; so he stayed manfully at his post until after
+Christmas.
+
+But with the new year he resumed his Bohemian life, spending two or
+three weeks at South Audley Street, and then running down to Woodcote
+for a few days. He felt it was wiser to do so, and he could leave her
+more comfortably now. She was better in every way: she drooped less
+visibly, her smile became more frequent, and the constant society of
+Mollie and intercourse with her fresh girlish mind were evidently
+beneficial.
+
+She would do now without him, he told himself as he went back to his
+lodgings, and he need no longer put such a force on himself. 'Until I
+can speak, until the time has come for me to open my heart to her, it is
+better that we should be apart.'
+
+That Audrey held a different opinion was evident, and she could not
+always conceal her disappointment when Michael's brief visits became
+briefer and more infrequent.
+
+'It is all that troublesome money,' she said once, when one spring
+morning he stood waiting for the dog-cart to take him to the station.
+'Of course, Woodcote does not content you now. You want a house of your
+own, and to be your own master. Well, it is perfectly natural,' she
+added quickly.
+
+'I have always been my own master,' he returned quietly; 'and as for the
+house you are so fond of talking about, it seems still in the clouds as
+far as I am concerned. Neither have I once visited Wardour Street.'
+
+'No; you have been very slow about it,' she replied, smiling; 'you were
+never in a hurry to possess your good things, Michael. I have often
+envied you your patience.'
+
+And then the mare trotted round the corner.
+
+'There is an old saying, that "all comes round to him who waits." Do you
+think that is true, Audrey?'
+
+He did not wait for her answer, as he climbed up into the driving-seat
+and took the reins; then he lifted his hat to her with rather a sad
+smile.
+
+'Yes, I have waited a long time, and it will not come yet.' And then he
+touched the mare a little smartly, and the next moment she was trotting
+briskly towards the gate.
+
+'Why had he looked so sad?' she wondered, as she went back to Mollie. He
+had not seemed like himself all the week, and now he had gone. 'If he
+only knew how much I want him, I think he would not go away so often,'
+she said to herself as she sat down to correct Mollie's French exercise.
+
+It was in the early days of June that Michael paid one of these flying
+visits to Rutherford, and as he drove through the green lanes, with the
+sweet summer breeze just stirring the leaves, he suddenly remembered
+that Cyril had lain in his quiet grave just eight months. He hardly knew
+why the thought had occurred to him, for he had been pondering a far
+different subject. 'Eight months! I had no idea that it had been so
+long,' he said to himself; 'time passes more quickly as one grows older.
+If I live to the end of the year I shall be nine-and-thirty. No wonder I
+feel a sober middle-aged man!'
+
+These reflections were hardly exhilarating, and he was glad when
+Woodcote was in sight.
+
+'You need not drive in, Fenton,' he said to the groom; 'take the mare
+round to the stables, and I will walk up to the house.'
+
+The gardens of Woodcote looked lovelier than ever this afternoon, he
+thought, as he walked slowly up the terrace: the tender green of the
+foliage, the gay tints of lilacs and laburnums and pink and white horse
+chestnuts, made a gorgeous background. Here a guelder rose thrust its
+soft puffy balls almost in his face, while the white shimmering leaves
+of the maple contrasted superbly with the dark-veined leaves of the
+copper beech. Dr. Ross had always prided himself on his rare trees and
+shrubs, and, indeed, no other garden in Rutherford could compete with
+the grounds of Woodcote; the long lawn that stretched below the terrace
+was kept free from daisies, and was as smooth as velvet.
+
+Some lads were playing tennis there now, and a young lady in a gray
+dress was sitting under a clump of lilacs, watching them. For a moment
+Michael hesitated, thinking it was a stranger; but as she beckoned to
+him, a sudden gleam came into his eyes, and he hastily crossed the lawn.
+
+'I have been waiting for you; you are a little late, Michael,' she said,
+as he shook hands with her. 'Mollie has gone out with mother; I asked
+her to take my place.'
+
+But he stood looking at her, and there was a strangely pleased
+expression on his face.
+
+'I did not know you,' he said, in a low voice; 'I thought it was a
+strange young lady sitting on the bench. It was this, I suppose;' and he
+touched her gown as he spoke.
+
+Audrey coloured. The remark evidently pained her.
+
+'I left off my black gown yesterday,' she replied hurriedly. 'I found
+out that it troubled father, though he was too kind to tell me so. It
+was Gage who spoke to me; she said that it was a pity to wear it so
+long.'
+
+'I don't see that Gage had any right to speak to you. It was your
+affair, not hers.'
+
+There was a trace of sharpness in Michael's tone, and the light had
+faded out of his eyes. After all, there was no cause for him to rejoice;
+she had not left off her mourning of her own accord. What a fool he had
+been! Of course, she had only done it to please her father.
+
+'No; it was kind of her to speak; and, after all, what does it matter?
+Father seemed so relieved when I put on this, and I can remember Cyril
+without the help of a black gown. It is better to please other people
+than to please one's self, and after the first moment I did not mind.
+Those boys are so noisy,' she continued in her ordinary manner, as
+though she were not willing to discuss the subject more fully. 'Shall we
+go to "Michael's bench"? Booty is making for that direction, as usual,
+and the pond is so pretty this afternoon.'
+
+'As you like,' he returned, a little moodily.
+
+Strange to say, this little episode of the dress had upset his
+equanimity, and he could not at once regain his old calmness. Had ever
+any gown become her so well? he wondered, with the exaggeration natural
+to a lover. She had a spray of laburnum in her hand, and the sunshine
+seemed to thread her brown hair with gold. It seemed to him as though
+there was a softer look in her gray eyes, as though his return were very
+welcome to her.
+
+'Michael,' she said suddenly, as they stood watching Eiderdown and
+Snowflake as they came sailing proudly up the pond in all the majesty of
+unruffled feathers, and Booty, as usual, pattered to the water's edge to
+bark at them until he was hoarse, 'what is this that I hear about your
+going away? Father tells me that you have made all sorts of plans for
+yourself.'
+
+'My money is burning a hole in my purse, you see,' he returned, picking
+up a dry twig from the ground, a proceeding that seemed to drive Booty
+frantic with excitement. 'I am beginning to realise my responsibility as
+a man of property; and as, of course, my first duty is to look after
+number one----'
+
+But she would not allow him to finish.
+
+'Michael, will you come and sit down? How can we talk properly while you
+are picking up sticks for Booty?'
+
+Then he followed her to the bench, but, instead of seating himself, he
+leaned lazily against a baby-willow.
+
+'I am going abroad with Dick Abercrombie,' he said, as though he were
+mentioning an everyday occurrence. 'You know how often I have planned a
+tour in Switzerland and Italy, but I have never been able to carry it
+out; and now I can combine duty and pleasure.'
+
+'Where does the duty lie, Michael?'
+
+But she did not smile as she put the question, and it struck him that
+she looked a little dull.
+
+'Why, with Dick, of course,' he returned quickly. 'Don't you know, the
+poor fellow is terribly out of health; his father is very anxious about
+him. He has been over-working, and I fancy there is some sort of
+love-affair as well; at least, the Doctor hinted as much. Anyhow, he is
+to strike work for six months; and as he wanted a travelling companion,
+I offered my humble services.'
+
+'But you will not be away all that time?' she asked, with visible
+anxiety.
+
+'Six months is not so very long, is it?' he returned coolly; 'and I do
+not see how we shall work out our plans even in that time. We are to do
+Switzerland thoroughly and to spend at least a month in the Engadine;
+then there are the Swiss Tyrol and the Italian lakes, and afterwards
+Rome, Florence, Venice, and Naples. If Dick tires of it and throws it
+up, I can still keep on alone. I want to do the thing properly for once
+in my life, and I have even thought of Greece and the Holy Land the
+following spring.'
+
+But again she interrupted him, and this time he saw the pained look in
+her eyes.
+
+'You will leave us for all that time--you will let him come back alone,
+and go on by yourself? Oh, Michael! what shall I do without you? You are
+more necessary to me than ever now.'
+
+She so seldom thought of herself that this speech took him by surprise.
+There was a tone of reproach in her voice, as though she thought him
+unkind for leaving her. Michael was not his ordinary calm self that
+afternoon. For months he had dreaded to find himself alone with her; but
+now the very sweetness of that loving reproach seemed too much for him.
+
+'A man is not always master of himself,' Cyril had once said; and at
+that moment Michael felt that it was no longer possible for him to be
+silent. He could bear it no more.
+
+'I shall stay away,' he said in a strangely-suppressed voice, 'because
+it is only right for me to do so--because it is my duty to leave you.'
+
+'Your duty to leave me,' she faltered. 'Oh, Michael, why?'
+
+'Do you wish me to tell you?' he said, looking at her fully as he stood
+opposite to her; and there was a gleam in the keen blue eyes that made
+her suddenly avert her face. 'Is it possible that all these years you
+have not known what you have been to me--that you have not guessed my
+love?'
+
+Then for the first time in her life she shrank from him.
+
+'What do you mean?' she said helplessly. 'We have always loved each
+other; you have been like my own brother, Michael.'
+
+'Then I can be your brother no longer,' he returned passionately; 'from
+a child you have been far dearer to me. I never remember the time since
+I was a subaltern that I did not love you, and my love has grown every
+year.'
+
+'Do you mean that you cared for me as Cyril cared?'
+
+But even as she asked the question he saw that her face was suffused
+with a burning blush.
+
+'I do mean it! From a child you have been the one woman in the world to
+me--the only one I wished to make my wife.'
+
+Then she covered her face with her hands, and he could see that she was
+trembling from head to foot.
+
+'It is too soon,' he heard her say; 'it is terribly soon;' and he knew
+the shock of this discovery was very great.
+
+'It is not too soon,' he said, sitting down beside her and trying to
+draw away her hands. 'Audrey, my dearest, I cannot bear this. You must
+not shrink from me so. Do not misunderstand me; I am asking you for
+nothing. Surely you are not afraid of me--of Michael?'
+
+'I think I am afraid of you,' she whispered. 'Oh, Michael, if this be
+true! But I cannot--cannot believe it! Why have you never told me this
+before? Why have you let me----'
+
+And then she stopped, as though a sob impeded her utterance.
+
+'I was never in a position to tell you so,' he returned, with his old
+gentleness. 'For years I doubted whether I should ever be well enough to
+marry. Do you think I would have condemned my wife, even if I could have
+won her, to a life of nursing? I was far too proud to demand such a
+sacrifice of any woman. And then I was a poor man, Audrey.'
+
+'What did that matter?' she replied, with a touch of scorn in her voice;
+'Cyril was poor too.'
+
+'You must not think I blame him, if I say we were very different men. I
+was prouder than he, and I knew your generous nature too well to take
+advantage of it. When the money came it was too late: you were engaged
+to him. I had only to hide my pain, so that you should not be made
+unhappy by it. I thought I was a bad actor; but you never guessed my
+secret--you would not have guessed it now.'
+
+'How could I?' she returned simply; 'I was only thinking of Cyril.'
+
+'Yes, and you are thinking of him now; he is as much my rival now he is
+dead as when he was living. That is why I am going away, because I can
+bear it no longer.'
+
+'Must you go?'
+
+Audrey's voice sank so that he could hardly hear the faint words.
+Perhaps she herself did not know what they implied; she was too shaken
+and miserable. That Michael, her own dear Michael, should have suffered
+all these years, and that she had never known it! Cyril was in his
+grave--he no longer needed her--what did it matter if the idea of
+another man wooing her so soon gave her pain, if she could only comfort
+Michael? But happily for them both, Michael guessed at that secret
+thought, and as he caught the words the flush mounted to his brow.'
+
+'Yes, I must go,' he said firmly; 'it is my best, my only chance. In my
+absence you will think of me more kindly. The old Michael--who was your
+friend, your faithful, devoted friend--will unconsciously blend with the
+new Michael, who you know is your lover. There,' he continued in a
+pained voice, 'as I speak the word you shrink again from me; and yet I
+am asking you nothing. Dear, if you were to promise me this moment that
+you would be my wife, if you were to tell me that you would try to love
+me as I wish to be loved, I would not marry you! No--though you are
+dearer to me than anything in life--I would not marry you!'
+
+'Do you not wish me to try, then?' she asked, rather bewildered by this
+strange wooing.
+
+Was it because Cyril was young that she had never feared him as she
+feared Michael? There was a quiet power about him that, in spite of his
+gentleness, seemed to subdue her, and though he was very pale, there was
+a fire in his eyes that made her unwilling to look at him. Yes, it was
+indeed a new Michael--one she could hardly understand.
+
+'Certainly I do not wish it,' he replied quickly. 'Can love come by
+trying?' But she could not answer him this. 'Any such love would not
+content me,' he went on; 'I must have all your heart or none. Forgive me
+if I say one thing, Audrey. I believe that poor Blake had not all that
+you have to give. I have thought this more than once; his love for you
+was so great that yours could hardly equal it. Nay, dear, I did not
+mean to hurt you by saying this,' for she was weeping now. 'You were
+goodness itself to him.'
+
+'I loved him; I am sure I loved him,' she said a little piteously, for
+Michael's words seemed to touch a sore spot.
+
+How often since Cyril's death had she blamed herself for not loving him
+more! More than once his excessive tenderness had wearied her, and she
+would have been content with less. She had been in no hurry to shorten
+her engagement, and the thought of resigning her maidenly freedom had
+always been distasteful to her. Could it be possible that Michael was
+right, and that there was something defective in her love?
+
+'Yes, you loved him. Blake has often told me that you were an angel of
+goodness to him. He missed nothing, you may be sure of that; but,
+Audrey, I cannot help my nature. I should ask more than ever he did.'
+
+Then her head drooped, and he knew that no answer was possible.
+
+'So you know why I am going away.' And now he rose and again stood
+before her. 'Because under these circumstances it would no longer be
+possible for us to be together--at least, it would not be possible for
+me. I shall leave you to question your own heart. Let it speak truly.
+Perhaps--I do not say it will be so, but perhaps you may find that I am
+more to you than you think. If that time ever comes, will you send for
+me?'
+
+'Send for you?'
+
+'Yes; be true to your own noble self, your own honest nature, and be
+true to me. You need not say many words. Just "Michael, come," will be
+enough to bring me from the very ends of the earth.'
+
+'But you will come before that; you will not wait for any such words?'
+
+But though he gave no special answer to this, she saw by his face that
+he would wait.
+
+'But you will write, Michael? you will not leave me'--and then she
+hastily substituted 'us'--'in complete silence? You may be away six
+months--a whole year--it may even be longer.'
+
+'Yes, it may be longer,' he returned; and now it was he who was the
+calmer of the two. 'It is impossible for either of us to tell now how
+long my exile may last; but I will write--not often, and perhaps I may
+not even speak of this that has passed between us; but I shall write,
+and you will find no difficulty in answering my letters.'
+
+And when he had said this he looked at her very kindly and then without
+another word walked to the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+'LET YOUR HEART PLEAD FOR ME'
+
+     'We were apart; yet day by day
+     I bade my heart more constant be.
+     I bade it keep the world away,
+     And grow a home for only thee;
+     Nor fear'd but thy love likewise grew,
+     Like mine, each day, more tried, more true.'
+
+                                   MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Audrey never knew how she got through the rest of the day. During the
+remainder of Michael's visit she seemed in an uneasy dream. Never before
+in her life had she been oppressed by such painful self-consciousness;
+all freedom of speech was impossible to her; she spoke with reluctance,
+and felt as though every word were weighed in some inward balance.
+
+More than once her mother asked her if she were well; but, happily,
+Michael was not present to see how the blood rushed to her face as she
+framed an evasive answer. She could not have told her mother whether she
+were ill or well: she only knew some moral earthquake had shattered her
+old illusions, and that she was looking out at a changed world.
+
+But she was conscious through it all that Michael's watchfulness and
+care shielded her from observation, that he was for ever throwing
+himself into the breach when any unusual effort was required. Once when
+her sister and Mr. Harcourt were present, he challenged them to a game
+of whist, that Audrey might leave her place at the piano. Very likely he
+had heard the slight quaver in her voice that told him the song tried
+her.
+
+Audrey longed to thank him as she stole out into the summer dusk, and
+wandered down the paths between the tall sentinel lilies, that gleamed
+so ghostly white in the darkness. But with all his thought for her, he
+was never alone with her for a moment until the last day came, and he
+went to the morning-room to wish her good-bye. She was tending her
+ferns, but she took off her gardening-gloves at once as he came up to
+her.
+
+'You are going, Michael; but we shall see you again before you really
+start?' she said, with an attempt at cheerfulness. But he shook his
+head.
+
+'I think not. Abercrombie has just written to say that Dick wants to get
+away a week earlier. I shall not be down here again.'
+
+Something choking seemed to rise in Audrey's throat, and if her life had
+depended on it she could not have got out another word. But Michael saw
+the troubled look in her eyes; they seemed to ask him again that
+question, 'Must you go?'
+
+'Yes, dear; I must go,' he replied gently. 'It is better for us
+both--better for you, and far, far better for me.' And as she still
+looked at him without speaking, he drew her towards him and kissed her
+cheek. 'God be with you, my dearest!' he said very tenderly. 'Think of
+me as kindly as you can, and let your heart plead for me.'
+
+And the next moment he was gone.
+
+Audrey stood rooted to the spot; she felt as though some nightmare
+oppression were on her. She heard her father's voice calling to her.
+'Where is Audrey?' he said. 'She must bid Michael good-bye.' And then
+someone--Michael, perhaps--answered him.
+
+A great longing was on her to see him again; but as she hesitated the
+wheels of the dog-cart sounded on the gravel, and she knew that she was
+too late. With a sudden impulse she leant out of the window. Michael was
+looking back at the house; he saw her, and raised his hat. She had just
+time to wave her hand as Dr. Ross drove rapidly through the gate.
+
+When her mother came to find her she was still standing there; she
+looked very pale, and the pained, wistful look was still in her eyes.
+
+'Mother,' she said, 'Cyril has left me, and now Michael has gone, too;
+and the world seems a different place to me.'
+
+'Michael will come back, my darling,' replied Mrs. Ross, vaguely
+troubled by the look on the girl's face. 'Your father says he has long
+wanted a thorough change, and this trip will do him so much good.'
+
+'Yes, he will come back; but when and how? And he will not come back for
+a long time;' and then she broke down, and hid her face in her mother's
+shoulder. 'If I were only like you, mother! if my life lay behind me,
+and had not to be lived out day by day and year by year! for I seem so
+tired of everything.'
+
+Mrs. Ross could make nothing of her girl; but she gave her just what she
+required that moment, a little soothing and extra petting.
+
+'You have gone through so much, and you have borne it all so quietly,
+and now Nature is having her revenge; you will be better presently, my
+darling.'
+
+And she was right: Audrey's strong will and sense of duty soon overcame
+the hysterical emotion.
+
+'I think I am tired,' she acknowledged; and to her mother's relief she
+consented to lie still and do nothing. 'I will make up for this idle day
+to-morrow,' she said with a faint smile, as she closed her eyes. 'Now go
+downstairs, mother dear, and don't trouble about me any more, unless you
+want to make me ashamed of myself for having been such a baby.'
+
+'She is just worn out with keeping everything to herself, and trying to
+spare us pain,' Mrs. Ross said to her husband, as she recounted this
+little scene to him. 'I never knew Audrey hysterical before; I was
+obliged to give her some sal volatile. I think she is asleep now.'
+
+'I don't hold with sal volatile,' returned the Doctor a little grimly.
+'Sleep is a far safer remedy, Emmie. Leave her to herself; she will be
+all right in a day or two.'
+
+But Dr. Ross sighed as he got up and went to his study. Audrey little
+knew that her father was in the secret; that in his pain and perplexity
+Michael had at last taken his best friend into his confidence.
+
+'We must leave things to work round,' had been his parting words to
+Michael that morning. 'No one, not even her father, must coerce her. All
+these years you have been like a son to me, Mike; and if my child could
+bring herself to love you as you deserve to be loved, no one would be
+better pleased than I should be.'
+
+'And you will tell no one--not even Cousin Emmeline?'
+
+'Why, I should not dare tell her,' returned the Doctor with rather a
+dejected smile, for he hated to keep things from his wife. 'Geraldine
+would get hold of it, and then it would come round to Harcourt. No, I
+will keep my own counsel, Mike. And now good-bye, and good luck to you!'
+
+'It is the Burnett motto,' replied Michael, with a touch of solemnity in
+his voice--'"Good luck God send." Take care of her, Cousin John.'
+
+And then the two men grasped hands and parted.
+
+'If I had to search the whole world over for a husband for her, I'd
+choose Mike,' was Dr. Ross's thought as he drove himself back again to
+Woodcote.
+
+Audrey kept her promise and made up for her one idle day. 'Work was good
+for everyone,' she said, 'and it was especially good for her.' So the
+following morning she resumed lessons with Mollie. She had complained a
+few weeks before that her German was becoming rusty, and by her father's
+advice she and Mollie were taking lessons together of Herr Freiligrath.
+The master she had selected was a very strict one, and his lessons
+entailed a great deal of preparation. No discipline could have been more
+wholesome. Audrey forgot her perplexities while she translated
+Wallenstein and followed the unhappy fortunes of Max and Theckla.
+
+But she did not at once regain her cheerfulness, and the daily round of
+duty was not performed without a great deal of effort and inward
+prompting; if no task were left unfulfilled, if she were always ready to
+give her mother or Geraldine the companionship they needed, and if her
+father never missed one of her usual ministrations, it was because she
+would listen to no plea of self-indulgence.
+
+'You are unhappy, and I fear you must be unhappy and not at ease for a
+long time,' she would say to herself in the intervals of her work; 'but
+idleness will not help you.' And to give her her due, she was never
+busier than during the summer that followed Michael's leave-taking. She
+had no idea that Michael knew all she was doing, and that her father
+often wrote to him. Michael had kept his word, and his letters to Audrey
+were very few and far between, and there was not a word in them that her
+mother or Geraldine could not have read if she had chosen to show them;
+but Michael's letters had always been sacred to her. Still it was
+impossible to answer them with her old freedom. The happy, sisterly
+intercourse was now a thing of the past. She could no longer pour out to
+her friend all her innocent girlish thoughts; a barrier--a strange,
+unnatural barrier--had been built up between them, and Audrey's letters,
+with all her painstaking effort, gave very little pleasure to Michael.
+
+'Poor child! she is still afraid of me,' he thought, as he folded up the
+thin paper. And he could not always suppress a sigh as he missed the old
+playfulness and open-hearted affection that used to breathe in every
+carelessly-worded sentence. But he knew that she could not help
+herself; that it was impossible for her now to tell him how she missed
+him and how heavily the days passed without him; and how could he know
+it, if she thought less of Cyril and more of him every day?
+
+Michael could not guess at all that inward self-questioning that seemed
+for ever making dumb utterance in her breast. Now and then, when no one
+needed her, she would wander down to 'Michael's bench' in the dusk or
+moonlight, and go over that strange conversation again.
+
+'Let your own heart plead for me,' had been his parting words; and,
+indeed, it seemed as though some subtle influence were for ever bringing
+his words to her memory. Why had he left her? Could he not have trusted
+her to do even this for him? She had loved Cyril, but she had not wished
+to marry him; she had wished to marry no man. It was the instinct of her
+nature to make others happy, and not to think of herself; and if Michael
+had wanted her----But the next moment a sort of despair seized her.
+
+He was not like Cyril. What she had to give would not content him in the
+least.
+
+'I must have all your heart or none,' he had said to her; and his eyes
+seemed to dominate her as he spoke. 'I should ask more than he did.' And
+she had not dared to answer him.
+
+No; she could not deceive him. She knew that no kindness on her part
+would ever wear in his eyes the semblance of the love he wanted. What
+could she do for him or for herself?
+
+'Can love come by trying?' he had asked; and she could recall vividly
+the bitterness of his tone as he said this.
+
+But the speech over which she pondered most, sometimes for an hour
+together, was a very different one.
+
+'I shall leave you,' he had told her, and there had been a strange light
+in his eyes as he spoke--'I shall leave you to question your own heart.
+Let it speak truly. Perhaps--I do not say it will be so, but perhaps you
+may find that I am more to you than you think. If that time ever comes,
+will you send for me?'
+
+'What did he mean by saying this?' she would ask herself. 'Why did his
+look seem to reproach me and pierce me to the heart? How could I know,
+unless he told me? It is not my fault that I have been so blind. I
+cannot send for him--I cannot! It is too soon, and----'
+
+But Audrey did not finish her sentence. Even under the dark trees the
+hot flush was scorching her face.
+
+'Oh, I am so tired of it all!' she would say, springing to her feet with
+a sudden, quick impatience.
+
+The old tranquil life--the happy, careless life--was gone for ever.
+Cyril--her poor dear Cyril--was in his grave; and now there was this new
+lover, with his proud, gentle wooing: not her old Michael who had so
+satisfied her, but a new, powerful Michael, who half drew and half
+repelled her, and for whom she had no fitting answer.
+
+Audrey was glad when August came and she could find some relief in
+change of scene. Dr. Ross had taken a large roomy cottage at Keswick for
+the summer holidays, and the Harcourts and Kester were to join them.
+Audrey was thankful that her father had not selected Scotland, as his
+son-in-law had suggested; and she made up her mind, in her sensible way,
+that, as far as lay in her power, she would enjoy herself as much as
+possible; and after a time her efforts were not unsuccessful.
+
+Derwent-water was in unusual beauty that year, and a spell of warm,
+sunny weather enabled them to enjoy their boating expeditions on the
+lake. Audrey liked to paddle herself and Mollie to one of the islands,
+and sit there reading and working, while Kester and Percival fished and
+Geraldine roamed by the lake-side with her bonnie boy, sitting like a
+young prince in his little wheeled carriage, beside her. There was a
+long-tailed, shaggy pony belonging to the cottage--a sturdy,
+sure-footed, good-tempered animal, and Dr. Ross would often drive his
+wife through some of the lovely dales. Mrs. Ross never thoroughly
+enjoyed herself in a boat--she had a dislike to find herself surrounded
+by the deep, clear water; and she much preferred the chaise and Jemmy.
+
+'You were always a goose, Emmie, and I suppose that is why I married
+you,' Dr. Ross remarked, as he tickled up Jemmy's broad back with the
+whip.
+
+Nevertheless, the Doctor loved these expeditions quite as much as his
+wife did.
+
+'What a handsome Darby and Joan they look, Jerry!' Mr. Harcourt once
+said, as he walked beside her, with Leonard proudly seated on his
+shoulder. 'I doubt if we shall make such a good-looking couple, my love,
+in thirty years' time.'
+
+But Mr. Harcourt was smiling in a sly fashion, as he took a sidelong
+glance at his graceful wife. Geraldine was looking lovelier than ever in
+the broad-brimmed hat that her husband had chosen for her.
+
+A sad event happened soon after their return to Woodcote. Matthew
+O'Brien died on the anniversary of his son's death. His end had been
+very sudden; no one had suspected that for months an insidious disease
+had been making stealthy progress. He had seemed much as usual, and had
+made no complaint, only Mrs. Baxter had remarked to her father that
+Uncle Mat seemed quieter-like and more peaceable. 'He has given up those
+wearisome prowls of his, and takes more kindly to the chimney-corner,'
+as she said.
+
+But one evening Mat put his pipe down silently before it was half
+smoked, and went off to bed, and the next day he complained of pain and
+drowsiness; and Prissy cooked some of her messes and soothing possets,
+and made much of him as he lay on his pillow looking idly out on the
+October sunshine. And the next day, as the pain and drowsiness did not
+diminish, she very wisely suggested that a doctor should be sent for;
+and as Dr. Foster stood beside him, asking him questions rather gravely,
+a sudden thought came into Mat's mind, and he looked into the doctor's
+eyes a little solemnly.
+
+'You need not be afraid to tell me, doctor,' he said sadly; 'my life has
+not been much good to me, and I shall not be sorry to part with it.' But
+the doctor's answer was kindly evasive.
+
+But two or three nights afterwards, as Thomas O'Brien was sitting beside
+the bed for an hour to relieve Prissy, Mat stretched out his lean arm
+and grasped his brother's coat-sleeve.
+
+'It is coming, Tom,' he said; 'I shall soon be with my boy--that is, if
+God's mercy will grant me admittance to that good place. Give my love to
+Mollie and the little chap, and, Tom, old fellow, God bless you!'
+
+He murmured something drowsily, and then again more clearly:
+
+'Tell Olive that she was not to blame so much, after all. I have been
+too hard on her, poor girl! but she could not help her nature. Isn't
+there something about "To whoever little is forgiven, the same loveth
+little"? I seem to remember Susie reading it.'
+
+And Thomas O'Brien, bending over the gray face, repeated the words
+slowly:
+
+'"Wherefore I say unto you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for
+she loveth much."'
+
+But Mat interrupted him:
+
+'He has forgiven me plenty, lad, and you too, and I love Him for it.'
+
+And those were Matthew O'Brien's last words.
+
+Mat O'Brien did not go unwept to his grave, in spite of his
+unsatisfactory life. His brother mourned for him long and sincerely, and
+in their way Kester and Mollie grieved, too. At Audrey's wish, Mollie
+wrote the full particulars of her father's death to the convent. Sister
+Monica's answer was, in Audrey's opinion, singularly suggestive of the
+ci-devant Mrs. Blake. It was a strange medley of mysticism and motherly
+yearnings, but at the end was a touch of real honest feeling.
+
+     'Tell Audrey that when I pray for my boy I pray for her, too; and,
+     Mollie, do not think that your mother forgets you, for perhaps she
+     may do you better service now than ever she did when we were
+     together. Think of me sometimes, my child. I am glad that your
+     father spoke of me so kindly. I can pray for him now, as I never
+     could when he was living. Poor man! It was an ill world to him, but
+     he is out of it now.
+
+                           Your loving and repentant mother,
+
+                                      'SISTER MONICA MARY.'
+
+Audrey went over to Brail constantly during the autumn and winter months
+that followed Mat's death. Sometimes Mollie accompanied her, but oftener
+she was alone. Nothing cheered Thomas O'Brien more than the society of
+his favourite. He loved to talk to her of the dear ones who had passed
+within the veil, and to Audrey herself the visits were very soothing.
+
+She liked those solitary walks under the gray November skies, or when
+the December sun hung redly behind the distant hedgerows. How often she
+had walked there when Cyril had met her half-way, or she had come upon
+him lingering in the lanes, with Zack bounding beside him. It was in the
+Brail lanes that he first told her of his love, when she had sent him
+sorrowfully away from her; but somehow, as she walked there now, between
+hedgerows white with hoar frost, she thought less of him than of
+Michael; but as yet no message had been sent to recall the wanderer
+home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+BOOTY'S MASTER
+
+     'And she to him will reach her hand,
+     And gazing in his eyes will stand,
+     And know her friend and weep for glee,
+     And cry, "Long, long, I've looked for thee."'
+
+                                   MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Kester had spent his Christmas holidays at Woodcote; Audrey loved to
+have him with her. Somehow he seemed to belong to Michael, and the boy
+warmly returned her affection.
+
+'Do you know that Mr. Abercrombie is coming home in March?' he said to
+her the day before he went back to Brighton; 'he is quite well now, and
+Captain Burnett says he is in a fever to get back to England. Do you
+think Captain Burnett will come, too?' and Kester looked anxiously in
+her face.
+
+Audrey could not satisfy Kester on this point; nevertheless, she felt a
+secret hope stirring in her heart that Michael would not stay away much
+longer. After all, was it likely that he would wait for the message when
+he must know how impossible it would be for her to send it? He had been
+away seven months, and by this time he must be growing homesick.
+
+Almost the same thought occurred to Michael as, early in March, he sat
+in the loggia of an old Florentine palace, where he and his friend had a
+suite of rooms.
+
+How long had he been away, he wondered, as he looked out on the
+sunset--seven, nay, eight months; and as yet there had been no recall.
+Had he really expected it? Would it not be as well to go back and plead
+his own cause, and see what these months of absence had done for him, or
+should he wait a little longer?
+
+Michael's self-imposed exile had not been unhappy. His companion was
+congenial to him; the varied scenes through which he had passed, the
+historic interest of the cities, had engrossed and interested him; and,
+perhaps for the first time, he tasted the delights of a well-filled
+purse, as he accumulated art treasures and pictures; but, above all, a
+latent hope, to which he gave no voice or title, kept him patient and
+cheerful.
+
+'It was too soon; but by and by she will find it out for herself,' he
+would say, as he strolled through the galleries, or stood by some
+moss-grown fountain to buy flowers from a dark-eyed Florentine girl.
+
+Should he go back with Abercrombie next week, or should he push on
+towards Greece and the Holy Land? It was a little difficult to decide,
+but somehow Michael never answered that question. Fate took the matter
+into her own hands, as she often does when the knot becomes too
+intricate for the bungling fingers of poor mortals.
+
+Somehow Audrey became convinced in her own mind that Michael would
+certainly accompany his friend back to England. They had started
+together; was it likely that Michael would allow him to return alone?
+and when March came she began to look anxiously for a letter announcing
+this intention.
+
+She was thinking of this one afternoon as she sat talking to her mother.
+It was a cold, dreary day, and Audrey had just remarked that no one in
+Rutherford would think of leaving their fireside on such an afternoon,
+when Geraldine entered, glowing from the cold wind, and looking cosy and
+comfortable in her warm furs.
+
+'My dear, what a day to venture out,' remonstrated her mother; 'even
+Audrey says the wind is cruel.'
+
+'I am not such a foe to the east wind as Michael is,' returned Geraldine
+cheerfully, as she seated herself out of the range of the fire; 'and
+Percival never likes me to cosset myself--that is why I never take cold.
+By the bye, I heard something about Michael a little while ago. Just as
+I was talking to Mrs. Charrington, who should come in but Dora
+Abercrombie! You know Dora, Audrey. She is the second one; but she is
+not half so good-looking as Gwendoline.'
+
+'She is related to Mrs. Charrington, is she not, Gage?'
+
+'Yes; a step-niece, or something of that sort; not a very near
+relationship, but they are very intimate. She says her brother is
+expected in Portland Place to-morrow or the day after.' Here Audrey gave
+a start. 'Take care, my dear: the urn is running over; you are filling
+the teapot too full. Shall I ring for Crauford? No? Well, as I was
+saying'--rather absently, for her eyes were still following the thin
+stream on the tea-tray that Audrey was hurriedly wiping up--'Master Dick
+is expected back--and here Dora was a trifle mysterious; and then it
+came out that he was engaged--had been engaged for the last eight
+months; only the mother of his lady-love had turned restive. But now
+things were smoother, and she hoped that they would soon be married.
+Poor Michael! I am afraid he has not had a very cheerful companion all
+these months.'
+
+'Did Miss Abercrombie mention Michael?' asked Audrey, speaking with
+manifest effort. How tiresome Gage was! as though anyone wanted to hear
+about Dick Abercrombie's love affairs!
+
+'Oh dear yes! and that is the worst part of all,' returned Geraldine,
+with the zest that is always shown by the bearer of bad news, even by a
+superior person like young Mrs. Harcourt. 'I had no idea Michael would
+play truant for so long: actually she says her brother is coming home
+without him! and he is going to spend the summer and autumn in Greece
+and the Holy Land, and perhaps winter in Algiers. In fact, Dick
+Abercrombie says he does not know when he means to come back.'
+
+'What is that you say, my dear?' asked Dr. Ross, who entered the room in
+time to hear the last clause. 'Were you speaking of Michael?'
+
+'Yes, father dear.' And Geraldine willingly recapitulated the whole of
+her speech for his benefit. 'And I do wish someone would write and give
+him a good scolding for staying away so long, as though no one wanted
+him! And we have all been missing him so badly!'
+
+'By the bye, that reminds me that I was called away just now to speak to
+Fergusson, and I have actually left my letter to Michael open on my
+study-table; and I meant it to go by this post. Do you mind just
+slipping it into its envelope, Audrey?--it is already directed. Thank
+you, my dear,' as Audrey silently left the room.
+
+Was Dr. Ross really anxious about his letter, or had he noticed the
+white look on his daughter's face, and feared that others might notice
+it too?
+
+Audrey never knew how long she sat before her father's study-table,
+neither could she have recalled a single thought that passed through her
+mind. A dull throbbing pain was at her heart; the cold numbness that had
+crept over her as Michael had bidden her good-bye, and which kept her
+dumb before him, was over her now--some strange pulse seemed beating in
+her head. He was going still farther away from her. He was not coming
+back. He would never come back. Something would happen to him. She would
+never see his kind face again--never, never!
+
+Perhaps this long silence had angered him--Michael, who had always been
+so gentle to her, on whose face she had never seen a frown! Michael had
+grown weary of endurance, and had given up all hope of winning her. Oh,
+if he had only trusted her! if he would only have believed that she
+would have done her very best to make him happy! How could he be so
+cruel to himself and to her? How could he have the heart to punish her
+so bitterly, as though she were to blame? Could she help her nature any
+more than she could help this separation from her dearest friend?
+
+And then there came over her the deadly feeling of possible loss, and a
+desolation too terrible to contemplate. She had mourned very tenderly
+for Cyril; but if Michael died--if any ill should befall him in those
+distant lands--'Oh, I could not bear it!' was her inward cry. 'Life
+without Michael would be impossible,' and as this thought flashed
+through her mind her eyes suddenly fell on an empty space at the end of
+her father's letter. With a sudden impulse she took up the pen and wrote
+three words across the page in her clear, legible writing--'Michael,
+come. Audrey.' She was almost breathless with her haste as she thrust it
+into the envelope, and carried it to the boy who was waiting for the
+letters. Then she went back to the drawing-room, for she dare not trust
+herself to be alone another moment. What had she done? What would
+Michael think of her? What must she think of herself? No wonder
+Geraldine looked at her in surprise as she crossed the room and took up
+her work.
+
+'What a time you have been, Audrey!' she said, a little reproachfully.
+'I have been waiting to bid you good-bye. Father is going to walk with
+me to Hillside, so Percival will not mind my being so late. How cold
+your face and hands are, and I am as warm as possible! You have been
+running about those draughty passages, and have taken a chill. She looks
+pale, doesn't she, mother?'
+
+'Come, come,' interrupted her father impatiently, 'you must not keep me
+waiting any longer, Geraldine. Sit down by the fire and warm yourself,
+my dear.'
+
+And for one moment Dr. Ross's hand lay lightly on Audrey's brown hair.
+Did he guess the real meaning of the girl's downcast and sorrowful
+looks? And why was there a pleased smile on his face as he followed his
+eldest daughter out of the room?
+
+'I shall write to Michael and tell him to come home,' he said to
+himself, as he buttoned up his great-coat. 'I promised him that I would
+watch over his interests, and I shall tell him that in my opinion there
+is some hope for him now.'
+
+The next few days were terrible to Audrey. More than once she feared she
+would be ill. She could not sleep properly. The mornings, the
+afternoons, the evenings, were endless to her. Mollie's merry chatter
+seemed to jar on her. Her mother's kindly commonplace remarks seemed
+devoid of interest, and yet above all things she dreaded to be alone.
+Was she growing nervous? for any sudden sound, an unaccustomed footstep,
+even the clanging of the door-bell, made her start, and drove the blood
+from her heart. Would he write or would he telegraph? Should she hear
+one day that he was on his way home? Audrey was asking herself these
+questions morning, noon, and night. She felt as though the suspense
+would wear her out in time. If anyone had told Audrey that for the
+first time in her life she had all the symptoms that belong to a
+certain well-known disease--that these cold and hot fits, this
+self-distrustfulness and new timidity that were transforming her into a
+different Audrey, were only its salient features--she would have scouted
+the idea very fiercely. That she was in love with Michael, and that her
+love for Cyril was a very dim, shadowy sort of affection compared with
+her love for Michael,--such a thought would have utterly shocked her;
+and yet it was the truth. Michael had always been more to her than ever
+she had guessed, and this long absence had taught her the unmistakable
+fact that she could not do without him.
+
+Audrey struggled on as well as she could through those restless,
+miserable days. She would not give in; she had never given in in her
+life to any passing tide of emotion, and she would not be weak now.
+Every morning, after a wakeful, unrefreshing night, she braced herself
+to meet the day's duties. She read French and German with Mollie; she
+superintended her practising, and only wandered off in a dream when
+Mollie's scales and exercises became too monotonous. She went up to
+Hillside and played with Leonard in the nursery, and though Geraldine's
+sharp eyes discovered that something was amiss, and that Audrey was not
+in her usual spirits, she had the tact and wisdom not to press for an
+immediate confidence; and Audrey was very grateful for this forbearance.
+Audrey's sturdy nature could brook no self-indulgence, and though the
+March winds were cold, and the Brail lanes deep in miry clay, she
+persisted in paying her accustomed weekly visit to Thomas O'Brien.
+
+Mollie had a cold, and so had established a claim to remain by the
+fireside; but Audrey would listen to no weak persuasion to ensconce
+herself comfortably in the opposite easy-chair. On the contrary, she put
+on her thickest boots, and, tucking up her skirts, braved wind and mud,
+and even a cold mizzle of rain, on her way back, and had her reward, for
+the walk freshened her, and in cheering her old friend she felt her own
+spirits revive.
+
+She was in a happier mood as she let herself in, and shook out her wet
+cloak. She was in far too disreputable a state to present herself in the
+drawing-room; besides, she was late, and she must get ready for dinner.
+She ran upstairs lightly, but at the top of the staircase she suddenly
+stopped as though she had been turned to stone. And yet there was
+nothing very astonishing in the fact that a small brown dog, with very
+short legs, should be pattering in a cheerful manner down the corridor,
+or that he should utter a whine of friendly and delighted recognition
+when he saw Audrey; and if she stared at him as though he were some
+ghostly apparition, that was not Booty's fault. But the next moment she
+had caught him up, and had darted with him into her own room.
+
+'Oh, Booty, Booty!' she gasped, as the little animal licked her pale
+face in a most feeling manner; 'to think he has come, Booty!' And if the
+application of a warm tongue could have given comfort and assurance,
+Audrey could have had plenty of both.
+
+For a little while she could do nothing but sit there hugging the dog,
+and making little plaintive speeches to him, until she heard Mollie's
+step at the door, and then she put him down hastily.
+
+'Oh, Audrey dear!' exclaimed Mollie, breathless with excitement. 'Have
+you really got back at last? They are all asking for you. Dinner is
+nearly ready, and you have not begun to dress yet. And who do you think
+is in the drawing-room?'
+
+For Booty, who always knew when he was not wanted, had pattered softly
+out of the room, thinking it high time to rejoin his master.
+
+'Is it Michael?' asked Audrey, with her face well hidden in her
+wardrobe.
+
+'To think of your guessing like that!' returned Mollie in a vexed tone.
+'Whatever put Captain Burnett in your head, Audrey? Everyone else is so
+surprised. Mrs. Ross nearly jumped off her chair when she heard his
+voice. He has been here two hours, and we have all been so busy getting
+his room ready.'
+
+'I am very glad he has come,' returned Audrey, trying to speak as usual;
+'but now will you go down, Mollie dear? for I shall dress more quickly
+if you do not talk to me. You may give me my dress if you like. There,
+that will do.' For Mollie's chatter was unendurable.
+
+'How was she to go down and meet him before them all?' she thought, as
+her trembling fingers bungled with the fastening. Her cheeks were
+burning, and yet her hands were cold as ice. Would he see how nervous
+she was, and how she dreaded to meet him? And yet the thought that he
+was there--in the house--and that in a few minutes she should hear his
+beloved voice, made her almost dizzy with happiness. And as she clasped
+the brilliant cross on her neck she hardly dare look at herself, for
+fear she should read her own secret in her eyes.
+
+The gong sounded before she was ready, and she dared not linger, for
+fear Mollie should come again in search of her. Without giving herself
+time for thought, she hurried down, and stood panting a little before
+the drawing-room door. Yes, they were all there: her father and mother
+and Mollie; and someone else--imperfectly seen through a sort of
+haze--was there too! Audrey never knew what word of greeting came to her
+lips as Michael took her hand. Her eyes were never lifted, as she felt
+that strong, warm pressure. His low-toned 'I have come, Audrey,' might
+mean anything or nothing, and was met by absolute silence on her part.
+Perhaps Michael felt this meeting embarrassing, for he dropped her hand
+in another moment and spoke to Mollie, and Audrey took refuge with her
+father.
+
+But dinner was on the table, and she must take her seat opposite to him.
+It was Mollie who was beside him. Happily, no one spoke to her for the
+first few minutes. Dr. Ross was questioning Michael about his route, and
+Michael seemed to have a great deal to say about his journey.
+
+Audrey recovered herself, and breathed a little more freely. He was
+talking to her father, and she could venture one glance at him. How well
+he looked! He was not so pale, and his moustache seemed darker--she had
+never thought him handsome before. But at this point, and as though
+aware of her scrutiny, Michael turned his face full on her, and a flash
+from the keen blue eyes made her head droop over her plate. During the
+rest of dinner she scarcely spoke, and more than once Mrs. Ross looked
+at her in some perplexity. Audrey was very strange, she thought. Had she
+and Michael quarrelled, that they had met so coldly, with not even a
+cousinly kiss after his long absence. And now they did not speak to each
+other!
+
+Dinner was later than usual that night, and the prayer-bell sounded
+before they left the table. Audrey whispered to Mollie to play the hymn;
+but she was almost sorry she had done so when she found that Michael had
+no hymn-book, and she must offer him hers. He took it from her, perhaps
+because he noticed that her hand was not steady; and she could hear his
+clear, full bass, though she could not utter a note.
+
+He was still beside her as they left the schoolroom; but as she was
+about to follow her mother and Mollie, she felt his hand on hers.
+
+'Come with me a moment,' he said. 'I want to show you something.'
+
+And there was no resisting the firm grasp that compelled her to obey. He
+was taking her to her father's study; and there he shut the door, as
+though to exclude the outer world. She was trembling with the fear of
+what he would say to her, and how she was to answer him, when he came up
+to her and said, in his old familiar voice:
+
+'Are you never going to look at me again, Audrey?'
+
+Something amused, and yet caressing, in his tone made her raise her
+eyes, and the look that met hers said so plainly that he understood
+everything, that her embarrassment and shyness passed away for ever; and
+as he took her in his arms, with a word or two that told her of his deep
+inward gladness, a sense of well-being and utter content seemed to
+assure her that she had found her true rest at last.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI
+
+'LOVE'S AFTERMATH'
+
+     'I seek no copy now of life's first half:
+     Leave here the pages with long musing curled,
+     And write me new my future's epigraph,
+     New angel mine, unhoped for in the world.'
+
+                                    MRS. BROWNING.
+
+
+Neither of them spoke for some minutes; perhaps Michael's strong emotion
+felt the need of silence. But presently he said in a voice that thrilled
+her with its tenderness:
+
+'Audrey, you must never be afraid of me again.'
+
+'I shall never need to be afraid again,' she returned softly. 'Oh,
+Michael, if you only knew how dreadful it has been all the week! I would
+not go through it again for worlds.'
+
+'Has it been so bad as that?' in his old rallying tone, for he saw how
+greatly she was moved.
+
+'You have no idea how bad it was. I felt that I had done something very
+bold and unmaidenly in writing that postscript to father's letter. I had
+longed for your return; but after that I began to dread it: I was so
+afraid of what you must think of me.'
+
+'I think you have known my opinion on that subject for a great many
+years,' he replied gently. 'If you had not been different from other
+girls, if you had not been immeasurably above them all in my eyes, I
+would never have asked you to send me that message. I knew I could rely
+on your perfect truth, and you have not disappointed me.'
+
+This delicate flattery soothed her and appeased her sensitiveness.
+Michael watched her for a moment; then he drew up a chair to the fire in
+his old way.
+
+'You must sit there and talk to me for a little while,' he said
+quietly.
+
+And as she looked at him rather doubtfully, and suggested that her
+mother would be wondering at their absence, he negatived the idea at
+once.
+
+'By this time your father will have told her everything; he has been in
+my confidence all these months. No, they will not want us, and I have
+not seen you yet--at least, you have not seen me; I am quite sure of
+that.' And as Audrey's dimples came into play at this remark, he very
+nearly made her feel shy again by saying, 'You have no idea how lovely
+you have grown, Audrey! Has anyone told you so, I wonder?'
+
+'No, of course not. Who do you think would talk such nonsense to me?'
+
+But her blush made him still more certain of the fact.
+
+'At any rate, it is the dearest face in the world to me,' he went on,
+still more earnestly. 'Audrey, I think even if you had not written those
+three little words, I must still have come home. I could not have stayed
+away from you any longer.'
+
+'If I had only known that, I might have spared myself a great deal of
+pain,' she replied quickly; 'but they told me that you were going to
+Greece and the Holy Land, and Mr. Abercrombie had come back alone, and I
+thought--I thought that I should never see you again.'
+
+'I began to have the same sort of feeling myself, and then I was so
+tired of waiting. How long have I wanted you, Audrey?--ten or twelve
+years, at least. I begin to think that there never was such a fellow for
+constancy.'
+
+'Ten or twelve years! What can you mean, Michael?'
+
+But she knew well enough what he meant, only she was woman enough to
+love to hear him say it.
+
+'Oh, it was quite twelve years ago! I can remember the occasion quite
+well. You were in a short white frock, and you had your hair streaming
+over your shoulders. You were such a pretty little girl, Audrey. I
+admired you far more than I admired Gage, with all her regular
+features.'
+
+'Oh, what nonsense, Michael!'
+
+'Nonsense! You will tell me next that you do not remember asking me to
+give you a kiss. "I want to kiss you, Mike, because you are so nice and
+smart." Do you think I shall ever forget that? I lost my heart to you
+then.'
+
+'You must not expect me to remember those things,' she returned,
+blushing like a rose.
+
+'No, darling, I suppose not; you were only a child then. But, all the
+same, these memories are very sweet to me. You have been my one and only
+love, and you know that now.'
+
+'Oh, Michael!' And now the gray eyes filled with tears, for these words
+sounded like a reproach to her.
+
+'You must not misunderstand me,' he returned, shocked at her evident
+misconception of his words. 'Do you think that I begrudge the love you
+gave that poor fellow? Some day, when you are my wife, I will tell you
+all I think on this subject; but not now--not to-night, of all nights,
+when I know and feel for the first time that my treasure is in my own
+keeping.'
+
+And then he stopped, and, in rather an agitated voice, begged her that
+he might not see tears in her dear eyes to-night.
+
+'I did not mean to be foolish,' she returned, in a low voice; 'only,
+when I think of all you have suffered, and how patient you have been,
+and how beautifully you bore it all for our sakes, I feel as though I
+should never make up to you for all you have gone through. Michael'--and
+here her look was a little wistful--'are you sure that I shall never
+disappoint you--that what I have to give will content you?'
+
+But his answer fully satisfied her on this point. He was more than
+content, he said; he needed no assurances of her affection--he would
+never need them. The first look at her face had told him all he wanted
+to know.
+
+'I think I can read your very thoughts, Audrey--that I know you better
+than you know yourself;' and as Michael said this there was a smile upon
+his face that seemed to baffle her--a smile so penetrating and sweet
+that it lingered in her memory long afterwards.
+
+And a few minutes later Michael proved the truth of his words. He was
+showing her the ring that he had chosen--a half-hoop of diamonds of the
+finest water, and their lustre and brilliancy almost dazzled Audrey.
+
+'I remember your love for diamonds,' he said, as he took her hand.
+
+But she did not answer him. She was looking rather sadly at a little
+gold ring she had always worn.
+
+'Do not take it off!' he said hastily, as he read the tender reluctance
+in her face. 'Dear Audrey, why should not my diamonds keep company with
+his ring?' And, as her eyes expressed her gratitude, he slipped the
+brilliant ring into its place. 'They will soon have to make way for
+another. The diamonds will make a capital guard.'
+
+But though he evidently expected an answer to this, Audrey made no
+response, except to remark on the lateness of the hour; and then Michael
+did consent to adjourn to the drawing-room.
+
+They were eagerly expected and heartily welcomed, and as her father
+folded her in his arms with a murmured blessing, and she received her
+mother's tearful congratulations, Audrey felt how truly they appreciated
+her choice. On this occasion there were no drawbacks, no whispered fear
+of what Geraldine and her husband might say. Mrs. Ross begged that she
+might be allowed to carry the good news to Hillside. They were coming up
+to dinner, and she thought that it was due to them that they should be
+prepared beforehand; and, as everyone assented to this, Mrs. Ross
+started early the next morning on her delightful embassage.
+
+But she had miscalculated the amount of pleasure that her news would
+impart. Geraldine cried with joy when she heard the news, and nothing
+would satisfy her except to put on her bonnet and walk back with her
+mother to Woodcote.
+
+She interrupted a delightful _tête-à-tête_ between the lovers. Not that
+either of them minded; for, as Michael sensibly remarked, he expected
+that they would have plenty of _tête-à-têtes_ in their life, and Audrey
+was sufficiently fond of her sister to welcome her under any
+circumstances.
+
+'How did you think I could wait until the evening?' she said, as she
+threw her arms round Audrey. 'Oh, my darling, do you know how glad I am
+about this? And to think that no one ever imagined it would be Michael!'
+And then, as he gave her a brotherly kiss, and begged that he, too,
+might be congratulated, she continued earnestly: 'Yes, indeed; and we
+have all been as blind and stupid as possible! And yet, when one comes
+to think of it, you and Audrey are cut out for each other.'
+
+'I was afraid you might say something about the disparity in our
+ages--five-and-twenty and forty; and actually I have some gray hairs
+already, Gage.'
+
+'Nonsense!' she returned indignantly. 'I never saw you look younger and
+better in your life; and as for disparity, as you call it, isn't it just
+the same between Percival and myself? and can any couple be happier? If
+you are only as good to Audrey as Percival is to me, she will be the
+happiest woman in the world!'
+
+It was a pity Mr. Harcourt could not see his wife as she made this
+speech, for she looked so lovely in her matronly dignity that Michael
+and Audrey exchanged an admiring glance. But the climax of their success
+was felt to be reached when Mr. Harcourt arrived that evening.
+
+'You have done the best day's work that ever you did in your life when
+you said "Yes" to Burnett!' was his first speech to Audrey; and then he
+had turned very red, and wrung her hand with such violence that it
+throbbed with pain.
+
+'I think you ought to give her a kiss, Percy,' suggested his wife a
+little mischievously; for it was well known that Mr. Harcourt objected
+to any such demonstration, except to his own wife.
+
+'No, thank you,' returned Audrey, stepping back. 'I am quite sure of
+Percival's sympathy without putting it to such a painful proof.'
+
+'I shall kiss Audrey on her wedding-day,' replied Mr. Harcourt solemnly;
+'that is, if her husband will permit me,' with a bow to Michael.
+
+But this remark drove his sister-in-law to the other end of the room, so
+that she lost a certain straightforward and complimentary speech that
+gave a great deal of pleasure to Michael, and which he never could be
+induced to repeat to her.
+
+No one could doubt Audrey's happiness after the first few days of
+strangeness had worn off, and she had grown used to her new position as
+Michael's _fiancée_. Michael had been very careful not to scare her at
+first--he had no wish to bring back the shyness that had made their
+first evening such a misery to them both--and his forbearance was
+rewarded when he saw the old frankness and joyousness return, and Audrey
+became her own sweet self again.
+
+Michael was an ardent lover, but he was not an exacting one: Audrey
+could have had as much freedom as she needed during their brief
+engagement, but she had ceased to desire such freedom.
+
+She remembered sometimes with faint, unavoidable regret that Cyril's
+demonstrativeness had at times wearied her; but she had no such feeling
+with Michael: when he left her for a few days to complete the purchase
+of a pretty little property he had secured for their future home in one
+of the loveliest spots in Surrey, she was as restless during his absence
+as ever Geraldine had been.
+
+Michael was surprised to find how she had missed him, and how overjoyed
+she was at his return; but he never told her so, or ever alluded to the
+mistake that had doomed them both to such misery.
+
+'My innocent darling! how could she know that I loved her, when I never
+told her so? It was I who would have been to blame if she had married
+Cyril. God grant that in that case she might never have found out her
+mistake; but I do not know. She would always have cared too much for
+Michael, and he would have found it out in time;' but he kept such
+thoughts to himself.
+
+Audrey had no objection to offer when Michael pleaded that they should
+be married early in August. He had waited long enough, she knew, and
+there was nothing to gain by waiting.
+
+But she had a long talk with her mother and Geraldine about Mollie, whom
+she still regarded as her special _protégée_.
+
+'Michael has Kester,' she suggested; 'so I daresay he will not mind
+Mollie sharing our home.'
+
+'You will make a great mistake if you ask him any such question,'
+returned Geraldine, in her practical, matter-of-fact way. 'Kester will
+be at Oxford, and during the long vacation he will join some reading
+party or other--Michael told me so; but Mollie would want a home all the
+year round. Why do you not leave her at Woodcote? Mother will be
+dreadfully dull without you at first, and, of course, I cannot always be
+with her. You are very fond of Mollie, are you not, mother?'
+
+'She is a dear, good child, and I should love to have her with me,' was
+Mrs. Ross's reply. 'That is a clever thought of yours, my love, and
+Michael certainly will want his wife to himself--men always do.'
+
+'If you really think so, mother, and if Mollie does not mind, she shall
+stay at Woodcote,' was Audrey's reply.
+
+And when Mollie was consulted she proved quite willing to do as they all
+wished.
+
+'Of course, dear Mrs. Ross will be dull. And I know I should only be in
+Captain Burnett's way,' argued Mollie, a little tearfully. 'I knew that
+from the first. I shall miss you dreadfully, Audrey. No one will ever
+take your place; but I shall feel as though I were helping you somehow.'
+
+'Yes, and then you will pay me long visits, Mollie; and, of course,
+Michael will often bring me to see mother.'
+
+And this charming prospect, and the promise that she should be Audrey's
+bridesmaid, speedily consoled Mollie.
+
+Michael had stipulated that their honeymoon should be spent in Scotland,
+and to Audrey's amusement Braemar was the place he finally selected,
+and he would have the very cottage, or rather cottages, that Dr. Ross
+had taken for his family.
+
+'We can shut up some of the rooms and only use as many as we want,' he
+said, when Mrs. Ross had complained of the roominess. 'We are rich
+people, and can afford it; and as Crauford is to be Audrey's maid, she
+can come with us and see that things are comfortable. Do you remember
+that sitting-room, Audrey, and the horse-hair sofa, and the
+rowan-berries and heather in the big china jars? By the bye, you must
+have a gray tweed dress and a deerstalker cap, and look as you used to
+look; and there is the little bridge where Gage and I used to meet you
+all when you had had a day's outing on the moors. Shall you not love to
+go there again, Audrey?
+
+And in answer Audrey said 'Yes' rather demurely.
+
+But she was not demure at all when two months afterwards she sat on the
+little bridge in the sunset, watching the very same ducks dibble with
+their yellow bills in the brook that trickled so musically over the
+stones, while Michael stood beside her, lazily throwing in pebbles for
+Booty's amusement; on the contrary, she was laughing and talking with a
+great deal of animation, and, strange to say, she wore the gray tweed,
+and the deerstalker cap was on her bright brown hair.
+
+'We have had such a delicious day!' she was saying. 'I think there is
+nothing, after all, like a Scotch moor. Do look at those ducks, Michael;
+how angry they are with Booty, and how ridiculous they look waddling
+over those wet stones!'
+
+'I was thinking of something else,' he replied; and his tone made Audrey
+look up rather quickly. 'Do you remember your tirade on the subject of
+single blessedness, my Lady Bountiful, and how freedom outbalanced all
+the delights of wedded bliss? I recollect we were on the moors then, and
+Kester was with us, and I took out my pocket-book and wrote down the
+date. Well, I will be magnanimous and not ask an awkward question. Six
+weeks of married life is not such a long time, after all.'
+
+But she interrupted him with some impatience:
+
+'Michael, how can you recall such nonsense? But of course you are only
+doing it to tease me. As though I were not much happier than I was
+then!'
+
+'Are you really happier, Audrey--really and truly, my darling?'
+
+'Oh, Michael, what a question! Am I not your wife? Is not that answer
+enough? Do you think I would change places with any other woman in the
+world, or even with my old self?'
+
+And as he looked at her bright face he knew that she was speaking the
+truth, and that Audrey Burnett so loved and reverenced her husband that
+she was likely to be a happier woman than Audrey Ross had been.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.
+
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+_MORNING POST._--"The edition will be highly appreciated."
+
+_SCOTSMAN._--"This reprint offers peculiar attractions. Of a handy size,
+in one volume, of clear, good-sized print, and with its capital comic
+illustrations, it is a volume to be desired."
+
+_NEWCASTLE CHRONICLE._--"The most satisfactory edition of the book that
+has been issued."
+
+_GLASGOW HERALD._--"None of the recent editions of Dickens can be
+compared with that which Messrs. Macmillan inaugurate with the issue of
+_Pickwick_.... Printed in a large, clear type, very readable."
+
+_GLOBE._--"They have used an admirably clear type and good paper, and
+the binding is unexceptionable.... May be selected as the most desirable
+cheap edition of the immortal 'Papers' that has ever been offered to the
+public."
+
+_MANCHESTER EXAMINER._--"These volumes have a unique interest, for with
+each there is the story of its origin."
+
+_QUEEN._--"A specially pleasant and convenient form in which to re-read
+Dickens."
+
+_STAR._--"This new 'Dickens Series,' with its reproductions of the
+original illustrations, is a joy to the possessor."
+
+
+
+
+_Complete in Twenty-four Volumes. Crown 8vo, tastefully bound in green
+cloth, gilt. Price 3s. 6d. each._
+
+_In special cloth binding, flat backs, gilt tops. Supplied in Sets only
+of 24 volumes. Price £4 4s._
+
+_Also an edition with all the 250 original etchings. In 24 volumes.
+Crown 8vo, gilt tops. Price 6s. each._
+
+THE LARGE TYPE
+BORDER EDITION OF THE
+WAVERLEY NOVELS
+
+EDITED WITH
+_INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS AND NOTES_
+BY
+ANDREW LANG
+SUPPLEMENTING THOSE OF THE AUTHOR.
+
+_With Two Hundred and Fifty New and Original Illustrations by Eminent
+Artists._
+
+
+By the kind permission of the Hon. Mrs. MAXWELL-SCOTT, of Abbotsford,
+the great-granddaughter of Sir WALTER, the MSS. and other material at
+Abbotsford were examined by Mr. ANDREW LANG during the preparation of
+his Introductory Essays and Notes to the Series, so that the BORDER
+EDITION may be said to contain all the results of the latest researches
+as to the composition of the Waverley Novels.
+
+
+The Border Waverley
+
+1. WAVERLEY. With 12 Illustrations by Sir H. RAEBURN, R.A., R. W.
+MACBETH, A.R.A., JOHN PETTIE, R.A., H. MACBETH-RAEBURN, D. HERDMAN,
+W. J. LEITCH, ROBERT HERDMAN, R.S.A., and J. ECKFORD LAUDER.
+
+2. GUY MANNERING. With 10 Illustrations by J. MACWHIRTER, A.R.A., R. W.
+MACBETH, A.R.A., C. O. MURRAY, CLARK STANTON, R.S.A., GOURLAY STEELL,
+R.S.A., F. S. WALKER, R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., and J. B. MACDONALD, A.R.S.A.
+
+3. THE ANTIQUARY. With 10 Illustrations by J. MACWHIRTER, A.R.A., SAM
+BOUGH, R.S.A., R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., W. M'TAGGART, A.R.S.A., J. B.
+MACDONALD, A.R.S.A., and A. H. TOURRIER.
+
+4. ROB ROY. With 10 Illustrations by R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A., and SAM
+BOUGH, R.S.A.
+
+5. OLD MORTALITY. With 10 Illustrations by J. MACWHIRTER, A.R.A., R.
+HERDMAN, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., M. L. GOW, D. Y. CAMERON, LOCKHART
+BOGLE, and ALFRED HARTLEY.
+
+6. THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN. With 10 Illustrations by Sir J. E. MILLAIS,
+Bart., HUGH CAMERON, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., and
+WAL. PAGET.
+
+7. A LEGEND OF MONTROSE and THE BLACK DWARF. With 7 Illustrations by Sir
+GEORGE REID, P.R.S.A., GEORGE HAY, R.S.A., HORATIO MACCULLOCH, R.S.A.,
+W. E. LOCKHART, R.S.A., H. MACBETH-RAEBURN, and T. SCOTT.
+
+8. THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR. With 8 Illustrations by Sir J. E. MILLAIS,
+Bart., JOHN SMART, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., GEORGE HAY, R.S.A., and H.
+MACBETH-RAEBURN.
+
+9. IVANHOE. With 12 Illustrations by AD. LALAUZE.
+
+10. THE MONASTERY. With 10 Illustrations by GORDON BROWNE.
+
+11. THE ABBOT. With 10 Illustrations by GORDON BROWNE.
+
+12. KENILWORTH. With 12 Illustrations by AD. LALAUZE.
+
+13. THE PIRATE. With 10 Illustrations by W. E. LOCKHART, R.S.A., SAM
+BOUGH, R.S.A., HERBERT DICKSEE, W. STRANG, LOCKHART BOGLE, C. J. HOLMES,
+and F. S. WALKER.
+
+14. THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL. With 10 Illustrations by JOHN PETTIE, R.A.,
+and R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A.
+
+15. PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. With 15 Illustrations by W. Q. ORCHARDSON,
+R.A., JOHN PETTIE, R.A., F. DADD, R.I., ARTHUR HOPKINS, A.R.W.S., and
+S. L. WOOD.
+
+16. QUENTIN DURWARD. With 12 Illustrations by AD. LALAUZE.
+
+17. ST. RONAN'S WELL. With 10 Illustrations by Sir G. REID, P.R.S.A.,
+R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A., W. HOLE, R.S.A., and A. FORESTIER.
+
+18. REDGAUNTLET. With 12 Illustrations by Sir JAMES D. LINTON, P.R.I.,
+JAMES ORROCK, R.I., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., W. HOLE, R.S.A., G. HAY, R.S.A.,
+T. SCOTT, A.R.S.A., W. BOUCHER, and FRANK SHORT.
+
+19. THE BETROTHED and THE TALISMAN. With 10 Illustrations by HERBERT
+DICKSEE, WAL. PAGET, and J. LE BLANT.
+
+20. WOODSTOCK. With 10 Illustrations by W. HOLE, R.S.A.
+
+21. THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH. With 10 Illustrations by Sir G. REID,
+P.R.S.A., JOHN PETTIE, R.A., R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A., and ROBERT HERDMAN,
+R.S.A.
+
+22. ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. With 10 Illustrations by R. DE LOS RIOS.
+
+23. COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS and THE SURGEON'S DAUGHTER. With 10
+Illustrations by W. HATHERELL, R.I., and W. B. WOLLEN, R.I.
+
+24. CASTLE DANGEROUS, CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE, ETC. With 10
+Illustrations by H. MACBETH-RAEBURN and G. D. ARMOUR.
+
+
+The Border Waverley
+
+SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS
+
+_TIMES._--"It would be difficult to find in these days a more competent
+and sympathetic editor of Scott than his countryman, the brilliant and
+versatile man of letters who has undertaken the task, and if any proof
+were wanted either of his qualifications or of his skill and discretion
+in displaying them, Mr. Lang has furnished it abundantly in his charming
+Introduction to 'Waverley.' The editor's own notes are judiciously
+sparing, but conspicuously to the point, and they are very discreetly
+separated from those of the author, Mr. Lang's laudable purpose being to
+illustrate and explain Scott, not to make the notes a pretext for
+displaying his own critical faculty and literary erudition. The
+illustrations by various competent hands are beautiful in themselves and
+beautifully executed, and, altogether, the 'Border Edition' of the
+Waverley Novels bids fair to become the classical edition of the great
+Scottish classic."
+
+_SPECTATOR._--"We trust that this fine edition of our greatest and most
+poetical of novelists will attain, if it has not already done so, the
+high popularity it deserves. To all Scott's lovers it is a pleasure to
+know that, despite the daily and weekly inrush of ephemeral fiction, the
+sale of his works is said by the booksellers to rank next below
+Tennyson's in poetry, and above that of everybody else in prose."
+
+_ATHENÆUM._--"The handsome 'Border Edition' has been brought to a
+successful conclusion. The publisher deserves to be complimented on the
+manner in which the edition has been printed and illustrated, and Mr.
+Lang on the way in which he has performed his portion of the work. His
+introductions have been tasteful and readable; he has not overdone his
+part; and, while he has supplied much useful information, he has by no
+means overburdened the volumes with notes."
+
+_NOTES AND QUERIES._--"This spirited and ambitious enterprise has been
+conducted to a safe termination, and the most ideal edition of the
+Waverley Novels in existence is now completed."
+
+_SATURDAY REVIEW._--"Of all the many collections of the Waverley Novels,
+the 'Border Edition' is incomparably the most handsome and the most
+desirable.... Type, paper, illustrations, are altogether admirable."
+
+_MAGAZINE OF ART._--"Size, type, paper, and printing, to say nothing of
+the excessively liberal and charming introduction of the illustrations,
+make this perhaps the most desirable edition of Scott ever issued on
+this side of the Border."
+
+_DAILY CHRONICLE._--"There is absolutely no fault to be found with it,
+as to paper, type, or arrangement."
+
+
+
+
+THE WORKS OF
+THOMAS HARDY
+
+Collected Edition
+
+
+1. TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES.
+
+2. FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD.
+
+3. THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE.
+
+4. A PAIR OF BLUE EYES.
+
+5. TWO ON A TOWER.
+
+6. THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE.
+
+7. THE WOODLANDERS.
+
+8. JUDE THE OBSCURE.
+
+9. THE TRUMPET-MAJOR.
+
+10. THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA.
+
+11. A LAODICEAN.
+
+12. DESPERATE REMEDIES.
+
+13. WESSEX TALES.
+
+14. LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES.
+
+15. A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES.
+
+16. UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE.
+
+17. THE WELL-BELOVED.
+
+18. WESSEX POEMS, and other Verses.
+
+19. POEMS OF THE PAST AND THE PRESENT.
+
+20. A CHANGED MAN, THE WAITING SUPPER, and other Tales.
+
+
+
+
+THE WORKS OF
+CHARLES KINGSLEY
+
+
+WESTWARD HO!
+
+HYPATIA; or, New Foes with an old Face.
+
+TWO YEARS AGO.
+
+ALTON LOCKE, Tailor and Poet. An Autobiography.
+
+HEREWARD THE WAKE, "Last of the English."
+
+YEAST: A Problem.
+
+POEMS: including The Saint's Tragedy, Andromeda, Songs, Ballads, etc.
+
+THE WATER-BABIES: A Fairy Tale for a Land-Baby. With Illustrations by
+LINLEY SAMBOURNE.
+
+THE HEROES; or, Greek Fairy Tales for my Children. With Illustrations by
+the Author.
+
+GLAUCUS; or, The Wonders of the Shore. With Illustrations.
+
+MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY; or, First Lessons in Earth Lore for Children.
+With Illustrations.
+
+AT LAST. A Christmas in the West Indies. With Illustrations.
+
+THE HERMITS.
+
+HISTORICAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
+
+PLAYS AND PURITANS, and other Historical Essays.
+
+THE ROMAN AND THE TEUTON.
+
+PROSE IDYLLS, New and Old.
+
+SANITARY AND SOCIAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
+
+LITERARY AND GENERAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
+
+ALL SAINTS' DAY: and other Sermons.
+
+DISCIPLINE: and other Sermons.
+
+THE GOOD NEWS OF GOD. Sermons.
+
+GOSPEL OF THE PENTATEUCH.
+
+SERMONS FOR THE TIMES.
+
+VILLAGE SERMONS, AND TOWN AND COUNTRY SERMONS.
+
+WESTMINSTER SERMONS.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS
+OF
+F. MARION CRAWFORD
+
+
+1. MR. ISAACS: A Tale of Modern India.
+
+2. DOCTOR CLAUDIUS: A True Story.
+
+3. A ROMAN SINGER.
+
+4. ZOROASTER.
+
+5. MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX.
+
+6. A TALE OF A LONELY PARISH.
+
+7. PAUL PATOFF.
+
+8. WITH THE IMMORTALS.
+
+9. GREIFENSTEIN.
+
+10. TAQUISARA: A Novel.
+
+11. A ROSE OF YESTERDAY.
+
+12. SANT' ILARIO.
+
+13. A CIGARETTE-MAKER'S ROMANCE.
+
+14. KHALED: A Tale of Arabia.
+
+15. THE THREE FATES.
+
+16. THE WITCH OF PRAGUE.
+
+17. MARION DARCHE: A Story without Comment.
+
+18. KATHARINE LAUDERDALE.
+
+19. THE CHILDREN OF THE KING.
+
+20. PIETRO GHISLERI.
+
+21. DON ORSINO.
+
+22. CASA BRACCIO.
+
+23. ADAM JOHNSTONE'S SON.
+
+24. THE RALSTONS.
+
+25. CORLEONE: A Tale of Sicily.
+
+26. VIA CRUCIS: A Romance of the Second Crusade.
+
+27. IN THE PALACE OF THE KING: A Love Story of Old Madrid.
+
+28. CECILIA: A Story of Modern Rome.
+
+29. MARIETTA: A Maid of Venice.
+
+30. THE HEART OF ROME.
+
+31. SOPRANO: A Portrait.
+
+32. THE PRIMADONNA.
+
+33. THE DIVA'S RUBY.
+
+34. "WHOSOEVER SHALL OFFEND----"
+
+35. A LADY OF ROME.
+
+36. ARETHUSA.
+
+37. THE WHITE SISTER.
+
+38. STRADELLA: An Old Italian Love Tale.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS
+OF
+ROLF BOLDREWOOD
+
+
+1. ROBBERY UNDER ARMS: A Story of Life and Adventure in the Bush and in
+the Gold-fields of Australia.
+
+2. A MODERN BUCCANEER.
+
+3. THE MINER'S RIGHT: A Tale of the Australian Gold-fields.
+
+4. THE SQUATTER'S DREAM.
+
+5. A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON.
+
+6. A COLONIAL REFORMER.
+
+7. NEVERMORE.
+
+8. PLAIN LIVING: A Bush Idyll.
+
+9. MY RUN HOME.
+
+10. THE CROOKED STICK; or, Pollie's Probation.
+
+11. OLD MELBOURNE MEMORIES.
+
+12. WAR TO THE KNIFE; or, Tangata Maori.
+
+13. BABES IN THE BUSH.
+
+14. IN BAD COMPANY, and other Stories.
+
+
+
+
+By H. G. WELLS
+
+
+THE PLATTNER STORY: and others.
+
+TALES OF SPACE AND TIME.
+
+THE STOLEN BACILLUS: and other Incidents.
+
+THE INVISIBLE MAN. A Grotesque Romance.
+
+LOVE AND MR. LEWISHAM. A Story of a very Young Couple.
+
+WHEN THE SLEEPER WAKES.
+
+THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON.
+
+TWELVE STORIES AND A DREAM.
+
+THE FOOD OF THE GODS AND HOW IT CAME TO EARTH.
+
+KIPPS: The Story of a Simple Soul.
+
+IN THE DAYS OF THE COMET.
+
+TONO-BUNGAY.
+
+
+
+
+By A. E. W. MASON
+
+
+THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER.
+
+THE PHILANDERERS.
+
+MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY.
+
+
+
+
+By EGERTON CASTLE
+
+
+"LA BELLA": and others.
+
+MARSHFIELD THE OBSERVER.
+
+
+
+
+By AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE
+
+
+THE BATH COMEDY.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF
+ROSA N. CAREY
+
+
+_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE._--"A clever delineator of character, possessed of
+a reserve of strength in a quiet, easy, flowing style, Miss Carey never
+fails to please a large class of readers."
+
+_STANDARD._--"Miss Carey has the gift of writing naturally and simply,
+her pathos is true and unforced, and her conversations are sprightly and
+sharp."
+
+_LADY._--"Miss Carey's novels are always welcome; they are out of the
+common run, immaculately pure, and very high in tone."
+
+
+Nearly 800,000 of these works have been printed.
+
+1. NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 58th Thousand.
+
+2. WEE WIFIE. 42nd Thousand.
+
+3. BARBARA HEATHCOTE'S TRIAL. 35th Thousand.
+
+4. ROBERT ORD'S ATONEMENT. 30th Thousand.
+
+5. WOOED AND MARRIED. 40th Thousand.
+
+6. HERIOT'S CHOICE. 29th Thousand.
+
+7. QUEENIE'S WHIM. 34th Thousand.
+
+8. NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS. 43rd Thousand.
+
+9. MARY ST JOHN. 27th Thousand.
+
+10. FOR LILIAS. 26th Thousand.
+
+11. UNCLE MAX. 36th Thousand.
+
+12. RUE WITH A DIFFERENCE. 24th Thousand.
+
+13. THE HIGHWAY OF FATE. 25th Thousand.
+
+14. ONLY THE GOVERNESS. 40th Thousand.
+
+15. LOVER OR FRIEND? 31st Thousand.
+
+16. BASIL LYNDHURST. 26th Thousand.
+
+17. SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS. 27th Thousand.
+
+18. THE OLD, OLD STORY. 30th Thousand.
+
+19. THE MISTRESS OF BRAE FARM. 32nd Thousand.
+
+20. MRS. ROMNEY and "BUT MEN MUST WORK." 14th Thousand.
+
+21. OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES. 5th Thousand.
+
+22. HERB OF GRACE. 27th Thousand.
+
+23. A PASSAGE PERILOUS. 25th Thousand.
+
+24. AT THE MOORINGS. 21st Thousand.
+
+25. THE HOUSEHOLD OF PETER. 23rd Thousand.
+
+26. NO FRIEND LIKE A SISTER. 21st Thousand.
+
+27. THE ANGEL OF FORGIVENESS. 20th Thousand.
+
+28. THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE HILL. 18th Thousand.
+
+29. THE KEY OF THE UNKNOWN. 17th Thousand.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS AND TALES OF
+CHARLOTTE M. YONGE
+
+
+THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE. With Illustrations by KATE GREENAWAY.
+
+HEARTSEASE; or, the Brother's Wife. New Edition. With Illustrations by
+KATE GREENAWAY.
+
+DYNEVOR TERRACE; or, the Clue of Life. With Illustrations by ADRIAN
+STOKES.
+
+THE DAISY CHAIN; or, Aspirations. A Family Chronicle. With Illustrations
+by J. P. ATKINSON.
+
+THE TRIAL: More Links of the Daisy Chain. With Illustrations by J. P.
+ATKINSON.
+
+THE PILLARS OF THE HOUSE; or, Under Wode, under Rode. Two Vols. With
+Illustrations by HERBERT GANDY.
+
+THE YOUNG STEPMOTHER; or, a Chronicle of Mistakes. With Illustrations by
+MARIAN HUXLEY.
+
+THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. With Illustrations by ADRIAN STOKES.
+
+THE THREE BRIDES. With Illustrations by ADRIAN STOKES.
+
+MY YOUNG ALCIDES: A Faded Photograph. With Illustrations by ADRIAN
+STOKES.
+
+THE CAGED LION. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+THE DOVE IN THE EAGLE'S NEST. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+THE CHAPLET OF PEARLS; or, the White and Black Ribaumont. With
+Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+LADY HESTER; or, Ursula's Narrative; and THE DANVERS PAPERS. With
+Illustrations by JANE E. COOK.
+
+MAGNUM BONUM; or, Mother Carey's Brood. With Illustrations by W. J.
+HENNESSY.
+
+LOVE AND LIFE: an Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume. With
+Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+UNKNOWN TO HISTORY. A Story of the Captivity of Mary of Scotland. With
+Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+THE ARMOURER'S 'PRENTICES. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+SCENES AND CHARACTERS; or, Eighteen Months at Beechcroft. With
+Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+CHANTRY HOUSE. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+A MODERN TELEMACHUS. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+BYWORDS. A collection of Tales new and old.
+
+BEECHCROFT AT ROCKSTONE.
+
+MORE BYWORDS.
+
+A REPUTED CHANGELING; or, Three Seventh Years Two Centuries Ago.
+
+THE LITTLE DUKE, RICHARD THE FEARLESS. With Illustrations.
+
+THE LANCES OF LYNWOOD. With Illustrations by J. B.
+
+THE PRINCE AND THE PAGE: A Story of the Last Crusade. With Illustrations
+by ADRIAN STOKES.
+
+TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+THAT STICK.
+
+AN OLD WOMAN'S OUTLOOK IN A HAMPSHIRE VILLAGE.
+
+GRISLY GRISELL; or, The Laidly Lady of Whitburn. A Tale of the Wars of
+the Roses.
+
+HENRIETTA'S WISH. Second Edition.
+
+THE LONG VACATION.
+
+THE RELEASE; or, Caroline's French Kindred.
+
+THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE BEN BERIAH.
+
+THE TWO GUARDIANS; or, Home in this World. Second Edition.
+
+COUNTESS KATE AND THE STOKESLEY SECRET.
+
+MODERN BROODS; or, Developments Unlooked for.
+
+STROLLING PLAYERS: A Harmony of Contrasts. By C. M. YONGE and C. R.
+COLERIDGE.
+
+STRAY PEARLS. Memoirs of Margaret de Ribaumont, Viscountess of Bellaise.
+With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+
+
+
+Works by Mrs. Craik
+
+
+Olive: A Novel. With Illustrations by G. BOWERS.
+
+Agatha's Husband: A Novel. With Illustrations by WALTER CRANE.
+
+The Head of the Family: A Novel. With Illustrations by WALTER CRANE.
+
+Two Marriages.
+
+The Laurel Bush.
+
+King Arthur: Not a Love Story.
+
+About Money, and other Things.
+
+Concerning Men, and other Papers.
+
+
+
+
+Works by Mrs. Oliphant
+
+
+Neighbours on the Green.
+
+Kirsteen: the Story of a Scotch Family Seventy Years Ago.
+
+A Beleaguered City: A Story of the Seen and the Unseen.
+
+Hester: a Story of Contemporary Life.
+
+He that Will Not when He May.
+
+The Railway Man and his Children.
+
+The Marriage of Elinor.
+
+Sir Tom.
+
+The Heir-Presumptive and the Heir-Apparent.
+
+A Country Gentleman and his Family.
+
+A Son of the Soil.
+
+The Second Son.
+
+The Wizard's Son: A Novel.
+
+Lady William.
+
+Young Musgrave.
+
+
+
+
+The Works of Dean Farrar
+
+
+SEEKERS AFTER GOD. The Lives of Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius.
+
+ETERNAL HOPE. Sermons preached in Westminster Abbey.
+
+THE WITNESS OF HISTORY TO CHRIST.
+
+THE SILENCE AND VOICES OF GOD, with other Sermons.
+
+"IN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH." Sermons on Practical Subjects.
+
+SAINTLY WORKERS. Five Lenten Lectures.
+
+EPHPHATHA; or, the Amelioration of the World.
+
+MERCY AND JUDGMENT: a few last words on Christian Eschatology.
+
+SERMONS & ADDRESSES DELIVERED IN AMERICA.
+
+
+
+
+THE WORKS OF
+Frederick Denison Maurice
+
+
+SERMONS PREACHED IN LINCOLN'S INN CHAPEL. In five vols.
+
+SERMONS PREACHED IN COUNTRY CHURCHES.
+
+CHRISTMAS DAY: and other Sermons.
+
+THEOLOGICAL ESSAYS.
+
+THE PROPHETS AND KINGS OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.
+
+THE PATRIARCHS AND LAWGIVERS OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.
+
+THE GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN.
+
+THE EPISTLES OF ST. JOHN.
+
+THE FRIENDSHIP OF BOOKS: and other Lectures.
+
+THE PRAYER BOOK AND THE LORD'S PRAYER.
+
+THE DOCTRINE OF SACRIFICE. Deduced from the Scriptures.
+
+THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES.
+
+THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST; or, Hints to a Quaker respecting the Principles,
+Constitution, and Ordinances of the Catholic Church. 2 vols.
+
+
+
+
+By J. H. SHORTHOUSE
+
+
+JOHN INGLESANT: A Romance.
+
+SIR PERCIVAL: a Story of the Past and of the Present.
+
+THE LITTLE SCHOOLMASTER MARK.
+
+THE COUNTESS EVE.
+
+A TEACHER OF THE VIOLIN.
+
+BLANCHE, LADY FALAISE.
+
+
+
+
+By GERTRUDE ATHERTON
+
+
+A DAUGHTER OF THE VINE.
+
+THE CALIFORNIANS.
+
+
+
+
+By HUGH CONWAY
+
+
+A FAMILY AFFAIR.
+
+
+
+
+By W. CLARK RUSSELL
+
+
+MAROONED.
+
+
+
+
+By ANNIE KEARY
+
+
+A YORK AND A LANCASTER ROSE.
+
+CASTLE DALY: the Story of an Irish Home thirty years ago.
+
+JANET'S HOME.
+
+A DOUBTING HEART.
+
+THE NATIONS AROUND ISRAEL.
+
+OLDBURY.
+
+
+
+
+By GEORGE BORROW
+
+
+LAVENGRO.
+
+
+
+
+By THOMAS HUGHES
+
+
+TOM BROWN'S SCHOOLDAYS.
+
+TOM BROWN AT OXFORD.
+
+THE SCOURING OF THE WHITE HORSE.
+
+ALFRED THE GREAT.
+
+
+
+
+By ARCHIBALD FORBES
+
+
+BARRACKS, BIVOUACS, AND BATTLES.
+
+
+
+
+By MONTAGU WILLIAMS
+
+
+LEAVES OF A LIFE.
+
+ROUND LONDON.
+
+
+
+
+By E. WERNER
+
+
+FICKLE FORTUNE.
+
+
+
+
+By W. E. NORRIS
+
+
+THIRLBY HALL.
+
+A BACHELOR'S BLUNDER.
+
+
+
+
+The Works of SHAKESPEARE
+
+
+VICTORIA EDITION. In Three Volumes. Vol. I. COMEDIES. Vol. II.
+HISTORIES. Vol. III. TRAGEDIES.
+
+
+
+
+UNIFORM EDITION OF THE
+NOVELS OF CHARLES LEVER
+
+With all the Original Illustrations.
+
+
+1. HARRY LORREQUER. Illustrated by PHIZ.
+
+2. CHARLES O'MALLEY. Illustrated by PHIZ.
+
+3. JACK HINTON THE GUARDSMAN. Illustrated by PHIZ.
+
+4. TOM BURKE OF OURS. Illustrated by PHIZ.
+
+5. ARTHUR O'LEARY. Illustrated by G. CRUIKSHANK.
+
+6. LORD KILGOBBIN. Illustrated by LUKE FILDES.
+
+
+
+
+By W. WARDE FOWLER
+
+
+A YEAR WITH THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
+
+TALES OF THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
+
+MORE TALES OF THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
+
+SUMMER STUDIES OF BIRDS AND BOOKS.
+
+
+
+
+By FRANK BUCKLAND
+
+
+CURIOSITIES OF NATURAL HISTORY. Illustrated. In four volumes:
+
+     FIRST SERIES--Rats, Serpents, Fishes, Frogs, Monkeys, etc.
+
+     SECOND SERIES--Fossils, Bears, Wolves, Cats, Eagles, Hedgehogs,
+     Eels, Herrings, Whales.
+
+     THIRD SERIES--Wild Ducks, Fishing, Lions, Tigers, Foxes, Porpoises.
+
+     FOURTH SERIES--Giants, Mummies, Mermaids, Wonderful People, Salmon,
+     etc.
+
+
+
+
+Works by Various Authors
+
+
+Hogan, M. P.
+
+Flitters, Tatters, and the Counsellor
+
+The New Antigone
+
+Memories of Father Healy
+
+CANON ATKINSON.--The Last of the Giant Killers
+
+---- Playhours and Half-Holidays; or, further Experiences of Two
+Schoolboys
+
+SIR S. BAKER.--True Tales for my Grandsons
+
+R. H. BARHAM.--The Ingoldsby Legends
+
+REV. R. H. D. BARHAM.--Life of Theodore Hook
+
+BLENNERHASSET AND SLEEMAN.--Adventures in Mashonaland
+
+LANOE FALCONER.--Cecilia de Noël
+
+W. FORBES-MITCHELL.--Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny
+
+REV. J. GILMORE.--Storm Warriors
+
+MARY LINSKILL.--Tales of the North Riding
+
+S. R. LYSAGHT.--The Marplot
+
+---- One of the Grenvilles
+
+M. M'LENNAN.--Muckle Jock, and other Stories
+
+G. MASSON.--A Compendious Dictionary of the French Language
+
+MAJOR GAMBIER PARRY.--The Story of Dick
+
+E. C. PRICE.--In the Lion's Mouth
+
+LORD REDESDALE.--Tales of Old Japan
+
+W. C. RHOADES.--John Trevennick
+
+MARCHESA THEODOLI.--Under Pressure
+
+ANTHONY TROLLOPE.--The Three Clerks
+
+CHARLES WHITEHEAD.--Richard Savage
+
+
+
+
+ENGLISH
+MEN OF LETTERS
+
+EDITED BY JOHN MORLEY.
+
+_Arranged in 12 Volumes, each containing the Lives of three Authors._
+
+
+Chaucer. By Dr. A. W. WARD. Spenser. By Dean CHURCH. Dryden. By
+Prof. SAINTSBURY.
+
+Milton. By MARK PATTISON. Goldsmith. By W. BLACK. Cowper. By
+GOLDWIN SMITH.
+
+Byron. By Professor NICHOL. Shelley. By J. A. SYMONDS. Keats. By
+SIDNEY COLVIN.
+
+Charles Lamb. By Canon AINGER. Addison. By W. J. COURTHOPE. Swift.
+By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN, K.C.B.
+
+Scott. By R. H. HUTTON. Burns. By Principal SHAIRP. Coleridge. By
+H. D. TRAILL.
+
+Hume. By Professor HUXLEY, F.R.S. Locke. By THOS. FOWLER. Burke.
+By JOHN MORLEY.
+
+Defoe. By W. MINTO. Sterne. By H. D. TRAILL. Hawthorne. By HENRY
+JAMES.
+
+Fielding. By AUSTIN DOBSON. Thackeray. By ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
+Dickens. By Dr. A. W. WARD.
+
+Gibbon. By J. C. MORISON. Carlyle. By Professor NICHOL. Macaulay.
+By J. C. MORISON.
+
+Sydney. By J. A. SYMONDS. De Quincey. By Prof. MASSON. Sheridan.
+By Mrs. OLIPHANT.
+
+Pope. By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN, K.C.B. Johnson. By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN,
+K.C.B. Gray. By EDMUND GOSSE.
+
+Bacon. By Dean CHURCH. Bunyan. By J. A. FROUDE. Bentley. By Sir
+RICHARD JEBB.
+
+
+
+
+THE GLOBE LIBRARY
+
+Crown 8vo. _3s. 6d._ each.
+
+_The volumes marked with an asterisk (*) are also issued in limp
+leather, with full gilt back and gilt edges. 5s. net each._
+
+
+*Boswell's Life of Johnson. With an Introduction by MOWBRAY MORRIS.
+
+*Burns's Complete Works. Edited from the best Printed and MS.
+Authorities, with Memoir and Glossarial Index. By A. SMITH.
+
+*The Works of Geoffrey Chaucer. Edited by ALFRED W. POLLARD, H. F.
+HEATH, M. H. LIDDELL, and W. S. MCCORMICK.
+
+*Cowper's Poetical Works. Edited, with Biographical Introduction and
+Notes by W. BENHAM, B.D.
+
+Robinson Crusoe. Edited after the original Edition, with a
+Biographical Introduction by HENRY KINGSLEY, F.R.G.S.
+
+*Dryden's Poetical Works. Edited, with a Memoir, Revised Texts, and
+Notes, by W. D. CHRISTIE, M.A.
+
+*The Diary of John Evelyn. With an Introduction and Notes by AUSTIN
+DOBSON, Hon. LL.D. Edin.
+
+Froissart's Chronicles. Translated by Lord BERNERS. Edited by G. C.
+MACAULAY, M.A.
+
+*Goldsmith's Miscellaneous Works. With Biographical Introduction by
+Professor MASSON.
+
+The Iliad of Homer. Done into English Prose by ANDREW LANG, M.A.,
+WALTER LEAF, LITT.D., and ERNEST MYERS, M.A.
+
+Horace. Rendered into English Prose, with Introduction, Notes, etc. By
+J. LONSDALE, M.A., and S. LEE, M.A.
+
+*The Poetical Works of John Keats. Edited, with Introduction and
+Notes, by WILLIAM T. ARNOLD.
+
+Morte Darthur. With Introduction, Notes, and Glossary by Sir E.
+STRACHEY.
+
+*Milton's Poetical Works. Edited, with Introduction, by Professor
+MASSON.
+
+The Diary of Samuel Pepys. With an Introduction and Notes by G.
+GREGORY SMITH.
+
+*Pope's Poetical Works. Edited, with Notes and Introductory Memoir, by
+Sir A. W. WARD.
+
+*Sir Walter Scott's Poetical Works. Edited, with Biographical and
+Critical Memoir, by Prof. F. T. PALGRAVE. With Introduction and Notes.
+
+*Shakespeare's Complete Works. Edited by W. G. CLARK, M.A., and W.
+ALDIS WRIGHT, M.A. With Glossary.
+
+*Spenser's Complete Works. Edited, with Glossary, by R. MORRIS, and a
+Memoir by J. W. HALES, M.A.
+
+*Tennyson's Poetical Works. [Also in extra cloth, gilt edges. _4s.
+6d._]
+
+Virgil. Rendered into English Prose, with Introductions, Notes
+Analysis, and Index. By J. LONSDALE, M.A., and S. LEE, M.A.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+STANDARD NOVELS
+
+Crown 8vo. Cloth Elegant, gilt edges (Peacock Edition). _3s. 6d._ each.
+
+Also issued in ornamental cloth binding. _2s. 6d._ each.
+
+
+By JANE AUSTEN
+
+_With Introductions by_ AUSTIN DOBSON, _and Illustrations by_ HUGH
+THOMSON _and_ C. E. BROCK.
+
+PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.
+SENSE AND SENSIBILITY.
+EMMA.
+MANSFIELD PARK.
+NORTHANGER ABBEY, AND PERSUASION.
+
+
+By J. FENIMORE COOPER
+
+_With Illustrations by_ C. E. BROCK _and_ H. M. BROCK.
+
+THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. With a General Introduction by Mowbray Morris.
+THE DEERSLAYER.
+THE PATHFINDER.
+THE PIONEERS.
+THE PRAIRIE.
+
+
+By MARIA EDGEWORTH
+
+_With Introductions by_ ANNE THACKERAY RITCHIE, _and Illustrations by_
+CHRIS HAMMOND _and_ CARL SCHLOESSER.
+
+ORMOND.
+CASTLE RACKRENT, AND THE ABSENTEE.
+POPULAR TALES.
+HELEN.
+BELINDA.
+PARENT'S ASSISTANT.
+
+
+By CAPTAIN MARRYAT
+
+_With Introductions by_ DAVID HANNAY, _and Illustrations by_ H. M.
+BROCK, J. AYTON SYMINGTON, FRED PEGRAM, F. H. TOWNSEND, H. R. MILLAR,
+_and_ E. J. SULLIVAN.
+
+JAPHET IN SEARCH OF A FATHER.
+JACOB FAITHFUL.
+PETER SIMPLE.
+MIDSHIPMAN EASY.
+THE KING'S OWN.
+THE PHANTOM SHIP.
+SNARLEY-YOW.
+POOR JACK.
+THE PIRATE, AND THE THREE CUTTERS.
+MASTERMAN READY.
+FRANK MILDMAY.
+NEWTON FORSTER.
+
+
+By THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK
+
+_With Introductions by_ GEORGE SAINTSBURY, _and Illustrations by_ H. R.
+MILLAR _and_ F. H. TOWNSEND.
+
+HEADLONG HALL, AND NIGHTMARE ABBEY.
+MAID MARIAN, AND CROTCHET CASTLE.
+GRYLL GRANGE.
+MELINCOURT.
+MISFORTUNES OF ELPHIN AND RHODODAPHNE.
+
+
+_BY VARIOUS AUTHORS_
+
+WESTWARD HO! By CHARLES KINGSLEY. Illustrated by C. E. Brock.
+
+HANDY ANDY. By SAMUEL LOVER. Illustrated by H. M. Brock. With
+Introduction by Charles Whibley.
+
+ANNALS OF THE PARISH. By JOHN GALT. Illustrated By C. E. Brock. With
+Introduction by Alfred Ainger.
+
+SYBIL, OR THE TWO NATIONS, ETC. By BENJAMIN DISRAELI. Illustrated by F.
+Pegram. With Introduction by H. D. Traill.
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+ADVENTURES OF HAJJI BABA OF ISPAHAN. By JAMES MORIER. Illustrated by
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+
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+THE NEW CRANFORD SERIES
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+_Crown 8vo, Cloth Elegant, Gilt Edges, 3s. 6d. per volume._
+
+
+Cranford. By Mrs. GASKELL. With Preface by Anne Thackeray Ritchie and
+100 Illustrations by Hugh Thomson.
+
+The Vicar of Wakefield. With 182 Illustrations by Hugh Thomson, and
+Preface by Austin Dobson.
+
+Our Village. By MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. Introduction by Anne Thackeray
+Ritchie, and 100 Illustrations by Hugh Thomson.
+
+Gulliver's Travels. With Introduction by Sir Henry Craik, K.C.B., and
+100 Illustrations by C. E. Brock.
+
+The Humorous Poems of Thomas Hood. With Preface by Alfred Ainger, and
+130 Illustrations by C. E. Brock.
+
+Sheridan's The School for Scandal and The Rivals. Illustrated by E. J.
+Sullivan. With Introduction by A. Birrell.
+
+Household Stories. By the Brothers GRIMM. Translated by Lucy Crane.
+With Pictures by Walter Crane.
+
+Reynard the Fox. Edited by J. JACOBS. With Illustrations by W. Frank
+Calderon.
+
+Coaching Days and Coaching Ways. By W. OUTRAM TRISTRAM. With
+Illustrations by H. Railton and Hugh Thomson.
+
+Coridon's Song; and other Verses. With Introduction by Austin Dobson
+and Illustrations by Hugh Thomson.
+
+The Fables of Æsop. Selected by JOSEPH JACOBS. Illustrated by R.
+Heighway.
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+Old Christmas. By WASHINGTON IRVING. With Illustrations by R.
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+Bracebridge Hall. With Illustrations by R. CALDECOTT.
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+Rip Van Winkle and the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. With 50 Illustrations
+and a Preface by George H. Boughton, A.R.A.
+
+The Alhambra. With Illustrations by J. Pennell and Introduction by
+E. R. Pennell.
+
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lover or Friend, by Rosa Nouchette Carey</title>
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+<body>
+<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Lover or Friend, by Rosa Nouchette Carey</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Lover or Friend</p>
+<p>Author: Rosa Nouchette Carey</p>
+<p>Release Date: May 22, 2009  [eBook #28925]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVER OR FRIEND***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by David Clarke, Pilar Somoza Fernandez,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>LOVER OR FRIEND</h1>
+
+
+<h5 class="bgap">BY</h5>
+
+<h2>ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY</h2>
+
+<h6>AUTHOR OF 'NELLIE'S MEMORIES,' 'NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS,' ETC.</h6>
+
+
+<h4 class="bgap">MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED</h4>
+
+<h4>ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON</h4>
+
+<h4>1915</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="box">
+<h5>THE NOVELS OF</h5>
+
+<h2>ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY</h2>
+
+<h6><span class="smcap">Popular Edition</span></h6>
+
+<h5><i>Crown 8vo. Cloth extra. 3s. 6d. each.</i></h5>
+
+<ul class="noind">
+<li class="str">NELLIE'S MEMORIES.</li>
+<li class="str">WEE WIFIE.</li>
+<li class="str">BARBARA HEATHCOTE'S TRIAL.</li>
+<li class="str">ROBERT ORD'S ATONEMENT.</li>
+<li class="str">WOOED AND MARRIED.</li>
+<li class="str">HERIOT'S CHOICE.</li>
+<li class="str">QUEENIE'S WHIM.</li>
+<li class="str">MARY ST. JOHN.</li>
+<li class="str">NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS.</li>
+<li class="str">FOR LILIAS.</li>
+<li class="str">UNCLE MAX.</li>
+<li class="str">ONLY THE GOVERNESS.</li>
+<li class="str">LOVER OR FRIEND?</li>
+<li class="str">BASIL LYNDHURST.</li>
+<li class="str">SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS.</li>
+<li class="str">THE OLD, OLD STORY.</li>
+<li class="str">THE MISTRESS OF BRAE FARM.</li>
+<li class="str">MRS. ROMNEY <span class="smcap">and</span> "BUT MEN MUST WORK."</li>
+<li class="str">OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES.</li>
+<li class="str">HERB OF GRACE.</li>
+<li class="str">THE HIGHWAY OF FATE.</li>
+<li class="str">RUE WITH A DIFFERENCE.</li>
+<li class="str">A PASSAGE PERILOUS.</li>
+<li class="str">AT THE MOORINGS.</li>
+<li class="str">THE HOUSEHOLD OF PETER.</li>
+<li class="str">NO FRIEND LIKE A SISTER.</li>
+<li class="str">THE ANGEL OF FORGIVENESS.</li>
+<li class="str">THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE HILL.</li>
+<li class="str">THE KEY OF THE UNKNOWN.</li>
+</ul>
+
+<h4>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class="smcap">Ltd.</span>, LONDON.</h4>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="pb"/>
+
+<h2>LOVER OR FRIEND</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr class="pb"/>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/ill.jpg" width="200" height="58" alt="Printer's mark" title="Printer's mark" />
+</div>
+
+<h5 class="gap">MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED</h5>
+
+<h6>LONDON &middot; BOMBAY &middot; CALCUTTA<br/>
+MELBOURNE</h6>
+
+<h5>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</h5>
+
+<h6>NEW YORK &middot; BOSTON &middot; CHICAGO<br/>
+DALLAS &middot; SAN FRANCISCO</h6>
+
+<h5>THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.</h5>
+
+<h6>TORONTO</h6>
+
+
+
+<hr class="pb"/>
+
+<h6>COPYRIGHT</h6>
+
+<h6><i>First Edition</i> 1890<br/>
+
+<i>Reprinted</i> 1893, 1894, 1898, 1899, 1901, 1902, 1904, 1906, 1910, 1915</h6>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<!--Page v-->
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<table summary="contents">
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr"><span class="sm">CHAP.</span></td><td>&nbsp;</td><td class="tdr"><span class="sm">PAGE</span></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">1.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Blake Family are discussed</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">1</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">2.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Audrey introduces Herself</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">9</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">3.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Blake Family at Home</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">18</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">4.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Michael</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">28</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">5.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The New Master</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">36</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">6.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Gray Cottage</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">47</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">7.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Kester's Hero</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">56</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">8.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">I hope Better Things of Audrey</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">67</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">9.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mat</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">78</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">10.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Priscilla Baxter</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">88</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">11.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">A Girl after my own Heart</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">97</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">12.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mollie goes to Deep-Water Chine</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">107</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">13.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Geraldine gives her Opinion</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">117</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">14.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">I am sorry You asked the Question</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">126</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">15.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Blake has her New Gown</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">137</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">16.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mollie lets the Cat out of the Bag</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">146</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">17.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Among the Brail Lanes</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">155</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">18.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">On a Scotch Moor</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">165</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">19.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Yellow Stockings on the Tapis</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">174</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">20.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">The Little Rift</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">183</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">21.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">He is very Brave</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">192</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">22.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">No, You have not spared Me</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">202</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">23.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Daddy, I want to speak to You</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">210</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">24.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">I felt such a Culprit, You see</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">222</a></td>
+<!--Page v-->
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">25.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mr. Harcourt speaks his Mind</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">232</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">26.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">How Geraldine took it to Heart</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">242</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">27.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">What Michael thought of it</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">252</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">28.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Michael turns over a New Leaf</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">261</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">29.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Two Family Events</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">269</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">30.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">I could not stand it any longer, Tom</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">278</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">31.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Will You call the Guard?</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">286</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">32.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">I did not love Him</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">295</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">33.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Shall You tell Him to-night?</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">305</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">34.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">I must think of my Child, Mike</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">313</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">35.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Olive will acknowledge Anything</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">323</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">36.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">How can I bear it?</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">332</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">37.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">I shall never be Free</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">341</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">38.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Who will comfort Him?</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">351</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">39.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">You will live it down</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">360</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">40.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Michael accepts his Charge</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XL">368</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">41.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">There shall be Peace between Us</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">378</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">42.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Will You shake Hands with your Father?</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">389</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">43.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Michael's Letter</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">399</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">44.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mollie goes into Exile</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">409</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">45.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Audrey receives a Telegram</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">418</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">46.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Inasmuch</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">426</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">47.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Strange Expiation</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">435</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">48.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">On Michael's Bench</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">445</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">49.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Let your Heart plead for Me</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">456</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">50.</td><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Booty's Master</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_L">464</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td class="tdr">51.</td><td class="tdl">'<span class="smcap">Love's Aftermath</span>'</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LI">472</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">{1}</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h1>LOVER OR FRIEND?</h1>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap"><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BLAKE FAMILY ARE DISCUSSED</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'There is nothing, sir, too little for so little a creature as man. It is
+by studying little things that we attain the great art of having as little
+misery and as much happiness as possible.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dr. Johnson.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Everyone in Rutherford knew that Mrs. Ross was ruled by
+her eldest daughter; it was an acknowledged fact, obvious not
+only to a keen-witted person like Mrs. Charrington, the head-master's
+wife, but even to the minor intelligence of Johnnie
+Deans, the youngest boy at Woodcote. It was not that Mrs.
+Ross was a feeble-minded woman; in her own way she was
+sensible, clear-sighted, with plenty of common-sense; but she
+was a little disposed to lean on a stronger nature, and even
+when Geraldine was in the schoolroom, her energy and youthful
+vigour began to assert themselves, her opinions insensibly influenced
+her mother's, until at last they swayed her entirely.</p>
+
+<p>If this were the case when Geraldine was a mere girl, it
+was certainly not altered when the crowning glories of matronhood
+were added to her other perfections. Six months ago
+Geraldine Ross had left her father's house to become the wife
+of Mr. Harcourt, of Hillside; and in becoming the mistress
+of one of the coveted Hill houses, Geraldine had not yet
+consented to lay down the sceptre of her home rule.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross had acquiesced cheerfully in this arrangement.
+She had lost her right hand in losing Geraldine; and during
+the brief honeymoon both she and her younger daughter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">{2}</a></span>
+Audrey felt as though the home machinery were somewhat
+out of gear. No arrangement could be effected without a
+good deal of wondering on Mrs. Ross's part as to what
+Geraldine might think of it, and without a lengthy letter being
+written on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>It was a relief, at least to her mother's mind, when young
+Mrs. Harcourt returned, and without a word took up the reins
+again. No one disputed her claims. Now and then there
+would be a lazy protest from Audrey&mdash;a concealed sarcasm
+that fell blunted beneath the calm amiability of the elder sister.
+Geraldine was always perfectly good-tempered; the sense of
+propriety that guided all her actions never permitted her to
+grow hot in argument; and when a person is always in the
+right, as young Mrs. Harcourt believed herself to be, the small
+irritations of daily life fall very harmlessly. It is possible for
+a man to be so cased in armour that even a pin-prick of
+annoyance will not find ingress. It is true the armour may
+be a little stifling and somewhat inconvenient for work-a-day
+use, but it is a grand thing to be saved from pricks.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt was presiding at the little tea-table in the
+Woodcote drawing-room; there were only two other persons in
+the room. It was quite an understood thing that the young
+mistress of Hillside should walk over to Woodcote two or three
+afternoons in the week, to give her mother the benefit of her
+society, and also to discuss any little matter that might have
+arisen during her brief absence.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt was an exceedingly handsome young woman;
+in fact, many people thought her lovely. She had well-cut
+features, a good complexion&mdash;with the soft, delicate colouring
+that only perfect health ever gives&mdash;and a figure that was at
+once graceful and dignified. To add to all these attractions,
+she understood the art of dressing herself; her gowns always
+fitted her to perfection. She was always attired suitably, and
+though vanity and self-consciousness were not her natural
+foibles, she had a feminine love of pretty things, and considered
+it a wifely duty to please the eyes of her lord and master.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt had the old-fashioned sugar-tongs in her
+hand, and was balancing them lightly for a moment. 'It is
+quite true, mother,' she said decisively, as she dropped the
+sugar into the shallow teacup.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross looked up from her knitting.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Geraldine, I do hope you are mistaken,' she
+returned anxiously.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">{3}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross had also been a very pretty woman, and even
+now she retained a good deal of pleasant middle-aged comeliness.
+She was somewhat stout, and had grown a little inactive
+in consequence; but her expression was soft and motherly, and
+she had the unmistakable air of a gentlewoman. In her
+husband's eyes she was still handsomer than her daughters;
+and Dr. Ross flattered himself that he had made the all-important
+choice of his life more wisely than other men.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear mother, how is it possible to be mistaken?'
+returned her daughter, with a shade of reproof in her voice.
+'I told you that I had a long talk with Edith. Michael, I
+have made your tea; I think it is just as you like it&mdash;with no
+infusion of tannin, as you call it'; and she turned her head
+slowly, so as to bring into view the person she was addressing,
+and who, seated at a little distance, had taken no part in the
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>He was a thin, pale man, of about five or six and thirty,
+with a reddish moustache. As he crossed the room in response
+to this invitation, he moved with an air of languor that
+amounted to lassitude, and a slight limp was discernible. His
+features were plain; only a pair of clear blue eyes, with a
+peculiarly searching expression, distinguished him from a hundred
+men of the same type.</p>
+
+<p>These eyes were not always pleasant to meet. Certain
+people felt disagreeably in their inner consciousness that Captain
+Burnett could read them too accurately&mdash;'No fellow has a
+right to look you through and through,' as one young staff
+officer observed; 'it is taking a liberty with a man. Burnett
+always seems as though he is trying to turn a fellow inside
+out, to get at the other side of him'&mdash;not a very eloquent
+description of a would-be philosopher who loved to dabble a
+little in human foibles.</p>
+
+<p>'I have been listening to the Blake discussion,' he said
+coolly, as he took the offered cup. 'What a wonderful woman
+you are, Gage! you have a splendid talent for organisation;
+and even a thorough-paced scandal has to be organised.'</p>
+
+<p>'Scandal!&mdash;what are you talking about, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'Your talent for organisation, even in trifles,' he returned
+promptly. 'I am using the word advisedly. I have just
+been reading De Quincey's definition of talent and genius. He
+says&mdash;now pray listen, Gage&mdash;that "talent is intellectual power
+of every kind which acts and manifests itself by and through
+the will and the active forces. Genius, as the verbal origin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">{4}</a></span>
+implies, is that much rarer species of intellectual power which
+is derived from the genial nature, from the spirit of suffering
+and enjoying, from the spirit of pleasure and pain, as organised
+more or less perfectly; and this is independent of the will. It
+is a function of the passive nature. Talent is conversant with
+the adaptation of means to ends; but genius is conversant only
+with ends."'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Michael, I have no doubt that all this is exceedingly
+clever, and that your memory is excellent, but why are
+we to be crushed beneath all this analysis?'</p>
+
+<p>'I was only drawing a comparison between you and Audrey,'
+he replied tranquilly. 'I have been much struck by the idea
+involved in the word "genial"; I had no conception we could
+evolve "genius" out of it. Audrey is a very genial person;
+she also, in De Quincey's words, "moves in headlong sympathy
+and concurrence with spontaneous power." This is his definition,
+mark you; I lay no claim to it: "Genius works under a
+rapture of necessity and spontaneity." I do love that expression,
+"headlong sympathy"; it so well expresses the way Audrey
+works.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt gave a little assenting shrug. She was not
+quite pleased with the turn the conversation had taken; abstract
+ideas were not to her taste; the play of words in which Captain
+Burnett delighted bored her excessively. She detected, too, a
+spice of irony. The comparison between her and Audrey was
+not a flattering one: she was far cleverer than Audrey; her
+masters and governesses would have acknowledged that fact.
+And yet her cousin Michael was giving the divine gift of
+genius to her more scantily endowed sister; genius! but, of
+course, it was only Michael's nonsense: he would say anything
+when he was in the humour for disputation. Even her
+own Percival had these contentious moods. The masculine
+mind liked to play with moral ninepins, to send all kinds
+of exploded theories rolling with their little ball of wit; it
+sharpened their argumentative faculties, and kept them bright
+and ready for use.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother and I were talking about these tiresome Blakes&mdash;not
+of Audrey,' she said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. 'If
+you were listening, Michael, you must have heard the whole
+account of my conversation with Mrs. Bryce.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you mean Harcourt's sister, with whom you have
+been staying. Did I not tell you that I had heard every
+word, and was admiring your admirable tactics? The way in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">{5}</a></span>
+which you marshalled your forces of half-truths and implied
+verities and small mounted theories was grand&mdash;absolutely
+grand!'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt was silent for a moment. Michael was very
+trying; he often exercised her patience most severely. But
+there was a threefold reason for her forbearance; first, he was
+her father's cousin, and beloved by him as his own son would
+have been if he had ever had one; secondly, his ill-health
+entitled him to a good deal of consideration from any kind-hearted
+woman; and thirdly, and perhaps principally, he had
+the reputation for saying and doing odd, out-of-the-way things;
+and a man who moves in an eccentric circle of his own is never
+on other people's plane, and therefore some allowance must be
+made for him.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt could, however, have heartily endorsed Mrs.
+Carlyle's opinion of her gifted son, and applied it to her cousin&mdash;'He
+was ill to live with.' Somehow one loves this honest,
+shrewd criticism of the old North-Country woman, the homely
+body who smoked short black pipes in the chimney-corner, but
+whom Carlyle loved and venerated from the bottom of his big
+heart. 'Ill to live with'&mdash;perhaps Michael Burnett, with his
+injured health and Victoria Cross, and the purpose of his life
+all marred and frustrated, was not the easiest person in the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt was silent for an instant; but she never
+permitted herself to be ruffled, so she went on in her smooth
+voice:</p>
+
+<p>'I felt it was my duty to repeat to mother all that Edith&mdash;I
+mean Mrs. Bryce&mdash;told me about the Blakes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Please do not be so formal. I infinitely prefer that fine,
+princess-like name of Edith,' remarked Michael, with a lazy
+twinkle in his eyes; but Mrs. Harcourt would not condescend
+even to notice the interruption.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Bryce,' with a pointed emphasis on the name, 'was
+much concerned when she heard that my father had engaged
+Mr. Blake for his classical master.'</p>
+
+<p>'And why so?' demanded Captain Burnett a little sharply.
+'He has taken a good degree; Dr. Ross seems perfectly
+satisfied with him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, there is nothing against the young man; he is clever
+and pleasant, and very good-looking. It is only the mother
+who is so objectionable. Perhaps I am putting it too strongly&mdash;only
+Mrs. Bryce and her husband did not like her. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">{6}</a></span>
+say she is a very unsatisfactory person, and so difficult to understand.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor Mrs. Blake,' ejaculated her cousin, 'to be judged
+before the Bryce tribunal and found wanting!'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't be ridiculous, Michael!' replied Mrs. Harcourt, in
+her good-tempered way; 'of course you take her part simply
+because she is accused: you are like Audrey in that.'</p>
+
+<p>'You see we are both genial persons; but, seriously, Mrs.
+Blake's list of misdemeanours seems absurdly trifling. She is
+very handsome; that is misdemeanour number one, I believe.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear,' observed Mrs. Ross placidly at this point, for
+she had been too busy counting her stitches to concern herself
+with the strife of words, 'Geraldine only mentioned that as a
+fact: she remarked that Mrs. Blake was a very prepossessing
+person, that she had rather an uncommon type of beauty.'</p>
+
+<p>'That makes her all the more interesting,' murmured
+Captain Burnett, with his eyes half closed. 'I begin to feel
+quite excited about this Mrs. Blake. I do delight in anything
+out of the common.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Edith never denied that she was fascinating. She is
+a clever woman, too; only there were certain little solecisms
+committed that made her think Mrs. Blake was not a thorough
+gentlewoman. They are undoubtedly very poor; and though,
+of course, that is no objection, it is so absurd for people in such
+a position to try and ignore their little shifts and contrivances.
+Honest poverty is to be respected, but not when it is allied to
+pretension.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Gage, was it you or Mrs. Bryce who made that
+exceedingly clever speech! It was really worthy of Dr. Johnson;
+it only wanted a "Sir" to point the Doctor's style. "Sir,
+honest poverty is to be respected, but not when it is allied to
+pretension"&mdash;a good, thorough Johnsonian speech! And so
+the poor woman is poor?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but no one minds that,' returned Mrs. Harcourt,
+somewhat hastily. 'I hope you do not think that anything
+in her outward circumstances has prejudiced my sister-in-law
+against her. As far as that goes, Mrs. Blake deserves credit;
+she has denied herself comforts even to give her son a good
+education. No, it is something contradictory in the woman
+herself that made the Bryces say they would never get on with
+her. She is impulsive, absurdly impulsive; and yet at the
+same time she is reserved. She has a bad temper&mdash;at least,
+Edith declares she has heard her scolding her servant in no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">{7}</a></span>
+measured terms; and then she is so injudicious with her
+children. She absolutely adores her eldest son, Cyril; but
+Edith will have it that she neglects her daughter. And there
+is an invalid boy, too&mdash;a very interesting little fellow; at least,
+I don't know how old he is&mdash;and she is not too attentive to
+him. Housekeeping worries her, and she is fond of society;
+and I know the Bryces think that she would marry again if
+she got the chance.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let the younger widows marry. I hope you do not mean
+to contradict St. Paul. Have we quite finished the indictment,
+Gage? Be it known unto the inhabitants of Rutherford that a
+certain seditious and dangerous person of the name of Blake is
+about to take up her residence in the town&mdash;the list of her misdemeanours
+being as follows, to wit, as they say in old chronicles:
+an uncommon style of beauty, an inclination to replace the
+deceased Mr. Blake, imperfect temper, impulsiveness tempered
+with reserve, unconventionality of habit, poverty combined with
+pretentiousness, and a disposition to slight her maternal duties&mdash;really
+a most interesting person!'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, of course you say that to provoke me; please
+don't listen to him, mother. You understand me if no one else
+does; you know it is Audrey of whom I am thinking. Yes,'
+turning to her cousin, 'you may amuse yourself with turning
+all my speeches into ridicule, but in your heart you agree with
+me. I have often heard you lecturing Audrey on her impulsiveness
+and want of common-sense. It will be just like her to
+strike up a violent friendship with Mrs. Blake&mdash;you know how
+she takes these sudden fancies; and father is quite as bad. I
+daresay they will both discover she is charming before twenty-four
+hours are over; that is why I am begging mother to be
+very prudent, and keep the Blakes at a distance.'</p>
+
+<p>'You agree, of course, Cousin Emmeline?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, my dear, I don't quite like the account Geraldine
+gives me. Mrs. Bryce is a very shrewd person; she is not
+likely to make mistakes. I think I shall give Audrey a hint,
+unless you prefer to do so, Geraldine.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think it will come better from me, mother; you see,
+I shall just retail Edith's words. Audrey is a little difficult
+to manage sometimes; she likes to form her own notions of
+people. There is no time to be lost if they are coming in
+to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought your father said it was to-day that they were
+expected?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">{8}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'No; I am positive Percival said to-morrow. I know the
+old servant and some of the furniture arrived at the Gray
+Cottage two days ago.'</p>
+
+<p>Captain Burnett looked up quickly, as though he were about
+to speak, and then changed his mind, and went on with his
+occupation, which was teaching a small brown Dachs-hund the
+Gladstone trick.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Booty, when I say "Lord Salisbury," you are to eat
+the sugar, but not before. Ah, here comes the bone of contention!'
+he went on in a purposely loud tone, as a shadow
+darkened the window; and the next minute a tall young lady
+stepped over the low sill into the room.</p>
+
+<p>'Were you talking about me?' she asked in a clear voice,
+as she looked round at them. 'How do you do, Gage? Have
+you been here all the afternoon? How is Percival? No more
+tea, thank you; I have just had some&mdash;at the Blakes'.'</p>
+
+<p>'At the Blakes'?' exclaimed her sister, in a horror-stricken
+tone, unable to believe her ears.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. I heard they had come in last night, so I thought it
+would be only neighbourly to call and see if one could do
+anything for them. I met father on the Hill, and he quite
+approved. Mrs. Blake sends her compliments to you, mother;'
+and as only an awful silence answered her, she continued
+innocently: 'I am sure you and Gage will like her. She is
+charming&mdash;perfectly charming! the nicest person I have seen
+for a long time!' finished Audrey, with delightful unconsciousness
+of the sensation she was creating.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">{9}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>AUDREY INTRODUCES HERSELF</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Indeed, all faults, had they been ten times more and greater, would
+have been neutralised by that supreme expression of her features, to the
+unity of which every lineament in the fixed parts, and every undulation
+in the moving parts of her countenance, concurred, viz., a sunny benignity,
+a radiant graciousness, such as in this world I never saw surpassed.'</p>
+
+<p class="sign"><span class="smcap">De Quincey.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>In this innocent fashion had Audrey Ross solved the Gordian
+knot of family difficulty, leaving her mother and sister eyeing
+each other with the aghast looks of defeated conspirators; and
+it must be owned that many a tangled skein, that would have
+been patiently and laboriously unravelled by the skilled fingers
+of Geraldine, was spoilt in this manner by the quick impulsiveness
+of Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>No two sisters could be greater contrasts to each other.
+While young Mrs. Harcourt laid an undue stress on what may
+be termed the minor morals, the small proprieties, and lesser
+virtues that lie on the surface of things and give life its polish,
+Audrey was for ever riding full-tilt against prejudices or raising
+a crusade against what she chose to term 'the bugbear of
+feminine existence&mdash;conventionality.'</p>
+
+<p>Not that Audrey was a strong-minded person or a stickler
+for woman's rights. She had no advanced notions, no crude
+theories, on the subject of emancipation; it was only, to borrow
+Captain Burnett's words, that her headlong sympathies carried
+her away; a passionate instinct of pity always made her range
+herself on the losing side. Her virtues were unequally
+balanced, and her generosity threatened to degenerate into
+weakness. Most women love to feel the support of a stronger
+nature; Audrey loved to support others; any form of suffering,
+mental or physical, appealed to her irresistibly. Her sympathy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">{10}</a></span>
+was often misplaced and excessive, and her power of self-effacement,
+under some circumstances, was even more remarkable,
+the word 'self-effacement' being rightly used here, as
+'self-sacrifice' presupposes some consciousness of action. It
+was this last trait that caused genuine anxiety to those who
+knew and loved Audrey best; for who can tell to what lengths
+a generous nature may go, to whom any form of pain is
+intolerable, and every beggar, worthy or unworthy, a human
+brother or sister, with claims to consideration?</p>
+
+<p>If Audrey were not as clever as her elder sister, she had
+more originality; she was also far more independent in her
+modes of action and thought, and went on her own way without
+reference to others.</p>
+
+<p>'It is not that I think myself wiser than other people,' she
+said once to her cousin, who had just been delivering her a
+lecture on this subject. 'Of course I am always making mistakes&mdash;everyone
+does; but you see, Michael, I have lived so
+long with myself&mdash;exactly two-and-twenty years&mdash;and so I
+must know most about myself, and what is best for this young
+person,' tapping herself playfully.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was certainly not so handsome as her sister. She
+had neither Geraldine's perfection of feature nor her exquisite
+colouring; but she had her good points, like other people.</p>
+
+<p>Her hair was soft and brown, and there was a golden tinge
+in it that was greatly admired. There was also a depth and
+expression in her gray eyes that Geraldine lacked. But the
+charm of Audrey's face was her smile. It was no facial contortion,
+no mere lip service; it was a heart illumination&mdash;a
+sudden radiance that seemed to light up every feature, and
+which brought a certain lovely dimple into play.</p>
+
+<p>And there was one other thing noticeable in Audrey, and
+which brought the sisters into still sharper contrast. She was
+lamentably deficient in taste, and, though personally neat, was
+rather careless on the subject of dress. She liked an old gown
+better than a new one, was never quite sure which colour
+suited her best, and felt just as happy paying a round of calls
+in an old cambric as in the best tailor-made gown. It was on
+this subject that she and Geraldine differed most. No amount
+of spoken wisdom could make Audrey see that she was neglecting
+her opportunities to a culpable degree; that while other
+forms of eccentricity might be forgiven, the one unpardonable
+sin in Geraldine's code was Audrey's refusal to make the best
+of herself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">{11}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And you do look so nice when you are well dressed,' she
+observed with mournful affection on one occasion when Audrey
+had specially disappointed her. 'You have a beautiful figure&mdash;Madame
+Latouche said so herself&mdash;and yet you would wear
+that hideous gown Miss Sewell has made, and at Mrs. Charrington's
+"at home," too.'</p>
+
+<p>'How many people were affected by this sad occurrence?'
+asked Audrey scornfully. 'My dear Gage, your tone is truly
+tragical. Was it my clothes or me&mdash;poor little me!&mdash;that
+Mrs. Charrington invited and wanted to see? Do you know,
+Michael,' for that young man was present, 'I have such a
+grand idea for the future; a fashion to come in with Wagner's
+music, and &aelig;sthetics, and female lawyers&mdash;in fact, an advanced
+theory worthy of the nineteenth century. You know how
+people hate "at homes," and how bored they are, and how
+they grumble at the crush and the crowd.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I do believe they are hideous products of civilisation,'
+he returned with an air of candour.</p>
+
+<p>'Just so; well, now for my idea. Oh, I must send it to
+<i>Punch</i>, I really must. My proposition is that people should
+send their card by their lady's-maid, and also the toilette
+intended for that afternoon, to be inspected by the hostess.
+Can you not imagine the scene? First comes the announcement
+by the butler: "Lady Fitzmaurice's clothes." Enter
+smiling lady's-maid, bearing a wondrously braided skirt with
+plush mantle and bonnet with pheasant's wing. Hostess bows,
+smiles, and inspects garments through her eyeglasses. "Charming!
+everything Lady Fitzmaurice wears is in such perfect
+taste. My dear Cecilia, that bonnet would just suit me&mdash;make
+a note of it, please. My compliments to her ladyship."
+Now then for Mrs. Grenville, and so on. Crowds still, you
+see, but no hand-shaking, no confusion of voices; and then,
+the wonderful economy: no tea and coffee, no ices, no professional
+artistes, only a little refreshment perhaps in the servants'
+hall.'</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey, how can you talk such nonsense?' returned her
+sister severely.</p>
+
+<p>But Captain Burnett gave his low laugh of amusement.
+He revelled in the girl's odd speeches; he thought Audrey's
+nonsense worth more than all Geraldine's sense, he even
+enjoyed with a man's <i>insouciance</i> her daring disregard of
+conventionality.</p>
+
+<p>How difficult it is for a person thoroughly to know him or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">{12}</a></span>
+her self, unless he or she be morbidly addicted to incessant
+self-examination! Audrey thought that it was mere neighbourliness
+that induced her to call on the Blakes that afternoon;
+she had no idea that a strong curiosity made her wish to
+interview the new-comers.</p>
+
+<p>Rutherford was far too confined an area for a liberal mind
+like Audrey's. Her large and intense nature demanded fuller
+scope for its energies. With the exception of boys&mdash;who certainly
+preponderated in Rutherford&mdash;there were far too few
+human beings to satisfy Audrey. Every fresh face was therefore
+hailed by her with joy, and though perhaps she hardly
+went to Dr. Johnson's length when he complained that he
+considered that day lost on which he had not made a new
+acquaintance, still, her social instincts were not sufficiently
+nourished. The few people were busy people; they had a
+tiresome habit, too, of forming cliques, and in many ways they
+disappointed her. With her richer neighbours, especially
+among the Hill houses, Geraldine was the reigning favourite;
+Mrs. Charrington was devoted to her. Only little Mrs. Stanfield,
+of Rosendale, thought there was no one in the world like
+dear Audrey Ross.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey would not have mentioned her little scheme to her
+mother for worlds. Her mother was not a safe agent. She
+had long ago made Geraldine her conscience-keeper, but she
+had no objection to tell her father when she met him walking
+down the hill with his hands behind him, and evidently revolving
+his next Sunday's sermon.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross was rather a fine-looking man. He had grown
+gray early, and his near-sight obliged him to wear spectacles;
+but his keen, clever face, and the benevolent and kindly air
+that distinguished him, always attracted people to him. At
+times he was a little absent and whimsical; and those who
+knew them both well declared that Audrey had got all her
+original ideas and unconventional ways from the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>'Father, I am going to call on the Blakes,' she observed,
+as he was about to pass her as he would a stranger.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me, Audrey, how you startled me! I was deep in
+original sin, I believe. The Blakes? Oh, I told young
+Blake to come up to dinner to-night; I want Michael to see
+him. Very well. Give my respects to Mrs. Blake; and if
+there be any service we can render her, be sure you offer it;'
+and Dr. Ross walked on, quite unconscious that his daughter
+had retraced her steps, and was following him towards the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">{13}</a></span>
+town. 'For I won't disturb him with my chatter,' she
+thought, 'and I may as well go to Gage to-morrow; she is
+sure to keep me, and then it would be rather awkward if she
+should take it into her head to talk about the Blakes. She
+might want to go with me, or perhaps, which is more likely,
+she would make a fuss about my going so soon. If you want
+to do a thing, do it quickly, and without telling anyone, is my
+motto. Father is no one. If I were going to run away from
+home, or do anything equally ridiculous, I should be sure to
+tell father first; he would only recommend me to go first class,
+and be sure to take a cab at the other end, bless him!'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross walked on in a leisurely, thoughtful fashion, not
+too abstracted, however, to wave his hand slightly as knots of
+boys saluted him in passing. Audrey had a nod and smile for
+them all. At the Hill houses and at the school-house Geraldine
+might be the acknowledged favourite; but every boy in the
+upper and the lower school was Audrey's sworn adherent. She
+was their liege lady, for whom they were proud to do service;
+and more than one of the prefects cherished a tremulous passion
+for the Doctor's daughter together with his budding moustache,
+and, strange to say, was none the worse for the mild disease.</p>
+
+<p>A pleasant lane led from the Hill to the town, with sloping
+meadows on one side. It was a lovely afternoon in June, and
+groups of boys were racing down the field path on their way to
+the cricket ground. Audrey looked after them with a vivid
+interest. 'How happy they all look!' she said to herself. 'I
+do believe a boy&mdash;a real honest, healthy English boy&mdash;is one of
+the finest things in the creation. They are far happier than
+girls; they have more freedom, more zest, in their lives.
+If they work hard, they play well; every faculty of mind and
+body is trained to perfection. Look at Willie Darner running
+down that path! he is just crazy with the summer wind and
+the frolic of an afternoon's holiday. There is nothing to match
+with his enjoyment, unless it be a kitten sporting with the
+flying leaves, or a butterfly floating in the sunshine. He has
+not a care, that boy, except how he is to get over the ground
+fast enough.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had only a little bit of the town to traverse, but her
+progress was almost as slow and stately as a queen's. She had
+so many friends to greet, so many smiles and nods and how-d'ye-do's
+to execute; but at last she arrived at her destination.
+The Gray Cottage was a small stone house, placed between
+Dr. Ross's house and the school-house, with two windows overlooking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">{14}</a></span>
+the street. The living-rooms were at the back, and the
+view from them was far pleasanter, as Audrey well knew.
+From the drawing-room one looked down on the rugged court
+of the school-house, and on the gray old arches, through which
+one passed to the chapel and library. The quaint old buildings,
+with the stone fa&ccedil;ade, hoary with age, was the one feature of
+interest that always made Audrey think the Gray Cottage one
+of the pleasantest houses in Rutherford. Audrey knew every
+room. She had looked out on the old school-house often and
+often; she knew exactly how it looked in the moonlight, or on
+a winter's day when the snow lay on the ground, and the
+ruddy light of a December sunset tinged the windows and threw
+a halo over the old buildings. But she liked to see it best in
+the dim starlight, when all sorts of shadows seemed to lurk
+between the arches, and a strange, solemn light invested it with
+a legendary and imaginative interest.</p>
+
+<p>A heavy green gate shut off the Gray Cottage from the
+road. Audrey opened it, and walked up to the door, which
+had always stood open in the old days when her friends, the
+Powers, had lived there. It was open now; a profusion of
+packing-cases blocked up the spacious courtyard, and a black
+retriever was lying on some loose straw&mdash;evidently keeping
+watch and ward over them. He shook himself lazily as Audrey
+spoke to him, and then wagged his tail in a friendly fashion,
+and finally uttered a short bark of welcome.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey stooped down and stroked his glossy head. She
+always made friends with every animal&mdash;she had a large four-footed
+acquaintance with whom she was on excellent terms&mdash;from
+Jenny, the cobbler's donkey, down to Tim, the little white
+terrier that belonged to the sweep. She had just lost her own
+companion and follower, a splendid St. Bernard puppy, and
+had not yet replaced him. As she fondled the dog, she heard
+a slight sound near her, and, looking up, met the inquiring
+gaze of a pair of wide-open brown eyes. They belonged to a
+girl of fourteen, a slight, thin slip of a girl in a shabby dress
+that she had outgrown, and thick dark hair tied loosely with a
+ribbon, and falling in a wavy mass over her shoulders, and a
+small sallow face, looking at the present moment very shy and
+uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>'If you please,' she began timidly, and twisting her hands
+awkwardly as she spoke, 'mamma is very tired and has gone to
+lie down. We only moved in yesterday, and the place is in
+such a muddle.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">{15}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Of course it is in a muddle,' replied Audrey in her
+pleasant, easy fashion. 'That is exactly why I called&mdash;to see
+if I could be of any assistance. I am Miss Ross, from the
+lower school&mdash;will you let me come in and speak to you? You
+are Miss Blake, are you not?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I am Mollie,' returned the girl, reddening and
+looking still more uncomfortable. 'I am very sorry, Miss
+Ross&mdash;and it is very good of you to call so soon&mdash;but there is
+no place fit to ask you to sit down. Biddy is such a bad
+manager. She ought to have got things far more comfortable
+for us, but she is old&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Mollie, where am I to find the teapot?' called out a
+voice belonging to some invisible body&mdash;a voice with the unmistakable
+brogue. 'There's the mistress just dying for a cup
+of tea, and how will I be giving it to her without the teapot?
+and it may be in any of those dozen hampers&mdash;bad luck
+to it!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am coming, Biddy,' sighed the girl wearily, and the flush
+of annoyance deepened in her cheek.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow, that tired young face, burdened with some
+secret care, appealed to Audrey's quick sympathies. She put
+out her hand and gave her a light push as she stood blocking
+up the entry.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, I will help you look for the teapot,' she said in
+the kindest voice possible. 'You are just tired to death, and
+of course it is natural that your mother should want her
+tea. If we cannot find it, I will run round and borrow one
+from the Wrights. Everyone knows what moving is&mdash;one has
+to undergo all sorts of discomforts. Let me put down my sunshade
+and lace scarf, and then you will see how useful I can
+be'; and Audrey walked into the house, leaving Mollie tongue-tied
+with astonishment, and marched into the dining-room,
+which certainly looked a chaos&mdash;with dusty chairs, tables, half-emptied
+hampers, books, pictures, all jumbled up together with
+no sort of arrangement, just as the men had deposited them
+from the vans. Here, however, she paused, slightly taken
+aback by the sight of another dark head, which raised itself
+over the sofa-cushions, while another pair of brown eyes
+regarded her with equal astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>'It is only Kester,' whispered Mollie. 'I think he was
+asleep. Kester, Miss Ross kindly wishes to help us a little&mdash;but&mdash;did
+you ever see such a place?' speaking in a tone of
+disgust and shrugging her shoulders.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">{16}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Mollie can't be everywhere,' rejoined the boy, trying to
+drag himself off the sofa as he spoke, and then Audrey saw he
+was a cripple.</p>
+
+<p>He looked about fifteen, but his long, melancholy face had
+nothing boyish about it. The poor lad was evidently a chronic
+sufferer; there was a permanent look of ill-health stamped on
+his features, and the beautiful dark eyes had a plaintive look in
+them.</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie does her best,' he went on almost irritably; 'but she
+and Cyril have been busy upstairs getting up the beds and that
+sort of thing, so they could not turn their hand to all this lumber,'
+kicking over some books as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie is very young,' returned Audrey, feeling she must
+take them under her protection at once, and, as usual, acting on
+her impulse. 'Is your name Kester? What an uncommon
+name! but I like it somehow. I am so sorry to see you are an
+invalid, but you can get about a little on crutches?'</p>
+
+<p>'Sometimes, not always, when my hip is bad,' was the brief
+response.</p>
+
+<p>'Has it always been so?' in a pitying voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, ever since I was a little chap, and Cyril dropped me.
+I don't know how it happened; he was not very big, either.
+It is so long ago that I never remember feeling like other
+fellows'; and Kester sighed impatiently and kicked over some
+more books. 'There I go, upsetting everything; but there is
+no room to move. We had our dinner, such as it was, in the
+kitchen&mdash;not that I could eat it, eh, Mollie?'</p>
+
+<p>Mollie shook her head sadly.</p>
+
+<p>'You have not eaten a bit to-day. Cyril promised to bring
+in some buns for tea; but I daresay he will forget all about it.'</p>
+
+<p>A sudden thought struck Audrey: these two poor children
+did look so disconsolate. Mollie's tired face was quite dust-begrimed;
+she had been crying, too, probably with worry and
+over-fatigue, for the reddened eyelids betrayed her.</p>
+
+<p>'I have a bright idea,' she said in her pleasant, friendly way,
+'why should you not have tea in the garden? You have a nice
+little lawn, and it will not be too sunny near the house. If
+Biddy will only be good enough to boil the kettle I will run and
+fetch a teapot. It is no use hunting in those hampers, you are
+far too tired, Mollie. We will just lift out this little table. I
+see it has flaps, so it will be large enough; and if you can find
+a few teacups and plates, I will be back in a quarter of an hour
+with the other things.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">{17}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Audrey did not specify what other things she meant; she
+left that a pleasing mystery, to be unravelled by and by; she
+only waited to lift out the table, and then started off on her
+quest.</p>
+
+<p>The Wrights could not give her half she wanted; but Audrey
+in her own erratic fashion was a woman of resources: she made
+her way quickly to Woodcote, and entering it through the back
+premises, just as her sister was walking leisurely up to the front
+door, she went straight to the kitchen to make her raid.</p>
+
+<p>Cooper was evidently accustomed to her young mistress's
+eccentric demands. She fetched one article after another, as
+Audrey named them: a teapot, a clean cloth, a quarter of a
+pound of the best tea, a little tin of cream from the dairy, half
+a dozen new-laid eggs, a freshly-baked loaf hot from the oven,
+and some crisp, delicious-looking cakes, finally a pat of firm
+yellow butter; and with this last article Audrey pronounced
+herself satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>'You had better let Joe carry some of the things, Miss
+Audrey,' suggested Cooper, as she packed a large basket; 'he is
+round about somewhere.' And Audrey assented to this.</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine was just beginning her Blake story, and Mrs. Ross
+was listening to her with a troubled face, as Audrey, armed with
+the teapot, and followed by Joe with the basket, turned in again
+at the green gate of the Gray Cottage.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">{18}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BLAKE FAMILY AT HOME</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Her manner was warm, and even ardent; her sensibility seemed constitutionally
+deep; and some subtle fire of impassioned intellect apparently
+burnt within her.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">De Quincey.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>There was certainly a tinge of Bohemianism in Audrey's
+nature. She delighted in any short-cut that took her out of the
+beaten track. A sudden and unexpected pleasure was far more
+welcome to her than any festivity to which she was bidden
+beforehand.</p>
+
+<p>'I am very unlike Gage,' she said once to her usual confidant,
+Captain Burnett. 'No one would take us for sisters; even in
+our cradles we were dissimilar. Gage was a pattern baby, never
+cried for anything, and delighted everyone with her pretty ways;
+and I was always grabbing at father's spectacles with my podgy
+little fingers, and screaming for the carving-knife or any such
+incongruous thing. Do you know my first babyish name for
+father?'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe it was Daddy Glass-Eyes, was it not?' was the
+ready response, for somehow this young man had a strangely
+retentive memory, and seldom forgot anything that interested
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey laughed.</p>
+
+<p>'I had no idea you would have remembered that. How I
+loved to snatch off those spectacles! "You can't see me now,
+Daddy Glass-Eyes," I can hear myself saying that; "daddy
+can't see with only two eyes."'</p>
+
+<p>'You were a queer little being even then,' he returned,
+somewhat dryly. 'But I believe, as usual, we are wandering
+from our subject. You are a most erratic talker, Audrey.
+What made you burst out just now into this sisterly tirade?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, to be sure! I was contrasting myself with Gage; it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">{19}</a></span>
+always amuses me to do that. It only proceeded from a speech
+the Countess made this afternoon'; for in certain naughty
+moods Audrey would term her elder sister the Countess. 'She
+declared half the pleasure of a thing consisted in preparation
+and anticipation; but I disagree with her entirely. I like all my
+pleasures served up to me hot and spiced&mdash;without any flavour
+reaching me beforehand. That is why I am so charmed with
+the idea of surprise parties and impromptu picnics, and all that
+kind of thing.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt as though she were assisting at some such
+surprise party as she turned in at the green gate, and relieved
+Joe of the basket. Mollie came running round the side of the
+house to meet her. She had washed her face, and brushed out
+her tangled hair and tied it afresh.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, what have you there?' she asked in some little excitement.
+'Miss Ross, have you really carried all these things?
+The kettle is boiling, and I have some clean cups and saucers.
+Kester has been helping me. I think mamma is awake, for I
+heard her open her window just now.'</p>
+
+<p>'What a nice, intelligent face she has!' thought Audrey, as
+she unpacked her basket and displayed the hidden dainties
+before the girl's delighted eyes. 'I am sure I shall like Mollie.
+She is not a bit pretty&mdash;I daresay Gage and Michael would call
+her plain; but she has an honest look in her brown eyes.'
+'Mollie,' speaking aloud, 'if your mother has awakened from
+her nap, she will be quite ready for her tea. May I go into the
+kitchen a moment? I want Biddy to boil these eggs&mdash;they
+are new-laid; and perhaps you could find me a plate for the
+butter'; and as Mollie ran off Audrey turned coolly into the
+kitchen&mdash;a pleasant apartment, overlooking the street&mdash;where
+she found a little old woman, with a wrinkled face and dark,
+hawk-like eyes, standing by the hearth watching the boiling
+kettle.</p>
+
+<p>The kitchen was in the same state of chaos as the dining-room&mdash;the
+table covered with unwashed dishes, and crates half
+unpacked littering the floor. It was evident Biddy was no
+manager. As she stood there in her dirty cotton gown, with
+her thin gray hair twisted into a rough knot, and a black
+handkerchief tied loosely over her head, she was the image of
+Fairy Disorder; her bent little figure and the blackened poker
+in her hand carried out the resemblance, as she looked up with
+her bright, peering eyes at the tall young lady who confronted
+her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">{20}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Do you think I could find a saucepan, Biddy?'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose there is one about somewhere,' was the encouraging
+answer. 'Perhaps Miss Mollie will be knowing; she boiled
+some potatoes for dinner.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean this?' regarding the article with some disfavour.
+'Would it trouble you very much to wash it while I
+make the tea? I have some nice fresh eggs, which I think they
+will all enjoy.'</p>
+
+<p>But Biddy only returned a snapping answer that was somewhat
+unintelligible, and carried out the saucepan with rather a
+sour face.</p>
+
+<p>'Disagreeable old thing!' thought Audrey, as she made the
+tea, but she afterwards retracted this hasty judgment.</p>
+
+<p>Biddy was a bad manager, certainly, but she was not without
+her virtues. She was faithful, and would slave herself to
+death for those she loved; but she was old for work, and the
+'ache,' as she called it, had got into her bones. She had slept
+on the floor for two nights, and her poor old back was tired,
+and her head muddled with the confusion and her mistress's
+fretful fussiness. Biddy could have worked well if any one had
+told her exactly what to do, but between one order and another&mdash;between
+Mr. Cyril's impatience and Miss Mollie's incapable,
+youthful zeal&mdash;she was just 'moithered,' as she would have
+said herself.</p>
+
+<p>She brought back the saucepan after a minute, and Audrey
+boiled the eggs. As she looked down at the hissing, bubbling
+water, an amused smile stole over her features.</p>
+
+<p>'If only Gage could see me now!' she thought; and then
+Mollie came in and rummaged in a big basket for teaspoons.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey carried out her teapot in triumph. Mollie had done
+her work well and tastefully: the snowy cloth was on the
+table; there were cups and saucers and plates; the butter was
+ornamented with green leaves, the cakes were in a china basket.
+Kester was dusting some chairs.</p>
+
+<p>'Doesn't it look nice!' exclaimed Mollie, quite forgetting
+her shyness. 'How I wish Cyril would come in! He does
+so love things to be nice&mdash;he and Kester are so particular.
+Mamma!' glancing up at a window above them, 'won't you
+please to hurry down? May I sit there, Miss Ross? I always
+pour out the tea, because mamma does not like the trouble,
+and Kester always sits next to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is your mother an invalid, my dear?' asked Audrey, feeling
+that this must be the case.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">{21}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Mamma? Oh no! She has a headache sometimes, but so
+do I&mdash;and Cyril often says the same. I think mamma is
+strong, really. She can take long walks, and she often sits up
+late reading or talking to Cyril; but it tries her to do things
+in the house, she has never been accustomed to it, and putting
+things to rights in Cyril's room has quite knocked her up.'</p>
+
+<p>'What are you talking about, you little chatterbox?'
+interrupted a gay, good-humoured voice; and Audrey, turning
+round, saw a lady in black coming quickly towards them: the
+next moment two hands were held out in very friendly fashion.
+'I need not ask who our kind visitor is,' went on Mrs. Blake.
+'I know it must be Miss Ross&mdash;no one else could have heard
+of our arrival. Have you ever experienced the delights of a
+move? I think I have never passed a more miserable four-and-twenty
+hours. I am utterly done up, as I daresay my little
+girl has told you; but the sight of that delicious tea-table is a
+restorative in itself. I had no idea Rutherford held such kind
+neighbours. Mollie, I hope you have thanked Miss Ross for
+her goodness. Dear me, what a figure the child looks!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, mamma,' replied Mollie, with a return of her shyness;
+and she slunk behind the tea-tray.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had apparently no answer ready. The oddest idea
+had come into her mind: Supposing Michael were to fall in love
+with Mrs. Blake? He was a great admirer of beauty, though
+he was a little fastidious on the subject, and certainly, with the
+exception of Geraldine, Audrey thought she had never seen a
+handsomer woman.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake's beauty was certainly of no ordinary type: her
+features were small and delicate, and her face had the fine oval
+that one sees in the portraits of Mary Queen of Scots; her
+complexion was pale and somewhat creamy in tint, and set
+off the dark hazel eyes and dark smooth coils of hair to perfection.</p>
+
+<p>The long black dress and widow-like collar and cuffs suited
+the tall, graceful figure; and as Audrey noticed the quick
+changes of expression, the bright smile, and listened to the
+smooth, harmonious voice, she thought that never before had
+she seen so fascinating a woman.</p>
+
+<p>'Gage will rave about her,' was her mental critique. 'She
+will say at once that she has never seen a more lady-like person&mdash;"lady-like,"
+that is Gage's favourite expression. And as to
+Michael&mdash;well, it is never Michael's way to rave; but he will
+certainly take a great deal of pleasure in looking at Mrs. Blake.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">{22}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Will you sit by me, Miss Ross?' asked her hostess in a
+winning voice; and Audrey woke up from her abstraction,
+colouring and smiling.</p>
+
+<p>'I have taken a great liberty with your house,' she said,
+feeling for the first time as though some apology were due; for
+the queenly beneficence of Mrs. Blake's manner seemed to imply
+some condescension on her part in accepting such favours. 'I
+called to see if you needed any assistance from a neighbour, and
+I found poor Mollie looking so tired and perplexed that I stayed
+to help her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie does her best,' replied Mrs. Blake gently; 'but she
+is a sad manager, and so is Biddy. They nearly worry me to
+death between them. If they put a thing straight, it is sure
+to be crooked again the next moment.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure Mollie works hard enough,' grumbled Kester;
+but his mother did not appear to hear him.</p>
+
+<p>'I am a wretched manager myself,' she went on. 'If it were
+not for Cyril, I do not know what would become of us. Poor
+Kester is no use to anyone. Would you believe it, Miss Ross,
+that, when we arrived last night, not a bedstead was up? That
+was Biddy's fault; she forgot to remind the men. We all
+slept on the floor except Kester. Cyril would put up his bed
+for him, though I told him that just for once, and on a summer's
+night, it would not hurt him.'</p>
+
+<p>Mollie and Kester glanced at each other; and then Kester
+bit his lip, and looked down at his plate.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, mamma,' began Mollie eagerly; but Mrs. Blake gave
+her a quick, reproving look.</p>
+
+<p>'Please don't interrupt, Mollie. I want Miss Ross to understand;
+she must be quite shocked to see such confusion. Cyril
+said this morning we should be all ill if we passed another night
+in that way; so he and Biddy have been putting up the beds,
+and getting the upstairs rooms in order, and Mollie was sent
+down to make the dining-room a little tidy.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, mamma&mdash;&mdash;' pleaded Molly, turning very red.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear little girl,' observed her mother sweetly, 'Miss
+Ross can see for herself the room has not been touched.'</p>
+
+<p>'Because Kester was asleep, and Cyril told me I must not
+wake him,' persisted Molly, looking ready to cry again; 'and
+whenever I began, either you or Cyril called me;' and here,
+though Mollie dashed away a tear bravely, another followed,
+and would splash down on her frock, for the poor little soul
+was tired and dispirited, and Miss Ross would think she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">{23}</a></span>
+been idle, instead of having worked like a slave since early
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't be a goose, Mollie!' retorted Mrs. Blake, with the
+ready good-humour that seemed natural to her; 'you are too
+old to cry at a word. Miss Ross, may I have one of those
+delicious cakes? I shall feel a different woman after my tea.
+Children, what can have become of your brother? I thought
+he was only going out for half an hour.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is to dine at Woodcote to-night, I believe, Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; Dr. Ross kindly asked him this morning. I must
+not begin to talk about Cyril; that must be a tabooed subject.
+Of course, a mother has a right to be proud of her son&mdash;and
+such a son, too!&mdash;but it is not necessary for her to bore other
+people. If you were to ask me'&mdash;with a low laugh of amusement
+at her own expense&mdash;'if I thought any other mother's son
+could be as handsome and clever and affectionate as my Cyril,
+I should probably say no; but I will be prudent for once: I
+will not try to prejudice you in his favour. Cyril shall stand
+on his own merits to-night; he will not need his mother's
+recommendation.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake made this speech with such a pretty air of
+assurance, such a conviction that there was something pardonable
+in her egotism, with such winning frankness, that Audrey forgave
+the thoughtless insinuation against poor overtasked Mollie. It
+was evident that Mrs. Blake idolised her eldest son; her eyes
+softened as she mentioned his name.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, there is his step!' she added hastily. 'No one walks
+in the same way as Cyril does; isn't it a light, springy tread?
+But,' checking herself with another laugh, 'I must really hold
+my tongue, or you will think me a very silly woman.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; I like you all the better for it,' replied Audrey bluntly.
+She had no time to say more, for a gay whistle heralded the
+new-comer; and the next moment a young man vaulted lightly
+over the low window-sill.</p>
+
+<p>He seemed a little taken aback at the sight of a stranger,
+shook hands rather gravely with Audrey, and then sat down
+silently beside his mother.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey's first thought was that Mrs. Blake had not said a
+word too much. Cyril Blake was certainly a very striking-looking
+young man. 'He is like his mother,' she said to herself;
+'he is as handsome in his way as she is in hers. There is
+something foreign in his complexion, and in those very dark eyes;
+it looks as though there were Spanish or Italian blood in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">{24}</a></span>
+veins. She hardly looks old enough to be his mother. Father
+said he was two-and-twenty. What an interesting family they
+seem! I am sure I shall see a great deal of them.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril was a little silent at first. He was afflicted with the
+Englishman's <i>mauvaise honte</i> with strangers, and was a little
+young for his age, in spite of his cleverness. But Mrs. Blake
+was not disposed to leave him in quiet. She knew that he
+could talk fluently enough when his tongue was once loosened;
+so she proceeded to tell him of Audrey's neighbourly kindness,
+treating it with an airy grace; and, of course, Cyril responded
+with a brief compliment or two. She then drew him out by
+skilful questions on Rutherford and its inhabitants, to which
+Audrey duly replied.</p>
+
+<p>'And you like the place, Miss Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, of course one likes the place where one lives,' she
+returned brightly. 'I was only a little girl when father came
+to Woodcote, so all my happiest associations are with Rutherford.
+I grumble sometimes because the town is so small and there are
+not enough human beings.'</p>
+
+<p>'There are over three hundred boys, are there not?' asked
+Cyril, looking up quickly.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, boys! I was not thinking of them. Yes, there are
+more than three hundred. I delight in boys, but one wants
+men and women as well. We have too few types. There are
+the masters and the masters' wives, and the doctors and the
+vicar, and a curate or two, but that is all. A public school is
+nice, but its society is limited.'</p>
+
+<p>'Limited, but choice.'</p>
+
+<p>'Decidedly choice. Now, in my opinion, people ought not
+to be too exclusive. I am sociable by nature. "The world
+forgetting, by the world forgot" is not to my mind. I like
+variety even in character.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think we are kindred spirits, my dear Miss Ross. How
+often have you heard me say the same thing, Cyril! That is
+why I took such a dislike to Headingly&mdash;the people there were
+so terribly exclusive and purse-proud.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not purse-proud, mother. You are wrong there.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, they were very stiff and inhospitable; there was no
+getting on with them at all. I think the Bryces were the
+worst. Mrs. Bryce is the proudest woman I know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mother,' observed Cyril warningly, 'it is never safe to
+mention names. I think&mdash;that is, I am sure I have heard that
+Mrs. Bryce is a connection of Miss Ross.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">{25}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I hope not!' in an alarmed voice. 'Do&mdash;do forgive
+me my very plain speaking.'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no harm done,' returned Audrey lightly. 'Mrs.
+Bryce is only a connection of my sister's by marriage. She is
+Mr. Harcourt's sister. I am afraid I sympathise with you
+there. I have no special liking for Mrs. Bryce myself; she is
+clever, an excellent manager, but she is a little too proper&mdash;too
+fond of laying down the law for my taste.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I am so glad!' clapping her hands. 'Cyril is always
+keeping me in order; he is so afraid what I may say next.'</p>
+
+<p>'You certainly are a most incautious person, mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'See how my children keep me in order,' with an air of
+much humility. 'Mrs. Harcourt is your sister, and lives at
+Rutherford. I do hope she is like you, Miss Ross.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed,' shaking her head and laughing. 'We are
+very different persons. Geraldine is far better than I am.
+She is exceedingly clever, most accomplished, and so handsome
+that everyone falls in love with her at first sight. She is quite
+a little queen here, and no one disputes her sway.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake gave an eloquent shrug, but she did not venture
+on a more direct answer; and Audrey sat and smiled to herself
+as she thought that Geraldine and Edith Bryce were
+certainly pattern women.</p>
+
+<p>How pleasant it all was! Audrey had never enjoyed herself
+more; she was making herself quite at home with these Blakes.
+But surely there was no need to hurry home; Gage was with
+her mother. She might indulge herself a little longer. She
+longed to talk more to Kester and Mollie, but she found it
+impossible to draw them into the conversation. They sat quite
+silent, only every now and then Audrey's quick eyes saw an
+intelligent look flash between them&mdash;a sort of telegraphic
+communication.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope those two poor children are not left out in the cold,'
+she thought uneasily. 'Their brother does not seem to notice
+them; he and his mother are wrapped up in each other. It is
+hardly fair.'</p>
+
+<p>Again Audrey was forming a hasty judgment.</p>
+
+<p>'The country is not very pretty, is it?' asked Cyril at this
+moment, and she woke up from her reverie.</p>
+
+<p>'It is a little flat, but it has its good points; it is a splendid
+hunting country, as you know. Oh yes, I think it pretty.
+There are nice walks. I am very partial to the grass lanes we
+have about here. In fine weather they are delicious.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">{26}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And you are a good walker?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes. I am strong, and there is nothing I enjoy so
+much. One is such splendid company for one's self. Leo and
+I used to have such expeditions! Leo was a St. Bernard
+puppy, only he died three weeks ago of distemper. I cannot
+bear to speak of him yet. He was my playfellow, and so
+handsome and intelligent! My cousin, Captain Burnett, has
+promised to find me another dog. He has a Dachs-hund himself&mdash;such
+a loving, faithful little creature. He is obliged to
+take Booty wherever he goes, or the poor thing would fret
+himself to skin and bone. Is that retriever your special
+property?' and Audrey looked at Cyril as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'No; he belongs to Kester,' he returned carelessly. Then,
+with a quick change of tone: 'Are you tired, old fellow?
+Would you like me to help you indoors?' and, as Kester
+languidly assented, he picked up his crutches, and taking
+possession of one, substituted his arm, while Mollie ran before
+them with a couple of cushions.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake looked after them, and a cloud came over her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>'Is it not sad?' she said, in a melancholy tone. 'That
+poor boy&mdash;he will be a drag on Cyril all his life. He will
+never be able to gain his own living. He is fifteen now.'</p>
+
+<p>'It was the result of an accident, was it not?'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey regretted her abrupt question, as a troubled
+expression came into the mother's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Who told you that?' she asked impatiently. 'Of course
+it was Mollie. She is a sad chatterbox. And I suppose she
+mentioned, too, that it was Cyril's fault?'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed it was not Mollie,' returned Audrey eagerly.
+'Kester spoke of it himself. He did not enter into particulars.
+He just said his brother had let him fall when he was a child.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it was a sad business,' with a sigh. 'I wonder if
+anyone has ever had so many troubles as I have. Life has
+been one long struggle to me, Miss Ross. But for Cyril I
+should have succumbed again and again. No widowed mother
+has ever been more blessed in a son;' then, dropping her
+voice: 'Please do not mention the subject before Cyril; he is
+dreadfully sore about it. It was a pure accident: they were
+all lads together, and he and his schoolfellows were racing each
+other. I think they were steeplechasing, and he had Kester
+on his back. There was a fence and a stony ditch, and the
+foolish child tried to clear it; they might both have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">{27}</a></span>
+killed, it was such a nasty place, but Kester was the only one
+hurt. He was always a delicate little fellow, and hip-disease
+came on. He does not suffer so much now, but he will always
+be a cripple, and he has bad times now and then. Cyril is so
+good to him; he has never forgiven himself for the accident.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can understand that,' returned Audrey in a moved voice;
+and then Cyril came back and she rose to go. 'I shall see
+you again,' she said smiling, as he accompanied her to the gate.
+'I hear my father has asked you up to Woodcote this evening
+to meet the Harcourts.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' he returned briefly, looking as though the prospect
+were a formidable one. 'I could not very well refuse Dr.
+Ross under the circumstances.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you wish to refuse?' rather mischievously.</p>
+
+<p>'No, of course not,' but smiling too; 'I feel as though it
+were a neglect of duty. Look at the muddle in there! and
+those poor children. I have been working like a horse to-day,
+but there was too much to do upstairs; I left the living-rooms
+for this evening.'</p>
+
+<p>'You can work all the harder to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>'To-morrow I have to begin lessons. I suppose the muddle
+must just go on, and we must live as we can. Biddy is old
+and worn out, and Mollie is too young to direct her.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will come round and help her,' was Audrey's impulsive
+answer. 'This is just the sort of thing I love. I do so enjoy
+putting a place to rights.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Miss Ross, we have no right to trespass on your kindness,'
+replied Cyril, flushing slightly as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey only smiled and showed her dimple.</p>
+
+<p>'Tell Mollie I shall come,' was her only answer. '<i>Au
+revoir</i>, Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>And Audrey walked on rapidly to Woodcote, feeling that
+she had spent a very amusing afternoon, and quite unaware of
+the commotion she would raise in her mother's and sister's
+breasts by those few innocently spoken words, 'I have been
+having tea at the Blakes'.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">{28}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>MICHAEL</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'And when God found in the hollow of His hand</div>
+<div class="verse">This ball of Earth among His other balls,</div>
+<div class="verse">And set it in His shining firmament,</div>
+<div class="verse">Between the greater and the lesser lights,</div>
+<div class="verse">He chose it for the Star of Suffering.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Ugo Bassi.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>It is better to draw a veil over the scene that followed Audrey's
+abrupt announcement. As Captain Burnett said afterwards,
+'Geraldine's attitude was superb; she was grand, absolutely
+grand.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross was, as usual, a little plaintive.</p>
+
+<p>'If you had only mentioned where you were going, Audrey,'
+she said quietly; 'but you are so impulsive, my dear.
+Geraldine would have accompanied you with pleasure a little
+later, and you could have left my card, and a civil message for
+Mrs. Blake; that would have been far nicer, would it not, my
+love?' with an appealing look at her young adviser.</p>
+
+<p>'You can send the message by Mr. Blake this evening,'
+replied Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>She never argued with her mother if she could possibly help
+it. In the first place, it was not filial, and in the second, it
+was perfectly useless, as there was always a mental reservation
+in Mrs. Ross's mind, and she could seldom be induced to decide
+any question without reference to Geraldine.</p>
+
+<p>'I think father might have consulted Percival before he
+asked another guest,' observed Mrs. Harcourt in rather a
+dubious tone, for she was exceedingly jealous of her husband's
+dignity. 'Percival was told that we were to be quite alone.
+I was not going home to change my dress. But if this young
+man be invited&mdash;&mdash;'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">{29}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'My darling,' interrupted her mother, 'you must not think
+of walking back all that way&mdash;that gown is lovely, is it not,
+Audrey?&mdash;and one more person does not signify. No doubt
+your father was anxious that Percival should see Mr. Blake and
+give him his opinion; he thinks so much of Percival's judgment,
+does he not, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>Now here was the opportunity for a douceur, for a
+nicely-adjusted compliment, to smooth her sister's ruffled
+brow; but Audrey was far too blunt and truthful for such
+finesse.</p>
+
+<p>'Father told me that he wanted Michael to see Mr. Blake&mdash;I
+don't believe he was thinking of Percival&mdash;because of
+course the lower school has nothing to do with Hillside.
+There is not the least need of changing your gown, Gage,
+for of course we are only a family party. Will you come
+up with me to my room now, or will you go with mother
+presently?'</p>
+
+<p>'I will come with you,' returned Mrs. Harcourt.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was inclined to be contumacious, but she would not
+yield the matter so meekly. Audrey was always more contradictory
+when Michael was in the background; they seemed to
+play into each other's hand somehow, and more than once
+Geraldine was positive she had heard a softly-uttered 'Bravo!'
+at some of Audrey's ridiculous speeches.</p>
+
+<p>'Come along, then,' returned Audrey good-humouredly; and
+as they left the room together, Captain Burnett laid down his
+book.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid she is going to catch it, Cousin Emmeline; it
+will be a case of survival of the fittest&mdash;Geraldine is strong,
+but Audrey can hold her own. I back Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear,' remonstrated Mrs. Ross, as she put away her
+knitting, 'you talk as though my girls were likely to quarrel.
+Geraldine is far too sweet-tempered to quarrel with anyone;
+she will only give Audrey a little advice&mdash;dear Audrey is
+dreadfully careless, she takes after her father in that; John is
+always doing imprudent things. Geraldine has made me most
+uncomfortable this afternoon; I am quite sure that Mrs. Blake
+will be an undesirable friend for Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you always see through other people's spectacles?' he
+asked quietly. 'I have a habit of judging things for myself&mdash;I
+never take anything second-hand; it is such an unpleasant
+idea, airing other people's opinions. Fancy a sensible human
+being turning himself into a sort of peg or receptacle for other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">{30}</a></span>
+folks' theories! No, thank you, my dear cousin; my opinions
+are all stamped with "Michael Burnett, his mark."'</p>
+
+<p>'Men are different,' she replied tranquilly; and then she
+left him to go in search of her husband.</p>
+
+<p>'What a world we live in, Booty!' observed Captain
+Burnett, as he walked to the window and his four-footed
+favourite followed him. 'Oh, you want a run, do you?' as
+the little animal looked at him wistfully. 'You think your
+master uncommonly lazy this afternoon&mdash;you don't happen to
+have a pain in your leg, do you, old fellow&mdash;a nasty gnawing,
+grumbling sort of pain?&mdash;there is nothing like neuralgia for
+making a man lazy. Well, I'll make an effort to oblige you,
+my friend&mdash;so off you go'; and Captain Burnett threw a stone,
+and there was a delighted bark and an excited patter of the
+short legs, and Booty vanished round a corner, while his master
+followed him more slowly.</p>
+
+<p>The garden of Woodcote was the best in Rutherford; even
+the Hill houses could not compete with it: an extensive lawn
+lay before the house, with a shrubbery on one side, and the
+trees and shrubs were exceedingly rare; a little below the
+house the ground sloped rather steeply, and a succession of
+terraces and flower-beds led down to a miniature lake with a
+tiny island; here there were some swans and a punt, and the
+tall trees that bordered the water were the favourite haunt of
+blackbirds and thrushes.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Burnett sat down on a bench facing the water, and
+Booty stood and barked at the swans. How sweet and peaceful
+everything looked this evening! The water was golden in the
+evening sunshine; a blue tit was flashing from one tree to
+another; some thrushes were singing a melodious duet; the
+swans arched their snowy necks and looked proudly at him;
+some children's voices were audible in the distance. There was
+a thoughtful expression in Captain Burnett's eyes, a concentrated
+melancholy that was often there when he found himself
+utterly alone.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Burnett had one confidant&mdash;his cousin John. Not
+that he often called him by that name, their ages were too dissimilar
+to permit such easy familiarity; but he had once owned
+to Dr. Ross, to the man who loved him as a father, that his life
+had been a failure.</p>
+
+<p>'Only a failure in the sense that you are no longer fit for
+active duty,' had been the reply. 'You must not forget the
+Victoria Cross, Michael.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">{31}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that was nothing; any other man would have done the
+same in my place,' Michael had retorted with some heat, for he
+hated to be reminded of his good deeds.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps he was right: hundreds of brave young Englishmen
+would have acted in the same way had they been placed in the
+same circumstances. The English army is full of heroes, thank
+God! Nevertheless, Michael Burnett had earned his Victoria
+Cross dearly.</p>
+
+<p>It was in one of the Zulu skirmishes. A detachment of the
+enemy had surprised them at night; but the little handful of
+men had repulsed them bravely. Captain Burnett knew help
+was at hand; they had only to hold out until a larger contingent
+should join them. He hoped things were going well. They
+had just driven the Zulus backwards, when, in the dim light of
+the flickering watch-fires, he saw dusky figures moving in the
+direction of a hut where a few sick and wounded men had been
+placed. There was not a second to lose; in another moment
+the poor fellows would have been butchered. Calling out to
+some of his men to follow him, and not perceiving that he was
+alone, he tore through the scrub, and entered the hut by a hole
+that served as a window. Michael once owned that he fought
+like a demon that night; but the thought of the few helpless
+wretches writhing in terror on their pallet beds behind him
+seemed to give him the force of ten men. 'They shall pass
+only over my body! God save my poor fellows!' was his
+inward cry, as he blocked up the narrow doorway and struck at
+his dusky foes like a madman.</p>
+
+<p>More than one poor lad lived to look back on that day, and
+to bless their gallant deliverer. 'No one else could have done it,
+sir,' observed one of them; 'but the Captain never knew how
+to give in. I was watching them, and I thought the devils
+would have finished him. He staggered back once, and Bob
+Jaggers gave a groan, for we thought it was all up with us;
+and though I would have made shift to fight before I would be
+killed like a rat in a hole, one could not do much with a
+broken arm. When our men rushed in, he was pretty nearly
+finished; one of the savages had him by the knees. Of course
+they gave him the Cross. For the matter of that, he ought to
+have had it before.</p>
+
+<p>'Did you ever hear how he saved little Tom Blatchley's life?
+Well, I will tell you'; and hereupon followed one of those
+touching incidents which are so frequent, and which gild with
+glory even the bloody annals of war.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">{32}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Yes, they gave him the Victoria Cross; but as he lay on his
+bed of suffering, disabled by cruel wounds, Michael knew that
+he had won it at the expense of all that men count dear.
+'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his
+life for his friends.' There were times when, in his anguish,
+Michael could have prayed that his life&mdash;his useless, broken
+life&mdash;might have been taken too. How gladly, how thankfully
+would he have yielded it! how willingly would he have turned
+his face to the wall, and ended the conflict, sooner than endure
+the far bitterer ordeal that lay before him! for he was young,
+and he knew his career was ended, and that, brave soldier as he
+was, he could no longer follow the profession that he loved. It
+was doubtful for a long time how far he would recover from the
+effects of that terrible night; his wounds were long in healing.
+The principal injuries were in the head and thigh. One or two
+of his physicians feared that he would never walk again; the
+limb seemed to contract, and neuralgic pains made his life a
+misery. To add to his troubles, his nerves were seriously
+affected, and though he was no coward, depression held him at
+times in its fell grip, and mocked him with delusive pictures of
+other men's happiness. Like Bunyan's poor tempted Christian,
+he, too, at times espied a foul fiend coming over the field to
+meet him, and had to wage a deadly combat with many a doubt
+and hard, despairing thought. 'You are a wreck, Michael
+Burnett!' the grim tempter seemed to say to him. 'Better be
+quit of it all! Before you are thirty your work is over; what
+will you do with the remainder of your life? You are poor&mdash;perhaps
+crippled; no woman will look at you. You have your
+Cross&mdash;a little bit of rusty iron&mdash;but does such empty glory
+avail? You have aches and pains in plenty; your future looks
+promising, my fine fellow! A hero! In truth those ten
+minutes have cost you dearly! no wonder you repent of your
+rash gallantry!'</p>
+
+<p>'I repent of nothing,' Michael would rejoin, in that dumb
+inward argument so often renewed. 'If it were to come over
+again, I would do just the same. "Greater love hath no man
+than this";' for in his semi-delirious hours those Divine words
+seemed to set themselves to solemn music, and to echo in his
+brain with ceaseless repetition. 'A life given, a life laid down,
+a life spent in suffering&mdash;is it not all the same&mdash;a soldier's
+duty? Shall I shirk my fate? Would it not be better to
+bear it like a man?' and Michael would set his teeth hard,
+and with an inward prayer for patience&mdash;for in the struggle the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">{33}</a></span>
+man was learning to pray&mdash;girded himself up again to the daily
+fight.</p>
+
+<p>Once, when there had been a fresh outbreak of mischief, and
+they had brought him down to Woodcote, that he might be
+more carefully nursed than in the town lodgings which was all
+Michael Burnett called home, Audrey, who, after her usual
+pitiful fashion, wore herself out in her efforts to soothe and
+comfort the invalid, once read to him some beautiful lines out
+of a poem entitled 'The Disciples.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael, who was in one of his dark moods, made no
+comment on the passage which she had read in a trembling voice
+of deep feeling; but when she left the room on some errand, he
+stretched out his hand, and read it over again:</p>
+
+<table summary="poem">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'But if, impatient, thou let slip thy cross,</div>
+<div class="verse">Thou wilt not find it in this world again,</div>
+<div class="verse">Nor in another; here, and here alone,</div>
+<div class="verse">Is given thee to suffer for God's sake.'</div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>When Audrey returned the book was in its place, and
+Michael was lying with his eyes closed, and the frown of pain
+still knitting his temples. He was not asleep, but she dare
+not disturb him by offering to go on with the poem. She sat
+down at a little distance and looked out of the window, rather
+sorrowfully. How strong she was! how full of health and
+enjoyment! and this poor Michael, who had acted so nobly&mdash;&mdash;Audrey's
+eyes were full of tears. And all the time Michael
+was saying to himself, 'After all, I am a coward. What if I
+must suffer? Life will not last for ever.'</p>
+
+<p>By and by Michael owned that even his hard lot had compensations.
+He became used to his semi-invalid existence.
+Active work of any sort was impossible&mdash;that is, continuous
+work. He had tried it when his friends had found an easy
+post for him, and had been obliged to give it up. He still
+suffered severely from neuralgic headaches that left him worn
+and exhausted. His maimed leg often troubled him; he could
+not walk far, and riding was impossible.</p>
+
+<p>'You must make up your mind to be an idle man&mdash;at
+least, for the present, Captain Burnett,' one of his doctors had
+said to him, and Michael had languidly acquiesced. To be a
+soldier had been his one ambition, and he cared for little else.
+He had enough to keep him in moderate comfort as a bachelor,
+and he had faint expectations from an uncle who lived in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">{34}</a></span>
+Calcutta; but when questioned on this point, Michael owned
+he was not sanguine.</p>
+
+<p>'My Uncle Selkirk is by no means an old man,' he would
+say. 'Any insurance office would consider his the better life
+of the two. Besides, he might marry&mdash;he is not sixty yet;
+even old men make fools of themselves by taking young wives.
+It is ill waiting for dead men's shoes at the best of times. In
+this case it would be rank stupidity.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you will never be able to marry, Michael;' for it
+was to Mrs. Ross that this last speech was addressed.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear cousin, do you think any girl would look at a
+sickly, ill-tempered fellow like me?' was the somewhat bitter
+reply; and Mrs. Ross's kind heart was troubled at the
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>'You should not call yourself names, my dear. You are
+not ill-tempered. No one minds a little crossness now and
+then. Even John can say a sharp word when he is put out.
+I think you are wrong, Michael. You are rather morbid on
+this point. They say pity is akin to love.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I object to be pitied,' he returned somewhat haughtily;
+'and what is more, I will commend myself to no woman's
+toleration. I will not be dominated by any weaker vessel. If
+I should ever have the happiness of having a wife&mdash;but there
+will be no Mrs. Michael Burnett, Cousin Emmeline&mdash;I should
+love her as well as other men love their wives, but I should
+distinctly insist on her keeping her proper place. Just
+imagine'&mdash;working himself up to nervous irritation&mdash;'being
+at the mercy of some healthy, high-spirited young creature,
+who will insult me every day with her overplus of pure animal
+enjoyment. The effect on me would be crushing&mdash;absolutely
+crushing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey is very high-spirited, Michael, but I am sure she
+sympathises with you as nicely as possible.'</p>
+
+<p>'We were not speaking of Audrey, were we?' he replied,
+with a slight change of expression. 'I think it is the Ross
+idiosyncrasy to wander hopelessly from any given subject; I
+imagined that we were suggesting an impossible wife for your
+humble servant. Far be it from me to deny myself comfort in
+the shape of feminine cousins or friends.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, of course; and Geraldine and Audrey are just like
+your sisters, Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are they?' a little dryly. 'Well, as I never had a sister,
+I cannot be a good judge; but from what other fellows tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">{35}</a></span>
+me, I imagine Audrey bullies me enough to be one. Anyhow,
+I take the brotherly prerogative of bullying her in return.'</p>
+
+<p>And with this remarkable statement the conversation
+dropped.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Burnett spent half his time with his cousins,
+oscillating between Woodcote and his lodgings in town. Dr.
+Ross wished him to live with them entirely; he had a great
+respect and affection for his young kinsman, and, as he often
+told his wife, Michael helped him in a hundred ways.</p>
+
+<p>'He has the clearest head and the best common-sense I
+ever knew in any man. I would trust Mike's judgment before
+my own. Poor fellow! he has gone through so much himself,
+that I think he sees deeper into things than most people. It
+is wonderful what knowledge of character he has. The boys
+always say there is no cheating the Captain.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael owned himself grateful for his cousin's kindness,
+but he declined to call Woodcote his home.</p>
+
+<p>'I must have my own diggings,' was his answer&mdash;'a burrow
+where I can run to earth when my pet fiend tries to have a
+fling at me. Seriously, there are times when I am best alone&mdash;and,
+then, in town one sees one's friends. For a sick man,
+or whatever you like to call me, my taste is decidedly gregarious.
+"I would not shut me from my kind." Oh dear no!
+There is no study so interesting as human nature, and I am
+avowedly a student of anthropology; London is the place for
+a man with a hobby like mine.'</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, the chief part of Captain Burnett's time had
+been spent latterly at Woodcote.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">{36}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE NEW MASTER</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'We agree pretty well in our tastes and habits&mdash;yet so as "with a
+difference." We are generally in harmony, with occasional bickerings,
+as it should be among near relatives.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Essays of 'Elia.'</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Booty grew tired of barking at the swans long before his
+master had roused from his abstraction; it was doubtful how
+much longer Captain Burnett would have sat with his eyes
+fixed dreamily on the water, if a tall figure in white had not
+suddenly appeared under the arching trees, and Audrey stood
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>'I knew where I should find you,' she said, as he rose
+rather slowly from his seat. 'I have christened this bench
+Michael's Seat. How sweet the lake looks this evening! I
+wish I could stay to enjoy it, but I must go back to the
+drawing-room. Percival has come, and, do you know, the
+dressing-gong sounded ten minutes ago, and you have taken no
+notice of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will go at once,' was the answer, but to his surprise she
+stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>'Wait one moment, Michael; I have to ask you a favour.
+I want you to be kind, and to take a great deal of notice of
+Mr. Blake. He is very young and shy, and though his mother
+says he is so clever&mdash;and, indeed, father says so, too&mdash;one
+would not find it out, because he is so quiet, and you know
+how formidable Percival must be to a shy person.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you want me to take your new <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;</i> under my
+wing?' he returned, dissembling his surprise.</p>
+
+<p>She had put her hands on his arm, and was speaking with
+unusual earnestness, and he knew, by a certain look in her
+eyes, that something had vexed her.</p>
+
+<p>'He is not my <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;</i>,' she answered quickly. 'You talk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">{37}</a></span>
+as though he were a boy, a mere child, instead of being what
+he is&mdash;an exceedingly clever and gentlemanly young man.
+Michael, you generally understand me&mdash;you are always my
+ally when Percival is on his high horse&mdash;and I want you to
+stand Mr. Blake's friend to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I am not even to form my own opinion? Supposing
+the moment I shake hands with your pro&mdash;I mean your visitor&mdash;I
+become conscious of an inward antagonism? You see,
+Audrey, I am subject to likes and dislikes, in common with
+other people.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you must try to like him,' she returned impatiently.
+'I am very much interested in the whole family. We always
+like the same people, Michael&mdash;do we not?' in a coaxing
+voice. 'I know the Marquis will wear his most judicial aspect
+to-night; he will perfectly annihilate poor Mr. Blake;' for this
+was another sobriquet which Audrey applied to her brother-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>They were walking towards the house, but at this point
+Captain Burnett thought fit to stand still and shake his head,
+with a grieved expression of face.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Audrey, I should like to see you on more sisterly
+terms with Gage's husband.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't be silly,' was the only response; 'one cannot choose
+one's brother-in-law. The Marquis makes Gage a splendid
+husband&mdash;no one else could have mastered her&mdash;but I never
+could get on with a man who always thinks he is right about
+everything. Percival is too immaculate in his own and his
+wife's eyes to be in harmony with a sinner like myself; and I
+don't mind confessing to you, Michael, that he never opens his
+mouth without my longing to contradict him.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey said this with such perfect <i>na&iuml;vet&eacute;</i> and candour that
+Captain Burnett could only smile, though sheer honesty made
+him say a moment afterwards:</p>
+
+<p>'I think, indeed I have always thought, that you undervalue
+Harcourt. He is a fine fellow in his way. I like a man to be
+strong, and Harcourt is strong&mdash;he has no pettiness in his nature.
+He is rather a severe critic, perhaps&mdash;and demands a little too
+much from other people&mdash;but you will find that he always
+practises what he preaches.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish he understood me better,' was the rueful response.
+'Unhappily, he and Gage think their mission is to reform me.
+Now, Michael, do be quick, or the dinner-bell will ring;' and
+Audrey waved her hand gaily, and turned into the house,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">{38}</a></span>
+while Michael and his faithful Booty followed her more
+slowly.</p>
+
+<p>When Audrey entered the drawing-room she found her
+brother-in-law standing in his favourite attitude before the
+fireplace&mdash;he was evidently holding forth on some interesting
+topic, for Dr. Ross was listening to him with an amused expression
+of face, and Geraldine was watching him with admiring
+wifely eyes. He broke off, however, to greet Audrey, and
+there was brotherly warmth in his manner as he shook hands
+with her and asked after her health&mdash;a mere civility on his part,
+as Audrey was never ill.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt was a good-looking man of about forty&mdash;perhaps
+he was a year or two more, but he was young-looking
+for his age, and the absence of beard and moustache gave him a
+still more youthful aspect; the slight tinge of gray in his hair
+seemed to harmonise with the well-cut features. The mouth
+was especially handsome, though a sarcastic expression at times
+distinguished it. His figure was good, and without being tall,
+he carried himself with so much dignity as to give the impression
+of height. He was a man who would always be noticed
+among other men on account of his strong individuality and
+sheer force of character.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was right when she owned that he made a splendid
+husband for Geraldine. Mr. Harcourt was exceedingly proud
+of his beautiful wife; but from the first hour of her married life
+he had made her understand that though she managed other
+people, including her own mother, her husband was to be the
+one exception&mdash;that, in other words, he fully intended to be
+Geraldine's master.</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine had to learn this lesson even on her wedding-day.
+There was some little confusion at the last&mdash;a small hitch in
+the domestic arrangements&mdash;and someone, Dr. Ross probably,
+proposed that the happy couple should wait for a later train;
+they could telegraph, and dinner could be put back for an hour.
+Geraldine endorsed her father's opinion; perhaps, at the last
+minute, the young bride would fain have lingered lovingly in
+the home that had sheltered her so happily.</p>
+
+<p>'It is a good idea. We should have to drive so dreadfully
+fast,' she said with some eagerness. 'Yes, we will stay,
+Percival.'</p>
+
+<p>'My darling, there is someone else to consult,' he returned,
+taking her hand; 'and someone else votes differently. Dr.
+Ross, will you ask them to send round the carriage. Geraldine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">{39}</a></span>
+has had excitement enough; it will be far better for us to go.'
+Geraldine did not like her husband any the worse for showing
+her that he meant to manage for both for the future. She was
+clever enough to take the hint, and to refer to him on all
+occasions. Before many weeks were over, young Mrs. Harcourt
+had so fully identified herself with her husband's interests,
+was so strangely impregnated with his opinions, that she insensibly
+reproduced them&mdash;'and Percival thinks so and so' now
+replaced the old decided 'that is my opinion,' which had
+hitherto leavened her conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'Who would have thought that Geraldine, who snubbed all
+her lovers so unmercifully, and who never would listen to one
+until Percival "came, saw, and conquered"&mdash;who would have
+imagined that this very exacting young woman would have
+turned out a submissive and pattern wife?' was Audrey's remark
+when she returned from her first visit to Hillside.</p>
+
+<p>But in her heart she respected her brother-in-law for the
+change he had effected.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Audrey,' observed Mr. Harcourt, with a mischievous
+twinkle in his eyes, 'so I hear you have been enacting the part
+of Good Samaritan to the widow Blake and her children.
+What do you think of the bewitching widow and her Mary
+Queen of Scots beauty? Did she make an impression, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>'She is very handsome,' returned Audrey curtly; for she
+was not pleased with her brother-in-law's quizzical tone.</p>
+
+<p>How long had she stopped out with Michael? Barely ten
+minutes; and yet Percival was in possession of the whole story.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall be writing to Edith to-night, and I must tell her
+all about it,' he went on, for if there was one thing in which he
+delighted, it was teasing Audrey, and getting a rise out of her.
+In reality he was very fond of her; he admired her simplicity
+and the grand earnestness of her character; but he took the
+brotherly liberty of disagreeing with her upon some things.
+He told his wife privately that his one desire was to see Audrey
+married to the right man.</p>
+
+<p>'She is a fine creature, but she wants training and keeping
+in order; and I know the man who would just do for her,' he
+said once.</p>
+
+<p>But though Geraldine implored him to say whom he meant,
+and mentioned a dozen names in her womanly curiosity, Mr.
+Harcourt could not be induced to say more. He was no matchmaker,
+he thanked Heaven; he would be ashamed to meddle
+with such sacred mysteries. If there were one thing on which no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">{40}</a></span>
+human opinion ought to rashly intrude, it was when two people
+elected to enter the holy state of matrimony. It was enough
+that he knew the man, though he never intended to take a step
+to bring them together.</p>
+
+<p>'I think we had better drop the subject, as Mr. Blake will
+be here directly,' retorted Audrey, in her most repressive tones.
+'Father, do you know you have forgotten to wind up the
+drawing-room clock? I think it must be nearly seven.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is past seven,' answered her brother-in-law, producing his
+watch. 'Mr. Blake is keeping the dinner waiting. No one
+but a very young man would venture to commit such a solecism.
+Under the circumstances, it is really a breach of good manners.
+Don't you agree with me, Dr. Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>But Dr. Ross hesitated; he rarely agreed with such sweeping
+assertions. Geraldine murmured 'Very true,' which her mother
+echoed.</p>
+
+<p>'That is too bad!' exclaimed Audrey, who never could hold
+her tongue. 'If you had only seen the state of muddle they
+are in at the Gray Cottage! I daresay Mr. Blake has been
+unable to find anything; his mother does not seem a good
+manager. Hush! I hear a bell!'&mdash;interrupting herself.
+'Now you will not be kept any longer from your dinner,
+Percival.'</p>
+
+<p>'I was not thinking of myself,' he returned, with rather an
+annoyed air; for he was a quick-tempered man, and he was
+really very hungry. Thanks to his wife's splendid management,
+the meals were always punctual at Hillside. A deviation of
+five minutes would have boded woe to the best cook. Mr.
+Harcourt was no domestic tyrant; the boys, the servants,
+always looked upon him as a kind friend; but he was an
+exact disciplinarian, and the wheels of the domestic machinery
+at Hillside went smoothly. If Geraldine complained that one
+of the servants did not do her duty, his answer was always
+prompt: 'Send her away and get another. A servant without
+a conscience will never do for me.' But, as a matter of fact,
+no master was better served.</p>
+
+<p>To Audrey's relief, Michael appeared with Mr. Blake. He
+came in looking a little pale from the exertion of dressing so
+hurriedly, and Audrey's conscience pricked her for want of
+consideration as she saw that he limped more than usual,
+always a sign with him of over-fatigue. Mr. Blake looked
+handsomer than ever in evening dress, and Audrey noticed that
+Geraldine looked at him more than once, as though his appearance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">{41}</a></span>
+struck her. He certainly seemed very shy, and made his
+excuses to his hostess in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>'I ought not to have accepted Dr. Ross's kind invitation,'
+he said, starting a little as the dinner-bell immediately followed
+his entrance; 'everything is in such confusion at home.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose it was like hunting for a needle in a truss of hay,'
+observed Michael, in a genial voice. 'I can imagine the difficulties
+of making a toilet under such moving circumstances.
+No pun intended, I assure you. Don't look as though you want
+to hit me, Harcourt. I would not be guilty of a real pun for
+the world.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt was unable to reply at that moment, as he
+had to offer Audrey his arm and follow Dr. Ross into the
+dining-room; but as soon as they were seated and grace had
+been said, he addressed Michael.</p>
+
+<p>'I need not ask an omnivorous reader as you are, Burnett, if
+you remember "Elia's" remarks about puns.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose you mean that "a pun is a pistol let off at the
+ear, not a feather to tickle the intellect." Poor old "Elia"!
+what a man he was! With all his frailties he was adorable.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! I should be sorry to go as far as that; but I own
+I like his quaint, racy style. Dr. Ross is a fervent admirer of
+"St. Charles," as Thackeray once called him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, I am. I agree with Ainger in regarding him as
+the last of the Elizabethans. I love his fine humour and homely
+fantastic grandeur of style,' returned Dr. Ross warmly. 'The
+man's whole life, too, is so wonderfully pathetic. Few scenes
+in fiction are so touching as that sad scene where the unhappy
+Mary Lamb feels the dreaded attack of insanity coming on, and
+brother and sister, hand-in-hand, and weeping as they go, perform
+that sorrowful journey across the fields to the house where
+Mary is to be sheltered. I used to cry over that story as a boy.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey drew a long breath of relief. Her father had started
+on one of his hobbies. All would be well now.</p>
+
+<p>For one moment she had been anxious, very anxious. Like
+other men, Michael had his weaknesses. Nothing would annoy
+him more than to be supposed guilty of a premeditated pun.
+He always expressed a great deal of scorn for what he called a
+low form of wit&mdash;'and which is as far removed from wit,' he
+would add, 'as the slums of the Seven Dials are from Buckingham
+Palace.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt was quite aware of this fastidious dislike on
+Michael's part. It was, therefore, in pure malice that he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">{42}</a></span>
+asked that question about 'Elia'; but Michael's matter-of-fact
+answer had baffled him, and the sole result had been to start a
+delightful discussion on the writings of Charles Lamb and his
+contemporaries&mdash;a subject on which all three men talked exceedingly
+well.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey listened to them with delight. She was aware that
+Mr. Blake, who sat next her, was silent too. When a pause in
+the conversation occurred, she turned round to address him, and
+found him regarding her with an air of intelligent curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>'You seem to take a great deal of interest in all this,' he
+said, with a smile. 'Most ladies would consider it dry. I
+suppose you read a great deal.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid not. I love reading, but one finds so much
+else to do. But it is always a pleasure to me to hear my father
+talk. My brother-in-law, too, is a very clever man.'</p>
+
+<p>'So I should imagine. And Captain Burnett&mdash;is he also a
+relative?'</p>
+
+<p>'Only a sort of cousin. But he has no nearer ties, and he
+spends half his time at Woodcote. My sister and I look upon
+him as a brother&mdash;in fact, he has supplied a great want in my
+life. From a child I have so longed to have a brother of my
+own.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blake looked down at his plate.</p>
+
+<p>'A brother is not always an undivided blessing,' he said in
+a low voice, 'especially when he is a daily and hourly reproach
+to one. Oh, you know what I mean,' throwing back his head
+with a quick, nervous gesture. 'My mother says she has told
+you. I saw you looking at Kester this afternoon, but you are
+aware it was all my fault.'</p>
+
+<p>'But it was only an accident,' she returned gently. 'I hope
+that you are not morbid on the subject, Mr. Blake. Boys are
+terribly venturesome. I wonder more of them are not hurt.
+I am quite sure Kester does not blame you.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, you are right there; but somehow it is difficult for me
+to forget that my unlucky slip has spoiled the poor fellow's life.
+He is very good and patient, and we do all we can for him;
+but one dare not glance at the future. Excuse my bothering
+you with such a personal matter, but I cannot forget the way
+you looked at Kester; and then my mother said she had told
+you the whole story.'</p>
+
+<p>'I was very much interested,' she began, but just then Mr.
+Harcourt interrupted them by a remark pointedly addressed to
+Mr. Blake, so that he was obliged to break off his conversation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">{43}</a></span>
+with Audrey. This time the ladies were decidedly bored&mdash;none
+of them could follow the discussion; the conversation at Woodcote
+was rarely pedantic, but this evening Mr. Harcourt chose
+to argue a purely scholastic question&mdash;some translation from the
+Greek, which he declared to be full of gross errors.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt convinced that the subject had been chosen with
+the express purpose of crushing the new master; on this topic
+Michael would be unable to afford him the slightest help.
+True, he had been studying Greek for his own pleasure the last
+two years at her father's suggestion, and had made very fair
+progress, but only a finished scholar could have pronounced
+with any degree of certainty on such a knotty point.</p>
+
+<p>She was, therefore, all the more surprised and pleased when
+she found that Mr. Blake proved himself equal to the occasion.
+He had kept modestly in the background while the elder men
+were speaking, but when Mr. Harcourt appealed to him he took
+his part in the conversation quite readily, and expressed himself
+with the greatest ease and fluency; indeed, he not only ventured
+to contradict Mr. Harcourt, but he brought quite a respectable
+array of authorities to back his opinions.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt so interested in watching the changes of expression
+on her brother-in-law's face that she was quite reconciled
+to the insuperable difficulties that such a topic offered to her
+understanding. The sarcastic curve round Mr. Harcourt's
+mouth relaxed; he grew less dry and didactic in speech; each
+moment his manner showed more earnestness and interest.
+The silent young master was by no means annihilated; on the
+contrary, he proved himself a worthy antagonist. Audrey was
+quite sorry when Geraldine, stifling a yawn, gave her mother
+an imploring glance. Mrs. Ross willingly took the hint, and
+as Michael opened the door for them he whispered in Audrey's
+ear: 'He is quite capable of taking care of himself.' And
+Audrey nodded assent.</p>
+
+<p>She lingered in the hall a moment to look out on the
+moonlight, and on opening the drawing-room door she heard a
+few words in Geraldine's voice:</p>
+
+<p>'Splendidly handsome&mdash;dangerously so, in my opinion;
+what do you think, mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, my dear, I have seldom seen a finer-looking young
+man; and then his manners are so nice. Some clever young
+people are always pushing themselves into the conversation;
+they think nothing of silencing older men. Mr. Blake seems
+very modest and retiring.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">{44}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but he is too handsome,' was the regretful reply; and
+then Audrey joined them.</p>
+
+<p>'I knew you would say so,' she observed, with quite a
+pleased expression. 'Handsome is hardly the word; Mr.
+Blake has a beautiful face&mdash;he is like a Greek god.'</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine drew herself up a little stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Audrey, how absurd! do Greek gods have
+olive complexions? How Percival will laugh when I tell him
+that!'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure,' returned Audrey calmly; 'thank you for
+reminding me that you are married, Gage; I am always
+forgetting it. That is the worst of having one's sister married;
+one is never sure that one's little jokes and speeches are not
+repeated. Now, as my confidences are not intended for Percival,
+I will learn slowly and painfully to hold my tongue for
+the future.'</p>
+
+<p>This very natural speech went home, as Audrey intended it
+should. With all her dictatorial ways and clever management,
+Geraldine had a very warm heart.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Audrey dear,' she said, quite grieved at this, 'I hope
+you are not speaking seriously. Of course I will not repeat it
+to Percival if you do not wish it; but when you are married
+yourself you will know how difficult it is to keep back any
+little thing that interests one.'</p>
+
+<p>'When I am married&mdash;I mean, if I be ever married,'
+substituted Audrey, blushing a little, as girls will&mdash;'I hope I
+shall be quite as capable of self-control and discrimination as in
+my single days. I have never considered the point very
+closely; but now I come to think of it, I would certainly have
+an understanding with my husband on the wedding-day. "My
+dear Clive," I would say to him&mdash;Clive is a favourite name of
+mine; I hope I shall marry a Clive&mdash;"you must understand
+once for all that, though I intend to treat you with wifely
+confidence, I shall only tell my own secrets&mdash;not other people's."
+And he will reply, "Audrey, you are the most honourable of
+women. I respected you before; I venerate you now."'</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey, how you talk!' But Mrs. Harcourt could not
+help laughing. Audrey was looking very nice this evening;
+white always suited her. To be sure, her hair might have
+been smoother. 'There is some sort of charm about her that
+is better than beauty,' she thought, with sisterly admiration;
+and then she asked her mother if she did not think Percival
+looked a little pale.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">{45}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'He works too hard,' she continued; 'and he will not break
+himself of his old bachelor habit of sitting up late.'</p>
+
+<p>'Men like their own way; you must not be too anxious,'
+retorted Mrs. Ross tranquilly. 'When I first married, I
+worried myself dreadfully about your father; but I soon found
+it was no use. And look at him now; late hours have not
+hurt him in the least. No one has better health than your
+father.'</p>
+
+<p>But the young wife was only half comforted.</p>
+
+<p>'My father's constitution is different,' she returned. 'Percival
+is strong; but his nerves are irritable; his organisation is
+more sensitive. It is burning both ends of the candle. I tell
+him he uses himself up too lavishly.'</p>
+
+<p>'I used to say much the same things to your father, but he
+soon cured me. He asked me once why I was so bent on
+bringing him round to my opinions. "I do not try to alter
+yours," I remember he said once, in his half-joking way. "I do
+not ask you to sit up with me; though, no doubt, that is part
+of your wifely duty. I allow you to go to bed when you are
+sleepy, in the most unselfish way. So, my dear, you must
+allow me the same liberty of action." And, would you
+believe it, I never dared say another word to him on the
+subject.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are a model wife, are you not, mother?' observed
+Audrey caressingly.</p>
+
+<p>'No, dear; I never deserved your father,' returned Mrs.
+Ross, with much feeling, and the tears started to her eyes.
+'If only my girls could have as happy a life! I am sure dear
+Geraldine has done well for herself&mdash;Percival makes her an
+excellent husband; and if I could only see you happily settled,
+Audrey, I should be perfectly satisfied.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you so anxious to lose me?' asked the younger girl
+reproachfully. 'You must find me a man as good as father,
+then. I am not so sure that I want to be married; I fancy an
+old maid's mission will suit me best. I have too many plans
+in my head; no respectable man would tolerate me.'</p>
+
+<p>'May I ask what you ladies are talking about?' asked
+Captain Burnett, as he sauntered lazily round the screen that,
+even in summer-time, shut in the fireplace, and made a cosy
+corner. Mr. Blake followed him.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey looked at them both calmly.</p>
+
+<p>'I was only suggesting my possible mission as a single
+woman. Don't you think I should make a charming old maid,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">{46}</a></span>
+Michael?' and Audrey folded her beautifully-shaped arms, and
+drew herself up; but her dimple destroyed the effect. Cyril
+Blake darted a quick look at her; then he crossed the room
+and sat down by Mrs. Ross, and talked to her and Geraldine
+until it was time for him to take his leave.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">{47}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE GRAY COTTAGE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'I think I love most people best when they are in adversity; for pity is
+one of my prevailing passions.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mary Wolstonecraft Godwin's Letter.</span></p></div>
+
+<p>The next morning, as Captain Burnett was strolling across
+the tennis-lawn in search of a shady corner where he could read
+his paper, he encountered Audrey. She was walking in the
+direction of the gate, and had a basket of flowers in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>She was hurrying past him with a nod and a smile, but he
+coolly stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>'May I ask where you are going, my Lady Bountiful?' for
+this was a name he often called her, perhaps in allusion to her
+sweet, bountiful nature; but Audrey, in her simplicity, had
+never understood the compliment.</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated a moment; and this was so unusual on her part,
+that Captain Burnett metaphorically pricked up his ears. To
+use his own language, he immediately scented the whole business.</p>
+
+<p>'I am going into the town; but I have a great deal to do,'
+she returned quickly. 'Please do not detain me, Michael. I
+am not like you: I cannot afford the luxury of idleness.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, no; it is rather a dear commodity, certainly,' he
+replied pleasantly, though that hasty speech made him inwardly
+wince, as though someone had touched an unhealed wound.
+'Luxury of idleness!' how he loathed it!</p>
+
+<p>'If you are too long, I shall come and look after you,' he
+continued significantly; but to this she made no reply. She
+took herself to task as she walked on. She had not been
+perfectly open with Michael, but then he had no right to
+question her movements. She had spoken the truth; she
+certainly had business in the town&mdash;several orders to give&mdash;before
+she went to the Gray Cottage. Michael was her ally&mdash;her
+faithful, trusty ally. No knight sworn to serve his liege<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">{48}</a></span>
+lady had ever been more zealous in his fealty. But even to
+Michael she did not wish to confess that the greater part of the
+morning would be spent at the Gray Cottage.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had no idea that her cousin had guessed her little
+secret&mdash;that he was smiling over it as he unfolded his paper.
+Her conscience was perfectly easy with regard to her motives.
+Pure compassion for those two poor children was her only inducement.
+There was no danger of encountering the elder
+brother.</p>
+
+<p>The windows of the great schoolroom opened on the terrace,
+and as Audrey had passed to gather her flowers she had had a
+glimpse of a dark, closely-cropped head, and the perfect profile
+that she had admired last night, and she knew the new master
+would be fully occupied all the morning. Audrey felt a little
+needle-prick of unavailing compunction as she remembered her
+allusion to the Greek god yesterday.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish I were not so foolishly outspoken!' she thought. 'I
+always say just what comes into my head. With some people
+it would not matter&mdash;with Michael, for example. He never
+misunderstands one's meaning. But poor dear Gage is so
+literal. Clever as she is, she has no sense of humour.'</p>
+
+<p>Here she paused at the grocer's to give her orders, but
+directly she left the shop she took up the same thread again:</p>
+
+<p>'I am always making resolutions to be more careful, but it
+never seems any use. The thoughts will come tumbling out
+like ill-behaved children just let out of school. There is no
+keeping them in order. I fancy Mr. Blake is outspoken, too,
+when he gets rid of his shyness. I was so surprised when he
+blurted out that little bit about his brother. He looked so sad
+over it, too. I think I must have made a mistake in supposing
+that he only cared for his mother. It was odd to make me his
+confidante; but, then, people always do tell me things. He is
+Irish, of course. Irishmen are always impulsive.'</p>
+
+<p>But here another list of orders to be given at the ironmonger's
+checked these vague musings.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was fully expected at the Cottage. She had hardly
+lifted the latch of the gate before Mollie appeared in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>'I knew you would come,' she said shyly, as Audrey kissed
+her and put the flowers in her hands. 'Oh what lovely flowers!
+Are they for mamma, Miss Ross? Thank you ever so much!
+Mamma is so passionately fond of flowers, and so is Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'And not Kester?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">{49}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; he loves them too,' burying her face in the
+delicious blossoms&mdash;'roses especially; they are his favourite
+flowers. But, of course, no one thinks of sending them to
+Kester; he is only a boy.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I daresay you like them, too?'</p>
+
+<p>Mollie vehemently nodded assent.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, then, I shall bring you and Kester some next time.
+You are right in thinking those are for your mother. May I go
+in and speak to her?&mdash;for we have to be very busy, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma is not up yet,' returned Mollie; and as Audrey
+looked surprised, she added quickly: 'She and Cyril sat up so
+late last night. She was wanting to hear all about his evening,
+and it was such a lovely night that they were in the garden
+until nearly twelve o'clock, and so, of course, she is tired this
+morning.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey made no reply to this. Mrs. Blake was charming,
+but she was certainly a little erratic in her habits. No wonder
+there was so little comfort in the house when the mistress disliked
+early rising.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie seemed to take it as a matter of course; besides, she
+was too much absorbed in the flowers to notice Miss Ross's
+reproving silence. She rushed off to find a jug of water, and
+Audrey turned into the dining-room, which presented the same
+aspect of confusion that it had worn yesterday. Kester was on
+his knees trying to unpack a hamper of books. It cost him a
+painful effort to rise, and he looked so pale and exhausted that
+Audrey at once took him in hand.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear boy,' she said kindly, as she helped him to the
+sofa, 'how very imprudent! You have no right to try your
+strength in that way. How could Mollie let you touch those
+books!'</p>
+
+<p>'She has everything to do, and I wished to help her,' he
+returned, panting with the exertion. 'Cyril wants his books
+so badly, and he has put up the bookcase, you see. He did
+that this morning&mdash;he had scarcely time to eat his breakfast&mdash;and
+then he asked Mollie if she would unpack the books.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will help Mollie,' returned Audrey, laying aside her hat.
+'Now, Kester, I want to ask you a favour. You will only be
+in our way here. Will you please take possession of that nice
+hammock-chair that someone has put outside the window? and
+we will just fly round, as the Yankee domestics say.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey spoke with such good-natured decision, with such
+assurance of being obeyed, that Kester did not even venture on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">{50}</a></span>
+a grumbling remonstrance&mdash;the poor fellow was too much
+accustomed to be set on one side, and to be told that he was
+no use. But Audrey had no intention of leaving him in idleness.</p>
+
+<p>'By and by, when the room is a little clearer, you can be of
+the greatest help to us; for you can sit at the table and dust
+the books in readiness for us to arrange.' And Kester's face
+brightened up at that.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was quite in her element. As she often told her
+mother, she was robust enough for a housemaid. The well-ordered
+establishment at Woodcote, with its staff of trained
+domestics and its excellent matron, afforded little scope for her
+youthful activities. Mrs. Ross was her own housekeeper, and
+though she had contentedly relinquished her duties to Geraldine
+for the last few years, she had not yet offered to transfer them
+to Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey pretended to be a little hurt at this arrangement,
+but in reality she was secretly relieved. Her tastes were not
+sufficiently domestic. She liked better to supplement her
+mother's duties than to take the entire lead. In her way she
+was extremely useful. She wrote a great many of the business
+letters, undertook all the London shopping, and assisted Mrs.
+Ross in entertaining her numerous visitors, many of whom were
+the boys' mothers; and though Mrs. Ross still regretted the
+loss of her elder daughter, and complained that no one could
+replace Geraldine, she was fully sensible of Audrey's efficiency
+and good-humoured and ready help.</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey is as good as gold, and does all I want her to do,'
+she said to Geraldine, when the latter had questioned her very
+closely on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>It was no trouble to Audrey to dash off half a dozen letters
+before post-time, or to drive into Sittingbourne to meet a batch
+of boys' relatives. She was naturally active, and hated an idle
+moment; but no work suited her so well as this Herculean
+task of evoking order out of the Blake chaos. Molly was so
+charmed with her energy, so fired by her example, that she
+worked like a dozen Mollies. The books were soon unpacked
+and on the table; then Biddy was called in to clear away the
+straw and hampers, and to have a grand sweep. Nothing more
+could be done until this had been carried out, so they left Biddy
+to revel in dust and tea-leaves, while they turned out another
+hamper or two in the kitchen; for in the course of their labours
+Mollie had confided to Audrey that certain indispensable articles
+were still missing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">{51}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'The best thing would be to get rid of as many of the
+hampers as possible,' replied Audrey; 'they are only in the
+way; let us pack them up in the yard, and then one can have
+room to move.'</p>
+
+<p>When Biddy had finished her labours and all the dirt had
+been removed, Kester hobbled in willingly to dust the books,
+and Audrey and Mollie arranged them on the shelves. There
+were not so very many, but they were all well and carefully
+chosen&mdash;Greek and Latin authors, all Carlyle's and Emerson's
+works, a few books of history and philosophy, the principal
+poets, and some standard works of fiction: Dickens, Thackeray,
+and Sir Walter Scott&mdash;the latter bound very handsomely.
+Audrey felt sure, as she placed the books on the shelves, that
+this little library was collected by a great deal of self-denial
+and effort. The young student had probably little money to
+spare. With the exception of Sir Walter Scott and Thackeray,
+none of the books were handsomely bound; that they were
+well read was obvious, for a volume of Browning's poems
+happening to fall from her hand, Audrey could see profuse
+pencil-marks, and one philosophical book had copious notes on
+the margin.</p>
+
+<p>'They are all Cyril's books,' observed Mollie, unconsciously
+answering Audrey's thought. 'Poor Cyril! it is such a trouble
+to him that he cannot afford to buy more books. When he
+was at Oxford he used to go without things to get them; he
+said he would sooner starve than be without books. Is it not
+sad to be so dreadfully poor, Miss Ross? But I suppose you
+don't know how it feels. Mamma bought him that lovely
+edition of Thackeray&mdash;oh, and Sir Walter Scott's novels too.
+Don't you like that binding? it is very expensive. Cyril was
+so vexed at mamma's spending all that money on him when
+Kester wanted things, I am afraid he hardly thanked her, and
+mamma cried about it.'</p>
+
+<p>Mollie was chattering on without thinking until a bell made
+her start and hurry away. She did not come back for some
+time, and Audrey finished her task alone.</p>
+
+<p>'I have been making mamma some coffee,' she said gravely;
+'she had one of her headaches. She has sent you a message,
+Miss Ross; she is so delighted with the flowers. She wanted
+to get up at once and thank you, and then she thought she had
+better lie still until her headache was better; but she will be
+down presently.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then we must make haste and finish the room before she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">{52}</a></span>
+comes. Mollie, I can do nothing with those pictures; we will
+put them up against the wall until your brother can hang them.
+Let me see; that corner behind the writing-table&mdash;no one can
+see them there. Quick! hand me another. Is this a portrait
+of your father?' stopping to regard a half-length figure of a
+fine-looking man in naval uniform.</p>
+
+<p>'No, that is only an uncle of mamma's; I forget his name.
+Do you remember it, Kester? Papa was a merchant&mdash;at least,
+I think so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Has he been long dead?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; he died abroad when Kester and I were quite
+little; that is why we are so poor. Mamma has often told us
+that it is her money we are living on. I don't know how she
+managed to send Cyril to Oxford; but we had no house all that
+time, only poky little lodgings. Are we going to arrange the
+furniture now, Miss Ross? Oh, how comfortable the room
+begins to look, and how delighted Cyril will be when he comes
+home this afternoon! He says that Dr. Ross wants him after
+school, so he will not run home before dinner. How glad I am
+that Cyril will always have a nice dinner now! He does so
+hate Biddy's cooking; he declares everything tastes alike. You
+say so, too, don't you, Kester?'</p>
+
+<p>Kester's answer was a shrug of the shoulders; he seemed
+more reserved than Mollie, who was chattering to her new friend
+with all the frankness and thoughtlessness of a very young girl.</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma never minds what sort of dinner Biddy sends up,
+if only Cyril does not find fault. I think she would live on
+tea and dry bread all the year round if only Cyril could have
+nice things.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril&mdash;always Cyril! Audrey turned the subject by asking
+Mollie if she would like the couch in the window. Mollie
+clapped her hands delightedly at the effect.</p>
+
+<p>'It looks beautiful; don't you think so, Kester? And how
+funny! Miss Ross has put your own particular little table
+beside it, just as though she guessed that it was to hold your
+desk and your books. There is Kester's little box of books,
+but he will unpack them himself by and by.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie, have you ordered the dinner?' interrupted Kester a
+little anxiously&mdash;and poor Mollie's face fell.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh dear, I am so sorry, but I have forgotten all about it;
+the butcher has not called, and there are only those potatoes
+and bread and cheese. Mamma is right when she says my
+head is like a sieve.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">{53}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Why don't you send Biddy for some chops, my dear?'
+remarked Audrey very sensibly.</p>
+
+<p>Kester had spoken in a loud whisper, but she had overheard
+every word. Mollie started off with a look of relief to hunt up
+the old woman, and when Audrey found herself alone with
+Kester she could not help saying to him:</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie is a very young housekeeper&mdash;girls of fourteen are
+liable to forget sometimes;' but to her surprise he fired up at
+once:</p>
+
+<p>'They all expect too much of her; I hate to see her slave
+as she does: it is not right, it is not fair&mdash;I tell Cyril so. She
+has no time to herself; all her lessons are neglected. If only
+mother would send Biddy away and get another servant!'</p>
+
+<p>'Who teaches Mollie, then?' she asked, a little curiously.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, mother gives her lessons sometimes, but they are not
+very regular, and I help her with arithmetic and Latin. Cyril
+always gives me an hour or two in the evening, when his work
+is done, but of course Mollie does not care to learn Greek.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that your brother gives you lessons when he
+has been teaching all day?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and he is awfully tired sometimes; but he never likes
+me to be disappointed. Mother often tries to make him take a
+walk instead; but Cyril is such a brick: he never will listen to
+her.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt a little glow of satisfaction as she heard this.
+What a kind brother Mr. Blake seemed to be&mdash;how truly
+estimable! she would never judge hastily of anyone again.
+Just then the clock struck one, and she told Kester that she
+must hurry away. She was disappointed that Mrs. Blake had
+not yet appeared&mdash;she wanted to see the face that had haunted
+her so persistently; but the bewitching widow had not shown
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid I must go, or I shall be late for luncheon,' she
+said hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>'I will tell Mollie,' returned the boy; and then he said a
+little awkwardly: 'You have been awfully good to us, Miss
+Ross; I don't know how Mollie and I are to thank you. You
+must be quite tired out.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey laughed.</p>
+
+<p>'I am not so easily tired, Kester, and I am rather fond of
+this sort of work. Do you think your mother would mind if I
+were to look in to-morrow afternoon and help a little with the
+drawing-room? Mollie said something about it just now, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">{54}</a></span>
+I half promised&mdash;she is to help Biddy put up the plates and
+dishes this afternoon; that will be as much as she can do.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure mother will be only too delighted,' replied Kester
+gratefully; and then Audrey went in search of Mollie, and
+found her occupied with the chops, while Biddy cleaned the
+knives. Mollie turned a scorched cheek to her.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Miss Ross, thank you ever so much,' she said fervently
+as Audrey repeated her promise of looking in the next afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor little soul! how interested Michael will be when I
+tell him all about her!' she thought as she walked briskly
+towards Woodcote.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had scarcely closed the green gate behind her before
+Mrs. Blake's foot sounded on the stairs. She looked pale and
+heavy-eyed, and walked into the room a little languidly; but if
+Audrey had seen her she would only have thought that her
+paleness invested her with fresh interest.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross has gone, mamma,' observed Mollie regretfully,
+as she followed her into the room.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know; I felt too jaded to face visitors this morning&mdash;Miss
+Ross looks at one so, and my nerves would not stand it.
+How are you, Kester?' kissing his forehead lightly; 'you look
+better than usual. I don't believe I closed my eyes until four
+o'clock. Dear me!' interrupting herself; 'there are Cyril's
+books nicely arranged&mdash;did you do them, Mollie? Why, the
+room looks quite comfortable and homelike. Miss Ross must
+have helped you a great deal.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, mamma,' exclaimed Mollie and Kester eagerly; and
+they were about to expatiate on Audrey's wonderful goodness,
+when their mother checked them:</p>
+
+<p>'Please don't speak so loud, children, or you will make my
+head bad again. I will tell you what we will do, Mollie. We
+will make those curtains, and then this room will be quite
+finished. There are only the hems and just the tops to do.
+We can have no difficulty in finishing them before Cyril comes
+home. The red tablecloth is at the top of the black box&mdash;if
+you will fetch it, Mollie&mdash;and I have arranged the flowers in
+that pretty green vase.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, mamma,' pleaded Mollie, in a vexed voice, 'the room
+will do quite well without curtains for one day, and I promised
+Miss Ross to help Biddy with the plates and dishes. All the
+hampers are unpacked, and there is not a corner in the kitchen
+to put anything&mdash;and it does make Biddy so cross.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">{55}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense, Mollie! Who minds about Biddy's crossness!
+I suppose I may do as I like in my own house. Let us have
+dinner, and then we will set to work at once&mdash;you and I&mdash;and
+Kester can read to us;' and, seeing that her mother's mind was
+fully made up, Mollie very wisely held her tongue, probably
+admonished thereto by a mild kick from Kester.</p>
+
+<p>So, as soon as the chops had been eaten, Mollie produced her
+mother's work-basket and a shabby little cotton-box that was
+appropriated to her own use, and sewed industriously, only
+pausing at intervals to watch the white, slender fingers that
+seemed to make the needle fly through the stuff.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake was evidently an accomplished seamstress, and
+long before four o'clock the curtains were put up, and duly
+admired by the whole family and Biddy.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">{56}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>KESTER'S HERO</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Measure thy life by loss instead of gain&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Not by wine drunk, but by the wine poured forth;</div>
+<div class="verse">For love's strength standeth in love's sacrifice;</div>
+<div class="verse">And whose suffers most hath most to give.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Ugo Bassi.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Audrey was bent on keeping her promise to Mollie, but she
+found a great deal of finesse and skilful management were
+necessary to secure her afternoon from interruption.</p>
+
+<p>First, there was a note from Hillside. Mrs. Harcourt had
+to pay a round of visits, and would be glad of her sister's
+company: and as Mrs. Ross evidently thought that a refusal was
+impossible under such circumstances, Audrey felt that she was
+in a dilemma.</p>
+
+<p>'Gage will have the carriage,' she said, with a trace of
+annoyance in her tone. 'She cannot possibly require me,
+especially as she knows an afternoon spent in paying formal
+calls is my pet abomination.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, my dear Audrey, you would surely not allow your sister
+to go alone,' began her mother in a voice of mild remonstrance.
+She very seldom interfered with Audrey&mdash;indeed, that young
+person was in most respects her own mistress&mdash;but when
+Geraldine's interests were involved Mrs. Ross could be firm.
+'You are very good-natured,' she went on, 'and I am sure it is
+very good of you to take all that trouble for those poor neglected
+children'&mdash;for Mrs. Ross's motherly sympathies were already
+enlisted on behalf of Mollie and Kester&mdash;'but, of course, your
+first duty is to your sister.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, my dear mother, a promise is a promise, and poor
+little Mollie is expecting me.' And then a bright idea came to
+Audrey. 'Why should you not go with Gage yourself? It is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">{57}</a></span>
+a lovely afternoon, and the drive will do you good. Gage
+would much prefer your company to mine, and you know how
+much she admires your new bonnet;' and though Mrs. Ross
+faintly demurred to this, she was in the end overruled by
+Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear mother! she and Gage will enjoy themselves thoroughly,'
+thought Audrey, as she watched Mrs. Ross drive from the door,
+looking the picture of a well-dressed English gentlewoman.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had to inflict another disappointment before she
+could get her own way. Michael wanted her to go with him
+to the cricket-field. There was a match being played, and on
+these occasions Audrey was always his companion. She understood
+the game as well as he did, and always took an intelligent
+interest in it. Audrey was sorry to refuse him and to see him
+go off alone.</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind; I daresay I shall only stay for an hour,' he
+said, as he took down his hat and walked with her to the gate
+of the Gray Cottage.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie was on the watch for her, and darted out to meet
+her.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Miss Ross,' she said excitedly, 'I have so much to tell
+you! Mamma has had to go up to London this morning on
+business, and she is so sorry because she did not see you
+yesterday; and I was to give you all sorts of messages and
+thanks. And now please do come into the kitchen a moment,
+and you will see how hard we have worked.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey followed her at once.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Mollie, how could you have done so much!' she exclaimed
+in genuine surprise, as she looked round her.</p>
+
+<p>The plates and dishes were neatly arranged on the dresser,
+the dish-covers and tins hanging in their places, the crate of
+glass and china emptied of its contents and in the yard. The
+floor had been scrubbed as well as the table, and Biddy stood
+by the side of her freshly-blackleaded stove, with the first
+smile Audrey had yet seen on her wrinkled face.</p>
+
+<p>'It is not all Miss Mollie's doing,' she said, with a chuckle,
+as she carried off the kettle.</p>
+
+<p>'Did your mother help you?' asked Audrey, for Mollie only
+looked mysterious.</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma! Oh dear no! She was busy all the evening with
+the curtains. Oh, what fun! I do wish Kester were here, but
+he is studying his Greek. Dear Miss Ross, you do look so
+puzzled. It was not mamma, and it was not Biddy, though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">{58}</a></span>
+she cleaned the kitchen this morning; and of course it could
+not be Kester.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will give it up,' returned Audrey, laughing. 'Some
+magician must have been at work&mdash;and a very clever magician,
+too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I will tell Cyril that!' replied Mollie, clapping her
+hands. 'Why did you not guess Cyril, Miss Ross? He is
+clever enough for anything.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean Mr. Blake put up all these plates and dishes?'
+observed Audrey, feeling as much surprised as an Athenian
+damsel would have been if she had heard of Apollo turning
+scullion.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, indeed! I must tell you all about it,' returned
+Mollie garrulously, for she was an inveterate chatterbox. 'You
+know, I had promised to help Biddy because she was in such a
+muddle, and then mamma came down and said we must get the
+dining-room curtains ready, to surprise Cyril when he came home.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, he was very pleased; but I am afraid mamma thought
+that he took more notice of the way his books were arranged
+than of the curtains; but he said it all looked very nice, and
+that we were getting to rights now; and then mamma said
+that, as she was in the mood for work, we might as well do the
+drawing-room curtains too.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, my dear Mollie, the furniture is not yet arranged.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, of course not; but you don't understand mamma. She
+never does things quite like other people. She likes either to
+work all day long, and not give herself time for meals even, or
+else to do nothing; she likes beginning things, but she hates
+being compelled to finish them. That is why I am obliged to
+wear this shabby old frock,' looking down at it ruefully.
+'Mamma has two such pretty ones half done, and I don't know
+when she will finish them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does your mother make all your frocks, dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and she does work so beautifully&mdash;everyone says so.
+But she is not always in the mood, and then it troubles her;
+she was in the curtain mood last night. Cyril saw I was vexed
+about something, and when mamma went out of the room he
+asked me if I were tired; and I could hardly help crying as I
+told him about my promise to you; and then he called me a
+little goose, and pulled my hair, as he does sometimes, and told
+me to leave it to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes&mdash;&mdash;' as Mollie paused from sheer want of breath.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course Cyril can always manage mamma. He sent me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">{59}</a></span>
+into the kitchen, and in ten minutes he came after me, and
+asked what was to be done. Kester dusted all the glass, and
+Cyril and I did the rest. We were hard at work till ten
+o'clock; and Biddy was so pleased.'</p>
+
+<p>'And now we must go upstairs,' returned Audrey, when
+Mollie's story was told. 'Perhaps Biddy will be good enough
+to help us.' And in a little while the three were hard at work.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey and Mollie arranged the shabby furniture to the best
+advantage. One or two Oriental rugs were spread on the dark-polished
+floor; then the curtains were hung and draped in the
+most effective manner, and some old china, that Mollie said was
+her mother's special treasure, was carefully washed and placed
+on the shelves of an old cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>'It really looks very nice,' observed Audrey contentedly,
+when Biddy had gone down to see after the tea. She had
+enjoyed her afternoon far more than if she had been paying
+those calls with Geraldine. 'I always liked this room so
+much;' and she gave a touch to the big Japanese screen and
+flecked some dust from the writing-table. 'I daresay your
+mother will alter the position of the furniture&mdash;people always
+have their own ideas. But I hope she will not move the couch;
+it stands so well in that recess. Do you think she will like
+this little table in the window, Mollie? I am sure this would
+be my favourite seat;' and Audrey took it for a moment as she
+spoke, and looked down at the old arches and the quiet courtyard,
+with its well-worn flagstones. The martins were twittering
+about the eaves; some brown, dusty sparrows were chirping
+loudly. The ivy-covered buildings round the corner were just
+visible; and a large gray cat moved stealthily between the
+arches, intent on some subtle mischief. Mr. Charrington's boys
+were all on the cricket-field, watching an exciting match
+between Rutherford and Haileybury, and the school-house was
+deserted.</p>
+
+<p>'That must be your seat when you come to see us,' observed
+Mollie affectionately. 'Mamma was only saying this morning
+that she had taken a fancy to you, and hoped you would come
+very often; and Kester said he hoped so, too, because you were
+so very kind.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you have many friends at Headingly?' asked Audrey
+absently.</p>
+
+<p>She was wondering to whom Kester was talking. She
+could hear his voice through the open window; it sounded
+bright and animated. It could not possibly be his brother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">{60}</a></span>;
+Mr. Blake would be with the boys on the cricket-field. Perhaps
+Mrs. Blake had returned from town.</p>
+
+<p>'We had no friends at all,' returned Mollie disconsolately;
+'at least, no real friends. People just called on us and left
+their cards. Mrs. Bryce was very kind to Kester, but mamma
+never got on with her. We none of us liked Headingly much,
+except Cyril. Everyone was nice to him, but when mamma
+fretted and said she was miserable, and that no one in the
+place cared for her, he seemed to lose interest, too; and when
+this vacancy occurred, he just said he had had enough of it,
+and that mamma would be happier in a fresh place, and so we
+came here, and now we have found you;' and Mollie's brown
+eyes were very soft as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you will find plenty of people to like at Rutherford,'
+replied Audrey. 'You have not seen my mother yet, Mollie;
+she is so good to everyone, and so is father. And then there
+is my cousin, Captain Burnett, who half lives with us; he is
+one of the nicest men possible.'</p>
+
+<p>But as Audrey spoke, she had no idea that Michael was
+that minute talking to Kester. It fell out in this way:
+Michael found it slow on the cricket-field without Audrey; so
+many people came up and talked to him that he got quite
+bored. Captain Burnett was a general favourite with men as
+well as women; he had the reputation of being a hero: women
+pitied him for his ill-health and misfortunes, and men admired
+him for the cheerful pluck with which he endured them.</p>
+
+<p>'Burnett is a pleasant fellow and a gentleman,' was one
+observation. 'Perhaps he is a bit solemn at times, but I
+fancy that confounded wound of his gives him trouble. Anyhow,
+he never plagues other people with his ailments. "Grin
+and bear it"&mdash;I fancy that is Burnett's motto.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael found the cricket-field dull without Audrey's liveliness
+to give zest to the afternoon; she always took people away
+when he was tired. He had had enough of it long before the
+match was over. Just as he was sauntering homewards he
+encountered Mr. Blake, and in the course of brief conversation
+he learnt that Mrs. Blake was in town.</p>
+
+<p>Michael thought he would call and see if Audrey were ready
+to come home&mdash;it would do no harm to inquire at the door;
+but Biddy, who was scouring the doorsteps, told him abruptly
+to step in and he would find the lady; and, half amused at
+his own coolness, he, nothing loath, accepted the invitation.</p>
+
+<p>He found Kester alone in the dining-room busy over his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">{61}</a></span>
+lessons. He looked up in some astonishment at the sight of
+a strange gentleman, and Zack, the retriever, growled rather
+inhospitably at Booty. Perhaps the Dachs-hund's short legs
+affronted him.</p>
+
+<p>'Am I disturbing you?' asked Michael in his most genial
+manner. And he looked at the boy's pale intelligent face with
+much interest. 'I have come to see after my cousin, Miss
+Ross. Is she anywhere about? My name is Captain
+Burnett.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I know,' returned Kester, flushing a little nervously
+under the scrutiny of those keen blue eyes; 'Cyril told us
+about you. Miss Ross is upstairs with Mollie; they are putting
+the drawing-room to rights, but they will be down to tea
+presently. Will you sit down,' still more nervously, 'or shall
+I call Mollie?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no; there is no hurry, unless I am interrupting you,'
+with a glance at Kester's books. 'You are doing Greek,
+eh?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I am getting ready for Cyril this evening; but I am
+too tired to do more.'</p>
+
+<p>And Kester pushed away his papers with a movement
+that betrayed latent irritability. Michael knew that sign of
+weakness well.</p>
+
+<p>'That is right; shut up your books,' he said with ready
+kindness. 'Never work when you are tired: it is bad
+economy; it is using up one's stock of fuel too recklessly&mdash;lighting
+a furnace to cook a potato. The results are not worth
+it. Tired work is bad work&mdash;I have proved it.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am generally tired,' returned Kester with a sigh. And
+it was sad to see the gravity that crept over the young face.
+'It does not do to think too much of one's feelings; one has
+just to bear it, you know. I am ignorant enough as it is, and
+I must learn; I will learn!' setting his teeth hard.</p>
+
+<p>Michael shot a quick glance at the lad; then he turned
+over the leaves of the book next him for a moment in silence.</p>
+
+<p>'I must know more of this fellow,' he thought; 'Audrey
+is right; she is generally right about people.' Then in his
+ordinary quiet tone:</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder your brother finds time for private tuition. I
+live at the lower school, you know, and so I understand all
+about the junior master's work. Mr. Blake has his evenings
+free generally, but there is dormitory work and&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril says he will always give me an hour and a half,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">{62}</a></span>
+interrupted Kester eagerly. 'Of course, it is not good for him
+to have any more teaching; but he says he would hate to see
+me grow up a dunce&mdash;and&mdash;and'&mdash;swallowing down some
+secret emotion&mdash;' I think it would break my heart not to know
+things.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you want to be a classical scholar?' in the same grave
+tones.</p>
+
+<p>'I want to learn everything;' and here there was a sudden
+kindling in the boy's eyes. 'I must do something, and my
+lameness hinders everything but that&mdash;perhaps, if I learn
+plenty of Latin and Greek, I may be able to help Cyril one
+day. We often talk about it, and even mother thinks it is a
+good plan. One day Cyril hopes to have a school of his own&mdash;when
+he is older, you know&mdash;and then I could take the younger
+boys off his hands and save him the cost of an usher; don't
+you think that would be possible?' looking anxiously at
+Michael, for somehow those steady clear eyes seemed so
+thoroughly to comprehend him.</p>
+
+<p>'I think it an excellent plan,' retained Michael slowly;
+"knowledge is power"&mdash;we all know that. Do you know,'
+drawling out his words a little, 'that I have been working at
+Greek, too, for the last two years? I took it up as a sort of
+amusement when I was seedy; it would not be bad fun to
+work together sometimes. I daresay you are ahead of me in
+Greek, but I don't believe you could beat me in mathematics.
+We could help each other, and it would be good practice. I
+suppose your brother gives you lessons in mathematics.'</p>
+
+<p>Kester shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>'There is not time for everything, and Cyril always says
+mathematics are not in his line&mdash;he is a classical master, you
+see.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, that is easily understood; but you can have more
+than one master. Come, shall we make a bargain? Will you
+read Greek with me? and I will give you an hour three
+times a week for mathematics, or anything else you like. I
+am an idle man, and any fixed occupation would be a boon to
+me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean it?' was the breathless answer; and then
+he added, a little shyly: 'I am awfully obliged; I should like
+it of all things; but you are not strong, are you?&mdash;Miss Ross
+told us so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not particularly; I was rather knocked about by the
+Zulus, you know, and my leg gives me a good deal of trouble.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">{63}</a></span>
+I am pretty heavily handicapped&mdash;we are both in the
+same boat, are we not?&mdash;but we may as well make a fight
+for it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Someone told me,' returned Kester, in a tone of great awe,
+'that you have the Victoria Cross, Captain Burnett.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael nodded; he never cared to be questioned on the
+subject.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you let Mollie and me see it one day?' half whispered
+the boy. 'I hope you don't mind my asking you, but I have
+always so wanted to see it. I am afraid you won't tell us all
+about it, but I should dearly love to hear.'</p>
+
+<p>No one had ever induced Michael to tell that story; the
+merest allusion to his gallantry always froze him up in a
+moment&mdash;even Dr. Ross, who was his nearest confidant, had
+never heard the recital from his own lips. But for once Michael
+let himself be persuaded; Kester's boyish eagerness prevailed,
+and, to his own surprise, Michael found himself giving the
+terrible details in a cool, business-like manner.</p>
+
+<p>No wonder Kester forgot the time as he listened; the lad's
+sensitive frame thrilled with passionate envy at the narrative.
+At last he had met a hero face to face. What were those old
+Greek fellows&mdash;Ajax, or Hector or any of those gaudy
+warriors&mdash;compared with this quiet English soldier?</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, if I could only be you!' he sighed, as Michael ended
+his recital; 'if I could look back on a deed like that! How
+many lives did you save, Captain Burnett?&mdash;you told me,
+but I have forgotten. I think you are the happiest man I
+know.'</p>
+
+<p>Kester in his boyish reticence could not speak out his inmost
+thought, or he would have added: 'And the greatest and the
+grandest man I have ever seen.'</p>
+
+<p>A dim, inscrutable smile flitted over Captain Burnett's
+features.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear fellow, happiness is a purely relative term. I am
+not a great believer in happiness. A soldier without his work
+is hardly to be envied.'</p>
+
+<p>Kester was young, but his life had already taught him many
+things. He was acute enough to detect a note of bitterness in
+his new friend's voice. It said, more than his words, that
+Captain Burnett was a disappointed man. He looked at him
+wistfully for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know what you mean. You would like to be back
+with your regiment. It is very hard&mdash;very hard, of course;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">{64}</a></span>
+but you are not suffering for nothing, like me. Don't you see
+the difference?'&mdash;dropping his voice. 'I have got this pain
+to bear, and no good comes of it; it is just bearing, and
+nothing else. But you have suffered in saving other men's
+lives. It is a kind of ransom. Oh, I don't know how to
+express myself, but it must be happiness to have a memory
+like that!'</p>
+
+<p>Kester had spoken with a sort of involuntary outburst. For
+a moment Captain Burnett turned his head aside. He felt
+rebuked by this crude, boyish enthusiasm, which had gone so
+straight to the heart of things. Why was he, the grown man,
+so selfish, so impatient, when this poor lad acquiesced so
+meekly in his fate? Had Kester deserved his lot?</p>
+
+<p>'You are right,' observed Michael, in a low tone. 'One
+ought only to be thankful, and not complain.'</p>
+
+<p>And just at this moment Audrey came in, and stood on the
+threshold transfixed with amazement, until Michael rose and
+offered her a chair.</p>
+
+<p>'You here!' she gasped. 'I thought I heard voices.
+Mollie, this is my cousin, Captain Burnett. I suppose we must
+let him stay to tea.'</p>
+
+<p>Mollie gave her invitation very shyly. The poor child was
+thinking of her shabby frock, with the great rent in the skirt,
+so hastily cobbled up. The pale man with the reddish
+moustache was very formidable in Mollie's eyes. Mollie was
+sure her hand would tremble when she lifted the heavy teapot.
+She had been so looking forward to having a cosy tea with their
+dear Miss Ross, and now everything was spoilt.</p>
+
+<p>When Mollie was shy she always looked a little sulky; but
+Michael, who noticed her embarrassment, set himself to charm
+it away.</p>
+
+<p>Biddy had set the little tea-table under the acacia-tree; but
+as Mollie, blushing and awkward, commenced her arduous
+duties, she found herself assisted by the formidable Captain
+Burnett.</p>
+
+<p>Before half an hour was over Mollie thought him quite the
+nicest man that she had ever seen. He was so kind, so helpful;
+he told such interesting stories. Mollie forgot her
+Cinderella rags as she listened. Her eyes sparkled; a pretty
+colour came to her face; her rough brown hair had gleams of
+gold in it. Mollie did not look plain or awkward then.</p>
+
+<p>'Her eyes are nice, and she has a sweet voice and a
+ringing laugh,' thought Michael as he glanced at her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">{65}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>How merry they all were! What nonsense they talked, as
+they sat there watching some pigeons circling among the arches!
+The little garden was still and pleasant. Zack was stretched
+out beside them, with Booty curled up near him. Audrey was
+the first to call attention to the lateness of the hour.</p>
+
+<p>'We must go home now, Michael,' she said, in a tone of
+regret, which was loudly echoed by Mollie and Kester.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie closed the green gate after them; then she rushed
+back to Kester.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you like him&mdash;Captain Burnett, I mean?' she asked
+eagerly. 'I was so afraid of him at first; his eyes seem to
+look one through and through, even when he says nothing. But
+he is kind&mdash;very kind.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is that all you have found out about him?' returned her
+brother contemptuously. 'That is so like a girl! Who cares
+about his eyes? Do you know what he is? He is a hero&mdash;he
+has the Victoria Cross. He has saved a lot of lives. Come
+here, and I will tell you all about it; it will make your hair
+stand on end more than it does now.'</p>
+
+<p>But the story made Mollie cry, and from that hour she and
+Kester elected Captain Burnett to the position of their favourite
+hero.</p>
+
+<p>'We must tell Cyril all about him when he comes home,'
+observed Mollie, drying her eyes. 'You are right, Kester.
+Captain Burnett is quite the best, and the nicest, and the
+bravest man I have ever seen.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hear, hear!' interposed Cyril mischievously, thrusting his
+dark face out of the dining-room window. He had heard the
+whole story with a great deal of interest. And then, as Mollie
+darted towards him with a little shriek of assumed anger, he
+laughed, and sauntered out into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>'Let us do our Greek out here, old fellow,' he said, throwing
+himself down on the grass, while Zack jumped on him. 'Have
+you got some tea for me, Mollie, or have you forgotten the teapot
+in your hero-worship? How late mother is!' He hesitated
+and looked at Kester. 'She would like me to meet her; it is
+such a long, lonely walk. But no'&mdash;as a cloud stole over
+Kester's face&mdash;'perhaps she will take the omnibus. Open
+your books and let me see your day's work;' and Cyril quietly
+repressed a yawn as he took a cup of cold tea from Mollie's
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>He was tired. A walk through the dewy lanes would
+refresh him. He was in a restless mood; he wanted to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">{66}</a></span>
+alone, to stretch himself and to think&mdash;perhaps to indulge in
+some youthful dream. But he was used to combating these
+moods; he would rather bear anything than disappoint
+Kester. And then he drank off his tea without a murmur,
+and the next moment the two brothers were hard at work.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">{67}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>'I HOPE BETTER THINGS OF AUDREY'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Your manners are always under examination, and by committees
+little suspected&mdash;a police in citizen's clothes&mdash;who are awarding or denying
+you very high prizes when you least think of it.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Emerson.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt had had a successful afternoon. All the
+nicest people had been at home, and a great many pleasant
+things had been said to her; her mother had been a charming
+companion. Nevertheless, there was a slight cloud on Mrs.
+Harcourt's face as she walked through the shrubbery that led
+to her house, and the fold of care was still on her brow as she
+entered her husband's study&mdash;a pleasant room on the ground-floor,
+overlooking the garden. Mr. Harcourt was reading, but
+he put down his magazine and greeted his wife with a smile.
+He was just rising from his seat, but she prevented him by
+laying her hand on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't move, Percival; you look so comfortable. I will
+sit by you a minute. I hope I am not interrupting you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Such an interruption is only pleasant, my dear,' was the
+polite answer. 'Well, have you and Audrey had a nice afternoon?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mother came with me. Audrey had some ridiculous
+engagement with the Blakes. Percival, I am growing seriously
+uneasy at this new vagary on Audrey's part. Would you
+believe it?&mdash;she has been the whole afternoon at the Gray
+Cottage helping those children! and Michael has been there,
+too; we met them just now.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt raised his eyebrows; he was evidently surprised
+at this bit of news, though he took it with his usual
+philosophy.</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind, Jerry,' he said kindly, after a glance at his
+wife's vexed face, 'we cannot always inoculate people with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">{68}</a></span>
+our own common-sense. Audrey was always inclined to go her
+own gait.'</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine blushed; she always did when her husband
+called her Jerry. Not that she minded it from him, but if
+anyone else&mdash;one of the boys, for example&mdash;were to hear it,
+the dignified mistress of the house felt she would never have
+got over it. In her unmarried days no one had presumed to
+call her anything but Geraldine or Gage, and yet before three
+months were over her husband had invented this nickname
+for her.</p>
+
+<p>'It is no use fretting over it,' he went on in the same
+equable voice; 'you and Audrey are very different people, my
+love.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but, Percy dear, it is so trying of Audrey to take up
+the very people that mother and I were so anxious to avoid.
+I declare I am quite sorry for mother; she said, very truly,
+how is she to keep an intrusive person like Mrs. Blake at a
+distance now Audrey has struck up this violent friendship with
+her? She has even taken Michael there, for of course he
+would never go of his own accord. I am so vexed about it all;
+it has quite spoilt my afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>'Burnett was on the cricket-field a great part of the afternoon,'
+returned Mr. Harcourt. 'I saw him talking to Charrington
+and Sayers.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then she must have asked him to fetch her,' replied
+Geraldine, with an air of decision that evidently amused her
+husband; 'for Michael told us of his own accord that he had
+been having tea at the Cottage. It is really very foolish and
+incautious of Audrey, after Edith's hint, too! I wish you
+would tell her so, Percival, for she only laughs at my advice.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you think she would listen to me?'&mdash;still with the
+same amused curl of the lip.</p>
+
+<p>'I think she ought to listen to you, dear&mdash;a man of your
+experience and knowledge of the world&mdash;if you would give her
+a little of your mind. It is so absurd for a grown-up person
+to behave like an impulsive child. Michael is particular in
+some things, but he spoils Audrey dreadfully. He and father
+encourage her. It is your duty, Percival, to act a brother's
+part by her, and guide her for her own good.'</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine was evidently in earnest, and Mr. Harcourt forbore
+to smile as he answered her:</p>
+
+<p>'But if she refused to be guided by me, my dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I hope better things of Audrey,' replied Geraldine, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">{69}</a></span>
+such a solemn voice that her husband laughed outright,
+though he drew down her face to his the next minute and
+kissed it.</p>
+
+<p>'You are a good girl to believe in your husband. I don't
+envy Audrey's future spouse; he will have much to bear.
+Audrey is too philanthropic, too unpractical altogether, for a
+smooth domestic life. We are different people, as I said
+before. Come, cheer up, darling. If I find it possible to say
+a word in season, you may trust me to do so. Ah! there is
+the dressing-bell.'</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Harcourt rose and stretched himself, and began
+gathering up his papers as a hint to his wife that the subject
+was concluded.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was not so unreasonable as her sister supposed; she
+had no intention of placing herself in direct opposition to her
+family&mdash;on the contrary, she was somewhat troubled by
+Geraldine's chilling reception that afternoon. Michael had
+stopped the carriage and informed the two ladies of the manner
+in which he and Audrey had spent their afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>'We have both been having tea at the Gray Cottage,' he
+said cheerfully. 'I hope you have spent as pleasant an afternoon,
+Gage. That youngster&mdash;Kester they call him&mdash;is a bright,
+intelligent lad, and Mollie is a nice child.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, indeed!' was Geraldine's reply; 'I am afraid we are
+late, Michael, and must drive on;' and then she nodded
+to Audrey: but there was no pleasant smile on her face.</p>
+
+<p>'Gage is put out with us both,' observed Audrey, as they
+turned in at Woodcote. 'I shall be in for another lecture,
+Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had no wish to be a bugbear to her family. For
+several reasons she thought it politic to avoid the Gray Cottage
+for a day or two: Mollie must not depend on her too much.
+When her mother and Geraldine had called, and Mrs. Blake
+was on visiting terms with them, things would be on a
+pleasanter footing. She was somewhat surprised, when Sunday
+came, to find Mr. Blake was the sole representative of his
+family in the school chapel. She had looked for the widow
+and her children in the morning, and again in the afternoon,
+and as she exchanged greetings with Cyril in the courtyard
+after service she could not refrain from questioning him on the
+subject.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope Mrs. Blake has not another headache?' she asked
+rather abruptly as he came up to her, looking very handsome<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">{70}</a></span>
+and distinguished in his cap and gown&mdash;and again Audrey
+remembered her unlucky speech about the Greek god.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril seemed a little embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no, she is quite well, only a little tired; she has rather
+knocked herself up. Kester had a touch of his old pain, so I
+told him not to come.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Mollie?' But Cyril did not appear to hear the
+question.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you excuse me?' he observed the next moment,
+rather hurriedly; 'I think Mrs. Charrington is waiting for
+me&mdash;she asked me to go to the school-house to tea.'</p>
+
+<p>And as he left her, Audrey found herself obliged to join her
+sister and Mrs. Harcourt.</p>
+
+<p>'Have you many people coming to you to-morrow afternoon?'
+asked Geraldine, as they walked on together.</p>
+
+<p>'Only the Luptons and Fortescues and Mr. Owen and Herr
+Schaffmann&mdash;oh, and&mdash;I forgot, father asked Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey spoke a little absently. They were passing the
+Gray Cottage&mdash;a blind was just then raised in one of the lower
+rooms, and a small pale face peeped eagerly out at the passers-by.
+Audrey smiled and waved her hand in a friendly manner,
+and a bright answering smile lighted up the girlish face.</p>
+
+<p>'What an untidy-looking child!' remarked Geraldine carelessly;
+'is that your <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i>?' and then she continued, in a
+reproving tone: 'It is really disgraceful that none of the
+family were in chapel. Edith was right when she spoke of
+Mrs. Blake's mismanagement of her children; that poor girl
+had a most neglected look.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey did not answer; she thought it wiser to allow her
+sister's remark to pass unchallenged; she had a shrewd suspicion
+why Mollie was not in chapel&mdash;the shabby, outgrown frock had
+probably kept her at home.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor little thing!' she thought, with a fresh access of pity,
+for Mollie had certainly looked very forlorn. And then she
+turned her attention with some difficulty to what Geraldine
+was saying.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross was famed for his hospitality, and both he and
+his wife loved to gather the young people of Rutherford about
+them.</p>
+
+<p>On Monday afternoons during the summer there was always
+tennis on the Woodcote lawn; one or two of the families from
+the Hill houses, and perhaps a bachelor master or two, made
+up a couple of sets. The elder ladies liked to watch the game<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">{71}</a></span>
+or to stroll about the beautiful grounds. Mrs. Ross was an
+excellent hostess; she loved to prepare little surprises for her
+guests&mdash;iced drinks or strawberries and cream. Geraldine
+generally presided at her mother's tea-table; Audrey would be
+among the players. Tennis-parties and garden-parties of all
+kinds were common enough in Rutherford, but those at Woodcote
+certainly carried off the palm.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt had always been considered one of the best
+players, but on the Monday in question he found himself ranged
+against no mean antagonist, and he was obliged to own that
+young Blake played superbly.</p>
+
+<p>'You would have won every game this afternoon if you had
+had a better partner,' observed Audrey, as she and Cyril walked
+across the lawn. She had been playing with him the greater
+part of the afternoon, and had been much struck with his quiet
+and finished style. 'My brother-in-law has always been considered
+our champion player, but you certainly excel him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have had a great deal of practice,' returned Cyril modestly.
+'I think you are wrong about our respective powers. Mr.
+Harcourt plays exceedingly well; being so much younger, I am
+a little more agile&mdash;that is all.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and you would have beaten him this last game, but
+for me. I have played worse than usual this afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must not expect me to endorse that opinion, Miss Ross.
+I have never seen any lady play half so well. You took that
+last ball splendidly. Now we have exchanged these mutual
+compliments, may I ask you to show me the lake? Kester
+gave a tremendous description of it when he came home to-day.
+Captain Burnett put him in the punt, and he seems to have
+had a grand time altogether.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I heard all about it at luncheon.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is good of your cousin to take all this trouble,' went on
+Cyril in a lower voice, as they walked down one of the terraces.
+'I was quite taken aback when he spoke to me yesterday. I
+thought he could not be in earnest. You know he asked me
+to go up to his private room after luncheon, and we had a long
+talk until it was time to go to chapel.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will it be possible for your brother to come here two or
+three times a week, Mr. Blake?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; he can manage that short distance&mdash;at least, when
+he is pretty well; and the change will be so good for him. It
+is quite a load off my mind to know he will learn mathematics
+as well as Greek and Latin. You have no idea, Miss Ross,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">{72}</a></span>
+how clever that boy is. If he had only my opportunities, he
+would beat me hollow in no time. I tell my mother so, but
+she will not believe it; but she thinks with me that it is
+awfully good of your cousin to interest himself in Kester.'</p>
+
+<p>'It will be a godsend to Michael,' returned Audrey. 'You
+see, my cousin's health is so bad that he cannot employ himself,
+and he is debarred from so much enjoyment. He helps my
+father a good deal with the boys when he is here, but sometimes
+the noise is too much for him. It will suit him far better to
+study quietly with your brother. Of course, he meant to be
+kind&mdash;he is always doing good to someone or other&mdash;but this
+time the kindness will benefit himself. He quite enjoyed his
+morning. He told me so in a tone as though he meant it.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Kester looked ever so much brighter. What comfortable
+quarters Captain Burnett has! I had no idea he had a
+private sitting-room, and he tells me he has rooms in town as
+well.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but we do not let him use them oftener than we can
+help. It is so dull for him to be alone. My father is anxious
+for him to live altogether at Woodcote&mdash;he thinks the Rutherford
+air suits him so much better than that of town; but
+Michael cannot be persuaded to give up his rooms. I tell him
+it is all his pride, and that he wishes to be independent of us.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is your father's cousin, you say?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and he is just like his son,' returned Audrey, wondering
+why Mr. Blake looked at her so intently. 'You know, I
+told you that we looked upon Michael as our own brother.
+Here we are at the pond&mdash;or lake, as we prefer to call it&mdash;and
+there are the swans, Snowflake and Eiderdown, as I have
+christened them.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is a charming spot,' observed Cyril, leaning over the
+fence to look at the beautiful creatures. He was quite unaware,
+as he lounged there, that he added another picturesque effect
+to the landscape, his bright blue coat and peaked cap making
+a spot of colour against Audrey's white gown. 'So that is the
+island where Kester found the forget-me-nots for Mollie? It
+looks as though one could carry it off bodily in one's arms,' he
+continued, after a reflective pause.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake, I will not permit such remarks,' returned Audrey,
+laughing. 'I have often paddled myself about the lake. At
+least, it is deep enough to drown one. Now tell me how
+Mollie is.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie is inconsolable because she has not seen you for two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">{73}</a></span>
+whole days. She spent most of the morning at the window in
+the hope of seeing you pass.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it is a fact, I assure you. My mother told me so
+herself. Will there be any chance of your looking in to-morrow,
+Miss Ross? I am going back now, and I am sure such a
+message would make Mollie happy for the remainder of the
+evening.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey smiled.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not think I will send the message, Mr. Blake. I half
+thought of calling on some friends of mine who live a little way
+out of Rutherford, but if I have time&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>She paused, not quite knowing how to finish her sentence.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I will say nothing about it,' he returned quickly.
+'You have been far too good to us already. Mollie must not
+presume on your kindness;' and then he took up his racket.</p>
+
+<p>'Why are you leaving us so early, Mr. Blake? There is
+surely time for another game?'</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks; I must not stop any longer now. My mother
+asked me to take her for a walk, and, as Kester can do without
+me this evening, I promised that I would.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you will take Mollie? There is such a pretty walk
+across the fields to Everdeen Wood, if Mrs. Blake does not
+mind a few stiles. Mollie will not, I am sure.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think Mollie will prefer to stay with Kester,' he replied
+quickly. 'I am sorry to leave so early, Miss Ross, but one
+does not like to disappoint other people.'</p>
+
+<p>'I begin to think you are one of the unselfish ones,' thought
+Audrey, as she gave him her hand. Then aloud: 'You must
+come to us next Monday, Mr. Blake, for I am sure my brother-in-law
+will want his revenge. Oh, there is Booty, so of course
+his master is not far off. I will go and meet him.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she nodded to Cyril, and turned off into a side-path
+just as Captain Burnett came in sight.</p>
+
+<p>'Are they still playing, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'No. Harcourt wants to be off; he and Gage are to dine
+at the Fortescues', so they have agreed to break up earlier.
+Why is Blake leaving us so soon? Your father proposed that
+he should be asked to dinner.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think he would be persuaded,' she replied, wishing
+that she had not taken him so easily at his word. 'He has
+promised to take his mother for a walk. He is really a very
+good son. Most young men care only about their own pleasure.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">{74}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I think I like him,' returned Michael, in his slow, considering
+tone. 'We had a smoke together yesterday up in my
+room, and I confess he interested me. He seems to feel his
+responsibility so with respect to that poor boy. He was very
+grateful to me for my proposed help, and said so in a frank,
+manly fashion that somehow pleased me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad you like him, Michael!' and Audrey's tone
+expressed decided pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, we shall hit it off very well, I expect; but I daresay
+we shall not see very much of each other. He goes in for
+cricket, and makes tremendous scores, I hear, and the Hill
+houses will soon monopolise him. He is too good-looking a
+fellow not to be a favourite with the ladies&mdash;eh, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure I don't know,' returned Audrey, who could be a
+trifle dense when she chose. 'I do not think Mr. Blake is a
+lady's man, if that is what you mean. Don't you detest the
+genus, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'Do I not!' was the expressive answer; and then he went
+on: 'I am quite of your opinion that Blake is a nice, gentlemanly
+fellow; but I think that brother of his is still more
+interesting. Poor little chap! he has plenty of brains; he is
+as sharp as some fellows of nineteen or twenty. Blake is clever
+enough, but one of these days Kester will make his mark. He
+has a perfect thirst for knowledge. I drew him out this morning,
+for we only made a pretence at work. You should have heard
+him talk.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is exactly his brother's opinion,' returned Audrey;
+and she repeated Cyril's words.</p>
+
+<p>Michael was evidently struck by them.</p>
+
+<p>'He seems very fond of him, and, for the matter of that, the
+poor boy is devoted to his brother. I suppose that accident has
+made a link between them. I do not know that I ever took so
+much interest in your <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;s</i> before. By the bye, what has
+become of the O'Briens, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am going to see them to-morrow. I know what that
+inquiry means, Michael. You think that I am always so much
+taken up with new people that I forget my old friends; but
+you are wrong.' And then she added, a little reproachfully:
+'That you of all people should accuse me of fickleness!'</p>
+
+<p>Captain Burnett smiled a little gravely.</p>
+
+<p>'You are investing my words with too large a meaning. I
+do not think you in the least fickle; it is only your headlong
+sympathies that carry you away.' But as Audrey looked a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">{75}</a></span>
+little mystified over this speech, he continued: 'I would not
+have you neglect Mr. O'Brien for the world. I only wish
+Vineyard Cottage were a mile or two nearer, and I would often
+smoke a pipe in that earwiggy bower of his. I have a profound
+respect for Thomas O'Brien. I love a man who lives up to his
+profession, and is not above his business. A retired tradesman
+who tries to forget he was ever behind the counter, and who
+goes through life aping the manners of gentlefolk, is a poor sort
+of body in my eyes; he is neither fish, fowl, nor good red
+herring. Now Mr. O'Brien is as proud of being a corn-chandler
+as'&mdash;he paused for a simile&mdash;'as our drummer-boy was of
+belonging to the British army.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor old man! he has seen a peck of trouble, as he calls it.'</p>
+
+<p>'There, you see,' interrupting her delightedly, 'his very
+language borrows its most powerful imagery from his past
+belongings! Do you or I, Audrey, in our wildest and most
+despairing moments, ever talk of a peck of trouble? Depend
+upon it, my dear, when Thomas made that speech, he was
+among his bins again; in his mind's eye he was measuring out
+his oats and beans. I think I hear him repeating again what
+he once said to me: "It is such a clean, wholesome business,
+Captain. I often dream I am back in the shop again, with my
+wife laying the tea in the back-parlour. I can feel the grain
+slithering between my fingers, and even the dropping of the
+peas on the counter out of the overfilled bags is as plain as
+possible. Mat always did his work so awkwardly."'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think he has ever got over the loss of his wife,
+Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course not. Is he likely to do so, with Mrs. Baxter's
+lugubrious countenance opposite him morning, noon, and night?
+I don't wonder her husband ran away from her; it would take
+a deal of principle to put up with such a trying woman.'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, I will not have you so severe on my friends! Mrs.
+Baxter is a very good woman, and she takes great care of her
+father. We cannot all be gifted with good spirits. Poor
+Priscilla Baxter is a disappointed woman.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael shrugged his shoulders, but he was spared making
+any reply, as just then they encountered Geraldine and her
+husband. They were evidently looking for Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you going, Gage?' observed Audrey serenely. 'I was
+just coming up to the house to wish you good-bye, only Michael
+detained me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought you were with Mr. Blake,' returned her sister, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">{76}</a></span>
+a puzzled tone. 'I wish you would come up to luncheon to-morrow&mdash;I
+have scarcely spoken two words to you this afternoon.
+Edith is coming.'</p>
+
+<p>'It will be a pity to interrupt your <i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i>,' returned
+Audrey pleasantly; 'Mrs. Bryce has always so much to say,
+and she comes so seldom.' And, as her sister's face clouded,
+she continued: 'I will run up for an hour on Wednesday, but
+I really cannot neglect Mr. O'Brien any longer&mdash;he will have
+been looking for me day after day.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, if you are going to Vineyard Cottage,' in a mollified
+tone that Audrey perfectly understood, 'you will have tea there,
+of course.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think Mrs. Baxter would let me come away without
+my tea?' returned Audrey quickly.</p>
+
+<p>She was inwardly somewhat annoyed at this questioning.
+She had meant to go to the Gray Cottage on her way; but now
+she must give that up: Mollie must watch for her a little
+longer. Perhaps she could go to Hillside in the morning and
+keep her afternoon free. And as she came to this conclusion,
+she bade her sister an affectionate good-bye. But as Geraldine
+took her husband's arm in the steep shrubbery walk, she said,
+in a dissatisfied tone:</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad we found her with Michael; but, all the same,
+she and Mr. Blake were partners all the afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Geraldine,' returned Mr. Harcourt with assumed
+solemnity, 'I think Audrey may be trusted to manage her own
+little affairs&mdash;she is two-and-twenty, is she not? When you
+have daughters of your own, my love, I am quite sure you will
+manage them excellently, and no young man will have a chance
+of speaking to them; but with Audrey it is another matter.'
+And then, in a tragic undertone: 'Have you forgotten, wife
+mine, a certain afternoon when you did me the honour of playing
+with me three whole sets, and then we cooled ourselves down
+by the lake, until your father hunted us out?'</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine pressed her husband's arm gently; she remembered
+that afternoon well, and all Percival had said to her&mdash;they had
+just come to an understanding when her father interrupted them.
+For one moment her face softened at the sweet remembrance,
+and then she roused herself to remonstrate.</p>
+
+<p>'But, Percy dear, this is utterly different. Audrey would
+never dream of falling in love with Mr. Blake. Fancy a girl
+in her position encouraging the attentions of a junior master.
+No, indeed; I was only afraid of a little flirtation. Of course<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">{77}</a></span>
+Audrey declares she never flirts, but she has such a way with
+her&mdash;she is too kind in her manner sometimes.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is to be hoped that she will not break as many hearts
+as a certain young person I know&mdash;eh, Jerry?' and Geraldine
+blushed and held her peace.</p>
+
+<p>She never liked to be reminded of the unlucky wooers
+who had shaken off the dust of Woodcote so sorrowfully.
+As for Mr. Harcourt, he delighted in these proofs of conquests.
+Geraldine had not been easy to win&mdash;she had given her lover
+plenty of trouble; but she was his now, and, as he often told
+himself, no man had ever been more fortunate in his choice.
+For Mr. Harcourt, in spite of his delight in teasing, was very
+deeply in love with his beautiful wife.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">{78}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>MAT</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Sympathy or no sympathy, a man's love should no more fail towards
+his fellows than that love which spent itself on disciples who altogether
+misunderstood it, like the rain which falls on just and unjust alike.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mark
+Rutherford.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Vineyard Cottage, where the retired corn-chandler had elected
+to spend the remnant of his days, was no pretentious stucco
+villa; it was a real old-fashioned cottage, with a big roomy porch
+well covered with honeysuckle and sweet yellow jasmine, and a
+sitting-room on either side of the door, with one small-paned
+window, which was certainly not filled with plate-glass. It was
+a snug, bowery little place, and the fresh dimity curtains at the
+upper windows, and the stand of blossoming plants in the little
+passage, gave it a cheerful and inviting aspect. The tiny lawn
+was smooth as velvet, and a row of tall white lilies, flanked
+with fragrant lavender, filled up the one narrow bed that ran
+by the side of the privet hedge.</p>
+
+<p>As Audrey unlatched the little gate she had a glimpse of
+Mr. O'Brien in his shirt-sleeves. He was smoking in the porch,
+and so busily engaged in reading his paper that Audrey's light
+tread failed to arouse him, until a plaintive and fretful voice
+from within made him turn his head.</p>
+
+<p>'Father, aren't you ashamed to be sitting there in your
+shirt-sleeves when Miss Ross has come to call? And it is 'most
+four o'clock, too&mdash;pretty near about tea-time.'</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross&mdash;you don't say so, Prissy!' returned Mr. O'Brien,
+thrusting an arm hastily into the coat that his daughter was
+holding out in an aggressively reproachful manner. 'How do
+you do, Miss Ross? Wait a moment&mdash;wait a moment, until I
+can shake hands with you. Now, then, the other arm, Prissy.
+You are as welcome as flowers in May&mdash;and as blooming too,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">{79}</a></span>
+isn't she, Prissy?' and Mr. O'Brien enforced his compliment
+with a grasp of the hand that made Audrey wince.</p>
+
+<p>'I expected a scolding&mdash;I did indeed,' laughed Audrey,
+'instead of this very kind welcome. It is so long since my last
+visit; is it not, Mr. O'Brien?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, ma'am, tell the truth and shame the devil; that's
+my motto. I'll not deny that Prissy and I were wondering
+at your absence. "What's become of Miss Ross?" she said
+to me only to-day at dinner, "for she has not been near us
+for an age."'</p>
+
+<p>'And I was right, father, and it is an age since Miss Ross
+honoured us with a visit,' replied his daughter in the plaintive
+tone that seemed natural to her. 'It was just five weeks ago,
+for Susan Larkins had come up about the bit of washing her
+mother wished to have, so I remember the day well.'</p>
+
+<p>'Five weeks!' responded Audrey with a shake of her head;
+'what a memory you have, Mrs. Baxter, and, dear me, how ill
+you are looking; is there anything the matter?' looking from
+one to the other with kindly scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. O'Brien and his daughter were complete contrasts to
+each other. He was a stout, gray-haired man with a pleasant,
+genial countenance, though it was not without its lines of care.
+Mrs. Baxter, on the contrary, had a long melancholy face and
+anxious blue eyes. Her black gown clung to her thin figure in
+limp folds; her features were not bad, and a little liveliness
+and expression would have made her a good-looking woman;
+but her dejected air and want of colouring detracted from her
+comeliness, and of late years her voice had grown peevish as
+well as plaintive, as though her troubles had been too heavy
+for her. Audrey had a sincere respect for her; but she
+certainly wished that Mrs. Baxter took a less lugubrious view
+of life. At times she would try to infuse a little of her own
+cheerfulness; but she soon found that Mrs. Baxter was too
+closely wrapped in her melancholy. In her own language, she
+preferred the house of mourning to the house of feasting.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I hope there is nothing fresh the matter!' repeated
+Audrey, whose clear-sighted sympathy was never at fault.</p>
+
+<p>She thought that Mr. O'Brien's genial face looked a shade
+graver than usual.</p>
+
+<p>'Come and sit down, Miss Ross, and I will be hurrying the
+girl with the tea,' observed Mrs. Baxter mournfully, for she
+was never too lachrymose to be hospitable, and though she shed
+tears on slight occasions, she was always disposed to press her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">{80}</a></span>
+hot buttered cakes on her guests, and any refusal to taste her
+good cheer would have grievously wounded her bruised sensibilities.
+'Father, take Miss Ross into the best parlour while
+I help Hannah a bit.'</p>
+
+<p>And as Mr. O'Brien laid aside his pipe and led the way into
+the house, Audrey followed him, nothing loath.</p>
+
+<p>'Joe's been troubling Priscilla again,' he observed, as
+Audrey seated herself on the little horsehair sofa beside the
+open window, and Buff, a great tortoise-shell cat, jumped uninvited
+on her lap and began purring loudly.</p>
+
+<p>'Joe!' repeated Audrey in a shocked voice; she knew very
+well who was meant. Joe was the ne'er-do-well of a son-in-law
+whose iniquities had transformed the young and comely
+Priscilla into the meagre and colourless Mrs. Baxter. 'He has
+no right to trouble her!' she went on indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>'He has been worrying for money again,' returned Mr.
+O'Brien, ruffling up his gray hair in a discontented fashion;
+'he says he is hard up. But that is only one of Joe's lies; he
+tells lies by the peck. He had a good coat on, and looked as
+thriving as possible, and I know from Atkinson, who has been
+in Leeds, that he is a traveller to some house in the wine trade.
+And yet he comes here, the bullying rascal! fretting the poor
+lass to skin and bone with pretending he can take the law of
+her for not living with him, and that after all his ill-usage.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so sorry,' returned Audrey, and her tone said more
+than her words. 'He is a bad man, a thoroughly heartless and
+bad man&mdash;everyone knows that; and she must never go back
+to him. I hope you told him so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, I did,' with a touch of gruffness; 'I found him
+bullying, and poor Prissy crying her eyes out, and looking
+ready to drop&mdash;for she is afraid of him&mdash;and I just took down
+my big stick. "Joe," I said, as he began blustering about her
+being his true and lawful wife, "you just drop that and listen
+to me: if she is your wife, she is my daughter, our only one&mdash;for
+never chick nor child had we beside Priscilla&mdash;and she is
+going to stop along with me, law or no law."</p>
+
+<p>'"I'll claim my own. There's two to that bargain, father-in-law,"
+he says, with a sneer; for, you see, he was turning a bit
+nasty.</p>
+
+<p>'"And you'll claim something else as well, son-in-law!" I
+replied, getting a good grip of the stick; for my blood was up,
+and I would have felled him to the ground with all the pleasure
+in life, only the girl got between us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">{81}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'"No, father&mdash;no violence!" she screeches out. "Don't
+make things worse for poor, unhappy me. Joe is not worth
+your getting into trouble on his account. Go along with
+you, Joe, and Heaven forgive you; but horses wouldn't drag
+me under your roof again after the way you have treated me."</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I suppose we made it too hot for him, ma'am, for he
+soon beat a retreat. Joe was always a coward. I would have
+hurried him out with a kick, but I thought it better to be
+prudent; and Priscilla went and had a fit of hysterics in her own
+room, and she has been looking mortal bad, poor lass! ever since.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish we could save her these trying scenes, Mr. O'Brien;
+they get on her nerves.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, that is what her mother said! "Prissy will never
+have a day's health if we can't hinder Joe from coming to
+plague her"&mdash;I remember my Susan saying that. Why, it
+was half for Prissy's sake we gave up the shop. "What is
+the good of filling our purse, Tom, when we have plenty for
+ourselves and Priscilla!" she was always saying to me. But
+there, I was fond of the shop&mdash;it is no use denying it&mdash;and it
+takes a special sort of education to fit one for idleness. Even
+now&mdash;would you believe it, ma'am?&mdash;I have a sort of longing
+to finger the oats and peas again.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you are very fond of your cottage and your garden,
+Mr. O'Brien. Captain Burnett says it is the prettiest little
+place about here.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, I have been forgetting my manners, and I have never
+asked after the Captain, though he is a prime favourite of mine.
+Oh yes, he always has his little joke. "What will you sell it
+for, O'Brien, just as it stands? Name your own price." Well, it
+is a snug little place; and if only my little woman were here
+and I had news of Mat&mdash;&mdash;' And here Mr. O'Brien pushed
+his hand through his gray hair again, and sighed as he looked
+out on his row of lilies.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey sat still in sympathising silence. She knew how
+her old friend loved to unburden himself. He talked to no one
+else as he did to this girl&mdash;not even to the Captain. He liked
+to enlarge in his simple way on his old happy life, when Prissy
+was young and he and his wife thought handsome Joe Baxter a
+grand lover for their girl, with his fine figure and soft, wheedling
+tongue.</p>
+
+<p>'But we were old enough to know better&mdash;we were a couple
+of fools, of course; I know that now,' he would say. 'But he
+just talked us over&mdash;Joe is a rare hand at talking even now.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">{82}</a></span>
+He can use fine words; he has learnt it in his business. I think
+our worst time was when Prissy's baby died and she began to
+droop, and in her weakness she let it all out to her mother. I
+remember my little woman coming into the shop that day, with
+the tears running down her face. "Tom," she says, "what
+have we ever done to be so punished? Joe is treating Prissy
+like a brute, and my poor girl's heart is broken." Dear, dear!
+how I wanted Mat then!'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey knew all about this Mat&mdash;at least, the little there was
+to know. One day, soon after Mr. O'Brien had lost his wife, and
+she had found him sitting alone in the porch, he had begun
+talking to her of his own accord of a young brother whom he
+called Mat, but to no one else had he ever mentioned his name.
+Audrey had been much touched and surprised by this confidence,
+and from time to time Mr. O'Brien had continued to speak of
+him, until she was in possession of the main facts.</p>
+
+<p>Thomas O'Brien had lost his parents early, and his brothers
+and sisters had died in infancy, with the exception of the
+youngest, Matthew, or Mat, as he was generally called. There
+was so much difference between their ages that Mat was quite
+a plaything and pet to his elder brother. From all accounts,
+he was a bright, engaging little fellow, and developed unusual
+capacity.</p>
+
+<p>'He was a cut above us, and people took notice of him, and
+that spoiled him,' observed Mr. O'Brien one day.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey, piecing the fragments of conversation together,
+could picture the clever, handsome lad learning his lessons
+in the little back parlour, while honest Tom served in the shop.
+But Mat was not always so studious: he would be sliding with
+the Rector's boys, or helping them to make a snow man; sometimes
+he would be having tea at the Rectory, or with his
+master, or even with the curates. One of the curates was
+musical, and Mat had an angelic voice. One could imagine the
+danger to the precocious, clever boy, and how perhaps, on his
+return, he would gibe a little in his impertinent boyish fashion
+at thickheaded, clumsy Tom among his cornbins and sacks of
+split peas.</p>
+
+<p>Mat did not wish to be a corn-chandler. When Tom married
+the daughter of a neighbouring baker, Mat was heard to mutter
+to one of his intimates that Tom might have looked higher for
+a wife. He grew a little discontented after that, and gave the
+young couple plenty of trouble until he got his way&mdash;a bad
+way, too&mdash;and went off to seek his fortunes in London.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">{83}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Tom missed the lad sadly; even his Susan's rosy cheeks
+and good-humour failed to console him for a while. Not until
+Prissy made her appearance&mdash;and in clamorous baby fashion
+wheedled her way into her father's affections&mdash;did his sore
+heart cease to regret the young brother.</p>
+
+<p>Susan used to talk to her husband in her sensible way.</p>
+
+<p>'It is no use your fretting, Tom,' she would say; 'boys
+will be boys, and anything is better for Mat than hanging
+about here with his hands in his pockets and doing nothing
+but gossip with the customers. He was growing into idle ways.
+It was a shame for a big fellow like Mat to be living upon his
+brother; it is far better for him to be thrown on himself to
+work for his bread,' finished Susan, rocking her baby, for she
+was a shrewd little person in her way.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't like to think of Mat alone in London,' returned
+Tom slowly; but as he looked into his wife's innocent eyes
+he forbore to utter all his thoughts aloud. Tom was old
+enough to know something of the world; he could guess at the
+pitfalls that stretched before the lad's unwary feet. Mat was
+young, barely eighteen, his very gifts of beauty and cleverness
+might lead him into trouble.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish I had him here,' muttered Tom, as he went off
+to serve a customer. 'Peterborough is a better place for
+him than London;' for they were living at Peterborough
+then.</p>
+
+<p>Tom cheered up presently, when Mat wrote one of his
+flourishing letters; he was a fine letter-writer. He was in
+luck's way, he told Tom, and had fallen on his feet; at his
+first application he had obtained a clerkship in some business
+house, and his employer had taken a fancy to him.</p>
+
+<p>'I feel like Dick Whittington,' wrote Mat, in his happy,
+boastful way; 'all night long the bells were saying to me,
+"Turn again, turn again, Mat O'Brien, for fortune is before
+you." I could hear them in my dreams&mdash;and then the next
+morning came a letter from Mr. Turner. Dear old chap, you
+won't bother about me any more, for I mean to stick to my work
+like a galley slave. Give my love to Susan, and kiss the little
+one&mdash;couldn't you have found a better name than that Puritan
+Priscilla, you foolish Tom?'&mdash;and so on. Audrey once read
+that letter, and a dozen more of the same type; she thought
+them very affectionate and clever. Every now and then there
+were graphic descriptions of a day's amusement or sight-seeing.
+What was it they lacked? Audrey could never answer that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">{84}</a></span>
+question, but she laid them down with a dim feeling of dissatisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>Mat used to run down for a day or two when business
+permitted, and take possession of his shabby little room under
+the roof. How happy honest Tom would be on these occasions!
+how he would chuckle to himself as he saw his customers&mdash;female
+customers especially&mdash;cast sidelong glances at the handsome
+dark-haired youth who lounged by the door!</p>
+
+<p>'Old Mrs. Stevenson took him for a gentleman,' Tom
+remarked to Susan once, rubbing his hands over the joke.
+'Mat is so well set up, and wears such a good coat; just look
+at his boots!&mdash;and his shirts are ever so much finer than mine;
+he looks like a young lord in his Sunday best,' went on Tom,
+who admired his young brother with every fibre of his heart.</p>
+
+<p>Mat was quite aware of the sensation he made among his
+old friends and neighbours; he liked to feel his own importance.
+He came pretty frequently at first; he was tolerant of Susan's
+homeliness and sisterly advice, he took kindly to Prissy, and
+brought her a fine coral necklace to wear on her fat dimpled
+neck; but after a year or two he came less often.</p>
+
+<p>'Leave him alone,' Susan would say when Tom grumbled
+to her over his pipe of an evening; 'Mat has grown too fine
+for the shop; nothing pleased him last time. He wanted
+napkins with his food because of his moustache, and he complained
+that his bed was so hard he could not sleep on it. It
+is easy to see that our homely ways do not suit him. I wish
+your heart were not set on him so much, Tom; it is thankless
+work to cling to a person who wants to get rid of his belongings.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nay, Susan, you are too hard on the lad,' her husband
+remonstrated; 'Mat will never cut us&mdash;he has an affectionate
+heart. He is only having his fling, as lads, even the best of
+them, will at times. By and by he will settle down, and then
+we shall see more of him.'</p>
+
+<p>But in spite of Tom's faith, that time never came. By
+and by Mat wrote with a greater flourish than ever.</p>
+
+<p>'Wish me joy, my dear Susan and Tom,' he wrote, 'for I
+am going to be married, and to the prettiest and the dearest
+girl in the world. Just fancy, Tom, her uncle is a Dean!
+what do you think of your brother Mat now? "Turn again,
+turn again, Mat O'Brien"&mdash;that is what the bells said to me,
+and, by Jove! they were right. Haven't I had a rise this
+Christmas?&mdash;and now my dear little Olive has promised to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">{85}</a></span>
+take me for better or worse. Oh, Tom, you should just see
+her&mdash;she is such a darling! and I am the luckiest fellow in
+the world to get her! I can see Susan shaking her head and
+saying in her wise way that I am young to take the cares of
+life on my shoulders; but when a fellow is head over heels in
+love, he cannot stop to balance arguments. And after all, we
+are not so imprudent, for when the Dean dies, and he is an old
+man, Olive will have a pretty penny of her own. So wish
+me joy, dear Tom, and send me your blessing.'</p>
+
+<p>Tom fairly wept over this letter; he carried it about with
+him and read it at intervals during the day.</p>
+
+<p>'If only she makes the lad happy!' he said to Susan. 'To
+think of our Mat marrying a gentlewoman, for of course a Dean's
+niece is that;' and Susan, whose knowledge of the world was
+small, supposed so too.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was hoping that Mat would bring his young wife
+down to receive his brotherly congratulations in person; but
+there was always some excuse for the delay. Olive was
+delicate; she could not travel; Mat could not leave her to
+come himself, and so on. Tom never doubted these excuses;
+he even made his little joke about the lad becoming a family
+man; but Susan, who was sharper than her husband, read
+between the lines. Mat was ashamed of bringing the Dean's
+niece down to see the shop; it was possible, but here Susan
+almost shuddered at the awfulness of the thought, that he
+might not have told his wife that he had a brother.</p>
+
+<p>'Mat is as weak as water, with all his cleverness,' she said
+to herself; 'if he has not told her yet, he will put it off from
+day to day. There is nothing easier than procrastination if
+you once give in to it. Few people speak the truth like my
+Tom, bless him!'</p>
+
+<p>Susan would not grieve her husband by hinting at these
+suspicions, though they grew stronger as time went on. Mat
+never brought his wife to see them; he seldom wrote, unless
+to tell them of the birth of a child, and then his letters were
+brief and unsatisfactory. Tom once wrote and asked him if
+he were happy, 'for somehow Susan and I have got into our
+heads that things are not quite square,' wrote the simple fellow.
+'Do come and let us have a chat together over our pipes.
+Prissy is getting quite a big girl; you would hardly know her
+now.'</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps Mat was touched by this persistent kindness on
+his brother's part, for he answered that letter by return of post.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">{86}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'One must not expect too much happiness in this crooked
+old world,' he wrote; 'but you and Susan are such old-fashioned
+people. Olive and I have as much enjoyment of
+life as ordinary folk. We quarrel sometimes and make it up
+again. I was never a very patient mortal&mdash;eh, old chap?&mdash;and
+one's temper does not improve with age.' And then after
+a little talk about the children, who had been ill with scarlatina,
+the letter wound up by begging the loan of a five-pound note.</p>
+
+<p>Tom did not show this letter to Susan. For the first time
+in his life he kept a secret from the wife of his bosom. He
+put two five-pound notes in an envelope, and sent them with
+his love to Olive and the children. A pang of remorse must
+have crossed Mat's heart at this fresh act of kindness; but
+though he acknowledged the gift with the utmost gratitude,
+he neither came nor wrote again for a long time.</p>
+
+<p>Some time after that Tom took an odd notion in his head:
+he would go up to London and see Mat and his wife and
+children; he was just hankering for a sight of the lad, as he told
+Susan. To be sure, Mat had never invited him&mdash;never hinted at
+such a thing in his letters; he could not be sure of his welcome.
+Susan tried to dissuade him, but to no purpose; for once Tom
+was deaf to his little woman's advice. He left her in charge
+of the shop one fine spring morning and started for London
+and Bayswater, where Mat lived.</p>
+
+<p>He came back earlier than Susan expected, and there was
+a sad look in his eyes as he sat down and filled his pipe.
+Susan forbore to question him at first; she got him some supper
+and a jug of the best ale, and presently he began to talk of his
+own accord:</p>
+
+<p>'There were other people living in No. 23 Mortimer
+Terrace. The O'Briens had left more than a year ago, and no
+one knew where they were. Fancy Mat leaving and never
+giving me his address!' finished Tom with an air of deep
+depression.</p>
+
+<p>He was evidently much wounded at this want of brotherly
+confidence.</p>
+
+<p>'But surely you know his business address, dear?' Susan
+asked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>No; Tom did not know even that. He reminded her that
+Mat had long ago left his old employers, and had set up for
+himself; but Tom did not know where his office was.</p>
+
+<p>'I always wrote to his private address, you know, Susan,' he
+went on. 'Mat told me that no one ever opened his letters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">{87}</a></span>
+but himself; but how am I to find him out now if he chooses
+to hide himself from his only brother?'</p>
+
+<p>And though Tom said no more, he moped for many a day
+after that fruitless expedition.</p>
+
+<p>By and by the truth leaked out&mdash;Mat was in trouble, and in
+such trouble that no fraternal help could avail him. One awful
+day, a day that turned Tom's hair gray with horror and anguish,
+he heard that Mat&mdash;handsome, brilliant Mat&mdash;was in a felon's
+cell, condemned to penal servitude for a long term of years. In
+a moment of despair he had forged the name of one of his so-called
+friends, and by this terrible act had obtained possession
+of a large sum of money.</p>
+
+<p>Tom's anguish at this news was not to be described; he
+cried like a child, and Susan vainly tried to comfort him.</p>
+
+<p>'My father's name,' he kept repeating&mdash;'he has disgraced
+our honest name! I will never forgive him; I will have
+nothing more to do with him&mdash;he has covered us all with
+shame!'</p>
+
+<p>And then the next moment he relented at the thought of
+Mat, beaten down and miserable, and perhaps repentant, in his
+wretched cell.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">{88}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>PRISCILLA BAXTER</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'How many people are busy in this world in gathering together a
+handful of thorns to sit upon!'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Jeremy Taylor.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Audrey never forgot the day when she first heard this sad
+story. It was on a winter's afternoon, and she and Mr. O'Brien
+were alone in the cottage. She remembered how the setting
+sun threw ruddy streaks across the snow, and how the light of
+the fire beside which they sat later on in the twilight illumined
+the low room and flashed out on the privet hedge, now a mass
+of sparkling icicles. She and Geraldine had driven into Brail,
+and by and by the carriage was coming back to fetch her.</p>
+
+<p>They had been talking of Mat, and Mr. O'Brien had shown
+her some of his letters; and then, all at once, his face had
+grown very white and troubled, and in a few husky sentences
+he had told her the rest of the story; and as Audrey listened
+there was a gleam of a teardrop on her long lashes.</p>
+
+<p>'But you went to see him&mdash;surely you went to see him?'
+she asked tremulously, as he came to a sudden pause; but he
+shook his gray head very sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>'I would have gone, ay, willingly, when my anger had burnt
+out a bit. I just hungered to see the poor lad&mdash;he was still a
+lad to me&mdash;and to shake him by the hand; for all he had done,
+he was still Mat, you see; but he would not let me: he begged
+and prayed of me not to come.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, that was cruel!'</p>
+
+<p>'Nay, he meant no unkindness; but he was pretty nearly
+crazed, poor chap! I have the letter now that he wrote to
+me; the chaplain sent it, but no eye but mine must ever see it.
+I have written it down in my will that it is to be buried with
+me: "Don't come unless you wish me to do something desperate,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">{89}</a></span>
+Tom; I think if I saw your honest face in my cell I should
+just make away with myself. No, no, dear old chap; let me
+dree my weird, as Susan used to say. I have shamed you all,
+and my heart is broken; try to forget that you ever had a
+brother Mat." Eh, they were desperate words for a man to
+write; but I do not doubt that he meant them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did he mention his wife and children?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, never a word of them. I wrote to him more than
+once, but he never answered me. He was such a long way off,
+you see; they send them to Dartmoor now. As far as I know,
+Mat may be dead and buried. Well, it is hard lines, and I
+have known a peck of troubles in my time. There, you know
+it all, Miss Ross; it beats me why I've told you, for no one in
+the world knows it but Prissy&mdash;you have drawn it out of me
+somehow; you've got a hearty way with you that reminds me
+of my Susan, and I never had but that one secret from her&mdash;when
+I sent Mat the two five-pound notes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your story is safe with me, my dear old friend,' returned
+Audrey, laying her hand on his arm; 'you must never regret
+telling me. I have heard so many sad histories&mdash;people always
+tell me their troubles; they know they can trust me. I am
+fond of talking,' went on Audrey, in her earnest way, 'but I
+have never betrayed a person's confidence; I have never once
+repeated anything that my friends have told me&mdash;their troubles
+are as sacred to me as my own would be.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am bound to believe you,' returned Mr. O'Brien, looking
+thoughtfully at the girlish face and steadfast eyes; 'Prissy says
+it always gives her a comfortable feeling to talk out her troubles
+to you. It is a gift, I am thinking; but you are young to have
+it. Did I ever tell you, Miss Ross, what Susan said to me
+when she was dying?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I am sure you never told me that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Prissy had gone to lie down, and I was alone with
+Susan. It was the room above us where she died. I was
+sitting by the fire, thinking she was having a fine sleep, and
+would surely be better for it, when she suddenly spoke my name:
+"Tom," she said, "I know just what you are thinking about:
+you have got Mat in your mind." Well, I could not deny that,
+and Susan was always so sharp in finding me out; and then
+she begged me to sit by her a bit: "For you are very low about
+everything, dear Tom," she went on; "you've got to lose me,
+and there's Prissy, poor girl! with her bad husband; and when
+you have nothing better to do you think about Mat. Sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">{90}</a></span>
+I wish you were back in the shop, when I see you looking at
+the fire in that way."</p>
+
+<p>"I was only wondering whether I should ever see the poor
+lad again," I returned, with a sigh; "that was all my thought,
+Susan."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure you will see him again," she replied very
+earnestly, with a kind of solemnity in her voice; "I don't
+know why I think so, Tom, but they say the dying are very
+clear-sighted, and it is strong upon me that Mat will one day
+seek you out." Now, wasn't that strange, Miss Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' replied Audrey, 'she may have spoken the truth;
+while there is life there is hope. Do not be disheartened, my
+dear friend; you have had great troubles, but God has helped
+you to bear them, and you are not without your blessings.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's true,' he returned, looking round him; 'I would
+sooner live in this cottage than in a palace. I don't believe,
+as the Captain says, there is a prettier place anywhere. I like
+to think Susan lies so near me, in Brail Churchyard, and that
+by and by I'll lie beside her; and if I could only see my girl
+more cheerful&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you must give her time to live down her worries.
+There! I hear the carriage;' and Audrey went in search of her
+fur-lined cloak.</p>
+
+<p>This conversation had taken place about eighteen months
+ago, and though Audrey had never alluded to it of her own
+accord, it touched her greatly to notice how, when he was alone
+with her, Mr. O'Brien would drop a few words which showed
+how clearly he remembered it.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no one else to whom I can speak of Mat,' he said
+one day; 'Prissy never cared much about him&mdash;I think she
+dislikes the subject; as sure as ever I mention Mat she cries
+and begins to talk of Joe.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was not at all surprised when Mr. O'Brien made
+that allusion as she was stroking the tortoise-shell cat in the
+sunshine. She could hear Mrs. Baxter laying the tea-things in
+the other parlour, where they generally sat, and the smell of
+the hot cakes and fragrant new bread reached them. The
+cuckoo's note was distinctly audible in the distance; a brown
+bee had buried himself in the calyx of one of the lilies; and
+some white butterflies were skimming over the flower-beds.
+The sweet stillness of the summer afternoon seemed to lull her
+into a reverie; how impossible it was to realise sin and sorrow
+and broken hearts and the great hungry needs of humanity,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">{91}</a></span>
+when the sky was so blue and cloudless, and the insects were
+humming in the fulness of their tiny joy! 'Will sorrow ever
+come to me?' thought the girl dreamily; 'of course, I know it
+must some day; but it seems so strange to think of a time when
+I shall be no longer young and strong and full of joy.' And
+then a wave of pity swept over her soft heart as she noticed
+the wrinkles in her old friend's face. 'I wish Mrs. Baxter were
+more cheerful,' she said inwardly; 'she has depressed him, and
+he has been missing me all these weeks.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey tried to be very good to him as they sat together for
+the next half-hour. She told him the Rutherford news, and
+then asked him all manner of questions. Audrey was a hypocrite
+in her innocent fashion; she could not really have been so
+anxious to know how the strawberries and peas were doing in
+the little kitchen garden behind the cottage, and if the speckled
+hen were sitting, or if Hannah, the new girl, were likely to
+satisfy Mrs. Baxter. And yet all these questions were put, as
+though everything depended on the answers. 'For you know,
+Mr. O'Brien,' she went on very seriously, 'Ralph declares that
+we shall have very little fruit this season&mdash;those tiresome winds
+have stripped the apple-trees&mdash;and for some reason or other we
+have never had such a poor show of gooseberries.'</p>
+
+<p>'The potatoes are doing finely, though,' returned Mr. O'Brien,
+who had risen to the bait; 'after tea I hope you will walk
+round the garden with me, ma'am, and you will be surprised to
+see the way some of the things have improved.'</p>
+
+<p>'Tea is ready, father,' observed Mrs. Baxter at this point.
+'Miss Ross, will you take that chair by the window? you will
+feel the air there. I am going to ask a blessing, father: "For
+what we are going to receive the Lord make us truly thankful."
+Yes, Miss Ross, those are your favourite scones, and Hannah
+is baking some more; there's plum preserve and lemon marmalade
+and home-made seed-cake.' And Mrs. Baxter pressed one
+viand after another upon her guest, before she could turn her
+attention to the teapot, which was at present enveloped in a
+huge braided cosy.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me! I shall never be able to eat my dinner, Mrs.
+Baxter, and then mother will be miserable; you have no idea
+the fuss she makes if I ever say I am not hungry.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is perfectly right, Miss Ross,' was the mournful answer;
+'there is no blessing to equal good health, and health mainly
+depends on appetite. Where would father and I have been if
+we had not kept our health? It is a wonderful blessing, is it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">{92}</a></span>
+not, father, that I have been so strong? or I should have sunk
+long ago. But, as poor dear mother used to say, there is no
+blessing like a good constitution.'</p>
+
+<p>Everyone has his or her style of conversation, just as all
+authors have their own peculiar style of writing. Mrs. Baxter,
+for example, delighted in iteration; she had a habit of taking
+a particular word and working it to death. Michael was the
+first person to notice this little peculiarity. After his first visit
+to Vineyard Cottage, as he was driving Audrey home in the
+dog-cart, he said to her:</p>
+
+<p>'Did you notice how often Mrs. Baxter used the same word?
+I am sure she said "trouble" fifty times, if she said it once.
+She is not a bad-looking young woman, but she is a painfully
+monotonous talker. I should say she is totally devoid of
+originality.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know nothing about health, Mrs. Baxter,' returned Audrey
+with aggressive cheerfulness. 'I am always so well, you see. I
+never had the doctor in my life, except when I had the measles.'</p>
+
+<p>'And the whooping-cough, Miss Ross. Don't say you have
+not had the whooping-cough!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; when I was a baby. But I hope you do not
+expect me to remember that.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad to hear it, I am sure, for you gave me quite a
+turn. There is nothing worse than having the whooping-cough
+late in life&mdash;it is quite ruinous to the constitution. You know
+that, don't you, father?&mdash;for great-aunt Saunders never got rid
+of it winter and summer. She had a good constitution, too;
+never ailed much, and brought up a large family&mdash;though most
+of them died before her: they had not her constitution, had
+they, father? Great-aunt Saunders was a stout-built sort of
+woman; but with all her good constitution and regular living
+she never got rid of the whooping-cough.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shall I give you a slice of this excellent cake?' asked
+Audrey politely, and with a laudable desire to hear no more of
+great-aunt Saunders' good constitution, and, to change the
+subject, she begged for a recipe of the seed-cake for her mother.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Baxter looked almost happy as she gave it. She was
+an excellent cook, and her light hand for cakes and pastry, her
+delicious scones and crisp short-cake, must have been remembered
+with regret by the recusant Joe, and may have had something
+to do with his anxious claims. Mrs. Baxter forgot her beloved
+iteration; her monotonous voice roused into positive animation
+as she verbally weighed out quantities.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">{93}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'A great deal depends on the oven, Miss Ross, as I tell
+Hannah. Many and many a well-mixed cake has been spoiled
+by the baking; you may use the best of materials, but if the
+oven is over-hot&mdash;&mdash;' and so on, to all of which Audrey
+listened with that pleased air of intelligent interest which once
+made Michael call her 'the most consummate little hypocrite
+on the face of the earth.'</p>
+
+<p>'For you were not a bit interested in listening to old Dr.
+Sullivan's account of those beetles,' he said on that occasion.
+'You know nothing about beetles, Audrey. I saw you once
+yawning behind your hand&mdash;which was positively rude&mdash;and
+yet there you were making big eyes at the dear old man, and
+hanging on his words as though they were diamonds and
+pearls.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are too hard on me, Michael,' returned Audrey, who
+was a little hurt at this accusation. She rarely quarrelled
+with Michael, but now and then his keen man's wit was too
+much for her. 'I was very much interested in what Dr.
+Sullivan was saying, although I certainly do not understand the
+habits of beetles, any more than I understand the Greek literature
+about which you are pleased to talk to me,' in a pointed
+tone. 'And if I yawned'&mdash;speaking still in an injured voice&mdash;'it
+was because I had been up half the night with poor little
+Patience Atkinson&mdash;and I don't like you to call me a hypocrite,
+when I only meant to be kind,' finished Audrey, defending herself
+bravely in spite of an inward qualm that told her that perhaps
+Michael was right.</p>
+
+<p>Michael looked at her with one of his rare smiles; he saw
+the girl was a little sore.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear,' he said, taking her hand, 'don't be vexed with
+me. You know we always speak the truth to each other.
+You must not mind my little joke. After all, your friends love
+you the better for your innocent hypocrisy. We all pretend a
+little; conventionality demands it. Which of us would have
+the courage to say to any man, "My good friend, do hold your
+tongue&mdash;you are simply boring me with these everlasting
+stories"?'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Michael,' persisted Audrey, for she wanted to make
+this thing very clear to herself as well as to him, 'I think you
+are wrong in one thing: I am really very seldom bored, as you
+call it. Even if I do not understand things&mdash;if they are not
+particularly interesting&mdash;it pleases me to listen to people. Old
+Dr. Sullivan did look so happy with that row of nasty little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">{94}</a></span>
+beetles before him, that I was quite pleased to watch him.
+You know people always talk so well on a subject that
+interests them.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know one thing&mdash;that there are very few people in the
+world so amiable as a certain young lady of my acquaintance.
+The world would be a better place to live in if there were more
+like her&mdash;&mdash;' But here he checked himself, for he had long
+ago learnt the useful lesson that speech is silvern and silence is
+golden, and that over-much praise seldom benefited anyone.</p>
+
+<p>When tea was over, Audrey accompanied Mr. O'Brien round
+his small domain, while he proudly commented on the flourishing
+state of his fruit and vegetables. Before she left the
+cottage she contrived to exchange a few words with Mrs.
+Baxter, who had remained in the house, and whom she found
+in the tiny kitchen washing up the best cups and saucers.</p>
+
+<p>'Girls are mostly careless, Miss Ross,' she explained in an
+apologetic manner; 'and Hannah is no better than the rest, so
+I always wash up mother's china myself. It would worry me
+more than I am already if a cup were to be broken.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so sorry to hear your husband has been troubling you
+again, Mrs. Baxter.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, indeed, Miss Ross, and it is a crying shame for Joe to
+persecute me as he does. Sometimes I feel I must just run
+away and hide myself, his visits put me into such a nervous
+state. It is so bad for father, too. He is not as young as he
+used to be, and since mother's death there has been a great
+change in him. Last time Joe came he put himself out terribly,
+and was for taking the stick to him. I was all in a tremble&mdash;I
+was indeed, Miss Ross&mdash;for Joe had been drinking, and
+father's a powerful man, and there might have been mischief.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think your husband must be made to understand that he
+is to leave you alone.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you don't know what men are, Miss Ross. They are
+over-fond of their own way. Joe does not find things comfortable
+without me, and then he is always so greedy for money.
+The ways of Providence are very dark and mysterious. When
+I married Joe I expected as much happiness as other women.
+He was so pleasant-spoken, had such a way with him, that even
+father and mother were deceived in him; he never took anything
+but his tankard of home-brewed ale at our place, and he
+was so trim and so well set up that all the girls were envying
+me. But the day I wore my gray silk dress to go with him
+to church was the most unfortunate day of my life. Mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">{95}</a></span>
+would far better have laid me in my shroud,' finished Mrs.
+Baxter, with a homely tragedy that was impressive enough in
+its way.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you must not say that,' returned Audrey hastily.
+'Life will not always be so hard, I hope;' and then she shook
+hands with the poor woman.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey enjoyed her walk back. It was a delicious evening,
+and the birds were singing from every brake and hedgerow.
+Once or twice she heard the harsh call of the corncrake mingled
+with the flute-like notes of the thrush; a lark was carolling
+high up in the blue sky&mdash;by and by she heard him descend.
+Audrey walked swiftly down the long grass lanes, and, as she
+neared Rutherford she could see a dim man's figure in the
+distance. Of course it was Michael coming to meet her,
+attended by his faithful Booty. Audrey smiled and quickened
+her pace. She was quite used to these small attentions, this
+brotherly surveillance on Michael's part&mdash;she was never surprised
+to find him at some unexpected point waiting patiently
+for her.</p>
+
+<p>'Am I late?' she asked hastily, as he rose from the stile and
+slipped his book in his pocket. 'I have had such a nice afternoon.
+They were so pleased to see me, and made so much of
+me;' then, with a quick change of tone, 'You have walked too
+far to meet me, Michael&mdash;you are looking paler than usual this
+evening!'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense,' he returned good-humouredly; 'I am all right.
+Was Mrs. Baxter as mournful as usual?' To which question
+Audrey returned a full explanatory answer.</p>
+
+<p>Michael listened with his usual interest, but he made few
+comments. Perhaps his mind was on other things, for when
+she had finished he said somewhat irrelevantly:</p>
+
+<p>'You are right, Audrey&mdash;Mrs. Blake is certainly a very
+pretty woman.'</p>
+
+<p>In a moment Vineyard Cottage, Mr. O'Brien, and the
+mournful Priscilla vanished from Audrey's mind.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Michael! have you really seen her?' she asked
+breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I am not sure,' was the somewhat provoking answer.
+'You were not there to introduce us, you know, and of course I
+could not swear that it was Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me, how slow you are, Michael!' for he was speaking
+in a drawling manner. 'Why can't you tell me all about it in
+a sensible way?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">{96}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Because there is not much to tell,' he returned calmly.
+'I was just passing the Gray Cottage, when a lady in black
+came out of the gate. I was so close that I had to draw back
+to let her pass, and of course I just lifted my hat; and she
+bowed and gave me the sweetest smile&mdash;it haunts me now,'
+murmured Captain Burnett in a sort of audible aside.</p>
+
+<p>'A lady in black coming out of the Gray Cottage?&mdash;of
+course it was Mrs. Blake, you foolish fellow!'</p>
+
+<p>'You think so?' rather sleepily. 'Well, perhaps you are
+right. I certainly heard a window open, and a girl's voice
+called out, "Mamma, will you come back a moment? You
+have forgotten your sunshade." And the lady in black said,
+"Oh, how stupid of me, Mollie!" and then she whisked
+through the gate again.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you stand still in the middle of the road to hear all
+this, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, my dear. There was something wrong with the lock
+of the school-house gate. It is sometimes a little difficult&mdash;I
+must tell Sayers it wants oiling.' Michael's face was inimitable
+as he made this remark.</p>
+
+<p>'And so you saw her come out again. Oh, you deep, good-for-nothing
+Michael!'</p>
+
+<p>'I saw her come out again, and she had the sunshade.
+She walks well, Audrey, and she has a pretty, graceful figure&mdash;and
+as for her face&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Well!' impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>'I think I will keep that to myself,' he replied with a wicked
+smile. 'Do you fancy we could coax Cousin Emmeline to call
+soon? I begin to feel anxious to enlarge my stock of acquaintance,
+and you must allow that a bewitching widow is rather
+alluring&mdash;&mdash;' He paused.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael,' giving his arm a little jerk, 'a joke is a joke;
+but, mind, I will not have you falling in love with Mrs. Blake.
+Dear me! what would Gage say?'</p>
+
+<p>And at this Michael laughed, and Audrey laughed too&mdash;though
+just for the moment she did feel a wee bit uncomfortable,
+for even the notion of Michael falling in love with any woman
+was not quite pleasant.</p>
+
+<p>'Really, Michael, we must walk faster,' she said, recovering
+herself, 'or I shall not have time to dress for dinner.' And
+then they both quickened their footsteps, and no more nonsense
+was talked about the fascinating Mrs. Blake.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">{97}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>'A GIRL AFTER MY OWN HEART'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Be to their virtues very kind,</div>
+<div class="verse">Be to their faults a little blind,</div>
+<div class="verse">And put a padlock on the mind.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Anon.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>'I will go to the Gray Cottage this afternoon,' was Audrey's
+first thought the next morning when she woke; but she kept
+this intention to herself when Geraldine came in, after breakfast,
+to beg for some favourite recipes of her mother's that she had
+lost or mislaid. 'And if you have nothing better to do,' she
+said, turning to Audrey, who was filling the flower-vases, 'I
+shall be very glad of your company this afternoon, as Percival
+is going up to London.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shall you be alone, Gage? I mean, are you expecting any
+special visitor?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, old Mrs. Drayton is driving over to luncheon with
+that deaf niece of hers; but they will go away early&mdash;they
+always do. Come up later, Audrey, and bring your work; and
+perhaps Michael will fetch you&mdash;it is so long since we have
+seen him. I will not ask you both to stay to dinner, as
+Percival is always a little tired after a journey to London, and
+a <i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i> dinner will suit him better; but we could have a
+long afternoon&mdash;you know you refused me yesterday because of
+the O'Briens.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will come up to tea, Gage,' interrupted Audrey somewhat
+hastily; 'I would rather avoid Miss Drayton, and Miss
+Montague is simply terrible. You may expect me about half-past
+four, and I will give Michael your message.'</p>
+
+<p>And Audrey carried off her vase to avoid any more
+necessary questioning. Gage seemed always wanting her now;
+was it all sisterly affection, Audrey wondered, or a clever
+device to counteract the Blake influence?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">{98}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'By the bye, mother,' observed Mrs. Harcourt carelessly, as
+she gathered up sundry papers, 'I suppose you will soon be
+leaving your card on Mrs. Blake? Percival thought I had
+better call with you, and if you are disengaged next Tuesday or
+Wednesday&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, that is a week hence, my love!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, mother dear, I know; but I have so many engagements
+just now that I am obliged to make my plans beforehand.
+Besides, we could not very well call before&mdash;you know what a
+muddle they were in.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I remember; and Audrey helped them so nicely to
+get straight. Very well, we will say Tuesday; and I really
+am very much obliged to Percival for his suggestion, for after
+all this talk, and the things Edith Bryce told you yesterday, I
+shall be quite nervous in calling alone.' But here a significant
+look from her daughter checked her, and she changed the
+subject rather awkwardly.</p>
+
+<p>'So dear Edith has been talking again,' thought Audrey, as
+she stepped out on the terrace with her empty basket; 'I
+almost wish I had been at Hillside yesterday, and heard things
+with my own ears.' And then she stopped to cut off a dark
+crimson rose that grew under the schoolroom window, and as
+she did so she became aware that Mr. Blake had put down his
+book and was watching her. She gave him a smile and a nod,
+and walked to the other end of the garden.</p>
+
+<p>'I always forget the schoolroom window,' she said to herself,
+with a slight blush, as she recalled that fixed look; 'Mr.
+Ollier generally sat with his back to the window and took no
+notice&mdash;he was as blind as a bat, too&mdash;but Mr. Blake is very
+observant.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross had arranged to drive into Dulverton after
+luncheon with her husband. When Audrey had seen them off,
+and had exchanged a parting joke with her father, she started
+off for the Gray Cottage. Things had arranged themselves
+admirably: she had two hours before Geraldine would expect
+her. Michael had consented to fetch her&mdash;Kester was coming
+to him early in the afternoon, and he had also promised to take
+a class for Dr. Ross; he would put in an appearance about
+half-past five. And Audrey professed herself satisfied with
+this arrangement.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey met Kester on her way to the Cottage. The poor
+boy was dragging himself along rather painfully on his crutches;
+the heat tried him, he said, but he seemed bright and cheerful.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">{99}</a></span>
+Audrey looked pitifully at his shabby jacket and old boots;
+she noticed, too, the frayed edges of his wristbands. 'Is it
+poverty or bad management?' she thought; and then she
+asked Kester how he liked his new tutor. The boy flushed
+up in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'Awfully&mdash;I like him awfully, Miss Ross, and so does Cyril.
+You have no idea of the trouble he takes with me; I know
+nothing of mathematics, but I mean to learn. Why,' went on
+Kester, with an important air, 'I am so busy now, working up
+for Cyril and Captain Burnett, that I can hardly find time for
+Mollie's sums and Latin.'</p>
+
+<p>Evidently Kester did not wish to be pitied for his additional
+labours.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor fellow, how happy he looks!' Audrey said to herself,
+as she went on. 'Michael is doing good work there.' But
+somehow she could not forget those frayed wristbands all the
+remainder of the day; there was a button off his jacket, too&mdash;she
+had noticed the unsightly gap. 'I wish Mrs. Blake had a
+little more method,' she thought; 'Mollie and Kester are
+certainly rather neglected. How could poor Mollie go to chapel
+in that frock?'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey let herself in at the green gate; but this time there
+was no Mollie on the threshold. She rang, and Biddy came
+hobbling out of the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>'The mistress is in there,' she said, with a jerk of her head
+towards the dining-room, and then she threw open the door.
+'Here's Miss Ross, mistress,' she said unceremoniously.</p>
+
+<p>Biddy was evidently unaccustomed to parlour work.
+Mollie, who was sewing in the window beside her mother,
+threw down her work with a delighted exclamation, and Zack
+gave a bark of recognition. Mrs. Blake welcomed her very
+cordially.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Miss Ross,' she said in her soft, pretty voice, 'we
+thought you had quite forsaken us; poor Mollie has been as
+restless as possible. I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see
+you again; I was half afraid you had disappeared altogether,
+after the fashion of a benevolent brownie.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have so many friends,' began Audrey; but Mrs. Blake
+interrupted her:</p>
+
+<p>'There, I told you so, Mollie. I said to this foolish child,
+when she was bemoaning your absence, "You may take my word
+for it, Mollie, Miss Ross has a large circle of friends and
+acquaintances&mdash;it is only to be expected in her position&mdash;and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">{100}</a></span>
+of course we must not monopolise her; especially as we are new-comers
+and comparative strangers."'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie thinks differently&mdash;don't you, Mollie? We are quite
+old friends, are we not?' and Audrey gave her a kind glance.</p>
+
+<p>How flushed and tired the poor child was looking! but she
+brightened up in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course we are not strangers,' she returned, quite
+indignantly; 'mamma is only saying that because she wishes
+you to contradict her. Oh, Miss Ross,' nestling up to her, 'I
+have so wanted to see you&mdash;I have looked out for you every
+day!'</p>
+
+<p>'I could not possibly come before, dear.'</p>
+
+<p>'No&mdash;but now you will stay for a long time? Mamma,
+won't you ask Miss Ross to stay to tea? and Biddy will bake
+some scones. Biddy will do anything for Miss Ross; she said
+so the other day.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear child, I could not possibly stay; I am going to
+have tea with my sister&mdash;she lives in one of the Hill houses.
+Another time, Mollie,' as a cloud of disappointment passed over
+Mollie's face; and to divert her thoughts she took up the work:
+'Why, what pretty stuff! is this for your new frock?'</p>
+
+<p>Mollie's brow cleared like magic.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; is it not lovely? Cyril chose it; he bought it for my
+last birthday, only mamma was too busy to make it up. But
+both my frocks will be done to-night&mdash;mamma says she will not
+go to bed until they are finished.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, and I mean to keep my word,' returned Mrs. Blake
+good-humouredly; 'and your new hat will be trimmed, too, and
+then Cyril will not grumble any more about his sister's
+shabbiness. I have been working like a slave ever since I got
+up this morning, and yet this naughty child pretended she was
+tired because I wanted her to stitch the sleeves.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, mamma, I had to iron all those handkerchiefs for
+Biddy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know&mdash;and it was terribly hot in the kitchen; she
+does look tired, does she not, Miss Ross? I have a good idea,
+Mollie: put down that sleeve, and I will finish it myself in a
+twinkling, and fetch your hat and go down to the cricket-field
+and bring Cyril back with you to tea&mdash;it will be a nice walk
+for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, mamma!' protested Mollie; 'I would so much rather
+stay here with you and Miss Ross, and I don't care about the
+walk.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">{101}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'But if I wish you to go;' and there was a certain inflection
+in Mrs. Blake's soft voice which evidently obliged poor Mollie
+to obey. She rose reluctantly, but there were tears of vexation
+in her eyes. Audrey felt grieved for her favourite, but she was
+unwilling to interfere; she only took the girl's hand and detained
+her a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake, could you spare Mollie to me to-morrow
+afternoon? I want to show her our garden&mdash;it is looking so
+lovely just now.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are very kind,' hesitating slightly; 'but are you sure
+that it will be convenient to Mrs. Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'My mother has nothing to do with it&mdash;Mollie will be my
+visitor,' returned Audrey quietly; and then she continued
+diplomatically: 'I know my mother intends to call on you next
+week, Mrs. Blake; she and my sister were planning it this
+morning&mdash;they are only waiting until you are settled.'</p>
+
+<p>Evidently Mrs. Blake was much pleased with this piece of
+intelligence; she coloured slightly, and her manner became more
+animated.</p>
+
+<p>'That is very kind; I do so long to see Mrs. Ross: Cyril is
+charmed with her, and he thinks Mrs. Harcourt wonderfully
+handsome. Oh yes, I can easily spare Mollie; and her frock
+and hat will be all ready. Now off with you, child,' with
+laughing peremptoriness; and Mollie only paused to kiss her
+friend and whisper that she was quite happy now, as she would
+have her all to herself the next day.</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie has got to a difficult age,' observed Mrs. Blake,
+stitching rapidly as she spoke; and Audrey again admired the
+lovely profile and finely shaped head; 'she is getting a little self-willed
+and wants her own way. And then she is such a
+chatterbox; she will hardly let me get in a word. Sometimes
+I like to have my friends to myself; you can understand that,
+Miss Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, that is easily understood,' returned Audrey, who
+nevertheless missed Mollie.</p>
+
+<p>'I thought I could talk to you more easily without her this
+afternoon; I wanted to speak to you about your cousin&mdash;Captain
+Burnett is your cousin, is he not?'</p>
+
+<p>'He is my father's cousin.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, well, that is much the same. Is he a pale, slight-looking
+man with a reddish-brown moustache?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly that description suits Michael. I think he has
+such a nice face, Mrs. Blake.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">{102}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I daresay; he is not handsome, but he looks like a soldier.
+What keen, bright eyes he has! The children have talked
+about him so much that I was quite curious to see him.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is certain that you have seen him; no one else in
+Rutherford answers to that description. It is odd how everyone
+makes that remark about Michael's eyes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, they are a little too searching. I have plenty of
+courage, but I am disposed to feel afraid of Captain Burnett.
+What I wanted to say, Miss Ross, is this&mdash;that I am truly
+grateful to your cousin for his kind interest in my poor boy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean this as a message?'</p>
+
+<p>'That is just as you think proper; but in my opinion he
+ought to know how much Kester's mother appreciates his
+kindness. When I first heard of the plan, I will confess to you
+honestly, Miss Ross, I was a little bit alarmed. Kester did not
+explain things properly&mdash;he would have it that Captain Burnett
+meant to give him lessons here, and I told Cyril that would
+never do. Cyril was a trifle bothered about it himself, until
+he had a talk with Captain Burnett and found out that Kester
+was to go to Woodcote.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, of course; Michael intended that all along.'</p>
+
+<p>'True, and I ought not to have flurried myself. But if you
+only knew what I went through at Headingly, and the unkind
+things that people said of me! A burnt child dreads the fire,
+and I was determined that no one should have an opportunity
+of speaking against me at Rutherford. What a hard world it is,
+Miss Ross! Just because I am&mdash;well'&mdash;with a little laugh&mdash;'what
+you call good-looking&mdash;why should I deny the truth?
+I am sure I care little about my looks except for Cyril's sake;
+but just because I am not plain, people take advantage of my
+unprotected position. Oh, the things that were said!' with a
+quick frown of annoyance at the recollection. 'I daresay some
+of them have reached your ears. Haven't you heard, for
+example, that I tried to set my cap at Dr. Forester, only his
+daughter grew alarmed and insulted me so grossly that I vowed
+never to speak to him again? Have you not heard that, Miss
+Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was obliged to confess that something of this story
+had reached her.</p>
+
+<p>'But I did not believe it, Mrs. Blake, and I do not believe
+it now,' she continued hastily.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake's eyes filled with indignant tears.</p>
+
+<p>'It was not true&mdash;not a word of it!' she returned in a low<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">{103}</a></span>
+vehement voice. 'You may ask Cyril. Oh, how angry he was
+when the report reached him! He came home and took me in
+his arms and said we should not stay there&mdash;no one should talk
+against his mother. They did say such horrid things against
+me, Miss Ross; and yet how could I help Dr. Forester calling
+on me sometimes? He was never invited&mdash;no one asked him
+to repeat his visits. Mollie will tell you I was barely civil to
+him. I suppose he admired me, that is the truth; and his
+daughter knew it, and it made her bitter. Well, after that, I
+declared that nothing would induce me to receive gentlemen
+again, unless they were Cyril's friends and he brought them
+himself.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was silent. She had been very angry when Geraldine
+had told her the story. She had declared it was a pure fabrication&mdash;a
+piece of village gossip.</p>
+
+<p>'Besides, if it were true,' she had continued, 'where is the
+harm of a wealthy widower, with one daughter, falling in love
+with a good-looking widow? And yet Edith Bryce seems to
+hint darkly at some misconduct on Mrs. Blake's part.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are putting it too strongly, dear,' replied her sister.
+'Edith only said she considered Mrs. Blake rather flippant in
+manner, and a little too gracious to gentlemen&mdash;&mdash;' but Audrey
+had refused to hear more.</p>
+
+<p>'I was utterly wretched at Headingly,' went on Mrs. Blake,
+in her sweet, plaintive voice; 'and Cyril grew to hate it at last&mdash;for
+my sake. He says he is sure it will be different here,
+and that people are so much nicer. I believe he thinks you
+angelic, Miss Ross, and your mother only a degree less so.
+Only last night he said to me, as we were walking up and down
+in the moonlight, "I am certain you will be happy at Rutherford,
+mother. You have one nice friend already, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+But, there, I had better not repeat my boy's words.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt anxious to change the subject.</p>
+
+<p>'Where did you live before you went to Headingly?' she
+asked abruptly, and Mrs. Blake was clever enough to take her cue.</p>
+
+<p>'We were in lodgings in Richmond,' she answered readily.
+'You know we were poor, and I was straining every nerve to
+keep Cyril at Oxford. I had been saving up every year for it,
+but I cannot deny we were sadly pinched. I had to send Biddy
+home for a year or two, and Mollie and Kester and I lived in
+three little rooms, in such a dull street. Cyril generally got a
+holiday engagement for the summer, but when he joined us&mdash;I
+procured him a bedroom near us&mdash;it used to make him very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">{104}</a></span>
+unhappy to see the way we lived. But I always comforted
+him by reminding him that one day he would make a home
+for us, and that cheered him up.'</p>
+
+<p>'You were certainly very good to him. Some mothers would
+not have done half so much,' observed Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>She was repaid for this little speech, as a smile, almost
+infantile in its sweetness, came to Mrs. Blake's lip.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish Cyril could hear you say that. But he knows&mdash;he
+feels&mdash;I have done my best for him. Yes, my darling, I have
+indeed!' She clasped her hands and sighed. 'What did a
+little extra work, a few sacrifices, matter, when one looked to
+the future? We were very straitened&mdash;the poor children did
+not always have what they needed&mdash;but I don't think we were,
+any of us, unhappy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can so well understand that. I think people are too
+much afraid of being poor. I could never see, myself, why
+poverty should hinder happiness.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you not?' looking at her a little curiously; 'but you
+have not served my apprenticeship. You do not know how
+hard it is for a pleasure-loving nature to be deprived of so many
+sources of enjoyment&mdash;to have to stint one's taste for pretty
+things&mdash;to be perpetually saying "no" to one's self.'</p>
+
+<p>'And yet you own that you were happy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, yes, after a fashion. I think the poor children were,
+until Kester got so ill. Mollie and I used to walk about Richmond
+Park and build castles in the air. We planned what we
+would do if we were rich, and sometimes we would amuse
+ourselves by looking into the shop-windows and thinking what
+we should like to buy&mdash;like a couple of gutter children&mdash;and
+sometimes, on a winter's evening, we would blow out the candles
+and sit round the fire and tell stories.'</p>
+
+<p>'And then you say Kester fell ill?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it was not exactly an illness. But he seemed to
+dwindle and pine, somehow, and Cyril and I got dreadfully
+anxious about him. I don't think Richmond suited him, and
+I could not give him the comforts he needed; and he fretted so
+about his want of education. He seemed to get better directly
+we went to Headingly and Cyril began to give him lessons.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I see;' and then Audrey took advantage of the pause
+to look at her watch. It was later than she thought, and she
+rose reluctantly to go. Mrs. Blake rose too.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you think me an odd, unconventional sort of person
+to tell you all this?' she asked a little abruptly. 'Do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">{105}</a></span>
+know, Cyril often says that I make him very anxious, because
+I am so dreadfully impulsive and speak out everything I think;
+but I made up my mind that afternoon when Cyril told me that
+Mrs. Bryce was a connection of your sister's that I would talk
+to you about the Headingly worries on the first opportunity.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am very glad you have spoken to me; I think it was very
+brave of you.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, my dear Miss Ross, not brave, but cowardly. I was
+so afraid you would be prejudiced against me; and you must
+know that I have taken a great fancy to you. I am a very
+strange creature: I always like or dislike a person at first
+sight, and I never&mdash;perhaps I should say I scarcely ever&mdash;change
+my opinion.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think that is a great mistake. It is impossible to read
+some people at first sight.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps so; but you were distinctly legible. When I
+looked out of my window and saw you setting out the little tea-table
+on the lawn with Mollie, I said to myself, "That is a girl
+after my own heart."'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey laughed; but the little compliment pleased her.
+Somehow Mrs. Blake's manner made everything she said seem
+charming. Audrey felt more and more drawn to this fascinating
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>'And I want you to come very often, and to be my friend
+as well as Mollie's,' with soft insistence.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; yours and Mollie's and Kester's,' replied Audrey in
+an amused voice.</p>
+
+<p>'And not Cyril's? My dear Miss Ross, I hope you do not
+mean to exclude Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, of course not,' rather hurriedly. 'But, Mrs. Blake, you
+must really let me go, or Geraldine will be waiting tea; as it
+is, I shall have to walk very fast, to make up for lost time.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey's thoughts were very busy as she walked swiftly up
+the Hill.</p>
+
+<p>'I like her&mdash;I like her exceedingly,' she said to herself; 'I
+have never met a more interesting person: she is so na&iuml;ve and
+winning in her manner. I feel I shall soon love her; and yet
+all the time I see her faults so plainly. She is terribly unpractical,
+and manages as badly as possible. Edith Bryce was
+right when she said that. And she is foolish with regard to
+her eldest son&mdash;no mother ought to be so partial. I am afraid
+Kester must feel it; all his interests are secondary to his brother's.
+It is hardly fair. And Mollie, too&mdash;the child seems a perfect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">{106}</a></span>
+drudge. No, my dear woman, I admire you more than I can
+say, and I know I shall very soon get fond of you; but you are
+not blameless.'</p>
+
+<p>And then a curious doubt crept into Audrey's mind: with
+all her impulsiveness, was not Mrs. Blake rather a clever woman,
+to tell that Forester story in her own way? Audrey had already
+heard a very different version. She knew Agatha Forester had
+lived in deadly terror of the charming widow. It was true that
+she had declined to believe the story, and that her sympathies
+were enlisted on Mrs. Blake's side; but, still, was it not rather
+a clever stratagem on Mrs. Blake's part to secure her as an ally?
+But Audrey dismissed this thought as quickly as it passed
+through her mind.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, what nonsense!' she argued. 'I am accusing Mrs.
+Blake of being a little deep, when she herself owned frankly
+that she was anxious to prejudice me in her favour. Of course
+she knew Edith Bryce would talk to Gage, and it was only wise
+of her to tell me the truth. People must have treated her very
+badly at Headingly, or her son would not have taken her part.
+He seems to have plenty of common-sense, although he dotes
+on her. They are a wonderfully interesting family, and I seem
+to know them all so well already.' And this last reflection
+brought her to Hillside.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">{107}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>MOLLIE GOES TO DEEP-WATER CHINE</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Well I know what they feel.</div>
+<div class="verse">They gaze, and the evening wind</div>
+<div class="verse">Plays on their faces; they gaze&mdash;</div>
+<div class="verse">Airs from the Eden of youth</div>
+<div class="verse">Awake and stir in their soul.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Matthew Arnold.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Mollie arrived very punctually the next afternoon. Audrey,
+who was watching for her, hardly recognised the girl as she
+came slowly along the terrace. She wore a pretty gray stuff
+frock and a straw hat, trimmed very tastefully with the simplest
+materials; and her usually unkempt locks were neatly arranged
+in a broad glossy plait that reached to her waist.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt quite proud of her appearance, and took her into
+the drawing-room to see her mother and sister; for Geraldine
+had just dropped in on her way down the town. Mrs. Ross
+received her very nicely; but Geraldine took very little notice
+of her. Mollie was rather shy and awkward, and answered all
+Mrs. Ross's questions in monosyllables. She seemed so hot and
+confused that Mrs. Ross's motherly heart took compassion on
+her.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not let us keep you, my dear,' she said, addressing
+Audrey. 'I am sure Geraldine will excuse you; and it is far
+too fine to stay indoors.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case, we will go, Mollie,' returned Audrey in a
+relieved tone. 'Good-bye, Gage; I daresay I shall see you
+to-morrow. And, mother, let me know when tea is ready;'
+and then she beckoned Mollie to follow her.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie was no longer silent when she found herself alone
+with her friend.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh dear, Miss Ross, what a grand house you live in, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">{108}</a></span>
+what a lovely garden! Ours must seem such a poor, poky little
+place after this, and yet we were all so pleased with it. I do
+like Mrs. Ross so; she is such a dear old lady'&mdash;Audrey had
+never heard her mother called a 'dear old lady' before&mdash;'and
+what a grand-looking person your sister is! I never saw anyone
+so handsome.'</p>
+
+<p>But Mollie's tone was a trifle dubious.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope you mean to like her too, Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't seem to know her yet,' replied Mollie evasively;
+'but I liked looking at her. Somehow I could not talk before
+her. Where are we going, Miss Ross? There is no pond that
+I can see.'</p>
+
+<p>'No lake,' corrected Audrey, with much dignity. 'No,
+Mollie; I am going to introduce you to the greenhouses and
+poultry-yard first; then there are the pigs, and the boys' play-ground&mdash;oh,
+a host of sights!&mdash;before we make our way down
+to the lake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, now you mean to be funny, because Cyril always calls
+it the pond&mdash;and Kester too. You must be very rich, Miss
+Ross, to live here and have all these fine things. Mamma was
+saying so to Cyril when he was telling us about it.'</p>
+
+<p>'This is my favourite little bantam, Mollie,' interposed
+Audrey; and then Mollie gave herself up to enjoyment, there
+were so many things to see. Mollie wondered and exclaimed
+and admired, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, until
+Audrey told herself the child was positively pretty.</p>
+
+<p>At last they found themselves by the tiny lake, with their
+hands full of bread for Snowflake and Eiderdown, while a little
+troop of rare foreign ducks hung somewhat timidly in the rear.
+Presently, to Mollie's intense delight, they got into the canoe,
+and Audrey, with much gravity, commenced their voyage.</p>
+
+<p>'For you may laugh, Mollie,' she said severely, 'but you
+have no idea of the extent of the place. This island is called
+"The Swans' Nest." We need not land, because we can see it
+perfectly from the canoe; but you may perhaps notice a small
+wooden building somewhere in the recesses of the island.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, I see it perfectly,' returned Mollie, with the utmost
+candour. 'I could almost cover the island with my pocket-handkerchief;
+but, of course, it is very pretty.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey gave her a withering glance.</p>
+
+<p>'We will go on a little farther. You have a capital view of
+Woodcote now; the house is in fine perspective. There is
+Michael's Bench, so called after my cousin, Captain Burnett; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">{109}</a></span>
+this, Mollie'&mdash;pointing to a pretty little thicket of trees and
+shrubs reaching down to the water&mdash;'is Deep-water Chine.
+With your permission, we will rest here a moment.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have we got to the end of our voyage?' laughed Mollie.
+'Oh dear, Miss Ross, how droll you are this afternoon! But
+it is pretty&mdash;sweetly pretty; and how lovely those swans are!
+How happy you must be to live in such a dear place!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am very fond of it,' returned Audrey dreamily. 'Listen
+to those birds; father is so fond of them. You cannot admire
+the place more than I do, Mollie. To me Woodcote is the finest
+place in the world; it would be dreadful to leave it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why should you ever leave it, Miss Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, indeed?' with an amused curl of her lip. 'I don't
+suppose I ever shall leave it, Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not unless you married,' replied Mollie, in a serious voice.
+'People are obliged to go away when they are married, are they
+not? But perhaps you will have as grand a place of your own.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have half made up my mind that I will be an old maid,'
+returned Audrey lazily. 'Old maids lead such nice, useful,
+unselfish lives.' And then, as Mollie opened her eyes rather
+widely at this, she went on: 'What a pretty frock that is!&mdash;and
+that smocking is exquisitely done. I really must ask your
+mother to give me lessons&mdash;for it will be useful if I ever should
+have any nephews and nieces,' thought Audrey, who was practical
+in her own way.</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma will be delighted to teach you; she is so fond of
+you, Miss Ross. She was talking about you half the evening.
+Do you know, she did not go to bed until past one o'clock; she
+was finishing my blue cambric. Cyril begged her to put it
+down half a dozen times, but she said no, she had made up her
+mind to finish it&mdash;and the hat, too. He had to go off to bed
+and leave her at last, and it was not really done until past one.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey made no comment. She was asking herself how far
+she ought to encourage Mollie's childish loquacity&mdash;she was very
+original and amusing.</p>
+
+<p>'But if I do not check her,' thought Audrey, 'there is no
+knowing what she may say next. All the Blakes are so very
+outspoken.'</p>
+
+<p>But Mollie was disposed to enlarge on a topic that interested
+her so closely. She had arrived at an age when a girl begins
+to feel some anxiety to make the best of herself. Her nice new
+frock was an important ingredient in the day's pleasure; she
+felt a different Mollie from the Mollie of yesterday. It was as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">{110}</a></span>
+though Cinderella, dusty and begrimed with her ashes, had
+suddenly donned her princess's robe.</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad you think my frock pretty,' she went on. 'I
+shall be able to go to chapel with Cyril next Sunday. This is
+my Sunday frock; my blue cambric is for every afternoon. It
+was very fortunate mamma was in her working mood yesterday,
+for she would never have allowed me to come in my old
+brown frock. She is so busy to-day; she made me bring her
+down a pile of Kester's shirts that want mending&mdash;"For the
+poor boy is in rags," she said. Stop! I think it was Cyril
+who said that. I thought it was funny for mamma to notice
+about Kester. Yes, it was Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie, do you know your mother calls you a sad chatterbox?'
+observed Audrey at this point.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie coloured up and looked perturbed.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Miss Ross, did mamma tell you that really? Perhaps
+that was why she wanted to get rid of me yesterday, because I
+talk so much. Do you know'&mdash;dropping her voice and looking
+rather melancholy&mdash;'I never do seem to please mamma,
+however much I try; and I do try&mdash;oh! so hard. I never
+mind Cyril laughing at me, because he does it so good-naturedly;
+but when mamma speaks in that reproachful voice,
+and says that at my age I might help her more, I do feel so
+unhappy. I often cry about it when I go to bed, and then
+the next day I am sure to be more stupid, and forget things
+and make mistakes, and then mamma gets more displeased
+with me than ever.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear little Mollie, I am sure you work hard enough.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but there is so much to do,' returned Mollie, with a
+heavy sigh. 'Biddy is so old, she cannot make the beds and
+sweep and clean and cook the dinner without any help. Kester
+is always saying that if we had a younger and stronger servant
+we should do so much better. But mamma is so angry when
+she hears him say that; she declares nothing will induce her
+to part with Biddy&mdash;Biddy used to be mamma's nurse, you
+know. Sometimes I get so tired of doing the same things day
+after day, and I long to go out and play tennis, like other girls.
+But that is not the worst'&mdash;and here poor Mollie looked ready
+to cry; 'do you mind if I tell you, Miss Ross? I seem talking
+so much about myself, and I am so afraid of wearying
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, dear; you may tell me anything you like&mdash;about yourself,
+I mean,' corrected Audrey hastily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">{111}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know what you mean, and it will make me so
+comfortable to talk it all out&mdash;and I have only Kester, you
+know. I am so afraid, and Kester is afraid, too, that with all
+this rough work I shall never be as ladylike as mamma. She
+has such beautiful manners, and, then, have you noticed her
+hands, Miss Ross? they are so white and pretty; and look at
+mine!' and Mollie thrust out a brown, roughened little hand
+for inspection.</p>
+
+<p>'You have a pretty hand, too, Mollie, though it is not quite
+soft at present; but if I were you, I should be proud to think
+that it was hard with good honest work for others.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, if only Cyril would not notice it; he told me one day
+that no young lady ought to have hands like a kitchenmaid.
+Mamma heard him say it, and she begged me to use glycerine
+and sleep in gloves, but I could not do such things. I am
+afraid you think me very complaining, Miss Ross, but I have
+not got to the worst trouble of all, and that is&mdash;that I have
+so little time for my lessons.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I was going to ask you about that.'</p>
+
+<p>'I fret about it dreadfully sometimes, and then Kester is so
+sorry for me. He does all he can for me, poor boy! but
+sometimes on a hot afternoon I am too sleepy and stupid to do
+my sums and Latin. I don't like sums, Miss Ross, or Latin
+either: I would so much rather read French and history with
+mamma&mdash;she reads so beautifully and teaches so well&mdash;but
+somehow she is so often too busy or too tired to attend to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'And who teaches you music?'</p>
+
+<p>'No one,' and here Mollie's face wore a look of the deepest
+dejection; 'we have no piano, and mamma does not play.
+When we lived at Richmond the lady in the drawing-room
+taught me my notes, and I used to practise scales and exercises
+in her room. She was such a funny old dear, with queer little
+pinned-up curls. Her name was Miss Foster&mdash;she had been a
+governess&mdash;and she used to be so kind to Kester and me. She
+would ask us into her room, and give us cake and nice things;
+but I don't think she liked mamma&mdash;she was always pitying us
+and calling us "poor children;" but I am sure we were very
+happy.'</p>
+
+<p>'And she gave you music-lessons?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and I got on quite nicely. I am so fond of music,
+Miss Ross, and so is Cyril; he sings beautifully, and can play
+his own accompaniments. He talks of hiring a piano, and
+then perhaps I can practise my scales and exercises.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">{112}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Audrey made no answer for a moment&mdash;she was deep in
+thought&mdash;and then she said suddenly:</p>
+
+<p>'Are you busy all the morning, Mollie? I mean, if you
+had a piano, when would you practise?'</p>
+
+<p>This question seemed to puzzle Mollie.</p>
+
+<p>'I hardly know, Miss Ross&mdash;in the morning, I think, when
+I had done helping Biddy. Kester generally wants me for an
+hour in the afternoon, and there is the chance, too, that
+mamma might call me to read history with her. I daresay
+I could get half an hour or so before dinner&mdash;luncheon, I
+mean.'</p>
+
+<p>'Would you like to come to me twice a week for a lesson?
+Oh, Mollie dear, take care!' for the girl was starting up in
+her excitement; 'the water is very deep here, and if you upset
+us&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no, I will sit quite still; but I did so want to kiss
+you&mdash;it is such a lovely idea!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad you approve of it. I tell you what, Mollie, I
+will call one afternoon and settle it with your mother. The
+morning will suit me best; I generally go out after luncheon,
+unless we have a tennis-party at home; but with a little
+management I think I could contrive to spare you an hour
+twice a week&mdash;perhaps an hour and a half,' finished Audrey,
+whose busy brain had already suggested that a French exercise
+or half an hour's French reading might be thrown in after the
+music-lesson.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was a good linguist, and played very nicely; it
+made her quite happy to think that she could turn her accomplishments
+to account. And really the child was so disgracefully
+neglected&mdash;Audrey did not scruple a bit to use the word
+'disgracefully.' It was strange how all her sympathy was
+enlisted on Mollie's behalf, and yet she could not like Mrs.
+Blake one whit the less for her mismanagement of the girl.
+On the contrary, Audrey only felt her interest quicken with
+every fresh side-light and detail; she longed to take the Blake
+household under her especial protection, to manipulate the
+existing arrangements, and put things on a different footing.
+Biddy should go&mdash;that should be the first innovation; a strong,
+sturdy Rutherford girl like Rhoda Atkinson should come in her
+place. Poor little Mollie should be set free from all but the
+lightest household duties&mdash;a little dusting or pastry-making;
+she should have regular hours for practising, for reading
+French, even for drawing. Geraldine was very good-natured,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">{113}</a></span>
+she drew beautifully&mdash;Audrey was quite sure that after a time
+she might be pressed into the service. Between herself, Gage,
+and Kester, Mollie might turn out an accomplished woman.
+Dreams, mere dreams, if Mrs. Blake could not be induced to part
+with Biddy; and here the thought of the little work-roughened
+hands gave Audrey a positive pang.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie, on the contrary, sat and beamed at her young benefactress.
+She was that; she was everything perfect in Mollie's
+eyes. Mollie's cup of happiness was full to overflowing! to
+see her dear Miss Ross twice a week, to be taught by her, to
+study her beloved music; Mollie's heart sang for joy: the sunshine
+seemed to intoxicate her. She was in a new world&mdash;a
+world with swans and birds and bees in it&mdash;full of leafy
+shadows and rippling, tiny waves. The kind face opposite her
+broke into a smile.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Mollie, are you tired of sitting here? Shall we go
+back to the landing-place?'</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross, there is Cyril looking for us!' exclaimed Mollie,
+almost beside herself with excitement. 'Yes, do please let us
+go back; he is waving to us.' And Audrey paddled across the
+pond.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril lifted his straw hat rather gravely; but there was
+restrained eagerness in his manner as he helped them to
+alight.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Ross sent me to fetch you,' he said quietly. 'Tea is
+ready, and Miss Cardell and her brother are in the drawing-room.
+Mrs. Ross begged me to come back with you. Why,
+Mollie'&mdash;with a pleased look&mdash;'I should hardly have known
+you. She looks almost grown up, does she not, Miss Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>His manner had changed in a moment. He looked bright
+and animated; his slight gravity vanished. It was Audrey who
+became suddenly embarrassed; the eager look with which the
+young man had greeted her had not been unnoticed by her.
+Cyril's dark eyes were very expressive. More than once during
+the last day or two Audrey had innocently intercepted those
+strange, searching glances, and they vaguely disturbed her.</p>
+
+<p>'It is very good of you to take all this trouble with Mollie,'
+continued Cyril, as he walked beside her towards the house.
+'I need not ask if she has been happy&mdash;eh, Mollie?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have had a lovely time!' exclaimed Mollie, almost
+treading on Cyril's heels in her excitement. 'Oh, Cyril, do
+ask Miss Ross to take you in the canoe to Deep-water Chine!
+It is such a delicious place! The trees dip into the water, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">{114}</a></span>
+the birds come down to drink and bathe; and we saw a water-rat
+and a water-wagtail, and there was the cuckoo; and we
+could hear the cooing of the wood-pigeons whenever we were
+silent; and, oh! it was paradise!'</p>
+
+<p>'I can believe it,' returned Cyril, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake,' asked Audrey hastily, 'why is it that you are
+not on the cricket-field with the boys?'</p>
+
+<p>'Conybeare has taken my place. A lot of the boys were
+kept in, which means I was a prisoner too. I have only just
+opened the gaol-door to the poor wretches. If you want to see
+a heart-breaking sight, Miss Ross&mdash;one sad enough to touch
+the stoniest heart&mdash;go into the schoolroom on a half-holiday on
+a summer's afternoon when half a dozen boys are kept in for
+lessons returned. The utter misery depicted on those boys'
+faces is not to be described.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should just shut up their books and tell them to be
+off.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay you would,' with an amused look at her. 'I can
+well imagine that that would be Miss Ross's <i>r&ocirc;le</i>. We masters
+have to harden our hearts; "discipline must be maintained,"
+as that delightful old fellow in <i>Bleak House</i> used to say;
+bad work brings its own punishment.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are as stern as Captain Burnett. By the bye, where
+is Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'He has gone out with Dr. Ross. That is why Mrs. Ross
+wants me to make myself useful'&mdash;and Cyril did make himself
+useful.</p>
+
+<p>Some more visitors dropped in, Geraldine amongst them.
+She had finished her business in the town, had paid a couple
+of calls, and now looked in on her way home. Somehow,
+Woodcote was always on the way home; but, then, as everyone
+said, there were few daughters so devoted to their mother
+as young Mrs. Harcourt.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey, who was presiding at the tea-table, saw her sister
+looking at Mr. Blake with reluctant admiration; she had
+never before noticed the quiet ease of his manners. He had
+lost his first shyness, and was now making himself exceedingly
+pleasant to Mrs. Ross's guests. Mr. Cardell, who was a stiff,
+solemn-faced young man, was placed at a decided disadvantage;
+clever and gentlemanly as he was, he looked positively awkward
+beside Mr. Blake. Mr. Blake seemed to see everything&mdash;to
+notice in a moment if a lady wanted her cup put down,
+if her tea were not to her taste; he carried sugar and cream to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">{115}</a></span>
+one, cake or bread and butter to another. He seemed to know
+by instinct when the teapot wanted replenishing, and was ready
+to lift the heavy kettle; but he never remained by Audrey's
+side a moment.</p>
+
+<p>As Audrey busied herself among her teacups she was
+amused by overhearing a fragment of conversation behind her.
+Emily Cardell, a plain, good-natured sort of girl, had seated
+herself beside Geraldine.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake seems a decided acquisition,' she observed, in
+a loud whisper that was distinctly audible. 'We ought all to
+be very much obliged to Dr. Ross. He is very young, but
+so distinguished-looking. Poor Oliver is quite cast in the
+shade.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know about that, Emily.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose you think comparisons are odious? But, all the
+same, I am sure you must admire Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think he is very gentlemanly and pleasant.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me, Geraldine! that is very moderate praise. I
+never saw anyone with more finished manners.'</p>
+
+<p>Here Audrey moved away, but her lip curled a little.
+Would Geraldine's tone have been so utterly devoid of
+enthusiasm if she had not known her sister was within earshot?</p>
+
+<p>Just then Mollie touched Audrey on the arm.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross, Cyril says that I have been here long enough,
+and that he is going to take me away.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you sure that I worded it quite so ungraciously?'
+observed Cyril, who had followed her. 'All the same, I think
+you will endorse my opinion, Miss Ross. Mollie has been here
+all the afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>'It has been a very pleasant afternoon,' returned Audrey,
+with one of her kind looks at Mollie; 'and I hope we shall
+have many more. Mollie and I mean to see a good deal of
+each other.' And then she bade them good-bye and turned to
+the other guests, who were also making their adieux.</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine remained behind to exchange a few confidential
+words with her mother, and Audrey stepped out on the terrace.
+As she did so, she was surprised to see Michael sitting just
+outside the drawing-room window. He had evidently been
+there some time.</p>
+
+<p>As she sat down beside him she was struck by his air of
+dejection.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Michael, how tired you look! have you had your tea?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">{116}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>'Then I will go and fetch you some. Do let me, Michael;'
+for he had stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>Michael's hand was very thin and white, but when he
+cared to put out his strength it had a grasp like iron; and that
+firm, soft grip on Audrey's wrist kept her a prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>'No, don't go; it is so late that I would rather wait for
+dinner. I heard the teacups, but I was too lazy to move, and
+to judge from the voices, the room must have been pretty
+full.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; the Cardells and the Fortescues and Gage were
+there.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake, too, was he not?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, mother asked him&mdash;she wanted him to help entertain
+the Cardells.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I see; and he seems disposed to be friendly&mdash;your
+father has asked him to dinner to-morrow night to meet the
+Pagets.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed!' and Audrey tried to suppress the pleasure she
+felt at this intelligence. 'Have you any objection?' She
+asked the question in a joking manner; to her surprise her
+cousin answered her quite gravely:</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I think it will be a pity to take too much notice of
+him&mdash;he is young enough to be spoilt. People are glad to
+have a good-looking fellow like Blake at their parties; and,
+then, I hear he has a magnificent voice. I expect half the
+young ladies of Rutherford will be in love with him&mdash;Miss
+Emily Cardell among them; eh, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure I don't know,' returned Audrey coldly; 'Mr.
+Blake's good looks are nothing to me.' She spoke with unusual
+petulance, as though something in her cousin's remarks had not
+pleased her. 'Well, if you will not have some tea, Michael,
+I must just go back to mother and Gage;' and as Michael said
+no word to detain her, she moved away so quickly that she did
+not hear the half-stifled sigh with which Michael took up his
+paper again.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">{117}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>GERALDINE GIVES HER OPINION</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'We must be as courteous to a man as we are to a picture, which we
+are willing to give the advantage of a good light.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Emerson.</span></p>
+
+<p>'She has a most winning manner and a soft voice.'&mdash;<i>The Abbot</i>.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>Audrey was able to fulfil her promise to Mollie the very next
+day, when she encountered Mrs. Blake unexpectedly some little
+way from the town. She was just turning down a lane where
+one of her <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;es</i>, a little lame seamstress, lived, when Zack
+suddenly bounded round the corner and jumped on her, with
+one of his delighted barks, and the next moment she saw a
+lady in black walking very quickly towards her. She wore a
+large shady hat that completely hid her face, but there was no
+mistaking that graceful figure. Mrs. Blake had a peculiar
+walk: it was rapid, decided, and had a light skimming movement,
+that reminded Audrey of some bird flying very near the
+ground; and she had a singular habit as she walked of turning
+her head from side to side, as though scanning distant objects,
+which deepened this resemblance.</p>
+
+<p>'What a charming surprise!' she exclaimed, quickening her
+pace until it became a little run; 'who would have thought of
+meeting you, my dear Miss Ross, in this out-of-the-way corner?
+Some errand of mercy has brought you, of course,' with a glance
+at Audrey's basket. 'That dainty little white cloth reminds
+me of Red Riding Hood; I would wager anything that under
+it there are new-laid eggs and butter. Down, Zack! you are
+sniffing at it just as though you were that wicked wolf
+himself.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am going to see Rhoda Williams,' returned Audrey;
+'she is lame, poor girl! and has miserable health besides, but
+she works beautifully. Geraldine and I employ her as much
+as possible. I suppose you and Zack have been having a walk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">{118}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'My dear Miss Ross,' with extreme gravity, 'I am not
+taking an ordinary constitutional&mdash;I have come out in the hope
+of preserving my reason. I have been enacting a new version
+of Hood's "Song of the Shirt"; for the last two days it has
+been "Stitch, stitch, stitch,"&mdash;how do the words run on?&mdash;until
+I was on the brink of delirium. An hour ago I said
+to Mollie: "If you have any love for your mother, carry away
+that basket and hide it; do not let me see it again for twenty-four
+hours&mdash;nature is exhausted;" and then I put on my hat,
+and, at the risk of spoiling my complexion, came out into this
+blessed sunshine.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey laughed; there was something so droll, so mirth-provoking
+in Mrs. Blake's tone. Any other woman would have
+said, in a matter-of-fact way: 'I was tired of work, and so I put
+on my bonnet;' but Mrs. Blake liked to drape her sentences
+effectively.</p>
+
+<p>'It is very fortunate that we have met,' returned Audrey,
+when she had finished her laugh, 'for I want to ask you a great
+favour;' and she detailed her little scheme for Mollie.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake was evidently surprised, but she testified her
+gratitude in her usual impulsive way.</p>
+
+<p>'How good, how kind of you, my dear Miss Ross! Indeed,
+I do not know how to thank you; no one has ever taken so
+much notice of my poor Mollie before, except that droll old
+creature Miss Foster; but she could not bear me&mdash;a compliment
+I reciprocated; so we always quarrelled when we met.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you will spare Mollie to me for an hour or so twice a
+week?'</p>
+
+<p>'Will I not! Do you suppose I am such an unnatural
+mother that I could refuse such a generous offer? I really am
+ashamed to tell you, Miss Ross, that I do not know a note of
+music. When I was a girl I was very perverse, and refused to
+learn, because I said I had no ear; but in reality I hated the
+trouble of all those scales and exercises. Of course I am sorry
+for it now: Cyril is so musical, and has such a delightful voice,
+and even poor little Mollie has picked up her notes as cleverly
+as possible.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad you have not refused me. I am sure I shall
+enjoy teaching Mollie. I think we had better begin as soon as
+possible. Let me see: this is Friday; will you ask her to
+come to me on Monday morning? I will be ready for her by
+half-past eleven.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you a thousand times! I will certainly give her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">{119}</a></span>
+your message. What a blessing that new cambric is finished!
+Cyril will be so pleased when I tell him about your kindness.
+He worries dreadfully about Mollie sometimes: he says her
+education is so desultory; but I tell him he cannot alter his
+mother's nature. I never was methodical; it drives me crazy
+to do things by rule. Mollie sometimes says to me: "Mamma,
+I do so wish I had a fixed hour for lessons, that I knew exactly
+when you could read with me;" and my invariable answer is,
+"Good gracious, Mollie! don't you know me by this time? am I
+that sort of person?" I wish for my children's sake that I
+were different; but they must just put up with me as I am.
+You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Mrs. Blake, what an odd comparison!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it just came into my head, you know; it is rather
+strong, but it is very expressive. By the bye, I was going to
+ask you something. Have you any idea on which day your
+mother and sister intend to call on me?'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe Geraldine said Tuesday or Wednesday; I really
+forget which&mdash;Wednesday, I think.'</p>
+
+<p>'But it might be Tuesday. Thanks. I would not willingly
+be out, so I will keep in those two days. Now, I positively
+must not keep you standing under this hedge any longer; but
+I feel all the better for this nice little talk.' And after a few
+more parting words Mrs. Blake went on her way, and Audrey
+unlocked the gate of Mrs. Williams' cottage.</p>
+
+<p>The short interview with Mrs. Blake had been satisfactory;
+her request had been granted without demur or difficulty. Mrs.
+Blake had shown herself in a sensible light. Audrey's benevolence
+had now a new object; she would spare no pains or
+trouble with this poor neglected child. To meditate fresh acts
+of kindness always stirred Audrey's pulses as though she had
+imbibed new wine. Her sympathetic temperament felt warmed,
+vivified, exhilarated, as she stooped to enter the low room
+where Rhoda Williams was expecting her.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey looked forward rather anxiously to her mother and
+Geraldine's visit. She watched them set out with secret perturbation.
+They were to call at one or two places besides, but
+Mrs. Ross assured her very seriously that they would be back
+to tea; and as Geraldine seemed to consider this as a matter of
+course, Audrey got over her own business as soon as possible,
+so as to be back at Woodcote at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>Michael had gone up to town for two or three days, and
+was not expected home until Monday. Dr. Ross rarely made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">{120}</a></span>
+his appearance in his wife's drawing-room until late in the
+evening, and, as no casual visitors dropped in, Audrey would
+be able to cross-examine them to her heart's content. But she
+knew her mother well enough to be sure that no questions
+would be needed. Even if Geraldine were inclined to be reserved,
+to keep her opinions for her husband's ear, Mrs.
+Ross would be sure to discourse very readily on her own
+and Geraldine's doings.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, my dear,' she said in her cheery way, as she entered
+the room, 'here we are, as punctual as possible, and quite ready
+for a nice cup of tea. Of course Mrs. Fortescue was out&mdash;she
+always is&mdash;and Mrs. Cardell was just going out, so we would
+not detain her; and Mrs. Charrington had her room full of
+visitors, so we would not stay long there.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course, as Lady Mountjoy was there, no one else had a
+chance of getting a word with Mrs. Charrington,' observed
+Geraldine, with rather a discontented air.</p>
+
+<p>'My love, I am sure Mrs. Charrington was as nice as possible
+to you; you know what a favourite you are with her. But a
+person like Lady Mountjoy is always so embarrassing to a
+hostess. She is so very big, Audrey, and seems to take up so
+much more room than other people; and, then, she is such a
+talker!'</p>
+
+<p>'So she is, mother. I don't wonder poor Mrs. Charrington
+found herself unable to talk to Gage.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; so we did not stay long. What was the use? Well,
+my dear, I daresay you wonder how we got on at the Gray
+Cottage? We had a very pleasant visit, on the whole&mdash;an
+exceedingly pleasant visit.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey's face brightened; this was better than she expected.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake was in. I think, from her manner, that she
+was expecting us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; certainly we were expected,' put in Geraldine, in
+rather a decided voice.</p>
+
+<p>'She was in the drawing-room, and everything was as nice
+as possible; and the old servant is very respectable-looking.
+Mrs. Blake was doing some lovely embroidery in a frame. How
+exquisitely she works, Audrey! and she selects her own shades,
+too. That dear little Mollie was reading to her&mdash;French history,
+I think. They did look so comfortable! You are certainly right,
+my dear: Mrs. Blake is a most charming woman; she has very
+taking manners, and is altogether so bright and expressive.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is certainly very handsome,' observed Geraldine&mdash;'a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">{121}</a></span>
+most striking-looking person, as Edith says. Mother and I
+agreed that her son is very like her; but, for my own part, I
+prefer Mr. Blake's quiet manners.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you like her, Gage?' and Audrey looked a little
+anxiously at her sister.</p>
+
+<p>'I am not quite sure,' was the cautious answer. 'Mother
+liked her; but, then, mother likes everyone. She was friendly
+and pleasant&mdash;pointedly so; but, in my opinion, she is too
+impulsive, too outspoken altogether. It is not quite good form.
+A grown-up person should have more reticence. To me, Mrs.
+Blake is wanting in dignity.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think you are rather severe on her, Gage. You and Mrs.
+Blake are very different people.'</p>
+
+<p>'You need not tell me that. Mrs. Blake and I are at the
+antipodes as far as temperament and sympathy are concerned.
+You are very impulsive yourself, Audrey, and often speak
+without thought; but I do not think you are quite so outspoken
+as Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, perhaps not.'</p>
+
+<p>'It was so unnecessary for her to tell mother, for example,
+that she was too poor to indulge her social tastes, and that she
+hoped her Rutherford neighbours would be very sparing of their
+invitations. It was not as though we had led up to it. Nothing
+of the sort had been said to prompt such an extraordinary
+statement. I am sure Percival would have called that bad
+form.'</p>
+
+<p>'How I do hate that expression!' exclaimed Audrey, rather
+pettishly. She thought Geraldine more than usually trying
+this afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>'Still, I am sure you would have agreed with me that it
+was most uncalled for. Mother was quite taken aback for a
+moment. She told me so afterwards&mdash;did you not, mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dear; and, of course, it put me in a difficult position.
+I am sure I do not know what we were talking about, Audrey.
+I think I was saying something about Rutherford being a
+sociable little place.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and then she interrupted you, mother, and said, in
+an abrupt sort of way, that its sociability would matter very
+little to her, for, dearly as she loved gaiety, she could not afford
+to indulge in it. "So I hope no kind neighbours will ask me
+to dinner, or to any kind of evening entertainment, for I should
+be obliged to refuse." Now, do you call that quite in good
+taste, Audrey?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">{122}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I think that it was, at any rate, very honest. I can see
+none of that pretentiousness that Edith Bryce led us to expect.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know,' rather doubtfully. 'Mrs. Blake is certainly
+not a humble person; she thinks a great deal of herself. At
+times her manner was almost patronising. She talks a great
+deal too much about her son. Of course she has a right to be
+proud of him; but it was a pity to be quite so gushing.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is useless to talk to you, Gage,' returned Audrey
+impatiently. 'Edith Bryce has prejudiced you too much.
+You are judging Mrs. Blake very unfairly.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope not. I do not wish to be unfair to anyone; but
+I must own that I am sorry that you have such an infatuation
+for her.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know about that; but I am certainly very much
+interested in the whole family.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and I could not help observing to mother that I
+thought it a great pity. They evidently look upon you as a
+close friend. It was "dear Miss Ross" every minute from one
+or other of them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey has been so good to them, you see,' returned Mrs.
+Ross, whose soft heart had been much touched by her daughter's
+praises. 'I am quite sure, Geraldine, that Mrs. Blake meant
+every word she said; there were tears in her eyes once when
+she mentioned how unused they were to such kindness. Audrey,
+my dear, I have asked Mrs. Blake to waive ceremony and come
+to us on Monday, and I assure you she was quite pleased. She
+said it was such a treat to her to watch tennis, and that she
+loved to see her son play. And now, of course, we must ask
+Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, I suppose so.' Audrey spoke with studied indifference.
+'It is a pity you are engaged'&mdash;turning to her
+sister&mdash;'for we shall have quite a large party.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I am thoroughly vexed about it,' returned Geraldine,
+'for Mrs. Charrington is coming too. I wish Mrs. Sheppard
+would not always fix Monday;' and then, after a little more
+talk about the arrangements for the tennis-party, she took her
+leave&mdash;Audrey, as usual, accompanying her to the gate.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose Michael will be back for it?' was her parting
+question.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey supposed so too, but she was not quite certain of
+Michael's movements. He had said something about his
+intention of coming back on Monday, but he might alter his
+mind before that. Michael had not seemed quite like himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">{123}</a></span>
+the day before he went to town; she was sure something had
+harassed him. Geraldine hoped fervently that this was not the
+case; she never liked dear old Michael to be troubled about
+anything. And then the two sisters kissed each other very
+affectionately. Audrey always forgave Geraldine her little vexing
+proprieties and tiresome habit of managing everyone when she
+felt her loving kiss on her cheek.</p>
+
+<p>'After all, there are only we two,' she thought, as she
+walked back to the house. 'I must not magnify Gage's little
+faults, for she is a dear woman.'</p>
+
+<p>And Geraldine's thoughts were quite as affectionate.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope I have not vexed her too much about this new
+<i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i> of hers,' she said to herself, 'but one cannot pretend
+to like a person. Audrey is a darling, and I would not hurt
+her for the world. After all, she is a much better Christian
+than I am;' and then she had a long, comfortable talk with
+her husband, in which she indemnified herself for any previous
+restraint.</p>
+
+<p>'It is so nice to be able to tell you everything, Percy dear!'
+she exclaimed, as the dressing gong warned her to close the
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'That is the good of having a husband,' he replied, as he
+put his books together and prepared to follow her.</p>
+
+<p>Michael did not return in time for the tennis-party, but
+Audrey could only give him a regretful thought&mdash;so many people
+were coming that her hands were quite full. She was busy
+until luncheon time, and Geraldine good-naturedly came down
+from Hillside to offer her help, and had to submit to an anxious
+lecture from her mother on her imprudence in coming out in
+the heat. Audrey had scarcely time to change her dress before
+the first guest arrived. Mrs. Blake came early; her son was
+still engaged with his scholastic duties, and would make his
+appearance later; but he had not allowed her to wait for him.
+Audrey saw her coming through the gate, and went at once to
+meet her.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Miss Ross, I am making my d&eacute;but,' she said gaily;
+'have I come too early? Do tell me which is the schoolroom
+window; I want to know where my boy sits; he said he should
+look out for me.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey suggested rather gravely that they should walk
+along the terrace: her mother was on the lawn with Mrs.
+Charrington. She thought Mrs. Blake looked exceedingly
+nice in her thin black dress and little close bonnet; nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">{124}</a></span>
+could be simpler, and perhaps nothing would have suited her
+half so well. Audrey felt sure that everyone would admire
+her; and she was right. Mrs. Charrington fell in love with
+her at first sight, and to Audrey's great amusement her father
+paid her the most marked attention.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, do tell me who that lady in black is,' inquired
+Gertrude Fortescue, catching hold of Audrey's arm; 'she is
+perfectly lovely. What magnificent hair she has, and what
+a sweet smile! Papa is talking to her now, and Mrs.
+Charrington is on her other side.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that is Mrs. Blake&mdash;you know her son, Gertrude.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake's mother! why, she looks quite young enough to
+be his sister. I wish you would introduce me, Audrey; I have
+quite lost my heart to her.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have brought you another admirer, Mrs. Blake,' observed
+Audrey mischievously, while Gertrude Fortescue turned red
+and looked foolish. Mrs. Blake received the young lady with
+one of her charming smiles.</p>
+
+<p>'Everyone is so kind,' she murmured; 'I am having such
+a happy afternoon, Miss Ross. I won't tell you what I think
+of Dr. Ross&mdash;I positively dare not; and Mrs. Charrington, too,
+has been as nice as possible.'</p>
+
+<p>'And now Gertrude means to be nice, too,' returned Audrey
+brightly. 'Good-bye for the present; I have to play with Mr.
+Blake, and he is waiting for me;' and she hurried away.</p>
+
+<p>What a successful afternoon it was! Mrs. Blake was
+certainly making her mark among the Rutherford people; no
+one in their senses could have found fault with her manners.
+She was perfectly good-humoured and at her ease; she had
+a pleasant word and smile for everybody.</p>
+
+<p>'One would have imagined that all these strangers would
+have made her nervous,' thought Audrey; but it needed a close
+observer to detect any mark of uneasiness in Mrs. Blake's voice
+or manner. Now and then there might be a slight flush, an
+involuntary movement of the well-gloved hands, a quick start
+or turn of the head, if anyone suddenly addressed her; but no
+one would have noticed these little symptoms.</p>
+
+<p>'Your mother seems to be enjoying herself,' observed
+Audrey, as she joined Cyril and they walked across the lawn
+together.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' he returned, with a pleased look; 'she is quite
+happy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let us sit where we can see my son and Miss Ross play!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">{125}</a></span>
+exclaimed Mrs. Blake, rising as she spoke. 'Look! there are
+chairs on that side of the lawn. What a well-matched couple
+they are!&mdash;both play so well. Miss Ross is not as handsome
+as her sister&mdash;Mrs. Harcourt is an exceedingly fine young
+woman, and one seldom sees such a complexion in the present
+day&mdash;but, in my humble opinion, Miss Ross is far more
+charming.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think so? We are all very fond of Geraldine,
+and&mdash;oh yes, Audrey is very nice too,' returned Miss Fortescue
+a little absently. She was considered handsome herself, and
+it struck her with some degree of wonderment that the afternoon
+was half over and Mr. Blake had not asked her to play
+tennis.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">{126}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>'I AM SORRY YOU ASKED THE QUESTION'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Thou must not be hurt at a well-meaning friend, though he shake
+thee somewhat roughly by the shoulder to awake thee.'</p>
+
+<p class="signlet"><i>Quentin Durward.</i></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Half an hour later Audrey had finished her game, and had
+resisted all her partner's pleadings to give their opponents their
+revenge. She might feel tempted&mdash;Mr. Blake played so
+splendidly&mdash;but she knew her duty to her guests better than
+that.</p>
+
+<p>'You must get another partner,' she said, with something
+of her sister's decision. 'Here is Miss Fortescue; she has
+been sitting out a long time, and she is a very good player.
+Gertrude'&mdash;raising her voice&mdash;'Mr. Blake wants a partner.
+I am sure you will take pity on him.' And in this manner
+Gertrude obtained her wish.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps she would rather have had her desire gratified in a
+different manner&mdash;if Mr. Blake had asked her himself, for
+example. She was not quite pleased at the tone in which he
+professed himself delighted to play with Miss Fortescue; he
+fetched her racket a little reluctantly, when Audrey pointed
+it out, and there was certainly no enthusiasm visible in his
+manner as he suggested that Miss Cardell and her partner were
+waiting for them.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know where my mother and Miss Ross have gone?'
+he asked, as they took their place.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake asked Miss Ross to show her the pond. They
+are waiting for you to serve, Mr. Blake;' and then Cyril did
+consent to throw himself into the game. Miss Fortescue was a
+good-looking girl, and played well, but she was not Miss Ross;
+nevertheless, Cyril had no intention of accepting a beating, and
+he was soon playing as brilliantly as ever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">{127}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Mrs. Blake was talking after her usual rapid
+fashion.</p>
+
+<p>'What beautiful grounds! and so tastefully laid out, too.
+I have never seen such a garden. I do love this succession of
+terraces, and those trees with white leaves just striped with
+pink&mdash;what do you call them, Miss Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey told her they were white maple.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me! Did Dr. Ross plant them? They do look so
+well against that dark background of trees. Everything is in
+such perfect taste and order, and Cyril says it is the same in
+the house. The Bryces' establishment was not half so well
+regulated. He declares Dr. Ross has a master-mind, and, now
+I have talked to him, I am quite sure Cyril is right.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must not expect me to contradict you. I think there
+is no one like my father.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay not. He is charming&mdash;positively charming!
+So this is the pond Kester and Mollie rave about? What a
+sweet little place&mdash;so still and so retired! But of course you
+can see the house from it. Is not that your cousin, Captain
+Burnett?'&mdash;as they came in sight of the bench. 'It is very
+much like him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, of course it is Michael!' and Audrey quickened her
+steps in surprise. 'My dear Michael, when did you get back?
+No one knows of your arrival.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay not,' he returned somewhat gravely, as he shook
+hands with her and bowed to Mrs. Blake. 'I only got in half
+an hour ago, and, having no mind to mingle with the crowd, I
+sat here to get cool.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you had some tea, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; Parker brought me some. Never mind me.
+How have you been getting on?' looking at her attentively.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, very well.' But Audrey blushed a little uneasily under
+that kind look. 'Mrs. Blake, I believe you have not met my
+cousin before?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think we have met, Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure we have!' responded Mrs. Blake, with her
+brightest smile. 'I am so glad of this opportunity of speaking
+to you, Captain Burnett. I hope Miss Ross gave you my
+message?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't believe I have had any message&mdash;have I, Audrey?'
+And Audrey laughed a little guiltily; she did not always remember
+people's messages.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake shook her head at her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">{128}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you traitress!' she exclaimed playfully. 'And I
+thought you, of all people, were to be trusted. Captain Burnett,
+I must give my own message. I want to thank you for your
+kindness to my poor boy.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is not poor at all,' he replied lightly; but his keen blue
+eyes seemed to take the measure, mental and physical, of the
+graceful-looking woman before him. 'He is a very clever fellow,
+and will make his mark. I can assure you I quite envy him
+his brains.'</p>
+
+<p>'It makes me so proud to hear you say that. I often wonder
+why my children are so clever; their father'&mdash;she checked
+herself, and then went on in a more subdued key&mdash;'my poor
+husband had only average talents, and as for me&mdash;&mdash;' She left
+her sentence unfinished in a most expressive way.</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie says you are clever too, Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Miss Ross, then Mollie&mdash;bless her little heart!&mdash;is
+wrong. Is it my fault if those foolish children choose to
+swear by their mother? Cleverness does not consist in chattering
+a little French and Italian&mdash;does it, Captain Burnett?
+You and I know better than that, and it will always be a
+lasting wonder to me why I have a son like my Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have two sons, Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>Something indefinable in Michael's tone made Mrs. Blake
+redden for a moment; then she recovered herself.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, thank God! I have; but a widow's eldest son is
+always her prop. Kester is a mere boy; he cannot help his
+mother much yet.'</p>
+
+<p>'Kester is nearly sixteen, and will soon be a man; he is
+already very thoughtful for his age. I am sure you will permit
+me to say that I already take great interest in him; he has a
+wonderful thirst for knowledge. I showed one of his translations
+to Dr. Ross, and he was quite struck by it. You know, Dr.
+Ross is a fine Greek scholar.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake seemed much impressed; she was evidently
+taken aback. She was generally so absorbed in her eldest son
+that she failed to give Kester his due. The boy was shy and
+retiring with her; very likely he felt himself unappreciated.
+Anyhow, it was certain that he sought sympathy from everyone
+but his mother; and yet, in her own way, she was kind to him.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was a little disappointed to find Michael so grave in
+his manner to her charming friend&mdash;for such she already considered
+Mrs. Blake. Michael was generally so nice and genial
+with people; he did not seem in the least aware that he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">{129}</a></span>
+talking to a pretty woman. In Audrey's opinion, he seemed
+disposed to pick holes in Mrs. Blake's words and to find matter
+for argument. Not that this would be apparent to anyone but
+herself; but then she knew Michael so well. She could
+always tell in a moment if he approved or disapproved of
+anyone. One thing was clear enough to her, that Mrs. Blake
+was not at her ease. She lost her gay fluency, and hesitated
+for a word now and then; and when they left the lake and
+walked towards the tennis-ground, and Cyril intercepted them,
+she gave him an appealing look to draw him to her side. But
+for once Cyril was blind to his mother's wishes. He shook hands
+with Captain Burnett, and then fell behind to speak to Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean to say that you have finished your game
+already?' she asked, in some surprise.</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed; only Mrs. Fortescue discovered that it was
+late, and took her daughter away, and, of course, I could not
+beat them single-handed&mdash;Wheeler is a crack player&mdash;so we
+made up our mind to consider it a drawn game. You ought
+not to have thrown me over, Miss Ross,' dropping his voice;
+'it was hardly kind, was it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Would you have me play with you and neglect all my other
+guests?' she returned, smiling. 'I think you owe me some
+gratitude for providing you with a partner like Gertrude
+Fortescue. She is one of our best players.'</p>
+
+<p>'I would rather have kept the partner I had,' he replied,
+with unwonted obstinacy; 'even in tennis one prefers one's
+own selection. I played the first set far better.'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe you are a little cross with me, Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'I!' startled by this accusation, although it was playfully
+made, and reddening to his temples; 'I have no right to take
+such a liberty. No man in his senses could be cross with you
+for a moment.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are wrong. Michael is often cross with me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is he?' slackening his pace, and so compelling her to do the
+same, until there were several yards between them and the
+couple in front. 'Captain Burnett seems to me far too good-natured;
+I should have said there was not a spark of temper
+about him. I am rather hasty myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad you have warned me in time, Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, do you meditate any special provocation?' Then,
+catching sight of her dimple, his own face relaxed. 'I see you
+are laughing at me. I am afraid I was not properly gracious to
+Miss Fortescue. I will make up for it on Thursday at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">{130}</a></span>
+Charringtons', and ask her to play. You will be there?' with a note of anxiety in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; I shall be there, of course.'</p>
+
+<p>'We must have one set together; you will promise me that?'
+and Cyril's dark eyes looked full into hers.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, certainly.' But Audrey blushed a little. She felt a
+sudden desire to hurry after the others; but her companion
+evidently held a different opinion.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know Mrs. Charrington has asked my mother to
+come too?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed; but I am so glad to hear it.'</p>
+
+<p>'She was most kind about it: she has promised to call on
+her to-morrow. My mother is so pleased. Does she not look
+happy, Miss Ross? She is so fond of this sort of thing&mdash;a dull
+life never suits her. She nearly moped herself to death at
+Headingly; we were all uncomfortable there.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think she will get on with the Rutherford people.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed I hope so. Miss Ross, do you know, I am so vexed
+about something my mother said the other afternoon, when
+Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Harcourt were calling on her.' And as
+Audrey looked mystified, he went on slowly: 'She actually
+told them that she would accept no evening engagements,
+and that she hoped no one would invite her to dinner.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, I remember.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid they must have thought it very strange. I tell
+my mother that she is far too frank and outspoken for our
+civilised age, and that there is not the slightest need to flaunt
+our poverty in our neighbours' faces.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril spoke with an air of unmistakable annoyance, and
+Audrey good-naturedly hastened to soothe him. Her fine
+instinct told her that his stronger and more reticent nature
+must often be wounded by his mother's indiscreet tongue.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid you are a little worldly-minded, Mr. Blake. I
+consider your mother was far more honest.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you,' in a low tone; 'but all the same,' returning to
+his usual manner, 'it was premature and absurd to make such
+a statement. My mother has to do as I like,' throwing back
+his handsome head with a sort of wilfulness that Audrey thought
+very becoming, 'and I intend her to go out. Miss Ross, I am
+going to ask you a very odd question, but there is no other lady
+to whom I can put such an inquiry. Does it cost so very much&mdash;I
+mean, how much does it cost&mdash;for a lady to be properly
+dressed for the evening?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">{131}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Audrey did not dare to laugh, Cyril was so evidently in
+earnest; her nice tact guarded her from making such a grievous
+mistake.</p>
+
+<p>'Your question is a little vague, Mr. Blake; I hardly know
+what I am to understand by it. Do you mean evening dress
+for one dinner-party or a succession of dinner-parties? You
+know they are perpetual in Rutherford; every house invites
+every other house to dinner. In Rutherford we are terribly
+given to dining out.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I see; and relays of gowns would be required,'
+returned Cyril in a dejected voice. 'I am afraid I must give
+it up, then. My mother would certainly not be able to afford
+that for the present.'</p>
+
+<p>'But when one wears black, a change of dress is not so
+necessary,' interrupted Audrey eagerly. 'If I were poor, I
+should not allow poverty to debar me from the society of my
+fellow-creatures, just because I could not make as great a display
+as other people. No, indeed; I would not be the slave of my
+clothes.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can believe that,' with an admiring glance.</p>
+
+<p>'I would have one good black dress&mdash;and it should be as
+nice as my means would allow&mdash;and I would wear it everywhere,
+and I would not care a bit if people looked as though they
+recognised it. "You are noticing my gown!" I would say to
+them. "Yes, it is an old friend. Old friends are better than
+new, and I mean to cling to mine. By and by, when I am a
+little richer, I will buy another."'</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross, if my mother could but hear you!'</p>
+
+<p>'Tell her what I say, and bid her do the same. Black suits
+her so perfectly, too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, she never means to wear anything else but black,' he
+returned gravely.</p>
+
+<p>'Let her get a soft silk&mdash;a Surah, for example&mdash;and if it be
+made prettily and in the newest fashion, it will look well for
+a long time. Yes'&mdash;reflectively&mdash;'Mrs. Blake would look well
+in Surah.'</p>
+
+<p>'Would she? Do you mind telling me how to spell it?' and
+Cyril produced his pocket-book.</p>
+
+<p>'S-u-r-a-h.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you a thousand times, Miss Ross! And about the
+cost&mdash;would five pounds do?' looking at her anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, I should say that would do,' replied Audrey, who in
+reality knew very little about it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">{132}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blake would have done better to have consulted
+Geraldine, she thought. Geraldine would have told him the
+price to a fraction of a shilling; she would have directed him to
+the best shop for making an excellent bargain. Geraldine had
+a genius for these practical things, whereas she&mdash;Audrey&mdash;was
+liable to make mistakes.</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure five pounds will do,' she repeated, by way of
+encouragement; and again Cyril thanked her fervently.</p>
+
+<p>There was no more opportunity for carrying on this interesting
+discussion, for the others were now standing quite still in
+the shrubbery walk, waiting for them to join them.</p>
+
+<p>'My dearest boy, everyone has gone!' exclaimed Mrs. Blake,
+in a tone of dismay. 'The tennis-lawn is empty!'</p>
+
+<p>'What does that matter?' replied Audrey, hastening up to
+her with a heightened colour, as she noticed a quick, observant
+look on Michael's part. 'We have no rule for our
+Mondays; people come when they like, and stay as long as they
+like.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, still, to be the last to go, and this my first visit to
+Woodcote!' rejoined Mrs. Blake uneasily. 'Cyril, you ought
+to have taken me away long ago.'</p>
+
+<p>'We will make our adieux now,' he returned carelessly, and
+not at all affected by his mother's discomposure. 'Come,
+mother, I see Mrs. Ross standing in the drawing-room window;
+she is evidently waiting for us.' And Cyril drew his mother's
+hand through his arm.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey and Michael followed them to the gate. Mrs. Blake
+kissed Audrey with some effusion. Audrey, who, in spite of
+her large heart and wide sympathies, was not a demonstrative
+person, would willingly have dispensed with this little attention
+before the gentlemen. Mrs. Blake had never offered to embrace
+her before. She had an idea, too, that Cyril was not quite
+pleased.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, come, mother,' he said impatiently, 'we are detaining
+Miss Ross;' and he hurried her away.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey would have returned to the house at once, but
+Michael asked her to take another turn in the shrubbery.</p>
+
+<p>'For I have not seen you for a whole week,' he grumbled;
+'and it is hardly possible to get a word with you now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, you have me now,' she returned with assumed gaiety;
+but all the time she wanted to be alone and think what Mr.
+Blake's parting look meant. 'It was so&mdash;so&mdash;&mdash;' Audrey
+could not quite find the word. 'And now, Michael, I am ready.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">{133}</a></span>
+Audrey was going to say, 'I am ready to hear your opinion of
+Mrs. Blake;' but just at that moment she saw her father
+coming to meet them.</p>
+
+<p>Two is company, but three is none, as both Michael and
+Audrey felt at that moment. Dr. Ross, on the contrary, joined
+them with the air of a man who knows himself to be an acquisition.
+He tucked his daughter's hand under his arm, and began
+questioning Michael about his week in town.</p>
+
+<p>As it happened, Michael had seen and done a good deal, and
+Audrey was soon interested in what he had to tell them. She
+knew all Michael's friends by name, and in this way could claim
+acquaintance with a large circle. She was soon busily questioning
+him in her turn. Had he seen that pretty little Mrs.
+Maddox? and was the baby christened? and who was the second
+godfather? and so on, until the gong warned them to disperse.</p>
+
+<p>The conversation at dinner ran on the same topics, but just
+before they rose from the table Mrs. Ross asked Michael if he
+did not admire Mrs. Blake.</p>
+
+<p>'Very much, indeed,' he returned, without a moment's
+hesitation. 'She has three very excellent points for a woman:
+she is pretty, lively, and amusing. I had quite a long talk with
+her.' And then he changed the subject&mdash;whether intentionally
+or unintentionally Audrey could not tell&mdash;and began telling
+them about a picture one of his friends was painting for the
+next Exhibition.</p>
+
+<p>Michael was very much engaged the next few days. He
+had told Kester to come to him every morning that week, to
+make up for the lessons he had lost, and as a succession of
+garden-parties occupied Audrey's afternoons, she did not find
+time for one of those confidential chats with Michael which
+they both so much enjoyed. When Thursday came Michael
+escorted her to the Charringtons' garden-party. Mrs. Ross and
+her husband were to come later.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was amongst the tennis-players, but, as she passed
+to and fro with her various partners, she saw Michael more
+than once talking to Mrs. Blake. The first time he gave her a
+nod and a smile, but when she passed them again he seemed
+too much engrossed with Mrs. Blake's lively conversation to
+notice her.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had just finished her second game with Mr. Blake,
+and he was taking her to the house in search of refreshments.
+As Audrey ate her strawberries, she wondered a little over
+Michael's abstraction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">{134}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'He certainly seems to admire her,' she said to herself.</p>
+
+<p>Michael and she were to dine at Hillside that evening, and
+as they walked home together in the summer moonlight Audrey
+bethought herself at last of asking that question.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, I want you to tell me what you think of Mrs.
+Blake? I am quite sure you like her very much indeed.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are wrong, then. I wonder what put such a notion
+in your head&mdash;because I was talking to her so much this
+afternoon? That was more her fault than mine. No, Audrey;
+I am sorry to say it, but I do not like Mrs. Blake at all.'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael!' and Audrey stood still in the road. This was a
+shock indeed! She was prepared for criticism: Michael always
+criticised her friends; he felt it a part of his duty; but this
+utter disapprobation was so unexpected; it was crushing&mdash;absolutely
+crushing! Michael, too, whose opinion she trusted
+so entirely! 'Oh, I hope you don't mean it&mdash;that you are only
+joking,' she said, so earnestly that he felt a little sorry for his
+abruptness; but it was too late to retract; besides, Michael
+never retracted.</p>
+
+<p>'I am sorry you asked me the question; but I am bound to
+tell you the truth, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'And is it really the truth?' she asked a little piteously.
+'It is very soon for you to have made up your mind that you
+do not like her; why, you have only spoken to her twice.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but I have had plenty of time to form my opinion of
+her. Look here, Audrey, you must not be vexed with me. I
+would not have found fault with your fair friend if you had
+not asked my opinion. Of course I admire her; one has
+seldom seen a prettier woman, and her style is so uncommon,
+too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't, Michael; you will be praising her hair and complexion
+next, as Gertrude Fortescue did the other afternoon.
+It is the woman, Mrs. Blake herself, I want you to like.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, just so!'</p>
+
+<p>'And now I am so disappointed. Somehow I never enjoy
+my friends quite so much if you do not care for them. I thought
+we always liked the same people, but now&mdash;&mdash;' Here Audrey
+stopped. She felt vexed and mortified; she did want Michael
+to share her interest in the Blakes.</p>
+
+<p>'And now you will look on me as a broken reed; but,
+after all, I am not so bad. I like Kester&mdash;he is a fine fellow;
+and I like your little friend Mollie&mdash;she is true as steel; and,'
+after a moment's pause, 'I like Mr. Blake.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">{135}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Are you quite sure of that, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I am quite sure of it. If I know anything of human
+nature, Mr. Blake is worthy of my esteem: as far as any man
+is good, he is good. And then he has such splendid capabilities.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt vaguely that this was generous on Michael's
+part; and yet she could not have told herself why it was
+generous. If she had had an idea of the truth! But as
+yet she was only dimly conscious of the nobility of Michael's
+nature.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake is clever,' he continued, 'but he does not think
+much of himself; it is rare to find such modesty in a young
+man of the present day. Still, he is very young; one can
+hardly tell what he may become.'</p>
+
+<p>'Father says he is three-and-twenty, Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Still, Audrey, a man's character is not always fully
+developed at three-and-twenty; at that age I was a conceited
+cub. I am seven-and-thirty now, and I feel my opinions are as
+settled as Dr. Ross's are.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish you would not always talk as though you were
+father's contemporary; it is so absurd, Michael, when everyone
+else thinks you a young man!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am a very old young man,' he returned with a whimsical
+smile; 'I have aged prematurely, and my wisdom has developed
+at the same rapid rate. Amongst my other gifts I
+have that of second-sight.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed!' with incredulous scorn. 'You are not very
+humble in your own estimation.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, old young men are never humble. Well, my
+gift of second-sight has put me up to a thing or two. Do you
+know,' turning away and switching the hedgerows carelessly as
+he spoke, 'I should be very sorry if any girl in whom I took a
+deep interest were to be thrown too much into Mr. Blake's
+company.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey faced round on her cousin in extreme surprise.</p>
+
+<p>'You are very incomprehensible to-night, Michael: at one
+moment you praise Mr. Blake, and say nice things about him,
+and the next minute you are warning people against becoming
+intimate with him&mdash;that is surely very inconsistent.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, there is method in my madness,' he returned quietly.
+'I have nothing to say against the young man himself. As far
+as I can tell, there is no harm in him; but he is so young, and
+is such a devoted son, that he is likely to be influenced by his
+mother.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">{136}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And it is on her account that you would dislike any
+such intimacy? Oh, Michael,' very sorrowfully, 'I had no
+idea you would dislike her so!'</p>
+
+<p>'It seems rather unreasonable&mdash;such a pretty woman, too.
+On the whole, I think I do like talking to her, she is so
+amusing. But, Audrey, I must say one thing: you are always
+talking about her frankness. Now, I do not agree with you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't understand you, Michael. I have never known
+anyone so outspoken.'</p>
+
+<p>'Outspoken&mdash;yes. Well, I will explain myself. You are
+frank, Audrey; you hide nothing, because there is nothing to
+hide; and if there were, you would not hide it. Now, Mrs.
+Blake has her reserves; with all her impulsiveness, she has
+thorough self-command, and would never say a word more than
+suited her own purposes. It is her pleasure to indulge in a
+wild, picturesque sort of talk; it is effective, and pleases
+people; and Mrs. Blake, in common with other pretty women,
+likes to please. There is no positive harm in it&mdash;perhaps not,
+but it detracts from reality.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Michael, I like to please people too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly you do. Have I not often called you a little
+hypocrite for pretending to like what other people like!
+How often have we fallen out on that point! But you and
+Mrs. Blake are very different people, my dear; with all your
+faults, your friends would not wish to see you changed.'</p>
+
+<p>But the dark shade of the shrubbery walk they were just
+entering hid the strangely tender look that was in Michael's
+eyes as he said the last words.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">{137}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS. BLAKE HAS HER NEW GOWN</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Thou art a girl of noble nature's crowning:</div>
+<div class="verse">A smile of thine is like an act of grace;</div>
+<div class="verse">Thou hast no noisome looks, no pretty frowning,</div>
+<div class="verse">Like daily beauties of a vulgar race.</div>
+<div class="verse">When thou dost smile, a light is on thy face,</div>
+<div class="verse">A clear, cool kindliness, a lunar beam</div>
+<div class="verse">Of peaceful radiance, silvering o'er the stream</div>
+<div class="verse">Of human thought with beauteous glory,</div>
+<div class="verse">Not quite a waking truth, nor quite a dream:</div>
+<div class="verse">A visitation&mdash;bright though transitory.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Hartley Coleridge.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Audrey was much disappointed by the result of her conversation
+with her cousin. It was true that Michael had tried to
+efface the severity of his own words by remarking that a third
+interview might somewhat alter his opinion of the fascinating
+widow&mdash;that he might even grow to like her in time. Audrey
+knew better. Michael had a certain genius of intuition; he
+made up his mind about people at once, and she had never
+known him to reverse his decision. As far as regarded the
+younger members of the Blake family, they would still be able
+to work happily together. Michael was certainly much interested
+in Kester; he had adopted him in the same manner
+as she had adopted Mollie. It was a comfort also that he
+approved of Mr. Blake. Michael had spoken of him with
+decided approval, and without any stint or limit of praise;
+nevertheless she was well aware that Michael would willingly
+have restricted their intimacy, and that he saw with some
+reluctance her father's growing partiality for the young master.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had only spoken the simple truth when she owned
+that Michael's approval was necessary to her perfect enjoyment
+of her friend. She might still maintain her own opinions of
+Mrs. Blake. Nevertheless, the first fine flavour of her pleasure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">{138}</a></span>
+had been destroyed by Michael's severe criticism; the delicate
+bloom had been impaired. She would hold fast to her new
+friend; she would even be kinder to her, as though to make up
+for other people's hard speeches; but much of her enthusiasm
+must be locked in her own breast.</p>
+
+<p>'What is the use of talking on a subject on which we
+should only disagree?' she said to him a week or two afterwards,
+when he had rebuked her playfully for not telling him something.
+'It was only a trifling matter connected with Mrs.
+Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>And when he heard that, Michael held his peace. He had
+been thrown constantly into Mrs. Blake's company since their
+first meeting, but as yet he had not seen fit to change his
+opinions.</p>
+
+<p>But in spite of this little rift in her perfect harmony,
+Audrey thoroughly enjoyed the next month; she was almost
+sorry that the vacation was so near. It had been a very gay
+month. Relays of visitors&mdash;distant relations or mere friends&mdash;had
+been invited to Woodcote and Hillside. Mrs. Ross's
+garden-party had rivalled Mrs. Charrington's, and there had
+been a succession of picnics, driving parties, and small select
+dinners at all the Hill houses. But in spite of her many
+engagements&mdash;her afternoons on the cricket-field, the tennis
+tournament, in which she and Cyril Blake won, and various
+other gaieties&mdash;Audrey had not neglected Mollie. Twice a week
+she devoted an hour and a half to her pupil. When the
+music-lesson was over, Audrey would read French with her or
+correct her exercises. She was a very conscientious mistress,
+and would not allow Mollie to waste any of her time in idle
+gossip. When she was putting away her books, Mollie's
+voluble tongue would make amends for the enforced silence.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Miss Ross,' she exclaimed one day, 'do you know,
+Cyril has given mamma such a beautiful present! You will
+never guess what it is!'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey prudently refrained from any guesses; besides, she
+was still correcting Mollie's translation.</p>
+
+<p>'It is a black silk dress&mdash;a real beauty, as mamma says.
+She has borrowed Miss Marshall's last copy of the Queen, and
+she means to make it up herself. Mamma is so clever! It is
+to have a long train; at least, a moderately long train, and an
+open bodice&mdash;open in front, you know&mdash;with tulle folds.
+Oh, I forget exactly; but mamma explained it to me so
+nicely!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">{139}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'It was very kind of your brother,' observed Audrey
+gravely.</p>
+
+<p>For once Mollie was not checked.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; isn't he a darling for thinking of it? He went to
+Attenborough himself and chose it, and mamma thought he was
+on the cricket-field all the time. He got her a pair of long
+gloves, too. Cyril always thinks of everything. Mamma cried
+when she opened the parcel, she was so pleased; and then
+Cyril laughed at her. The worst of it is'&mdash;and here Mollie's
+face lengthened a little&mdash;'Kester will have to wait for his new
+suit, and the poor boy is so shabby! Cyril went up to his
+room to tell him so; because his leg was so painful, he had
+gone to bed early. Of course, Kester said he did not mind a
+bit, and he would much rather that mamma had her new gown
+and could go out and enjoy herself; but, all the same, it is a
+little hard for Kester, is it not?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think boys care about their clothes quite so much
+as girls do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, but Kester does; he is almost as particular as Cyril.
+He does love to have everything nice, and I know he is
+ashamed of that old jacket. He has outgrown it, too, and the
+sleeves are so short; and now he is so much with Captain
+Burnett, he feels it all the more. Oh, do you know, Miss
+Ross'&mdash;interrupting herself&mdash;'Captain Burnett is going to
+drive Kester to Brail in his dogcart!'</p>
+
+<p>'That will be very nice. But, Mollie, you really must
+leave off chattering; you have translated this sentence quite
+wrongly. This is not one bit the sense.' And Mollie did at
+last consent to hold her tongue.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey took her mother into her confidence that afternoon
+as they were dining together, and told her the whole story
+about the black silk dress. Mrs. Ross was much interested.</p>
+
+<p>'How very nice of him!' she said, in just the sympathetic
+tone that Audrey expected to hear. 'I said from the first that
+I liked Mr. Blake; I told your father so. He is a good son.
+I am not a bit surprised that his mother dotes on him. I am
+sure I should if he were my son;' and Mrs. Ross heaved a
+gentle little sigh under her lace mantle.</p>
+
+<p>She knew her husband had ardently desired a son, and,
+until Michael's troubles had made him almost an inmate of the
+house, there had been a certain void and unfulfilled longing in
+Dr. Ross's breast. Not that he ever spoke of such things; but
+his wife knew him so well.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">{140}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps one day he will have a grandson,' she thought;
+for her motherly imagination loved to stretch itself into the
+future.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you think we might ask Mrs. Blake to dinner next
+week, when your cousin Rose is here?' she observed presently.
+'Rosie will be charmed with her; and we could get the Cardells
+to meet her, and perhaps the Vicar and Mrs. Boyle. You
+know they have not been to dine with us for a long time.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well, mother. I have not the slightest objection,'
+returned Audrey, who had in fact been leading up to this. 'I
+suppose you will ask Gage too?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, of course!' for Mrs. Ross never considered any party
+complete without the presence of her eldest daughter. 'We
+must find out which day will suit her best.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not believe Percival will let her come,' returned
+Audrey calmly. 'He says she is going out too much, and
+tiring herself dreadfully. I heard him tell her that he meant
+to be more strict with her for the future.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Percival, how good he is to her! I always told your
+father that he would make her an excellent husband. Your
+father was not a bit enthusiastic at first&mdash;he liked Percival,
+and thought him an exceedingly able man; but he never did
+think anyone good enough for his girls. You will find him
+hard to please when your turn comes, Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'My turn will be long in coming,' she replied lightly.
+'Well, if Percival prove himself a tyrant, whom do you mean
+to have in Gage's place?' And then they resumed the subject
+of the dinner-party.</p>
+
+<p>Things turned out as Audrey predicted: Mr. Harcourt
+would not allow his wife to accept her mother's invitation.</p>
+
+<p>'She has been over-exerting herself, and must keep quiet,'
+he said to his mother-in-law when he next saw her at Hillside.
+'I tell her that unless she is prudent, and takes things more
+quietly, she will not be fit for her journey to Scotland&mdash;and
+then all our plans will be upset.'</p>
+
+<p>For a charming arrangement had been made for the summer
+vacation. Dr. Ross had taken a cottage in the Highlands for
+his family, and Mr. Harcourt had secured a smaller one, about
+half a mile off, for himself and his wife. Michael was to form
+part of the Ross household, and during the last week or two he
+and Audrey had been putting their heads together over a benevolent
+scheme for taking Kester. There was a spare room in
+their cottage, and Mrs. Ross had asked Audrey if she would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">{141}</a></span>
+like one of her cousins to accompany them. Audrey had hesitated
+for the moment. Mollie had been in her thoughts, but
+when she had hinted at this to Michael, he had said somewhat
+decidedly that, in his opinion, Kester ought to be the one to
+have the treat.</p>
+
+<p>'He would be company for me, too,' he added, 'when you
+and your father go on your fishing expeditions. And he will
+not be a bad third, either, when you honour us with your
+company.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had a great wish to take Mollie. She thought how
+the girl would enjoy those long rambles across the purple
+moors, but she was open to reason: as Michael had pointed out
+to her, Kester certainly needed the change more than Mollie.
+It would be good for Michael to have a companion when she
+and her father and Percival went on one of their long expeditions.
+The boy had been drooping sadly of late&mdash;the heat
+tried him&mdash;and, as Audrey knew, Biddy's homely dishes
+seldom tempted his sickly appetite.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt was not aware of this little plan. When he
+uttered his marital protest Geraldine looked at her mother with
+a sort of resigned despair.</p>
+
+<p>'You hear what Percy says, mother. I suppose you must
+ask someone else in my place.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I am not going without you,' returned her husband
+good-naturedly. 'Your mother would not want me, my dear,
+under those circumstances. We will stay at home, like Darby
+and Joan, by our own ingle-side.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, then you can ask the Drummonds,' went on Geraldine,
+in a relieved voice. 'Audrey ought to have reminded you of
+them, but she seems to think only of the Blakes. I suppose
+you will be obliged to ask Mr. Blake, too, mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, certainly, my dear. Mrs. Blake would not like to
+come without her son. It will be a large party, but&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it cannot be helped, I suppose; but Percy and I
+think it is rather a pity&mdash;&mdash;' Here Geraldine gave a slight
+cough, warned by a look from her husband.</p>
+
+<p>'What is a pity, my dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it does not matter&mdash;at least, Percy does not wish me
+to speak.'</p>
+
+<p>'Geraldine is rather like the dog in the manger,' interrupted
+Mr. Harcourt. 'Because I will not let her come to your
+dinner-party, she would rather you did not have one at all.
+That is it, isn't it, Jerry?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">{142}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross smiled benevolently at this little sally. She
+liked to hear her son-in-law's jokes. She never joked Geraldine
+herself, and so she seldom saw that girlish blush that was so
+becoming.</p>
+
+<p>When she had taken her leave, Geraldine said to her
+husband:</p>
+
+<p>'Why did you stop me just now when I was dropping that
+hint about Mr. Blake?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because I thought the hint premature, my dear,' he returned
+drily, 'and because it is not our place to warn Mr. Blake off the
+premises; he is not the first young man, and I do not expect
+he will be the last, to admire Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Percy, I am quite sure that Mr. Blake is too handsome
+and too attractive altogether to be a harmless admirer.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pooh! nonsense, my love. Don't let your imagination run
+away with you. Audrey is too sensible a girl to let herself fall
+in love with a young fellow like Blake. Now shall I go on
+with our book?' For that day Geraldine was considered an
+invalid, and as her husband thought fit to indulge and make
+much of her, she was not so sure she disliked her passing indisposition,
+any more than Mr. Harcourt disliked playing Darby to
+his handsome Joan.</p>
+
+<p>The dinner-party passed off well, and Mrs. Blake looked so
+lovely in her new gown that she made quite a sensation, and
+the Vicar observed to his wife afterwards 'that she was the
+nicest and most agreeable woman he had met for a long time.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Boyle received this eulogium a little coldly. She was
+a fat, dumpy little person, with a round, good-natured face that
+had once been pretty. 'Bernard might admire Mrs. Blake,' she
+said to herself,&mdash;'she was the sort of woman men always raved
+about; but for her part she was not sure she admired her style,'
+but she had the rare magnanimity to keep her opinions to herself.
+Mrs. Boyle never contradicted her husband after the
+peevish manner of some wives.</p>
+
+<p>The term was drawing to a close now, and Mollie's face
+lengthened a little every day. Audrey had mooted the scheme
+to her father during a walk they had together, and Dr. Ross,
+who was one of the most benevolent and kindly of men, had at
+once given his consent, and had promised to speak to Michael,
+who carried it through with a high hand.</p>
+
+<p>Great was the rejoicing in the Blake household. Poor
+Kester had turned red and white by turns, and could hardly
+speak a word, so intense was his surprise; but Audrey, who saw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">{143}</a></span>
+the lad's agony of embarrassment, assured him that there was no
+need for him to speak, and that everything was settled.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril was almost as embarrassed when he came in to thank
+them that evening.</p>
+
+<p>'I have never heard of such kindness in my life,' he said
+eagerly, when he found Audrey alone; for the others were all
+in the garden, as she told him. 'I will go to them directly.
+Of course I must speak to Captain Burnett. I hear it is his
+thought. Am I interrupting you?' looking at her open desk.
+'May I stay a moment?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly, if you like.'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey did not resume her seat. She stood by the
+lamp, its crimson shade casting ruddy gleams over her white
+dress. She had coiled her hair loosely&mdash;Audrey was given to
+dressing herself hurriedly&mdash;and one long plait had become unfastened.
+It looked so smooth and brown against her white
+neck. At such moments Audrey certainly looked pretty. Perhaps
+Cyril thought so, for he looked at her long and earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>'I hardly know how to thank you all,' he went on almost
+abruptly. 'My mother feels the same. It is such a weight off
+my mind. You know, I am going to Cornwall myself; one of
+our Keble men has invited me. His father has a nice place
+near Truro.'</p>
+
+<p>'That will be a pleasant change for you,' she observed
+sympathetically.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I always turn up trumps,' he replied brightly. 'Last
+Christmas, and again at Easter, I had heaps of invitations. I
+was only bothering myself about Kester: he looked so seedy,
+you know, and it seemed such hard lines for him, poor boy! to
+see me go off and enjoy myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, you see, Kester means to enjoy himself too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't I know that? He is a lucky fellow!' and Cyril
+sighed&mdash;a good honest sigh it was, too, for Audrey heard it.
+'Just fancy seven weeks in paradise!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it is very lovely there,' she answered demurely; and
+then she discovered the stray lock, and pinned it up hastily.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I was not meaning the place&mdash;though, of course, everyone
+knows Braemar has its advantages. I think one's happiness
+depends more on the society one has. Don't you think so
+too, Miss Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay you are right. Well, we shall have my sister and
+her husband, and Kester and Captain Burnett; so we shall be
+a nice party.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">{144}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, of course Captain Burnett is going?' returned
+Cyril, in a dubious tone.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and I suppose you think he is lucky too?' and there
+was a gleam of fun in Audrey's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Not more so than usual; the gate of paradise is never shut
+on Captain Burnett.'</p>
+
+<p>But though Cyril laughed as he made this little speech, there
+was no expression of mirth in his eyes. But Audrey chose to
+consider it a joke.</p>
+
+<p>'If you talk in this manner, I shall think you envy Kester
+his treat.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid I do envy him, Miss Ross. If Kester and I
+could only change places&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>He checked himself as though he had said too much, and
+turned to the window.</p>
+
+<p>'You will find them all on the circular bench,' she said,
+sitting down to her desk again. 'When I have finished my
+letter I will join you.' And Cyril took the hint.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish he would not say such things; but, of course, he is
+only joking,' thought Audrey. But in her heart she knew he
+was not joking. Could she be ignorant that on all possible
+occasions Mr. Blake followed her like a shadow&mdash;a very quiet,
+unobtrusive shadow; but, nevertheless, he seemed always near.
+Could she be blind to the wistful looks that seemed to watch
+her on all occasions, and that interpreted her every wish?
+Perhaps no one else noticed them&mdash;Audrey fervently hoped not&mdash;unless
+it were his mother. And here Audrey reddened at
+the remembrance of certain vague hints and innuendoes that
+had latterly made her uncomfortable, and hindered her from
+going to the Gray Cottage.</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps I am too friendly with him. I do not check him
+sufficiently,' she thought. 'But he has never said such things
+before. He ought not; I must not allow it. What would
+Gage or Michael say? Dear old Michael! how excited he is
+about our Scotch trip! He says he shall be so pleased to have
+my undivided attention again. I wonder, have I been less nice
+to Michael lately? He has certainly seemed more dull than
+usual. I will make up for it&mdash;I will indeed! Michael shall
+never be dull if I can help it, I mean to devote myself to him.'
+And then Audrey took up her pen with a sigh. Was she really
+glad the term was so nearly over? It had been such a nice
+summer. Of course she would enjoy Scotland, with all her own
+people round her, and there would be Kester. Kester would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">{145}</a></span>
+write to his brother sometimes, and, of course, there would be
+letters in reply. That would be pleasant. Oh yes, everything
+was delightful! And with this final thought Audrey set herself
+resolutely to work, and finished her letter just in time to
+see Cyril take his leave. He had waited for her with the
+utmost impatience, but when Mrs. Ross complained of chilliness,
+and proposed to return to the house, he had no excuse for
+lingering any longer, and Michael, with some alacrity, had
+accompanied him to the gate.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">{146}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>MOLLIE LETS THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Nothing is true but love, nor aught of worth;</div>
+<div class="verse">Love is the incense which doth sweeten earth.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Trench.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>'Oh dear, Miss Ross, what shall I do without you for seven
+whole weeks?' was Mollie's piteous lament one morning.
+Audrey was on her knees packing a huge travelling box, and
+Mollie, seated on the edge of a chair, was regarding her with
+round, melancholy eyes. It was the first day of the vacation,
+and Rutherford looked as empty and deserted as some forsaken
+city. Utter silence reigned in the lower school, from which the
+fifty boys had departed; and Mrs. Draper, the matron, had
+uttered more than once her usual formula of parting benediction
+as the last urchin drove off: 'There, bless them! they are all
+packed off, bag and baggage, thank Heaven! and not a missing
+collar or sock among them'&mdash;an ejaculation that Michael once
+declared was a homely Te Deum, sacred and peculiar to the
+race of Rutherford matrons.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey straightened herself when she heard Mollie's plaintive
+lament.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Mollie, I thought you promised me that you would
+make yourself as happy as possible.'</p>
+
+<p>'I said I would try,' returned Mollie, her eyes filling with
+tears; 'but how can I help missing you? I do mean to do my
+very best&mdash;I do indeed, Miss Ross.'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, that is bravely said. I know it is hard upon you,
+my dear, taking Kester away.' But Mollie would not let her
+finish her sentence.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no; you must not say that. I am so glad for Kester
+to go. Do you know, he is so pleased and excited that he can
+hardly sleep when he goes to bed; and he wakes in the night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">{147}</a></span>
+to think about it. I do believe he loves Captain Burnett as
+much as I love you; he is always talking about him. After
+all'&mdash;here Mollie dried her eyes&mdash;'it is not so bad for me as it
+is for mamma: she is always wretched without Cyril; you
+can't think how restless and unlike herself she is when he is
+away from her; she spends half her time writing to him or
+reading his letters. Cyril always writes such nice long letters.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Kester and I will write to you; you will be glad of
+letters, too, Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>Evidently this charming idea had not occurred to Mollie,
+for she darted from her place and gave Audrey a grateful hug.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean it? will you really write to me? Oh, you
+dear thing! how I do love you!' with another hug. 'But you
+must not tire yourself, you know, or Kester either; they need
+not be long letters, but just nice little notes, that won't trouble
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, we will see about that,' returned Audrey, smiling.
+She was touched by this thoughtfulness; it was so like Mollie's
+sweet unselfishness: she never did seem to think of herself.
+'You have no idea how quickly the time will pass. Think of
+all the things you have promised to do for me!' for Audrey had
+already made all sorts of nice little plans for her favourite.
+Mollie was to have the run of the house and grounds; she was
+to bring her mother to sit in the garden every afternoon if she
+liked&mdash;Mrs. Blake would enjoy it; she was so fond of flowers&mdash;and
+Mollie could amuse herself with the canoe. Then there
+was Audrey's piano: Mollie must promise to practise her scales
+and exercises on it every day; and there was a pile of delightfully
+interesting books set apart for her use. She must see,
+too, that her pet bullfinch was not neglected, and that her
+flowers were watered; for Audrey had a pretty sitting-room of
+her own. Molly soon cheered up as Audrey recapitulated these
+privileges; she was young enough to be soon consoled. She
+readily agreed with Audrey that her mother would enjoy wandering
+about the Woodcote gardens; they would bring their books
+and work, and sit under the trees on fine afternoons.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril has been making mamma promise to begin Roman
+history with me,' continued Mollie; 'he was so shocked when
+he found out I knew nothing about Romulus and Remus.
+Was it quite true about the wolf, Miss Ross? I thought it
+sounded like a fable. Oh, do you know,' interrupting herself
+eagerly, 'I want to tell you something&mdash;Kester said I might if
+I liked: he has got two new suits of clothes.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">{148}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Audrey left off packing, and looked at Mollie in some
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>'Did you say two suits, my dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. Is it not nice, Miss Ross? But Cyril said he
+positively could not do with less than two&mdash;a rough suit for
+every day, and a better one for Sundays. I don't think Kester
+ever had two whole suits before. Mamma was pleased, but
+she thought it a little extravagant of Cyril. And he bought
+him boots and ties, oh, and other things beside!'</p>
+
+<p>'How very good of him!' and Audrey felt a warm glow of
+pleasure. She longed to question Mollie, but she prudently
+forebore: it was no business of hers if Mr. Blake chose to get
+into debt; for where could he have got the money? But her
+curiosity was soon to be satisfied; Mollie was dying to tell the
+whole story.</p>
+
+<p>'You would say so if you knew all,' she returned, with a
+mysterious air; 'mamma does not know yet. I am afraid
+when she finds out she will be terribly vexed: she does so hate
+Cyril to go without things. I think she would almost rather
+let Kester be shabby than see Cyril without&mdash;&mdash;Oh, I was
+just going to bring it out!'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey took no notice. She was folding a dress, and the
+sleeves were giving her some trouble.</p>
+
+<p>'Kester never said I was not to tell,' went on Mollie, as
+though arguing with herself. 'I don't know why I stopped
+just now. Miss Ross, have you ever noticed what a beautiful
+watch and chain Cyril wears?'</p>
+
+<p>This was too much for Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'You don't mean to say that your brother has sold his
+watch?' she asked, so abruptly that Mollie stared at her.</p>
+
+<p>'No, not his watch; he could not do without one; but he
+said the chain did not matter&mdash;a steel guard would answer the
+purpose quite as well. But it was such a lovely chain, and he
+was so proud of it! An old gentleman, General Fawcett, gave
+them to him. He was very grateful to Cyril for saving his
+grandson's life&mdash;Cyril jumped into the river, you know&mdash;and
+then the General, who was very rich, sent him the watch and
+chain, with such a beautiful letter. When Cyril saw them he
+was almost ashamed to accept them, he said they must have
+cost so much.'</p>
+
+<p>'What a pity to part with such a gift!' murmured Audrey,
+busying herself over another dress.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but, you see, Cyril had so little money, not half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">{149}</a></span>
+enough to pay for all Kester wanted&mdash;and he had bought that
+silk dress, too. Mamma would have had him get the clothes on
+credit, but Cyril has such a horror of debt. At first he would
+not let us know anything about it&mdash;he took Kester to the shop
+and had him fitted&mdash;but at last he was obliged to tell, because
+Kester missed Cyril's gold Albert chain. Kester looked ready
+to cry when he heard it was sold. He did think it such a pity,
+and he knew mamma would be so vexed. But Cyril only
+laughed at us both, and said he did not care about jewellery&mdash;he
+would be very much ashamed if Kester went to Scotland in
+his shabby old clothes; and then he begged us both to say
+nothing to mamma unless she missed the chain&mdash;she will not
+yet, because Cyril has sent his watch to be cleaned.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie, I am really afraid that you ought not to have told
+me this,' returned Audrey gravely; but there was a wonderful
+brightness in her eyes, as though the story pleased her. 'I
+think you ought to have kept your brother's secret.'</p>
+
+<p>'But he never said it was a secret, except from mamma,'
+pleaded Mollie in self-defence; 'and I wanted you to know,
+because it was so dear of Cyril. But he is just like that; he
+will do anything for Kester.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, all the same, I hope you will not tell anyone else;'
+and as Mollie looked disturbed at this, she went on: 'it will
+be quite safe with me, you know. People so often tell me
+their little secrets, and your brother need not know that you
+have told me.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, do you think he will mind? Oh no, Miss Ross! I
+am sure you are wrong about that. I was talking to him one
+evening about you, and I remember I said that I could not
+help telling you things, because you were so nice and kind;
+and Cyril answered, quite seriously, "You could never have a
+better friend than Miss Ross. You will learn nothing but
+good from her&mdash;tell her all you like. There is no one of
+whom I think more highly." And then he kissed me quite
+affectionately.'</p>
+
+<p>'But all the same, Mollie, I think you had better not
+let him know that you have told me&mdash;I mean it would only
+embarrass him;' and here Audrey got up in a hurry and went
+to her wardrobe for something she had forgotten, and when she
+came back, it was to remind Mollie of the lateness of the
+hour.</p>
+
+<p>'But this is not good-bye, you know. We shall stop at the
+Gray Cottage to-morrow morning, to pick up Kester and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">{150}</a></span>
+portmanteau.' And then, with some little difficulty, she dismissed
+Mollie.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey intended to pay a parting visit to her friend, Mr.
+O'Brien, that evening. Dr. Ross and Michael had gone up to
+London for the day, and had arranged to sleep in town, and
+Mr. Harcourt would escort the ladies and look after their
+luggage until they joined them.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had arranged with her mother that an informal
+meal should be served in the place of the ordinary late dinner,
+and that even this should be postponed until nine. It was
+impossible to walk to Brail in the heat of the afternoon&mdash;the
+weather was sultry, even at Rutherford, and Audrey proposed
+not to start until after an early tea.</p>
+
+<p>When she was ready she went in search of Booty, who had
+been left under her guardianship. She knew exactly where she
+should find him&mdash;lying on Michael's bed. Booty was always a
+spectacle of woe during his master's brief absences. At the
+sound of a footstep or an opening door below, his short legs
+would be heard pattering downstairs; there would be an
+eager search in every room, then, with a whine of disappointment
+and a heart-broken expression in his brown eyes, Booty
+would slink back again to Michael's room to lie on his pillow,
+or mount guard over some relic&mdash;a tie, a glove, or even an old
+shoe&mdash;something that he could identify as his master's property.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was the only one who could comfort Booty for the
+loss of that loved presence; but even with her, Booty was still
+a most unhappy dog. He plucked up a little spirit, however,
+at the sight of her hat, and jumped off the bed. His master
+was clearly not in the house; perhaps the road his temporary
+mistress meant to take would lead to him&mdash;even a dog wearies
+of moping, and Booty's short legs needed their usual exercise.
+He followed her, therefore, without reluctance, and even lapped
+a little water out of his special dish; but there was no joyous
+bark, no unrestrained gambols, as he trotted after her with his
+soft eyes looking out for that worshipped form that was to
+Booty the one aim and object of life, for whose special delectation
+and delight he had been created. Mrs. Ross always said
+it made her quite miserable to see Booty when Michael was
+away, and, indeed, Michael never dared to leave him for many
+days together. If anything had happened to his master the
+little animal would have pined and fretted himself to death.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose no one will ever love me as that creature does,'
+Michael once observed to Audrey; 'he has simply no will or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">{151}</a></span>
+life of his own. What a faithful friend a dog is! I believe
+Booty understands me better than most people. We have long
+conversations together sometimes&mdash;I talk, and Booty answers
+by signs.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey enjoyed her walk, but she was afraid Booty was
+tired and would need a long rest. When they reached Vineyard
+Cottage she found Mrs. Baxter mending stockings in the
+porch.</p>
+
+<p>'Father has gone out for a little stroll, Miss Ross,' she said,
+rising, with her usual subdued smile. 'He will be back
+directly. Will you come into the parlour and rest?'</p>
+
+<p>'I would rather stay here,' returned Audrey. 'I am so
+fond of this pretty old porch, and this bench is so comfortable.
+Booty is tired, Mrs. Baxter; he has been fretting because his
+master chose to go up to London to-day, and his low spirits
+have made him languid. Look at him when I say Michael&mdash;there!'
+as the dog started and sat up eagerly; 'he knows his
+name, you see.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor thing! He is as intelligent as a Christian&mdash;more
+intelligent than some Christians I know. The ways of
+Providence are strange, Miss Ross, putting a loving heart into
+an animal like that, and leaving some human beings without
+one&mdash;unless it be a heart of stone;' and here Mrs. Baxter
+sighed heavily and snapped her thread.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope things have been quiet lately,' observed Audrey,
+taking off her hat.</p>
+
+<p>'You mean, if Joe has been behaving himself?&mdash;which is a
+question I can thankfully answer at present. Joe has not been
+troubling me again, Miss Ross. I think father frightened him
+that time. Joe was always a coward; it is an evil conscience
+that makes him a coward. There is nothing else so frights a
+man. Joe couldn't treat a woman as he has treated me without
+feeling his conscience prick him sometimes.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed, Mrs. Baxter. Let us hope that he will repent
+some day.'</p>
+
+<p>'I tell father his repentance will come too late. We can't
+sow tares and reap wheat in this world, Miss Ross. "The
+wicked flee when no man pursueth." I always think of Joe
+when I read that verse. Oh, there is always comfort to be
+found in the Scriptures. "A woman forsaken and grieved in
+spirit"&mdash;do you remember those words, Miss Ross? I came
+upon them quite suddenly one evening as I was sitting in this
+very porch, and I said out loud to myself, as one does sometimes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">{152}</a></span>
+"Those words just fit you, Priscilla Baxter; they might
+be written for you."'</p>
+
+<p>'That makes the Bible such a wonderful book,' returned
+Audrey thoughtfully. 'Every form of grief finds expression
+and comfort there; there is food for every mind, every age,
+every nationality.'</p>
+
+<p>'I never saw anyone to beat father in reading the Bible,
+Miss Ross. You would be surprised to see how kindly he
+takes to it. I have known him read the Prodigal Son to
+Hannah and me on Sunday evening with the tears running
+down his face, and he not knowing it more than a baby, for
+all Hannah's sniffs. It is his favourite reading&mdash;it is, indeed,
+Miss Ross, though his voice does get choky sometimes.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is thinking of his poor brother Mat.'</p>
+
+<p>'Begging your pardon, Miss Ross, I would rather not
+mention Uncle Mat,' returned Mrs. Baxter stiffly. 'Joe has
+been a thorn in my side, heaven knows! and his wickedness
+has reduced me, his wedded wife, to skin and bone; but even
+Joe, with all his villainies, has not made himself a felon, and I
+can still bear his name without blushing&mdash;and so I have told
+father a score of times when he wants to make out that Joe
+is the blacker of the two.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I would not hurt him by speaking against his brother!
+Do you know, Mrs. Baxter, he loves him so dearly still.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but that is father's craze, Miss Ross,' she replied
+coldly. 'Even a good man has his little weakness, and, being
+a Churchwoman, and I trust humbly a believer, I would not
+deny that Providence has given me as good a father as ever
+breathed this mortal air; but we are all human, Miss Ross,
+and human nature has its frailties, and father would be a
+wiser and a happier man if he did not set such store by an
+ungrateful and good-for-nothing brother, who is a shame to his
+own flesh and blood, and whom it is a bitterness to me to own
+as my Uncle Mat.'</p>
+
+<p>'Priscilla!' ejaculated a grieved voice near them; and,
+looking round, the two women saw Mr. O'Brien standing within
+a few paces of them. No one had heard his footsteps except
+Booty, whose instincts were always gentlemanly, and who, in
+spite of his deep dejection, had given him a friendly greeting.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. O'Brien's good-natured face looked unusually grave.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-evening, Miss Ross. I thought we should see you
+before your flitting. I am sorry I stepped out for a bit, and
+so lost your company. Prissy, my girl, I don't want to find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">{153}</a></span>
+fault with you, but I'll not deny that it hurts me to hear you
+speak against Mat, poor old chap! when he is not here to
+answer for himself. It is woman-like, but it is not fair'&mdash;looking
+at them with mild reproach&mdash;'and it cuts me to hear
+it. It is not what your mother, my blessed Susan, would
+have done. She was never hard upon Mat&mdash;never!'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Baxter gave a penitent little sniff, and a faint flush
+came to her sallow face; with all her faults, she was devoted
+to her father. But she was a true daughter of Eve, and
+this well-deserved reproach only moved her to feeble recrimination.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, father, I was always taught that listeners never
+heard any good of themselves. Not that the proverb holds
+strictly true in this case; but if Uncle Mat were standing
+in your place, and heard what I said to Miss Ross, he would
+not deny I was speaking the truth&mdash;being always praised for
+my truthfulness and shaming the devil as much as possible;
+and if you are for saying that Uncle Mat was a kind brother
+to one who acted as his own father, I am bound to say that
+I do not agree with you.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, my lass; I am free to confess that Mat might have
+been kinder, and that as far as that goes you are speaking Gospel
+truth; but my Susan and I have been used to say the Lord's
+Prayer together every night; and Susan&mdash;that's your mother,
+Prissy&mdash;would sometimes whisper as we knelt down, "Tom,
+are we sure we have quite forgiven everybody? I was put
+out this afternoon with Mat;" and sometimes her voice would
+tremble a bit when she came to the words, "Forgive us our
+trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us."'
+And Mr. O'Brien took off his straw hat with old-fashioned
+reverence.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Baxter gave a little choke.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish I had left it unsaid, father, if you are going to
+take on like this,' she observed remorsefully. 'Sooner than
+grieve you, I would hold my tongue about Uncle Mat for the
+remainder of my natural life. There is nothing I would do
+sooner than have my mother quoted to me like a Scripture
+saint, as though I were not worthy to tie her shoe-string.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nay, nay, my lass, you are misunderstanding my meaning.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, father, begging your pardon, I am not; and, as I
+have often told Miss Ross, I never feel worthy to be the offspring
+of such parents. Miss Ross'&mdash;turning to her&mdash;'my
+father is a little low this evening, and I have put him out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">{154}</a></span>
+his usual way. I will leave you to talk to him a bit while
+I open a bottle of our white currant wine to hearten you for
+your walk home.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor Prissy!' observed Mr. O'Brien, shaking his gray
+head; 'she is a worrier, as Susan used to say; but her bark
+is worse than her bite. She is a good soul, and I would not
+change her for one of the lively sort.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is really very sorry for having pained you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sorry! Bless my heart, you don't know Prissy. She
+will be that contrite for showing the sharp edge of her tongue
+that there will be nothing she will not do to make amends.
+It will be, "Father, what will you have?" and, "Father, do
+you think you could enjoy that?" from morning to night, as
+though I were a new-born babe to be tended. No, no, you
+are not up to Prissy. She has not got her mother's sweet,
+charitable nature&mdash;my Susan, bless her dear heart! always
+thought the best of everybody&mdash;but Prissy is a good girl, for
+all that.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey smiled as she drew down a tendril of jasmine to
+inhale its honeyed fragrance. There was not much girlhood
+left in the faded, sorrowful woman who had left them just
+now; but in the father's fond eyes Priscilla would always be
+a girl. Then, in her serious, sweet way, she began to talk
+to her old friend&mdash;drawing him out, and listening to those
+vague, far old memories that seemed dearer to him day by
+day, until he had grown soothed and comforted.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Baxter joined them by and by, but she did not interrupt
+them, except to press another slice of the home-made
+cake on Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>When she rose to go, father and daughter accompanied
+her to the gate, and wished her a hearty God-speed.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-bye, my dear old friends,' she returned cheerfully;
+'in seven weeks I shall hope to see you again. Take care of
+Mr. O'Brien, Mrs. Baxter.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, Miss Ross, I will take care of him. It is not
+as if one could have a second parent. Father, put on your
+hat; the dews are falling, and you are not as young as you
+used to be.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">{155}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>AMONG THE BRAIL LANES</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Discreet reserve in a woman, like the distances kept by royal personages,
+contributes to maintain the proper reverence. Most of our pleasures
+are prized in proportion to the difficulty with which they are obtained.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Fordyce.</span></p>
+
+<p>'A very slight spark will kindle a flame when everything lies open to
+catch it.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Sir Walter Scott.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>While Audrey was talking to her old friend in the jasmine-covered
+porch of Vineyard Cottage, Cyril Blake was sitting on
+a stile in one of the Brail lanes, trying to solve a difficult
+problem.</p>
+
+<p>A domestic matter had come under his notice that very
+afternoon&mdash;a very ordinary occurrence, if he had only known
+it&mdash;and had caused him much vexation. Not being more
+clear-sighted than other young men of his age, it is extremely
+doubtful whether he would have noticed it at all but for a few
+words spoken by Miss Ross.</p>
+
+<p>A week or two ago he had observed casually to her, as they
+were standing together on the cricket-field, that he thought
+Mollie was growing very fast.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose she is strong,' he added doubtfully; 'but she has
+certainly seemed very tired lately'&mdash;this reflection being forced
+upon him by a remark of Kester's, 'that Mollie had such a lot
+of headaches now.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid Mollie is very often tired,' returned Audrey
+rather gravely.</p>
+
+<p>Now, there was nothing in this simple remark to arrest
+Cyril's attention; but somehow Audrey's tone implied a good
+deal, and, though no further word passed between them on the
+subject, Cyril was left with an uncomfortable impression, though
+it was too vague and intangible to be understood by him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">{156}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But on this afternoon in question he was rummaging among
+his possessions for some studs he had mislaid, and, thinking
+Mollie would help him in the search, he went in quest of her.
+He found her in the close little kitchen, ironing a pile of
+handkerchiefs and starched things. The place felt like an oven
+that hot summer's afternoon, and poor Mollie's face was sadly
+flushed; she looked worried and overheated, and it was then
+that Audrey's words flashed on him with a sort of electrical
+illumination&mdash;'I am afraid Mollie is very often tired.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you want me, Cyril?' asked Mollie, a little wearily, as
+she tested another iron and then put it down again.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes&mdash;no, it does not matter,' rather absently. 'Mollie, is
+there no one else who can do that work? This place is like a
+brick-kiln.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, there is only Biddy, you know, and she does get
+up the things so badly. You remember how you grumbled
+about your handkerchiefs&mdash;and no wonder, for they looked as
+though they were rough-dried&mdash;and so mamma said I had
+better do them for the future, because I could iron so nicely;'
+and Mollie gave a look of pride at the snowy pile beside her.</p>
+
+<p>But Cyril was not so easily mollified.</p>
+
+<p>'I would rather have my things badly done than see you
+slave in this fashion,' he returned, with unwonted irritation.
+'Mollie, does Miss Ross know you do this sort of thing?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, of course; I always tell Miss Ross everything.'</p>
+
+<p>'She must have a pretty good opinion of us by this time,'
+in a vexed voice.</p>
+
+<p>'She knows it cannot be helped,' returned Mollie simply.
+'She did say one day that she was very sorry for me, when
+she saw how tired I was&mdash;oh, she was so dear and sweet that
+day!&mdash;and once when I told her how my back ached, and I
+could not help crying a little, she said she would like to speak
+to mamma about me, but that she knew it was no business of
+hers.'</p>
+
+<p>'Anyhow, I shall make it my business,' returned her brother
+decidedly; and he marched off to the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake was sitting in the window, marking some of
+Kester's new socks. She looked very cool and comfortable;
+the room was sweet with the scent of flowers. The contrast
+between her and Mollie struck Cyril very forcibly, and when
+his mother looked up at him with one of her caressing smiles,
+he did not respond with his customary brightness.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother, I want to talk to you about Mollie,' he said with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">{157}</a></span>
+unusual abruptness, as he threw himself down in a cushioned
+chair opposite his mother's little work-table.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dear,' she returned tranquilly, pausing to admire an
+exquisitely-worked initial.</p>
+
+<p>'I found her in the kitchen just now, with her face the
+colour of a peony, ironing out a lot of things. The place was
+like a furnace; I could not have stood it for a quarter of an
+hour. Surely, mother, there is no need for Mollie to slave in
+this way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you call ironing a few fine things slavery?' replied Mrs.
+Blake in an amused voice. 'In our great-grandmothers' time
+girls did more than that. Mollie is not overworked, I assure
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then what makes her look so done up?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that is nothing! She is growing so fast, you know;
+and growing girls have that look. Mollie is as strong as a
+horse, really&mdash;at her age I was far weaker. Mollie is a good
+child, but she is a little given to grumbling and making a fuss
+about trifles.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I don't agree with you there.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is because you do not understand girls,' returned his
+mother composedly. 'But you may safely leave Mollie to me.
+Am I likely to overwork one of my own children? Should I
+be worthy of the name of mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but you might not see your way to help it&mdash;that is,
+as long as you persist in your ridiculous resolution of keeping
+Biddy. Why, she ought to have been shelved long ago.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is my affair, Cyril,' replied Mrs. Blake with unusual
+dignity.</p>
+
+<p>She hardly ever spoke to him in that voice, and he looked
+up a little surprised.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope we are not going to quarrel, motherling,' his pet
+name for her.</p>
+
+<p>'Do we ever quarrel, darling? No, you only vex me when
+you talk of sending poor old Biddy away. I could not do it,
+Cyril. I am not naturally a hard-hearted woman, and it would
+be sheer cruelty to turn off my old nurse. Where would she
+go, poor old thing? And you know yourself we cannot afford
+another servant.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not at present, certainly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps we may in the future&mdash;who knows?' returned
+Mrs. Blake with restored gaiety; 'and until then a little work
+will not hurt Mollie. Do you know, when I was a girl, my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">{158}</a></span>
+mother always insisted on my sister Dora and myself making
+our own beds&mdash;she said it would straighten our backs&mdash;and she
+liked us to run up and down stairs and make ourselves useful,
+because the exercise would improve our carriage and complexion.
+Dora had such a pretty figure, poor girl! and I think mine is
+passable,' drawing herself up to give effect to her words.</p>
+
+<p>'You, mother? You are as slim and as graceful as a girl
+now!' returned Cyril admiringly. Then, recurring to his subject
+with a man's persistence, 'I don't believe you did half so
+much as poor Mollie does.'</p>
+
+<p>'And what does she do?' asked Mrs. Blake, still mildly
+obstinate. 'She only supplements poor old Biddy. A little
+dusting, a little bed-making; now and then, perhaps, a trifle of
+ironing. What is that for a strong, healthy girl like Mollie?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but Mollie has to be educated,' replied Cyril, only
+half convinced by this plausible statement. 'These things may
+be only trifles, as you say, but they take up a good deal of
+time. You know, mother dear, how often I complain of the
+desultory way Mollie's lessons are carried on.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is because Mollie and I are such wretched managers,'
+she returned eagerly. 'I am a feckless body, I know; and
+Mollie takes after me&mdash;we both hate running in grooves.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie is young enough to learn better ways,' was Cyril's
+grave answer. 'As for you, mother, you are hopeless,' with a
+shake of his head.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you will never mend or alter me,' she rejoined with
+a light laugh. 'I am Irish to the backbone. Now, my boy,
+you really must not keep me any longer with all this nonsense
+about Mollie. I have to go up to Rosendale, you know; Mrs.
+Cardell begged me to sit with her a little, and I am late now.
+Mollie will give you your tea. Come&mdash;have you forgiven your
+mother?' passing her white taper fingers over his dark hair as
+she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril's only answer was to draw her face down to his.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake smiled happily at him as she left the room&mdash;what
+did she care if only everything were right between her and
+her idolised boy? But Cyril was not so satisfied. With all
+his love for his mother, he was by no means blind to her many
+faults. He knew she was far too partial in her treatment of
+her children&mdash;that she was often thoughtless of Kester's comfort,
+and a little hard in her judgment of him; and she was
+not always judicious with respect to Mollie. At times she was
+lax, and left the girl to her own devices; but in certain moods,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">{159}</a></span>
+when Cyril had been speaking to her, perhaps, there would be
+nothing right. It was then that Mollie was accused of untidiness
+and feckless ways, when hints of idleness were dropped,
+and strict rules, never to be carried out, were made. Mollie
+must do a copy every day; she wrote worse than a child of
+ten. Her ignorance of geography was disgraceful; she had no
+idea where the Tigris was, and she could not name half the
+counties in Scotland, and so on. For four-and-twenty hours
+Mollie would be drilled, put through her facings, lectured, and
+made generally miserable; but by the next morning or so the
+educational cleaning would be over. 'Mother wasn't in a mood
+for teaching,' Mollie would say in her artless fashion as she
+carried away her books.</p>
+
+<p>'No; he could not alter his mother's nature,' Cyril thought
+sadly. He could only do the best he could for them all. He
+was clever enough to see that his mother was wilfully shutting
+her eyes to her own mismanagement of Mollie, and that she
+preferred drifting on in this happy-go-lucky fashion. With all
+her energy and fits of industry, she was extremely indolent, and
+never liked taking trouble about anything. No; it was no use
+talking to her any more about Mollie, unless he had some
+definite suggestion to make&mdash;and then it was that he wondered
+if Miss Ross would help him; she always helped everyone, and
+he knew that she was in full possession of the facts.</p>
+
+<p>'I am not a bit ashamed of our poverty,' thought Cyril, as
+he plunged down the sweet, dewy lanes. 'One day I shall get
+on, and be any man's equal; but the only thing that troubles
+me is the idea that she thinks us too hard on Mollie. She has
+never said so, of course; but somehow it is so easy to read her
+thoughts&mdash;she is more transparent than other people.' And
+Cyril heaved a deep sigh. 'I wonder what she will think when
+she sees me. I do not want her to know that I am looking
+out for her. Everyone has a right to take an evening walk if
+he likes; and, of course, the roads are open to all. Even without
+this excuse I meant to do it; for after this evening&mdash;&mdash;'
+And then Cyril groaned to himself as he thought of the seven
+long blank weeks that stretched before him, when a certain
+sweet face would be missing; and at that moment he espied
+the gleam of a white dress between the hedgerows.</p>
+
+<p>Now, Audrey was right in saying Booty was a spoilt dog.
+He was as full of whimsies this evening as spoilt children
+generally are. He had testified extreme delight when Audrey
+had closed the gate of Vineyard Cottage behind her. By some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">{160}</a></span>
+curious canine train of reasoning he had arrived at the conviction
+that his master was at Woodcote&mdash;had probably arrived
+there during their absence; and with this pleasing notion he
+pattered cheerfully after Audrey down the long grass lanes.
+But Audrey walked fast, and being rather late, she walked all
+the faster; and Booty, who was used to Michael's leisurely
+pace, began to lag behind and to hold out signals of distress.
+'Oh, Booty, Booty!' exclaimed Audrey, regarding the little
+animal indulgently; 'and so I am to carry you, just because
+your legs are so absurdly short that they tire easily.' Evidently
+this was what Booty wished, for he sat up and waved his paws
+in an irresistible way. 'Very well, I will carry you, old fellow;
+but you are dreadfully spoilt, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, you shall do nothing of the kind, Miss Ross;' and
+Cyril jumped off the stile. 'I will carry him for you;' and
+Cyril hoisted him up on his arm, being rewarded by an affectionate
+dab on his nose from Booty's busy tongue.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had coloured slightly when she first caught sight of
+Cyril's tall figure; but she suppressed her surprise.</p>
+
+<p>'Is this a favourite walk of yours?' she asked carelessly, as
+though it were a usual thing to meet Mr. Blake wandering
+about the Brail lanes.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril was quite equal to the occasion. He hardly knew
+which was his favourite walk; he was trying them all by turns.
+He had taken his mother to Brail once, and she had been
+much pleased with the village. There was one cottage she
+thought very pretty&mdash;indeed, they had both fallen in love with
+it; it had a quaint old porch, smothered in jasmine.</p>
+
+<p>'That is Vineyard Cottage, where my friends the O'Briens
+live,' replied Audrey, only half deceived by this smooth account.</p>
+
+<p>It was clear that Mr. Blake wished her to think that only
+purest accident had guided his feet in the direction of Brail;
+but Audrey was sharp-witted, and she knew Mollie had a
+tongue; it would be so natural for her to say, 'Miss Ross is
+going to see some old friends at Brail&mdash;she told me so; but it
+is so hot that she will not go until after tea.' Once before she
+had been sure that Mollie's chattering had set Mr. Blake on
+her track. She must be more careful how she talked to Mollie
+for the future.</p>
+
+<p>But here Cyril, who was somewhat alarmed at her gravity,
+and who half guessed at her thoughts, began to speak about
+Mollie in an anxious, brotherly manner that restored Audrey
+at once to ease.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">{161}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'So you see all the difficulty,' he continued after he had
+briefly stated the facts; 'and I should be so grateful if you
+could help me to any solution. I ought to apologise for
+troubling you, but I know you take such an interest in
+Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do indeed,' she returned cordially, and in a moment
+every trace of constraint vanished from her manner; 'and, to
+tell you the truth, Mr. Blake, I have felt rather anxious about
+her lately. Even my mother has noticed how far from strong
+she looks.'</p>
+
+<p>'But that is because she is growing so fast,' he replied, unconsciously
+repeating Mrs. Blake's words. 'You see, Miss
+Ross, my mother absolutely refuses to part with Biddy. I
+have argued with her again and again, but nothing will induce
+her to send the old woman away. She also declares that she
+cannot afford another servant, so what is to be done?' and
+Cyril sighed as though he had all the labours of Hercules
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey looked at him very kindly; she was much touched
+by this confidence. How few young men, she thought,
+would have been so simple and straightforward! There was
+no false pride in the way he mentioned their small means and
+homely contrivances; he spoke to her quite frankly, as though
+he knew she was their friend, and as though he trusted her.
+It was the purest flattery, the most delicious homage he could
+have offered her. Audrey felt her sympathy quicken as she
+listened.</p>
+
+<p>'I would not trouble about it just now,' she observed
+cheerfully&mdash;'not until the vacation is over. Mollie will have
+very little to do while you and Kester are away.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is true,' he returned, in a relieved tone; for he had
+not thought of that.</p>
+
+<p>'When we all come back we might hit upon some plan.
+Do you think your mother would object to having in a woman
+two or three times a week to help Biddy? I think I know a
+person who would just do&mdash;Rebecca Armstrong. She does not
+want to leave home; but she is a strong, capable girl, and
+could easily do all the rough work&mdash;and she is very moderate
+in her charges. I could inquire about her, if you like.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is an excellent idea,' he replied, inwardly wondering
+why it had not occurred to his mother. 'I am so grateful to
+you for suggesting it. I am quite sure my mother will not
+object; so by all means let us have this Rebecca.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">{162}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Shall I tell your mother about her?'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps I had better speak to her first; there is no hurry,
+as you say. Really, Miss Ross, you have lifted a burden off
+my mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad!' with a smile. 'You see, Mr. Blake, it will
+be so nice for Mollie to have her mornings to herself. She has
+told me two or three times that she finds it impossible to work
+in the afternoon, there are so many interruptions; and by that
+time she is generally so tired&mdash;or stupid, as she calls it&mdash;that
+she cannot even add up her sums.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, we will alter all that!' replied Cyril lightly.</p>
+
+<p>He had discharged his duty, and now he did not want to
+talk about Mollie any more. From the first he had always
+felt conscious of a feeling of well-being, of utter contentment,
+when he was in the presence of this girl; it made him happy
+only to be with her. But this evening they were so utterly
+alone; the whole world was shut out by those barriers of grassy
+lanes and still green meadows, with their groups of slowly-feeding
+cattle.</p>
+
+<p>The evening air was full of dewy freshness, and only the
+twittering of birds broke the stillness. A subtle sweetness
+seemed to distil through the young man's veins as he glanced
+at his companion; involuntarily, his voice softened.</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder where you will be this time to-morrow?' he said,
+rather abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>'We are to sleep at York, you know. Geraldine wants to
+see the Minster.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, I remember; Captain Burnett told me;' and then
+he began questioning her about Braemar. Could she describe
+it to him? He had never been in Scotland, and he would
+like to picture the place to himself. He should ask Kester to
+send him a photograph or two.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was quite willing to satisfy him. She had been
+there already, and had seen their cottage. She could tell him
+all about their two parlours, and the little garden running down
+to the beck. But Cyril's curiosity was insatiable; he wanted
+to know presently how she would employ herself and what
+books she would read.</p>
+
+<p>'For you will have wet days,' he added&mdash;'saft days, I
+think they call them&mdash;and then time will hang heavily on your
+hands unless you have plenty of books.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Michael has seen to that,' she replied brightly.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow, Michael's name was perpetually cropping up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">{163}</a></span>
+'My cousin and I mean to do that,' or 'Michael means to help
+me with that,' until Cyril's face grew slightly lugubrious.</p>
+
+<p>True, he tried to console himself with the remembrance of
+Audrey's words that she and Geraldine looked upon Michael as
+a sort of brother; still, he never did quite approve of this sort
+of adopted relationship. It was always a mistake, he thought;
+and in time people found it out for themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Of course he was Miss Ross's cousin&mdash;or, rather, her father's
+cousin&mdash;but even that did not explain matters comfortably to
+his mind; and when a man has a Victoria Cross, and is looked
+upon in the light of a hero, it is a little difficult for other men
+not to envy him.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril began to feel less happy. The walk was nearly at an
+end, too. Some of the light and cheerfulness seemed to fade
+out of the landscape; a chill breath permeated the summer
+air.</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey went on talking in her lively, girlish way. She
+was quite unconscious of the sombre tinge that had stolen over
+Cyril's thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, to-morrow we shall be more than a hundred miles
+away; and the next day you will be <i>en route</i> for Cornwall.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose so.'</p>
+
+<p>'You will have a very pleasant time, I hope.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I daresay it will be pleasant enough; the house will
+be full of company&mdash;at least, Hackett says so. His people are
+very hospitable.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are there any daughters?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; there are three girls&mdash;the three Graces, as they
+were called when they came up to Commemoration.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed; were they so handsome?'</p>
+
+<p>'Some of our men thought so,' with a fine air of indifference.
+'I know Baker was smitten with one of them; it is going to
+be a match, I believe. That is Henrietta, the eldest.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose she was the handsomest?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh dear no! Miss Laura is far better looking; and so is
+the youngest, Miss Frances. In my opinion Miss Frances is
+far more taking than either of her sisters.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, indeed! I think you will have a pleasant time, Mr.
+Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I cannot say I am looking forward to it. I am afraid
+it will be rather a bore than otherwise. I would much rather
+go on working.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think you would find Rutherford very lively.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">{164}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I did not mean that!' with a reproachful glance at
+her that Audrey found rather embarrassing. 'You surely
+could not have thought I wished to remain here now'&mdash;a
+dangerous emphasis on 'now.' 'Why, it would be the abomination
+of desolation, a howling wilderness.'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought you were fond of Rutherford.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was not particularly brilliant in her remarks just
+now; she was not good at this sort of fencing. She had a dim
+idea that she ought to discourage this sort of thing; but she
+did so hate snubbing anyone, and, in spite of his youth, Mr.
+Blake was rather formidable.</p>
+
+<p>'So I do&mdash;I love Rutherford!' he returned, with such
+vehemence that Audrey was startled, and Booty tried anxiously
+to lick him again. 'It was a blessed day that brought us all
+here&mdash;I wonder how often I say that to myself&mdash;but all the
+same&mdash;&mdash;' he paused, seemed to recollect himself, and went on&mdash;'it
+must be very dull in vacation time.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, of course,' she said quickly. It was rather a tame
+conclusion to his sentence; but Audrey breathed more freely.
+She was almost glad they had reached Rutherford, and that in
+a few minutes Woodcote would be in view.</p>
+
+<p>They were both a little silent after this, and by and by
+Cyril put Booty down.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-bye,' observed Audrey very gently, as she extended
+her hand. 'Thank you so much for being so good to Booty;
+and please give my love to your mother and Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good-bye,' murmured Cyril; and for a moment he held her
+hand very tightly. If his eyes said a little too eloquently that
+he knew he should not see her again for a long time, Audrey
+did not see it, for her own were downcast. That strong, warm
+pressure of Cyril's hand had been a revelation, and a quick,
+sensitive blush rose to her face as she turned silently away.</p>
+
+<p>'That is over,' thought Cyril to himself, as he strode
+through the silent street in the summer twilight; 'and now
+for seven long blank weeks. Am I mad to-night? would it
+ever be possible? It is like the new heaven and the new earth
+only to think of it!' finished the young man, delirious with
+this sweet intoxication of possible and impossible dreams.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">{165}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>ON A SCOTCH MOOR</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Time, so complained of,</div>
+<div class="verse">Who to no one man</div>
+<div class="verse">Shows partiality,</div>
+<div class="verse">Brings round to all men</div>
+<div class="verse">Some undimm'd hours.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Matthew Arnold.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>In future days Audrey always looked back upon those seven
+weeks at Braemar with the same feelings with which one
+recalls the memory of some lake embosomed in hills, that
+one has seen sleeping in the sunlight, and in which only
+tranquil images were reflected&mdash;the branch of some drooping
+sapling, or some bird's wing as it skimmed across the glassy
+surface.</p>
+
+<p>Just so one day after another glided away in smooth enjoyment
+and untroubled serenity, and not a discordant breath
+ruffled the two households.</p>
+
+<p>The house that Dr. Ross had taken had originally been two
+good-sized cottages, and though the rooms were small, there
+were plenty of them; and a little careful adjustment of the
+scanty furniture, and a few additional nicknacks, transformed
+the parlour into a pleasant sitting-room. Geraldine wondered
+and admired when she came across, the first morning after their
+arrival. Audrey had arranged her own and Michael's books on
+the empty shelves; the little mirror, and indeed the whole
+mantelpiece, was festooned and half hidden with branches laden
+with deep crimson rowan-berries, mixed with heather and silvery-leafed
+honesty; a basket of the same rowan-berries occupied the
+centre of the round table; an Oriental scarf draped the ugly
+horsehair sofa, and a comfortable-looking rug was thrown over
+the shabby easy-chair. The fishing-tackle, butterfly-nets, pipes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">{166}</a></span>
+and all other heterogeneous matters, were consigned to a small
+bare apartment, known as 'Michael's den,' and which soon became
+a lumber-room.</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine looked at her sister's handiwork with great
+approval. She considered her father's household was magnificently
+lodged; she and her husband had taken up their quarters
+in a much less commodious cottage&mdash;their tiny parlour would
+hardly hold four people comfortably, and the ceiling was so low
+that Mr. Harcourt always felt as though he must knock his
+head against the rafters. When any of the Ross party called
+on them, they generally adjourned to the small sloping garden,
+and conversed among the raspberry-bushes.</p>
+
+<p>It was delightful to see Geraldine's enjoyment of these
+primitive surroundings. The young mistress of Hillside seemed
+transformed into another person. Percival's clever contrivances,
+their little makeshifts, their odd picnic life, were all fruitful
+topics of conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'And then I have him all to myself, without any tiresome
+boys,' she would say to her mother. 'It is just like another
+honeymoon.'</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine's one grievance was that she was not strong enough
+to share her husband's excursions. She had to stay with her
+mother and Michael when he and Audrey and Dr. Ross took
+one of their long scrambling or fishing expeditions. Geraldine
+used to manifest a wifely impatience on these occasions that
+was very pretty and becoming; and she and Michael, who
+seemed to share her feelings, would stroll to the little bridge of
+an evening to meet the returning party. Somehow Michael
+was always the first to see them and to raise the friendly halloo,
+that generally sent the small black cattle scampering down the
+croft.</p>
+
+<p>'See the conquering hero comes!' Mr. Harcourt would
+respond, opening his rush basket to display the silvery trout.
+Dr. Ross's pockets would be full of mosses and specimens and
+fragments of rock, and Audrey brought up the rear with both
+hands laden with wild-flowers and grasses.</p>
+
+<p>'Have you been dull, my darling?' Mr. Harcourt would say
+as Geraldine walked beside him. She seemed to have eyes and
+ears for no one else&mdash;and was that any wonder, when he had
+been absent from her since early morning? 'We have had a
+grand day, Jerry; we have tramped I do not know how many
+miles&mdash;Dr. Ross says fifteen; we have been arguing about it
+all the way home. I am as hungry as a hunter. I feel like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">{167}</a></span>
+Esau&mdash;a bowl of red lentils would not have a chance with me.
+I always had a sneaking sort of liking for Esau. What have
+you got for supper, little woman?'</p>
+
+<p>'Salmon-steaks and broiled fowl,' was Geraldine's answer&mdash;'your
+favourite dishes, Percy. I am so glad you are hungry.'</p>
+
+<p>'Faith, that I am; the Trojan heroes were nothing to me!
+I will have a wash first, and get off these boots&mdash;should you
+know them for boots?&mdash;and then you shall see, my dear.'</p>
+
+<p>And it may be doubted whether those two ever enjoyed a
+meal more than those salmon-steaks and broiled fowl that Jean
+Scott first cooked and then carried in bare-armed, setting down
+the dishes with a triumphant bang on the small rickety table.</p>
+
+<p>'Now we will have a drop of the cratur and a pipe,' Mr.
+Harcourt would say. 'Wrap yourself in my rug, and we will
+sit in the porch, for really this cabin stifles me after the moors.
+What have you and your mother been talking about? Let me
+have the whole budget, Jerry.'</p>
+
+<p>Was there a happier woman in the world than Geraldine,
+nestled under her husband's plaid, in the big roomy porch, and
+looking out at the starlight? Even practical, prosaic people
+have their moments of poetry, when the inner meaning of
+things seems suddenly revealed to them, when their outer self
+drops off and their vision is purged and purified; and Geraldine,
+listening to the tinkling beck below, and inhaling the cool
+fragrance of the Scotch twilight, creeps nearer to her husband
+and leans against his sheltering arm. What does it matter
+what they talked about? Mr. Harcourt had not yet forgotten
+the lover in the husband; perhaps he, too, felt how sweet was
+this dual solitude after his busy labours, and owned in manly
+fashion his sense of his many blessings.</p>
+
+<p>'How happy those two are!' Audrey once said, a little
+thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>She was sitting on the open moor, and Michael was stretched
+on the heather beside her, with Kester at a little distance, buried
+as usual in his book; Booty was amusing himself by following
+rather inquisitively the slow movements of a bee that was
+humming over the heather. The three had been spending a
+tranquil afternoon together, while Dr. Ross and his son-in-law
+had started for a certain long walk, which they declared no
+woman ought to attempt.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was not sorry to be left with Michael. It had been
+her intention from the first to devote herself to him; and dearly
+as she loved these rambles with her father, she was quite as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">{168}</a></span>
+happy talking to Michael. Audrey's dangerous gift of sympathy&mdash;dangerous
+because of its lack of moderation&mdash;always enabled
+her to throw herself into other people's interests; it gave her
+positive happiness to see Michael so tranquil and content, and
+carrying himself with the air of a man who knows himself to
+be anchored in some fair haven after stress of weather; and,
+indeed, these were halcyon days to Michael.</p>
+
+<p>He had Audrey's constant companionship, and never had the
+girl been sweeter to him. The delicious moorland air, the
+free life, the absence of any care or worry, braced his worn
+nerves and filled his pulses with a sense of returning health.
+He felt comparatively well and strong, and woke each morning
+with a sense of enjoyment and well-being. Even Audrey's
+long absences did not trouble him over-much, for there was
+always the pleasure of her return. He and Kester could
+always amuse themselves until the time came for him and
+Geraldine to stroll to their trysting-place.</p>
+
+<p>'Here we are, Michael!' Audrey would say, with her
+sudden bright smile, that seemed to light up the landscape.
+Somehow, he had never admired her so much as he did now in
+her neat tweed dress, and the deerstalker cap that sat so
+jauntily on her brown hair. How lightly she walked! how
+full of life and energy she was! No mountain-bred lass had a
+freer step, a more erect carriage.</p>
+
+<p>When Audrey made her little speech about her sister's happiness,
+Michael looked up with a sort of lazy surprise in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, are not married people generally happy?' he asked.
+'At least, the world gives them credit for happiness. Fancy
+turning bankrupt at nine or ten months!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, there will be no bankruptcy in their case. Gage is a
+thoroughly contented woman. Do you know, Michael, I begin
+to think Percival a good fellow myself. I never saw quite so
+much of him before, and he is really very companionable.'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, now, I have hopes of you. Then why this dubious
+tone in alluding to their matrimonial felicity?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I don't know!' with a slight blush. 'I believe it
+makes me a little impatient if people talk too much about it.
+Mother and Gage are perpetually haranguing on such subjects
+as this; they are always hinting, or saying out openly, that
+such a girl had better be married. Now, it is all very well,
+but there are two sides to every question, and I do think old
+maids have a great many privileges. No one seems to think of
+the delights of freedom.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">{169}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I believe we have heard these sentiments before. Kester,
+my son, go on with your book; this sort of conversation is not
+intended for good little boys.'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, don't be absurd! I really mean what I say; it is
+perfectly glorious to say and do just what one likes. I mean
+to write a paper about it one day, and send it up to one of our
+leading periodicals.'</p>
+
+<p>'"On the Old Maids of England," by "A Young Maid."
+I should like to read it; the result of three-and-twenty years'
+experience must be singularly beneficial to the world at large.
+Write it, my child, by all means; and I will correct the proof-sheets.'</p>
+
+<p>'But why should not one be happy in one's own way?'
+persisted Audrey. 'You are older than I, Michael&mdash;I suppose
+a man of your age must have some experience&mdash;is it not something
+to be your own master, to go where you like and do what
+you like without being cross-questioned on your actions?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I will agree with you there!'</p>
+
+<p>'People talk such nonsense about loneliness and all that
+sort of thing, as though one need be lonely in a whole world
+full of human creatures&mdash;as though an old maid cannot find
+plenty to love, and who will love her.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know; I never tried. If I had a maiden aunt,
+perhaps&mdash;&mdash;' murmured Michael.</p>
+
+<p>'If you had, and she were a nice, kind-hearted woman, you
+would love her. I know it is the fashion to laugh at old maids,
+and make remarks on their funny little ways; but I never will
+find fault with them. Why, I shall be an old maid myself one
+day; but, all the same, I mean people to love me all my life
+long. What are you doing now?' rather sharply; for Michael
+had taken out his pocket-book and was writing the date.</p>
+
+<p>'I thought I might like to remind you of this conversation
+one day. Is it the sixteenth or the seventeenth? Thank you,
+Kester&mdash;the seventeenth? There! it is written down.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are very disagreeable, and I will not talk any more to
+you. I shall go and look for some stag's-horn moss instead;'
+and Audrey sprang up from her couch of heather and marched
+away, while Michael lay face downward, with his peaked cap
+drawn over his eyes, and watched her roaming over the moor.</p>
+
+<p>Now, why was Audrey declaiming after this fashion? and
+why did she take it into her head to air all sorts of independent
+notions that quite shocked her mother? and why was she for
+ever drawing plans to herself of a life that should be solitary,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">{170}</a></span>
+and yet crowded with interests&mdash;whose keynote should be
+sympathy for her fellow-creatures and large-hearted work among
+them? and, above all, why did she want to persuade herself
+and Michael that this was the sort of life best fitted for her?
+But no one could answer these questions; so complex is the
+machinery of feminine nature, that perhaps Audrey herself
+would have been the last to be able to answer them.</p>
+
+<p>But she was very happy, in spite of all these crude theories&mdash;very
+happy indeed; some fulness of life seemed to enrich her
+fine, bountiful nature, and to add to her sense of enjoyment.
+Sometimes, when she was sitting beside some mountain beck,
+in the hush of the noontide heat, when all was silent and
+solitary about her except the gauzy wings of insects moving
+above the grasses, a certain face would start up against the
+background of her thoughts&mdash;a pair of dark, wistful eyes would
+appeal to her out of the silence. That mute farewell, so
+suggestive, so full of pain&mdash;even the strong warm grasp with
+which her hand had been held&mdash;recurred to her memory. Was
+he still missing her, she wondered, or had Miss Frances contrived
+to comfort him?</p>
+
+<p>Miss Frances was very seldom mentioned in Cyril's frequent
+letters to Kester. The boy used to bring them to Audrey to
+read with a glow of satisfaction on his face.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril is awfully good,' he said once; 'he never used to write
+to me at all; mother always had his letters. But look what a
+long one I have had to-day&mdash;two sheets and a half&mdash;and he has
+asked such a lot of questions. Please, do read it, Miss Ross;
+there are heaps of messages to everybody.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was quite willing to read it. As she took the letter,
+she again admired the clear, bold handwriting. It was just
+like the writer, she thought&mdash;frank, open, and straightforward.
+But as she perused it, a glow of amusement passed over her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blake's letters were very kind and brotherly, but were
+they only intended for Kester's eyes? Were all those picturesque
+descriptions, those clever sketches of character, those
+telling bits of humour, meant solely for the delectation of a boy
+of sixteen? And, then, the series of questions&mdash;what did they
+do all day when the weather was rainy, for example? did Miss
+Ross always join the Doctor and Mr. Harcourt on their fishing
+expeditions? and so on. Mr. Blake seldom mentioned her
+name, although there were many indirect allusions to her; but
+Miss Frances was scarcely ever mentioned. She was only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">{171}</a></span>
+classed in an offhand way with 'the Hackett girls' or 'the
+young ladies.' 'The Hackett girls went with us; the two
+younger ones are famous walkers,' etcetera.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes there would be an attempt to moralise.</p>
+
+<p>'I am getting sick of girls,' he wrote on this occasion. 'I
+will give you a piece of brotherly advice, my boy: never have
+much to do with them. Do not misunderstand me. By girls,
+I mean the specimens of young ladies one meets at tennis-parties,
+garden-parties, and that sort of thing. They are very pretty and
+amusing, but they are dangerous; they seem to expect that a
+fellow has nothing else to do but to dangle after them and pay
+them compliments. Even Miss F&mdash;&mdash; But, there, I will not
+mention names. She is a good sort&mdash;a lively little soul; but
+she is always up to mischief.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey bit her lips to keep from smiling as she read this
+passage, for she knew Kester was watching her. It was one of
+the 'saft days' common in the Highlands, and, not being ducks,
+the two households had remained within doors. Dr. Ross and
+Michael were classifying butterflies and moths in the den; Mrs.
+Ross was in her room; and Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt&mdash;'cabined,
+cribbed, confined,' as Mr. Harcourt expressed it&mdash;were getting
+through alarming arrears of correspondence by way of
+passing the time. Audrey had lighted a fire in the parlour, and
+sat beside it snugly, and Kester was on the couch opposite her.</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder if it be Miss Frances!' thought Audrey, as she
+replaced the letter in the envelope. '"A lively little soul, and
+a good sort." I don't think Mr. Blake's dislike to girls counts
+for much. Young men seldom write in that way unless they
+are bitten; and, of course, it could be no one else but Miss
+Frances. But it is no use arguing out the question.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is a very good letter,' she said aloud. 'You are lucky
+to have such a correspondent. I suppose'&mdash;taking up her
+embroidery&mdash;'that your brother will not mind our seeing his
+letters?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh dear no!' returned Kester, falling innocently into the
+snare. 'I have told him that you always read them; and, you
+see, he writes just as often. Do you think Cyril is enjoying
+himself as much as we are, Miss Ross? Now and then it seems
+to me that he is a little dull. When Cyril says he is bored, I
+think he means it.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey evaded this question. She also had detected a vein
+of melancholy running through the letters. If he were so very
+happy in Miss Frances' society, would he wish quite so earnestly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">{172}</a></span>
+that the vacation were over, and that he was amongst his boys
+in the big schoolroom? Would he drop those hints that no air
+suited him like Rutherford air?</p>
+
+<p>'I think he ought to be enjoying himself,' she said, a little
+severely. 'He is amongst very kind people, who evidently try
+to make him happy, and who treat him like one of themselves;
+and, then, the girls seem so good-natured. Young men do not
+know when they are well off. You had better tell him so,
+Kester.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shall I say it as a message from you?'</p>
+
+<p>'By no means;' and Audrey spoke very decidedly. 'I
+never send messages to gentlemen.' And as the boy looked
+rather abashed at this rebuke, she continued more gently: 'Of
+course you will give him our kind regards, and I daresay mother
+will send a message&mdash;Mr. Blake is a great favourite of hers.
+But it is not my business if your brother chooses to be discontented
+and to quarrel with his loaves and fishes.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think Cyril would like to be in my place,' observed
+Kester, quite unaware that he was saying the wrong thing; but
+Audrey took no notice of this speech. 'Well, he need not envy
+me now,' he went on, in a dolorous voice. 'It has been a grand
+time&mdash;I have never been so happy in my life; but it will soon
+be over now. Only a fortnight more.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad you have been happy, Kester; and you do
+seem so much better,' looking at him critically.</p>
+
+<p>And indeed a great change had passed over the boy. His
+face was less thin and sharp, and there was a tinge of healthy
+colour in his cheeks; his eyes, too, were less sunken and
+hollow, and had lost their melancholy expression. When
+Audrey had first seen him on that June afternoon, there had
+been a subdued air about him that contrasted painfully with his
+extreme youth; but now there was renewed life and energy in
+his aspect, as though some heavy pressure had been suddenly
+removed.</p>
+
+<p>'I am ever so much better,' he returned gratefully; and it
+was then that Audrey noticed for the first time his likeness to
+his brother. He was really a nice-looking boy, and but for his
+want of health would have been handsome. 'When I go home'&mdash;and
+here a cloud passed over his face&mdash;'these weeks will
+seem like a dream. Fancy having to do nothing all day but
+enjoy one's self from morning to night!'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, I am sure you and Michael work hard enough.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, but that is the best pleasure of all!' he replied eagerly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">{173}</a></span>
+'I should not care for idleness. I like to feel I am making
+progress; and Captain Burnett says I am getting on first-rate.
+And then think of our study, Miss Ross!' and here Kester's
+face kindled with enthusiasm. 'How I shall dream of those
+moors, and of those great patches of purple heather, and the
+bees humming over the thyme, and the golden gorse, and the
+bracken! No wonder Cyril wants to be in my place!'</p>
+
+<p>'You and Michael are great friends, are you not, Kester?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes!' But though Kester turned on her a beaming
+look of assent, he said no more. He had a boy's dislike to
+speak of his feelings; and Audrey respected this shy reticence,
+for she asked no further questions. But she knew Kester
+almost worshipped Michael, that a word from him influenced
+him more than a dozen words from any other person; even
+Cyril's opinion must defer to this new friend. For was not
+Captain Burnett a hero? did he not wear the Victoria Cross?
+and were not those scars the remains of glorious wounds, when
+he shed his blood freely for those poor sick soldiers? And this
+hero, this king of men, this grave, clear-eyed soldier, had thrown
+the &aelig;gis of his protection round him&mdash;Kester&mdash;had stooped to
+teach and befriend him! No wonder Kester prayed 'God bless
+him!' every night in his brief boyish prayers; that he grew to
+track his footsteps much as Booty did, and to read him&mdash;as
+Audrey failed to do&mdash;by the light of his honest, youthful love.</p>
+
+<p>For Kester's hero was Kester's friend; and in time friends
+grow to understand each other.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">{174}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>YELLOW STOCKINGS ON THE TAPIS</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'We school our manners, act our parts,</div>
+<div class="vind2">But He who sees us through and through</div>
+<div class="verse">Knows that the bent of both our hearts</div>
+<div class="vind2">Was to be gentle, tranquil, true.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Matthew Arnold.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Audrey had not forgotten Mollie all this time. She kept
+her promise, and wrote to her frequently; and she had long
+letters from her in return. Mollie's girlish effusions were very
+innocent and loving. One day Michael asked to read one of
+them. He smiled as he handed it back.</p>
+
+<p>'She is a dear little girl!' he said heartily; 'I do not
+wonder that you are so fond of her. She is only an undeveloped
+child now, but there is plenty of good raw material. Mollie
+will make a fine large-hearted woman one day&mdash;like someone
+else I know,' he finished to himself. 'If I do not mistake,
+Mollie is cut after Audrey's pattern.'</p>
+
+<p>Now and then Mrs. Blake wrote also. Her letters were
+airy and picturesque, like her talk. Audrey would read them
+aloud to her mother and Michael.</p>
+
+<p>'I really feel as though our Richmond dreams had come
+true,' she wrote once&mdash;'as though our favourite castle in the
+air were built. "Not really, mother? you don't think this
+beautiful house and garden belong to us really?" asks Mollie,
+in her stupid way. You know what a literal little soul she is.
+"Oh, go away, Mollie!" I exclaim quite crossly. "How can
+I help it if you have no imagination?" For all I know, the
+place is ours: no one interferes with us; we come and go as
+we like; the birds sing to us; the flowers bloom for our pleasure.
+Sometimes we sit by the lake, or Mollie paddles me to Deep-water
+Chine, or we read our history on that delicious circular<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">{175}</a></span>
+seat overlooking the terraces. Then the silence is invaded: a
+neat-handed Phyllis&mdash;isn't that poetically expressed?&mdash;comes up
+with a message from that good Mrs. Draper: "Where would
+Mrs. Blake and Miss Mollie have their tea?" Oh, you dear,
+thoughtful creature, as though I do not know who has prompted
+Mrs. Draper! Of course Mollie cries: "The garden, mamma!"
+and "The garden so be it," say I. And presently it comes&mdash;such
+a tea! such fruit, such cream, such cakes! No wonder
+Mollie is growing fat. And how am I to thank you and dear
+Mrs. Ross? I must give it up; words will not express my
+sense of your goodness. But before I finish this rigmarole I
+must tell you that Mollie practises every day for an hour, and
+keeps up her French, and the Roman history progresses well.
+I am carrying Mollie so fast over the ground that we shall soon
+be dragged at Pompey's chariot-wheels; and as she complains
+that she forgets what we have read, I make her take notes and
+copy them neatly in a book. I know you will be glad to hear
+this.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph!' was Michael's sole observation, when Audrey
+had finished.</p>
+
+<p>'It is a very interesting letter&mdash;very droll and amusing,'
+remarked Mrs. Ross, in her kindly way. 'Mrs. Blake is a
+clever woman; don't you think so, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>But Michael could not be induced to hazard an opinion;
+indeed, his behaviour was so unsatisfactory that Audrey
+threatened to keep the next letter to herself.</p>
+
+<p>But the last week was nearly at an end, and, though everyone
+loudly lamented over this fact, it was observed that Mrs.
+Ross's countenance grew brighter every day. She never
+willingly left her beautiful home, and she always hailed her
+return to it with joy. Not even her Highland home, with its
+heather and long festoons of stag-horn moss, could divert her
+affections from her beloved Woodcote; and the young mistress
+of Hillside fully echoed these sentiments.</p>
+
+<p>'It has been a lovely time, and has done Percy a world of
+good,' she said to her mother, as they were packing up some
+curiosities together; 'but I can see he is growing a little tired
+of idleness; and, after all, there is no place like home.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure your father and I feel the same; and really,
+Geraldine, on a wet day these rooms are terribly small. I used
+to take my work upstairs; one seemed to breathe freer than in
+that stuffy parlour that Audrey and Michael think so charming.'</p>
+
+<p>'So our last evening has come,' observed Audrey, in a curious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">{176}</a></span>
+tone, as she and Michael wandered down to the little bridge
+they called their trysting-place. A tiny rivulet of water trickled
+over the stones, and two or three ducks were dibbling with
+yellow bills among the miniature boulders. Audrey sat down
+on the low wall, and Michael stooped to pick up a pebble, an
+action that excited frantic joy in Booty's breast.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, to be sure!' he replied, as he sent it skimming along
+the water, while Booty pattered after it, barking with glee.
+'Don't you remember De Quincey's observation?' And as
+Audrey shook her head, for she never remembered quotations,
+he went on: 'He declares that it is a true and feeling remark
+of Dr. Johnson's, that we never do anything consciously for
+the last time (of things, that is to say, which we have long
+been in the habit of doing) without sadness of heart.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think he is right;' and Audrey bent over the low parapet
+to watch a sudden scrimmage below.</p>
+
+<p>Booty was frisking among the boulders, and the ducks,
+evidently ruffled in their feelings, were swimming under the
+bridge, quacking a loud, indignant protest. Even ducks lose
+their tempers sometimes, and the angry flourish of their tails
+and the pouting of their soft necks and their open bills showed
+keen remonstrance and utter vexation of spirit.</p>
+
+<p>'Booty, come here, and leave those ducks in peace;' and
+then, while Michael threw another pebble or two, she sat asking
+herself if she felt this sadness. Was she glad or sorry to know
+that to-morrow they would be on their way to Rutherford?&mdash;would
+it not be a matter of regret if their return were to be
+suddenly postponed? She had been very happy here; she had
+seen so much of her father and Michael; but&mdash;&mdash;Here
+Audrey brought her inward questioning to an abrupt end.</p>
+
+<p>'It has been a nice time, Michael,' she said gently&mdash;'a very
+nice time indeed.'</p>
+
+<p>'Look here! I wish you would substitute another adjective,'
+he remonstrated, quite seriously. '"Nice" is such an insipid,
+sugary sort of word: it has no sort of character about it. Now,
+if you had said "a good old time&mdash;&mdash;"'</p>
+
+<p>'And have drawn down a reproof on myself for talking slang.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, "a glorious time,"' he corrected&mdash;'shall we say that
+instead? You have enjoyed it, have you not?' with one of his
+searching looks.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; I have never enjoyed myself more. And, Michael'&mdash;her
+love of mischief predominating&mdash;'I do believe we have
+not quarrelled once.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">{177}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You have been such a brick, you know, and have given in
+to me in everything. Somehow,' continued Michael, throwing
+up a pebble and catching it again, 'if people give in to me, I
+am remarkably sweet-tempered. We were very near a quarrel
+once, I remember, but it never came to anything. It was a
+hot afternoon, I think, and we were both sleepy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot say I remember it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, let it pass. I am in that sort of magnanimous mood
+that I am ready to pronounce absolution on all offences&mdash;past,
+present, and to come. By the bye, Audrey, I forgot to tell you
+something. Kester has had the letter he wanted, and Widow
+Blake graciously signifies her assent.'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, let me give you a timely warning. We shall
+quarrel if you call my friend by that ridiculous name.'</p>
+
+<p>'A quarrel cannot be carried on by one party alone,' he
+returned lazily; 'and I absolutely refuse to consider a mere
+statement of facts in the light of a grievance. Still, if your
+feelings are wounded, and you object to my allusion to your
+fair friend's bereaved condition&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael!' with a little stamp, 'will you leave off talking
+about Mrs. Blake and tell me what you mean?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is perfectly simple, I assure you. Kester wrote to his
+mother to ask if he might go up to town with me, and she
+said "Yes."'</p>
+
+<p>'Must you really go?' rather regretfully. 'It would be so
+much nicer if you came to Rutherford with us. You know,'
+she continued affectionately, 'I always miss you so much when
+you are away.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael gave her one of his quick looks, and then he picked
+up a smooth white stone that had attracted his attention.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall follow you in ten days&mdash;at least, that is my present
+intention, unless Stedman's business keeps me.'</p>
+
+<p>'But will not Kester be in your way?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not a bit; he will be a famous companion. He will have
+the run of my rooms, and when I am at the club or with the
+other fellows he will find a hundred ways of amusing himself.'</p>
+
+<p>'It will be such a treat to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I want it to be a treat; he has not had much pleasure in
+his life, poor fellow! Do you know, Audrey, he has never
+really seen London. Won't he enjoy bowling along the
+Embankment in a hansom, and what do you suppose he will
+say to Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament? I
+mean to take him to the theatre. Actually he has never seen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">{178}</a></span>
+a play! We will have dinner at the Criterion, and I will get
+Fred Somers to join us. Well, what now?' regarding her with
+astonishment; for Audrey was looking at him, and her beautiful
+gray eyes were full of tears.</p>
+
+<p>'Because you are so kind,' she said a little huskily;
+'because no one else ever did such kind, thoughtful things, and
+because you never think of yourself at all.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, come, you must not begin praising me after this
+fashion!' he said lightly; for he would not show her how much
+he was touched that there were actually tears in her eyes for
+him.</p>
+
+<p>'And I think it no wonder at all that Kester is so devoted
+to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Booty!' exclaimed Michael sadly; and as the little creature
+jumped on his knee, he continued in a melancholy tone: 'Do
+you know, Booty, you have a rival? Someone else beside yourself
+dares to be devoted to your master. Ah, no wonder you wag
+your tail so feebly! "The moon loves many brooks, but the
+brooks love one moon"&mdash;it is an affecting image.'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, I do wish you would be a little serious this last
+evening. I really mean it. Kester thinks more of you than
+he does of his own brother.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, he will be wiser some day,' returned Michael, with the
+utmost cheerfulness. 'You must make allowance for his youth
+and inexperience. He is an odd boy, rather precocious for his
+age, and his weak health has fostered his little peculiarities.'</p>
+
+<p>'You speak as though some apology were needed. You are
+very dense this evening, Michael. I believe I said I was not
+at all surprised at Kester's devotion, you have been so good to
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think the air of this place is enervating,' replied Michael,
+jumping up from the parapet. 'I know people do not generally
+consider moorland air enervating; but mine is a peculiar constitution,
+and needs more bracing than other men's. Shall we
+walk back, my dear?' But as he gave her his hand to rise, the
+gentle melancholy of his smile smote her with a sudden sense
+of sadness, for it spoke of some hidden pain that even her
+sympathy could not reach; and she knew that his whimsical
+words only cloaked some vague uneasiness. 'Come, dear,
+come,' he continued; 'these Scotch twilights are somewhat
+damp and chilly. We will burn that pine log this evening,
+and we will sit round it and tell stories&mdash;eh, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>But, in spite of these cheerful words, Michael was the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">{179}</a></span>
+quietest of the group that evening, as he watched from his
+dusky corner, unperceived himself, the play of the firelight on
+one bright, earnest face. Audrey sat on the rug at her father's
+feet, with her head against his knee. It was a favourite
+position of hers.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Daddy Glass-Eyes, it is your turn,' she said, using the
+old baby-name. 'Michael has turned disagreeable and has
+gone to sleep, so we will miss him. Kester, are you thinking
+of your story? It must be a nice creepy one, please.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think we ought all to go to bed early, John,' interrupted
+Mrs. Ross. 'Audrey is in one of her sociable moods; but she
+forgets we have a long journey before us. Kester is looking as
+sleepy as possible.' And as Dr. Ross always acted on his wife's
+quiet hints, the fireside circle soon broke up.</p>
+
+<p>It had been arranged that the whole party should sleep
+two nights in town. Geraldine and Audrey had shopping to
+do, and both Dr. Ross and his son-in-law had business appointments
+to detain them. Audrey and her mother had tea with
+Michael one evening, and then they bade him and Kester good-bye.</p>
+
+<p>'You will tell Mollie all about me, will you not, Miss Ross?'
+Kester exclaimed excitedly. 'Tell her I am going to St. Paul's,
+and the National Gallery, and the British Museum. Fred
+Somers is going to pilot me about, as Captain Burnett has so
+much to do. Do you know Fred Somers, Miss Ross? He
+seems a nice sort of fellow.'</p>
+
+<p>Oh yes, Audrey knew all about Fred Somers. He was
+another <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;</i> of Michael's; indeed, the whole Somers family
+considered themselves indebted to Captain Burnett.</p>
+
+<p>Fred's father was only a City clerk, and at one time his head
+had been very much below water. He was a good, weak sort
+of man; but he had not sufficient backbone, and when the tide
+sat dead against him he lost courage.</p>
+
+<p>'The man will die,' said the doctor. 'He has no stamina;
+he simply offers no resistance to the disease that is carrying
+him off. You should cheer him up a bit, Mrs. Somers&mdash;crying
+never mended a sick man yet.' For he was the parish doctor,
+and a little rough in his ways.</p>
+
+<p>'A man has no right to lose courage and to show the white
+feather when he has a wife and six children depending on him,'
+said Michael.</p>
+
+<p>Some chance&mdash;or rather say some providential arrangement&mdash;had
+brought him across their threshold. Michael came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">{180}</a></span>
+across all sorts of people in his London life, and, though his
+acquaintance among City clerks was rather limited, he had known
+Mr. Somers slightly.</p>
+
+<p>When Michael stepped up to that sick-bed with that wholesome
+rebuke on his tongue, but his heart very full of sympathy
+for the stricken man, Robert Somers' difficulties were practically
+over. The debts that were chafing the life out of him&mdash;debts
+incurred by sickness, by a hundred little disasters&mdash;were
+paid out of Michael's small means; and, despite his doctor's
+prophecy, Robert Somers rose from his bed a braver, stronger
+man.</p>
+
+<p>Michael never lost interest in the family. They would
+always be pinched and struggling, he knew&mdash;a City clerkship is
+not an El Dorado of riches, and growing boys and girls have to
+be clothed and educated. Michael took the eldest boy, Fred,
+under his wing&mdash;by some means or other he got him into Christ's
+Hospital. How Fred's little sisters admired those yellow
+stockings!&mdash;though it may be doubted whether they were not
+too warm a colour for Fred's private taste. Fred was a Grecian
+by this time&mdash;a big strapping fellow he looked beside Kester&mdash;with
+a freckled, intelligent face and a mop of dark hair. He
+was a great favourite of Audrey's, and she had once induced her
+mother to let him spend a fortnight at Woodcote. Dr. Ross also
+took a kindly interest in him.</p>
+
+<p>'Fred will make his mark one day. You are right, Michael,'
+he observed. 'He has plenty of brains under that rough thatch
+of his. He will shoulder his way through the world. Christ's
+Hospital has turned out many a fine scholar, and Fred does not
+mean to be behind them.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey bade good-bye to Michael somewhat reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>'You will follow us in ten days, will you not?' she asked
+rather anxiously. 'Remember that London never suits you;
+you are always better at Rutherford, and it will be such a pity
+to lose your good looks&mdash;Scotland has done wonders for you.
+Percival was only saying so this morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall be sure to come as soon as I have settled this
+troublesome piece of business,' he returned cheerfully. 'Take
+care of yourself, my Lady Bountiful, and do not get into mischief
+during your Mentor's absence.'</p>
+
+<p>But when the hansom had driven off, Michael did an unusual
+thing. He walked to a small oak-framed mirror that hung
+between the windows, and regarded himself with earnest
+scrutiny. He was alone; the two boys had started off in an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">{181}</a></span>
+omnibus to the National Gallery, and Michael had promised to
+lunch with a friend in Lincoln's Inn.</p>
+
+<p>'My good looks,' he soliloquised. 'I wonder if my health
+has really improved? She was right. I felt a different man in
+Scotland. I have not felt so well and strong since that Zulu
+slashed me&mdash;poor devil! I sent him to limbo. It is true the
+doctors were not hopeless; in time and with care, if I could
+only keep my nerves in order&mdash;that was what they said. Oh,
+if I could only believe them&mdash;if I could only feel the power for
+work&mdash;any sort of work&mdash;coming back to me, I would&mdash;I
+would&mdash;&mdash;' He stopped and broke off the thread of his thoughts
+abruptly. 'What a fool I am! I will not let this temptation
+master me. If I were once to entertain such a hope, to believe
+it possible, I should work myself into a restless fever. Avaunt,
+Satanas! Sweet, subtle, most impossible of impossibilities&mdash;a
+sane man cannot be deluded. Good God! why must some men
+lead such empty lives?' For a moment the firm, resolute
+mouth twitched under the reddish-brown moustache, then Michael
+rang the bell and ordered a hansom.</p>
+
+<p>It was late on a September evening when Audrey drove
+through Rutherford. She leaned forward in the carriage a little
+eagerly as they passed the Gray Cottage&mdash;surely Mollie would
+be at the window! But no! the windows were blank; no
+girlish face was there to greet her, and with a slight feeling of
+disappointment she drew back again. But nothing could long
+spoil the joy of returning home.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, mother, does it not all look lovely?' she exclaimed,
+later on that evening. She had been everywhere&mdash;to the
+stables, the poultry-yard, the dairy, and lastly to Mrs. Draper's
+room. The twilight was creeping over the gardens of Woodcote
+before Audrey had finished her rambles. She had been down
+to the lake, she had sat on 'Michael's bench,' she had looked at
+her favourite shrubs and flowers, and Dr. Ross smiled as he
+heard her gaily singing along the terraces.</p>
+
+<p>'Come in, you madcap!' he said good-humouredly. 'Do
+you know how heavy the dews are? There, I told you so; your
+dress is quite damp.'</p>
+
+<p>'What does it matter?' returned Audrey, with superb disdain.
+'"The rains of Marly do not wet!"&mdash;do you recollect
+that exquisite courtier-like speech?&mdash;so, no doubt, Woodcote
+dews are quite wholesome. Is it not delicious to be home
+again? And there is no more "Will you come ben?" from
+honest Jean, and "Will you have a sup of porridge, Miss Ross<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">{182}</a></span>,
+or a few broth to keep out the cold?" "Home, home,
+there is no place like home!"' And then they heard her
+singing at the top of her fresh young voice, as she roamed
+through the empty rooms, some old ballad Michael had taught
+her:</p>
+
+<table summary="poem">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Oh, there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain,</div>
+<div class="verse">Oh, there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain;</div>
+<div class="verse">Though the heart of this world's as hard as a stane,</div>
+<div class="verse">Yet there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain.'</div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>'Dear child!' observed her mother fondly. 'I do not think
+anyone ever was happier than our Audrey. She is like a sunbeam
+in the house, John;' and then they both paused to
+listen:</p>
+
+<table summary="poem">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Ye wealthy and wise in this fair world of ours,</div>
+<div class="verse">When your fields wave wi' gowd, your gardens wi' flowers,</div>
+<div class="verse">When ye bind up the sheaves, leave out a few grains</div>
+<div class="verse">To the heart-broken widow who never complains.'</div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">{183}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3>'THE LITTLE RIFT'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'And sigh that one thing only has been lent</div>
+<div class="verse">To youth and age in common&mdash;discontent.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Matthew Arnold.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Audrey was very busy the next morning unpacking and settling
+a hundred things with her mother and Mrs. Draper. She had
+fully expected that Mollie would have made her appearance at
+her usual time; but when the luncheon-hour arrived, and still
+no Mollie, she felt a little perplexed. Kester had entrusted her
+with numerous messages, and she had now no resource but to
+go herself to the Gray Cottage and deliver them. Audrey was
+never touchy, never stood on her dignity as most people do; but
+the thought did cross her that for once Mollie had been a little
+remiss.</p>
+
+<p>'I would so much rather have seen her at Woodcote,' she
+said to herself, as she walked quickly down the High Street.
+Mrs. Ross was going up to Hillside to look after Geraldine, and
+Audrey had promised to join her there in an hour's time. 'I
+never can talk comfortably to Mollie at the Gray Cottage; Mrs.
+Blake always monopolises me so.'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey carefully refrained from hinting, even to herself,
+the real reason for her reluctance. She had a curious dread of
+seeing Mr. Blake, an unaccountable wish to keep out of his
+way as much as possible; but not for worlds would she have
+acknowledged this.</p>
+
+<p>She opened the green gate, and Zack bounded out to meet
+her with his usual bark of welcome; but no Mollie followed
+him, only Biddy, looking more like a witch than ever, with a
+red silk handkerchief tied over her gray hair, hobbled across the
+passage.</p>
+
+<p>'The mistress and Miss Mollie are in the drawing-room,' she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">{184}</a></span>
+said, fixing her bright hawk-like eyes on Audrey. 'And how
+is it with yourself, Miss Ross?&mdash;you look as blooming as a rose
+before it is gathered. It is a purty compliment,' as Audrey
+laughed; 'but it is true, and others will be telling you so, Miss
+Ross, avick.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey blushed a little, for there was a meaning look in the
+old woman's eyes. Then she ran lightly upstairs; the drawing-room
+door was half open, and she could hear Mollie's voice
+reading aloud; 'Pompey and Pharsalia' caught her ear; then
+she gave the door a little push, and Mollie's book dropped on
+the floor.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross! oh, Miss Ross!' she exclaimed half hysterically,
+but she did not move from her place.</p>
+
+<p>It was Mrs. Blake who took Audrey's hands and kissed her
+airily on either cheek.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Miss Ross!' she exclaimed, in her soft, impressive
+voice, 'this is almost too good of you. I told Mollie that I
+knew you would come. "Do you think she will have the heart
+to stay away when she knows that we are perfectly famished
+for a sight of her?" that was what I said when Mollie was
+plaguing me to let her go to Woodcote this morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I was expecting her, Mrs. Blake,' returned Audrey,
+drawing the girl to her side as she stood apart rather
+awkwardly. 'I thought it was unkind of Mollie to desert me
+the first morning. Every time the door opened I said to myself,
+"That is Mollie." I half made up my mind to be offended at
+last.'</p>
+
+<p>'There, mamma, I told you so!' observed Mollie rather piteously;
+'I knew Miss Ross would be hurt; that is why I
+begged so hard to go.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor mamma! she is always in the wrong,' returned Mrs.
+Blake, with a touch of petulance. 'I put it to you, Miss Ross:
+would it not have been utter want of consideration on my part
+to allow Mollie to hinder you with her chattering just when
+you were unpacking and so dreadfully busy? "Take my advice,
+and stop away until you are wanted," that is what I said to
+Mollie, and actually the foolish child got into a regular pet
+about it; yes, you may look ashamed of yourself, Mollie, but
+you know I said I should tell Miss Ross. You can see by her
+eyes how she has been crying, and all because I insisted you
+were not to be worried.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie never worries me,' returned Audrey, with a kind
+look at her favourite's flushed face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">{185}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But she did not dare pursue the subject; she knew poor
+Mollie was often thwarted in her little plans. If her mother
+had a sudden caprice or whim to be gratified, Mollie was the
+one who must always set her own wishes aside&mdash;for whom any
+little disappointment was judged salutary. Perhaps the discipline
+did not really harm Mollie; her humility and unselfishness
+guarded her against any rankling bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma never likes me to do things without her,' she said
+later on that afternoon. 'I think she is a little jealous of my
+going to you so much, Miss Ross; she was so angry when I
+asked to run across this morning, because she said I wanted
+you all to myself. I know I was silly to cry about it, but I
+was so sure you would be expecting me; and last night mamma
+made me come out with her, and I wanted to stay at home and
+watch for you: we went all the way to Brail; that is quite
+mamma's favourite walk now&mdash;and, oh, I was so tired.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you must not fret, Mollie; and of course you must
+do as your mother wishes: you know I shall always understand.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma says that you are her friend, and not mine,'
+returned Mollie, with big melancholy eyes; 'and that I ought
+not to put myself so forward: but you are my friend, too, are
+you not, Miss Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I am, my dear little girl, just as Michael is
+Kester's friend; and now I must tell you some more about
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>But this was when she and Mollie were walking towards
+Hillside.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had deftly changed the subject after Mrs. Blake's
+remonstrance; but as she talked she still held Mollie's hand.
+She felt very happy to be sitting in that pretty shady drawing-room
+again, watching the pigeons fluttering among the old arches.
+There was a bowl of dark crimson carnations on the little
+work-table, and a cluster of the same fragrant flowers relieved
+the sombreness of Mrs. Blake's black gown. She was looking
+handsomer than ever this afternoon; she wore a little lace
+kerchief over her dark glossy hair, and the delicate covering
+seemed to enhance her picturesque, Mary Queen of Scots
+beauty, and to heighten the brilliancy of her large dark eyes.
+Audrey had never seen her look so charming, and her soft
+playful manners completed the list of her fascinations. As
+usual, Audrey forgave her petulance and want of consideration
+for Mollie. It was difficult to find fault with Mrs. Blake; she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">{186}</a></span>
+was so gay and good-humoured, she so soon forgot anything
+that had ruffled her, she was so childlike and irresponsible,
+that one seemed to judge her by a separate code.</p>
+
+<p>'I must go!' exclaimed Audrey, starting up, when it had
+chimed the hour. She was in the midst of a description of
+one of their walking expeditions&mdash;an attempt to reach a lovely
+tarn in the heart of the hills. 'I must not wait any longer,
+as my mother will be expecting me. Mollie, put on your hat;
+you can walk with me to Hillside;' and then she hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>It was very strange that all this time Mr. Blake's name had
+not been mentioned. They had talked about Kester and Michael,
+but for once Cyril's name had not been on his mother's lips.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope your son enjoyed his holiday?' she asked, as she
+picked a little sprig of scented geranium.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid Cyril is not quite in the mood for enjoying
+himself,' returned Mrs. Blake in rather a peculiar tone.
+'Mollie, run and put on your hat, as Miss Ross told you; and
+for goodness' sake do brush your hair. My boy is not looking
+like himself,' she continued when they were alone. 'I am
+rather uneasy about him; he has grown thin, and does not
+seem in his usual spirits.'</p>
+
+<p>'He wrote very cheerfully to Kester,' returned Audrey,
+taken aback at this.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, letters never tell one anything,' replied Mrs. Blake
+impatiently. 'I daresay you thought I was as happy as
+possible from mine, just because I must have my little jokes.
+We Blakes are all like that. I daresay, if Cyril were here,
+you would see nothing amiss with him; but you cannot blind
+a mother's eyes, Miss Ross.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am very sorry,' returned Audrey gravely; 'perhaps
+Cornwall did not agree with him; but he seemed very gay.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, as to that, he was gay enough; people always make
+so much of him&mdash;he has been a favourite all his life. I never
+knew any young man with so many friends. He has gone up
+to London now to bid good-bye to one of them who is going
+to India. We do not expect him back until quite late to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed,' was Audrey's brief reply; but as she walked up
+the hill with Mollie she was sensible of a feeling of relief.
+She liked Mr. Blake, she had always liked him; but she had
+begun to find his quiet, persistent watchfulness a little embarrassing&mdash;she
+felt that it invaded the perfect freedom in
+which she delighted. Nevertheless, she was sensible of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">{187}</a></span>
+vague curiosity to know why Mr. Blake was not in his usual
+spirits&mdash;could it be Miss Frances, after all?</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma sent me away because she wanted to talk about
+Cyril,' observed Mollie, with girlish shrewdness; 'she is
+worrying about him, because he looks grave, and does not talk
+quite so much as usual; but I am sure he is not ill. He was
+terribly vexed when Mr. Plumpton telegraphed for him. I
+don't think I ever saw Cyril so put out before. He was quite
+cross with mamma when she wanted to pack his big portmanteau.
+He declared he did not mean to stay away longer
+than one night; but mamma said she knew he could not be
+back until to-morrow evening. Just before he went away he
+asked what time you were expected, and&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind about that,' interrupted Audrey; 'we shall
+be at Hillside directly, and I have heard nothing about yourself.
+Were you very dull without Kester, Mollie? and were
+our letters long enough to satisfy you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, they were just lovely!' returned Mollie enthusiastically;
+'only mamma complained that everyone had forgotten her,
+for even Cyril did not write half so often. I used to read
+them over in the evening, and try and imagine what you were
+doing; and I was not always dull, because I had so much to
+do: but that Roman history&mdash;oh, Miss Ross!'</p>
+
+<p>'You have worked hard at that, have you not, Mollie?'</p>
+
+<p>'You would say so if you had heard us,' returned Mollie
+with a shrug; 'we used to grind away at it until I was quite
+stupid. Sometimes I wanted to practise or to go on with my
+French. But no: mamma had promised Cyril, and there was
+no help for it. I have filled one note-book, but I am not sure
+I remember half. Mamma reads so fast, and she is always
+vexed if I do not understand; but,' with a look of relief, 'I
+don't think we shall do so much now. Mamma has got her
+walking mood again.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey tried not to smile. 'Next week we shall resume
+our lessons, Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that will be delightful,'&mdash;standing still, for they were
+now entering the shrubberies of Hillside; 'somehow, no one
+teaches like you, Miss Ross: you never seem to grow impatient
+or to mind telling things over again; but mother is always in
+such a hurry, and she is so clever herself that she has no
+patience with a dunce like me.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Mollie, please do not call yourself names&mdash;you are
+certainly no dunce.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">{188}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I don't mean to be one any longer,' replied Mollie, brightening
+up. 'Oh, Miss Ross, what do you think Cyril says!
+that I am not to help Biddy any more, and that we are to
+have a woman in to do the rough work. I don't think
+mamma was quite pleased when he talked about it. She said
+it was uncalled-for extravagance, and that we really could not
+afford it; that a little work did not hurt me, and that I ought
+to be glad to make myself useful. Mamma was almost
+annoyed with Cyril, but he always knows how to soothe her
+down. Of course it will be as he wishes, and mamma has
+promised to speak to you about a woman; and so I shall
+have plenty of time to do my lessons; and it will be my own
+fault if I am a dunce now,' finished Mollie, with a close
+hug, as the thick shrubs screened them from any prying
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor little soul! I must help her all I can,' thought
+Audrey, as she walked on to the house. 'I am glad her
+brother takes her part;' and then her brother-in-law met her
+in the porch and took her into the morning-room, where the
+two ladies were sitting, and where Geraldine welcomed her
+as though months, and not hours, had separated them.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey's first visit had always been paid to the O'Briens;
+so the following afternoon she started off for Brail as a matter
+of course.</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps you will come and have tea with mother, Gage,'
+she had said on bidding her sister good-bye; 'my Brail afternoons
+always keep me out until dinner-time;' and Geraldine
+had generously assented to this. She admired Audrey's benevolence
+in walking all those miles to see her old friend; the
+whole family took a lively interest in honest Tom O'Brien,
+though it must be allowed that Mrs. Baxter was by no means
+a favourite.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey would have enjoyed her walk more if she could
+have kept her thoughts free from Mr. Blake; but, unfortunately,
+the long grassy lanes she was just entering only recalled
+the time when he had carried Booty and had walked with her
+to the gate of Woodcote; and she found herself wondering,
+in a vexed manner, as to the cause of the gravity that had
+excited his mother's uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>But she grew impatient with herself presently.</p>
+
+<p>'After all, what does it matter to me?' she thought, as
+she stopped to gather some red leaves. 'I daresay it was
+only Miss Frances, after all.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">{189}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And then she recoiled with a sort of shock, for actually
+within a few feet of her was a tall figure in a brown tweed coat.
+She had been so busy with her thoughts and the red and
+yellow leaves that she had not seen Mr. Blake leaning against
+the gate that led into the ploughed field. She might even
+have passed him, if he had not started up and confronted her.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross,' grasping her hand, 'please let me gather those
+for you; they are too difficult for you to reach&mdash;the ditch is
+so wide. How many do you want? Do you care for that bit
+of barberry?'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you; I think I have enough now,' returned Audrey
+very gravely.</p>
+
+<p>She was quite unprepared for this meeting. She had seen
+the flash of joy in his eyes as he sprang forward to meet her,
+and she was annoyed to feel that her own cheeks were burning.
+And she was clear-sighted enough to notice something else&mdash;that
+Mr. Blake was talking eagerly and gathering the coloured
+leaves at random, as though he hardly knew what he was
+doing, and that, after that first look, he was avoiding her
+eye, as though he were afraid that he had betrayed himself.
+Audrey's maidenly consciousness was up in arms in a moment.
+The gleam in Cyril's eyes had opened hers. Some instinct of
+self-defence made her suddenly entrench herself in stiffness;
+the soft graciousness that was Audrey's chief charm seemed
+to desert her, and for once in her life she was a little abrupt.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need to gather any more, thank you. I have
+all I want, and I am in a great hurry;' and she held out her
+hand for the leaves.</p>
+
+<p>But Cyril withheld them.</p>
+
+<p>'Let me carry them for you,' he returned, evidently trying
+to speak as usual; but his voice was not quite in order. 'I
+know where you are going&mdash;to that pretty, old-fashioned
+cottage with the jasmine-covered porch; it is not far, and I
+have not seen you for so long.' Then he stopped suddenly,
+as though something in Audrey's manner arrested him. 'That
+is, if you do not object,' he finished, with a pleading look.</p>
+
+<p>But for once Audrey was obdurate.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, I would rather carry them myself. There is
+no need to take you out of your way.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt that her tone was cold&mdash;that she was utterly
+unlike herself; but her one thought was to get rid of him.
+But she need not have feared Cyril's importunity. He drew
+back at once, and put the leaves in her hand without speaking;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">{190}</a></span>
+but he turned very pale, and there was a hurt look in his eyes.
+Audrey put out her hand to him, but he did not seem to
+see it; he only muttered something that sounded like 'Good-morning,'
+as he lifted his cap and went back to the gate.
+Audrey walked on very fast, but her cheeks would not cool,
+and a miserable feeling of discomfort harassed her. She was
+vexed with him, but still more with herself. Why need she
+have taken alarm so quickly? It was not like her to be so
+missish and disagreeable. Why had she been so cold, so unfriendly,
+just because he seemed a little too pleased to see her?</p>
+
+<p>And now she had hurt him terribly&mdash;she was quite sure of
+that&mdash;she who never willingly offended anyone. He had been
+too proud, too gentlemanly, to obtrude himself where he was
+evidently not wanted; but his pained, reproachful look as he
+drew back would haunt her for the rest of the day. And, then,
+how splendidly handsome he had looked! She had once likened
+him to a Greek god, but it may be doubted whether even the
+youthful Apollo had seemed more absolutely perfect when he
+revealed himself in human form to some Athenian votary, than
+Cyril Blake in the glory of his young manhood. Audrey had
+not recognised this so keenly before.</p>
+
+<p>'I must make it up to him somehow. I cannot bear to
+quarrel with anyone. I would rather do anything than hurt
+his feelings,' she thought; and it needed all her excellent
+common-sense to prevent her from running back to say a kind
+word to him.</p>
+
+<p>'I was in a hurry&mdash;I was too abrupt; I did not mean to
+be unkind'&mdash;this was what she longed to say to him. 'Please
+come with me as far as the cottage, and tell me all you have
+been doing.' Well, and what withheld her from such a natural
+course&mdash;from making her amends in this graceful and generous
+fashion? Simply that same maidenly instinct of self-preservation.
+She did not go back; she dare not trust herself
+with Cyril Blake, because she was afraid of him, and perhaps&mdash;though
+this was not quite so clear to her&mdash;she was afraid of
+herself. But, all the same, she was very miserable&mdash;for doing
+one's duty does not always make one happy&mdash;and she felt the
+joy of her home-coming was already marred; for, with a person
+of Audrey's temperament, there is no complete enjoyment if
+she were not in thorough harmony with everyone. One false
+note, one 'little rift within the lute,' and the whole melody is
+spoiled. So Audrey's gaiety seemed all quenched that afternoon,
+and though her old friend testified the liveliest satisfaction at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">{191}</a></span>
+the sight of her, and Priscilla could not make enough of her,
+she was conscious that, as far as her own pleasure was concerned,
+the visit was a failure.</p>
+
+<p>But she was aware that no one but herself was conscious
+of this fact. Certainly not honest Tom O'Brien, as he sat
+smoking his pipe in the porch, and listening to her descriptions
+of Highland scenery with a beaming face; neither was Mrs.
+Baxter a keen observer, as she testified by her parting speech.</p>
+
+<p>'You have done father a world of good, Miss Ross,' she said,
+as she walked down to the little gate with Audrey. 'I think
+there is no one he so loves to see, or who cheers him up in
+the same way as you do. You are young, you see, and young
+people take more cheerful views of life; and it is easy to see
+you have not a care on you. Not that I begrudge you your
+happiness, for no one deserves it more; and long may it continue,
+Miss Ross,' finished Mrs. Baxter, with her usual mournfulness.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">{192}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>'HE IS VERY BRAVE'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Ah! life grows lovely where you are;</div>
+<div class="vind2">Only to think of you gives light</div>
+<div class="vind2">To my dark heart; within whose night</div>
+<div class="verse">Your image, though you hide afar,</div>
+<div class="verse">Glows like a lake-reflected star.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Mathilde Blind.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>For the first time Audrey closed the little gate of Vineyard
+Cottage with a sense of relief that her visit was over. The
+two hours she had just passed had been quite an ordeal to her.
+True, she had exerted herself to some purpose: she had talked
+and amused her old friend; she had partaken of Mrs. Baxter's
+cakes; she had even summoned up a semblance of gaiety that
+had wholly deceived them. But all the time her heart had
+been heavy within her, and her remembrance of Cyril's grieved
+look came between her and enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>It had been a lovely afternoon when she had started for her
+walk, but now some heavy clouds were obscuring the blue sky.
+The air felt heavy and oppressive, and Audrey quickened her
+steps, fearing lest a storm should overtake her in the long
+unsheltered lanes that still lay between her and home. She
+drew her breath a little as she approached the place where she
+had parted with Cyril more than two hours ago. Then she
+gave a great start, and again the blood rushed to her face, for
+through a gap in the hedge she could see a brown tweed coat
+quite plainly. He was still there&mdash;still in the same position.
+She could see the line of his shoulders as he stooped a little
+over the gate, with the peak of his cap drawn over his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey slackened her pace. She felt a little breathless and
+giddy. She would have to pass him quite close, and, of course,
+if he meant to speak to her&mdash;&mdash;But no: though he heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">{193}</a></span>
+her footsteps, and half turned his head and seemed to listen,
+he did not move his arms from the gate. He evidently meant
+to take no advantage, to let her pass him if she wished to
+do so. Audrey could read this determination in his averted
+face. Most likely he wished her to think that his abstraction
+was too great to allow him to notice her light footfall; he would
+make it easy for her to pass him&mdash;a man's eyes can only see
+what they are looking at. But this time Audrey's prudence
+counselled her in vain; her soft heart would not allow her to
+go past him as a stranger. She stopped and looked at him;
+but Cyril did not turn his head.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake,' she said gently; and then he did move slightly.</p>
+
+<p>'I am not in your way, I hope,' he said rather coldly. 'I
+did not know it was so late, or I would have gone back. Please
+do not let me keep you, Miss Ross; I am afraid there will be a
+storm directly.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case you had better come with me,' she returned,
+trying to speak with her usual friendly ease. But his proud,
+sad look rather daunted her. How could she leave him and go
+on her way, when he seemed so utterly cast down and miserable;
+and it was all her fault? 'Please do not shake your head, Mr.
+Blake. I know you are hurt with me because I was rather
+abrupt just now; but I meant nothing at all, only that I was
+in a hurry, and&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'That you did not wish for my company,' he added
+bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Mr. Blake!'</p>
+
+<p>'You are right&mdash;quite right,' he went on, in a tone that
+pierced Audrey's heart, it was so hopeless, so full of pain; and
+now he did place himself at her side. 'I do not blame you in
+the least; it was the truest kindness. I can see that now. It
+is not your fault that I have been a fool. Miss Ross, I wished
+you to pass; I never meant to speak or to obtrude myself on
+you, but you stopped of your own accord.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wished to apologise to you for my abruptness. I did not
+like you to think me unkind.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are never unkind, you could not be if you tried,' he
+returned in the same passionate tone; 'you are only so absolutely
+true. You saw what I ought never to have shown
+you, and you thought it only right to check me. Yes, I was
+hurt for a moment, I will allow it. Perhaps in some sort of
+sense I am hurt now. I suppose a man may own to being hurt
+when his heart is half broken.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">{194}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Please, please do not talk so.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will promise never to talk so again,' he returned with sad
+humility; 'but I have gone too far to stop now.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, oh no!' trying to check him; but she might as well
+have tried to check a river that had broken bonds. For once
+Cyril determined that he would be heard.</p>
+
+<p>'It is your own fault,' he returned, looking at her; 'you
+should have passed on and left me to my misery. Yes, I am
+miserable; and you have made me so: and yet for all that you
+are not to be blamed. How could I see you, how could I be
+with you, and not love you? I have loved you from the very
+first hour I saw you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, hush, hush!' Audrey was half sobbing. There were
+great tears rolling down her face; she could hardly bear to
+hear him or to look at him, his face was so white and strained.</p>
+
+<p>'I must always love you,' he went on in the same low concentrated
+voice. 'I have never seen anyone like you; there is
+not another girl in the world who would do as you are doing.
+How can I help losing my heart to you? No man could, in
+my position.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am very sorry,' she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not be sorry'&mdash;and then he saw her tears, and his
+voice softened from its vehemence and became very gentle.
+'You are so kind that I know you would spare me this pain if
+you could&mdash;but it is not in your power; neither is it in mine.
+Do not be afraid of me,' he went on quickly, as she would have
+spoken. 'Remember I am asking you for nothing. I expect
+nothing. What right have I to aspire to such as you? Even
+if I have dared to dream, my dreams are at an end now, when
+you have shown me so plainly&mdash;&mdash;' He stopped and turned
+aside his face, but no words could have been so eloquent as that
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake, will you let me say something? I am grieved,
+grieved to the heart, that this should have happened. If I
+could have prevented it, not a word of all this should have been
+spoken; but it is too late to say so now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Far, far too late!'</p>
+
+<p>'So we must make the best of it. I must try to forget all
+that has passed, and, Mr. Blake, you must promise me to do
+the same.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have promised,' he returned proudly. 'I promised you
+of my own accord that I would never talk to you in this way
+again; but you must not ask anything more of me.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">{195}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'May I not?' in rather a faltering voice.</p>
+
+<p>'It would be useless,' he replied quickly. 'I can never
+leave off loving you. I would part with my life first. I think
+I am not one of those men who could ever love twice. I am
+young, still something tells me this; but all the same you have
+nothing to fear from me. I know your position and mine.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must not speak as though we were not equal,' she
+said, in her desire to comfort him and raise him up from his
+despondency; 'it is not that. What does one's poverty or
+wealth matter?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, it is not that,' he answered, with a significance that
+made her lower her eyes; 'in one sense we are equals, for one
+cannot be more or less than a gentleman, and when one has
+youth and strength, and a moderate amount of talents, one can
+always raise one's self to the level of the woman one loves.
+And if I had thought that you could ever have cared for
+me&mdash;&mdash;' His voice trembled; he could not proceed.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. Blake, I must beg, I do entreat you to say no more.'
+Audrey's lips were quivering; she looked quite pale. At that
+moment she could bear no more.</p>
+
+<p>'Forgive me,' he said remorsefully. 'I was thinking more
+of myself than you. I am trying you too much.'</p>
+
+<p>She could not deny this, but with her usual unselfishness
+she strove again for some comforting word.</p>
+
+<p>'It will be as though you had not spoken,' she said, in so
+low a voice that he had to stoop to hear her. 'It will be
+sacred, quite sacred; do not let it spoil everything&mdash;we&mdash;I
+have been so happy; let us try to remain good friends.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will try my best, but it will be very hard.' Perhaps, if
+she had seen his face that moment, she would have known that
+what she asked was impossible. How could he be friends with
+this girl? Even while he assented to that innocent request he
+knew it could never be.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross,' he said suddenly, for his position was becoming
+too difficult for him, and it was his duty to shield her as much
+as possible, 'we are just in the town, and perhaps it would be
+better for me to drop behind a little. It will not do for people
+to notice; and now the rain is beginning, and if you do not
+hurry on you will be wet.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well,' she returned; and then rather timidly she put
+out her hand to him. Cyril did not ignore it this time; he
+held it fast for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'You have been good, very patient with me,' he said rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">{196}</a></span>
+huskily. 'Thank you for that, as well as for everything else:
+and then he stepped aside and waited for her to leave him.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey's limbs were trembling; she had never felt so agitated
+in her life. She hurried on, panting a little with her haste;
+but the drops fell faster and faster, and just at the entrance to
+the town she was obliged to take refuge in a shed by the roadside.
+The street was dark, and she knew no one could see her.
+She would have time to recover herself a little before she had
+to answer all her mother's anxious questions. There was a carpenter's
+bench and a pile of planks; she sat down on them, and
+looked out at the heavy torrents of rain. By and by Cyril
+passed, but he did not notice her; he was walking very fast
+and his head was erect, as though he were not conscious of the
+rain beating down on him. Audrey shrank back a little as she
+saw him. 'He is young, but he is strong,' she said to herself;
+'he is almost as strong as Michael;' and then her tears flowed
+again, but she wiped them away a little impatiently. 'I must
+be strong, too, for his sake as well as my own; it will never do
+for people to find out his secret. He must be spared as much
+as possible. I must help him all I can.' But as she argued
+herself into calmness she told herself again and again how
+thankful she was that Michael was away. Michael was so
+observant, so clear-sighted, that it was impossible to hoodwink
+him. He had a terrible habit of going straight to the point,
+of putting questions that one could hardly evade. He would
+have seen in a moment that she had been crying, and any
+refusal on her part to satisfy his inquiries would only have
+deepened his suspicions. 'I could not have faced Michael,' she
+thought, as the rain suddenly stopped and she stepped out into
+the wet gleaming roads.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey played her part in the conversation so badly that
+night that Mrs. Ross observed, uneasily, that she was sure
+Audrey had taken a chill:</p>
+
+<p>'For she is quite flushed, John,' she continued anxiously,
+'and I noticed her shiver more than once. She has overheated
+herself in that long walk, and then being caught in that
+heavy rain has done the mischief.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross looked at his daughter. Perhaps, in spite of his
+short-sight, he was more observant than his wife, for he took
+the girl's face between his hands:</p>
+
+<p>'Go to bed, my child,' he said kindly, 'and I will finish
+that game of chess with your mother;' and Audrey, with a
+grateful kiss, obeyed him. But as Dr. Ross placed himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">{197}</a></span>
+opposite his wife he seemed a little absent, as though he were
+listening in vain for something. For it was Audrey's habit to
+sing snatches of some gay tune as she mounted the stairs.
+But to-night there was no 'Widow Miller'; it was the Doctor
+who hummed the refrain to himself, as he captured an unwary
+pawn:</p>
+
+<table summary="poem">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'When ye bind up the sheaves, leave out a few grains</div>
+<div class="verse">To the heart-broken widow who never complains.'</div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Audrey felt that night as though she should never sing
+again&mdash;as though she had committed some crime that must for
+ever separate her from her old happy self.</p>
+
+<p>To most people this remorse for an unconscious fault would
+have seemed morbid and exaggerated. Thousands of girls have
+to inflict this sort of pain at least once in their lives; the
+wrong man loves them, and the disastrous 'No' must be spoken.
+Audrey had not even said 'No,' for nothing had been asked her&mdash;she
+had only had to listen to a declaration of love, an
+honest, manly confession, that had been wrung from the
+speaker's lips. Wherein, then, did the blame consist? and
+why was Audrey shedding such bitter tears as she sat by her
+window that night looking over the dark garden? For a
+hundred complex reasons, too involved and intricate to disentangle
+in one brief hour.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was accusing herself of blindness&mdash;of wilful and
+foolish blindness. She ought to have seen, she must have seen,
+to what all this was tending. Again and again Mr. Blake had
+shown her quite plainly the extent of her influence over him.
+Could she not have warned him in time to prevent this most
+unhappy declaration? Would it not have been kinder to have
+drawn back in the first months of their intimacy, and have
+interposed some barrier of dignified reserve that would have
+kept him silent for ever? But no! she had drawn him on:
+not by coquetry&mdash;Audrey was far too high-minded to coquet
+with any man&mdash;but simply by the warm friendliness of her
+manner. She had liked his company; she had accepted his
+attentions, not once had she repulsed him; and the consequence
+was his attachment had grown and increased in intensity day
+by day, until it had overmastered him. He had said that his
+heart was almost broken, and it was her fault. What right
+had she to be so kind to him, until her very softness and
+graciousness had fed his wild hopes? Was it not true when
+he had implied that his misery lay at her door?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">{198}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt as though her own heart was broken that night&mdash;such
+a passion of pity and remorse swept over her. What
+would she not give to undo it all!</p>
+
+<p>'If I could only bear some of his suffering,' she thought,
+'if I could only comfort him, I should not care what became of
+myself. I would sooner bear anything than incur this awful
+responsibility of spoiling a life;' and Audrey wept again.</p>
+
+<p>But even at this miserable crisis she shrank from questioning
+herself too closely. A sort of terror and strange beating at the
+heart assailed her if she tried to look into her own thoughts.
+Was there no subtle sweetness in the knowledge that she was
+so beloved? No wish, lying deep down in her heart, that it
+might have been possible to comfort him?</p>
+
+<p>'It would not do&mdash;it would not do. I am sure of him, but
+not of myself,' she thought, 'and it would make them all so
+unhappy. If I could only think it right&mdash;&mdash;' and then she
+stopped, and there was a sad, sad look in her eyes. 'I will not
+think of it any more to-night.' And then she knelt and, in her
+simple girlish way, prayed that God would forgive her, for she
+had been wrong, miserably wrong; and would comfort him, and
+make it possible for them to remain friends: 'for I do not wish
+to lose him,' thought Audrey, as she laid her head on her pillow
+that, for once in her bright young life, seemed sown with thorns.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to Audrey as though she had never passed a more
+uncomfortable three weeks than those that followed that unfortunate
+talk in the Brail lanes; and, in spite of all her
+efforts to appear as though nothing had happened, her looks and
+gravity were noticed by both Mrs. Ross and Geraldine.</p>
+
+<p>'I told your father that it was a chill,' observed Mrs. Ross,
+on more than one occasion. 'She is growing thin, and her
+eyes are so heavy in the morning. There is nothing worse than
+a suppressed cold,' she went on anxiously, for even a small
+ailment in one of her children always called forth her motherly
+solicitude.</p>
+
+<p>But Geraldine held another opinion. Audrey never took
+cold; she had often got wet through in Scotland, and it had
+never hurt her. She thought it more probable that Audrey
+was troubled about something&mdash;perhaps she missed Michael, or&mdash;then
+she paused, and looked at her mother with significance&mdash;perhaps,
+who knows? she might even be a little hurt at Mr.
+Blake's desertion. For a certain little bird&mdash;that fabulous
+winged purveyor of gossip, dear to the feminine mind&mdash;had
+whispered into young Mrs. Harcourt's ear a most curious story.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">{199}</a></span>
+It was said that Mr. Blake had fallen deeply in love with a
+Cornish beauty, a certain Miss Frances Hackett, and that his
+moody looks were all owing to this.</p>
+
+<p>'Edith has seen her,' went on Geraldine, as she repeated
+this story with immense relish; 'she is a pretty little thing, a
+dark-eyed brunette. The Hacketts are very wealthy people, and
+they say Miss Frances will have a few thousand pounds of her
+own; so he will be lucky if he gets her. Perhaps the p&egrave;re
+Hackett is obdurate, and this may account for Mr. Blake's
+gloom&mdash;for he is certainly very bad company just now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your father thinks he looks very ill; he was speaking to
+me about him last night. It is wonderful what a fancy he has
+taken to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think we all like him,' returned Geraldine, who could
+afford to praise him now her fears about Audrey were removed.
+'Miss Frances might do worse for herself. He is very clever&mdash;a
+rising young man, as Percy says&mdash;and then he is so handsome:
+a girl might well lose her heart to him.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross was quite willing to regard Mr. Blake as Miss
+Frances' suitor&mdash;an unhappy lover was sure to excite her
+warmest sympathy&mdash;but she was a little shocked and scandalised
+at Geraldine's hint.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear,' she said, in a more dignified tone than she usually
+employed to her eldest daughter, 'I do not think you have any
+right to say such a thing of your sister. Audrey is the last
+girl in the world to fancy any man was in love with her, or to
+trouble herself because he chose to fall in love with some one
+else. I have often seen her and Mr. Blake together&mdash;he has
+dined here a dozen times&mdash;and her manner has always been
+perfectly friendly with him, as frank as possible&mdash;just as it is to
+Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought she seemed a little constrained and uncomfortable
+last night when Mr. Blake came into the room,' returned
+Geraldine, who certainly seemed to notice everything; but she
+knew her mother too well to say more just then.</p>
+
+<p>With all her softness, Mrs. Ross had a great deal of
+womanly dignity, and nothing would have ruffled her more than
+to be made to believe that one of her girls cared for a man who
+had just given his heart to another woman, and that Audrey&mdash;her
+bright, unselfish Audrey&mdash;should be that girl. No, she
+would never have been brought to believe it.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was quite aware that her sister's eyes were upon
+her, and she exerted herself to the utmost on every occasion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">{200}</a></span>
+when Geraldine was present. But gaiety was very far from
+her, and she felt each day, with a certain sickness of heart, that
+her burden was growing too heavy for her. Her position with
+regard to Mr. Blake was becoming more difficult. In spite of
+his efforts to see as little as possible of her, circumstances were
+perpetually throwing them together. Every day they met at
+luncheon; she must still keep her seat between him and her
+father, but how differently that hour passed now! Instead of
+that eager, low-toned talk, that merry interchange of daily news
+and plans, Cyril would be absorbed in his carving, in his supervision
+of the boys; he seemed to have no leisure to talk to
+Audrey. A grave remark upon the weather, a brief question or
+two, and then he turned to his fellow-master, Mr. Greville.
+Audrey never tried to divert his attention; she listened to the
+two young men a little wearily. Politics could still interest him,
+she thought; yes, politics were always safe. Once, when he
+had no excuse to offer&mdash;for he was very ready with his excuses&mdash;he
+joined them at the family dinner. Audrey never passed
+such a miserable evening. She sat opposite him; there was
+no other guest to break the awkwardness&mdash;only Mr. Blake and
+her mother and father and herself.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time she had been compelled to look at him,
+and she was painfully struck with the alteration in him. Her
+father was right; he certainly looked ill. He was thinner,
+older, and there were dark lines under his eyes. Just at that
+moment Cyril seemed to become aware of her scrutiny; their
+eyes met, but it was Audrey who blushed and looked embarrassed.
+Cyril did not flinch, only his right hand contracted
+under the table-cloth. She played chess with him afterwards.
+There was no help for it; Dr. Ross had proposed it. Audrey
+was so nervous that she played shamefully, and lost her queen
+at the third move.</p>
+
+<p>'How stupid of me!' she said, trying to laugh it off.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril looked at her very gravely.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid you find this a bore,' he said, with such evident
+understanding of her nervousness that the tears came to her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>When they had played a little longer, he suddenly jumbled
+the pieces together.</p>
+
+<p>'It is unfair to take advantage of you any longer,' he said,
+jumping up; 'no one can play without a queen, and you have
+lost your castles and one of your knights, and I was just going
+to take the other. It is only trying your patience for nothing;
+the game is mine.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">{201}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it is yours,' returned Audrey, in rather a melancholy
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>Why had he ended it so abruptly? Could he have noticed
+how her hand shook? How very nervous she had been! She
+did not dare look at him as he bade her good-night.</p>
+
+<p>'I must go,' she heard him say to Dr. Ross. 'I have work
+to finish;' and then he went out, and she heard the door close
+behind him.</p>
+
+<p>'Is it always to be like this?' thought Audrey, as she stood
+by her window. 'Will he never speak to me or look at me
+again in the old way? To-night he went away to spare me,
+because he saw how uncomfortable I was. He is very brave;
+I suppose a man's pride helps him. Somehow, I think it is
+easier for him than me. Perhaps I am different from other
+women, but I always feel as though I would rather bear pain
+myself than inflict it on another person.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">{202}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>'NO, YOU HAVE NOT SPARED ME'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Thy word unspoken thou canst any day</div>
+<div class="verse">Speak; but thy spoken ne'er again unsay.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><i>Eastern Proverb</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Trench.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Michael was still away. The business that detained him
+was not to be settled as easily as he had expected; there were
+complications&mdash;a host of minor difficulties. He was unwilling
+to return until things were definitely arranged.</p>
+
+<p>'I am too proud of my present position,' he wrote to Audrey;
+'the mere fact that I am of some use in the world, and that
+one human being feels my advice helpful to him, quite reconciles
+me to my prolonged absence. Of course I mean to keep Kester
+with me. He is perfectly happy, and fairly revels in London
+sights. He and Fred are thick as thieves. Abercrombie saw
+him the other day&mdash;you know who I mean: Donald Abercrombie.
+He is a consulting physician now, and is making
+quite a name for himself. He has good-naturedly promised to
+look into the case. He says, from the little he has seen, he is
+sure the boy has been neglected, and that care and medical
+skill could have done much for him in the beginning. Abercrombie
+is just the fellow to interest himself thoroughly in a
+case like Kester's, and I have great hopes of the result. I
+have written to his brother, but perhaps you would be wise to
+say as little as possible to Mrs. Blake. She is far too sanguine
+by nature; and it would never do to excite hopes that might
+never be gratified. Mr. Blake is of a different calibre; he will
+look at the thing more sensibly.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey sighed as she laid aside Michael's letter. She seemed
+to miss him more every day, and yet she was quite willing that
+his absence should be prolonged. Michael would have noticed
+her want of spirits in a moment; she would never have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">{203}</a></span>
+free from his affectionate surveillance. At a distance everything
+was so much easier; she could write cheerfully; she could fill
+the sheets with small incidents and matters of local interest,
+with pleasant inquiries about himself and Kester.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, Michael's face grew graver over each letter.
+He could not have told himself what was lacking to his entire
+satisfaction, only some strange subtle chord of sympathy, as
+delicate as it was unerring, warned him that all was not right
+with the girl.</p>
+
+<p>'She is not as bright as usual,' he thought. 'Audrey's
+letters are generally overflowing with fun. There is a grave,
+almost a forced, tone about this last one. And she so seldom
+mentions the Blakes.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had certainly avoided the Gray Cottage during the
+last three weeks; even Mollie's lessons were irksome to her.
+Mollie's tongue was not easily silenced. In spite of all her
+efforts, her cheeks often burnt at the girl's innocent loquacity.
+Mollie was for ever making awkward speeches or asking questions
+that Audrey found difficult to answer; she would chatter
+incessantly about her mother and Cyril.</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma is so dreadfully worried about Cyril!' she said
+once. 'She wants him to speak to Dr. Powell; she is quite
+sure that he is ill. He hardly eats anything&mdash;at least, he has
+no appetite&mdash;and mamma says that is so strange in a young
+man. And he walks about his room half the night; Biddy
+hears him. You recollect that evening he dined at Woodcote?
+Well, he never came home that night until past twelve, and
+Biddy declares that his bed was not slept in at all; he must
+just have thrown himself down on it for an hour or two. And
+he had such a bad headache the next morning.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey walked to the piano and threw it open.</p>
+
+<p>'I am very sorry your brother is not well,' she said in rather
+a forced voice, as she flecked a little dust off the legs. 'Mollie,
+I think Caroline has forgotten to dust the piano this morning.
+Will you hand me that feather-brush, please? I want you to
+try this duet with me; it is such a pretty one!' And after
+that Mollie's fingers were kept so hard at work that she found
+no more opportunity for talking about Cyril.</p>
+
+<p>Another time, as Audrey looked over her French exercise,
+she heard a deep sigh, and glancing up from the book, found
+Mollie gazing at her with round sorrowful eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, what now?' she asked a little sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I am so sorry, Miss Ross!' returned Mollie, faltering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">{204}</a></span>
+and turning red; 'I am so dreadfully sorry, Miss Ross, that
+Cyril has offended you. I thought you were such good friends,
+but now&mdash;&mdash;' She stopped, somewhat abashed at Audrey's
+displeased expression.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Mollie, I have never been really vexed with you before;
+but you will annoy me excessively if you talk such nonsense.
+I am not in the least offended with your brother&mdash;whatever
+made you say such a thing?&mdash;and we are perfectly good friends.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey spoke with much dignity as she took up her pen again.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mollie looked very much frightened.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh dear, Miss Ross,' she said penitently, 'you are not
+really cross with me, are you? It was not my own idea; only
+mamma said last night that she was sure you were offended
+about something, for you never come to see us now, and your
+manner was so different when she spoke to you after chapel on
+Sunday; and then she said perhaps Cyril had offended you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I tell you it is all nonsense, Mollie!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but I am sure there is something,' returned Mollie,
+half crying, for Audrey had never been impatient with her before.
+'Cyril will never let me talk to him about you; he gets up and
+leaves the room when mamma begins wondering why you never
+come. Cyril was quite cross when she asked him to give you a
+message the other day. "It is more in Mollie's line," he said;
+"I never can remember messages," and he walked away, and
+mamma cried, and said she could not think what had happened
+to him&mdash;that he had never been cross with her in his life before;
+but that now she hardly dared open her lips to him, he took
+her up so.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey sighed wearily, then she gave Mollie a comforting
+little pat.</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie, dear,' she said kindly, 'I did not mean to be cross
+with you; but you do say such things, you know, and really
+you are old enough to know better'&mdash;and as Mollie only looked
+at her wonderingly&mdash;'oh, go away!&mdash;you are a dear little soul;
+but you talk as though you were a baby; no one is offended.
+If your brother is not well, why cannot you leave him in peace?
+I don't think you understand that men never like to be
+questioned about their ailments; they are not like women.
+Cornwall certainly did not agree with him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think it is only that? Oh, I won't say another
+word if you will only not be cross with me;' and Mollie relieved
+her feelings by one of her strangling hugs.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie was quite used to people finding fault with her and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">{205}</a></span>
+telling her she was a goose. When Audrey kissed her, she sat
+down and copied her exercise in a humble and contrite spirit; it
+was Audrey who felt sad and spiritless the rest of the day. 'It
+has gone deeper than I thought; it has gone very deep,' she said
+with a sort of shiver, as she walked up to Hillside that afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>But a far worse ordeal was before Audrey&mdash;one that threw
+all Mollie's girlish chatter into the shade. A few days afterwards
+she received a little note from Mrs. Blake.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'<span class="smcap">My dear Miss Ross</span>,' it began,</p>
+
+<p>'I am nearly desperate. What have Mollie or I done
+that we should be sent to Coventry after this fashion? At
+least, not Mollie&mdash;I am wrong there: Mollie still basks in the
+light of your smiles, is still allowed to converse with you; it is
+only I who seem to be debarred from such privileges. Now,
+my dear creature, what can you mean by keeping away from us
+like this? I was at Woodcote yesterday, but you had flown. I
+had to sit and chat with Mrs. Ross instead; she is delightful,
+but she is not her daughter; no one but yourself can ever fill
+your place; no one can be Miss Ross. Now will you make us
+amends for all this unfriendliness? If you will only come to
+tea with me to-morrow I will promise you full forgiveness and
+the warmest of welcomes.</p>
+
+<p>
+'Yours affectionately but resentfully,<span class="sep">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span><span class="smcap">M. Blake.</span>'<br />
+</p></div>
+
+<p>Audrey wrote a pretty playful little answer to this. She
+was sorry to be accused of unfriendliness, but nothing was
+farther from her thoughts; she was very busy, very much
+engaged. Relays of parents had been interviewing them at
+Woodcote; her sister had not been well, and all her afternoons
+had been spent at Hillside. Mrs. Blake must be lenient; she
+would come soon, very soon, and so on. Mrs. Blake was more
+formidable than Mollie, and Audrey was determined to delay
+her visit as long as possible. Just now she had a good excuse.
+Geraldine was a little delicate and ailing, and either she or her
+mother went daily to Hillside.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey breathed more freely when she had sent off her note;
+she had given it into Cyril's hand at luncheon&mdash;a sudden
+impulse made her choose that mode of delivery.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish you would give this to your mother,' she said,
+addressing him suddenly as he sat beside her. 'She wants me
+to have tea with her to-morrow; but it is impossible, I have so
+much to do just now.'</p>
+
+<p>'I could have told her; there was no need for you to write<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">{206}</a></span>
+or to trouble yourself in any way. I am afraid my mother is
+rather exacting; it is a Blake foible.' He smiled as he spoke,
+and there was no special meaning in his tone; he seemed to
+take it as a matter of course that Audrey's visits to the Cottage
+had ceased. 'It will be all right,' he said, as he put the letter
+in his breast-pocket; and then he stopped and called some boy
+to order. 'You will stay in after luncheon, Roberts,' he said
+severely, and after that he did not speak again to Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>But that letter, strange to say, brought things to a climax.
+The very next morning Mollie gave Audrey a note.</p>
+
+<p>'It is from mamma,' she said, rather timidly. 'Would you
+like me to begin my piece, Miss Ross, while you read it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, certainly; but it does not seem a long letter.' And,
+indeed, it only contained a few words:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'<span class="smcap">Dear Miss Ross</span>,</p>
+
+<p>'I must see you. If you will not come to me, will you
+tell Mollie when I may call? But I must and will speak to
+you alone.'</p></div>
+
+<p>Audrey twisted up the paper in her hand; then she stood
+behind Mollie and beat time for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie,' she said hurriedly, as she turned over the page,
+'will you tell your mother that I will come to her this afternoon
+a little before three? I shall not be able to stay, but just for
+half an hour;' and then she sat down and quietly and patiently
+pointed out how an erring passage ought to be played. But
+there was a tired look on her face long before the lesson ended.</p>
+
+<p>All her life long Audrey never forgot the strange chill sensation
+that came over her as she read that note; it was as though
+some dim, overmastering force were impelling her against her
+own will. As she crushed the letter in her hand, she told
+herself that circumstances were becoming too strong for her.</p>
+
+<p>Her face was very grave that afternoon as she pushed open
+the green gate and walked up to the open door. It seemed
+to her as though she were someone else, as she crossed the
+threshold and stood for a moment in the little hall. Biddy
+came out of the kitchen. The mistress was in the drawing-room,
+she said, and Miss Mollie was out; and Audrey, still
+with that strange weight at her heart, went upstairs slowly.
+Mrs. Blake was sitting in her usual seat by the window. She
+rose without speaking and took Audrey's hands, but there was
+no smile upon her face. She looked very pale, and Audrey
+could see at once that she had been weeping.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">{207}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You have come,' she said quietly; 'I thought my letter would
+bring you. Perhaps it was wrong of me to write; I ought to
+have come to you instead. But how was I to speak to you alone?
+Last night I was almost desperate, and then I was obliged to send
+for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you wanted me so much, of course you were right to
+send for me.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was conscious that her manner was cold, and that
+her voice was hardly as sympathetic as usual. She was sure
+Mrs. Blake noticed it, for her eyes filled with tears.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, how coldly you speak! My poor boy has indeed
+offended you deeply. Oh, I know everything; he was too
+unhappy last night to hide it any longer from his mother. Do
+you know what he said to me?&mdash;that with all his strength he
+could not bear it, and that he must go away.'</p>
+
+<p>'Go away&mdash;leave Rutherford?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes;' and now the tears were streaming down her face,
+and her voice was almost choked with sobs. 'He said he must
+give it up, and that we must all go away&mdash;that the effort is
+killing him, and that no man could bear such an ordeal. Oh,
+Miss Ross'&mdash;as Audrey averted her face&mdash;'I know you are
+sorry for him; but think what it was for his mother to stand
+by and hear him say such things. My boy&mdash;my brave, noble-hearted
+boy, who has never given me an hour's pain in his life!'</p>
+
+<p>'And you have sent for me to tell me this?'</p>
+
+<p>There was something proud, almost resentful, in Audrey's tone.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but you must not be angry with me. I think that,
+if Cyril knew that I was betraying him, he would never give me
+his confidence again. Last night I heard him walking about
+his room, and I went up to him. He wanted to send me
+away, but I would not go. I knelt down beside him and put
+my arms round his neck, and told him that I had found out his
+secret. It had come to me with a sudden flash as I sat beside
+him in chapel last Sunday. You passed up the aisle, and I saw
+his face, and then I knew what ailed him. And in the darkness
+I whispered in his ear, "My poor boy, you love Audrey Ross!"'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey put up one hand to shield her face, but she made
+no remark. She must hear it all; she had brought this misery
+upon them, and she must not refuse to share it.</p>
+
+<p>'He owned it then. I will not tell you what he said; it
+must be sacred between my boy and me. Oh, you do not know
+him! His nature is intense, like mine; he takes nothing
+easily. When he says that it is killing him by inches, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">{208}</a></span>
+that we must go away, I know he is speaking the truth. How
+is he to live here, seeing you every day, and knowing that there
+is no love for him in your heart? How could any man drag
+out such a hopeless existence?'</p>
+
+<p>'Such things are done every day.' Audrey hardly knew what
+she was saying. A dull pain seemed to contract her heart;
+he was going away. Somehow, this thought had never occurred
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but not by men of Cyril's nature. He is strong, but
+his very strength seems to make him suffer more keenly. If
+he stayed here, people would begin to talk; he would not
+always be able to hide what he felt. He thinks he ought to
+go away for your sake. "I am giving her pain now, and by
+and by it will be worse"&mdash;those were his very words.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think it would be braver to stay on here. Will you tell
+him so, Mrs. Blake?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Miss Ross, I will not tell him so; I will not consent to
+see him slowly tortured. If he tells us we must go, I will not
+say a dissenting word. What is my own comfort compared
+to his? I have had a hard life, God knows! and now it will
+be harder still.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you have other children to consider,' remonstrated
+Audrey faintly. 'If you leave here, Mollie and Kester will be
+sacrificed. Surely, you have put this before him.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed, I have not; he has always been my first consideration.
+Of course, I know how bad it will be for the poor
+children; but if it comes to that&mdash;to choose between them and
+Cyril&mdash;&mdash;' And a strange, passionate look came into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush, hush! I do not like to hear you talk so,' replied
+Audrey. 'It is wrong; no mother ought to make such a
+difference. You are not yourself, or you would not say such
+things. It is all this trouble.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps you are right,' she returned drearily. 'I think it
+has half crazed me to know we must go away. Oh, if you
+knew what my life has been, and what a haven of rest this has
+seemed!' She looked round the room, and a sort of spasm
+crossed her face. 'It is all so sweet and homelike, and he has
+loved it so; and now to begin all afresh, and to go amongst
+strangers&mdash;and then the loss&mdash;&mdash;' She stopped as though
+something seemed to choke her.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt as though she could hear no more. 'It is all
+my fault,' she burst out; 'how you must hate me!' But Mrs.
+Blake shook her head with a sad smile.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">{209}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I don't seem to have the power of hating you,' she said, so
+gently that Audrey's lip quivered. 'How can I hate what my
+boy loves?' and then she paused and looked at Audrey, as
+though the sight of her suppressed emotion stirred some dim
+hope within her: 'If I thought it would help him, I would
+kneel at your feet like a beggar and pray you to have compassion
+upon him; but I know what such pity would be worth&mdash;do
+you think Cyril would accept any woman's pity?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no,' and then Audrey rose and put out her hands in a
+beseeching way. 'Will you let me go? Indeed, indeed, I can
+bear no more&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you shall go,' returned Mrs. Blake in a stifled tone.
+'I have not been generous, I have spared you nothing, and yet
+it is not your fault. You have not played with my boy's
+heart; you never tried to win his heart. Cyril said so himself.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, you have not spared me,' was Audrey's answer, and
+then the two women parted without kissing each other&mdash;Audrey
+was too sore, too bewildered, for any such caress. They
+stood holding each other's hands for a moment, and then Mrs.
+Blake walked to the other end of the room and threw herself
+down upon a couch. Audrey looked at her for an instant, then
+she turned and went slowly down the stairs. But as she closed
+the green gate after her, she told herself that she must be alone
+for a little, and with a sudden impulse she turned into the
+courtyard that led to the school-house and chapel. There was
+one spot where she would be in perfect seclusion, and that was
+the school library; even if some stray boy were to make his
+appearance in search of a book&mdash;a very unlikely thing at this
+time in the afternoon&mdash;her presence there would attract no
+notice: she had several times chosen it as a cool, quiet retreat
+on a hot summer's afternoon. The sight of the big shabby
+room, with its pillars and book recesses and sloping desks, gave
+her a momentary sense of relief. The stillness soothed her, and
+the tumultuous singing in her head and ears seemed to lull. She
+sat down in one of the inner recesses and looked out on the row of
+ivy-covered studies and the little gate that led down to the town.
+A tame jackdaw was hopping among the stones, and a couple
+of fan-tail pigeons were strutting near him. The mellow brightness
+of the October sunshine seemed to flood the whole court.
+Oh, how peaceful it looked, how calm and still! and then Audrey
+suddenly put down her face on her hands and cried like a baby.
+'Oh, if it were only not my fault!' she sobbed; 'but I cannot,
+cannot bear it,' and for a time she could do nothing but weep.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">{210}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>'DADDY, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="vind10">'To his eye</div>
+<div class="verse">There was but one beloved face on earth,</div>
+<div class="verse">And <i>that</i> was shining on him.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Chapman.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Audrey never knew how long she sat there, shedding those
+healing tears, every one of which seemed to relieve her overcharged
+heart; it was a luxury to sit there in that cool
+shadowed stillness. Presently she would rouse herself and go
+back to her world again; presently, but not just now! By
+and by she would think it all out, she would question her own
+heart more closely. Hitherto she had feared any such scrutiny&mdash;now
+it would be selfish, cowardly, to avoid it any longer;
+but at the present minute she was only conscious that she and
+everyone else were miserable.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment she heard footsteps crossing the courtyard.
+Then, to her dismay, they entered the lobby. She had only
+just time to drag down a book from the shelves and open it
+haphazard; it was a volume on natural history. Anyone
+would have thought her absorbed, she pored so attentively over
+that plate of gaudy butterflies, never raising her head to look
+at the new-comer, who stood a few yards off regarding her with
+unqualified astonishment. Cyril Blake&mdash;for it was he, and no
+other, who had entered the library&mdash;would willingly have withdrawn
+without attracting her notice; but one of the boys in the
+sanatorium wanted a certain fascinating book of adventures, and
+he had promised to fetch it. He knew the volume was in this
+very recess, and he saw with some annoyance that it would be
+necessary to disturb her.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Ross,' he said, in that quiet, guarded tone in which he
+always addressed her now, 'may I trouble you to move just for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">{211}</a></span>
+one moment? I am so sorry to disturb you, but Willie
+Taylor&mdash;' and then he stopped as though he were suddenly
+petrified.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had risen quickly, but as she moved aside he had a
+full view of her face&mdash;the flushed cheeks and swollen eyelids
+told their own tale.</p>
+
+<p>'Good heavens!' he exclaimed, forgetting his errand and
+speaking in excessive agitation, 'you are unhappy&mdash;something
+is the matter!' and Cyril turned quite pale.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Audrey! her feelings were not very enviable at that
+moment. That she should be discovered by the very person
+whom she was most anxious to avoid! If he would only go
+away and leave her, and not stand there asking her questions!
+But nothing was farther from Cyril's intentions. For the
+minute he had forgotten everything, except that she was unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>'You are not well, or else something has been troubling you,'
+he continued, and his voice softened with involuntary tenderness.
+'Miss Ross, you promised that we should be friends&mdash;will you
+not treat me as one now? There is nothing I would not do to
+help you, if you would only tell me what is troubling you.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is impossible,' she returned with a little sob. Oh, if he
+would only go away, and not speak to her so kindly! 'One
+must be troubled sometimes, and no one can help me&mdash;if you
+will only leave me to myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Leave you like this?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, indeed&mdash;indeed. I cannot talk;' and Audrey wiped
+away the tears that seemed to blind her. She so seldom gave
+way&mdash;she so seldom permitted herself this feminine luxury of
+tears&mdash;but when once she set them flowing they were simply
+uncontrollable. She could not help what Cyril thought of her.
+'If you would only go away,' she repeated, turning from him as
+he stood there as though rooted to the spot.</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot go;' and here Cyril's lips became quite white
+under his moustache.</p>
+
+<p>Some sudden intuition of the truth had come to him. Why
+had he not thought of that before? It had never even occurred
+to him. An hour ago he had met Mollie wandering about the
+town disconsolately. Miss Ross was at the Cottage, she had
+said; it was only a call, and she had taken the message herself;
+and then her mother had given her some errands to do, and had
+charged her strictly not to return for at least an hour.</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma never likes me to be at home when Miss Ross<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">{212}</a></span>
+comes,' Mollie had observed in an aggrieved tone. But Cyril
+had taken no notice of the speech&mdash;he knew his mother's little
+ways, and no suspicion of the truth had come to him. It was
+only the sight of Audrey's emotion that quickened it into life
+now.</p>
+
+<p>'You have seen my mother,' he exclaimed; and here his
+face grew dark and stern. 'She has been talking to you&mdash;making
+you unhappy. Miss Ross,' as she remained silent,
+'you must answer me. This concerns me very closely. I have
+a right to know if my mother has betrayed me!'</p>
+
+<p>His tone frightened Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'You must not be vexed with her,' she said, rousing herself
+to defend the absent. 'She is very unhappy, and of course it
+troubled me.' Audrey spoke with her usual simplicity&mdash;what
+was the use of trying to hide it any longer? Cyril's impetuous
+pertinacity gave her no chance of escape.</p>
+
+<p>'And she told you that I was going away?'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey bowed her head.</p>
+
+<p>'It was very wrong,' he returned, still sternly. 'Whom is a
+man to trust, if he cannot trust his own mother? She has
+betrayed my confidence. It was cruel to me, but it was far
+more cruel to you&mdash;it is that I cannot forgive.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no! You must not say that&mdash;she did not mean to be
+cruel, Mr. Blake. Of course I ought not to have known this,
+and of course it has made me very unhappy. But now I must
+ask you something. Will you not wait a little? Things may
+be better&mdash;easier&mdash;&mdash;' And here she looked at him timidly,
+and her expression was very sweet.</p>
+
+<p>But Cyril was not looking at her; he was having a hard
+fight with himself. He was angry&mdash;justly angry, as he thought;
+nay, more, he was humiliated that his mother should have
+appealed to this girl&mdash;that, knowing her kind heart, she should
+have inflicted this pain on her. The sight of her grief, her
+gentleness, almost maddened him, and he averted his eyes as
+he answered her.</p>
+
+<p>'They cannot be easier. But do not mistake my meaning&mdash;perhaps
+my mother has misled you&mdash;let me put it right. No
+pain or difficulty is driving me away; do not think that for a
+moment. However hard it might be to go on living here, I
+think I could have endured it, if it were only right to do so.
+But I have made up my mind that it is not right, and to-morrow
+morning I shall speak to Dr. Ross.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no, no!' and here Audrey clasped her hands involuntarily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">{213}</a></span>
+But Cyril's eyes were fixed on some carrier-pigeons
+fluttering across the courtyard.</p>
+
+<p>'It is my duty to do it, and it must be done. If Dr. Ross
+questions me, I shall tell him the truth: "I must go away
+because I have dared to love your daughter; and if I stayed
+here I should never cease from my efforts to win her." That
+is what I should tell him, Miss Ross. I think he will not
+press me to remain under these circumstances.' And Cyril
+gave a bitter little laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps not;' and here Audrey sank down upon her chair,
+for she felt weak and giddy.</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad, at least, that you think I am doing right.'</p>
+
+<p>'I did not say so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pardon me;' and here Cyril did try to get a glimpse of
+her face, for something in her tone baffled him. 'You, who
+know all, must of course approve my conduct. If I stayed
+here I could not answer for myself; it is better&mdash;safer&mdash;that I
+should go; though wherever I am,' here his voice trembled
+with exquisite tenderness, 'I must always love you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then in that case you had better remain.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey tried to shield her face as she spoke, but he had seen
+a little tremulous smile flit over her features, and she could not
+hide her dimple. What could she mean? Was he fooling
+himself&mdash;dreaming? The next moment he had dropped on one
+knee beside her, and was begging her, with tears in his eyes, to
+look at him.</p>
+
+<p>'This is a matter of life and death to me,' he implored,
+compelling her by the very strength of his will to turn her
+blushing face to him. 'Miss Ross&mdash;Audrey'&mdash;his tone almost
+amounting to awe&mdash;'you cannot mean that you really care for
+me?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid I do care too much to let you go,' she half
+whispered. But as he grasped her hands, and looked at her
+almost incredulously: 'Why is it so impossible? I think in a
+way I have long cared.'</p>
+
+<p>But even then he did not seem satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>'It is not pity&mdash;you are sure of that? It is nothing that
+my mother has said? Audrey, if I thought that, I would
+rather die than take advantage of you. Tell me, dear'&mdash;and
+the pleading of his eyes was almost more than she could bear&mdash;'you
+would not so humiliate me?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Cyril, I would not.'</p>
+
+<p>His name came so naturally to her, she hardly knew she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">{214}</a></span>
+said it; but a gleam of joy passed over the young man's face
+as he heard it, and the next moment he drew her towards him.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey took it all quite simply; she listened to her young
+lover's passionate protestation of gratitude, half shyly, half
+happily. The reverence with which he treated her touched
+her profoundly; he did not overpower her with the force of
+his affection. After the first few moments of agitated feeling
+he had quieted himself and her.</p>
+
+<p>'I must not try you too much,' he said. 'If I were to talk
+for an hour I could never make you understand how happy I
+am. It is a new existence; it is wonderful. Yesterday I was
+so tired of my life, and to-day&mdash;to-day, Audrey&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I am happy, too,' she said, in a soft, contented voice. 'All
+these weeks have been so miserable; I seemed to miss you so&mdash;but
+you would have nothing to say to me. Do you remember
+that evening when you took my queen? Oh, how unhappy I was
+that night! And you saw it, and went away.'</p>
+
+<p>'I did not go far,' he returned, taking possession of one
+hand&mdash;the soft white hand that lay so quietly in his. 'It was
+the only thing I could do for you&mdash;to keep out of your sight as
+much as possible. I walked up and down the road like a
+sentinel for hours; it did not seem possible to go home and
+sleep. I felt as though I never wanted to sleep again. I could
+only think of you in your white gown as you sat opposite to me,
+and how your hand trembled, and how cold it felt when I said
+good-night. I thought it was all your goodness, and because
+you were sorry for me. Were you beginning to care for me
+a little even then, my darling?'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know,' she answered gently. 'You must not
+question me too closely. I hardly understand myself how it
+has all come about.'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' he returned, looking at her with a sort of worship in
+his eyes&mdash;the worship with which a good, true woman will
+sometimes inspire a man, and which makes their love a higher
+education; 'it is all a miracle. I am not worthy of you; but
+you shall see&mdash;you shall see how dearly I shall prize this
+precious gift.'</p>
+
+<p>And then for a moment they were both silent.</p>
+
+<p>'You will not now forbid me to speak to your father?' he
+said presently; and a shade of anxiety crept into his voice in
+spite of his intense happiness.</p>
+
+<p>The thought of that interview somewhat daunted him. It
+was surely a daring thing for a junior classical master to tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">{215}</a></span>
+his chief that he had won his daughter's affections; it was an
+ordeal that most men would have dreaded.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey seemed to read his thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope I shall never hinder you from doing your duty,' she
+said quietly, 'and, of course, you will have to speak to him;
+but'&mdash;looking at him with one of her radiant smiles&mdash;'you will
+find him quite prepared.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that you will speak to him first? Oh no;
+it is surely my prerogative to spare you this.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I do not wish to be spared,' she returned happily.
+'Cyril, I do not think you have any idea of what my father is
+to me, and I to him. Do you suppose I should sleep until I
+have told him? There has never been any secret between us.
+Even when I was a little child, I would take him all my broken
+toys to mend, and if I fell down or cut my finger&mdash;and I was
+always in mischief&mdash;it was always father who must bind it up,
+and kiss and comfort me; and, with all his hard work, he was
+never too busy to attend to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think in your place I would have gone to your mother.
+You must not be jealous, darling, if I tell you that I fell in
+love with her first.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad. Dear mother! everyone loves her. But
+when Gage and I were children, I was always the one most
+with father. I think there is no one in the world like him, and
+Michael says the same. I must write and tell Michael about
+this.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; he is like your brother. I remember you told me
+so. But, dearest, I must confess I am a little anxious about
+Dr. Ross. I am only a poor man, you know; he may refuse
+his consent.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>'Father is not like that,' she said tranquilly. 'We think
+the same on these matters; we are both of us very impulsive.
+I have some money of my own, you know&mdash;not much'&mdash;as
+Cyril's brow contracted a little&mdash;'but enough to be a real help.
+But do not let us talk about that; I have never cared for such
+things. If you had not a penny in the world you would be
+still yourself&mdash;Cyril Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey looked so charming as she said this, that the cloud
+on Cyril's brow cleared like magic.</p>
+
+<p>'And you do not think your father will be angry?'</p>
+
+<p>'Angry! Why should he be angry?' opening her eyes
+widely. 'He may be disappointed&mdash;very probably he will be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">{216}</a></span>
+so; he may think I might have done better for myself. He
+may even argue the point a little. The great blessing is that
+one is not obliged to consult one's sister in such cases; for'&mdash;looking
+at him with her old fun&mdash;'I am afraid Gage would
+refuse her consent.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I am afraid both Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt will send
+me to Coventry.'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure they will; but I suppose even Coventry will be
+bearable under some circumstances. Oh dear!' interrupting
+herself, 'do you see how dark it is growing? We have
+actually forgotten the time. I must really be going.'</p>
+
+<p>'I ought not to have kept you so long,' he returned
+remorsefully. 'There, you shall go! I will not detain you
+another moment. I think it will be better for you to go alone.
+I will stay here another half-hour; I could not speak to anyone
+just now. I must be alone and think over this wonderful
+thing that has happened.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well,' she replied. But some minutes elapsed before
+the last good-bye was said. There were things he had forgotten
+to say. More than once, as she turned away, he
+detained her with some parting request. When she had really
+gone, and the last sound of her footsteps died away, he went
+back into the dusky room, and threw himself down on the
+chair where she had sat, and abandoned himself to a delicious
+retrospect.</p>
+
+<p>'And it is true&mdash;it is not a dream!' he said to himself
+when, an hour later, he roused himself to go back to the Gray
+Cottage. 'Oh, thank God that He has given me this priceless
+gift! If I could only be worthy of her!' finished the young
+man with tender reverence, as he crossed the courtyard and let
+himself in at the green door.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross looked at her daughter rather anxiously that
+evening; she thought Audrey was rather quiet and a trifle
+subdued. Geraldine and her husband were dining at Woodcote.
+Audrey, who had forgotten they were expected, was
+rather taken aback when she saw her sister, and made her
+excuses a little hurriedly. She had been detained&mdash;all sorts
+of things had detained her. She had been to the Gray
+Cottage and the library. She had not walked far enough to
+tire herself&mdash;this being the literal fact, as not a quarter
+of a mile lay between Woodcote and the Cottage. Oh no,
+she was not the least tired, and she hoped Geraldine felt
+better.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">{217}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Much better, thank you,' returned Geraldine, with one of
+her keen glances; and then she somewhat elaborately changed
+the subject. Audrey was not subjected to any cross-examination;
+indeed, there was something significant in Mrs.
+Harcourt's entire dearth of curiosity; but all the time she was
+saying to herself: 'Audrey has been crying; her eyes are quite
+swollen, and yet she looks cheerful. What can it mean?
+What has she been doing? She has hardly had time to smooth
+her hair, it looks so rough. I wonder if Percival notices
+anything! I am sure father does, for he keeps looking at her,'
+and so on.</p>
+
+<p>It was Mr. Harcourt who was Audrey's <i>b&ecirc;te noir</i> that
+evening. He was in one of his argumentative moods, and
+could not be made to understand that his sister-in-law would
+have preferred silence. He was perpetually urging her to
+single combat, touching her up on some supposed tender point
+in the hope of getting a rally. 'I suppose Audrey, who goes
+in for women's rights so warmly, will differ from me if I say so
+and so?' or 'We must ask Audrey what she thinks of that, my
+dear; she is a great stickler for feminine prerogative;' and
+then he would point his chin, and a sort of sarcastic light would
+come into his eyes. It was positive enjoyment to him when
+Audrey rose to the bait and floundered hopelessly into an
+argument. But, on the whole, she acquitted herself ill. 'You
+are too clever for me to-night, Percival,' she said a little
+wearily, as he stood talking to her with his coffee cup in his
+hand; 'I cannot think what makes men so fond of debating
+and argument. If they can only persuade a person that black
+is white, they go home and sleep quite happily.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is such a triumph to make people see with one's own
+eyes,' he returned, as though accepting a compliment. 'Have
+you ever read the <i>Republic</i> of Plato? No! I should recommend
+it for your perusal: it is an acknowledged masterpiece;
+the reasoning is superb, and it is rich in illustrations.
+The want of women is that, with all their intelligence, they
+are so illogical. Now, if women only had the education of
+men&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Harcourt, I think Geraldine is tired, and would like you
+to take her home,' observed Dr. Ross, interrupting the stream
+of eloquence; and Mr. Harcourt, without finishing his sentence,
+went at once in search of his wife. Women might be illogical,
+but they were to be considered, for all that. With all his
+satire and love of argument, Mr. Harcourt valued his wife's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">{218}</a></span>
+comfort before his own. 'I am quite ready, dear,' he said, as
+she looked up at him with a deprecating smile; 'and I know
+your mother will excuse us.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross had walked with his daughter to the gate.
+Young Mrs. Harcourt was a woman who always exacted these
+little attentions from the menkind around her; without
+demanding them, she took them naturally as her right and
+prerogative. It would have seemed strange to her if her
+father had not offered her his arm. 'Good-bye, father dear,'
+she said, giving him her firm cool cheek to kiss; 'Percy and I
+have had such a nice evening.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross walked back to the house; then he went to his
+study and lighted his reading-lamp. There was a certain
+interesting debate in the <i>Times</i> which he wished much to read&mdash;a
+Ministerial crisis was at hand, and Dr. Ross, who was
+Conservative to the backbone, was aware that his party was
+menaced. He had just taken the paper in his hand when
+Audrey came into the room. 'Good-night, my dear,' he said,
+without looking up; but Audrey did not take the hint.</p>
+
+<p>'Daddy, I want to speak to you,' she said very quietly;
+'will you please put that paper down for a moment?' And
+then she added, 'I want to speak to you very particularly.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross heaved a sigh and lowered his paper somewhat
+reluctantly. 'Would not another time have done as well?' he
+grumbled good-humouredly; 'Harcourt has taken up all the
+evening. That is the worst of having an elderly son-in-law;
+one is bound to be civil to him; one could not tell him to hold
+his tongue, for example.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think Percival would resent such a hint,' returned
+Audrey rather absently. She had drawn a low chair close to
+her father's knee, so that she could touch him, and now she
+looked up in his face a little pleadingly.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, what is it, child?' he went on, still fingering his
+paper; 'I suppose you want help for some <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i> or other&mdash;moderation
+in all things. I warn you that I have not got
+Fortunatus's purse.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is not money I want,' she returned, so gravely that he
+began to feel uncomfortable. 'Daddy, it is something very,
+very different. This afternoon Cyril Blake spoke to me, and I&mdash;that
+is, we&mdash;are engaged.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross gave a great start and dropped the <i>Times</i> as
+though it burnt him. For a moment he did not speak.
+With all his mildness and benevolence, he was a man of strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">{219}</a></span>
+passions, though no one would have guessed it from his habitual
+self-control.</p>
+
+<p>'We are engaged,' she repeated softly, and then she stroked
+her father's hand; but he drew it rather quickly away.</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey,' he said, in a voice that she did not recognise, it
+was so stern, so full of displeasure; 'I would rather have
+heard anything than this, that a child of mine should so far
+forget herself as to engage herself to any man without her
+parents' consent.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, daddy&mdash;&mdash;' she began caressingly, but he stopped
+her.</p>
+
+<p>'It was wrong; it was what I would not have believed of
+you, Audrey; but with regard to Mr. Blake, it was altogether
+dishonourable. How dared he,' here the Doctor's eyes flashed
+through his spectacles, 'how dared he win my daughter's
+affections in this clandestine way?'</p>
+
+<p>'Father, you must not speak so of Cyril!' returned Audrey
+calmly, though she was a little pale&mdash;a little disturbed at this
+unexpected severity; 'it is not what you think: there was
+nothing clandestine or dishonourable. He did not mean to
+speak to me; it was more my fault than his. You shall hear
+all, every word from the beginning. Do you think I would
+hide anything from my father?' And here two large tears
+welled slowly from Audrey's eyes, but she wiped them away.
+Perhaps her gentleness and the sight of those tears mollified
+Dr. Ross, for when Audrey laid her clasped hands upon his
+knee he did not again repulse her. Nay, more, when she
+faltered once in telling her story, he put his hand on her head
+reassuringly.</p>
+
+<p>'Is that all you have to tell me, my dear?' and now Dr.
+Ross spoke in his old kind voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, father dear; you have heard everything now, and&mdash;and&mdash;'
+beseechingly, 'you will not be hard on us!'</p>
+
+<p>'Hard on him, I suppose you mean,' returned Dr. Ross,
+with rather a sad smile; 'a man is not likely to be hard to
+his own flesh and blood. I still think he has acted rather
+badly, but I can make allowance for him better now&mdash;he was
+sorely tempted. But now I want you to tell me something:
+are you sure that your happiness is involved in this&mdash;that it
+would really cost you too much to give him up?'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey looked at her father with some astonishment&mdash;that
+wide, clear-eyed glance conveyed reproach.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think it necessary to ask me such a question?' she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">{220}</a></span>
+said, with a little dignity; 'should I have engaged myself to
+any man without loving him?'</p>
+
+<p>'But he may have talked you into it; you may have
+mistaken your feelings,' suggested Dr. Ross; but Audrey shook
+her head.</p>
+
+<p>'I am not a child,' she said, rather proudly. 'Father,
+you have always liked Mr. Blake. You can surely have no
+objection to him personally?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but my liking did not go to the extent of wishing him
+to be my son-in-law,' he replied, with a touch of grim humour;
+'in my opinion, Audrey, Mr. Blake is far too young.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is three-and-twenty,' she pleaded; 'he is two months
+older than I am. What does age matter, father? He will
+grow older every day. I know some men are boyish at that
+age; but I think Cyril's life has matured him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Still, I would rather have entrusted you to an older man,
+and one who had in some measure made his position. Mr.
+Blake is only at the beginning of his career; it will be years
+before he achieves any sort of position. Audrey, you know me
+well enough by this time: I am not speaking of his poverty,
+though that alone should have deterred him from aspiring to
+my daughter. We think alike on these points, and I care
+nothing about a rich son-in-law; but Mr. Blake has only his
+talents and good character to recommend him. He is far too
+young; he is poor, and his family has no social standing.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, father, surely a good character is everything. How
+often I have heard you say what a high opinion his Dean had
+of him, and what an excellent character he had borne at school
+and college; and then think what a son and a brother he is&mdash;how
+unselfish, how hard-working! How could any girl be
+afraid of entrusting her future to him?'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross sighed. Audrey's mind was evidently made up.
+Why had he brought this misfortune on them all by engaging
+this fascinating young master&mdash;for he certainly looked upon it
+as a misfortune. After all, was it any wonder that Cyril Blake,
+with his perfect face and lovable disposition, had found his
+way to his daughter's heart? 'Why could he not have fallen
+in love with someone else?' he groaned to himself; for Audrey
+was the very apple of his eye, and there was no one he thought
+good enough for her, unless it were Michael. Not that such
+an idea ever really occurred to him. Michael's ill-health put
+such a thing out of the question; but Michael was his adopted
+son, and far above the average of men, in his opinion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">{221}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Father, you will remember that my happiness is involved
+in this,' Audrey said, after a little more talk had passed
+between them. 'You will be good to Cyril when he speaks to
+you to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; I will be good to him.'</p>
+
+<p>And then Audrey laid her hot cheek against him, and
+thanked him as she bid him good-night; but when she had
+gone there were no debates read that night&mdash;Dr. Ross had too
+many thoughts to occupy him as he sat alone in his empty
+study.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">{222}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>'I FELT SUCH A CULPRIT, YOU SEE'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Still, it seems to me that love&mdash;true and profound love&mdash;should be a
+source of light and calm, a religion and a revelation, in which there is no
+place left for the lower victories of vanity.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Amiel.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>It cannot be denied that Cyril Blake had rather a hard time of
+it in the Doctor's study. Dr. Ross received him kindly; but
+his kindness was a trifle iced as he shook hands with the
+young man, and then seated himself in his big easy-chair.
+He groaned inwardly: 'I am an old fool,' he thought,
+'ever to have brought him here. How confoundedly handsome
+the fellow is! if one could only honestly dislike him!'
+and then he assumed a judicial aspect as he listened to the
+culprit.</p>
+
+<p>On the whole, Cyril acquitted himself fairly; he was very
+pale, and hesitated a little over his words; but he stated his
+case with sufficient eloquence. His love for Audrey bore him
+triumphantly even through this ordeal.</p>
+
+<p>'You have reason to be angry with me,' he said with
+ingenuous frankness. 'I had no right to speak to Miss Ross
+until I had gained your permission to do so.'</p>
+
+<p>'It was certainly a grievous mistake, Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are very kind not to call it by another name; I will
+own frankly it was a mistake. I must beg you to make
+allowances for a very strong temptation. Under some circumstances
+a man is not always master of himself.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross half smiled. After all, this braw wooer was
+bearing himself with manly dignity.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope you will believe me,' continued Cyril earnestly,
+'when I say that I acted with no preconceived intention. My
+first declaration was perfectly hopeless. I expected nothing,
+asked for nothing; on the second occasion'&mdash;here he paused,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">{223}</a></span>
+and, in spite of his nervousness, a light came in his eyes&mdash;'circumstances
+forced me to speak.'</p>
+
+<p>'Circumstances can be controlled, Mr. Blake. If you had
+come to me, for example&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'It had been my intention to come to you, Dr. Ross, and to
+tender my resignation. I had made up my mind that it was
+my duty to leave this place. I had even spoken to my mother
+on the subject. "I love your daughter, and therefore it will
+not be right for me to stay." These were the very words I
+should have spoken to you, only&mdash;she&mdash;she&mdash;asked me not to
+go;' and here the young man's voice trembled.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross's magisterial aspect relaxed a little; his good
+heart, yearning only for his child's happiness, began to relent.</p>
+
+<p>'I am quite sure of your affection for Audrey, Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'You may be sure of it. There is no proof you could ask
+that would be refused by me. If I thought&mdash;that is, if you
+and she thought that this would not be for her happiness, I
+should be ready, even now, to go away.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you! I can quite believe that you mean what you
+say; but I shall not put you to so severe a proof. My child
+told me last night that her mind was made up&mdash;indeed, I
+understand that you and she are already engaged.'</p>
+
+<p>'Only with your permission, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not see how I am to withhold it when the girl tells
+me that her happiness is involved. I will speak to you plainly,
+Mr. Blake. You are certainly not in the position in which I
+should wish to see my future son-in-law. A man of your age,
+at the very beginning of his career, has no right to think of
+marrying.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril flushed.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not think of it. I must work my way before such a
+thing would be possible.'</p>
+
+<p>'You mean because you are poor. Poverty is, of course, a
+serious obstacle; but just then I was thinking more of position.
+I should hardly be willing for my daughter to marry a junior
+classical master. Her sister is in a far better position.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall hope not always to be a junior master, Dr. Ross.'</p>
+
+<p>'True; and, of course, interest can do a great deal. I must
+speak to Charrington, and see what is to be done in the future.
+Perhaps you know that Audrey has a little money of her
+own?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sorry to hear it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Their grandfather left them each five thousand pounds&mdash;as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">{224}</a></span>
+Audrey is of age, she is, of course, her own mistress. It was
+my intention to give her a couple of thousands on her marriage&mdash;Geraldine
+had it&mdash;anything else will only come to them on
+my death.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish you had not told me all this.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross smiled.</p>
+
+<p>'You are young, Blake,' he said, in his old friendly manner,
+'or you would not be so romantic as to wish Audrey were
+penniless. You will find a few thousands very serviceable by
+and by, when, in the course of time, a house falls vacant. I
+am speaking of the future, mind&mdash;for I do not mean you to
+have Audrey for at least a couple of years; we are in no hurry
+to lose her, and you must make your way a little first. Now
+I think we have talked enough for the present. I will just
+have a word with Audrey, and send her to you.' Then he held
+out his hand, and Cyril grasped it with a word or two of
+gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Audrey, seated close to her mother on the
+drawing-room couch, was pouring out the whole story. She
+told it very comfortably, with her face resting against her
+mother's shoulder, and only interrupted by a tearful inquiry at
+intervals.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Audrey! Oh, my darling child!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross,
+in a sighing sort of voice, when the girl had finished her recital.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you sorry, mother? Why do you speak in that tone?
+You know you have always liked Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my dear,' but here Mrs. Ross sighed again; 'how
+can one help liking him, when he is so lovable? But, Audrey,
+what will your sister say&mdash;and Percival?'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor dear mother! So that was the reason of that
+dolorous voice? Well, do you know,' with an engaging air of
+frankness, 'I am afraid we shall have a bad time with Gage;
+she will want me put in a strait-waistcoat and fed on a cooling
+diet of bread and water. Father will have to assure her that
+there is no insanity in the family; and as to Percival&mdash;oh,
+Percival's face, when he hears the news, will be a joke!'</p>
+
+<p>'I must say I don't see the joke, Audrey. I am really
+afraid they will both be dreadfully shocked. You must tell
+them yourself. I would not take the news to Hillside for the
+world&mdash;and just now, too, when dear Geraldine ought to be
+spared all agitation.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey did not dare laugh; her mother was far too much in
+earnest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">{225}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You must go yourself, Audrey,' she repeated; 'and I hope
+you will be very, very careful.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you think it would be better to write, mother? I am
+so sure that Gage will disapprove and say cutting things&mdash;and
+of course it will not be pleasant. If I were to write her a
+sisterly little note, just telling her the news, and saying I
+would go to her to-morrow?'</p>
+
+<p>And, after a good deal of consideration, Mrs. Ross was
+brought to own that this plan would be the best.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross was so oppressed by the fear of Geraldine's
+disapproval that she could hardly give her attention to Audrey;
+and yet her motherly heart was stirred to its foundations.
+Audrey pretended to be hurt at last.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, do not let us talk any more about Gage!' she said
+impatiently; 'we must give her time to come round. I want
+you to think about me and Cyril. "Cyril"&mdash;is it not a nice
+name? And you must be very fond of him, and treat him
+like your own son. He is to be a second Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me, Audrey! I wonder what Michael will say; he
+can never have guessed anything before he went away.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know, mother. Michael is very sharp, you know.
+It struck me once or twice that he was watching Cyril; but
+he liked him&mdash;he always liked him;' and here Audrey's voice
+was full of gladness. Michael's approval was necessary to her
+happiness: whoever else might choose to cavil at her choice,
+it must not be Michael&mdash;dear old Michael!</p>
+
+<p>'I wish he would come back,' she said softly; for she felt a
+strange sort of longing to see his kind face again. She must
+write to him; she must tell him everything, just as though he
+were her brother. 'Mother,' interrupting herself, 'I want to
+tell you something very pretty that Cyril said yesterday. I
+was talking of you and father, and he said I must not be hurt,
+but he had fallen in love with you first. He thinks you the
+sweetest woman he has ever seen.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear fellow!' murmured Mrs. Ross; for the little compliment
+pleased her.</p>
+
+<p>With all her loyalty to Geraldine's husband, there were times
+when he was a little formidable to her. Perhaps, in her secret
+heart, she felt herself too young to be the mother-in-law of a man
+of forty; and, in spite of Mr. Harcourt's real liking and respect
+for his wife's mother, he had never been guided by her. It
+had not been with him, as with younger men, to say, 'Your
+mother thinks so-and-so should be done.' Indeed, if the truth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">{226}</a></span>
+be told, Geraldine very rarely quoted her mother's opinions&mdash;she
+was so certain that Percival would contradict them.</p>
+
+<p>'We are surely able to make up our own minds without
+consulting your parents, my dear,' he would say, in rather a
+crushing tone; for prosperity had fed his self-confidence, and
+it needed the discipline of trouble to teach him humility.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Dr. Ross entered the room, and at the first
+sight of his face Audrey sprang up, and he opened his arms to
+receive her.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, daddy, is it all right?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it is as far right as it can be,' he replied, in rather
+an inexplicable voice. 'Emmie, my dear, this girl of ours has
+taken the bit between her teeth. Geraldine never gave us this
+trouble. She fell in love with the right man at the right time,
+and everything was arranged properly.'</p>
+
+<p>'And now the right man has fallen in love with me,'
+whispered Audrey in her father's ear.</p>
+
+<p>'But you have given your consent, John?' returned his wife,
+in a pleading tone. In spite of her fears about Geraldine, her
+sympathies were by this time enlisted on the side of the lovers.
+'Of course, Mr. Blake is a poor man; but I daresay Dr.
+Charrington will push him when he knows how things are; and
+he is so nice and pleasant and clever, and dear Audrey really
+loves him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you sure of that?' trying to catch a glimpse of his
+daughter's face. 'Girls make mistakes sometimes.' And then,
+as a faint protest reached him: 'Well, you will find the fellow
+in my study, if you want to talk to him. Perhaps you had
+better bring him in to see your mother.'</p>
+
+<p>And Audrey withdrew, blushing like a rose.</p>
+
+<p>'She is very fond of him, John,' observed Mrs. Ross, with a
+trace of anxiety in her tone, as though her husband's manner
+did not quite satisfy her. 'She has been talking to me for the
+last hour. Audrey never cared for anyone before. You
+remember young Silverdale and Fred Langton&mdash;they were both
+in love with her, and would have spoken if she had given them
+the chance; but she was as distant as possible.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and Fred Langton has fifteen hundred a year, and
+his father is a Member of Parliament. He is a nice fellow, too&mdash;only
+a little too stout for so young a man; but he is not the
+sort Audrey would fancy. Blake is a good fellow, and I liked
+him from the first,' continued the Doctor, in a musing tone;
+'but I never should have picked him out for Audrey.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">{227}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps you think him too young?' hazarded his wife.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I should have liked her to have married an older
+man. They are too much of an age, and Audrey, with all her
+good-nature, has a will of her own. Blake is by no means a
+weak man; on the contrary, I should say he is strong; but he
+will have to give in to her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I hope not!' for Mrs. Ross held the old-fashioned
+doctrines of wifely submission and obedience.</p>
+
+<p>'They will not find it out for a little; but, if I am not
+mistaken, Blake will discover in time that he is somewhat
+handicapped. The girl has too much on her side: there is
+her position, her little bit of money, and her equality as regards
+age. Blake will have to steer his way prudently, or he will
+find himself among shoals.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross looked distressed; her husband's opinion was
+infallible to her. It never occurred to her that he might be
+occasionally wrong in his premises.</p>
+
+<p>'Percival and Geraldine will be dreadfully shocked,' she
+replied. 'I quite dread the effect on Geraldine.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Ross's mood changed.</p>
+
+<p>'It is no business of hers, or of Harcourt's either,' he said,
+rather sharply. 'If Audrey has her parents' consent, she
+need not trouble herself about other people's opinions.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Ross knew that, whatever stormy discussion
+might be in store for her, she must not expect her husband to
+come to her assistance. He had more than once hinted that
+his son-in-law took rather too much upon himself, and on
+one occasion he had gone so far as to say that it was a pity
+Geraldine had married a man so much older than herself.</p>
+
+<p>'Harcourt is a clever fellow, but he plays the autocrat
+rather too much. A man has a right to be master in his own
+house, but Woodcote is not Hillside.' And this speech had
+alarmed Mrs. Ross dreadfully.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish your father cared for Percival as much as he does
+for Michael,' she said once a little plaintively to Audrey.
+'Nothing Michael says or does is ever wrong in his eyes.'</p>
+
+<p>'But there could not be two Michaels, mother,' returned
+Audrey; 'and really, Percival does lay down the law far
+too much. I don't wonder father was a little put out, for of
+course he is the older man.'</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, the lovers were enjoying themselves after their
+own fashion. When Audrey entered the study, Cyril was
+standing in the bay-window with his back towards the door;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">{228}</a></span>
+but at the sound of her footstep he turned round quickly and
+crossed the room. As he took her hands he looked at her for
+a moment without speaking, and she saw at once that he was
+deeply moved. Then he put his arm round her very gently
+and kissed her. Somehow that silent caress touched Audrey,
+it was so much more eloquent than words; and when he did
+speak, his speech was very grateful to her ears.</p>
+
+<p>'Your father has been so good to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know. I told you yesterday how good he would be.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, but I had a rather bad time of it at first,' he replied,
+shaking his head. 'Do you see that chair?' pointing to the
+high-backed oaken chair that always occupied the corner by
+the writing-table. 'Dr. Ross sat there, and I stood leaning
+against the mantelpiece, just opposite to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that father did not ask you to sit down?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no; he more than once pressed me to take a seat; but
+I felt it would be unbecoming for a culprit not to stand before
+his judge. I felt such a culprit, you see. When a man steals
+another man's dearest possession without asking his leave, he
+must regard himself as a sort of traitor.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey smiled; but as Cyril drew her gently down beside
+him on the wide cushioned window-seat, she made a faint
+protest.</p>
+
+<p>'I think mother will be looking for us,' she said a little
+shyly.</p>
+
+<p>'But not just now,' he pleaded. 'You will stay with me
+for a few minutes, will you not, darling? I could not talk to
+you before your mother, and I want to tell you what Dr. Ross
+said. In spite of my presumption, he has treated me most
+generously; but, Audrey,' half whispering her name, as though
+it thrilled him to say it, 'he says that he will not spare you to
+me for at least two years.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no, of course not; I could not leave father and mother
+for a long, long time,' returned Audrey, somewhat troubled by
+this allusion to her marriage. It was one thing to be engaged
+and to make Cyril happy, but to be married was a far more
+serious consideration. 'If I had been asked, I should have
+said at least three years,' she added quickly.</p>
+
+<p>For one instant the young lover felt himself wounded,
+but his good sense enabled him to hide this from her.</p>
+
+<p>'You are right, dearest,' he said quietly. 'It would be
+mere selfishness for me to wish to take you away from this
+beautiful home until I have made one that shall in some degree<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">{229}</a></span>
+be fitting for you. You will not expect a grand one; you
+know you have linked your lot to a poor man.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I know it,' she replied calmly; 'you need not
+trouble about that, Cyril. I think I am different from other
+girls: I have never cared for wealth or luxury in the least.
+Woodcote is my home, and I love every stone of it; but I
+could be just as happy in a cottage.'</p>
+
+<p>'If it were like the Gray Cottage, for example?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I have always been fond of the Gray Cottage!' she
+returned, smiling at him; and the look of those sweet gray
+eyes made the young man's pulses beat faster. 'I should be
+perfectly satisfied with a home like that. Why,' as he interrupted
+her with a rapturous expression of gratitude, 'did you
+think I should be hard to please? I am not a fine lady, like
+Geraldine!'</p>
+
+<p>'You are the finest lady in the world to me!' was Cyril's
+answer. It took all his self-control to sit there, just holding
+her hand and listening to her. He felt as though in his joy
+he could have been guilty of any extravagance&mdash;as though he
+ought to be kneeling before her, his lady of delight, pouring
+out his very soul in a tumultuous, incoherent stream of words.
+But it spoke well for his knowledge of Audrey's character that
+he restrained himself so utterly: any such passionate love-making
+would have disturbed her serenity and destroyed her
+ease in his society; her inborn love of freedom, and a certain
+coyness that was natural to her, would have revolted against
+such wooing. Cyril had his reward for his unselfish forbearance
+when he saw how quietly she rested against his arm, how
+willingly she left her hand in his, as she talked to him in her
+frank, guileless way.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose your mother is pleased about this?' she said
+presently.</p>
+
+<p>'You would have said so if you had heard us talking last
+night, until one o'clock in the morning! You have made
+more than one person happy, dear; my mother will be your
+debtor for life.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder she is not a little jealous of me,' returned Audrey.
+'She has had you so long to herself, I should think she would
+find me a little in her way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no! she is too grateful to you for making me happy.
+My darling, it would cause me utter misery if you and my
+mother did not get on. I have been her one thought all these
+years; it is not right, of course,' as Audrey's eyes expressed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">{230}</a></span>
+disapproval at this. 'I have had more than my fair share;
+but I am only stating facts from her point of view. If you
+had refused me&mdash;if we had gone away&mdash;she would have broken
+her heart; as it is, she is ready to worship you for your goodness
+to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must take me to her by and by,' returned Audrey
+gently; 'but now, Cyril, indeed we must go to my mother;'
+and this time he made no objection.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross welcomed him very nicely.</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey tells me that I am to have another son,' she said
+softly, as she held out her hand to him.</p>
+
+<p>'If you will only let me be one,' he returned gratefully, as
+he carried the soft motherly hand to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey might be forgiven if she regarded Cyril's behaviour
+as perfect. As for Mrs. Ross, the tears started to her eyes at
+that act of reverential homage. She told Audrey afterwards
+that she felt as though she could have kissed him.</p>
+
+<p>'What a pity you did not! I think Cyril would have liked
+it,' was Audrey's quiet answer.</p>
+
+<p>She heard her mother inviting him to dinner as she turned
+to the tea-table, for the afternoon was nearly over. 'We shall
+be just by ourselves, Mr. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will you call me Cyril now?' he asked in almost a whisper,
+and a blush came to Mrs. Ross's comely face.</p>
+
+<p>'I will try and remember,' she said, in the kindest possible
+voice; and then he joined Audrey at the tea-table, and made
+himself very busy in waiting on them both, and they were soon
+as easy and comfortable as possible.</p>
+
+<p>'Would you like my mother to come and see you to-morrow?'
+he asked presently, when lamps had been brought in
+and the October twilight had been excluded; 'that will be the
+correct thing, will it not, Mrs. Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose so,' she assented; but Audrey, with her usual
+impulsiveness, interrupted her:</p>
+
+<p>'Why should you not take me across now?' she said; 'I
+think it is so stupid thinking about etiquette. Your mother is
+older than I, and it is for me to go to her.' Audrey spoke
+with decision, and Cyril looked enchanted.</p>
+
+<p>'I did not like to propose it,' he said delightedly; 'will you
+really come? May I take her, Mrs. Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey did not wait for her mother's permission. She
+left the room, and returned presently in her hat and jacket.</p>
+
+<p>'I am quite ready,' she said, speaking from the threshold;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">{231}</a></span>
+but she smiled as she said the words. Was she interrupting
+an interesting conversation? Cyril was on the couch beside
+her mother, and he was talking eagerly. Perhaps, though
+Audrey did not know it, he was making up for his previous
+self-restraint by pouring out some of his pent-up feelings.</p>
+
+<p>'You understand?' he said as he stood up, and Mrs. Ross
+beamed at him in answer.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you two having confidences already?' observed Audrey
+happily, as she looked on at this little scene; and Cyril
+laughed as he followed her into the hall.</p>
+
+<p>'She is the sweetest woman in the world but one,' he said,
+as they went out together into the soft damp air; and Audrey,
+perhaps in gratitude for these words, took his arm unasked as
+she walked with him through the dark village street.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">{232}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. HARCOURT SPEAKS HIS MIND</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'It is idle to <i>talk</i> a young woman in love out of her passion. Love
+does not lie in the ear.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Horace Walpole.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake was expecting them&mdash;had been expecting them
+for hours; Audrey could see that in a moment. The October
+evenings were chilly, and most people in Rutherford lighted a
+fire at sundown; so a clear little fire burnt in the drawing-room
+grate, and Mrs. Blake's favourite lamp with the pink
+shade cast a rosy glow over the little tea-table. The cups
+were ranged in due order, and some hot cakes were on the
+brass trivet, but the little tea-maker was not at her usual post.
+Only Mrs. Blake was standing alone in the middle of the room,
+and as Cyril led Audrey to her she threw her arms round the
+girl with almost hysterical violence. 'Oh, my dear, dear,
+dearest girl!' she exclaimed, pressing her with convulsive
+force; and Audrey felt a little embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p>'I thought you would be looking for us,' she said, releasing
+herself gently; 'I asked Cyril to bring me&mdash;it seemed the
+right thing.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, dear, it was not the right thing,' returned Mrs. Blake,
+almost solemnly; 'it was for me to come to you. But all the
+same, I knew Cyril would bring you; my boy would remember
+his mother even in his happiness.'</p>
+
+<p>'It was not my thought,' began Cyril; but a very sweet
+look from Audrey checked him.</p>
+
+<p>'What does it matter whose thought it was?' she said, in
+her direct way; 'if I asked him to bring me, it was because I
+knew it was what he wished, though he did not like to ask
+me. Dear Mrs. Blake, was it likely that I should stay away
+when we have always been such friends?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">{233}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For a moment Mrs. Blake seemed unable to answer. Some
+curious emotion impeded her utterance. She turned very pale
+and trembled visibly.</p>
+
+<p>'And we shall be better friends than ever now,' continued
+Audrey, taking her hand, for she felt very tender towards the
+beautiful woman who was Cyril's mother.</p>
+
+<p>'I trust so,' returned Mrs. Blake in a low voice; but there
+was a melancholy gleam in her large dark eyes. Then, with
+an effort to recover her usual manner: 'Audrey, I hope you
+have forgiven me for troubling you so yesterday. You must
+not expect me to say I am sorry, or that I repent a word
+that I said then; but all the same, I was rather hard on you.'</p>
+
+<p>'You certainly made me very wretched.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I felt I was very cruel; but one cannot measure one's
+words at such a moment. I felt as though my children and I
+were being driven out of our paradise.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you thought it was my fault?' but Audrey blushed a
+little as she asked the question.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, hush!' and Mrs. Blake glanced at her son with pretended
+alarm; 'do you know that in spite of all I had done
+for him, that ungrateful boy actually presumed to lecture me.
+He would have it that I had been cruel to you, and that no
+one but a woman would have taken such a mean advantage;
+but all the time he looked so happy that I forgave him.
+"All's well that ends well." That is what I told him.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril shook his head. Even in his happiness he had been
+unable to refrain from uttering his disapproval of his mother's
+tactics. His nature was almost as simple and transparent as
+Audrey's. It hurt him to remember how his mother had
+appealed to this girl's sense of compassion.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not let us talk any more of it,' he said quickly. 'I
+think Audrey has a great deal to forgive; but you and I,
+mother, know her generosity.'</p>
+
+<p>And the look that accompanied these words left Audrey
+silent for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'Where is Mollie?' she exclaimed presently, when, after a
+little more conversation, Mrs. Blake insisted that she must
+have just one cup of tea. In vain Audrey protested that they
+had had tea already at Woodcote, that in another hour or so
+they would have to dine. Mrs. Blake could not be induced to
+let them off.</p>
+
+<p>'Where is Mollie?' she continued; 'may I go and look for
+her, Mrs. Blake?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">{234}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But before Mrs. Blake could answer, Audrey had exchanged
+a glance with Cyril and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>She found Mollie in the dining-room; she was pacing up
+and down the room with a small black kitten in her arms,
+but the moment Audrey appeared the kitten was discarded,
+and flung upon four trembling, sprawling legs, and Mollie
+sprang towards her, almost overwhelming her with her girlish
+vehemence.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Miss Ross, my dear Miss Ross! is it really true?
+Cyril said so this morning, but I could not believe him; I
+must hear it from your own lips.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean, is it true that I hope one day to become
+your sister? Of course it is true, dear Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I am so glad! I am more than glad; I have been
+crying with joy half the day. But is he good enough for you,
+Miss Ross?' gazing at her idol with intense anxiety. 'I am
+very fond of Cyril&mdash;Kester and I think there is no one like
+him&mdash;but it does not seem as though anyone were quite good
+enough for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Mollie, what nonsense! but I am not going to believe
+you; and what do you mean by calling me Miss Ross, you
+silly child? Don't I tell you we are going to be sisters?'</p>
+
+<p>Mollie, who had been rubbing her cheeks against her friend
+in a fondling, kittenish sort of way, started back in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'But I could not call you anything else,' she returned, becoming
+crimson with shyness. 'You will always be Miss Ross
+to me&mdash;my Miss Ross, you know; I could not think of you
+as anyone else. It would be such a liberty to call you by
+your Christian name.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, never mind; it will come naturally by and by,' returned
+Audrey tranquilly. 'I shall know you are fond of me,
+whatever you choose to call me; so you and Kester can do as
+you like.'</p>
+
+<p>'May I write and tell him?' pleaded Mollie. 'Oh, dear
+Miss Ross, do let me!'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey was not inclined to give permission; she
+explained to Mollie that she meant to write herself to Captain
+Burnett, and that she thought Cyril would send Kester a note.</p>
+
+<p>'Better leave it to him,' she suggested; 'you can write
+to him afterwards;' and as usual Mollie was docile.</p>
+
+<p>They went upstairs after this, Mollie picking up the kitten
+on the way. Cyril sprang to the door as he heard their footsteps.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">{235}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Have we been long?' Audrey asked, turning to him with
+a smile.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril hardly knew what he answered. For a moment a
+sense of giddiness came over him, as though he were suddenly
+dazzled. 'Could it be really true?' he asked himself more
+than once. Audrey did not seem to guess his feelings: she
+was perfectly tranquil and at her ease; she had laid aside her
+hat and jacket to please Mrs. Blake, and as she sat there
+sipping her tea and talking softly to them all, she looked so
+fair and girlish in her lover's sight, that the infatuated young
+man could not remove his eyes from her.</p>
+
+<p>And yet Audrey was only in the old dark-red cashmere that
+was Geraldine's pet aversion; but her brown hair had golden
+gleams in it, and the gray eyes were very bright and soft, and
+perhaps with that changing colour Audrey did look pretty; for
+youth and love are great beautifiers even of homely features.
+Audrey was sorry when Cyril reminded her that it was time
+to go. She was loath to leave that little drawing-room, so
+bright with lamplight and firelight. She went home and
+dressed for dinner in her white gown, feeling as though she
+were in some placid dream.</p>
+
+<p>The rest of the evening passed very tranquilly. Dr. Ross
+asked for some music; he was not in the mood for conversation,
+so Audrey sang to them all her favourite songs, while Cyril
+stood beside her and turned over the leaves. Now and then
+they could exchange a word or two.</p>
+
+<p>And just at the last she must needs sing 'Widow Miller,'
+and as usual Dr. Ross softly beat time and crooned an accompaniment:</p>
+
+<table summary="poem">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'The sang o' the lark finds the widow asteer,</div>
+<div class="verse">The birr o' her wheel starts the night's dreamy ear,</div>
+<div class="verse">The tears o'er the tow-tap will whiles fa' like rain,</div>
+<div class="verse">Yet there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain.'</div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>'What a sad song, my darling! I should like to hear something
+more cheerful,' whispered Cyril, as she finished.</p>
+
+<p>But she did not seem to hear him; she rose from her seat
+and crossed the room to the corner where Dr. Ross was sitting.</p>
+
+<p>'That is your favourite song, daddy,' she said, leaning over
+him.</p>
+
+<p>And as he smiled and nodded, she sat down on the low
+chair beside him and looked thoughtfully into the fire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">{236}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She roused herself presently to bid Cyril good-bye, and to
+linger a moment with him at the door in the starlight.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall not see you until luncheon to-morrow, unless you
+pass the window,' he said, with the egotism common to lovers.
+'You will think of me until then, will you not, dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I shall think of you,' returned Audrey, with her
+usual gentleness.</p>
+
+<p>But she seemed to wonder a little at the sudden passion with
+which Cyril clasped her to him.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-night, Cyril dear. I shall be very busy all the
+morning writing letters; but we can have the walk you
+propose after four.'</p>
+
+<p>And then she went back to her seat and leant her cheek
+against her father's arm, as she looked into the fire again.</p>
+
+<p>'A penny for your thoughts, my child,' observed Dr. Ross,
+when they had both been silent for a long time; 'though I
+suppose I need not ask.'</p>
+
+<p>'I was thinking of Michael,' she returned guiltily. 'Dear
+old Michael! how I wish he could be happy, too!' And then
+she bade them both good-night and went up to her room, and,
+strange to say, her last thought before she fell asleep was to
+wonder what Michael would say.</p>
+
+<p>The boys marvelled more than once the following morning
+at their master's evident abstraction. In spite of his efforts to
+fix his attention on Greek verbs and exercises, Cyril's eyes
+would turn perpetually to the window; but no slight girlish
+figure in dark-red cashmere appeared on the terrace to gather
+the yellow and white and violet chrysanthemums that bloomed
+in the borders.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was in her own private sanctum, and had given
+orders that no one should disturb her. Even Mollie was to be
+sent away. She had very important business on her hands.
+There was her letter to Geraldine, and a very difficult one it
+was to write&mdash;so difficult, that more than once Audrey thought
+that she would put on her hat and go up to Hillside instead;
+but she remembered that Gage was expecting visitors to
+luncheon. They would probably come early, and drive away
+before dusk; her letter must not be delivered before then. So
+she addressed herself again to her task.</p>
+
+<p>After all, it was a very sweet, womanly letter, and might
+have touched any sister's heart.</p>
+
+<p>'If you cannot conscientiously approve, you can at least
+wish me joy in the life I have chosen for myself,' she wrote.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">{237}</a></span>
+'I have accepted Mr. Blake of my own free will, because I
+think he is worthy of my affection. You do not know him
+yet; but he is so good&mdash;so good: sometimes I think even
+Michael is not more to be trusted.' And so on.</p>
+
+<p>But, after all, it was far easier to write to Michael. Audrey
+had no need to pick her words or arrange her ideas with him.
+She could tell him everything as frankly as though he were her
+brother. There need be no limit to her confidence; Michael
+would never misunderstand her.</p>
+
+<p>'The one drawback is that you are still away,' she finished
+affectionately. 'I shall not feel things are perfect until we
+have had one of our long talks on "Michael's bench." When
+are you coming home? It will soon be November, and the
+trees will be stripped of their leaves. Why do you trouble
+yourself about another man's business? No one wants you
+more than your devoted cousin and friend&mdash;<span class="smcap">Audrey Ross.</span>'</p>
+
+<p>And when this letter was in the post, and the note for
+Geraldine lying on the marble slab in the hall, she felt a sense
+of relief, and had leisure to think of Cyril.</p>
+
+<p>They had their walk together after afternoon school, but it
+soon grew dusk, and Audrey suggested that, as her mother was
+alone, they should go back to Woodcote to tea. There was no
+invitation to dinner that night, but Cyril did not expect it&mdash;he
+had his dormitory work; and as Audrey promised to see him
+before he went away for the night, he was quite content.</p>
+
+<p>'You must not think that I mean to bore Mrs. Ross with
+intruding myself on all occasions,' he said. 'I know you will
+tell me when I may come. I mean to be guided entirely by
+you. Under these circumstances a man is tempted to be
+selfish.'</p>
+
+<p>'You will never be selfish,' she said, with one of her charming
+smiles. 'I could never have promised to marry a selfish
+man. But, Cyril, you will be guided by me in that other
+thing?' changing her tone, and looking at him very seriously;
+for they had had rather a hot argument.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril was going to Peterborough the next day to buy the
+betrothal ring, and Audrey had petitioned for a gold one.</p>
+
+<p>'But it will only look like a wedding-guard,' he had remonstrated;
+for he would rather have denied himself everything
+for six months, if only he could buy something fit for her
+acceptance&mdash;a pearl or sapphire ring, for example. Diamonds
+were beyond his means.</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey could not be induced to say that she liked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">{238}</a></span>
+pearls; on the contrary, she manifested an extraordinary
+preference for the idea of a broad chased gold band, with her
+own and Cyril's initials inside.</p>
+
+<p>'I am going to marry a poor man,' she said decidedly, 'and
+he must not waste his money on me. What does it matter if
+it look like a guard? It can serve that purpose afterwards.
+Please do not look so disappointed, Cyril. When you can
+afford it, you shall give me any ring you like&mdash;pearl or diamond;
+but I like diamonds best.' And she was so evidently in earnest
+that he had to yield to her; and Audrey wore her gold ring
+with immense satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey spent her evening quietly with her parents. She
+and Dr. Ross played chess together, and when he went off to
+his study she stayed and talked to her mother.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross was not a lively companion that evening. The
+fear of Geraldine's disapproval was quickening her latent feelings
+of uneasiness into activity, and she could not keep these feelings
+to herself.</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder if Geraldine will answer your letter this evening,
+Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think so, mother dear. I am to go there to-morrow,
+you see, so there will be no need for her to write.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid that she will be hurt because you have not
+gone to her to-day; she will think it rather odd for you to
+write.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, mother,' opening her eyes rather widely at this,
+'don't you remember Mr. and Mrs. Bland were to lunch there?
+How could Gage have given me her attention? And then,
+with guests to entertain, it would never have done to run the
+risk of upsetting her. Percival would have glared at us all
+through luncheon if he had noticed her eyes were red. You
+know how easily Gage cries.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you tell her this in your letter?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think I implied it, but I am not sure.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, well, we must wait until to-morrow,' with a sigh;
+'but I cannot deny I am very anxious. You will go up to
+Hillside directly after breakfast, will you not, my dear? And
+do beg Geraldine to come back with you. I feel I shall not
+have a moment's peace until I have seen her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor dear mother!' observed Audrey caressingly; for
+there was a look of care on Mrs. Ross's brow.</p>
+
+<p>But though Audrey cheered up her mother, and made her
+little jokes, she was quite aware of the ordeal that was before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">{239}</a></span>
+her, and it was with some undefined idea of propitiating her
+sister that she laid aside the red cashmere the next morning
+and put on a certain gray gown which Gage especially admired.
+It had a hat to match, with a gray wing, and Geraldine always
+looked at her approvingly when she came to Hillside in the
+gray gown. She was on the terrace, picking two or three
+yellow chrysanthemums, when she saw her brother-in-law
+coming towards her. A visit from him at this hour was a
+most unusual proceeding, and Audrey at once guessed that his
+business was with her. The idea of any interference from her
+brother-in-law was decidedly unpalatable; nevertheless, she
+awaited him smilingly. Mr. Harcourt was a man who walked
+well. He had a fine carriage of the head, though some people
+said he held himself a little too erect, and too much with the
+air of a man who recognises his own superiority; but, as
+Audrey watched him as he walked up the terrace, she thought
+he had never held his head so proudly before.</p>
+
+<p>'You are a very early visitor this morning, Percival,' she
+observed, as she arranged the chrysanthemums in her gray
+dress; and she looked up at him pleasantly as she shook hands
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>But there was no answering smile on Mr. Harcourt's face.</p>
+
+<p>'It is a very unusual business that brings me,' he replied
+rather solemnly. 'Is there anyone in the drawing-room,
+Audrey? I should like to speak to you quietly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Susan is in there, dusting the ornaments, but I can easily
+send her away,' rejoined Audrey cheerfully. 'Mother is in the
+study.' And then she led the way to the drawing-room, and
+gave Susan a hint to withdraw.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt waited until the door was shut, then he put
+down his hat and faced round on his sister-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>'This is a very sad business,' he said, still with the same
+portentous air of solemnity. 'I am sorry to say your sister is
+dreadfully upset.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I hope not,' returned Audrey quickly.</p>
+
+<p>'I have never seen her more upset about anything. She
+hardly slept at all last night, and I was half afraid I should
+have to send for Dr. Musgrave this morning: she was not quite
+strong enough to bear such a shock.'</p>
+
+<p>'Gage is so sensitive, you see.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is not more sensitive than other people,' feeling himself
+bound to defend his wife's nerves. 'I am not in the least
+surprised to find how much she has taken it to heart. I think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">{240}</a></span>
+she feels very properly about it. We are both as disappointed
+as possible&mdash;we hoped better things of you, Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is not that a little severe?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think not. I am bound to tell you the truth plainly,
+that Geraldine and I strongly disapprove of this engagement.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so sorry,' returned Audrey, with provoking good-humour;
+'but you see, Percival, one must be guided by one's
+own feelings in such a personal matter; and I hope when you
+and Gage know Mr. Blake a little better that you will alter
+your opinion.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid I must differ from you there, even at the risk
+of displeasing you. I must say that I think Mr. Blake is the
+last man to make you happy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, what reason can you have for making such a sweeping
+assertion?' asked Audrey, waxing a little warm at this. Percival
+had no right to stand there lecturing her after this fashion; it
+was not in a brother-in-law's province to interfere with her
+choice of a lover. If her parents had given their sanction to
+her engagement, and allowed her to throw herself away on a
+poor man, it was surely no one else's business to say a dissenting
+word. Percival might go home and lecture his own wife if he
+liked. 'It is a pity you and Gage are so worldly,' she said, in
+what was meant to be a withering tone. Audrey had never
+been so near quarrelling with her brother-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>'Worldly?' he repeated, in rather a perplexed tone. 'My
+dear girl, I confess I do not understand you.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is very easy to understand,' she returned coldly. 'You
+and Gage object to Mr. Blake because he is poor and has not
+made his position; you think I am throwing myself away,
+because I have engaged myself to a junior classical master who
+has to work his way up.'</p>
+
+<p>'Just so,' observed Mr. Harcourt; 'that is exactly what we
+do think.'</p>
+
+<p>'And yet you are surprised because I call you worldly. If
+you only knew how differently father and I think! Perhaps
+he is disappointed too&mdash;indeed, I know that he is; he wanted
+me to marry an older man&mdash;but, all the same, he agrees with
+me, that a man so honourable and clever, one who has borne so
+high a character, who is so good a son and brother, would be
+likely to make a woman happy.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt shrugged his shoulders. They were arguing
+from different points. Audrey was not likely to convince him:
+he had started with a preconceived dislike to the whole business.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">{241}</a></span>
+He now proceeded to pull Audrey's impulsive speech to
+pieces.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not deny that Blake is a good fellow, and he is clever,
+too; but in marrying him you will be descending in the social
+scale. Who are the Blakes? No one knows anything about
+them&mdash;Edith always declared the father was a City man&mdash;but
+we do know that his mother is distinctly objectionable!'</p>
+
+<p>'Excuse me, Percival, but you are speaking of a close friend.
+Even if she were not Cyril's mother, my friendship for her
+should prevent you from speaking against her in my presence.'</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt groaned as he heard the word 'Cyril,' but he
+felt at the same time that he had gone too far: his quick
+temper had carried him away. He hastened to apologise.</p>
+
+<p>'You must forgive me, Audrey, if I speak a little too
+plainly. But this is such a bitter disappointment to me, my
+very affection for you makes me object all the more strongly
+to this engagement. As Geraldine said to me last night, she
+has only one sister&mdash;and this makes it all the harder for her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I understand; and I am very sorry to disappoint you
+both. But, Percival, the thing is done now, and I want you
+and Gage to make the best of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will you not reconsider your decision?' he asked, and there
+was softness and real affection in his look. 'Perhaps, after all,
+you may have mistaken your feelings; a girl is sometimes
+talked into a thing.'</p>
+
+<p>But she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>'I have not mistaken them,' she said quietly. 'Don't say
+any more, Percival; I have no wish to quarrel; and, of course,
+I am a little sore about this.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Harcourt felt that his mission had been unsuccessful;
+the girl was contumacious, and would listen to no one.</p>
+
+<p>'It's all Dr. Ross's fault,' he said to himself, as he took up
+his hat and prepared to walk with her to Hillside. 'If he had
+refused his consent she would have given the thing up; but in
+worldly matters my respected father-in-law is a mere child.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">{242}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>HOW GERALDINE TOOK IT TO HEART</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'This world is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who
+feel.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Horace Walpole.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>It may be doubted if either Audrey or her brother-in-law
+enjoyed their walk to Hillside. Mr. Harcourt felt that he had
+failed signally in his brotherly mission, and any sort of failure
+was intolerable to him. To do him justice, he was thinking
+only of Audrey's future welfare. As he took up the wide
+clerical-looking hat that he affected, and walked with her down
+the terrace, he told himself sorrowfully that he might as well
+have held his tongue; but, all the same, he could not refrain
+from speaking another word or two.</p>
+
+<p>'I do so wish I could make you see this thing as your
+friends will see it!' he said, no longer laying down the law,
+but speaking in a tone of mild insistence, as became a man
+who knew himself to be right. 'They may not be so closely
+interested in the matter, but perhaps their view may be less
+prejudiced. Think, my dear girl, what a serious, what a
+terrible thing it would be if you were to discover too late that
+you had made a mistake!'</p>
+
+<p>'I should never own it to be one,' she said, trying to smile;
+but it could not be denied that she found her brother-in-law a
+little depressing; 'and you may be quite sure that I should
+abide by it. There is a fund of obstinacy in my nature that no
+one seems to have discovered but myself.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Harcourt gave vent to an impatient sigh. He
+must leave her to Geraldine, he thought; but even then he
+could not forbear from one Parthian thrust.</p>
+
+<p>'You will live to repent it,' he said very seriously, 'and then
+you will remember my warning. You must not look to me to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">{243}</a></span>
+help you out of your difficulties then, Audrey; I would have
+done anything for you now.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will promise you that I will not ask for your help,' she
+returned, so promptly that he looked quite hurt. And she
+hastened to soften her words. 'If one makes a mistake of
+that kind, one must only look to one's self.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have always regarded your interests as identical with
+Edith's,' he returned a little stiffly. 'I mean, I have always
+treated you as though you were my own sister; but, of course,
+if you cannot rely on me as your brother&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey would not let him finish his sentence.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Percival,' she said gently, 'I do believe you are
+quarrelling with me, just because I am taking you at your
+word. Are you not just a little illogical for once? In one
+breath you tell me not to look to you for help, and then you
+reproach me with unsisterly feelings. How are we to understand
+each other at this rate?'</p>
+
+<p>Then a faint smile played round Mr. Harcourt's mouth. It
+was true that, in the heat of argument, he did not always
+measure his words; even Geraldine had ventured to tell him so
+once.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well, we will say no more about it,' he returned
+somewhat magnanimously; and though he could not pluck up
+spirit to turn the conversation into another channel, he refrained
+from any more depressing remarks. He gave her a friendly
+nod and smile as they parted in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>'You will find Geraldine in the morning-room,' he said;
+and Audrey was much relieved that he did not offer to accompany
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt evidently regarded herself as an invalid that
+morning. She was sitting in the corner of the big couch, in
+her pale-pink tea-gown. She rose at her sister's entrance,
+however, and crossed the room with languid steps.</p>
+
+<p>'Did Percival bring you?' she asked, as she kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt as though she were to blame when she saw
+Geraldine's heavy eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid you are far from well, Gage,' she said a little
+anxiously, for, after all, Geraldine was her only sister, and if
+things should go wrong with her&mdash;&mdash;. She felt a momentary
+compunction&mdash;one of those keen, pin-like pricks of conscience&mdash;as
+she remembered how often she had been vexed with her
+little ways.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harcourt looked at her mournfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">{244}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'How can I be well?' she said, with reproachful sweetness
+in her voice. 'I do not think I had three hours' sleep last
+night. Percival got quite concerned about me at last. Oh,
+Audrey, you have made me so very unhappy!' and her eyes
+filled with tears.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Gage, I would not willingly make you unhappy
+for worlds!'</p>
+
+<p>'But, all the same, it has been such a shock&mdash;such a cruel
+disappointment to us both! Percival was nearly as upset
+about it as I was. If you could have seen him walking up
+and down the room last night! "She must be mad to throw
+herself away in this fashion!"&mdash;he would say nothing else for
+a long time.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am quite aware of Percival's sentiments,' returned Audrey
+coldly.</p>
+
+<p>Her manner alarmed Geraldine. 'But you have not
+quarrelled with him for telling you the truth?' she asked with
+unmistakable anxiety. 'Oh, Audrey, you do not know how
+fond Percival is of you! He is as proud of you as though you
+were his own sister. He has always looked forward to your
+marriage. He used to say none of the men he knew were half
+good enough for you; that you ought to have someone who
+would be in every way your superior, and to whom you could
+look up.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and it is such a blessing that I can look up to Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'But he is so young; and though he is nice&mdash;yes, of course,
+he is very nice and good-looking and clever&mdash;still one wants
+more in a husband. Somehow I never realised these things
+until I was actually standing at the altar with Percival and
+said those solemn words for myself: "For better for worse, for
+richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death us do
+part." I felt then that if I had not been so sure of Percival I
+would rather have died than have said those words.'</p>
+
+<p>A faint shiver passed over Audrey as Geraldine spoke. She
+had never heard her talk in this way before. 'Dear, dear
+Audrey,' she continued, taking her sister's hand; 'can you
+wonder that I am anxious that you should be as happy as I
+am, that it nearly breaks my heart to know that you are
+taking this false step?'</p>
+
+<p>A painful flush crossed Audrey's face. This was a worse
+ordeal than she had expected. She had been prepared for
+reproaches, even for bitter words; but this softness, this tearful
+and caressing gentleness, seemed to deprive her of all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">{245}</a></span>
+strength, to cut away the ground from under her feet. She
+was at once touched and grateful for her sister's forbearance.</p>
+
+<p>'You are very good to me, Gage,' she said in a low voice;
+'I know how utterly I have disappointed you and Percival&mdash;and
+from a worldly point of view I daresay you are both right.
+Cyril is poor, he has to work his way up, he is not what
+people would call a good match; but then, you know, I have
+always been terribly unpractical.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is not only that,' sighed Geraldine; 'as far as Mr.
+Blake is concerned, one cannot say much against him; he is
+very gentlemanly. I suppose one would get used to him,
+though I shall never, never think him good enough for you.
+But there are other objections: the idea that Mrs. Blake will
+be your mother-in-law makes me utterly wretched.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor woman! she is so nice, and I am so fond of her. I
+often wonder why you are so prejudiced against her, Gage;
+but of course it is all that tiresome Mrs. Bryce.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed, it is not,' returned Mrs. Harcourt quickly. 'I
+do not want to vex you, Audrey; things are miserable enough
+without our quarrelling, and however unhappy you make me, I
+will never quarrel with my only sister. But you must let me
+say this for once, that I cannot like Mrs. Blake. From the
+first moment I have distrusted her, and I know Percival feels
+the same.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Gage, do be reasonable. I am going to marry Cyril,
+not Mrs. Blake!'</p>
+
+<p>'When a woman marries she enters her husband's family,'
+returned Geraldine in her old decided manner; 'you will
+belong to them, not to us&mdash;at least,' correcting herself, as the
+thought of her daily visits to Woodcote occurred to her, 'you
+will have to share your husband's interests and responsibilities
+with regard to his family. You cannot divide yourself from
+him without failing in your wifely duty.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am quite of your opinion,' returned Audrey happily;
+'Cyril's mother and Kester and Mollie will be very dear to me.
+I never dreamt for one moment of separating my interests from
+his.'</p>
+
+<p>'If I thought you really loved him&mdash;&mdash;' observed Geraldine,
+but here she stopped, warned by an indignant flash in Audrey's
+gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'You might have spared me that, Gage,' she said, rather
+sadly; 'I think I have had enough to bear already from you
+and Percival. You have done your best to depress and dishearten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">{246}</a></span>
+me; you have not even wished me happiness.' Then
+Geraldine burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't want to be unkind,' she sobbed, in such distress
+that Audrey repented her quick words; 'but you must give me
+time to get over this. It is the first real trouble I have ever
+had.' And then, as Audrey kissed her and coaxed her, she
+allowed herself to be somewhat consoled.</p>
+
+<p>'You know you must think of yourself, Gage; you must
+not make yourself ill about me. I am not worth it.' Then
+Geraldine did summon up a smile.</p>
+
+<p>'And you will be good to Cyril? The poor fellow could not
+help falling in love with me, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course we shall behave properly to him,' returned Geraldine,
+drawing herself up a little stiffly; 'you must not expect
+us to receive him with open arms. Mr. Blake must know
+how entirely we disapprove of the engagement; but, of course,
+as my father has given his consent, we have no right to
+make ourselves disagreeable. You must give me a little time,
+Audrey, just to recover myself, and then he shall be asked to
+dinner.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope you will not ask me at the same time!' exclaimed
+Audrey in genuine alarm; and Geraldine looked rather shocked.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course you must come with him! that is understood.
+You will be asked everywhere if&mdash;if&mdash;&mdash;' looking at her suggestively,
+'you mean your engagement to be known.'</p>
+
+<p>'Most certainly! I object very strongly to secrecy under
+any circumstances.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then in that case you must be prepared for congratulations
+and a round of dinners.'</p>
+
+<p>'I prefer congratulations to condolences,' returned Audrey a
+little wickedly; and then, as though to atone for her joke, she
+suddenly knelt down before her sister and put her arms round
+her. 'Dear Gage, I do feel such a wretch for having upset you
+like this. No wonder Percival owes me a grudge. Now, do
+say something nice to me before I go&mdash;there's a darling!' and,
+of course, Geraldine melted in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>'I do pray, with all my heart, that you may be happy,' she
+sighed, and then they kissed each other very affectionately.
+'Give my love to mother, and tell her I am not well enough to
+come to her to-day,' were Geraldine's parting words as Audrey
+left her.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harcourt came out of his study the moment he heard
+the door close.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">{247}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Well,' he asked, with a shade of anxiety in his tone, 'have
+you made any impression, my dear?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Percy,' returned his wife sadly. 'She is bent on taking
+her own way&mdash;the Blake influence is far too strong.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, well,' in a tone of strong disgust, 'she is making her
+own bed, and must lie on it. It was an evil day for all of us
+when your father engaged Blake for his junior classical master.
+I wanted him to have Sowerby&mdash;Sowerby is the better man,
+and all his people are gentlefolks&mdash;but there is no turning the
+Doctor when he has got an idea in his head: no one but Blake
+would do. And now mischief has come of it. But, all the
+same, I won't have you making yourself ill about it&mdash;remember
+that, my love. You have got me to think about, and I don't
+choose to have my wife spoiling her eyes after this fashion. It
+is too damp for you to go out, for there has been a sharp shower
+or two; but I have half an hour to spare, and can read to you
+if you like.' And to this Geraldine gratefully assented.</p>
+
+<p>It may be doubted whether she heard much of the brilliant
+essay that Mr. Harcourt had selected for her delectation, but
+it was very soothing to lie there and listen to her husband's
+voice. The sentences grew involved presently, and there was a
+humming, as though of bees, in the quiet room. Mr. Harcourt
+smiled to himself as he went on reading&mdash;the sleep would do
+her more good than the essay, he thought; and in this he was
+right.</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Ross received her daughter's message she at once
+prepared to go up to Hillside, and spent the remainder of the
+afternoon there.</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine had awakened from her nap much refreshed, and
+was disposed to take a less lugubrious view of things. She
+was certainly somewhat depressing at first, and her mother
+found her implied reproaches somewhat hard to bear; but she
+was still too languid and subdued to speak with her usual
+decision.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose that we shall have to make the best of it,' she
+observed presently, in a resigned tone of voice. 'It will always
+be a great trouble to me&mdash;but one must expect trouble in this
+world, as I said to Percy just now. I am afraid we have been
+too happy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my dear! you must not say such things.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is better to say them than to think them. Percy never
+minds how much I complain to him, if I will only not brood
+over worries by myself. He says that it is so bad for me.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">{248}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Percival is quite right, my love;' and Mrs. Ross looked
+anxiously at her daughter's pale face. 'But you know your
+one duty is to keep yourself cheerful. Try and put all this
+away from your mind, and leave Audrey to be happy in her
+own way. Mr. Blake is really a very nice lovable fellow, and
+I am quite fond of him already, and so is your father&mdash;and I
+am sure your father is a good judge of character.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, mother dear; and you must not think Percy and I
+mean to be tiresome and disagreeable. It is not the young
+man so much that we mind&mdash;though we shall always think
+Audrey is lowering herself in marrying him&mdash;but it is that
+odious Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>Then, for the moment, Mrs. Ross felt herself uncomfortable.
+Mrs. Blake had called on her that very morning, while Audrey
+was at Hillside, and in spite of her mildness and toleration she
+had been obliged to confess to herself that Mrs. Blake's manners
+had not quite pleased her. Geraldine managed to extract the
+whole account of the interview, though Mrs. Ross gave it rather
+reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>'And I suppose she was absurdly impulsive, as usual,
+mother?' she asked, when Mrs. Ross had finished a somewhat
+brief narrative.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, yes. She is always rather effusive; people have
+their own style, you see.'</p>
+
+<p>'Only Mrs. Blake's is, unfortunately, a very bad style.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay you are right, my dear, and I certainly prefer a
+quieter manner; and it was not quite good taste lauding your
+father and me to the skies for our goodness in allowing the
+match. Poor woman! I daresay she was a little excited;
+only it was a pity to let her feelings carry her away&mdash;still, she
+was very nice about Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'She will be her daughter-in-law, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Ross winced slightly. She was glad that Mrs.
+Charrington was that moment announced&mdash;she was a pleasant
+chatty woman, and always paid long visits: Geraldine was her
+special favourite. As the news of the engagement had not yet
+reached her, the talk was confined to certain local interests: a
+new grant of books to the library, the difficulty of finding a
+butler, and the lameness of one of Dr. Ross's carriage-horses;
+and Mrs. Ross was in this manner relieved from any more
+awkward questions.</p>
+
+<p>Her husband was her only confidant, and to him she did
+disburden herself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">{249}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I do wish that Mrs. Blake were a different sort of woman,
+John,' she observed that night. 'She is very handsome and
+amusing; but she is certainly too unrestrained in her talk.'</p>
+
+<p>'We must take folk as we find them, Emmie,' returned Dr.
+Ross quietly. 'Mrs. Blake is not your sort. In spite of having
+a grown-up son, she is not quite grown-up herself: middle-aged
+people ought not to talk out all their feelings as though they
+were children. But she is a very pleasing person for all that.'</p>
+
+<p>'So I always thought; but she tires one. Not that I would
+let Audrey know that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Audrey would keep a dozen Mrs. Blakes in order,'
+was her husband's response; and then Mrs. Ross said no more.</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine kept her word, and about a week later Cyril
+Blake received a civil little note, asking him to dine at Hillside
+on the following evening.</p>
+
+<p>'We shall be quite by ourselves. It will be only a family
+party&mdash;just my husband's brother, Mr. Walter Harcourt, and
+his wife;' for the Walter Harcourts had come on a visit.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril looked a little grave as he showed the note to Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose I must go; but it will be very terrible. I don't
+mind telling you, Audrey, that I am awfully afraid of your
+sister.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor fellow!' returned Audrey, with one of her charming
+smiles; 'I wish I could spare you this ordeal. But I can give
+you one bit of comfort: Gage will behave very nicely to you.'
+And though Cyril still felt a little dubious on this point, he was
+obliged to own afterwards that she was right.</p>
+
+<p>The evening was a far pleasanter one than he expected. Mr.
+Harcourt was thawed by his brother's presence, and though
+there was a slight stiffness and reserve in his manner to Cyril,
+there was no aggressiveness; and Geraldine was too much of a
+gentlewoman to behave ungraciously to any guest. Both of
+them were quite civil to Cyril, though they could not be said
+to be demonstrative, and there was no attempt to treat him as
+one of themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Walter Harcourt was a barrister, and was rapidly rising
+in his profession. He was considerably younger than his brother,
+and had recently married a wealthy young widow. He was a
+clever talker, and his stock of legal anecdotes kept them all
+well amused. He and Audrey were old friends, and at one
+time Geraldine and her husband had privately hoped that their
+acquaintance might ripen into a tenderer feeling.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the ladies reached the drawing-room, Mrs. Walter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">{250}</a></span>
+Harcourt, who was a pretty, vivacious little woman, observed
+confidentially to Geraldine:</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, I must congratulate you. That future brother-in-law
+of yours is one of the handsomest men I have ever seen. I
+always thought Walter a good-looking fellow, and I daresay
+you thought much the same of Percival; but both our husbands
+looked very ordinary people beside him. In fact, Walter was
+quite clumsy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense, Maggie!' returned Geraldine, glancing behind
+her to see if Audrey were within earshot. 'How can you make
+such absurd comparisons? Of course Mr. Blake is good-looking;
+but, for my own part, I always distrust handsome men.'</p>
+
+<p>'They are generally such fools, you see. I hate talking to a
+man who is too self-engrossed to pay me attention. But Mr.
+Blake is thoroughly nice. I must go to Audrey and tell her
+how much I admire her <i>fianc&eacute;</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank goodness, that is over!' exclaimed Cyril fervently,
+as Audrey joined him in the porch. 'I have not had a word
+with you yet.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey smiled as she gathered up her long dress and stepped
+out into the dark shrubberies.</p>
+
+<p>'It was very pleasant,' she observed tranquilly. 'The Walter
+Harcourts are clever, amusing people. You got on capitally
+with both of them; and, Cyril, I am sure Gage was as nice as
+possible.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes!' he returned quickly; 'and I admire her
+excessively; but, all the same, I shall never feel at my ease
+with her.' And, as Audrey uttered a protest at this, he
+continued seriously: 'Of course, I know what Mrs. Harcourt
+thinks of my presumption; her manner told me that at once.
+"You are not one of us"&mdash;that is what her tone said to me;
+and yet she was quite kind and civil. Oh, Audrey'&mdash;interrupting
+himself, and speaking almost passionately&mdash;'if I
+were only more worthy of you! But have patience with me,
+and your people shall respect me yet.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Cyril, please do not talk so!' and Audrey stole closer
+to him in the October darkness. 'You have behaved so
+beautifully to-night, and I felt, oh! so proud of my sweetheart.
+And if I am content, what does it matter what other people
+think?'</p>
+
+<p>'Forgive me, darling,' he returned remorsefully; 'I am
+only sometimes a little sore because I can give you so little.'</p>
+
+<p>And then his mood changed, for the subtle comfort of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">{251}</a></span>
+sweet words was thrilling through him; for he was young, and
+the girl he worshipped from the depths of his honest heart was
+alone with him under the dim, cloudy skies. Was it any
+wonder that the world was forgotten, and only the golden haze
+of the future seemed before them, as they walked together
+through the quiet streets to Woodcote?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">{252}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>WHAT MICHAEL THOUGHT OF IT</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Not to be solitary one must possess, entirely to one's self, a human
+creature, and belong exclusively to her (or him).'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Guizot.</span></p>
+
+<p>'How, then, is one to recover courage enough for action?</p>
+
+<p class="sep">******</p>
+
+<p class="noind">By extracting a richer experience out of our losses and lessons.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Amiel.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Captain Burnett had finished his troublesome piece of
+business, and was thinking of his return home. His friend
+was, metaphorically speaking, on his feet again, and Michael
+was now free to leave London. He had waited, however, for
+another day or two on Kester's account; the friendly doctor
+who had undertaken to look into his case had already done
+wonders. Kester was making rapid progress under his care,
+and his bright looks and evident enjoyment of his town life
+reconciled Michael to their long, protracted stay.</p>
+
+<p>'We must certainly go back to Rutherford next week,' he
+observed one morning, as they sat at breakfast together.</p>
+
+<p>Kester had some appointment with Fred Somers that called
+him out early, and Captain Burnett good-naturedly left his letters
+unread, that he might pour out the coffee and attend to his wants.</p>
+
+<p>'They will keep, and I have nothing to do this morning,'
+he remarked carelessly, as he took them up and laid them down
+again.</p>
+
+<p>After all, he would not be sorry to read them alone.
+There was an Indian letter, and one from Audrey, and several
+notes that were evidently invitations.</p>
+
+<p>When Kester had left him, he sat down in an easy-chair by
+the window. There was a little table beside him, with a red
+jar full of brown leaves and chrysanthemums. He picked out
+one and played with it for a moment, and then Booty jumped
+up uninvited and curled himself up on his knee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">{253}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He read the invitations first, and then threw them aside.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall be at Rutherford,' he thought; and then he opened
+his Indian letter.</p>
+
+<p>It was from a fellow-officer, and contained an amusing account
+of a visit he had lately paid to Calcutta. Just at the end it
+said: 'By the bye, somebody told me the other day that your
+uncle, Mr. Carlisle, was ill. He has got a nasty attack, and
+the doctors are shaking their heads over him. The fellow who
+told me&mdash;it was Donarton&mdash;mentioned that you were likely to
+take a lively interest in the news. Is that true, old man, or
+has Mr. Carlisle any nearer relative than yourself? From what
+I hear, he is a sort of nabob in these parts.'</p>
+
+<p>Captain Burnett put down this letter, and looked dreamily
+out of the window. Was it really so, he wondered? Major
+Glenyow was not the sort of fellow to mention a mere report.
+His uncle was by no means an old man, and once or twice a
+rumour of his intended marriage had reached his ears, but it
+had never been verified. If it were true that his uncle were in
+a bad way, that he should not recover, then, indeed, there was
+a possibility. And here, in spite of himself, Michael fell into a
+day-dream.</p>
+
+<p>If he were rich, if he had sufficient to offer a comfortable
+home and some of the luxuries of life to the woman he wished
+to make his wife, would it be right for him to speak? For
+years his poverty and ill-health had kept him silent; he had
+made no sign: he had been her faithful friend and cousin&mdash;that
+was all!</p>
+
+<p>But now, if the pressure of narrow means were removed, if,
+after all, he were his uncle's heir&mdash;as he verily believed himself
+to be&mdash;might he not venture to plead his cause at last? His
+health was better, and his doctor had often told him, half
+seriously and half in joke, that all he needed was a good wife
+to take care of him.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall never be as strong as other men,' he said to himself;
+'some women might object to me on that score. But she is
+not that sort: she loves to take care of people, to feel herself
+necessary to them.' And here a smile came to his lips. 'I
+have never spoken to her, never dropped a hint of my feelings;
+but, somehow, I do not think she would be surprised if I ever
+told them&mdash;we have been so much to each other. I think I
+could teach her to love me in time&mdash;at least, I would try, my
+sweet.' And here there was a sudden gleam and fire in his
+eyes, and then he took up Audrey's letter, and began to read it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">{254}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But when he had finished the first sentence, a curious dull
+feeling came over him, and he found that he could not understand
+what he was reading; he must go over the passage again.
+But as he re-read it the same numbness and impossibility of
+comprehension came over him; and yet the words were very
+clearly written:</p>
+
+<p>'Shall you be very much surprised, my dear Michael, to hear
+some news I have to tell you? I am engaged to Mr. Blake.
+I will tell you all about it presently, just as though you were
+my father-confessor; I will not hide one little thing from you.
+But I was never one to beat about the bush, and I hope my
+abruptness has not made you jump; but oh, Michael dear, I
+am so happy!' etc.</p>
+
+<p>He read this sentence half a dozen times, until something of
+its meaning had taken hold of his dense brain; and then he
+read the letter straight through to the very end, slowly, and
+often pausing over a sentence that seemed to him a little
+involved. And as he read there was a pinched gray look upon
+his face, as though some sudden illness had seized him; but he
+was not conscious of any active pain, though the whole plan
+and purpose of his life lay crushed in the dust before him, like
+the chrysanthemum that Booty was tearing, petal by petal,
+until his master's coat-sleeve was covered with golden-brown
+shreds. On the contrary, as he sat there, holding the letter
+between his limp hands, his mind wandered off to a story he
+had once read.</p>
+
+<p>Was it the wreck of the <i>Royal George</i>, he wondered? The
+name of the vessel had escaped him, but he knew the story was
+a true one; it had really happened. He had read how the
+vessel was doomed. She was a troop-ship, and there were
+hundreds of brave English soldiers on board; and when they
+knew there was no hope, the officers drew up their men on the
+deck, just as though they were on parade; and the gallant
+fellows stood there, in rank and file, as they went down to their
+watery grave.</p>
+
+<p>'And not a man of them flinched, you may depend on that,'
+he said, half aloud; 'for they were Englishmen, and Englishmen
+know how to die.'</p>
+
+<p>And it seemed to him that he was still ruminating over this
+old story that had happened so many, many years ago, when
+Kester returned, and he must needs tell him the story again,
+and he told it very well, too.</p>
+
+<p>'And not a man of them flinched,' he repeated, rising a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">{255}</a></span>
+little feebly from his chair, 'for they were Englishmen, and
+Englishmen know how to die. Why are you staring at me,
+boy? It is a good story, is it not?'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good indeed, but I was only afraid you were not quite
+well, Captain Burnett; you look so queer, somehow, and your
+hand is shaking.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have sat too long. I think I must walk off my stiffness.
+Don't wait lunch for me, Kester. I may go to my club.'</p>
+
+<p>And then he took down his hat, and went out in the streets,
+with Booty ambling along at his heels.</p>
+
+<p>But he did not go far; he strolled into the Park and sat
+down on a bench. The air refreshed him, and the miserable
+numb feelings left him, and he had power to think.</p>
+
+<p>But there were deep lines in his face as he sat there, and a
+great sadness in his eyes, and just before he rose to go home a
+few words escaped him. 'Oh, my darling, what a mistake,
+when you belong to me! Will you ever find it out for yourself?
+Will you ever recognise that it is a mistake?' And then he
+set his teeth hard, like a man who knows his strength and
+refuses to be beaten.</p>
+
+<p>And the next morning, as they sat at breakfast, Michael
+looked up from his newspaper and asked Kester if he had heard
+the Rutherford news.</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps your mother or Mollie has written to you?' he
+observed, as he carelessly scanned the columns.</p>
+
+<p>Kester looked up a little anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>'No one has told me anything,' he said, rather nervously.
+'I hope it is not bad news.'</p>
+
+<p>'Most people would call it good news. Your brother and
+Miss Ross are engaged. Well'&mdash;as Kester jumped from his
+seat flushing scarlet&mdash;'aren't you delighted? I think you
+ought to write a pretty note to Miss Ross to go with my letter.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you written to her? Will you give her a message
+from me? I would rather write to Cyril. I don't take it in,
+somehow; you are quite sure it is true, Captain Burnett? Of
+course, I am glad that Cyril should be happy, but I always
+thought&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>And here Kester stammered and got confused; but Michael
+did not help him. He took up his paper again, and left him
+to finish his breakfast in silence, and after that he remarked
+that he was going down to his club.</p>
+
+<p>Kester curled himself up on the window-seat as soon as he
+was left alone, and fell into a brown study. Somehow he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">{256}</a></span>
+not make it out at all. He was sharp-witted by nature, and
+years of suffering and forced inaction had made him more
+thoughtful than most boys of his age. He had long ago grasped
+the idea that his idolised hero was not happy, and during their
+stay in Scotland some dim surmise of the truth had occurred to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear old Cyril!' he observed, half aloud; 'I am awfully
+glad for his sake; but it always seemed to me as though Miss
+Ross were a cut above us. If only I were sure that he was
+glad, too.'</p>
+
+<p>And here a troubled look crossed the boy's face; he was
+thinking of the story Captain Burnett had told him yesterday,
+and of the strange dazed look in Michael's eyes: 'And not a
+man of them flinched; for they were Englishmen, and Englishmen
+know how to die.' 'Ah, and to live, too!' thought Kester,
+as he roused himself at last and sat down to his Greek.</p>
+
+<p>When Audrey heard that Michael was really coming home,
+she felt as though she had nothing more to wish. She had
+read his letter at least a dozen times; its brotherly tenderness
+and anxiety for her welfare had touched her to the heart.</p>
+
+<p>'I am very grateful for your confidence,' he wrote, after a
+few earnest wishes for her happiness. 'I would like, if it were
+possible, to keep my old place as Mentor&mdash;we have always been
+such friends, dear, such true and trusty comrades; and I do not
+think that Mr. Blake will object to my cousinly surveillance.
+I could not afford to lose you out of my life, Audrey; so let
+me subscribe myself, now and for ever, your faithful friend and
+brother&mdash;<span class="smcap">Michael.</span>'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey sighed gently as she put down the letter; it touched,
+but it did not completely satisfy her. Michael had not said he
+was glad to hear of her engagement. He was truthful almost to a
+fault. The conventional falsehoods that other men uttered were
+never on his lips. If he could not approve, he would take refuge
+in silence. 'Silence never damages a man's character,' he was
+fond of saying; but many people found this oppressive. Audrey
+had secretly longed for some such word of approval. If Michael
+had only told her that he applauded her courage in marrying a
+poor man, if he had praised her unworldliness, she would have
+been utterly content; but the letter that Michael had written
+with a breaking heart held no such comfort for her. He
+had accepted her decision without a word, and though his
+message of congratulation to Cyril was all that could be wished,
+there was no further allusion to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">{257}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Michael thinks I have been rash,' she said to herself a little
+sorrowfully. 'I suppose he, too, considers that Cyril is rather
+too young. If Michael were only on our side, I should not
+care what the rest of the world thinks;' and then she folded
+up the letter.</p>
+
+<p>But on the day Michael was expected her face was so radiant
+that Cyril pretended to be jealous. 'You are very fond of
+your cousin,' he observed as he followed her to the window,
+where she was watching the clouds a little anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey heard him rather absently. She was thinking that
+the dampness might bring on Michael's neuralgia, and that, if
+he had only named his train, the carriage might have been sent
+for him&mdash;indeed, she would have driven out herself to meet
+him and Kester. 'Oh yes,' she rejoined; 'I have missed him
+terribly all this time. Nothing is right without Michael&mdash;&mdash;'
+and as Cyril looked a little surprised at this, she added quickly:
+'He is like my own brother, Cyril, so it is perfectly natural,
+you see; ever since his illness he has been one of us.' And as
+Cyril professed himself satisfied with this explanation, there
+was nothing more said, and Audrey went up to put the finishing
+touches to Michael's rooms, and to arrange the chrysanthemums
+and coloured leaves in the big Indian jars. If she had only
+known how Michael would shudder at the sight of these chrysanthemums!
+He had taken a dislike to the flowers ever since
+Booty had covered his coat-sleeve with golden-brown petals.</p>
+
+<p>After all, Michael came before he was expected. Audrey
+was sitting chatting to her mother in the twilight, when they
+heard the hall door open and close, and the next moment they
+saw Michael standing on the threshold looking at them.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Michael!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross; but Audrey had
+already crossed the room: both her hands were in Michael's,
+and he was looking at her with his old kind smile, though he
+did not say a word; but Audrey did not seem to notice his
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>'Have you walked from the Gray Cottage? We did not
+hear any wheels. Why did you not let us know your train,
+and I would have driven in to meet you? Mother, I am going
+to ring for the lamp and tea; Michael will be tired!' And
+Audrey did as she said, and then picked up Booty and lavished
+all sorts of caresses on the little animal, while she listened to
+the quiet explanations that Michael was giving to Mrs. Ross.</p>
+
+<p>'You are looking very well, Audrey,' he said at last; 'you
+have not lost your moorland colour yet.' And though he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">{258}</a></span>
+this in his usual tone, he thought that never in his life had he
+seen her look so sweet.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish I could return the compliment,' was her answer;
+'you are looking thin and pale, Michael. You have been giving
+us such a good account of yourself, but London never suits you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think it suits me better than it did,' he returned quietly;
+but he could not quite meet her affectionate look. 'I shall
+have to run up there pretty frequently now; one must look up
+one's friends more: out of sight is out of mind in many cases.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey gave an incredulous smile. She thought Michael
+would not act up to this resolution; but he fully meant what
+he said. Woodcote, dearly as he loved it, would never be his
+home now. Of course, he would do things by degrees: his
+brief absences should grow longer and more frequent, until they
+had become used to them; and perhaps in time he might break
+with his old life altogether. But he put away these thoughts,
+and talked to them in his usual easy fashion, asking questions
+about Geraldine and her husband; and presently Dr. Ross came
+in and monopolised him entirely.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt as though she had not had a word with him
+when she went upstairs to dress for dinner. True, he had asked
+after Cyril, and inquired if he were coming in that evening; but
+on Audrey's replying in the negative he had made no observation.</p>
+
+<p>'When father is in the room he never will let Michael talk
+to anyone else,' she said to herself rather discontentedly; 'if I
+could only get him alone!'</p>
+
+<p>She had her wish presently, for on her return to the drawing-room
+she found him lying back in an easy-chair, looking at the
+fire. He was evidently thinking intently, for he did not hear
+her entrance until she was close beside him; but at the touch
+of her hand on his shoulder he started violently.</p>
+
+<p>'A penny for your thoughts, Michael,' she said gaily, as he
+jumped up and stood beside her on the rug.</p>
+
+<p>'They are too valuable to be saleable,' he returned lightly;
+'suppose you let me hear yours instead.'</p>
+
+<p>'You shall have them and welcome. Oh, Michael, how
+delicious it is to be talking to you again; letters are so stupid
+and unsatisfactory!'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean my letters in particular?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no! They were as nice as possible; but, all the same,
+they did not quite satisfy me. Do you know,' and here her
+tone was a little wistful, 'you have not told me that you are
+glad about my engagement? You said so many nice things;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">{259}</a></span>
+but somehow I was longing for just one word of approval from
+my old Mentor.'</p>
+
+<p>An uneasy flush crossed Michael's face; but the firelight was
+flickering just then, and Audrey could not see him distinctly.
+For one moment he was silent; then he put her gently in a
+seat and placed himself beside her. It would be easier to talk
+to her so, and perhaps he was conscious of some sudden weakness.</p>
+
+<p>'How cold your hands are!' she observed anxiously; 'if
+you will break the big coal the fire will burn more brightly.'
+And as he obeyed her she continued: 'Ah, now we can see
+each other! I do dislike a flickering, uncertain light. Now,
+will you tell me frankly if you were glad or sorry when you got
+my letter?'</p>
+
+<p>He was more prepared now, and his voice was quite steady
+as he answered her.</p>
+
+<p>'Mentor has no objection to be catechised, but he wishes to
+put one question first. Are you quite content and happy,
+Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed I am!' turning to him one of the brightest faces
+he had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p>'Then, my dear, I am satisfied, too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, but that will not do! You must tell me your own
+private opinion. I know you like Cyril&mdash;you have always
+spoken well of him; but are you sure that in your heart you
+thoroughly approve my choice?'</p>
+
+<p>She was pressing him close, but he did not flinch; he only
+turned to her rather gravely.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Audrey, there are limits even to Mentor's privileges.
+When two people make up their minds to take each
+other for better, for worse, no third person has a right to give
+an opinion. I know little of Mr. Blake, but I have already a
+respect for him. I am perfectly sure that in time we shall be
+good friends.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope so&mdash;I hope so from my heart!' she returned
+earnestly. 'You are very guarded, Michael; and, though you
+are too kind to say so, I know you think I have acted rather
+hastily. Perhaps you would rather I had waited a little
+longer; but Cyril was so unhappy, and I&mdash;well, I was not quite
+comfortable myself. It is so much nicer to have it all settled.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I see.'</p>
+
+<p>'And now everything is just perfect. Oh, Michael, you
+must not go away for a long time! I cannot do without you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope you don't expect me to believe that?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">{260}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'But it is perfectly true, I assure you. Actually, Cyril
+pretended to be jealous to-day, because I could think of nothing
+but your coming home. He was only teasing me; for of course
+he understands what we feel for each other. If you were my
+own brother, Michael, I could not want you more. But that is
+the best of Cyril; he is really so unselfish&mdash;almost as unselfish
+as you.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear child,' returned Michael lazily, 'did you ever hear
+of a certain philosopher named Diogenes, and how he set off one
+day, lamp in hand, to search through the city for an honest
+man? Really, your remark makes me inclined to light my own
+private farthing dip, and look for this curious anomaly, an unselfish
+man.'</p>
+
+<p>'You would not have to go far,' she returned innocently.
+'There are two of them in Rutherford at the present moment.'</p>
+
+<p>But he only shook his head and laughed at this guileless
+flattery, and at that moment, to his relief, Dr. Ross came into
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>But as he took his place at the dinner-table he had a curious
+sensation, as though he had been racked; and, though he
+laughed and talked, he had an odd feeling all the time as
+though he were not quite sure of his own identity; and all that
+evening a few words that Audrey had said haunted him like a
+refrain:</p>
+
+<p>'If you were my own brother, Michael, I could not want you
+more&mdash;if you were my own brother I could not want you more!'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">{261}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>MICHAEL TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'My privilege is to be the spectator of my own life-drama, to be fully
+conscious of the tragi-comedy of my own destiny; and, more than that,
+to be in the secret of the tragi-comic itself.</p>
+
+<p class="sep">******</p>
+
+<p>'Without grief, which is the string of this venturesome kite, man
+would soar too quickly and too high, and the chosen souls would be lost
+for the race, like balloons, which, but for gravitation, would never return
+from the empyrean.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Amiel.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Michael's return had greatly added to Audrey's happiness. In
+spite of her lover's society and her natural joyousness of disposition,
+she had been conscious that something had been
+lacking to her complete contentment.</p>
+
+<p>'No one but Michael could take Michael's place,' as she told
+him a little pathetically that first evening.</p>
+
+<p>But when a few days had elapsed she became aware that
+things were not quite the same between them&mdash;that the Michael
+who had come back to her was not exactly the old Michael.</p>
+
+<p>The old Michael had been somewhat of an autocrat&mdash;a good-natured
+autocrat, certainly, who tyrannised over her for her
+own good, and who assumed the brotherly right of inquiring
+into all her movements and small daily plans. They had
+always been much together, especially since Geraldine's marriage
+had deprived her of sisterly companionship; and it had been
+an understood thing in the Ross family that where Audrey was,
+Michael was generally not far off.</p>
+
+<p>Under these circumstances, it was therefore quite natural
+that Audrey should expect her cousin to resume his usual
+habits. She had counted on his companionship during the
+hours Cyril was engaged in his schoolroom duties. In old
+times Michael had often accompanied her on her visits to her
+various <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;es</i>; he had always been her escort to the garden-parties<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">{262}</a></span>
+that were greatly in vogue at Rutherford, or he would
+drive her to Brail or some of the outlying towns or villages
+where she had business.</p>
+
+<p>It was somewhat of a disappointment, then, to find that
+Michael had suddenly turned over a new leaf, and was far too
+occupied to be at her beck and call. Kester came to him
+almost daily, and it became his custom to spend the remainder
+of the morning in Dr. Ross's study. He had a habit, too, of
+writing his letters after luncheon; in fact, he was seldom disengaged
+until the evening, when he was always ready to take
+his place in the family circle.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey accused herself of selfishness. Of course she ought
+to be glad that Michael's health had so much improved. Her
+father was always remarking on the change in a tone of
+satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>'He is like the old Mike,' he said once; 'he has taken
+a new departure, and has shaken off his listlessness. Why, he
+works quite steadily now for hours without knocking up. He
+is a different man. He takes a class for me every morning; it
+does me good to see him with half a dozen boys round him.
+Blake will have to look out for himself; he is hardly as
+popular as the Captain.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey took herself to task severely when her father said
+this. It was evident that Michael had spoilt her. She was
+determined not to monopolise him so selfishly; but, somehow,
+when it came to the point, she was always forgetting these
+good resolutions.</p>
+
+<p>And another thing puzzled Audrey: Michael was certainly
+quieter than he used to be; when they were alone&mdash;which was a
+rare occurrence now&mdash;he seemed to have so little to say to
+her. Sometimes he would take up his book and read out a few
+passages, but if she begged him to put it down and talk to her
+instead, he would dispute the point in the most tiresome
+fashion.</p>
+
+<p>'I think people talk too much, nowadays,' he would say in
+his lazy way; 'it is all lip-service now. If women would only
+cultivate their minds a little more, and learn to hold their
+tongues until they have something worth saying, the world
+would not be flooded with all this muddy small-talk. Now,
+for example, if you would allow me to read you this fine
+passage from Emerson.'</p>
+
+<p>But if Audrey would allow nothing of the kind, and if, on
+the contrary, she manifested an obstinate determination to talk,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">{263}</a></span>
+he would argue with her in the same playful fashion; but she
+could never draw him into one of their old confidential talks.</p>
+
+<p>But when they were all together of an evening, Michael
+would be more like his old self. He would sit beside the piano
+when she sang, and turn over the leaves for her, or he would
+coax her to be his partner in a game of whist, and lecture her
+in his old fashion; but all the time he would be looking at her
+so kindly that his lectures never troubled her in the least.</p>
+
+<p>But when Cyril spent the evening at Woodcote, which was
+generally once or twice a week, Michael never seemed to think
+that they wanted him: he would bury himself in his book or
+paper, or challenge Dr. Ross to a game of chess. He never
+took any notice of Audrey's appealing looks, and her kindly
+attempts to draw him into conversation with her and Cyril
+were all disregarded.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey bore this for some time, and then she made up her
+mind that she must speak to him. She was a little shy of
+approaching the subject&mdash;Michael never seemed to give her any
+opening now&mdash;but she felt she must have it out with him.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, when she and Cyril had exchanged their parting
+words in the hall, she went back to the drawing-room and
+found Michael standing alone before the fire. She went up to
+him at once, but as he turned to her she was struck with his
+air of weariness and depression.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Michael, how tired you look!' she observed, laying her
+hand on his arm. 'Have you neuralgia again?' And as he
+shook his head, she continued anxiously: 'Are you sure you
+are quite well&mdash;that nothing is troubling you? You have
+been so very quiet this evening. Michael'&mdash;and here she
+blushed a little&mdash;'I want to say something to you, and yet I
+hardly know how to put it&mdash;it is just like your thoughtfulness&mdash;but,
+indeed, there is no need: you are never in the way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is this an enigma? If so, I may as well tell you I give it
+up at once. I never could guess conundrums;' and Michael
+twirled his moustache in a most provoking way; but, all the
+same, he perfectly understood her. 'I give it up,' he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey pretended to frown.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, I never knew you so tiresome before. It is
+impossible to speak seriously to you&mdash;and I really am serious.'
+And then her tone changed, and she looked at him very gently.
+'You mean it so kindly, but indeed it is not necessary. Neither
+Cyril nor I could ever find you in the way.'</p>
+
+<p>He looked down at the rug as she spoke, and there was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">{264}</a></span>
+moment's silence before he answered her. She had come
+straight to him from her lover to say this thing to him. It
+was so like Audrey to tell him this. An odd thought occurred
+to him as he listened to her&mdash;one of those sudden flashes of
+memory that sometimes dart across the mind: he remembered
+that once in his life he had kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>It had been half a lifetime ago. She was only a child.
+They were staying in London, and he had come to see them on
+his way from some review. He remembered how Audrey had
+stood and looked at him. She had the same clear gray eyes
+then.</p>
+
+<p>'How grand you look, Mike!' she exclaimed in an awestruck
+tone, for as a child she had always called him 'Mike.'
+'I wish you would always wear that beautiful scarlet coat; and
+I think, if you did not mind, I should like you to kiss me just
+for once.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael remembered how he had felt as she made that
+innocent request, and how Dr. Ross had laughed; and then,
+when he kissed her cheek, she thanked him quite gravely, and
+slipped back to her father.</p>
+
+<p>'Why don't you ask for a kiss, too, Gage?' Dr. Ross
+observed in a joking way.</p>
+
+<p>But Geraldine had looked quite shocked at the idea.</p>
+
+<p>'No, thank you, father; I never kiss soldiers,' she replied
+discreetly&mdash;at which reply there had been a fresh laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'He may be a soldier, but Mike's Mike, and I wanted to
+kiss him,' returned Audrey stoutly. 'Why do you laugh,
+daddy?&mdash;little girls may kiss anybody.'</p>
+
+<p>Had he cared for her ever since then, he wondered; and
+then he pulled himself up with a sort of start.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, why do you not answer me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because I was thinking,' he returned quietly. 'Audrey,
+do you know you are just as much a child as you were a dozen
+years ago? Does it ever occur to you, my dear, that Blake
+might not always endorse your opinion? Stop,' as she was
+about to speak; 'we all know what a kind-hearted person our
+Lady Bountiful is, and how she never thinks of herself at all.
+But I have a sort of fellow-feeling with Blake, and I quite understand
+his view of the case&mdash;that two is company and three are
+none.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Michael,' and here Audrey blushed again, most
+becomingly, 'indeed Cyril is not so ridiculous. I know what
+people generally think: that engaged couples like to be left to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">{265}</a></span>
+themselves&mdash;and I daresay it is pleasant sometimes&mdash;but I
+don't see why they are to be selfish. Cyril has plenty of
+opportunities for talking to me; but when he comes of an
+evening there is no need for you to turn hermit.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is a character I prefer. All old bachelors develop this
+sort of tendency to isolate themselves at times from their
+fellow-creatures. To be sure, I am naturally gregarious; but,
+then, I hate to spoil sport. "Do as you would be done by"&mdash;that
+is the Burnett motto. So, by your favour, I intend
+Blake to have his own way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, how silly you must think us!' she returned impatiently.
+'I wish you would not be so self-opinionative, Michael; for
+you are wrong&mdash;quite wrong. I should be far happier if you
+would make one of us, as you do on other evenings.'</p>
+
+<p>'And this is the <i>r&ocirc;le</i> you have selected for me,' replied
+Michael mournfully: 'to play gooseberry in my old age, and
+get myself hated for my pains. No, my dear child; listen to
+the words of wisdom: leave Mentor to enjoy a surreptitious
+nap in his arm-chair, and be content with your Blake audience.'
+And, in spite of all her coaxing and argument, she could not
+induce him to promise that he would mend his ways.</p>
+
+<p>'You are incorrigible!' she said, as she bade him good-night.
+'After all, Cyril gives me my own way far more than
+you do.'</p>
+
+<p>But Michael seemed quite impervious to this reproach: the
+smile was still on his face as she left him; but as the door
+closed his elbow dropped heavily on the mantelpiece, and a
+sombre look came into the keen blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Shall I have to give it up and go away?' he said to himself.
+'Life is not worth living at this price. Oh, my darling!
+my innocent darling! why do you not leave me in peace? why
+do you tempt me with your sweet looks and words to be false
+to my own sense of honour? But I will not yield&mdash;I dare not,
+for all our sakes. If she will not let me take my own way, I
+must just throw it all up and go abroad. God bless her! I
+know she means what she says, and Mike is Mike still.' And
+then he groaned, and his head dropped on his arms, and the
+tide of desolation swept over him. He was still young&mdash;in the
+prime of life&mdash;and yet what good was his life to him?</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was a healthy-minded young person; she was not
+given to introspection. She never took herself to pieces, in a
+morbid way, to examine the inner workings of her own mind,
+after the manner of some folk, who regulate themselves in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">{266}</a></span>
+bungling fashion, and wind themselves up afresh daily; and
+who would even time their own heart-beats if it were possible.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was not one of these scrupulous self-critics. She
+would have considered it waste of time to be always weighing
+herself and her feelings in a nicely-adjusted balance. 'Know
+thyself,' said an old thinker; but Audrey Ross would have
+altered the saying: 'Look out of yourself; self-forgetfulness is
+better than any amount of self-knowledge.'</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, Audrey was a little thoughtful after this conversation
+with Michael, and during the next few weeks she was
+conscious of feeling vaguely dissatisfied with herself. Now and
+then she wondered if she were different from other girls, and if
+her absence of moods, and her constant serenity and gaiety,
+were not signs of a phlegmatic temperament.</p>
+
+<p>She was perfectly content with her own position. She had
+never imagined before how pleasant it would be to be engaged,
+and to have one human being entirely devoted to her. She
+was very much attached to her <i>fianc&eacute;</i>. He never disappointed
+her; on the contrary, she discovered every day some new and
+admirable trait that excited her admiration, and as a lover he
+was simply perfect. He never made her uneasy by demanding
+more than she felt inclined to give; at the same time, it
+deepened her sense of security and restfulness to feel how completely
+he understood her.</p>
+
+<p>But now and then she would ask herself if her love for Cyril
+were all that it ought to be. She began to compare herself
+with others&mdash;with Geraldine, for example. She remembered
+the months of Geraldine's engagement, and how entirely she
+and Percival had been absorbed in each other. Geraldine had
+never seemed to have eyes or ears for anyone but her lover, and
+in his absence she had hardly seemed like herself at all.</p>
+
+<p>She had been obliged to pay a few weeks' visit to some
+friends in Scotland, and Audrey had accompanied her, and she
+remembered how, when their visit was half over, she had
+jestingly observed that she would never be engaged to anyone
+if she were compelled to lose her own identity. 'For you know
+you are not the same person, Gage,' she had said; 'instead of
+taking pleasure in our friends' society, you shut yourself up and
+write endless letters to Percival; and when we drive out or go
+in the boat, you never seem to see the beautiful scenery, and
+the mountains and the loch might be in the clouds; and when
+anyone asks you a question, you seem to answer it from a
+distance, and everyone knows that your thoughts are at Rutherford.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">{267}</a></span>
+And though Geraldine had chosen to be offended at this
+plain speaking, she had not been able to defend herself. And
+then, had not Audrey once found her crying in her room, and
+for a long time she had refused to be comforted? Audrey had
+been much alarmed, for she thought something must be wrong
+at Woodcote; but it was only that Percival had a headache and
+seemed so dull without her. 'He says he really cannot bear
+the place without me, that he thinks he must go to Edith&mdash;and,
+and, I want to go home dreadfully,' finished Geraldine
+tearfully; 'I don't think engaged people ought to leave each
+other, and I know Percival thinks so too.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey remembered this little episode when during the
+Christmas holidays Cyril was obliged to go up to town for ten
+days. She missed him excessively, and wrote him charming
+little letters every day; but, nevertheless, the time did not
+hang heavily on her hands. But she was glad when the day of
+his return arrived, and she went down to the Gray Cottage to
+welcome him. Mrs. Blake had suggested it as a little surprise,
+and Audrey had agreed at once. Cyril's delight at seeing her
+almost deprived him of good manners. He knew his <i>fianc&eacute;e</i>
+objected to any sort of demonstration before people; and he
+only just remembered this in time, as Audrey drew back with a
+heightened colour.</p>
+
+<p>But he made up for it afterwards when Mrs. Blake left
+them alone, and Audrey was almost overwhelmed by his
+vehement expressions of joy at finding himself with her again.</p>
+
+<p>'It has been the longest ten days I have ever spent in my
+life,' he observed; 'I was horribly bored, and as homesick as
+possible. I am afraid Norton found me very poor company.
+If it had not been for your letters, I could not have borne it.
+You shall never send me away again, dearest.'</p>
+
+<p>'But that is nonsense,' she returned, in her sensible way;
+'you cannot stop at Rutherford all the year round, and it will
+not do for you to lose your friends. I shall have to pay visits
+myself; and I am afraid I shall not always ask your leave if
+any very tempting invitations come.'</p>
+
+<p>'You will not need to do so,' he answered quietly; 'do you
+think I should begrudge you any pleasure? I have no wish,
+even if I had the right, to curtail your freedom. I am not so
+selfish.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are never selfish,' she returned softly. 'Cyril dear, I
+suppose I ought to be pleased that you feel like this; but, do
+you know, I am just a little sorry.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">{268}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Sorry!' and indeed he could hardly believe his ears, for was
+he not paying her a pretty compliment?</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; it makes me rather uncomfortable. It seems to me
+as though I ought to feel the same, as though there were something
+wanting in me. I sometimes fancy I am different from
+other girls.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do not compare yourself with other people,' he returned
+quickly, for he could not bear her to look troubled for a moment.
+This mood was new to him, and he had never seen a shade on
+her bright face before. 'You have a calm temperament&mdash;that
+is your great charm&mdash;you are not subject to the cold and hot
+fits of ordinary mortals. It is my own fault that I cannot be
+happy without you; but I do not expect you to share my
+restlessness.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, that is right,' she replied, very much relieved by this.
+'You are always so nice at understanding things, Cyril. Do
+you know, I was blaming myself for feeling so comfortable in
+your absence. But I was so busy&mdash;I had so many things to
+interest me; and, then, I had Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>The young man flushed slightly, but he had learnt to repress
+himself: he knew, far better than she did, that his love was
+infinitely greater than hers. But what of that? She was a
+woman made to be worshipped. It never troubled him when
+she talked of Michael&mdash;Cyril's nature was too noble for jealousy&mdash;but
+just for the moment her frankness jarred on him.</p>
+
+<p>'I think I was nearly as happy as usual,' she went on,
+determined to tell the truth; 'and yet, by your own account,
+you were perfectly miserable.'</p>
+
+<p>'But that was my own fault,' he returned lightly. 'Men are
+unreasonable creatures; they are not patient like women. It is
+true that I have no life apart from you now, and that I always
+want to be near you; but I do not expect you to feel the same.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey looked at him thoughtfully; he gave her so much,
+and yet he seemed to demand so little.</p>
+
+<p>'You are very good to me, Cyril,' she said, in a low voice.
+'I never thought you would understand me so thoroughly.
+You leave me so free, and you make me so happy. I wonder
+where you have learnt to be so wise.'</p>
+
+<p>'My love for you has taught me many things,' he answered.
+'Do I really make you happy, sweetheart?'</p>
+
+<p>But the look in her eyes was sufficient answer. This was
+his reward&mdash;to see her perfect content and trust in him, and to
+bask in her sweet looks and smiles.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">{269}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2>
+
+<h3>TWO FAMILY EVENTS</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'A solemn thing it is to me</div>
+<div class="verse">To look upon a babe that sleeps,</div>
+<div class="verse">Wearing in its spirit deeps</div>
+<div class="verse">The undeveloped mystery</div>
+<div class="verse">Of our Adam's taint and woe;</div>
+<div class="verse">Which, when they developed be,</div>
+<div class="verse">Will not let it slumber so.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Browning.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>One morning, as the Ross family were sitting at breakfast,
+Audrey noticed that Michael seemed very much absorbed by a
+letter he was reading. He laid it down presently, but made
+no remark, only he seemed a little grave and absent during the
+remainder of the meal.</p>
+
+<p>Just as they were rising from table, she heard him ask her
+father in rather a low tone if he would come into the study for
+a moment, as he wanted a few words with him; and as they
+went out together he mentioned the word dogcart&mdash;could he
+have it in time to catch the 11.15 train?</p>
+
+<p>Audrey felt a sudden quickening of curiosity. Michael's
+manner was so peculiar that she was sure something must have
+happened. She wondered what this sudden summons to town
+meant. It was a bitterly cold day, and a light fall of snow
+had whitened the ground. A three miles' drive in a dogcart
+was not a very agreeable proceeding, only Michael seemed so
+strangely callous to weather now. Surely her father would
+insist on his having a fly from the town? He was always so
+careful of Michael's comfort.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey could settle to nothing; it was impossible to practise
+or answer notes until she had had a word with Michael. So
+she took up the paper and pretended to read it, until the study
+door opened and she heard her cousin go up to his room. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">{270}</a></span>
+next moment Dr. Ross walked in, looking as though he were
+very much pleased.</p>
+
+<p>'Mike's a droll fellow,' he said, addressing his wife, who
+was looking over the tradesmen's books. 'He has just told
+me, with a very long face, that his uncle, Mr. Carlisle, is dead,
+and that he has left him all his money; and he is as lugubrious
+over it as though he had been made bankrupt.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey uttered an exclamation, but Mrs. Ross said, in her
+quiet way:</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps he is grieved at the loss of his uncle, John. It
+would hardly be becoming to rejoice openly at the death of a
+relative, however rich he might be.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid many men would if they were in Mike's shoes.
+Why, they say Mr. Carlisle was worth six or seven thousand a
+year&mdash;most of it solid capital, and locked up in safe securities
+and investments. He was always a canny Scotsman, and liked
+to take care of his money. And here is Mike pretending not
+to care a jot about it, and looking as though he had the cares
+of all the world on his shoulders.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think he shows very good feeling. Michael was never
+mercenary, and the loss of his only near relative would make
+him dull for a time.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Emmie, that is very pretty sentiment; but,
+unfortunately, it does not hold good in this case. Mike has
+never seen his uncle since he was a lad of eighteen&mdash;that is
+about seventeen years ago&mdash;and he has often owned to me that
+Mr. Carlisle was very close in his money dealings. "It is a
+pity there is no sympathy between us," he said once. "Uncle
+Andrew does not seem to have a thought beyond his money-grubbing.
+He is a decent sort of old fellow, I believe, and I
+daresay he will end by marrying some pretty girl or other,
+and then he will be properly miserable all the rest of his life."
+That does not sound much like an affectionate nephew.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, he never cared for him!' interposed Audrey; 'Michael
+and I have often talked about him. It seems so strange that
+he should leave him his money, when he took so little notice of
+him all these years.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, he was not a demonstrative man,' returned her father;
+'but in his way he seemed both fond and proud of Mike. I
+remember when he got the Victoria Cross, and was lying
+between life and death, poor lad! that Mr. Carlisle wrote very
+kindly and enclosed a cheque for two hundred pounds. I had
+to answer the letter for him, and I remember when he got<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">{271}</a></span>
+better, and first came down here, that I recommended him to
+keep up a friendly intercourse with his uncle, though I do not
+believe he took my advice. Mike was always such a lazy
+beggar!'</p>
+
+<p>'And he has to go up to town to see his lawyer, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and he thinks he may be away a week or two; but,
+there, I must not stand here talking. I have told Reynolds to
+order a fly from the town; but he need not start for three-quarters
+of an hour.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey waited impatiently for another twenty minutes
+before Michael made his appearance. He looked very cold,
+and at once proceeded to wheel an easy-chair in front of the
+fire.</p>
+
+<p>'I may as well get warm,' he observed. 'I expect we shall
+have a regular snowstorm before night. Look at that leaden
+sky! Well, what now?'</p>
+
+<p>For Audrey was kneeling on the rug, and she was looking
+at him with her brightest and most bewitching smile.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, I am so glad, so very, very glad. I think I am
+as pleased as though the fortune were mine.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think that is a decent remark to make to a fellow
+who has just lost his uncle? Really, Audrey, you may well
+look ashamed of yourself; I quite blush for you. "Avarice,
+thy name is woman!"'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Michael, don't be absurd. I am not a bit ashamed
+of myself. Of course, I am sorry the poor man is dead; but
+as I never saw him, I cannot be excessively grieved; but I
+am delighted that he has done the right thing and left you all
+his money, and I am sure in your heart that you are glad, too.'</p>
+
+<p>'It does not strike you that I may regard it in the light of
+an unmitigated bore. What does an old bachelor like myself
+want with this heap of money? I should like to know how I
+am to spend six or seven thousand a year&mdash;why, the very idea
+is oppressive!'</p>
+
+<p>'You are very good at pretence, Michael; as though I
+am not clever enough to see through that flimsy attempt at
+philosophy! You think it would be <i>infra dig.</i> to look too
+delighted.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you think I am going in for a stoic?' he returned
+blandly.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but you are not really one; you were never cut out
+for a poor man, Michael; the <i>r&ocirc;le</i> did not suit you at all. It
+is a pain and a grief to you to travel second class, and it is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">{272}</a></span>
+only the best of everything that is good enough for you; and
+you like to put up at first-class hotels, and to have all the
+waiters and railway officials crowding round you. Even when
+we were in Scotland the gillie took you for some titled aristocrat,
+you were so lavish with your money. It is a way you have,
+Michael, to open your purse for everyone. No wonder the
+poor widow living down by the fir-plantation called you the
+noble English gentleman.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, what nonsense you talk!' he replied.</p>
+
+<p>But all the same it pleased him to think that she had
+remembered these things. Oh, those happy days that would
+never come back!</p>
+
+<p>'And now you will be able to gratify all your tastes. You
+have always been so fond of old oak, and you can have a
+beautiful house, and furnish it just as you like; and you can
+buy pictures, and old china, and books. Why, you can have
+quite a famous library, and if you want our assistance, Gage
+and I will be proud to help you; and if you will only consult
+us, it will be the loveliest house you ever saw.'</p>
+
+<p>'What do I want with a house?' he returned a little
+morosely. 'I should think rooms would be far better for a
+bachelor.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, but you need not be a bachelor any longer,' she
+replied gaily. 'You have always told us that you could not
+afford to marry; but now you can have the house and wife
+too.' But here she stopped for a moment, for somehow the
+words sounded oddly as she said them. Michael's wife! What
+a curious idea! And would she be quite willing for Michael to
+marry? His wife must be very nice&mdash;nicer than most girls,
+she said to herself; and here she looked at him a little wistfully;
+but Michael did not make any response. He had the poker in
+his hand, and when she left off speaking he broke up a huge
+coal into a dozen glowing splinters.</p>
+
+<p>'And, then, do you remember,' she went on, 'how you used
+to long for a mail phaeton, and a pair of bay horses? "When
+my ship comes I will drive a pair!" How often you have said
+that to me! Will you drive me in the Park sometimes, Michael,
+until you have someone else whom you want to take?&mdash;for, of
+course, when you have a wife&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But here he interrupted her with marked impatience:</p>
+
+<p>'I shall never have a wife. I wish you would not talk such
+nonsense, Audrey;' and there was such bitterness in his tone
+that she looked quite frightened. But the next moment he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">{273}</a></span>
+spoke more gently. 'Do you not see, dear, that I am a little
+upset about all this money coming to me? It is a great
+responsibility, as well as a pleasure.'</p>
+
+<p>Then as she looked a little downcast at his rebuke, he put
+his hand lightly upon her brown hair and turned her face
+towards him.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, there are tears in your eyes, you foolish child!' he
+said quickly. 'Did you really mind what I said, my dear
+Audrey?' in a more agitated tone&mdash;for, to his surprise, a large
+bright tear fell on his other hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it was not that!' she returned, in rather a choked
+voice. 'Please don't look so concerned, Michael. You know I
+never mind your scolding me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then what is it?' he asked anxiously. 'What can have
+troubled you? Was it my want of sympathy with your little
+plans? The old oak, and the carvings and the books, and even
+the mail phaeton, may come by and by, when I have had time
+to realise my position as Cr&#339;sus. Did my apathy vex you,
+Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; for of course I understood you, and I liked you all the
+better for not caring about things just now. It was only&mdash;you
+will think me very foolish, Michael'&mdash;and here she did look
+ashamed of herself&mdash;'but I felt, somehow, as though all this
+money would separate us. You will not go on living at
+Woodcote, and you will have a home of your own and other
+interests; and perhaps&mdash;don't be vexed&mdash;but if ever you do
+marry, I hope&mdash;I hope&mdash;your wife will be good to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think I can promise you that,' he returned quietly.
+'Thank you, dear, for telling me the truth.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but, Michael, are you not shocked at my selfishness?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not in the least. I understand you far better than you
+understand yourself;' and here he looked at her rather strangely
+as he rose.</p>
+
+<p>'Must you go now?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it is quite time; I can hear wheels coming up the
+terrace.' And then he took her hands, and his old smile was
+on his face. 'Don't have any more mistaken fancies, Audrey;
+all the gold of the Indies would not separate us. If I furnish
+my house, I will promise you that Gage and you shall ransack
+Wardour Street with me; and when you are married, my dear,
+you shall choose what I shall give you;' and as he said this he
+stooped over her, for she was still kneeling before the fire, and
+kissed her very gently just above her eyes. It was done so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">{274}</a></span>
+quietly, almost solemnly, that she was not even startled. 'I
+don't suppose Blake would object to that from Cousin Michael,'
+he said gravely. 'Good-bye for a few days;' and then he was
+gone.</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad he did that,' thought Audrey; 'he has never
+done it before. As though Cyril would mind! I was so afraid
+I had really vexed him with all my foolish talking. But he
+looked so sad, so unlike himself, that I wanted to rouse him. I
+will not tease him any more about a possible wife; it seems to
+hurt him somehow&mdash;and yet why should he be different from
+other men? If he does not go on living here with father and
+mother, he will want some one to take care of him.' And here
+she fell into a brown study, and the work she had taken up lay
+in her lap. After all, it was she who was leaving him&mdash;when
+she was Cyril's wife, how could she look after Michael?</p>
+
+<p>Audrey could think of nothing else for the remainder of the
+day. She told Cyril about her cousin's good fortune when he
+took her out for a walk that afternoon. Neither of them
+minded the hard roads and gray wintry sky; when a few snowflakes
+pelted them they only walked on faster.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril showed a proper interest in the news.</p>
+
+<p>'I am delighted to hear it,' he said heartily. 'Captain Burnett
+is one of the best fellows I know, and he deserves all he
+has got.'</p>
+
+<p>And then, as it was growing dark, and they could hardly
+see each other's face, he coaxed her to go back with him to the
+Gray Cottage to tell Kester the wonderful news. Now, it so
+happened that Mrs. Blake and Mollie had gone to a neighbour's,
+and were not expected back for an hour; but Cyril begged her
+to stay and make tea for them: and a very cosy hour they
+spent, sitting round the fire and making all kinds of possible
+and impossible plans for their hero.</p>
+
+<p>But the next day Audrey's thoughts were diverted into a
+different channel, for Geraldine's boy was born, and great was
+the family rejoicing. Dr. Ross himself telegraphed to Michael.
+Audrey never liked her brother-in-law so well as on the morning
+when he came down to Woodcote to receive their congratulations.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross was at Hillside, and only Audrey and her father
+were sitting at breakfast. Mr. Harcourt looked pale and
+fagged, but there was marvellous content in his whole mien.
+The slight pomposity that had always jarred on Audrey had
+wholly vanished, and he wrung her hand with a warmth of
+feeling that did him credit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">{275}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Once, indeed, she could hardly forbear a smile, when he said,
+with a touch of his old solemnity, 'Nurse says that he is the finest
+child that she has seen for a long time&mdash;and Mrs. Ross perfectly
+agrees with her;' but she commanded herself with difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder if he is like you or Gage, Percival?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is impossible to say at present&mdash;one cannot get to see
+his eyes, and he is a little red. Mrs. Lockhart says they are
+all red at first. But he is astonishingly heavy&mdash;in fact, he is as
+fine a boy as you could see anywhere.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey went on with her breakfast. It was so inexpressibly
+droll to see Percival in the character of the proud father, but
+Dr. Ross seemed perfectly to understand his son-in-law. Audrey's
+pleasure was a little damped when she found that she must not
+see Geraldine. She went about with her head in the air, calling
+herself an aggrieved aunt; and she pretended to be jealous of
+her mother, who had taken up her residence at Hillside during
+the first week.</p>
+
+<p>But when the day came for Audrey to be admitted to that
+quiet room, and she saw Geraldine looking lovelier than ever in
+her weakness, with a dark, downy head nestled against her arm,
+a great rush of tenderness filled her heart, and she felt as though
+she had never loved her sister so dearly.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you take him, Aunt Audrey?' and Geraldine smiled
+at her.</p>
+
+<p>'No, no! do not move him&mdash;let me see mother and son
+together for a moment. Oh, you two darlings, how comfortable
+you look!' but Audrey's tone was a trifle husky, and then she
+gave a little laugh: 'Actually, boy is a week old to-day, and
+this is the first time I have been allowed to see my nephew.'</p>
+
+<p>'It did seem hard,' returned Geraldine, taking her hand;
+'but mother and nurse were such tyrants&mdash;and Percival was
+just as bad; we were not allowed to have a will of our own,
+were we, baby? It was such nonsense keeping my own sister
+from me, as I told them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Percival is very pleased with his boy, Gage;' and then a
+soft, satisfied look came into the young mother's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I think it is more to him than to most men,' she whispered.
+'He is not young, and he did so long for a son. Do you know,
+mother tells me that he nearly cried when she put baby into
+his arms&mdash;at least, there were tears in his eyes, and he could
+scarcely speak when he saw me first. Father loves his little
+boy already,' she continued, addressing the unconscious infant,
+and after that Audrey did consent to take her nephew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">{276}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean to call him, Gage?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mother and I would have liked him to be called John,
+after father; but Percival wishes him so much to have his own
+father's name, Leonard; and of course he ought to have his
+way. You must be my boy's godmother, Audrey&mdash;I will have
+no one else; and Michael must be one godfather&mdash;Percival told
+me this morning that Mr. Bryce must be the other.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad you thought of Michael,' responded Audrey
+rather dreamily: baby had got one of her fingers grasped in
+his tiny fists, and was holding it tightly; and then nurse
+came forward and suggested that Mrs. Harcourt had talked
+enough: and, though Audrey grumbled a little, she was
+obliged to obey.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey took advantage of the first fine afternoon to walk
+over to Brail. It was more than three miles by the road, but
+she was a famous walker. The lanes were still impassable on
+account of the thaw; February had set in with unusual mildness:
+the snow had melted, the little lake at Woodcote was no
+longer a sheet of blue ice, and Eiderdown and Snowflake were
+dabbling joyously with their yellow bills in the water and their
+soft plumes tremulous with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had set out early, and Cyril had promised to meet
+her half-way on her return; the days were lengthening, but he
+was sure the dusk would overtake her long before she got
+home.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was inclined to dispute this point: she liked to be
+independent, and to regulate her own movements. But Cyril
+was not to be coerced.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall meet you, probably by the windmill,' he observed
+quietly. 'If you are not inclined for my companionship, I will
+promise to keep on the other side of the road.'</p>
+
+<p>And of course, after this remark, Audrey was obliged to give
+in; and in her heart she knew she should be glad of his
+company.</p>
+
+<p>She had not seen Mr. O'Brien for some weeks. During the
+winter her visits to Vineyard Cottage were always few and far
+between. Michael had driven her over a few days before
+Christmas, but she had not been there since. She had heard
+that Mrs. Baxter had been ailing for some weeks, and her
+conscience pricked her that she had not made an effort to see
+her. She would have plenty of news to tell them, she thought:
+there was Michael's fortune, and Gage's baby. Last time she
+had told them of her engagement, and had promised to bring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">{277}</a></span>
+Cyril with her one afternoon. She had tried to arrange this
+more than once, but Cyril had proposed that they should wait
+for the spring.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey enjoyed her walk, and it was still early in the afternoon
+when she unlatched the little gate and walked up the
+narrow path to the cottage. As she passed the window she
+could see the ruddy gleams of firelight, and the broad back of
+Mr. O'Brien as he sat in his great elbow-chair in front of the
+fire.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Baxter opened the door. She had a crimson handkerchief
+tied over her hair, and her face looked longer and paler
+than ever.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, it is never you, Miss Ross?' she cried in a subdued
+crescendo. 'Whatever will father say when he knows it is
+you? There's a deal happened, Miss Ross, and I am in a
+shake still when I think of the turn he gave me only the other
+night. I heard the knock, and opened the door, as it might be
+to you, and when I saw who it was&mdash;at least&mdash;&mdash;Why,
+father! father! what are you shoving me away for?' For
+Mr. O'Brien had come out of the parlour, and had taken
+his daughter rather unceremoniously by both shoulders, and
+had moved her out of his way.</p>
+
+<p>'You leave that to me, Priscilla,' he said in rather a peculiar
+voice; and here his great hand grasped Audrey's. 'You have
+done a good deed, Miss Ross, in coming here this afternoon, for
+I am glad and proud to see you;' and then, in a voice he tried
+in vain to steady: 'Susan was right&mdash;she always was, bless
+her!&mdash;and Mat has come home!'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">{278}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2>
+
+<h3>'I COULD NOT STAND IT ANY LONGER, TOM'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'The beautiful souls of the world have an art of saintly alchemy, by
+which bitterness is converted into kindness, the gall of human experience
+into gentleness, ingratitude into benefits, insults into pardon.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Amiel.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>'Mat has come home!'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure as
+she heard this unexpected intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>'Is it really true? Oh, Mr. O'Brien, I am so glad&mdash;so very
+glad! When did he come? Why did you not send for me?
+My dear old friend, how happy you must be to get him back
+after all these years of watching and waiting!'</p>
+
+<p>A curiously sad expression crossed Mr. O'Brien's rugged face
+as Audrey spoke in her softest and most sympathetic voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, I am not denying that it is happiness to get the lad
+back,' he returned, in a slow, ruminative fashion, as though he
+found it difficult to shape his thoughts into words; 'but it is a
+mixed sort of happiness, too. Come in and sit down, Miss Ross&mdash;Mat
+has gone out for a prowl, as he calls it&mdash;and I will tell
+you how it all happened while Prissy sees to the tea;' and as
+Mrs. Baxter withdrew at this very broad hint, Mr. O'Brien
+drew up one of the old-fashioned elbow-chairs to the fire, and
+then, seating himself, took up his pipe from the hob, and looked
+thoughtfully into the empty bowl. 'Things get terribly mixed
+in this world,' he continued, 'and pleasures mostly lose their
+flavour before one has a chance of enjoying them. I am thinking
+that the father of the Prodigal Son did not find it all such
+plain sailing after the feast was over, and he had time to look
+into things more closely. That elder brother would not be the
+pleasantest of companions for many a long day; he would still
+have a sort of grudge, like my Prissy here.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I hope not!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">{279}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it is true, though. Human nature is human nature all
+the world over. But, there, I am teasing you with all this
+rigmarole; only I seem somehow confused, and as though I
+could not rightly arrange my thoughts. When did Mat come
+home? Well, it was three nights ago, and&mdash;would you believe
+it, Miss Ross?&mdash;it feels more like three weeks.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish you had written to me. I would have come to you
+before.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, that was what Prissy said; she was always bidding me
+take ink and paper. "There's Miss Ross ought to be told,
+father"&mdash;she was always dinning it into my ears; but somehow
+I could not bring myself to write. "Where's the hurry," I
+said to Prissy, "when Mat is a fixture here? I would rather
+tell Miss Ross myself." And I have had my way, too'&mdash;with
+a touch of his old humour&mdash;'and here we are, talking comfortably
+as we have been used to do; and that is better than a
+stack of letters.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey smiled. Whatever her private opinion might be,
+she certainly offered no contradiction. If she had been in his
+place, all her world should have heard of her prodigal's return,
+and should have been bidden to eat of the fatted calf; she
+would have called her friends and neighbours to rejoice with her
+over the lost one who had found his way home. Her friend's
+reticence secretly alarmed her. Would Vineyard Cottage be a
+happier place for its new inmate?</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it is better for you and me to be talking over it
+quietly,' he went on; 'and I am glad Mat took that restless
+turn an hour ago. You see, the place is small, and he has been
+used to bush-life; and after he has sat a bit and smoked one or
+two pipes, he must just go out and dig in the garden, or take
+his mile or two just to stretch his muscles; but he will be back
+by the time Prissy has got the tea.'</p>
+
+<p>'And he came back three nights ago?' observed Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay. We were going upstairs, Prissy and I; the girl had
+been in bed for an hour. I was just smoking my last pipe
+over the kitchen fire, as I like to do, when we heard a knock at
+the door, and Prissy says to me:</p>
+
+<p>'"I expect that is Joshua Ruddock, father, and Jane has
+been taken bad, and they cannot get the nurse in time." For
+Prissy is a good soul at helping any of her neighbours, and
+sometimes one or other of them will send for her to sit up with
+a sick wife or child. And then she goes to the door, while I
+knock the ashes out of my pipe. But the next moment she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">{280}</a></span>
+gave a sort of screech, and I made up my mind that it was that
+rascal Joe asking for a night's lodging&mdash;not that he would ever
+have slept under my roof again. I confess I swore to myself a
+bit softly when I heard Prissy fly out like that.</p>
+
+<p>'"Father," she says again, "here is a vagrant sort of man,
+and he says he is Uncle Mat."</p>
+
+<p>'"And she won't believe me, Tom; so you had better come
+and look at me yourself;" and, sure enough, I knew the lad's
+voice before I got a sight of his face.</p>
+
+<p>'I give you my word, Miss Ross,' he continued, somewhat
+huskily, 'I hardly know how I got to the door, for my limbs
+seemed to have no power.</p>
+
+<p>'"Do you think I don't know your voice, lad?" I said;
+and, though it was dark, I got hold of him and pulled him
+into the light.</p>
+
+<p>'We were both of us white and shaking as we stood there,
+but he looked me in the face with a pitiful sort of smile.</p>
+
+<p>'"I could not stand it any longer, Tom," he said; "I
+suppose it was home-sickness; but it would have killed me
+in time. I have not got a creature in the world belonging to
+me. Will you and Susan take me in?" And then, with a
+laugh, though there were tears in his eyes: "I am precious
+tired of the husks, old chap."</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I did not seem to have my answer ready; for I
+was fairly choked at the sight of his changed face, and those
+poor, pitiable words. But he did not misunderstand me, and
+when I took his arm and pushed him into a chair by the fire,
+he looked round the place in a dazed kind of way.</p>
+
+<p>'"Where's Susan?" he asked. "I hope she is not sick,
+Tom." And with that he did break me down; for the thought
+of how Susan would have welcomed him&mdash;not standing aloof
+as Prissy was doing&mdash;and how she would have heartened us
+up, in her cheery way, was too much for me, and I fairly cried
+like a child.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I knew it was my lad&mdash;in spite of his gray hairs&mdash;when
+he cried, too&mdash;just for company. Mat had always a
+kind heart and way with him.</p>
+
+<p>'"I never thought of this, Tom," he said, when we were
+a bit better. "All to-day Susan's face has been before me
+bonnie and smiling, as I last saw it. Prissy there is not much
+like her mother. And so she is in her coffin, poor lass! Well,
+you are better off than me, Tom, for you have got Prissy there
+to look after you, and I have neither wife nor children."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">{281}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'"Do you mean they are gone?" I asked, staring at him;
+and he nodded in a grim, sorrowful kind of way.</p>
+
+<p>'"I have lost them all. There, we won't talk about that
+just yet. What is it Susan used to say when the children
+died? 'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.'
+Those are pious words, Tom." And then he looked at me a
+bit strangely.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it was Prissy who interrupted us, by asking if Mat
+wanted food. And then it turned out that he was 'most
+starving.</p>
+
+<p>'"I think I was born to ill-luck, Tom," he went on; "for
+some scamp or other robbed me of my little savings as soon as
+I reached London, and I had to make shift to pay my fare
+down here. It is a long story to tell how I found you out.
+I went to the old place first, and they sent me on here. I had
+a drop of beer and a crust at the Three Loaves, and old Giles,
+the ostler, knew me and told me a long yarn about you and
+Prissy."</p>
+
+<p>'And then we would not let him talk any more. And
+when he was fed and warmed Prissy made up a bed for him,
+for we saw he was nearly worn out, and there was plenty of
+time for hearing all he had to tell us.</p>
+
+<p>'But I could not help going into his room before I turned
+in, for there came over me such a longing to see Mat's face
+again&mdash;though it was not the old face. And I knew my
+bright, handsome lad would never come back. Well, he was
+not asleep, for he turned on his pillow when he saw me.</p>
+
+<p>'"If one could only have one's life again!" he said&mdash;and
+there was a catch in his voice. "I could not sleep for thinking
+of it. I have shamed you, Tom, and I have shamed all that
+belonged to me; and many and many a time I have longed to
+die and end it all, but something would not let me. I was
+always a precious coward. Why, I tried to shoot myself once;
+but I could not do it, I bungled so. That was when things
+were at the worst; but I never tried again, so don't look so
+scared, old chap!"</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it was terrible to hear him talk like that, of throwing
+his life away, and I said a word or two to show what
+I thought of it; but he would not listen.</p>
+
+<p>'"Don't preach, Tom: you were always such a hand at
+preaching; but I will tell you something you may care to
+hear. It was when I was out in the bush. I had been down
+with a sort of fever, and had got precious low. Well, it came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">{282}</a></span>
+over me one day as I was alone in the hut, that, if that sort
+of life went on, I should just lose my reason; for the loneliness,
+and the thought of the prison life, and all the evil I had done,
+and the way I had thrown aside my chances, seemed crowding
+in upon my mind, and I felt I must just blow my brains out,
+and I knew I should do it this time; and then all at once the
+thought came to me: 'Why not go to Tom? Tom and Susan
+are good sort; they won't refuse a helping hand to a poor
+wretch;' and the very next day I packed up my traps and
+started for Melbourne."</p>
+
+<p>'"My lad," I said, "it was just Providence that put that
+thought in your head;" and then I left him, for my heart
+was too full to talk, except to my Maker. But I dreamt
+that night that Susan came to me, and that we stood together
+by Mat's bedside looking down at him while he slept.</p>
+
+<p>'"He looks old and gray," I heard her say quite distinctly;
+"but he will grow young again beside my Tom." And then
+she looked at me so gently and sighed: "Be patient with him;
+he is very unhappy," and then I woke.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I hope you told him that dream!'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, I did. I told him a power of things about Susan and
+myself and Prissy, and he never seemed tired of listening;
+but after that first evening he did not open out much of his
+own accord. He told us a few things, mostly about his bush-life,
+and where he went when he got his ticket-of-leave; but
+somehow he seemed to dislike talking about himself, and after
+I had questioned him pretty closely, he suddenly said:</p>
+
+<p>'"Look here, old chap: I don't mean to be rough on you,
+but I have grown used to holding my tongue during the last
+few years. What is the use of raking up bygones? Do you
+suppose I am so proud of my past life that I care to talk about
+it? Why can we not start afresh? You know me for what
+I am, the good-for-nothing Mat O'Brien. I know I am no
+fit companion for you and Prissy; and if you tell me to go, I
+will shift my quarters without a reproachful word. Shall I
+go, Tom?"</p>
+
+<p>'"No," I said, almost shouting at him, and snapping my
+pipe in two; "you will just stay where you are, lad. Do you
+think I will ever suffer you to wander off again?" And then,
+as he looked at me very sadly, I opened the big Bible we had
+been reading in that morning, and showed him the verse that
+was in my thoughts that moment: "The Lord do so to me,
+and more also, if aught but death part me and thee."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">{283}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'"Do you mean that, Tom?" and his voice was rather
+choky.</p>
+
+<p>'"Ay, I do," was my answer. And then he gripped my
+hand without speaking, and went out of the room, and we did
+not see him for an hour or two. And that is about all I have
+to tell you, Miss Ross.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, old friend,' returned Audrey gently.</p>
+
+<p>And she looked reverently into the thoughtful face beside
+her. The rugged, homely features were beautified to her. He
+was only a small tradesman, yet what nobleman could show
+more tender chivalry to the fallen man who had brought disgrace
+on his honest name? In her heart Audrey knew there
+was no truer gentleman than this simple, kindly Tom O'Brien.</p>
+
+<p>'There's Mat,' he observed presently; and Audrey roused
+herself and looked anxiously at the door.</p>
+
+<p>She was longing, yet dreading, to see this much-loved
+prodigal. Priscilla's description of 'a vagrant sort of man'
+had somewhat alarmed her, and she feared to see the furtive
+look and slouching gait that so often stamp the man who has
+taken long strides on the downward path.</p>
+
+<p>She was greatly surprised, therefore, when a tall, fine-looking
+man, with closely-cropped gray hair and a black moustache,
+came quickly into the room. On seeing a young lady he was
+about to withdraw; but his brother stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't go away, lad. This is Miss Ross, the young lady
+who I told you was with Susan when she died.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I am very glad to welcome you back, Mr. O'Brien,'
+observed Audrey cordially, as she held out her hand.</p>
+
+<p>Mat O'Brien reddened slightly as he took the offered hand
+with some reluctance, and then stood aside rather awkwardly.
+He only muttered something in reply to his brother's question
+of how far he had walked.</p>
+
+<p>'I think I will go to Priscilla,' he said, with a touch of
+sullenness that was mere shyness and discomfort. 'Don't let
+me interrupt you and this young lady, Tom.' And before Mr.
+O'Brien could utter a remonstrance, he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid I am in the way,' suggested Audrey. 'Perhaps
+your brother does not like to see people. It is growing dark,
+so I may as well start at once. Mr. Blake has promised to
+meet me, so I shall not have a solitary walk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nay, you must not go without your cup of tea,' returned
+the old man, rubbing up his hair in a vexed manner; 'I hear
+Prissy clattering with the cups. Don't fash your head about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">{284}</a></span>
+the lad; he is a bit shamed of looking honest folk in the face;
+but we'll get him over that. Sit you down, and I will fetch
+him out of the kitchen.' And without heeding her entreaties
+to be allowed to go, Mr. O'Brien hurried her into the next room,
+where the usual bountiful meal was already spread, and where
+Mrs. Baxter awaited them with an injured expression of face.</p>
+
+<p>'I think father has gone clean daft over Uncle Mat,' she
+observed, as Mr. O'Brien departed on his quest. 'Draw up to
+the table, Miss Ross. Father will be back directly; but he
+won't touch a mouthful until he sees Uncle Mat in his usual
+place; he fashes after him from morning to night, and can
+hardly bear him out of his sight. It is "Mat, come here, alongside
+of me," or "Try this dish of Prissy's, my lad," until you
+would think there was not another person in the house. It is
+a bit trying, Miss Ross, I must confess; though I won't fly in
+the face of Providence, and say I am not glad that the sinner
+has come home. But there, one must have one's trials; and
+Heaven knows I have had a plentiful share of thorns and briars
+in my time!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sorry to hear you speak like this, Mrs. Baxter. I
+was hoping that you would rejoice in Mr. O'Brien's happiness.
+Think how he has longed for years to see his brother's face
+again!'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Baxter shook her head mournfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, Miss Ross; but the best of us are poor ignorant
+creatures, and, maybe, the blessings we long for will turn to a
+curse in the end. I doubt whether our little cottage will be
+the restful place it was before Uncle Mat came home. He has
+gone to a bad school to learn manners; and wild oats and
+tares and the husks that the swine did eat are poor crops, after
+all, Miss Ross,' finished Priscilla a little vaguely.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey bent over her plate to conceal a smile; but she was
+spared the necessity of answering, as just then the two men
+entered.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first meal that Audrey had failed to enjoy at
+Vineyard Cottage; and notwithstanding all her efforts to second
+Mr. O'Brien's attempt at cheerfulness, she felt that she failed
+most signally. Neither of them could induce Mat O'Brien to
+enter into conversation; his gloomy silence or brief monosyllabic
+replies compelled even his brother at last to desist from any
+such attempt.</p>
+
+<p>Now and then Audrey stole a furtive glance at him as he sat
+moodily looking out into the twilight. The handsome lad was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">{285}</a></span>
+still a good-looking man; but the deep-seated melancholy in the
+dark eyes oppressed Audrey almost painfully: there was a
+hopelessness in their expression that filled her with pity.</p>
+
+<p>Why had he let that one failure, that sad lapse from honesty,
+stamp his old life with shame? Had he not expiated his sin?
+Why was he so beaten down and crushed with remorse and
+suffering that he had only longed to end an existence that
+seemed God-forsaken and utterly useless? And then, half
+unconsciously, she noted the one serious defect in his face&mdash;the
+weak, receding chin; and she guessed that the mouth hidden
+under the heavy moustache was weak too.</p>
+
+<p>'I will not ask you what you think of Mat to-night,' observed
+Mr. O'Brien, as he accompanied Audrey to the gate; 'he has
+not been used to a lady's company, and he has grown into silent
+ways, living so much alone.'</p>
+
+<p>'He looks terribly unhappy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, poor chap, he is unhappy enough; he has got a load
+on his heart that he is carrying alone. Sometimes it makes my
+heart ache, Miss Ross, to see him sitting there, staring into the
+fire, and fetching up a sigh now and then. But there, as Susan
+says, "The heart knoweth its own bitterness"; but if ever a
+man is in trouble, Mat is that man.'</p>
+
+<p>And Audrey felt that her old friend was right.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">{286}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2>
+
+<h3>'WILL YOU CALL THE GUARD?'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Plead guilty at man's bar, and go to judgment straight;</div>
+<div class="verse">At God's no other way remains to shun that fate.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Archbishop Trench.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Captain Burnett had settled his business, and was returning
+again to Rutherford after more than a month's absence. He
+would willingly have lingered in town longer. Lonely as his
+bachelor quarters were, he felt he was safer in them than in
+his cosy rooms under his cousin's roof, where every hour of the
+day exposed him to some new trial, and where the part he
+played was daily becoming more difficult. In town he could
+at least be free; he had no need to mask his wretchedness, or
+to pretend that he was happy and at ease. No demands, trying
+to meet, were made on his sympathy; no innocently loving
+looks claimed a response. At least, the bare walls could tell
+no tales, if he sat for long hours brooding over a future that
+looked grim and desolate.</p>
+
+<p>And he was a rich man. Heavens! what mockery! And
+yet how his friends would have crowded round him if they had
+known it! Comfort&mdash;nay, even luxury&mdash;was within his power;
+he could travel, build, add acre to acre; he could indulge in
+philanthropic schemes, ride any hobby. And yet, though he
+knew this, the thought of his gold seemed bitter as the apples of
+Sodom.</p>
+
+<p>It had come too late. Ah, that was the sting&mdash;his poverty
+had been the gulf between him and happiness, and he had not
+dared to stretch his hand across it to the woman he loved;
+and now, when his opportunity had gone and he had lost her
+irrevocably, Fate had showered these golden gifts upon him, as
+though to bribe him as one bribes children with some gilded
+toy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">{287}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Was it a wonder that, as he sat trying to shape that dreary
+future of his, his heart was sore within him, and that now and
+again the thought crossed him that it might have been well for
+him if his battered body could have been laid to rest with those
+other brave fellows in Zululand? And then he remembered how
+Kester had once told him that he must be the happiest man
+in the world. He had never quite forgotten that boyish outburst.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you see the difference?' he could hear him say. 'I
+have got this pain to bear, and no good comes of it; it is just
+bearing, and nothing else. But you have suffered in saving
+other men's lives; it is a kind of ransom. It must be happiness
+to have a memory like that!'</p>
+
+<p>Was he suffering for nothing now? Would any good to
+himself or others come from a pain so exquisite, so rife with
+torture&mdash;a pain so strongly impregnated with fear and doubt
+that he scarcely dared own it to himself? Only now and again
+those few bitter words would escape his lips:</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my darling, what a mistake! Will you ever find it
+out before it is too late?' And then, with a groan, he would
+answer, as though to himself: 'Never! never!'</p>
+
+<p>Old habits are strong, and it was certainly absence of mind
+that made Captain Burnett take his usual third-class ticket;
+and he had seated himself and dismissed his porter before he
+bethought himself that the first-class compartment was now
+within his means.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had told him laughingly that such creature comforts
+were dear to him&mdash;that he was a man who loved the best of
+things, to whom the loaves and fishes of bare maintenance were
+not enough without adding to them the fine linen and dainty
+appendages of luxury; and he had not contradicted her. But,
+all the same, he knew that he would have been willing to live
+in poverty until his life's end if he could only have kept her
+beside him.</p>
+
+<p>Happily, the third-class compartment was empty, and he
+threw himself back in the farthest corner, and, taking out his
+Baedeker, began to plan what he called his summer's campaign&mdash;a
+tour he was projecting through Holland and Belgium, and
+which was to land him finally in the Austrian Tyrol. He
+would work his way later to Rome and Florence and Venice,
+and he would keep Norway for the following year; and he
+would travel about in the desultory, dilettante sort of fashion
+that suited him best now. He would probably go to America,
+and see Niagara and all the wonders of the New World, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">{288}</a></span>
+was so young and fresh in its immensity. Indeed, he would go
+anywhere and everywhere, until his trouble became a thing of
+the past, and he had strength to live and work for the good of
+his fellow-creatures; but he felt that such work was not possible
+to him just yet.</p>
+
+<p>Michael studied his Baedeker in a steady business-like way.
+He had made up his mind that to brood over an irreparable
+misfortune was unworthy of any man who acknowledged himself
+a Christian&mdash;that any such indulgence would weaken his
+moral character and make him unfit for his duties in life. The
+sorrow was there, but there was no need to be ever staring it
+in the face; as far as was possible, he would put it from him,
+and do the best for himself and others.</p>
+
+<p>Michael's stubborn tenacity of purpose brought its own
+reward, for he was soon so absorbed in mapping out his route
+that he was quite startled at hearing the porters shouting
+'Warnborough!' and the next moment the door was flung
+open, and a shabbily-dressed man, with the gait and bearing of
+a soldier, entered the compartment, and, taking the opposite
+corner to Michael, unfolded his paper and began to read.</p>
+
+<p>Michael glanced at him carelessly. He was rather a good-looking
+man, he thought, with his closely-cropped gray hair and
+black moustache; but his scrutiny proceeded no further, for
+just then he caught sight of a familiar face and figure on the
+platform that made him shrink back into his corner, and wish
+that he, too, had a newspaper, behind which he could hide himself.</p>
+
+<p>There was no mistaking that slim, graceful figure and the
+little, close black bonnet. There was something about Mrs.
+Blake which he would have recognised a quarter of a mile off.
+By Jove! she was coming towards his compartment. Her
+hands were full of parcels, and she was asking a gray-headed
+old gentleman to open the door for her&mdash;how handsome and
+bright and alert she looked, as she smiled her acknowledgment!
+The old gentleman looked back once or twice&mdash;even old fogeys
+have eyes for a pretty woman&mdash;but Mrs. Blake was too busy
+arranging her parcels in the rack to notice the impression she
+had made.</p>
+
+<p>If only he had had that newspaper he might have pretended
+that he was asleep; but when the parcels were in their place
+she would see him. There was nothing for him but to take
+the initiative.</p>
+
+<p>'Let me put that up for you, Mrs. Blake;' and at the
+sound of his voice she turned round.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">{289}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In a moment he knew that she was not pleased to see him&mdash;that
+if she had discovered that he was there, nothing would
+have induced her to enter the compartment. It was his
+extraordinary quickness of intuition that made him know this,
+and the sudden shade that crossed her face when he addressed
+her. Underneath Mrs. Blake's smooth speeches and charm of
+manner he had always been conscious of some indefinable
+antagonism to himself; as he had once told Geraldine, there
+was no love lost between them. 'In a ladylike way, she
+certainly hates me,' he had said.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me, Captain Burnett, how you startled me! I
+thought there were only strangers in the carriage. Thank you;
+that parcel is rather heavy. I have been shopping in Warnborough
+and am terribly laden; I hope Cyril will meet me&mdash;if
+the omnibus be not at the station, I must certainly take a
+fly. I had no idea you were coming back until to-morrow.
+Kester certainly said to-morrow. How delighted he will be,
+dear boy, when I tell him I have seen you!'</p>
+
+<p>'The christening will be to-morrow, you know, and I have
+to stand sponsor to my small cousin.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, to be sure! How stupid of me to forget! and yet
+Mollie told me all about it. It is very soon&mdash;baby is only a
+month old, is he not? But I hear Mrs. Harcourt is not to be
+allowed to go to the church.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; so Audrey tells me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think that a pity. When my children were christened I
+was always with them. To be sure, both Kester and Mollie
+were two months old at least. What is your opinion, Captain
+Burnett&mdash;you are a strict Churchman, I know&mdash;ought not the
+mother to be there as a matter of course?'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake spoke in a soft voice, with her usual engaging
+air of frankness, but Michael's answer was decidedly stiff. Of
+all things he hated to be entrapped into a theological argument,
+but he would not compromise truth.</p>
+
+<p>'I think there is one thing even more desirable than the
+mother's presence,' he returned quickly, 'and that is that these
+little heathens be made Christians as soon as possible; and I
+think Harcourt is perfectly right to have his son baptized
+without exposing his wife to any risk.'</p>
+
+<p>'And she is still so delicate, as dear Audrey tells me. She
+was up at Hillside last evening, and Cyril fetched her. My
+boy is a most devoted lover, Captain Burnett.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cela va sans dire,' returned Michael lightly&mdash;he may be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">{290}</a></span>
+forgiven for regarding this speech in the worst possible taste&mdash;and
+then he stopped, attracted by a singular action on the part
+of their fellow-passenger.</p>
+
+<p>He had put down his paper, and was leaning forward a
+little in his seat, and staring intently into Mrs. Blake's face.</p>
+
+<p>'Good God, it is Olive!' he muttered. 'As I live, it is
+Olive herself!' and then he threw out both his hands in a
+strange, appealing sort of way, and his face was very pale.
+'Olive,' he went on, and there was something strained and
+pitiful in his voice, as though pleading with her; 'how am I to
+sit and hear you talk about the little chaps and take no notice?
+How am I to mind my promise and not speak to my own
+wife?'</p>
+
+<p>Michael gave a violent start, but he had no time to speak,
+for Mrs. Blake suddenly clutched his arm with a stifled scream;
+she looked so ghastly, so beside herself with terror, that he
+could not help pitying her.</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Burnett,' she gasped, 'will you stop the train?
+I will not travel any longer with this madman. I shall die if
+I am in this carriage a moment longer. Don't you see he is
+mad? Will you call the guard? I&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;' She sank down,
+unable to articulate another syllable.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Burnett hardly knew how to act. They would
+reach the station for Rutherford in another quarter of an hour.
+He knew the man opposite him was no more mad than he was&mdash;there
+was no insanity in those deep-set, melancholy eyes,
+only intense pain and sadness. The very sound of his voice
+brought instant conviction to Michael's mind that he was
+speaking the truth. Whatever mystery lay beneath his
+words, he and Mrs. Blake were not strangers to each other&mdash;her
+very terror told him that.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake,' he said, endeavouring to soothe her, 'there is
+nothing to fear. Do try to be reasonable. No one could
+molest you while you are under my protection. Perhaps this
+gentleman,' with a quick glance at the man's agitated face and
+shabby coat, 'may have made some mistake. You may
+resemble some friend of his.'</p>
+
+<p>'No fear of that,' interposed the man sullenly, and now
+there was an angry gleam in his eyes that alarmed Michael;
+'a man can't mistake his own wife, even if he has not seen her
+for fifteen or sixteen years. I will take my oath before any
+court of justice that that is my lawful wedded wife, Olive
+O'Brien.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">{291}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake uttered another faint scream, and covered her
+face with her hands. She was shaking as though in an ague fit.</p>
+
+<p>'I assure you, you must have made some mistake,' replied
+Michael civilly; 'this lady's name is Blake: she and her family
+are well known to me. If you like, I will give you my card,
+if you should wish to satisfy yourself by making further
+inquiries; but, as you must see, it is only a case of mistaken
+identity.'</p>
+
+<p>If Michael spoke with the intent of eliciting further facts,
+he was not wholly unsuccessful.</p>
+
+<p>'It is nothing of the kind,' returned the man roughly;
+'don't I tell you it is no mistake. I can't help what she calls
+herself. If she has taken another husband, I'll have the law
+of her and bring her to shame; she has only one husband and
+his name is Matthew O'Brien.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good heavens! do you mean that Thomas O'Brien, of
+Vineyard Cottage, is your brother?' And as Michael put
+this question he felt the plot was thickening.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. Tom, poor old chap! is my brother; but he knows
+nought about Olive and the young ones. He thinks they are
+dead. I told him I had lost them all. Has she not been
+talking about them&mdash;Cyril and Kester and my little Mollie!'
+And here there were tears in Matthew O'Brien's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush!' interposed Michael; 'don't say any more. Don't
+you see she has fainted? Will you move away a moment,
+that she may not see you? Open the window; make a
+thorough draught.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael was doing all that he could for Mrs. Blake's
+comfort. He loosened her bonnet-strings and made his rug
+into a pillow, and, taking out his brandy flask, moistened her
+white lips. However she had sinned, he felt vaguely, as he
+knelt beside her, that hers would be a terrible expiation.
+Mat O'Brien stood a little behind, talking half to himself and
+half to Michael.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, he is a handy chap,' he soliloquised; 'he must have
+a wife of his own, I'm thinking. Poor lass! she does look
+mortal bad. I have frighted her pretty nearly to death, but
+it is her own fault. I never would have hurt a hair of her
+head. She is as handsome as ever, and as hard-hearted, too.
+I used to tell her she was made of stone&mdash;not a bit of love,
+except for the children. She is coming to, sir,' he continued
+excitedly; 'I was half afraid she was dead, lying so still.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, she is recovering consciousness,' replied Michael quietly;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">{292}</a></span>
+'but it is rather a serious fainting fit, and I must ask you to
+leave her to me, Mr. O'Brien. There is my card. I shall be
+at Rutherford, and will try to see you to-morrow&mdash;no, not to-morrow,
+there is the christening&mdash;but the next day. I will
+come over to Vineyard Cottage; there, we are stopping. Please
+send a porter to me.' And then Michael turned again to his
+patient.</p>
+
+<p>She had opened her eyes and was looking at him as though
+she were dazed. 'Where am I? what has happened? why are
+you giving me brandy, Captain Burnett?'</p>
+
+<p>'You have been ill,' he returned coolly; 'are you subject to
+these fainting fits? I want you to try and stand, and then I
+will help you to my fly. Porter, will you take those parcels,
+please. Now, Mrs. Blake, do you think you can walk?'</p>
+
+<p>'I will try,' she replied in an exhausted voice, but just at
+that moment Mat O'Brien passed. 'Oh, I remember,' she
+gasped; 'the madman! It was he who frightened me so,
+Captain Burnett,' looking at him with a return of the old terror
+in her face and a sort of wildness in her eyes. 'You did not
+believe that improbable story? How can I, a widow, have a
+living husband?' And she laughed hysterically.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you permit me to assist you?' was Michael's sole
+answer, as he lifted her from the seat; 'can you fasten your
+bonnet? I was obliged to give you air.' But as her trembling
+hands could not perform the office, he was compelled to do it
+himself. 'Now you can come,' he went on in a quiet, authoritative
+voice, that was not without its effect on her, and half
+leading, half supporting her, he placed her at last safely in the
+fly. But as he seated himself beside her, and they drove off, in
+the gathering dusk of the March evening, he felt a cold hand
+grip his wrist.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Captain Burnett, do say that you did not believe him!'</p>
+
+<p>Michael was silent.</p>
+
+<p>'It was too utterly horrible, too improbable altogether!' she
+continued with a shudder; 'no man calling himself a gentleman
+ought to believe such an accusation against a woman.'</p>
+
+<p>Still silence.</p>
+
+<p>'If it should reach my boy's ear, he will be ready to kill him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake, will you listen to me a moment, for your
+children's sake. I desire to stand your friend.'</p>
+
+<p>'And not for my sake&mdash;not for the sake of a lonely, misjudged
+woman?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' he returned coldly; 'I will confess the truth: it is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">{293}</a></span>
+best. In our hearts we are not friends, you and I. From the
+first I have mistrusted you. I have always felt there was
+something I could not understand. Friends do not have these
+feelings; but, all the same, I wish to help you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that is kind; and now I do not mind your hard words.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I must help you in my own way. To-morrow I shall
+come to you, and you must tell me the whole truth, and whether
+this man Matthew O'Brien be your husband or not.'</p>
+
+<p>'I tell you&mdash;' she began excitedly, but he checked her very
+gently.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush! Do not speak now; you will make yourself ill
+again.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes,' she said, falling back on her seat. 'I have palpitations
+still. I must not excite myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Just so; and to-morrow you will be calmer and more
+collected, and you will have made up your mind that the truth
+will be best because&mdash;&mdash;' he paused, as though not certain how
+to proceed.</p>
+
+<p>'Because of what?' she asked sharply; and he could detect
+strained anxiety in her tone.</p>
+
+<p>'Because it will be better for you to tell your story in your
+own way, far better than for me to hear it from Mr. O'Brien.'</p>
+
+<p>'You would go to him?' and there was unmistakable
+alarm in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Most certainly I would go to him. This is a very
+important matter to others as well as yourself, Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will kill myself,' she said wildly, 'before I tell any such
+story! You have no heart, Captain Burnett; you are treating
+me with refined cruelty; you want to bring me to shame because
+you hate me, and because&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But again he checked her:</p>
+
+<p>'Do not exhaust yourself with making all these speeches;
+you will need all your strength. I will come to you to-morrow
+evening, and if you will tell me the truth I will promise to help
+you as far as possible. Surely at such a crisis you will not
+refuse such help as I may be able to offer you, if only&mdash;&mdash;' he
+paused, and there was deep feeling in his voice, 'for your
+children's sake.'</p>
+
+<p>But though he could hear her sob as though in extremity of
+anguish, she made him no answer, nor could he induce her to
+speak again until they reached the Gray Cottage, where the fly
+stopped, and he got out and assisted her to alight. She kept
+her face averted from him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">{294}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I will be with you to-morrow,' he repeated, as he touched
+her hand.</p>
+
+<p>But to this there was no audible reply; she only bowed her
+head as she passed through the gate he held open for her, and
+disappeared from his sight.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">{295}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2>
+
+<h3>'I DID NOT LOVE HIM'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'When a man begins to do wrong, he cannot answer for himself how
+far he may be carried on. He does not see beforehand; he cannot know
+where he will find himself after the sin is committed. One false step
+forces him to another.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Newman.</span></p>
+
+<p>'An Italian proverb, too well known, declares that if you would succeed
+you must not be too good.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Emerson.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Audrey found Michael strangely uncommunicative that evening;
+he hardly responded to her expressions of pleasure at seeing him
+again, and all her questions were answered as briefly as possible.
+His manner was as kind as ever; indeed, he spoke to her with
+more than his usual gentleness; but during dinner he seemed to
+find conversation difficult, and all her little jokes fell flat. She
+wanted to know how many pretty things he had bought, and if
+he had put down his name for the proof engraving of a certain
+picture he had longed to possess.</p>
+
+<p>'Twenty guineas is nothing to you now, Michael,' she
+observed playfully.</p>
+
+<p>'No, I forgot all about the picture,' he returned, starting
+up from his chair; 'but I have brought you a present.'</p>
+
+<p>And the next moment he put in her hand a little case.
+When Audrey opened it, there was a small cross studded with
+diamonds of great beauty and lustre, and the whole effect was
+so sparkling and dainty that Audrey quite flushed with surprise
+and pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, mother, look how beautiful! But, Michael, how dare
+you waste your money on me; this must have cost a fortune!'
+And then she added a little thoughtfully, 'I am afraid Cyril
+will be sorry when he sees this; he is always lamenting that he
+cannot give me things.'</p>
+
+<p>'I chose a bracelet for Geraldine,' he returned carelessly, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">{296}</a></span>
+though buying diamonds were an everyday business with him.
+'Would you like to see it?' and he showed her the contents of
+the other case. 'I have a small offering for my godson in the
+shape of the inevitable mug, and I mean to give this to Leonard's
+mamma.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is very handsome; mother thinks so: don't you, mother?
+and Gage is devoted to bracelets; but I like mine ever so much
+better; it is the very perfection of a cross, and I shall value it,
+ah, so dearly, Michael!' and Audrey held out her hand as she
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Michael pressed it silently. It was little wonder, he
+thought, that Audrey liked her gift better than Geraldine's; it
+had cost at least three times as much; in fact, its value had
+been so great that he had written the cheque with some slight
+feeling of shame and compunction. 'There is no harm, after
+all, and she is so fond of diamonds,' he assured himself, as he
+put the little case in his pocket; 'she will not know what it
+cost me, and he will never be able to buy ornaments for her&mdash;I
+may as well give myself this pleasure;' and just for
+the moment it did please him to see her delight over the
+ornament.</p>
+
+<p>'It is not so much the diamonds that please me, as Michael's
+kindness and generosity,' she said to Cyril the next day. 'He
+has bought nothing for himself, and yet he has been in town a
+whole month; he only thought of us.'</p>
+
+<p>And Cyril observed quietly, as he closed the case, that it was
+certainly very kind of Captain Burnett; but a close observer
+would have said that Michael's generosity had not quite pleased
+him.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose you will wear this to-night at the Charringtons'?'
+he asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and those lovely flowers you have brought me,' she
+added, with one of her charming smiles; and somehow the
+cloud passed in a moment from the young man's brow.</p>
+
+<p>What did it matter, after all, that he could not give her
+diamonds? Had he not given himself to her, and did they
+not belong to each other for time and for eternity? And as he
+thought this he took her in his arms with a loving speech.</p>
+
+<p>'You are sweet as the very sweetest of my flowers,' he said,
+holding her close to him. 'You are the very dearest thing in
+the world to me, Audrey; and sometimes, when I think of the
+future, I am almost beside myself with happiness.'</p>
+
+<p>When the little excitement of the diamonds was over,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">{297}</a></span>
+Michael relapsed again into gravity, and he was still grave when
+he went up to Hillside the next day. A wakeful night's reflection
+had brought him no comfort; he felt as though a gulf
+were opening before him and those whom he loved, and that
+he dared not, for very dread and giddiness, look into it.</p>
+
+<p>When they returned from church, and were about to sit
+down to the sumptuous luncheon, he took Geraldine aside and
+presented his offerings. To his surprise, she was quite overcome,
+and would have called her husband to share her pleasure;
+but he begged her to say nothing just then.</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey has a present, too, but she took it far more
+calmly,' he said, in a rallying tone. But as he spoke he
+wondered at his cousin's beauty. Her complexion had always
+been very transparent, but now excitement had added a soft
+bloom. Was it motherhood, he asked himself, that deepened
+the expression of her eyes and lent her that new gentleness? 'I
+never saw you look better, Gage,' he said, in quite an admiring
+voice; but Geraldine was as unconscious as ever.</p>
+
+<p>'I am very well,' she returned, smiling, 'only not quite as
+strong as usual. It is such a pity that Percival would not
+allow me to invite you to dinner, because he says that I ought
+to be quiet this evening. He and mother make such a fuss
+over me. Percival means to take baby and me for a change
+during the Easter holidays. That will be nice, will it not? I
+think we shall go to Bournemouth.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very nice,' he returned absently.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish Audrey would go too, but I am afraid she will not
+leave Cyril; he is not going away this vacation. That is the
+worst of a sister being engaged, she is not half so useful.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think Audrey would go with you if you asked her; she
+is very unselfish.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but she has to think about someone else now, and I
+do not wish to be hard on Cyril. He is very nice, and we all
+like him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am very glad to hear that, Gage.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; we must just make the best of it. Of course,
+Percival and I will always consider she is throwing herself
+away; but that cannot be helped now. By the bye, Michael,
+this is the first time I have seen you since you came into your
+fortune. I have never been able to tell you how delighted we
+both were to hear of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it was a pretty good haul.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but no one will do more with it. But you must not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">{298}</a></span>
+buy any more diamonds;' and then she smiled on him. And
+just then Master Leonard made his appearance in his long lace
+robe, and, as Geraldine moved to take her boy in her arms,
+there was no further conversation between them.</p>
+
+<p>They left soon after luncheon. Mr. Bryce had to take an early
+afternoon train, and Dr. Ross accompanied him to the station.
+Audrey drove home with her mother; they expected Michael
+to follow them, but he had other business on hand. There
+was his interview with Mrs. Blake, and on leaving Hillside he
+went straight to the Gray Cottage.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie met him at the door. She looked disturbed and
+anxious.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; you are to go up to the drawing-room, Captain
+Burnett,' she said, when he asked if Mrs. Blake were at home.
+'Mamma is there. I heard her tell Biddy so. Do you know'&mdash;puckering
+up her face as though she were ready to cry&mdash;'mamma
+will not speak to any of us&mdash;not even to Cyril! She
+says she is ill, and that only Biddy understands her. It is so
+odd that she is able to see a visitor.'</p>
+
+<p>'What makes you think she is ill, Mollie?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, because she looked so dreadful when she came home
+last night; she could hardly walk upstairs, and Cyril was not
+there to help her. He was quite frightened when I told him,
+and went to her room at once; but her door was locked, and
+she said her head ached so that she could not talk. Biddy was
+with her then; we could hear her voice distinctly, and mamma
+seemed moaning so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Has she seen your brother this morning?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, just for a minute; but the room was darkened, and
+he could not see her properly. She told him that the pain had
+got on the nerves, and that she really could not bear us near
+her. But she would not let him send for a doctor, and Biddy
+seemed to agree with her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps she will be better to-morrow,' he suggested; and
+then he left Mollie and went upstairs. 'Poor little girl!' he
+said to himself; 'I wonder what she would say if she knew
+her father were living!'</p>
+
+<p>And then he tapped at the drawing-room door. He was
+not quite sure whether anyone bade him enter. Mrs. Blake
+was sitting in a chair drawn close to the fire; her back was
+towards him. She did not move or turn her head as he
+walked towards her, and when he put out his hand to her she
+took no notice of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">{299}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You have come,' she said, in a quick, hard voice. And
+then she turned away from him and looked into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I have come,' he replied quietly, as he sat down on
+the oak settle that was drawn up near her chair. 'I am sorry
+to see you look so ill, Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>He might well say so. She had aged ten years since the
+previous night. Her face was quite drawn and haggard&mdash;he
+had never before noticed that there were threads of gray in her
+dark hair&mdash;she had always looked so marvellously young; but
+now he could see the lines and the crows'-feet; and as his
+sharp eyes detected all this he felt very sorry for her.</p>
+
+<p>'Ill; of course I'm ill,' she answered irritably. 'All
+night long I have been wishing I were dead. I said yesterday
+that I would rather kill myself than tell you my story; but to-day
+I have thought better of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad of that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I am not a fool, and I know I am in your
+power&mdash;yours and that man's.' And here she shivered.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you tell me this one thing first? Is he&mdash;is Matthew
+O'Brien your husband?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I suppose so. I was certainly married to him
+once.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then, why, in the name of heaven, Mrs. Blake, do you
+allow people to consider you a widow?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because I am a widow,' she returned harshly. 'Because I
+have unmarried myself and given up my husband. Because I
+refused to have anything more to do with him&mdash;he brought me
+disgrace, and I hated him for it.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, pardon me, it is not possible&mdash;no woman can unmarry
+herself in this fashion&mdash;unless you mean&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>And here he stopped, feeling it impossible to put any such
+question to her. But what on earth could she mean?</p>
+
+<p>'No, I have not divorced him. I suppose, in one sense,
+he may still be regarded as my husband; but for fourteen
+years he has been dead to me, and I have called myself a
+widow.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you must have known it was wrong,' he returned, a
+little bewildered by these extraordinary statements. If she
+had not looked so wan and haggard, he would have accused her
+of talking wildly.</p>
+
+<p>'No, Captain Burnett; I do not own it was wrong.
+Under some circumstances a woman is bound to defend herself
+and her children&mdash;a tigress will brave a loaded gun if her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">{300}</a></span>
+young are starving. If it were to come over again, I would
+do the same. But I will acknowledge to you that I did not
+love my husband.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; that is evident.'</p>
+
+<p>'I never loved him, though I was foolish enough to marry
+him. I suppose I cared for him in a sort of way. He was
+handsome, and had soft, pleasant ways with him; and I was
+young and giddy, and ready for any excitement. But I had
+not been his wife three months before I would have given
+worlds to have undone my marriage.'</p>
+
+<p>'Was he a bad husband to you?'</p>
+
+<p>'No. Mat was always too soft for unkindness; but he was
+not the man for me. Besides, I had married him out of
+pique&mdash;there was someone I liked much better. You see, I
+am telling you all quite frankly. I am in your power, as I
+said before. If I refused to speak, you would just go to Mat,
+and he would tell you everything.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am very much relieved to find you so reasonable, Mrs.
+Blake. It is certainly wiser and better to tell me yourself.
+You have my promise that, as far as possible, I will give you
+my help; but at present I do not know how this may be.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I will tell you my story,' she answered. But there
+was a bitterness of antagonism in her tone as she said this.
+'I have always been afraid of you, Captain Burnett; I felt you
+disliked and mistrusted me, and I have never been easy with
+you. If it were not for Kester, and your kindness to him, I
+should be horribly afraid of you. But for Kester's sake you
+would not be hard on his mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'I would not be hard on any woman,' he answered quietly.
+'It is true I have mistrusted you. I told you so yesterday.
+But if you will confide in me, you shall not repent your confidence.'</p>
+
+<p>'You mean you will not be my enemy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am no woman's enemy,' he said a little proudly. 'I wish
+someone else had been in my place yesterday; you can understand
+it is not a pleasant business to ask these questions of a
+lady; but there are many interests involved, and I am like a
+son to Dr. Ross. I am bound to look into this matter more
+closely for his sake, and&mdash;&mdash;' he paused, and, if possible, Mrs.
+Blake turned a little pale.</p>
+
+<p>'Let me tell you quickly,' she said. 'Perhaps, after all,
+you will not blame me, and you will help me to keep it from
+Cyril.' And here she looked at him imploringly, and he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">{301}</a></span>
+see the muscles of her face quivering. 'No, I never loved Mat.
+I felt it was a condescension on my part to marry him. My
+people were well connected. One of my uncles was a dean,
+and another was a barrister. My father was a clergyman.'</p>
+
+<p>'What was his name?'</p>
+
+<p>'Stephen Carrick. He was Vicar of Bardley.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have heard of Dean Carrick; he wrote some book or
+other, and came into some notoriety before his death. Is it
+possible that you are his niece?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. I was very proud of him, and of my other uncle;
+but they would have nothing to do with me after my marriage.
+We were living in Ireland then, and when Mat brought me to
+London I seemed to have cut myself adrift from all my people.
+My father died not long afterwards, and my mother followed
+him, and my two brothers were at sea. I saw the name of
+Carrick in the papers one day&mdash;James Carrick&mdash;he was in the
+navy; so it must have been Jem. Well, he is dead, and, as
+far as I know, Charlie may be dead too.'</p>
+
+<p>She spoke with a degree of hardness that astonished him,
+but he would not interrupt her by a question. He saw that,
+for some reason of her own, she was willing to tell her story.</p>
+
+<p>'I soon found out my mistake when Mat brought me to
+London. From the first we were unfortunate; we had neither
+of us any experience. Our first landlady cheated us, and our
+lodgings were far too expensive for our means&mdash;my money had
+not then come to me. At my mother's death I was more
+independent.</p>
+
+<p>'I might have grown fonder of Mat but for one thing.
+Very shortly after our marriage&mdash;indeed, before the honeymoon
+was over&mdash;I discovered that he had already stooped to deceit.
+He had always led me to imagine that his people were well-to-do,
+and that his parentage was as respectable as mine; indeed,
+I understood that his only brother was a merchant, with considerable
+means at his disposal. I do not say Mat told me all
+this in words, but he had a way with him of implying things.</p>
+
+<p>'I was very proud&mdash;ridiculously proud, if you will&mdash;and I
+had a horror of trade. You may judge, then, the shock it was
+to me when I found out by the merest accident&mdash;from reading
+a fragment of a letter&mdash;that this brother was a corn-chandler
+in a small retail way.</p>
+
+<p>'We had our first quarrel then. Mat was very cowed and
+miserable when he saw how I took it; he wanted to coax me
+into forgiving his deceit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">{302}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'"I knew what a proud little creature you were, Olive," he
+said, trying to extenuate his shabby conduct, "and that there
+was no chance of your listening to me if you found out Tom
+was a tradesman. What does it matter about the shop? Tom
+is as good a chap as ever breathed, and Susan is the best-hearted
+woman in the world." But I would not be conciliated.</p>
+
+<p>'I would not go near his people, and when he mentioned
+their names I always turned a deaf ear. It is a bad thing when
+a woman learns to despise her husband; but from that day I
+took Mat's true measure, and my heart seemed to harden against
+him. Perhaps I did not go the right way to improve him or
+keep him straight, but I soon found out that I dared not rely
+on him.</p>
+
+<p>'I think I should have left him before the year was out,
+only my baby was born and took all my thoughts; and Mat
+was so good to me, that for very shame I dare not hint at such
+a thing. But we were not happy. His very fondness made
+things worse, for he was always reproaching me for my coldness.</p>
+
+<p>'"You are the worst wife that a man could have," he would
+say to me. "You would not care if I were brought home
+dead any day, and yet if the boy's finger aches you want to
+send for the doctor. If I go to the bad, it will be your own
+fault, because you never have a kind look or word for me."</p>
+
+<p>'But he might as well have spoken to the wind. There
+was no love for Mat in my heart, and I worshipped my boy.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are speaking now of your eldest son?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; of Cyril. He was my first-born, and I doted on him.
+I had two other children before Kester came; but, happily,
+they died&mdash;I say happily, for I had hard work to make ends
+meet with three children. I was so wrapped up in my boy that
+I neglected Mat more and more; and when he took to going
+out of an evening I made no complaints. We were getting on
+better then, and I seldom quarrelled with him, unless he refused
+to give me money for the children. Perhaps he was afraid to
+cross me, for the money was generally forthcoming when I
+asked for it; but I never took the trouble to find out how he
+procured it. And he was only too pleased to find me good-tempered
+and ready to talk to him, or to bring Cyril to play
+with him; for he was fond of the boy, too. Well, things
+went on tolerably smoothly until Mollie was born; but she was
+only a few months old when the crash came.'</p>
+
+<p>She stopped, and an angry darkness came over her face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">{303}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You need not tell me,' returned Michael, anxious to spare
+her as much as possible. 'I am aware of the forgery for
+which your husband incurred penal servitude for so many
+years.'</p>
+
+<p>'You know that!' she exclaimed, with a terrified stare.
+'Who could have told you? Oh, I forgot Mat's brother at
+Brail! Why did I never guess that Audrey's old friend she so
+often mentioned was this Tom O'Brien? But there are other
+O'Briens&mdash;there was one at Richmond when we lived there&mdash;and
+I thought he was still in his shop.'</p>
+
+<p>'We heard all the leading facts from him; he told Audrey
+everything.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you shall hear my part now,' she returned, with
+flashing eyes. 'What do you suppose were my feelings when
+I heard the news that Mat was in prison, and that my boy's
+father was a convicted felon? What do you imagine were
+my thoughts when I sat in my lodgings, with my children
+round me, knowing that this heritage of shame was on
+them?'</p>
+
+<p>'It was very bad for you,' he whispered softly, for her
+tragical aspect impressed him with a sense of grandeur. She
+was not good: by her own account she had been an unloving
+wife; but in her way she had been strong&mdash;only her strength
+had been for evil.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it was bad. I think for days I was almost crazed by
+my misfortunes; and then Mat sent for me. He was penitent,
+and wanted my forgiveness, so they told me.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you went?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I went. I had a word to say to him that needed
+an answer, and I was thankful for the opportunity to speak it.
+I dressed myself at once, and went to the prison. Cyril cried
+to come with me, and slapped me with his little hands when I
+refused to take him; but I only smothered him with kisses. I
+remember how he struggled to get free, and how indignant he
+was. "I don't love you one bit to-day, mamma! you are not
+my pretty mamma at all." But I only laughed at his childish
+pet&mdash;my bright, beautiful boy!&mdash;I can see him now.</p>
+
+<p>'Mat looked utterly miserable; but his wretchedness did
+not seem to touch me. The sin was his, and he must expiate
+it; it was I and my children who were the innocent sufferers.
+He began cursing himself for his mad folly, as he called it, and
+begged me over and over again to forgive him. I listened to
+him for a few minutes, and then I looked at him very steadily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">{304}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'"I will forgive you, Mat, and not say a hard word to you,
+if you will promise me one thing."</p>
+
+<p>'"And what is that?" he asked, seeming as though he
+dreaded my answer.</p>
+
+<p>'"That you will never try to see me or my children
+again."'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">{305}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>'SHALL YOU TELL HIM TO-NIGHT?'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Wouldst thou do harm, and still unharmed thyself abide?</div>
+<div class="verse">None struck another yet, except through his own side.</div>
+<div class="sep">******</div>
+<div class="verse">From our ill-ordered hearts we oft are fain to roam,</div>
+<div class="verse">As men go forth who find unquietness at home.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Trench.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Michael raised his eyes and looked attentively at the woman
+before him; but she did not seem to notice him&mdash;she was too
+much absorbed in her miserable recital.</p>
+
+<p>'I had made up my mind to say this to him from the
+moment I heard he was in prison&mdash;he should have nothing
+more to do with me and the children. It was for their sake I
+said it.</p>
+
+<p>'He shrank back as though I had stabbed him, and then he
+began reproaching me in the old way: "I had never loved
+him; from the first I had helped to ruin him by my coldness;
+he was the most wretched man on earth, for his own wife had
+deserted him;" but after a time I stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>'"It is too late to say all this now, Mat; you are quite
+right&mdash;I never loved you. I was mad to marry you; we
+have never been suited to each other."</p>
+
+<p>'"But I was fond of you. I was always fond of you,
+Olive."</p>
+
+<p>'But I answered him sternly:</p>
+
+<p>'"Then prove your affection, Mat, by setting me free. Let
+me go my way and you go yours, for as truly as I stand here I
+will never live with you again."</p>
+
+<p>'"But what will you do?" he asked; "oh, Olive, do not
+be so cruelly hard! There is Tom; he will take you and the
+children, and care for you all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">{306}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'But at the mention of his brother I lost all control over
+myself. Oh, I know I said some hard things then&mdash;I am not
+defending myself&mdash;and he begged me at last very piteously not
+to excite myself, and he would never mention Tom again; only
+he must know what I meant to do with myself and the children
+while he was working out his sentence.</p>
+
+<p>'"Then I will tell you," I replied; "for at least you have
+a right to know that, although from this day I will never
+acknowledge you as my husband. I will not go near your
+beggarly relations; but I have a little money of my own, as
+you know, though you have never been able to touch it. I will
+manage to keep the children on that."</p>
+
+<p>'Well, we talked&mdash;at least I talked&mdash;and at last I got him
+to promise that he would never molest me or the children
+again. Mat was always weak, and I managed to frighten him.
+I threatened to make away with myself and the children
+sooner than have this shame brought home to them, not that
+I meant it; but I was in one of my passionate moods, when
+anything seemed possible.</p>
+
+<p>'I told him what I meant to do, for I had planned it all in
+my head already. I would sell out all my money and change
+my investments, so that all clue should be lost; and I would
+take another name, and after a time the children should be told
+their father was dead. I would give myself out to be a widow,
+and in this way no disgrace would ever touch them. Would
+you believe it? Mat was so broken and penitent that he began
+to think that, after all, this would be best&mdash;that it would be
+kinder to me and the children to cut himself adrift from us.</p>
+
+<p>'I saw him again, and he gave me his promise. "You are a
+clever woman, Olive," he said; "you will do better for the
+youngsters than ever I could have done. I have brought disgrace
+on everyone belonging to me. If you would only have
+trusted to Tom!&mdash;but you will go your own gait. I dare not
+cross you; I never have dared, lest evil should come of it; but
+I think no woman ever had a colder heart."</p>
+
+<p>'"You have killed it, Mat," was my answer; and then I
+said good-bye to him, and we parted.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I took Biddy into my confidence; she was a faithful
+creature, and had been devoted to me since my childhood.
+She had accompanied me to England on my marriage, and had
+been my one comfort before the children were born. Strange
+to say, she had always disliked Mat, and if I had only listened
+to her, his wooing would have been unsuccessful.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">{307}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I found a lawyer who would do my business, and then I
+took a lodging at Richmond and called myself Mrs. Blake, and
+for a few years we lived quietly and comfortably.'</p>
+
+<p>'The investments had prospered, one especially was yielding
+a handsome dividend, so I was better off than I expected. I
+had got rid of some house property, and I put aside this money
+for my boy's education. I need not tell you that he was my
+one thought. Sometimes, when I saw him growing so fast,
+and looking so noble and handsome, my heart would quite
+swell with pride and happiness to think he was my son; and I
+forgot Mat and the past wretchedness, and only lived in and
+for him. My other children were nothing to me compared to
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you heard nothing of your husband?'</p>
+
+<p>'I tell you I had no husband; he was dead to me. Do
+you think I would allow a man like Mat to blight my boy's
+career&mdash;a poor creature, weak as water, and never able to keep
+straight; a man who could be cowed into giving up his own
+wife and children? I would have died a hundred times over
+before I would have let Cyril know that his father was a
+convict.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael held his peace, but he shuddered slightly as he
+thought of Audrey. 'They will make her give him up,' he said
+to himself.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I was happy then,' she went on. 'I always had an
+elastic temperament. I did not mind the poverty and shifts
+as long as Cyril was well and contented. I used to glory in
+giving up one little comfort after another, and stinting myself
+that he might have the books he needed when he was at Oxford.
+I used to live on his letters, and the day when he came home
+was a red-letter day.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you never trembled at the idea that one day you might
+come face to face with your husband?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no; such a thought never crossed my mind. I knew
+Mat too well to fear that he would hunt me out and make a
+scene. Another man would, in his place, but not Mat: he had
+always been afraid of me, and he dared not try it on. It was
+accident&mdash;mere accident&mdash;that made him cross my path yesterday.
+But I know I can manage him still, and you&mdash;you will
+not betray me, Captain Burnett?'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not understand you,' he returned, almost unable to
+believe his ears. Could she really think that he would make
+himself a party to her duplicity?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">{308}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I think my meaning is sufficiently clear,' she replied, as
+though impatient at his denseness. 'Now you have heard my
+story, you cannot blame me; under the circumstances, you must
+own that my conduct was perfectly justifiable.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not your judge, Mrs. Blake,' he answered quietly;
+'but in my opinion nothing could justify such an act of deception.
+None of us have any right to say, "Evil, be thou my
+good." When you deceived the world and your own children,
+by wearing widow's weeds, when all the time you knew you
+had a living husband, you were distinctly living a lie.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I glory in that lie!' she answered passionately.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not&mdash;do not!' he returned with some emotion; 'for it
+will bring you bitter sorrow. Do you think the son for whom
+you have sacrificed your integrity will thank you for it&mdash;&mdash;' But
+before he could finish his sentence a low cry, almost of
+agony, stopped him. Ah, he had touched her there.</p>
+
+<p>'You will kill me,' she gasped, 'if you only hint at such a
+thing! Captain Burnett, I will say I am sorry&mdash;I will say
+anything&mdash;if you will only help me to keep this thing from my
+boy. Will you go to Mat? Will you ask him, for all our
+sakes, to go away? He is not a bad man. When he hears
+about Cyril's prospects he will not spoil them by coming here
+and making a scene. I will see him if he likes&mdash;but I think
+it would be better not. Tell him if he wants money he shall
+have it: there is a sum I can lay my hands on, and Cyril will
+never know.'</p>
+
+<p>'You want me to bribe your husband to go away?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. You have promised to help me; and this is the only
+way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pardon me! There are limits to anything&mdash;an honest man
+cannot soil his hands with any such acts of deception. When
+I said I would help you, it was real help I meant&mdash;for good,
+and not for evil. I will not attempt to bribe your husband;
+neither will I stand by and see you blindfold your son.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she threw herself on her knees before him, with a
+faint cry for mercy. But he put her back in her seat, and
+then took her hands in his and held them firmly.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush! you must not do that. I will be as kind to you as
+I can. Do you think that my heart is not full of pity for you,
+in spite of your wrong-doing? Try to be reasonable and listen
+to me. I have only one piece of advice to give you. Tell your
+son everything, as you have told me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Never, never! I would die first.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">{309}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You do not know what you are saying,' he returned soothingly.
+'Do you think a son is likely to judge his own mother
+harshly? If I can find it in my heart to pity you, will your
+own flesh and blood be more hard than a stranger?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you do not know Cyril!' she replied with a shudder.
+'He is so perfectly truthful. I have heard him say once that
+nothing can justify a deception. In spite of his goodness, he
+can be hard&mdash;very hard. When Kester was a little boy, he
+once, told a lie to shield Mollie, and Cyril would not speak to
+him for days.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not say that he will not be shocked at first, and that
+you may not have to bear his displeasure. But it will be
+better&mdash;a hundred times better&mdash;for him to hear it from your
+own lips.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will never hear it,' she returned; and now she was weeping
+wildly. 'The story will never be told by me. How could
+I bear to hear him tell me that I had ruined him&mdash;that his
+prospects were blasted? Oh, have mercy upon a miserable
+woman, Captain Burnett! For the sake of my boy&mdash;for
+Kester's and Mollie's sake&mdash;help me to send Mat away!'</p>
+
+<p>He made no answer, only looked at her with the same steady
+gentleness. That look, so calm, yet so inexorable, left her no
+vestige of hope. A rock would have yielded sooner than
+Michael Burnett, and she knew it.</p>
+
+<p>'I was wrong to trust you,' she sobbed. 'You are a hard
+man&mdash;I always knew that; you will stand by and see us all
+ruined, and my boy breaking his heart with shame and misery,
+and you will not stretch out your hand to save us.'</p>
+
+<p>But he let this pass. Her very despair was making her
+reckless of her words.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake,' he said quietly, 'will you tell your son that
+he has a father living?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; I will not tell him!'</p>
+
+<p>Then Michael got up from his chair as though the interview
+were at an end. His movement seemed to alarm Mrs. Blake
+excessively.</p>
+
+<p>'You are not going? Do you mean that you are actually
+leaving me in this misery? Captain Burnett, I would not
+have believed you could be so cruel!'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no use in my staying. I cannot convince you that
+your best hope for the future is to throw yourself on your son's
+generosity. I regret that you will not listen to me&mdash;you are
+giving me a very painful task.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">{310}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then she started up and caught him by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that you will tell him?'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose so&mdash;somebody must do it; but I would rather
+cut off my right hand than do it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shall you tell him to-night?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, certainly not to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>'To-morrow?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, to-morrow or the next day; but I must speak to Mr.
+O'Brien and Dr. Ross first.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she left him without saying another word; but it
+went to his heart to see her cowering over the fire in her old
+miserable attitude.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake,' he said, following her, 'if you think better of
+this, will you write to me? Two or three words will be enough:
+"I will tell him myself" just that&mdash;&mdash;' but she made no reply.
+'I shall wait in the hope that I may receive such a note; a
+few hours' delay will not matter, and perhaps a little consideration
+may induce you to be brave. Remember, there is no
+wrong-doing except that of heinous and deadly sin that we may
+not strive to set right. It needs courage to confess to a
+fellow-creature, but love should give you this courage.'</p>
+
+<p>But still she did not move or speak, and he was forced to
+leave her. He found Biddy hovering about the dark passage,
+and he guessed at once that she had been a listener. A
+moment's consideration induced him to take the old woman by
+the shoulder and draw her into an empty room close by.</p>
+
+<p>She looked somewhat scared at his action. She had a
+candle in her hand, and he could see how furtively her wild,
+hawk-like eyes glanced at him.</p>
+
+<p>'Biddy, I know you are your mistress's trusted friend&mdash;that
+she confides in you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay.'</p>
+
+<p>'Use every argument in your power, then, to induce her to
+tell her son about his father.'</p>
+
+<p>'I dare not, sir; she would fly into one of her mad passions
+and strike me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good heavens!'</p>
+
+<p>'I have work enough with her sometimes; she has always
+had her tantrums from a child; but I'm used to them, and I
+know how to humour her. She will never tell Mr. Cyril; I
+know them both too well for that.'</p>
+
+<p>'You heard all I said, Biddy. You need not deny it. You
+have been listening at the door.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">{311}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'It is not me who would deny it,' she returned boldly; but
+there was a flush on her withered cheek. 'There is nothing
+that my mistress could say that she would wish to keep from
+me. I have been with her all her life. As a baby she slept
+in my bosom, and I loved her as my own child. Ah, it was an
+ill day for Miss Olive when she took up with that good-for-nothing
+Matthew O'Brien; bad luck to him and his!'</p>
+
+<p>'Nevertheless, he is her husband, Biddy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know about that, sir. I was never married myself,
+and fourteen years is a long absence. Aren't they more her
+children than his, when she has slaved and sacrificed herself
+for them? You meant it well, sir, what you said to the
+mistress; but I take the liberty of differing from you, and I
+would sooner bite my tongue out than speak the word that
+will bring them all to shame.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I must not look to you for help?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid not, sir. I am on my mistress's side.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are an obstinate old woman, Biddy, and I looked for
+better sense at your age.'</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, he shook her by the hand very kindly, and
+then she lighted him downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie came out of the dining-room and looked at him wistfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Is mamma better now, Captain Burnett?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, no, I am afraid not: but I think you need not
+trouble. Biddy will look after her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Biddy is dreadfully mysterious, and will hardly let any of
+us speak to mamma; but I think it is my place, not Biddy's,
+to wait on her. She has no right to tell me to go downstairs,
+and to treat me like a child. I am fifteen.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; indeed, you are growing quite a woman, Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>And Michael looked very kindly at Audrey's <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i>. He
+and Mollie were great friends.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril came in some time ago. He had to dress for the
+party, you know, and Biddy would not let him go into the
+drawing-room and interrupt you; she was mounting guard all
+the time. Cyril was quite cross at last, and asked me what
+on earth was the matter, and why you and mamma were having
+a private interview; but of course I could not tell him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose not, my dear.'</p>
+
+<p>'He says he shall ask mamma to-morrow, and that he shall
+bring Miss Ross to see her, because he is sure she is ill. Will
+you come in and see Kester, Captain Burnett?&mdash;he is busy
+with his Greek.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">{312}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But Michael declined; it was late, and he must hurry home
+and dress for dinner.</p>
+
+<p>He had forgotten all about the Charringtons' dinner-party
+and dance, and he was a little startled, as he entered the hall,
+to see Audrey standing before the fire talking to Cyril. Both
+of them were in evening dress.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey looked very pretty; she wore a white silk dress.
+He had seen her in it once before, and he had thought then
+how wonderfully well it became her; and the sparkling cross
+rested against her soft throat. Cyril's roses, with their pale
+pinky tint, gave her just the colour that was needed, and her
+eyes were very bright; and perhaps her lover's praise had
+brought that lovely glow to her face.</p>
+
+<p>'You will be late, Michael; the dressing-bell sounded an
+age ago, and father is in the drawing-room. What have you
+been doing with yourself all these hours?'</p>
+
+<p>'I had forgotten you were going out,' he returned, parrying
+her question. 'How nice you look, Audrey! I thought white
+silk was bridal finery. Cinderella turned into a princess was
+nothing to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I feel like a princess with my roses and diamonds;' but
+she looked at Cyril, not at Michael, as she spoke. Cyril was
+standing beside her with one arm against the carved mantelpiece;
+he was looking handsomer than ever. Just then there
+was the sound of carriage-wheels, and he took up the furred cloak
+that lay on the settee beside him, and put it gently round her
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>'You must not take cold,' Michael heard him say. There
+was nothing in the words, but the glance that accompanied this
+simple remark spoke volumes. Michael drew a deep heavy
+sigh as he went upstairs. 'Poor fellow! how he worships her!'
+he thought;' what will be the end of this tangle?' And then
+he dressed himself hastily and took his place at the table to eat
+his dinner with what appetite he might, while Mrs. Ross discoursed
+to him placidly on the baby's beauty and on dear
+Geraldine's merits as a mother and hostess.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">{313}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>'I MUST THINK OF MY CHILD, MIKE'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Ah! the problem of grief and evil is, and will be always, the greatest
+enigma of being, only second to the existence of being itself.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Amiel.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Michael listened in a sort of dream. He was telling himself
+all the time that his opportunity was come, and that it was
+incumbent on him not to sleep another night under his cousin's
+roof until he had made known to him this grievous thing.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as they rose from the table, and Dr. Ross was
+preparing as usual to follow his wife into the drawing-room
+until the prayer-bell summoned him into the schoolroom,
+Michael said, a little more seriously than usual:</p>
+
+<p>'Dr. Ross, would you mind giving me half an hour in the
+study after prayers? I want your advice about something;'
+for he wished to secure this quiet time before Audrey returned
+from her party.</p>
+
+<p>The Doctor was an observant man, in spite of his occasional
+absence of mind, and he saw at once that something was amiss.</p>
+
+<p>'Shall you be able to do without us this evening, Emmie?'
+he said, with his usual old-fashioned politeness, that his wife
+and daughters thought the very model of perfection: 'it is too
+bad to leave you alone when Audrey is not here to keep you
+company.'</p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Ross assured him that she would not in the least
+mind such solitude; she was reading the third volume of an
+exciting novel, and would not be sorry to finish it. And as
+soon as this was settled and the coffee served, the gong sounded,
+and they all adjourned to the schoolroom.</p>
+
+<p>Michael never missed this function, as he called it. He
+liked to sit in his corner and watch the rows of boyish faces
+before him, and try to imagine what their future would be;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">{314}</a></span>
+and, above all things, he loved to hear the fresh young voices
+uniting in their evening hymn; but on this evening he regarded
+them with some degree of sadness.</p>
+
+<p>'They have the best of it,' he thought rather moodily;
+'they little know what is before them, poor fellows! and the
+hard rubs fate has in store for them.' And then, as they filed
+past him and one little fellow smiled at him, he drew him aside
+and put him between his knees.</p>
+
+<p>'You look very happy, Willie. I suppose you have not
+been caned to-day?'&mdash;a favourite joke of the Captain's.</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir,' returned Willie proudly; 'but Jefferson minor
+fought me, and I licked him. You may ask the other fellows,
+and they would tell you it was all fair. He is a head taller
+than me, and I licked him,' finished Willie, with an air of
+immense satisfaction on his chubby baby face.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, you licked him, did you?' returned Michael absently;
+'and Jefferson minor is beaten. I hope you shook hands afterwards;
+fair fight and no malice, Willie. There's a shilling
+for you because you did not show the white feather in the
+face of the enemy. You will be at the head of a brigade
+yet, my boy.' For all Dr. Ross's lads were bitten with the
+military fever, and from Willie Sayers to broad-shouldered Jeff
+Davidson each boy nourished a secret passion and desire to
+follow the Captain's footsteps, and were ready to be hewed and
+slashed into small pieces if only the Victoria Cross might be
+their reward.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the curly-haired champion had left him, Michael
+followed his cousin into the study. Dr. Ross had already
+lighted his lamp, and roused his fire into a cheerful blaze.</p>
+
+<p>'What is it, Mike? you look bothered,' he asked, as Michael
+drew up his chair. 'Nothing wrong with the money, I
+hope?'</p>
+
+<p>'What should be wrong about it?' returned Michael rather
+disdainfully; 'it is about as safe as the Bank of England. No;
+it is something very different&mdash;a matter that I may say concerns
+us all. I heard something the other day rather uncomfortable
+about the Blakes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing discreditable, I hope?' returned the Doctor
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid I must answer "Yes" to that question; but,
+at least, I can assure you that there is nothing against Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Ross looked relieved.</p>
+
+<p>'Whatever blame there is attaches solely to the mother.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">{315}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Humph! With all her good looks, I never quite liked
+the woman,' ejaculated Dr. Ross <i>sotto voce</i>. Nevertheless, he
+had always been extremely pleasant with her; but perhaps a
+man finds it difficult to be otherwise with a pretty woman.</p>
+
+<p>'I have unfortunately found out&mdash;but perhaps I ought to
+say fortunately for us&mdash;that Mrs. Blake is not a widow: her
+husband is living.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good heavens!'</p>
+
+<p>'Neither is her name Blake; she changed it at the time she
+discarded her husband. I am afraid you must prepare yourself
+for a shock, Dr. Ross, for the whole thing is distinctly reprehensible.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you mean to tell me,' returned the Doctor, with an
+anxious blackness gathering on his brow, 'that Cyril&mdash;that
+my future son-in-law is cognisant of this fact?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no!' replied Michael eagerly; 'you are doing him
+injustice. Blake is as ignorant of the thing as you are yourself;
+he has no more to do with it than you or I. Did I not tell
+you that the sole blame rests with his mother?'</p>
+
+<p>Then the Doctor, in spite of his Christianity, pronounced a
+malediction against the Blake womankind.</p>
+
+<p>'She is just the sort to get into mischief,' he continued;
+'there is a dangerous look in her eyes. Go on, Michael; don't
+keep me in suspense. There is something disgraceful behind
+all this. What reason has any woman to allege for giving up
+her husband?'</p>
+
+<p>'Her excuse is that he brought shame and dishonour on her
+and on his children, and that she would have nothing more to
+do with him. He had committed a forgery, and had been
+condemned to penal servitude for seven years.'</p>
+
+<p>Then the Doctor said 'Good heavens!' again. At certain
+moments of existence it is not possible to be original&mdash;when the
+roof is falling on one's head, for example, or a deadly avalanche
+is threatening. But Michael needed no answer; he only wished
+to finish his story as quickly as possible.</p>
+
+<p>'You know Audrey's friend, Thomas O'Brien?'</p>
+
+<p>'To be sure I do. He is a retired corn-chandler. I went
+to his shop once, in Peterborough.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you have probably heard of his brother Mat?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Ross gazed at him with a face of despair. His
+misfortunes were accumulating; he had a sense of nightmare
+and oppression. Surely this hideous thing could not be true!
+no such disgrace could threaten him and his! If an earthquake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">{316}</a></span>
+had opened in the Woodcote grounds, he could not have looked
+more horrified.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean to tell me, Mike, that this Mat O'Brien is
+Cyril's father?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Michael gave him a detailed and carefully-worded
+account of his interview with Mrs. Blake.</p>
+
+<p>'Then it is true&mdash;quite true?' in a hopeless tone.</p>
+
+<p>'There cannot be a doubt of it; I had it from her own lips.
+To-morrow I must see O'Brien himself, and hear his side. I
+cannot help saying that I am sorry for the woman, in spite of
+her falseness; she is utterly crushed with her misery.' But it
+may be doubted if Dr. Ross heard this: he was occupied with
+his own reflections.</p>
+
+<p>'This will break Audrey's heart; she is devoted to the
+fellow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I hope not; she has more strength than other girls.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I cannot allow this affair to go on: I must see
+Blake, and tell him so at once.'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no hurry, is there? I think you should let me
+speak to O'Brien first.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, if you wish it; but I confess I do not see the
+necessity.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I hope you will be gentle with Blake: remember that
+not a vestige of blame attaches to him; it is simply his misfortune
+that he is the son of such parents. I expect he will be
+utterly broken-hearted.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Ross gave vent to an impatient groan. No man
+had a softer heart than he, and he had liked Cyril from the
+first.</p>
+
+<p>'I must think of my child, Mike,' he said at last.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you must think of her; but you must be merciful to
+him, too. Think what he will suffer when he knows this; and
+he is as innocent as a babe! I suppose'&mdash;and then he hesitated,
+and looked at his cousin&mdash;'that there will be no way of
+hushing up things, and letting the engagement go on?'</p>
+
+<p>Then the Doctor nearly sprang out of his chair.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you out of your senses, Michael, to put such a question
+to me? Is it likely that any man in my position would allow
+his family to be allied to a convicted criminal? Would any
+amount of hushing up render such an alliance tolerable?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I suppose not.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have never cared much for conventionality, or for the
+mere show of things; but I suppose that, in some sense, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">{317}</a></span>
+good opinion of my fellow-men is necessary for my comfort.
+When Blake came to me, and told me that he had not a shilling
+in the world beside his earnings as my classical master, I did
+not let his poverty stand in the way. I told him that, as my
+girl's happiness was involved, I could not find it in my heart
+to withhold my consent.</p>
+
+<p>'"You are certainly not in the position in which I should
+wish to see my son-in-law," I said to him; "but I will speak
+to Charrington, and see what is to be done."</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I have spoken, and Charrington only promised the
+other day that he would push him on. I have no doubt at
+all that, with my interest and standing in the place, Cyril
+would have had a house in time, and Audrey's position would
+have been equal to her sister's.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you mean to say that all this is at an end?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course it is at an end!' almost shouted the Doctor;
+'and Cyril's career is practically at an end, too. Do you
+suppose any public school in England would employ a master
+whose relatives are so disreputable that he is obliged to make
+use of an assumed name? When I refuse to allow him to
+marry my daughter, I must give him his <i>cong&eacute;</i> at the same
+time.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then in that case he is a ruined man;' and to this Dr.
+Ross gave a sorrowful assent.</p>
+
+<p>'How am I to help myself or him, Mike? I will do all
+in my power to soften the weight of this blow to him; but
+when all is at an end between him and Audrey, how am I
+to keep him in Rutherford? The thing would he impossible.
+He would not wish it himself. He is very proud and high-spirited
+by nature, and such a position would be intolerable
+to him. No, he must go; but if money will help him, he may
+command me to any reasonable amount.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will not take your money;' and then he added 'Poor
+beggar!' under his breath.</p>
+
+<p>'You will stand by me, Mike?'</p>
+
+<p>'Most certainly I will; but I mean to befriend Blake, too,
+as far as he will let me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should not think he would refuse your sympathy; a
+man needs someone at such a time. But when I spoke I was
+thinking of my girl. You have great influence with her,
+Michael; sometimes I think no brother's influence could be
+stronger. How would it be if she were to hear the news first
+from you?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">{318}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then Michael recoiled as though someone had struck him
+in the face.</p>
+
+<p>'Impossible! I could not tell her. I would rather be
+shot!' he returned vehemently.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it is not a pleasant business, and I suppose I must
+do it myself; only the idea crossed my mind that perhaps it
+might come better from you. I shall not be able to refrain
+from indignation; I am apt to get a little warm sometimes.'</p>
+
+<p>But Michael firmly negatived this notion.</p>
+
+<p>'It will go hard with her, whoever tells it,' he said decidedly.
+'Nothing can soften such a blow, and it is far better for her
+to hear it from her father. You see,' he continued rather
+sadly, 'it will be a fair division, for I have to break it to poor
+Blake; and I shall have tough work with him, for he worships
+the ground she walks on.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, poor fellow! I know he does. What a cruel affair
+it is, Mike! That woman's deceit will go far to spoil two
+lives.'</p>
+
+<p>But to this Michael would not agree. He said, with a
+great deal of feeling, that Audrey was not the girl to let any
+love-affair spoil her life; she thought too little of herself, was
+too considerate and unselfish, to allow any private unhappiness
+to get too strong a hold over her, and so spoil other people's
+lives.</p>
+
+<p>'You will see what sort of stuff she has in her,' he said,
+with the enthusiasm of a lover who can find no flaw at all.
+'She will bear her sorrow bravely, and not allow it to interfere
+with others. She is far too good and noble. You need not
+fear for her; she has strength enough for a dozen women.'</p>
+
+<p>And Dr. Ross felt himself a little comforted by such words.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mind waiting up for her to-night?' he asked
+presently. 'Unfortunately, Emmie has sent all the servants
+to bed, because I said I had some writing to do. I feel very
+upset about all this, and she will find out from my manner
+that something is amiss. Would it bother you, Mike? She
+will just come in here and warm herself; but if you tell her
+you are tired, she will not detain you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can have no objection to do that,' replied Michael, trying
+to hide his reluctance; and, indeed, Dr. Ross looked so pale
+and jaded, that Audrey's suspicions would have been excited.
+'Go to bed and get a good night's rest; it is nearly twelve
+now, and they meant to be home by one.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Ross allowed himself to be persuaded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">{319}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I don't know about the good night's rest,' he replied; 'but
+I should be glad to think over the whole thing quietly before
+I see either of them. There is no hurry, as you say, and
+perhaps you had better get your interview over with O'Brien.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shall you tell Cousin Emmeline?'</p>
+
+<p>'Tell Emmie!' and here the Doctor's voice was somewhat
+irritable, as one disagreeable detail opened after another.
+'Not to-night, certainly. Why, she will be asleep. No, it
+would never do to tell her before Audrey; it would get round
+to Geraldine, and there would be the deuce of a row. Tell
+the child I was tired, and bid her good-night.'</p>
+
+<p>And then Dr. Ross shook Michael's hand with fervour and
+took himself off.</p>
+
+<p>Michael spent a dreary hour by himself in the study. It
+was a relief to him when he heard the carriage-wheels, but as
+he opened the door he was quite dazzled at the scene before
+him. It was a brilliant moonlight night, and the terrace and
+wide lawn were bathed in the pure white light. A crisp frost
+had touched the grass and silvered each blade, and the effect
+against the dark background of trees and shrubs was intensely
+beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>And the moonlight shone full on Audrey's upturned face, as
+she stood talking to her lover, and the silken folds of her dress
+and her soft furred cloak and hood looked almost of unearthly
+whiteness. In Michael's bewildered eyes she seemed invested
+at the present moment with some new and regal beauty; but
+her light musical laugh dispelled the illusion.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Michael, what has become of father?'</p>
+
+<p>'He was tired, and went off to bed more than an hour ago.
+I hope you do not object to his deputy. I suppose you are
+not coming in, Blake, as it is so late?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course he is not,' returned Audrey in a tone that
+allowed of no appeal. 'He has early work to-morrow, and
+must get as much rest as he can. Good-night, Cyril; we
+have had a delightful evening, have we not?' And to this
+Cyril responded gaily&mdash;for it was not possible there could be
+any lingering adieus before Michael; and as Cyril ran down
+the terrace Audrey waited until Michael had fastened the door,
+and then accompanied him to the study.</p>
+
+<p>'How nice and warm it is!' she observed in a pleased tone.
+'You always keep up such a splendid fire.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am a chilly mortal, you know, and these March nights
+have a touch of December in them.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">{320}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes; it is quite frosty.'</p>
+
+<p>And Audrey threw back her hood and cloak and sat down
+in Dr. Ross's favourite chair. 'Had she any idea how like a
+picture she looked,' Michael wondered, 'with all those soft
+white draperies about her, and the sparkling cross upon her
+neck?' Then he turned away his head with a mute sensation
+of pain. How happy, how very happy, she looked!</p>
+
+<p>'We have had such a nice evening, she began in her most
+animated manner; 'everything was so well arranged. There
+was a dinner-party first, which was followed by what they called
+a Cinderella dance; but actually they do not mean to break
+up for another hour and a half. Mrs. Charrington was quite
+annoyed because we came home so early.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you enjoyed yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, immensely! I waltzed twice with Cyril. Do you
+know, he dances splendidly&mdash;he was certainly my best partner.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; he looks as though he would dance well. Would
+you believe it, Audrey, that when I was a youngster I was considered
+a good dancer, too? It is rather droll to remember that
+now.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can very easily believe it&mdash;you do everything well,
+Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pshaw!' And then Michael added, with a pretended
+yawn: 'I think I could sleep well, though.'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey refused to take this very broad hint.</p>
+
+<p>'What a hurry you are in! And I have not warmed myself
+yet. Do stay a little longer, Michael. I so seldom get you to
+myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'But it is very late,' he returned, unwilling to yield.</p>
+
+<p>'I will only keep you a few minutes,' she replied eagerly;
+'but I want to tell you something.'</p>
+
+<p>Then he was obliged to sit down again.</p>
+
+<p>'What is it?' he asked a little languidly, for the spell of
+her presence was so strong that it threatened to subjugate him.
+He was never willingly alone with her now. The fear was
+always upon him that, in some weak moment, he might betray
+himself. The fear was an idle one&mdash;no man was less likely than
+Michael to lose his self-control; but, nevertheless, it was there.</p>
+
+<p>'It is about Cyril,' she returned softly. 'Dr. Charrington
+has been so nice to him to-night. He stood out once during
+the Lancers, and Dr. Charrington came up to him, and they
+had quite a long talk together. He said father had been
+speaking to him, and that he had quite made up his mind that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">{321}</a></span>
+Cyril should be in the upper school next year, when Mr. Hanbury
+left. It would be a better position, and he would be able
+to have private pupils. And he as good as told him that he
+would do his best to push him, for father's sake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Blake must have been very pleased at this,' replied Michael;
+but he spoke in a dull, monotonous way.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; he is quite excited. Don't you see,' she continued a
+little shyly, 'it will make all the difference to us if Dr. Charrington
+pushes Cyril; for of course it will make it possible for
+him to marry.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Michael felt as though he had accidentally touched
+a full-charged battery. He waited until the numb, tingling
+sensation had left him before he answered her.</p>
+
+<p>'I did not know that you wished to shorten your engagement,'
+he said very quietly; 'I understood that there would be no talk
+of settling for the next two or three years; but, of course, if
+your father has no objection&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'How you talk, Michael!' returned Audrey, blushing with
+some annoyance at this obvious misunderstanding of her meaning;
+'it is Cyril who is in a hurry: for myself, I should be
+perfectly content to go on as we are for the next five years. Do
+you not remember my tirade on the pleasures of freedom?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think I do recall something of the kind.' Alas! had he
+ever forgotten anything she had said to him?</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I am afraid I am of the same opinion still; only I
+dare not let Cyril know that: he would be so hurt. I suppose,'
+reflectively, 'men are different from women; they do always
+seem in such a dreadful hurry about everything. When Cyril
+complains that he feels unsettled, and that I get between him
+and his work, I do not pretend to understand him. I am very
+matter-of-fact, am I not, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should not have said so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, but I am; and I am afraid Cyril thinks so. Well, as
+I have told you my good news I will not detain you any longer.'
+And then Michael rose with a feeling of relief.</p>
+
+<p>But as he followed her a few minutes later upstairs, he
+wondered what she must have thought of him. With all his
+efforts, he had been unable to bring himself to utter one word
+of congratulation. 'It would have been a lie,' he said to himself
+vehemently; 'how could I find it in my heart to deceive
+her for a moment? This may be their last happy day, Heaven
+help them both!' and Michael went to bed in profound
+wretchedness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">{322}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'My roses are withered,' thought Audrey, as she regarded
+the drooping buds and leaves; 'my poor beautiful roses, and
+they were Cyril's gift, too. What a pity that flowers must die,
+and we must grow old&mdash;that in this world there must always be
+decay and change! Shall I ever be happier than I am to-night,
+with Cyril to love me, and Michael&mdash;dear Michael&mdash;to be my
+friend? What makes him so grave? He is always grave now.'
+And then she sighed and laid down her flowers, and took the
+glittering cross from her neck. 'My poor Michael! I should
+like to see him happy, too,' she finished, as she put it away in
+its case.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">{323}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2>
+
+<h3>'OLIVE WILL ACKNOWLEDGE ANYTHING'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Evil, like a rolling stone upon a mountain-top,</div>
+<div class="verse">A child may first impel, a giant cannot stop.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Trench.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'By despising himself too much, a man comes to be worthy of his own
+contempt.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Amiel.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Audrey was sure it was the east wind that made everyone so
+unlike themselves the next morning. Bailey had told her that
+the wind was decidedly easterly, or, perhaps, more strictly
+speaking, north-east. She had run down the garden to speak
+to him about some plants, and perhaps with some intention of
+intercepting Cyril when he went across to breakfast, and they
+had had quite a confabulation on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>But when she got back to the house she found rather a
+subdued state of things. Mrs. Ross looked tired; her husband
+had kept her awake by his restlessness, and she had got it firmly
+in her mind that a fit of gout was impending. Dr. Ross had
+once had a touch of gout&mdash;a very slight touch, to be sure&mdash;but
+it had given him a wholesome fear of the complaint, and had
+implanted in him a deep distrust of other men's port wine; and
+his devoted wife had never forgotten the circumstance.</p>
+
+<p>'And I am sure,' she observed in an undertone to her
+daughter, 'that if I were not quite certain that there is nothing
+troubling your father&mdash;for, of course, he would have told me of
+it at once&mdash;I should have said there was something on his
+mind, for he tossed and groaned so; but mark my words, Audrey,
+it is his old enemy, the gout; and if only I could induce him
+to speak to Dr. Pilkington we might ward it off still.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is that you are telling the child, Emmie?' asked the
+Doctor, who had very sharp ears. 'Gout! stuff and nonsense!
+I never was better in my life.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">{324}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I think your complexion looks a little sallow this morning,
+John,' returned Mrs. Ross rather timidly, for she knew her
+husband's objection to any form of ailment; 'and I am sure
+you never closed your eyes all night.' But at this Dr. Ross
+pished impatiently, and it was then that Audrey hazarded her
+brilliant suggestion about the east wind.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael looks rather limp, too,' she went on; 'and he
+never could endure an east wind.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have your own way, Audrey,' returned her cousin good-humouredly;
+but neither to her nor to Mrs. Ross did he
+confess that his night had been sleepless too. When he had
+finished his breakfast he went round to the stables, where Dr.
+Ross joined him. He had ordered the dog-cart to be got ready
+for him, and he told the groom that there was no need to bring
+it round to the front door.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross watched him silently as he drew on his driving
+gloves and turned up the collar of his coat.</p>
+
+<p>'You will have a cold drive, I am afraid,' he said at last, as
+Michael took the reins and the brown mare began to fidget;
+'come to my study the moment you get back.' And Michael
+nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Much as he disliked the business before him, he was anxious
+to get it over; so he drove as fast as possible; and as the mare
+was fresh and skittish, she gave him plenty to think about, and
+he was quite warm with the exertion of holding her in and
+restraining her playful antics by the time he pulled up at the
+village inn, which went by the name of the Cat and Fiddle.
+Here he had the mare put up, while he walked down the one
+main street of Brail, and down a lane or two, until he came to
+Mr. O'Brien's sequestered cottage.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. O'Brien opened the door himself. When he saw
+Michael, he shook his head with an air of profound sadness, and
+led the way without speaking into the parlour, where he
+usually sat, and where Sam was basking before the fire after
+the luxurious habit of cats.</p>
+
+<p>He got up, however, and rubbed his sleek head against
+Michael's knee as he sat down in the black elbow-chair;
+but Mr. O'Brien still stood on the rug, shaking his head
+sadly.</p>
+
+<p>'You have come, Captain. I made up my mind you would
+come to-day, to get at the rights of it; I told Mat so.
+"Depend upon it, the Captain will look us up," I said to him;
+"he is a man of action, and it is not likely he will let the grass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">{325}</a></span>
+grow under his feet. He will be round, sure enough, and you
+will have to be ready with your answers."'</p>
+
+<p>'Where is your brother, Mr. O'Brien?'</p>
+
+<p>'He has gone out for a bit, but he will be back presently.
+I told him not to go far. "You'll be wanted, you may take my
+word for it&mdash;you'll be wanted, Mat," I told him; and then he
+promised he would be round directly.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid this affair has been a great shock to you, Mr.
+O'Brien. Miss Ross once told me that you had no idea whom
+your brother married.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, sir, I can't say as much as that. Mat told me
+that the name of the girl he was going to wed was Olive
+Carrick, and that she came of respectable people; but he did
+not tell me much more than that. And now I put it to you,
+Captain&mdash;how was I to know that any woman would falsify
+her husband's name, and that she should be living close to my
+doors, as one might say?&mdash;for what is a matter of three miles?
+It gave me a sort of shiver&mdash;and I have not properly got rid of
+it yet&mdash;when I think of that dear young creature, whom Susan
+and me have always loved&mdash;that she should be entrapped
+through that woman's falseness into an engagement with Mat's
+son. It goes to my heart&mdash;it does indeed, Captain&mdash;to see
+that dear, sweet lady dragged into a connection that will only
+disgrace her.'</p>
+
+<p>'My cousin would think it no disgrace to be connected with
+you, Mr. O'Brien;' for he knew too well Audrey's large-mindedness
+and absence of conventionality. 'She has always
+looked upon you as her friend.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Captain; that is very handsomely said, and I
+wish my Prissy could have heard it, for she has done nothing
+but cry since the news reached her. "Rachel refusing to be
+comforted" is nothing compared to Prissy when the mood is on
+her; she literally waters all her meals with her tears. Yes,
+you mean it handsomely; but I am an old man, Captain
+Burnett, and know the world a bit, and I have the sense to see
+that Thomas O'Brien&mdash;honest and painstaking as he may be&mdash;is
+no fit connection for Dr. Ross's daughter. Why, to think
+she might be my niece and call me "uncle"!' and here the old
+man's face flushed as he spoke. 'It is not right; it is not as
+it should be. She must give him up&mdash;she must indeed,
+Captain!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid Dr. Ross holds that opinion, Mr. O'Brien.
+You will understand that he means no disrespect to you; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">{326}</a></span>
+it is simply intolerable to him that any daughter of his should
+marry Matthew O'Brien's son. You see, I am speaking very
+plainly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir; and I am speaking just as plainly to you. In
+this sort of case it is no use beating about the bush. Mat has
+made his bed, and he must just lie on it; and his children&mdash;Heaven
+help them, poor young things!&mdash;must just lie on theirs
+too. Dear, dear! to think that when she was talking to me so
+pleasantly about Mollie and Kester, and&mdash;what is her lad's
+name?&mdash;that neither she nor I had an idea that she was
+speaking to their uncle! There, it beats me, Captain&mdash;it does
+indeed!' And there were tears in the old man's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid there is heavy trouble in store for them all, and
+for my cousin, too; she will be very unwilling to give up
+Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! that is what he calls himself! Well, she was
+always faithful, Captain; she is made of good stout stuff, and
+that sort wears best in the long-run. If she is a bit difficult,
+send her to me, and I'll talk to her. I will put things before
+her in a light she won't be able to resist.'</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the sadness of the conversation, Michael could
+hardly forbear a smile.</p>
+
+<p>'I hardly know what you would say to her, Mr. O'Brien.'</p>
+
+<p>'You leave that to me, Captain; it is best not to be
+too knowing about things. But I don't mind telling you one
+thing that I would say: "My dear young lady, you have been
+a good and true friend to Thomas O'Brien, and I am grateful
+and proud to call you my friend; but I will not have you for
+my niece. Mat's son may be good as gold&mdash;I have nothing to
+say against the poor lad, who, after all, is my own flesh and
+blood; but it would be a sin and shame to wed him, when his
+father picked oakum in a felon's cell." Don't you think that
+will fetch her, sir? Women are mostly proud, and like their
+menkind to have clean hands; and I'll say it, too!' And here
+Mr. O'Brien thumped the arm of his chair so emphatically,
+that Sam woke and uttered a reproachful mew.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope you will not be put to the pain of saying this to
+her,' returned. Michael, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>What a fine old fellow this was! He wondered what Dr.
+Ross would say when he repeated this speech to him. Nature
+must have intended Tom O'Brien for a gentleman. Could anything
+be more touching than the way he sought to shield his
+girl-friend, even putting aside the natural claims of his own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">{327}</a></span>
+flesh and blood to prevent her from being sullied by any contact
+with him and his?</p>
+
+<p>Michael felt as though he longed to shake hands with him,
+and tell him how he honoured and respected him; but he
+instinctively felt that any such testimony would hardly be
+understood. One word he did venture to say:</p>
+
+<p>'I think it is very good of you to take our side.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nay, sir, I can see nought of goodness in it. As my
+Susan used to say, you should not praise people for walking
+along a straight road, and for not taking the first crooked path
+that offers itself. Susan and I thought alike there&mdash;we were
+neither of us fond of crooked turnings. "There can only be
+one right and one wrong, Tom," as she would say; and I hope,
+Captain, that I shall always tell the truth and shame the devil
+as long as I am a living man.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think there would be no doubt of that,' returned
+Michael heartily. And then a faint smile crossed the old
+man's face; but it faded in a moment, as footsteps sounded in
+the passage outside.</p>
+
+<p>'That is Mat; he has kept his word in coming back so
+soon. I had better fetch him in, and then you'll get it
+over.'</p>
+
+<p>'You need not leave the room, Mr. O'Brien; this is your
+business as well as ours.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know it, sir. But, thank you kindly, I feel as if I had
+said my say, and that I may as well bide quiet with Prissy.
+Mat has had it all out with me; we were up half the night
+talking. I always hoped I was a Christian, Captain; but I
+doubt it when I think of the words I spoke about that woman.
+She married that poor lad to serve her own purposes and to
+spite her lover; and while he doted on her, she just looked
+down on him, and scouted his people because they were in
+trade. She pretty nearly ruined him with her fine lady-like
+ways, and with pestering him for money that he had not got;
+and then, when he made that slip of his, and was almost crazy
+with the sin and the shame, she just gives him up&mdash;will have
+nothing more to do with him. And that is the woman that
+the Almighty made so fair outside that our poor foolish lad
+went half wild for the love of her! No, sir; if you will
+excuse me, I will just send Mat along, and keep in the background
+a bit. It makes me grind my teeth with pain and
+anger to hear how she treated the poor fellow, almost driving
+him mad with her bitter tongue!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">{328}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Then in that case I will certainly not keep you.' And as
+he spoke he noticed how the vigorous old man seemed to
+totter as he rose from his chair; but he only shook his
+head with the same gentle smile as Michael offered him his
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>'Nay, Captain; that is not needed. I am only a bit shaken
+with all that's passed, and you must give me time to right
+myself. Now I will send Mat in; and when you have finished
+I'll see you again.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael did not have to wait long. He had only crossed
+the room to look at a photograph of Susan O'Brien which
+always stood on a little round table in the corner, when he
+found the light suddenly intercepted, as Matthew O'Brien's tall
+figure blocked up the little window.</p>
+
+<p>To his surprise, Mat commenced the conversation quite
+easily:</p>
+
+<p>'You are looking at Susan, Captain Burnett? That was
+taken twelve or thirteen years ago. Isn't it a kind, true
+face?&mdash;that is better than a handsome one in the long-run.
+She does not look as though she would desert a man when his
+head is under water&mdash;eh, Captain?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed!' returned Michael, falling at once into the
+other man's humour. 'Mrs. O'Brien must have been a
+thoroughly good woman, for her husband never seems to have
+got over her loss; he is always talking about her.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is so like Tom! He was never given to keep a silent
+tongue in his head: he must always speak out his thoughts,
+good or bad. That is rather different from me. Why, I have
+often spent days without opening my mouth, except to call to
+my dog. I think Tom finds it a relief to talk; the sound of
+his own tongue soothes him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very likely. Shall we sit down, Mr. O'Brien? the fireside
+is rather a pleasant place this bitter March day.'</p>
+
+<p>'As you like,' returned Mat indifferently; 'for myself, I
+prefer to stand;' and as he spoke he propped his tall figure
+against the wooden mantelpiece, and, half shielding his face
+with one arm, looked down into the blaze.</p>
+
+<p>In this attitude Michael could only see his side-face, and he
+was startled at the strong likeness to Cyril&mdash;the profile was
+nearly as finely cut; and it was only when he turned his full
+face that the resemblance ceased to be so striking. Cyril had
+the same dark eyes and low, broad forehead; but his beautifully-formed
+mouth and chin were very different from his father's,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">{329}</a></span>
+which expressed far too clearly a weak, irresolute character.
+But he was a handsome man, and, in spite of his shabby coat,
+there was something almost distinguished in his appearance.
+Anyone seeing the man for the first time would have guessed
+he had a story; very probably, looking at his broad chest and
+closely-cropped gray hair and black moustache, they would have
+taken him for a soldier, as Michael did.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow, he found it a little difficult to begin the conversation;
+he hoped Matthew O'Brien would speak again; but
+he seemed disinclined to break the silence that had grown up
+between them.</p>
+
+<p>'You are not much like your brother, Mr. O'Brien.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir; Tom and I are not much alike, and more's the
+pity. Tom has been an honest man all his life.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael was about to reply that that was not saying much
+in his favour; but he felt that under the circumstances this
+would be awkward, so he held his peace.</p>
+
+<p>'There aren't many men to beat Tom,' continued Mat.
+'Few folk would be so stanch to their own flesh and blood
+when only disgrace would come of it; but Tom is too fine-hearted
+to trample on a fellow when he is down and other
+folk are crying "Fie! for shame!" on him. Would you
+believe it, sir,' stretching out a sinewy thin hand as he spoke,
+'that that brother of mine never said an unkind word to me in
+my life; and when I came back to him that night, feeling none
+too sure of my welcome, it was just a grip of the hand and
+"Come in, my lad," as though I were the young chap I
+used to be coming home to spend my holiday with him and
+Susan.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think your brother one of the best men living, Mr.
+O'Brien.'</p>
+
+<p>'And so he is, sir; and so he is; but you have not come
+all this way to talk about Tom;' and here he paused, and again
+the shielding hand went over his eyes, and Michael could see
+a twitching of the mouth under the moustache. 'It is about
+Olive that you want to see me.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are right. Will you kindly give me the date and
+place of your marriage?'</p>
+
+<p>Matthew O'Brien nodded and drew a folded paper from his
+breast-pocket.</p>
+
+<p>'There it is. Tom told me I had better write it down in
+black and white to save us all trouble. I have put down the
+date and the name of the church where we were married.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">{330}</a></span>
+Strange to say, I can even recollect the name of the parson
+who did the job; he was a little black-haired man, and his
+name was Craven. It was a runaway match, you know.
+Olive was stopping with some friends in Dublin, and I met her
+early one morning and took her to St. Patrick's. You will
+find it all right in the register&mdash;Matthew Robert O'Brien and
+Olive Carrick. There were only two witnesses: an old pew-opener,
+and a friend of mine, Edgar Boyle. Boyle is dead
+now, poor chap! but you will find his name all right.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can you tell me also, Mr. O'Brien, where I can find the
+entries of your children's baptism? It may be necessary for
+them to know this some day.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, sir, I believe I can satisfy you on that point, too.
+We were living at Stoke Newington when the children were
+born. You will find their names in the register at St. Philip's&mdash;Cyril
+Langton Carrick: that was a bit of her pride; she
+wanted the boy to have her family names. Kester and Mary
+Olivia&mdash;my little Mollie as we meant to call her&mdash;I have not
+seen her since she was a baby;' and here Michael was sure
+Mat dashed away a tear. 'It was a barbarous thing to
+rob me of my children, and I was so fond of the little chaps,
+too. I think I took most to Kester; he was such a cunning,
+clever little rogue, and his mother did not make half the fuss
+about him that she did about Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'She has acknowledged that to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't doubt it, sir. Olive will acknowledge anything;
+she will have her flare-up one minute and frighten you to death
+with her tantrums, and the next she will be as placid and
+sweet-tongued as ever. She was never the same for two
+days running; it would be always some scheme or other, something
+for which she needed money. I used to tell her she
+never opened her lips to me except to ask me for money; and
+woe betide me if I told her I was hard up.'</p>
+
+<p>'But she had money of her own?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but she muddled it away. She was always a bad
+manager. I never saw such a woman; and Biddy was just as
+bad. We might have had a comfortable home, and I might
+have kept out of trouble, if she had listened to me; but I
+might as well have spoken to that wall.'</p>
+
+<p>'But surely it was your duty as her husband to restrain her?
+Her son manages her quite easily now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps so,' a little sullenly; 'maybe she cares for her
+son, though she turned against her husband; her heart was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">{331}</a></span>
+always like flint stone to me. I was afraid of her, Captain
+Burnett, and she knew it; and that gave her a handle over
+me. A man ought not to fear his own wife&mdash;it is against
+nature; but, there, when she looked at me in her cold,
+contemptuous way, and dared me to dictate to her, I felt all
+my courage ooze out of me. I could have struck her when she
+looked at me like that; and I think she wanted me to, just to
+make out a case against me: but, fool that I was, I was too
+fond of her and the children to do it. I bore it all, and
+perilled my good name for her sake; and this is how she has
+treated me&mdash;spurned me away from her as though I were
+a dog!'</p>
+
+<p>'She has not been a good wife to you; but, all the same, I
+do not understand why you took her at her word. Did you
+never in all these years make an effort to be reconciled with
+her for the sake of your children?'</p>
+
+<p>'You do not know Olive when you put such a question.
+There will be no reconciliation possible in this world. I may
+compel her to own herself my wife, but I could not force her
+to say a kind word to me. She talked me over into setting
+her free, and made me promise not to hunt her out. She got
+over me. Olive is a rare talker; she told me it would be
+better for the little chaps not to bear their father's name&mdash;she
+would take them away and bring them up to be good, honest
+men, and she would take care no shame should ever touch them;
+and would you believe it, sir, I was so cowed and broken with the
+thought of all those years I was to spend in prison, that for the
+time I agreed with her. It was just as though I had made
+her a promise to commit suicide. I was to let her and the
+children go, and not to put in my claims when they set me
+free; and as she talked and I answered her, it seemed to me
+as though Mat O'Brien were already dead.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">{332}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>'HOW CAN I BEAR IT?'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Through that gloom he will see but a shadow appearing,</div>
+<div class="vind2">Perceive but a voice as I come to his side;</div>
+<div class="verse">But deeper their voice grows, and nobler their bearing,</div>
+<div class="vind2">Whose youth in the fires of anguish hath died.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Matthew Arnold.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Michael was trying to frame a suitable reply to this speech,
+that was at once so tragic and hopeless, when Mat suddenly
+turned to him and said, in a strangely altered voice:</p>
+
+<p>'I want you to tell me one thing, sir. Why does she call
+herself Blake?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid I cannot enlighten you on that point,'
+returned Michael, after a moment's consideration; 'probably
+it was the first name that occurred to her. You will allow that
+it is short and handy, and that it is by no means conspicuous.'
+But this answer did not seem to satisfy Matthew O'Brien. An
+uneasy, almost suspicious look came into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose it does not mean,' he continued, hesitating over
+his words, 'that she&mdash;Olive&mdash;has put herself under another
+man's protection?'</p>
+
+<p>'Good heavens, O'Brien!' exclaimed Michael, in a shocked
+voice. 'How can you wrong your wife so? With all her sins,
+I do not believe she is that sort of woman.'</p>
+
+<p>'You mistake me, sir,' returned Mat doggedly. 'And, in a
+way, you mistake Olive too. She has not got the notions of
+other women. She would not think things wrong that would
+horrify other folk. When she gave me up, she said that she
+should consider herself free, and she might even make it straight
+with her conscience to marry another man, who would be a
+better protector to her and the children. I do not say Olive
+has done this. But if it be so, by the powers above, Captain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">{333}</a></span>
+Burnett, I will have the law of her there! So let her and the
+other fellow look out for themselves!'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need to excite yourself so, O'Brien. Your wife is
+too much a woman of the world to get herself into that sort of
+trouble. Her love for her eldest son is her master passion. And
+I do not suppose she has even given a thought to another man.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad to hear it, Captain. But Olive has fooled me
+once, and I doubted but she might have done it again.
+Perhaps you may not have heard it, but she would never have
+married me if Darrell&mdash;Major Darrell, he was&mdash;had not jilted
+her. She told me once, to spite me, that she worshipped the
+ground the fellow trod on. And he was a cad&mdash;confound him!&mdash;one
+of those light-hearted gentry who dance with girls and
+make love to them, and then boast of their conquests. But he
+had a way with him, and she never cared for anyone again.
+She has told me so again and again in her tantrums.'</p>
+
+<p>'My poor fellow,' returned Michael pityingly, 'you may at
+least be easy on one point. Mrs. Blake&mdash;or Mrs. O'Brien, as
+I suppose we must call her&mdash;has certainly led an exemplary
+life since she left you, devoting herself to her children, and
+especially to her eldest son.'</p>
+
+<p>Mat made no answer. His brief excitement had faded, and
+he now resumed his old dejection of manner. He leant his
+head on his hand again and looked into the fire; but by and
+by he roused himself from his abstraction.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril has grown up a fine, handsome fellow, I hear. I
+suppose he has Olive's good looks?'</p>
+
+<p>'He is very like her, certainly. He is a good-looking man,
+and exceedingly clever. Any father might feel proud of such
+a son.'</p>
+
+<p>'And he is to marry the young lady I saw here the other
+day. I forget her name, but she is the daughter of the chief
+boss down here.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael gave a faint shudder.</p>
+
+<p>'Her name is Miss Ross.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, I remember now. Tom says the marriage will be
+broken off; but we will talk of that presently. I want to
+hear something about the other little chap&mdash;Kester.'</p>
+
+<p>'He has not got his brother's good health, I am sorry to
+say.' And here Michael gave a short sketch of Kester's boyish
+accident, and the results that followed. 'He can walk very
+fairly now,' he continued, 'and will soon lay aside his crutch;
+but I fear he will never make a strong man.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">{334}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Dear, dear!' returned Mat in a sorrowful tone. 'And to
+think of the active little monkey he used to be! Why, I can
+see him now, mounted aloft on my shoulder and holding me
+round the neck till I was fairly choked, and the other lad
+clasping me round the knee, and hallooing out that he wanted
+to ride dada, too, though Olive never seemed to care to see me
+play with them&mdash;we made so much noise, she said. Dear,
+dear! and to think of the poor chap on crutches! And there
+is Mollie, too; she was only a baby when I saw her last&mdash;such
+a fat, rosy little thing!'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie is a fine-grown girl, and as nice a child as you
+would wish to see. We are all very fond of her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, she has kept her word, and done her duty to them.
+And now look here, sir. You just bring me somewhere where
+I can see the youngsters, and hear them talk, and I will
+promise you to keep dark, and not let out to them that I am
+their father. I will just have a look at them, and then I will
+never trouble them again.'</p>
+
+<p>'What on earth do you mean, O'Brien?'</p>
+
+<p>'I mean that Olive is right, and that they are better
+without me,' returned Mat dejectedly. 'Do you suppose they
+would have any love in their hearts for a father who could only
+bring disgrace on them? No, sir; I am not going to stand in
+their light and spoil their lives for them. I have given them
+up to Olive, and she seems to have done her best for them.
+Let the youngster have his sweetheart, and I will just bide
+here quietly with Tom; or, if you think that Brail is too near,
+I will put the seas between us again; and you can tell Olive
+so, if you like.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall tell her nothing of the kind, O'Brien,' returned
+Michael, much touched at this generosity on the part of the
+poor prodigal. 'I will not deny that this is the very thing
+she suggested; she even begged me to propose this to you, but
+I refused. Do you suppose that either I or my cousin, Dr.
+Ross, would connive at such deceit and falsehood? It is quite
+true that Mrs. Blake and her children may refuse to have anything
+to do with you, but that is solely their affair. In a few
+hours, Mr. O'Brien, your eldest son will be made aware of
+his father's existence.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sorry to hear it, sir,' returned Mat, in a weak, hopeless
+voice. 'You will make a great mistake, and nothing
+good will come of it. She will teach the youngsters to loathe
+my very name, and as for the lad'&mdash;here he spoke with strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">{335}</a></span>
+emotion&mdash;'he will be ready to curse me for spoiling his life.
+No, no, sir; let sleeping dogs lie. Better let me keep dark,
+and bring trouble to no one.'</p>
+
+<p>But Michael shook his head. Such double-dealing and
+deceit could only deepen the mischief.</p>
+
+<p>'Dr. Ross will never give his sanction to his daughter's
+marriage; he has assured me so most solemnly. Whatever
+trouble comes will be of your wife's causing.'</p>
+
+<p>But Mat would not agree to this.</p>
+
+<p>'She meant no harm, sir. Olive always had curious ideas
+of right and wrong, and she did her best for the youngsters.
+According to your account, she has brought them up well, and
+sent the lad to Oxford. Fancy a son of mine being such a
+swell, and engaged to that young lady, too! Lord! when I
+think of it, I am ready to wish I had never left the bush.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is no use wishing that now, Mr. O'Brien.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir; and it is no use talking over what can't be
+mended. If you have made up your mind to tell the lad, it is
+pretty plain that I can't hinder you; but I will not lift a
+finger to help you. I will just stop where I am.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think perhaps that will be best under the circumstances.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, all the same, it makes me uncommon restless to feel
+that Olive and the youngsters are only three miles off, and I
+can't get at them. Put yourself in my place, sir, and you
+would not find it very pleasant. And there's Tom, too&mdash;with
+all his fine-hearted Christianity&mdash;vowing vengeance on Olive,
+and threatening to turn her away from the door if she ever
+dares to show her face here.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not think that she will ever molest you or your brother.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am quite of your opinion, Captain. Olive will give me
+a pretty wide berth, unless it is her interest to see me; and
+then all Tom's rough speeches wouldn't turn her from her
+purpose. For tenacity and getting her own way, I'd back her
+against any woman.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, as you say, there is nothing to be gained by talking.'
+returned Michael, rising from his chair; but at this moment
+Mr. O'Brien entered.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope I am not interrupting you, Captain; but it is
+getting late, and I was thinking you would take a snack with
+us. The women are dishing up the dinner&mdash;just a baked
+shoulder of mutton and potatoes under it. We are plain folk,
+but Prissy and I will be glad and proud if you will join us,
+sir;' and, after a moment's hesitation, Michael consented.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">{336}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He had had no idea how late it was; they would already be
+sitting down to luncheon at Woodcote. It would be better for
+him to take some food before he set out on his cold drive home.</p>
+
+<p>'If you will allow me to leave you directly afterwards,' he
+observed; and, as Mat left the room that moment, he took the
+opportunity to give Mr. O'Brien a brief <i>r&eacute;sum&eacute;</i> of the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'He begged me to keep it all dark,' he finished; 'he is
+thinking more of his children than himself. But I told him
+that such a course would be impossible.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you spoke the truth, sir; and no good would come of
+such crookedness. But Mat meant well; the lad has a good
+heart, and I do not doubt he has a sore conscience when he
+thinks of all the evil he has wrought. Leave him with me,
+sir; I can manage him best. There, I hear Prissy calling to
+us, and we will just take our places.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael felt faint and weary, and the homely viands seemed
+very palatable to him; but he noticed how Matthew O'Brien's
+want of appetite seemed to distress his brother.</p>
+
+<p>'You are eating nought, lad,' he kept saying at intervals,
+and once he bade Prissy fetch the remains of a meat pie that
+Mat had enjoyed the previous days; 'maybe he will find it
+more toothsome,' he said in his hearty way; but Mat would
+have nothing to say to it.</p>
+
+<p>'You let me be, Tom,' he said at last; 'a man has not
+always got stomach for his food. The Captain has taken
+away my appetite with his talk, and the sight of the meat
+makes me sick;' and then he got up from the table, and they
+saw him pacing up and down the garden with his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>Michael got away as soon as possible, and Mr. O'Brien
+walked with him to the inn. When the dogcart was brought
+out, he shook his hand very heartily.</p>
+
+<p>'Let me know how things go on, Captain, and God bless
+you!' and then, as though by an afterthought: 'If the girl
+gives you trouble, send her to me, and I will just talk the
+sense into her.' And then he stood in the road and watched
+until the dogcart and driver were out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>Afternoon work had begun as Michael entered Woodcote,
+but he found Dr. Ross alone in the study.</p>
+
+<p>'I have only a few minutes to give you, Michael,' he said,
+looking up from the letter he was writing; 'I expected you
+back at least two hours ago.' Then Michael gave him a
+concise account of his interview with the brothers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">{337}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Thomas O'Brien is a grand old fellow,' he said enthusiastically;
+'you should have heard him talk, Dr. Ross; and
+as for poor Mat, he has the makings of a good fellow about
+him, too, only the devil somehow spoilt the batch. Would you
+believe it?&mdash;the poor beggar wanted to efface himself&mdash;to clear
+out altogether for the sake of the youngsters, as he called them.
+He was not very polished in his language, but what can you
+expect? Still, he meant well.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay he did,' returned the Doctor with a sigh; 'you
+had better keep that paper to show Cyril. I must send you
+away now, as Carter and the other boys are coming to me. I
+will see you later on.'</p>
+
+<p>And then Michael took himself off. He could hear Audrey's
+voice as he passed the door of her sitting-room; Mollie was
+with her. A few minutes later, as he stood at his window
+wondering what he should do with himself, he saw her walk
+down the terrace towards the gate with Mollie hanging on her
+arm; they seemed laughing and talking. 'How long will she
+wear that bright face?' he said to himself as he threw himself
+into his easy-chair and took up the paper.</p>
+
+<p>He had just fallen into a doze, with Booty stretched on the
+softest of rugs at his feet, when there was a light tap at his
+door, and to his surprise and discomposure Cyril Blake entered
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>The visit was so wholly unexpected that Michael stared at
+him for a moment without speaking. Cyril had never come to
+his private sitting-room before without a special invitation.</p>
+
+<p>'I must apologise for this intrusion, Captain Burnett,' began
+Cyril quickly; 'but I wanted to speak to you particularly.
+Were you asleep? I am so sorry if I have disturbed you.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, nonsense. I only felt drowsy because I have been out
+in this cold wind and the room is so warm. Take a chair,
+Blake. I shall be wide awake in a moment. Have you seen
+the paper to-day? There is nothing in it, only a remarkably
+stupid article on Bismarck.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will look at it by and by; but to tell you the truth, I
+have come to speak to you about my mother. I am seriously
+uneasy about her: either she is ill, or there is something
+grievously wrong. I understood from Mollie that you were
+with her for more than an hour yesterday; in fact, that she
+sent for you.'</p>
+
+<p>The fire had burnt hollow during Michael's brief nap, and he
+seized this opportunity to stir it vigorously into a blaze; it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">{338}</a></span>
+afforded him a momentary respite. A few seconds' reflection
+convinced him, however, that it was no use beating about the
+bush with a man of Cyril's calibre. The truth had to be told,
+and no amount of preparation would render it palatable.</p>
+
+<p>'You are right,' he returned quietly; 'Mrs. Blake sent for
+me. She thought that I should be able to help her in a
+difficulty.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril looked intensely surprised. 'I thought Mollie must
+have made a mistake. It seems very strange that my
+mother&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>He stopped as though civility did not permit him to finish
+his sentence. But Michael perfectly understood him.</p>
+
+<p>'It seems strange to you; of course it does. My acquaintance
+with Mrs. Blake is so slight that it certainly gives me
+no right to her confidence; but she was in trouble&mdash;in great
+trouble, I may say&mdash;and chance threw me in her way, and
+so&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But here Cyril interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>'My mother in trouble!' he returned incredulously, but
+Michael thought he looked a little pale; 'excuse me, Captain
+Burnett, if I seem rude, but from a boy I have been my mother's
+friend. She has never kept anything from me. I find it almost
+impossible to believe that she would give that confidence to a
+comparative stranger which she would refuse to her son. May
+I beg you to speak plainly? I abhor mysteries.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril spoke impatiently and curtly; his tone was almost
+displeased. But Michael took no offence; he regarded the
+young man very kindly.</p>
+
+<p>'I abhor them too,' he replied gravely; 'but I want you to
+understand one thing: it was a mere chance that brought me
+in Mrs. Blake's way at a moment when she needed assistance;
+I was only like any other stranger who sees a lady in difficulty.
+Now I have told you this I can speak more plainly.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish to heavens you would!' returned Cyril with growing
+excitement. 'Do you know the impression you are giving
+me?&mdash;that there is some mysterious confidence between you
+and my mother. Is it too much to ask if I may know what
+this difficulty and trouble mean?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Blake; you shall know all in good time,' replied
+Michael, with disarming gentleness. 'If I do not speak out at
+once, it is because I fear to give you too great a shock.'</p>
+
+<p>'Too great a shock?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. Your mother, out of mistaken kindness, has kept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">{339}</a></span>
+her children in ignorance all these years that they have a father
+living. He was not a father of whom they could be proud,
+and she tried to keep the fact of his existence from them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Wait a moment!' exclaimed Cyril. The poor fellow had
+turned very white. 'I must take this in. What are you
+telling me, Burnett? That my mother&mdash;my widowed mother&mdash;has
+a husband living?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am telling you the truth. Are you ready to hear me say
+more? I will wait any time you like; but it is a long story,
+and a sad one. Your mother has left me to tell it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Go on! Let me hear every word! Hide nothing&mdash;nothing!'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril spoke in a dull, stifled voice, as though he felt choking.
+When Michael began to speak, very slowly and quietly, he
+almost turned his back to him; and as the story proceeded,
+Michael noticed how he clutched the carved arms of his chair;
+but he did not once see his face. Michael afterwards owned
+that telling that miserable story to Olive O'Brien's son was one
+of the toughest jobs he had ever done in his life. But he had
+no idea how well he did it: there was not an unnecessary
+word. With the utmost care he strove to shield the woman,
+and to show her conduct in the best light. 'It was for her
+children's sake she did it,' he said again and again; but there
+was no answering word from Cyril; if he had been turned to
+stone, his position could not have been more rigid.</p>
+
+<p>'Have you understood me, Blake? My poor, dear fellow, if
+you knew how sorry Dr. Ross and I are for you&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Then, as Michael mentioned Dr. Ross's name, Cyril seemed
+galvanised into sudden life.</p>
+
+<p>'He knows! he knows! For God's sake give me air!'
+But before Michael could cross the room, Cyril had stumbled
+to the window and flung it up, and stood there, with the bitter
+east wind blowing on his face, as though it were a refreshing
+summer breeze.</p>
+
+<p>The chill air made Michael shiver; but he knew by experience
+how intolerable was that sense of suffocation, and he stood by
+patiently until that deadly feeling had passed.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you better now, Blake? My poor fellow, can you sit
+down and speak to me?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Cyril turned his face towards him, and Michael was
+shocked to see how strained and haggard it looked.</p>
+
+<p>'Does she know, too?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not yet; her father will tell her.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">{340}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then the poor boy shuddered from head to foot.</p>
+
+<p>'They will make her give me up! O my God! how can I
+bear it? Burnett, I think I shall go mad! Tell me it is not
+true&mdash;that my mother has not lied to me all these years!'</p>
+
+<p>'At least, she has lied for her son's sake.' But he knew
+how futile were his words, as he saw the bitter contempt in
+Cyril's honest eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I will never forgive her! She has ruined my life! she
+has made me wish that I were dead! I will never, never&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But Michael interrupted him somewhat sternly:</p>
+
+<p>'Hush! hush! You do not know what you are saying.
+She is your mother, Blake&mdash;nothing can alter that fact.'</p>
+
+<p>'She has deceived us all! No, I will not speak; nothing
+can make it better or worse. If I lose Audrey, I do not care
+what becomes of me!'</p>
+
+<p>Michael looked at him pityingly.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think you ought to marry her, Blake!'</p>
+
+<p>Then Cyril flung away from him with a groan; even in his
+misery he understood that appeal to his generosity. But he
+put it from him: he was too much stunned, too dazed altogether,
+to follow out any train of reasoning. In a vague sort
+of way he understood two facts: that he and Kester and Mollie
+were disgraced, and that his mother&mdash;the mother whom he
+adored&mdash;had deceived him. Beyond this he could not go.
+The human mind has limits.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards, in the chill hour of darkness and solitude,
+Michael's words would come back to him: 'Do you think you
+ought to marry her, Blake? Do you think you ought to marry
+her?'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">{341}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>'I SHALL NEVER BE FREE'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'But there are true hearts which the sight</div>
+<div class="vind2">Of sorrow summons forth;</div>
+<div class="verse">Though known in days of past delight,</div>
+<div class="vind2">We know not half their worth.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Bayly.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>The words escaped from Michael almost unconsciously; he
+hardly knew that he spoke them aloud; but in his inner consciousness
+he had no doubt at all of the course that ought to be
+pursued. If he had been in Cyril's place he would not have
+hesitated for a moment. Dearly as he loved Audrey&mdash;and
+what that love was only he himself knew&mdash;he would have
+refused to marry her. He would have separated himself from
+her utterly, and at once.</p>
+
+<p>Michael's strong, long-suffering nature would have carried
+him nobly through such an ordeal. He was a man who would
+have acted up to the spirit of the Gospel command 'to pluck
+out the offending eye, or to cut off the right hand;' there
+would have been no parleying, no weak dalliance with temptation.</p>
+
+<p>'I love you, but it is my duty to leave you, so farewell for
+ever!'&mdash;that is what he would have said to her, knowing
+all the time that life would be utterly joyless to him. Would
+Cyril, in his hot, untried youth, be capable of a like generosity,
+or would he cleave to his betrothed with passionate, one-sided
+fealty, vowing that nothing on earth should separate them as
+long as they two loved each other?</p>
+
+<p>'They will make her give me up!'&mdash;that was all he had
+said. That seemed to be the one deadly terror that assailed
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril had turned away with a groan when Michael spoke,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">{342}</a></span>
+but he made no audible answer, and the next moment his hand
+was on the door.</p>
+
+<p>'Where are you going, Blake?' inquired Michael anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible to keep him, and yet, how could he let
+him leave him in such a condition?</p>
+
+<p>'I must get away from here!' returned Cyril hoarsely. 'I
+must be alone somewhere.'</p>
+
+<p>And Michael understood him.</p>
+
+<p>'Let me at least walk with you,' he returned quickly. 'You
+might meet someone, and perhaps I may be of use. Do not
+refuse; I will not speak to you.' And, as Cyril made no
+objection&mdash;indeed, it was doubtful whether he even heard what
+Michael said&mdash;he followed him downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Just as they reached the hall the drawing-room door opened,
+and, before he could warn Cyril, Audrey came out. She had
+some music in her hand. She uttered an exclamation of surprise
+and pleasure when she saw them.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, I thought you were lost. What have you been
+doing with yourself all day? Were you going out with Cyril?
+Please don't go just yet; it is just beginning to rain, and I
+want him to practise this duet with me. Will you?' looking
+up in Cyril's face with one of her bright smiles.</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot; another time. Please do not keep me!'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril hardly knew what he said. He pushed by her as she
+stood there smiling, with the music in her hand, and went out
+bareheaded into the rain and darkness.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey looked bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>'What does he mean? Is he ill? has anything happened?
+He is so white, and he has forgotten his hat! He has never
+left me like this before. Oh, Michael, do call him back; I
+must speak to him!'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot. I think something is troubling him. Let me
+go, Audrey; he will tell you everything by and by.' And
+Michael snatched up his hat and Cyril's, and hurried after him
+as fast as his halting gait permitted.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril had not gone far; he was standing by the gate quite
+motionless, and his hair and face were wet with the heavy rain.
+Michael took him by the arm and walked on with him; he
+must see him safely to his room, and charge Mrs. Blake not to
+go near him.</p>
+
+<p>'He must have time; he is simply stunned and incapable
+of thought now,' he said to himself, as he piloted him through
+the dark, wet streets.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">{343}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Biddy admitted them. She gave them a searching glance
+as they entered. Cyril's disordered condition must have told
+her everything, for she put her wrinkled, claw-like hand on his
+arm with a warning gesture.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't let the mistress see you like that, Mr. Cyril avick,
+or you'll fright her to death. Go up softly, or she will hear
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>But Biddy's warning was in vain. The staircase was badly
+lighted, and Michael made a false, stumbling step. The next
+moment Mrs. Blake came out on the landing. The sight of the
+two men together seemed to transfix her with horror.</p>
+
+<p>'You have told him!&mdash;oh, heavens! you have told him!'
+she cried, in a despairing voice.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril raised his heavy eyes and looked at her, but he did
+not speak; he passed her as he had passed Audrey, and went
+up to his room, and they heard the door close heavily behind
+him.</p>
+
+<p>'I will go to him! How dare you detain me, Captain
+Burnett? I will go to my son!'</p>
+
+<p>But Michael took no notice of this angry remonstrance; his
+hand was on her arm, and very gently, but firmly, he made her
+enter the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake, will you listen to me for a moment?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I will not listen!' she answered passionately, and her
+bosom began to heave. 'I will go to him and make him speak
+to me. Did you see how he looked at me&mdash;his mother&mdash;as he
+has never looked at me in his life?' And the unhappy woman
+broke into tears and sobs. 'Oh, my boy! my boy! Let me
+go to him, Captain Burnett, and I will bless you as long as I
+live; let me go and kneel to him, if I must. Do you think my
+boy will see his mother at his feet and not forgive her?'</p>
+
+<p>'He will forgive you, Mrs. Blake,' returned Michael, in a
+pitying voice; 'but you must give him time. He cannot
+speak to you now&mdash;he can speak to no one; he is simply
+stunned. Give me your promise that you will not see him to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>'Impossible! I will make no such promise. He is my son,
+not yours. If he cannot speak to me, I can at least take his
+hand and tell him that I am sorry.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will not be able to hear you. As far as I can tell, he
+has taken nothing in; the news has simply crushed him. If
+you will give him time, he will pull himself together; but I
+would not answer for the consequences if you persist in seeing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">{344}</a></span>
+him to-night. He is not himself. There would be words said
+that ought never to be uttered. Mrs. Blake, do be persuaded.
+I am speaking for your sake as well as his.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are always so hard,' she moaned.</p>
+
+<p>But from her manner he thought she would not disobey
+him; he had managed to frighten her.</p>
+
+<p>'You will be wise if you take my advice,' he returned,
+moving away from the door. 'I am going to him now, but I
+shall not stay; it is, above all things, necessary that he should
+be alone.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will you speak to him for me? Will you tell him that
+my heart is nearly broken with that cold, reproachful look of
+his? Will you at least say this, Captain Burnett?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think it would be better not to mention your name to
+him to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she threw herself back on the couch in a hysterical
+outburst.</p>
+
+<p>Michael thought it useless to stay with her. He found
+Biddy outside as usual, and sent her in to do her best for her
+mistress; and then he went up to Cyril's room. He found him
+sitting on the edge of his bed; the window was wide open, and
+the rain was driving in, and had already wetted the carpet; a
+candle someone had lighted was guttering in the draught.
+Michael closed the window, and then he looked at the fireplace.
+There was plenty of fuel at hand. Cyril often worked in his
+own room, and now and then his mother's care had provided
+him with a fire. The room felt cold and damp. There were
+matches at hand, and Michael had no scruple in lighting a fire
+now; the crackle of wood seemed to rouse Cyril.</p>
+
+<p>'Why do you do that? there is no need,' he said irritably.</p>
+
+<p>'Pardon me, there is every need. Do you know your coat
+is wet, Blake? You must change it at once.'</p>
+
+<p>But Cyril only gave an impatient shrug.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you let me see you change it before I go?' he
+persisted, and he actually had his way, perhaps because
+Cyril was anxious to get rid of him. 'Now I am going; I
+only want to say one word, Blake: you will be safe to-night,
+your mother will not come near you.' Then a look of relief
+crossed Cyril's wan face. 'You shall, at least, have peace for a
+few hours. If I can help you in any way, you have only to
+speak. Will you remember that?'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I mean it. There, that is all I have got to say. God<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">{345}</a></span>
+bless you!' and as he grasped Cyril's hand there was a faint
+response.</p>
+
+<p>Michael crept down as softly as he could. As he passed
+the drawing-room door he could hear Mrs. Blake's hysterical
+sobs, and Biddy soothing her. 'The Nemesis has come,' he
+said to himself; and then he went into the lower room, where
+he found Mollie and Kester reading over the fire.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't let me disturb you,' he said hurriedly, as they both
+sprang up to greet him; 'Mollie, your brother wishes to be
+quiet to-night. He has just heard something that troubles him
+a good deal, and he has desired that no one should go near him.
+If I were you, I should take no notice at all.'</p>
+
+<p>'But what are we to do about supper?' returned Mollie
+with housewifely anxiety; 'we have such a nice supper, and
+Cyril will be so cold and hungry shut up in his room. We
+have made such a big fire, because he was going to spend the
+evening with us.'</p>
+
+<p>'He has a fire, too; he was very wet, and the room felt
+damp, so I lighted it. You might take up a tray to him
+presently and put it outside his door, and perhaps a cup of nice
+hot coffee.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! I will go and make it at once, and mamma shall
+have some, too.' And Mollie ran off in her usual impetuous
+manner, but Kester sat still in his place.</p>
+
+<p>'What is the matter, Captain Burnett?' he asked anxiously;
+'we heard mother crying just now, and saying that Cyril
+would not speak to her. Mollie heard it quite plainly, and so
+did I.'</p>
+
+<p>'You shall know all in good time, my dear boy,' returned
+Michael, laying his hand on Kester's shoulder; 'do not ask me
+any more just now.'</p>
+
+<p>Kester looked at him wistfully, but he was trained to
+self-discipline, and he asked no more; and Michael went back
+to Woodcote.</p>
+
+<p>It was just dinner-time, and the gong sounded before he was
+ready; but he made some easy excuse and slipped into his
+place, and began to talk to Dr. Ross about the new swimming-baths
+that were being built. It was the first topic that came
+handy to him, and Dr. Ross at once followed his lead; the
+subject lasted them until the end of dinner. Audrey was unusually
+silent, but neither of them made any remark on her
+gravity. Now and then Michael addressed some observation
+to her, but she answered him briefly and without interest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">{346}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>They went into the schoolroom for prayers as usual, and
+Audrey played the harmonium; but as he was following Mrs.
+Ross back into the drawing-room, Audrey tapped him on the
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't go in there just yet, Michael; I want to speak to
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>Then he suffered himself very reluctantly to be detained by
+the hall fire.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael,' she began, in rather a peremptory tone, 'I cannot
+understand either you or Cyril to-night. You are both very
+strange, I think. Cyril leaves me without a word, and goes
+out looking like a ghost, and you tell me that something is
+troubling him, and yet neither of you vouchsafes me one word of
+explanation.'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot help it, Audrey; it is not my affair. Blake was
+in a hurry; you must have seen that for yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'He was very extraordinary in his behaviour, and so were
+you. Of course, if you don't choose to answer me, Michael, I
+will just send a note across to Cyril, and tell him I must see
+him at once.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should hardly do that, if I were you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not write to him!' in an offended voice. 'Really, Michael,
+you are too mysterious; why, this borders on absurdity! Cyril
+is in trouble&mdash;in one breath you tell me that&mdash;and then you
+would prevent my writing to ask him to come to me! I shall
+certainly write to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will you go to your father instead? He has just gone into
+the study.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Audrey looked at him with intense astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>'What has my father got to do with it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind all that,' returned Michael slowly. 'Go to
+Dr. Ross, and ask him why Blake is in trouble. He will tell
+you; you may take my word for it.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey still gazed at him; but Michael's grave manner left
+her in no doubt as to the seriousness of the matter, and her eyes
+looked a little troubled.</p>
+
+<p>'Go, dear,' he repeated gently; 'it will be best for you to
+hear it from him.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she left him without another word, and went straight
+to the study.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed as though her father expected her, for he looked
+at her as she came slowly towards him, and put out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>'You have come to talk to me, my darling. Sit down beside<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">{347}</a></span>
+me. No, not that chair; it is too far off. Come closer to me,
+my child.'</p>
+
+<p>Then, as Audrey obeyed him, she felt a sense of growing
+uneasiness. What did that sorrowful tenderness in her
+father's voice mean? For the moment her courage failed her,
+and her lips could not frame the question she had come to
+ask.</p>
+
+<p>'You want me to tell you about Cyril's trouble?'</p>
+
+<p>Then she sat and gazed at him in speechless dread.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross cleared his throat and shifted his spectacles. He
+began to find his task difficult.</p>
+
+<p>'If I only knew how to prepare you, Audrey! But I can
+think of no words that will break the force of such a shock. I
+will tell you one thing: a few hours ago Cyril was as ignorant
+of the great trouble that has befallen him as you are at this
+present moment.'</p>
+
+<p>She touched him with a hand that had grown suddenly very
+cold.</p>
+
+<p>'Wait for one minute, father; I must ask you something:
+Did Michael tell this thing to Cyril this afternoon?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dear. By some strange chance Michael was put in
+possession of a terrible secret. There was no one else to break
+it to the poor fellow, and, as you and I know, Mike is not the
+man to shirk any unpleasant duty.'</p>
+
+<p>'I understand. You may go on now, father dear; I am
+prepared&mdash;I am quite prepared. I know it was no light trouble
+that brought that look on Cyril's face; and Michael, too, was
+very strange and unlike himself.' And then she composed herself
+to listen.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross told the story as carefully as he could, but he
+made no attempt to soften facts. A skilful surgeon cuts deep:
+the patient may quiver under the relentless knife, but the
+present pain will prevent lasting injury. Dr. Ross wished his
+daughter to see things from his point of view. It was impossible
+to spare her suffering; but she was young, and he hoped time
+and her own strong sense of duty would bring their own healing.
+He could not judge of the effect on her. Almost at his first
+words she had dropped her head upon his knees, and her face
+was hidden from him; and though his hand rested on her soft
+hair, she made no sign or movement.</p>
+
+<p>'That is all I have to tell you, my darling. No one knows
+but you and I and Michael. I have not told your mother; I
+thought it best to wait.' Then she stirred a little uneasily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">{348}</a></span>
+under his caressing hand. 'My own child, you do not need to
+be told how I grieve for you and Cyril; it is a bitter disappointment
+to you both; but&mdash;but'&mdash;his voice dropped a little&mdash;'you
+must give him up.'</p>
+
+<p>There was no perceptible start; only, as he said this, Audrey
+raised her face from his knee, and looked at him. She was
+very pale, but her eyes were quite dry; only the firm, beautiful
+lips trembled a little.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not understand, father. Why must I give him
+up?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why?' Dr. Ross could hardly believe his ears as he heard
+this. 'My child,' he said, with a touch of sternness, 'it is
+very easy to understand. Cyril is not to blame&mdash;he is as
+innocent as you are; but the son of Matthew O'Brien can never
+be my son-in-law.'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' she returned slowly, 'I suppose not. I ought not to
+be surprised to hear you say that.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is what any father would say, Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Anyhow, it is for you to say it, if you think it right, and it
+is for me to obey you.'</p>
+
+<p>Then he put his arm round her with an endearing word or
+two. She was his good, obedient child&mdash;his dearly-loved
+daughter, who had never grieved him in her life.</p>
+
+<p>'I trust I may never grieve you,' she replied gently; but
+there was a great solemnity in her eyes. 'Father, if you tell
+me that I must not marry Cyril, I shall be compelled to obey
+you; but it will break my heart to think that your mind is
+fully made up on this point.'</p>
+
+<p>'My darling, you are both very young, and in time&mdash;&mdash;'
+He stopped, arrested by the strangeness of her look.</p>
+
+<p>'You think that we shall get over it: that is your meaning,
+is it not? But I am afraid you are wrong. Cyril loves me too
+well; he would never get over it.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, my dear&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Father, will you listen to me for a moment? You need
+not fear that I should ever disobey you&mdash;you are my father, and
+that is enough. But I shall live in the hope that you will
+change your mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'My child, I must forbid that hope. I cannot let you cheat
+yourself with any such false supposition. My mind will know
+no change in this matter.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then, in that case, I shall never marry Cyril. If you cannot
+give me your blessing on my marriage, I will remain as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">{349}</a></span>
+am&mdash;Audrey Ross. But, father, I shall never give him up!
+Never&mdash;never!'</p>
+
+<p>'If Cyril be the man I think him, he will give you up,
+Audrey; he will be far too proud and honourable to hold you to
+your engagement.'</p>
+
+<p>'That may be,' she answered a little wearily. 'I know the
+strong pressure that will be put on him. You will have no
+difficulty with him; he will do as you wish. My poor Cyril!
+how can he do otherwise? But all the same, I shall be true to
+him as long as he and I live. I shall feel that I belong to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, my darling, do be sensible. When the engagement is
+broken off you will be free, utterly free.'</p>
+
+<p>But she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall never be free while Cyril lives. Father, you do not
+understand. He may set me free to-morrow, but I shall still
+consider myself bound. When he comes here, I shall tell him
+so, and I do not think he will misunderstand me.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross sighed. Here was an unexpected difficulty. She
+would obey him, but she would regard herself as the victim of
+filial obedience. She would not marry her lover without his
+consent, but she would have nothing to say to any other man.
+She would consider herself fettered by this hopeless betrothal.
+He had declined to accept the son of Matthew O'Brien as his
+son-in-law; but would not his own death set her free to fulfil
+her engagement? Dr. Ross groaned within himself as he
+thought of this. If only he could bring her to reason; but at
+his first word of pleading her eyes filled with tears.</p>
+
+<p>'Father, I can bear no more; you have made me very
+unhappy. I have promised not to marry without your consent;
+but no one on earth could make me give him up.'</p>
+
+<p>Then he looked at her very sorrowfully, and said no more.
+If she had thrown herself into his arms he could almost have
+wept with her. Would she ever know how his heart bled for
+her? But she only kissed him very quietly.</p>
+
+<p>'You are not angry with me, father?'</p>
+
+<p>'Angry with you? Oh, Audrey, my child, how can you ask
+such a question?'</p>
+
+<p>'That is well,' she returned calmly. 'There must never be
+anything between us. I could not bear that.' Then her breast
+heaved a little, and a large tear stole down her face. 'Will
+you tell mother and Michael what I have said&mdash;that I will
+never give him up?'</p>
+
+<p>And then she walked very slowly out of the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">{350}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later Michael came into the study. He did
+not speak; but the Doctor shook his head as he came silently
+towards him.</p>
+
+<p>'It is a bad business, Mike. That girl of mine will give us
+trouble. She is as good as gold, but she will give us trouble.'</p>
+
+<p>'She refuses to give him up?'</p>
+
+<p>Michael sat down as he asked the question; his strength
+seemed to have deserted him.</p>
+
+<p>'That is what she says&mdash;that she will regard herself as
+altogether bound to him. She is very firm. With all her
+goodness and sweetness, Audrey has a strong will.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that she will still marry him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not unless I will give my consent. No, Mike; she is a
+dutiful child. She will never give herself to any man without
+her parents' blessing and approval; but she will not marry
+anyone else.'</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a curious fixed look on Michael's face.</p>
+
+<p>'I am not surprised, Dr. Ross. Audrey is too generous to
+forsake any man when he is in trouble. She will not think of
+herself&mdash;she never does; her whole heart will be set on the
+thought of giving him comfort. You must not try to change
+her resolution. It would be useless.'</p>
+
+<p>'The deuce take it all!' returned the Doctor irritably.
+'For there will be no peace of mind for any of us, Mike.' But
+Dr. Ross's voice was hardly as clear as usual. 'I suppose I
+must just go and have it all out with Emmie&mdash;there is nothing
+like getting an unpleasant job over; she and Geraldine can put
+their heads together, but they had better keep Harcourt away
+from me.'</p>
+
+<p>And the Doctor stalked out of the room with an unwonted
+gloom on his genial face.</p>
+
+<p>Michael did not follow him. He sat still for a few minutes
+looking at the Doctor's empty chair.</p>
+
+<p>'I knew it; I could have said it. Audrey is just that sort
+of woman. She will never give him up&mdash;whether she loves
+him or not&mdash;as long as she feels he needs her. Poor Blake!
+poor fellow! Of the two, I hardly think he is the one to be
+pitied; but she will never find that out for herself. Never,
+never!'</p>
+
+<p>And then Booty scratched and whined at the door, and he
+got up and let him in.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">{351}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>'WHO WILL COMFORT HIM?'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Earth has nothing more tender than a woman's heart, when it is the
+abode of piety.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Luther.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Dr. Ross had deferred telling his wife for more than one reason:
+he dreaded the effect on her emotional nature, and, above all
+things, he hated a scene. But for once he was agreeably disappointed.
+Mrs. Ross received the news more quietly than he
+expected; the very suddenness and force of the shock made
+her summon up all her womanly fortitude to bear such an overwhelming
+misfortune. Her first thought was for Audrey, and
+she would have gone to her at once; but her husband gently
+detained her.</p>
+
+<p>'Give her time, Emmie; she has only just left me, and she
+will not be ready even for her mother. Sit down again, my
+dear; I cannot spare you yet.' And Mrs. Ross very reluctantly
+took her seat again on the couch.</p>
+
+<p>They talked a little more, and Mrs. Ross wept as she thought
+of that poor dear boy, as she called him; for Cyril had grown
+very dear to her, and she had begun to look on him as her own
+son. But it seemed as though the whole vial of her wrath was
+to be emptied on the head of Mrs. Blake. At any other time,
+and in different circumstances, Dr. Ross would have been
+amused at the scathing invectives that were uttered by his sweet-tempered
+wife.</p>
+
+<p>'But, my dear Emmie, you must consider her provocations.
+Think of a woman being tied to a feckless ne'er-do-well like
+Matthew O'Brien!'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't talk to me, John; I will not listen to you. Was
+she not his wedded wife, and the mother of his children? Had
+she not vowed to be faithful to him for better and for worse?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my dear; but you must allow it was for worse.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">{352}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'That may be; but she was bound to him all the same by
+her wifely duty. She might have saved him, but instead of
+that she has been his ruin. How dare any woman rob her
+husband of his own children, and forbid him to lay claim to
+them? She is a false, perjured wife!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross,
+with rising excitement.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, I am not defending her; but at least she is to be
+pitied now.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not think so. It is Cyril and Kester and Mollie who
+are to be pitied, for having such parents. My heart bleeds for
+them, but not for her. What will become of them all? How
+will that poor boy bear his life?'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know. But, Emmie, tell me one thing&mdash;you agree
+with me that Audrey must not marry him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course she must not marry him! What would Geraldine
+and Percival say?'</p>
+
+<p>Then the Doctor muttered 'Pshaw!'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, his name is not Blake at all. How could a daughter
+of ours form a connection with the O'Briens? My poor Audrey!
+And now, John, you must let me go to her.' And this time
+Dr. Ross made no objection.</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly midnight by this time, but Audrey had not
+thought of retiring to bed; she was sitting by her toilet-table,
+with her hands folded in her lap. Her mother's appearance
+seemed to surprise her.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear mother, why have you come? There was no need&mdash;no
+need at all.'</p>
+
+<p>Then, as her mother put her arms round her, she laid her
+head on her shoulder as though she were conscious of sudden
+weariness. Mrs. Ross's eyes were red with weeping, but Audrey's
+were still quite bright and dry.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother dear, you will be so tired!'</p>
+
+<p>'What does that matter? It is your father who is tired; he
+feels all this so terribly. My own darling, what am I to say to
+you in this awful trouble that has come upon you, but to beg
+you to be brave for all our sakes?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and for his, too.'</p>
+
+<p>'If I could only bear it for you&mdash;that is what a mother feels
+when her child suffers&mdash;if I could only take it from you, and
+carry it as my own burden!'</p>
+
+<p>Then the girl gently pressed her with her arms.</p>
+
+<p>'That is what I feel about him,' she returned, and there was
+a pained look in her eyes as she spoke. 'He is so young, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">{353}</a></span>
+all this is so terrible; his pride will suffer, and his heart, and
+his mother will be no comfort to him. If he only had you!'
+And then she did break down a little, but she soon recovered
+herself. 'I have been sitting here trying to find out why this
+has been allowed to happen to him. I think there is no one
+so good, except Michael. It is very dreadful!' And here she
+shuddered slightly. 'How will he live out his daily life and
+not grow bitter over it? My poor, poor Cyril!'</p>
+
+<p>'My darling, are you not thinking of yourself at all?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of myself? No, mother. Why should I think of myself?
+I have you and father and Michael&mdash;you will all comfort me;
+but who will comfort him?'</p>
+
+<p>'His Heavenly Father, Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes, you are right; but do young men think as we do?
+Cyril is good, but he never speaks of these things. He is not
+like Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'It was trouble that taught Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know; but I would fain have spared my poor Cyril
+such a bitter lesson. Mother, I want you to tell them all not
+to talk to me&mdash;I mean Michael and Gage and Percival; I could
+not bear it. As I told father, I shall never give him up. If he
+goes away, I must bid him good-bye; but if he will write to me
+I shall answer his letters.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not think your father would approve of that, Audrey.
+My child, consider&mdash;would it not be better, and more for Cyril's
+good, that you should give him up entirely?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, mother; I do not think so. I believe in my heart
+that the knowledge that I am still true to him will be his only
+earthly comfort. No one knows him as I do; his nature is
+very intense. He is almost as intense as Michael, and that is
+saying a great deal.'</p>
+
+<p>'My love, will you let your mother say one thing to you?&mdash;that
+I think you are making a grievous mistake, and that your
+father thinks so too.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know it, mother, and it pains me to differ from you both
+in this; but you will never convince me. I plighted my troth
+to Cyril because I loved him dearly, and nothing will change
+that love. It is quite true,' she continued dreamily, as though
+she were following out some train of habitual thought, 'that I
+have often asked myself if I loved him in the same way in which
+other girls cared for their lovers&mdash;as Gage did for Percival, for
+example&mdash;if mine were not too quiet and matter-of-fact an attachment;
+and I have never been able to answer myself satisfactorily.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">{354}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Have you not, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, mother dear; but of course this is in confidence: it
+must be sacred to you and me. I think I am different from most
+girls. I have never wished to be married; and dear as Cyril
+is to me, the thought of my wedding-day has always oppressed
+me. I have made him unhappy sometimes, because he saw
+that I shrank from it.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross felt a quick sense of relief that almost amounted
+to joy. Was Audrey in love with him, after all? She had
+never heard a girl talk so strangely. What an unutterable
+blessing it would be to them all if she were not utterly crushed
+by her misfortune, and if any future healing would be possible;
+but she was careful not to express this to her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>'My experience has been very different,' she answered quietly.
+'My happiest moments were those in which your dear father
+spoke of our future home. I think I was quite as averse to a
+long engagement as he was.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can believe it, mother dear, but our natures are not alike;
+but there is one thing on which we are agreed, that an engagement
+is almost as binding as marriage; that is,' correcting herself,
+'as long as two persons love each other.'</p>
+
+<p>'It ought not to be binding under such circumstances, Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ought it not? Ah, there we differ! With all my want of
+enthusiasm, my absence of sentimentality, I shall hold fast
+to Cyril. I have never yet regarded myself as his wife; I did
+not wish to so regard myself. But now I shall give myself up
+in thought wholly to him, and I pray God that this knowledge
+will give him comfort.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross was silent. She felt that she hardly understood
+her daughter; it was as though she had entered on higher
+ground, where the wrappings of some sacred mist enveloped her.
+This was not the language of earthly passion&mdash;this sublime
+womanly abnegation. It was not even the tender language of
+a Ruth, widowed in her affections, and cleaving with bounteous
+love and faith to the mother of her young Jewish husband,
+'Whither thou goest I will go;' and yet the inward cry of her
+heart seemed to be like that of honest Tom O'Brien: 'The
+Lord do so unto me, and more also, if ought but death part me
+and thee.'</p>
+
+<p>The one thought wholly possessed her that she might give
+him comfort.</p>
+
+<p>'My poor, dear child, if I could only make you feel differently!'</p>
+
+<p>Then Audrey laid her hand gently on her mother's lips. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">{355}</a></span>
+was an old habit of hers when she was a child, and too much
+argument had proved wearisome.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush! do not let us talk any more. I am so tired, so tired,
+mother, and I know you are, too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will you let me stay with you, darling?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Audrey looked at her trim little bed, and then at her
+mother, and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no room. What can you mean, mother dear? and
+I am not ill; I am never ill, am I?'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank God at least for that; but you are worse than ill&mdash;you
+are unhappy, my dear. Will you let me help you to
+undress, and then sit by you until you feel you can sleep?'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey only shook her head with another smile.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need. Kiss me, mother, and bid me good-night.
+I shall like to be with my own self in the darkness. There,
+another kiss; now go, or we shall both be frozen;' and Audrey
+gently pushed her to the door.</p>
+
+<p>'She would not let me stop with her, John!' exclaimed
+Mrs. Ross, as she entered her husband's dressing-room. 'She
+is very calm: unnaturally so, I thought; she hardly cried at
+all; she is thinking nothing of herself, only of him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know it is one o'clock, Emmie?' returned her
+husband rather shortly. He was tired and sore, poor man, and
+in no mood to hear of his daughter's sufferings. 'The deuce
+take the woman!' he said to himself fretfully, as Mrs. Ross
+meekly turned away without another word; but he was certainly
+not alluding to his wife when he spoke. 'From the days of
+Eve they have always been in some mischief or other'&mdash;from
+which it may be deduced that Mrs. Ross was not so far wrong
+when she thought her husband was threatened with gout, only
+his <i>malaise</i> was more of the mind. He was thinking of the
+interview that awaited him on the morrow. 'I would as lief
+cut off my right hand as tell him that he must not have Audrey,'
+he said to himself, as he laid his head on the pillow.</p>
+
+<p>Now, as Michael lay awake through the dark hours revolving
+many things in his uneasy brain, it occurred to him that he
+would send a note across to Cyril as soon as he heard the household
+stirring, and he carried out this resolution in spite of
+drowsiness and an aching head.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'<span class="smcap">My Dear Blake</span>,' he wrote,</p>
+
+<p>'Don't bother yourself about early school. I am on
+the spot, and can easily take your place. You will want to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">{356}</a></span>
+pull yourself together, and under the circumstances the boys
+would be an awful nuisance. I hope you have got some sleep.</p>
+
+<p class="signlet">'Yours,</p>
+
+<p class="sign">'<span class="smcap">M. O. Burnett.</span>'</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>To this came the following reply, scrawled on a half-sheet
+of paper:</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks awfully; will accept your offer. Please tell Dr.
+Ross that I will come across to him soon after ten.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor beggar! he is awake now, and pulling himself
+together with a vengeance. This looks well; now for the
+grind.'</p>
+
+<p>And Michael went down to the schoolroom and gave Cyril's
+class their divinity lesson with as much coolness and gravity
+as though his whole life had been spent in teaching boys.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross winced slightly as he gave him Cyril's message
+after breakfast, but he said, a moment afterwards: 'I intended
+sending for him; but I am glad he has saved me the trouble&mdash;only
+I wish it were over, Mike.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael shrugged his shoulders with a look of sympathy.
+He had no time to say more; he must take Cyril's place in the
+schoolroom again, in spite of all Booty's shivering solicitations
+for a walk this fine morning. 'Booty, old fellow,' he observed,
+as he noticed the little animal's manifest disappointment, 'you
+and I are not sent into the world to please ourselves; there
+are "still lame dogs to help over stiles," and a few burdens
+to shift on our own shoulders. If our head ache, what of
+that, Booty? It will be the same a hundred years hence.
+Now for Greek verbs and general discord, so right about face!'
+And if Booty did not understand this harangue, he certainly
+acted up to the spirit of it, for he pattered cheerfully after his
+master to the schoolroom, and curled himself up into a compact
+brown ball at his feet, to doze away the morning in doggish
+dreams.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Dr. Ross made a feint of reading his letters;
+but he found as he laid them down that their contents were
+hopelessly involved. Was it Rawlinson, for example, whom
+an anxious mother was confiding to his care? 'He had the
+measles last holidays, and has been very delicate ever since,
+and now this severe cold&mdash;&mdash;' Nonsense! It was not Rawlinson,
+it was Jackson minor, and he was all right and had eaten
+an excellent breakfast; but he thought Major Sowerby's letter
+ought to be answered at once. He never allowed parents to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">{357}</a></span>
+break his rules; it was such nonsense sending for Charlie
+home, just because an uncle had come from India. He must
+write and remonstrate; the boy must wait until the term was
+over&mdash;it would only be a fortnight. And then he read the
+letter again with growing displeasure, and found that Captain
+MacDonald was the name of the erring parent.</p>
+
+<p>'I will settle all that,' he remarked, as he plunged his pen
+rather savagely into the inkstand; and then a tap at the door
+made him start, and a huge blot was the result. Of course it
+was Cyril, who was standing at the door looking at him.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you disengaged, Dr. Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes&mdash;yes. Come in, my dear fellow, and shut the door.'</p>
+
+<p>And then Dr. Ross jumped up from his seat and grasped
+the young man's hand; but his first thought was, What would
+Audrey say when she saw him? Could one night have effected
+such a change? There was a wanness, a heaviness of aspect,
+that made him look ten years older. Somehow Dr. Ross
+found it necessary to take off his spectacles and wipe them
+before he commenced the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'My poor boy, what am I to say to you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Say nothing, sir; it would be far better. I have come&mdash;&mdash;' Here
+Cyril paused; the dryness of his lips seemed to
+impede his utterance. 'I have come to know your wishes.'</p>
+
+<p>'My wishes!' repeated Dr. Ross in a pained voice; and
+then he put his hand on his shoulder: 'Cyril, do not misjudge
+me, do not think me hard if you can help it, but I cannot give
+you my daughter.'</p>
+
+<p>He had expected that Cyril would have wrenched himself
+free from his detaining hand as he heard him, but to his
+surprise he remained absolutely motionless.</p>
+
+<p>'I know it, Dr. Ross. There was no need to tell me that&mdash;nothing
+would induce me to marry her.'</p>
+
+<p>Then the Doctor felt as though he could have embraced
+him.</p>
+
+<p>'Why should you think so meanly of me,' went on Cyril in
+the same heavy, monotonous voice, as though he were repeating
+some lesson that he had carefully conned and got by heart, 'as
+to suppose that I should take advantage of her promise and
+yours? If you will let me see her, I will tell her so. Do you
+think I would drag her down to my level&mdash;mine?'</p>
+
+<p>'You are acting nobly.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am acting as necessity compels me,' returned Cyril with
+uncontrollable bitterness. 'Do you think I would give her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">{358}</a></span>
+up, even at your command, Dr. Ross, if I dared to keep her?
+But I dare not&mdash;I dare not!'</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril, for my peace of mind, tell me this one thing&mdash;have
+I ever been unjust to you in all our relations together?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Dr. Ross. I have never met with anything but
+kindness from you and yours.'</p>
+
+<p>'When you came to me five months ago and told me you
+loved my daughter, did I repulse you?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Cyril shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>'But I was very frank with you. I told you even then that
+I had a right to look higher for my son-in-law, but that, as
+you seemed necessary to my girl's happiness, your poverty and
+lack of influence should not stand in your way. When I said
+this, Cyril, when I stretched out the right hand of fellowship
+to you, I meant every word that I said. I was teaching
+myself to regard you as a son; as far as any man could do such
+a thing, I intended to take your future under my care. In all
+this I did you no wrong.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have never wronged me, sir,' and with a low but
+distinct emphasis: 'God forbid that I should wrong either you
+or her.'</p>
+
+<p>'No! My heart was always full of kindness to you.
+Young as you were&mdash;young in years and in work&mdash;you had
+won my entire respect and esteem. I thank you, Cyril&mdash;I
+thank you in my own and in my wife's name&mdash;that I can
+respect you as highly as ever.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross's voice faltered with emotion, and the hand that
+still lay on Cyril's shoulder trembled visibly; but there was no
+answering gleam of emotion on the young man's face.</p>
+
+<p>'You mean it kindly, Dr. Ross, but I have not deserved
+this praise.' He spoke coldly, proudly. 'Have I an unsullied
+name to offer any woman? And even if this difficulty could
+be got over, do I not know that my career is over? Would
+you&mdash;would any other man, do you think&mdash;employ me as a
+master? I have been facing this question all night, and I
+know that, as far as my worldly prospects are concerned, I am
+practically ruined.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no; you must not say that. There are plenty of
+openings for a clever man. You shall have my help. I will
+employ my influence; I have powerful friends. We might
+find you a secretaryship.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think a clerkship will be more likely,' returned Cyril, in
+the same hard voice, though the pent-up pain threatened to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">{359}</a></span>
+suffocate him. 'I may have some difficulty even there; people
+like their clerks to be respectably connected, and when one's
+father has been in prison&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But Dr. Ross would not let him proceed.</p>
+
+<p>'My poor boy, your father's sin is not yours. No one can
+rob you of your self-respect and stainless honour. If it were
+not for Audrey, I might even venture to brave public opinion
+and keep you myself. It might bring me into trouble with
+Charrington, but, as you know, I am my own master. I could
+have talked him over and got him to hush it up, and we could
+have moved your mother to a little distance. Yes, Cyril, I
+would have done it; you should have fought out your battle
+at my side, if it were not for my child.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know how to thank you for saying this;' and
+Cyril's rigidity relaxed and he spoke more naturally. 'I shall
+never forget this, Dr. Ross&mdash;never, never! But'&mdash;here his
+voice shook&mdash;'you will let me go&mdash;you will not make me stop
+when people begin to talk about it? I am no coward, but
+there are some things too hard to put on any man; and to do
+my work when I see on the boys' faces that they know everything&mdash;it
+would be the death of me. I could not stand it&mdash;no,
+by heavens! I could not.'</p>
+
+<p>'You shall not be asked to bear it. My poor boy, have you
+no faith in me? Do you think I should ask you to perform so
+cruel, so impossible a duty? From this hour you are free,
+Cyril; do not trouble about your work. I can find a substitute,
+or, if that fails, I will do your work myself. You are ill&mdash;it
+will be no falsehood to say that&mdash;and in another fortnight the
+school will break up. Keep quiet&mdash;go away somewhere for a
+time, and take Burnett into your confidence; he will be a
+better friend for you just now than I.'</p>
+
+<p>'I doubt it, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>Then the Doctor's eyes glistened with tears.</p>
+
+<p>'God help you, my dear fellow! You are doing the right,
+and He will. This is not good-bye; I will see you again.
+Now go to her, and teach my child to do the right too.' And
+then Dr. Ross turned his back upon him rather abruptly, and
+walked to the window.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">{360}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2>
+
+<h3>'YOU WILL LIVE IT DOWN'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Sweet the thought, our lives, my love.</div>
+<div class="vind2">Parted ne'er may be,</div>
+<div class="verse">Though between thy heart and mine</div>
+<div class="vind2">Leagues of land and sea.</div>
+<div class="sep">******</div>
+<div class="verse">Of this twofold life and love,</div>
+<div class="vind2">Twofold running fate,</div>
+<div class="verse">Sad and lone we may be oft,</div>
+<div class="vind2">Never desolate.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Britton.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Cyril knew where he should find Audrey; she was generally
+in her own little sitting-room until luncheon. Sometimes her
+mother or Mollie would be with her, but this morning he felt
+instinctively that she would be alone.</p>
+
+<p>She was sitting by the window, and there was some work
+on her lap, but she did not seem to be employing herself. She
+had bidden Cyril enter, and directly she saw him she rose from
+her seat and crossed the room somewhat quickly to meet him;
+but he did not at once speak to her, neither did he offer his
+usual greeting.</p>
+
+<p>She waited for a moment to see what he would do; then
+she put up her face to him.</p>
+
+<p>'Why do you not kiss me, Cyril?' she said, a little reproachfully;
+and then he did take her in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>'It is for the last time!' he murmured, as he pressed her
+almost convulsively to him.</p>
+
+<p>But she made no answer to this; when he had set her free,
+she took his hand very quietly, and led him to a seat that stood
+beside her chair. His hand was cold, and she kept it in both
+her own as though to warm it.</p>
+
+<p>'I knew you would come to me,' she said very softly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">{361}</a></span>
+'How ill you look, my poor Cyril! You have not slept. Oh
+yes, I know all about it. And you have been to father, and
+you have both made yourselves very miserable. Do you think
+I do not know that? Poor father! and he is so tender-hearted.'</p>
+
+<p>'I tried to spare him,' he returned wearily. 'I did not
+wish to put him to any trouble. I must dree my own weird,
+Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I shall have to dree it too. Cyril, my darling, you
+shall not bear your trouble alone; it is far too heavy for you.
+As far as we can&mdash;as far as our duty permits, we will bear it
+together.' And then, as though the haggardness of his young
+face was too much for her, she came closer to him, and laid her
+head on his shoulder. 'We will bear it together, Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Audrey, my one blessing, that cannot be. Do you
+know what I have come to say to you this morning? That
+our engagement must be at an end&mdash;that you are free, quite
+free.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I do not wish for freedom.'</p>
+
+<p>'My darling, you ought to wish for it. Under the circumstances,
+it is quite impossible that we should ever be married.
+I am a ruined man, Audrey; I have lost my good name, my
+work, my worldly credit; my connections are disreputable.
+By this time you must know that I have a father living, and
+that his name&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But she gently checked him.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dear, I know all.'</p>
+
+<p>'And yet you can tell me that you do not desire freedom?
+But that is all your goodness, and because you do not wish to
+pain me. Audrey, when I tell you that I must give up the
+idea of ever calling you my wife, it seems to me as though the
+bitterness of death were on me.'</p>
+
+<p>'My poor Cyril!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I am poor indeed; I never dreamt of such poverty.
+They might have taken from me everything, and I would not
+have murmured, if they had only left me my faith in my mother,
+and if they had not robbed me of my love!'</p>
+
+<p>'She is yours still, Cyril. No, do not turn from me; I
+mean it&mdash;I mean it! If you give me up, if you say to yourself
+that our engagement is broken, it must be as you choose, and I
+must let you go. No woman can compel a man to remain
+bound to her. But the freedom is on your side alone; I neither
+ask nor desire to be free.'</p>
+
+<p>'Darling, darling, what can you mean?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">{362}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'If you say that you will never marry me,' she continued,
+with an air of deep sadness, 'I suppose you will keep your
+word; perhaps you are right in saying so. I would not marry
+you without my father's consent, and he tells me he will never
+give it; but, Cyril, you may rest assured of this, that in your
+lifetime I will never marry another man.'</p>
+
+<p>Then he threw himself at her feet, and, taking her hands in
+his, begged her for very pity's sake to stop.</p>
+
+<p>'I love you, Audrey! I think I never loved you before as I
+do now! but do you think I would permit such a sacrifice?'</p>
+
+<p>'How are you to help it?' she returned, with a faint smile
+that was very near tears; 'and it would be no sacrifice, as far
+as I know my own heart. I think my one wish is to comfort
+you, and to make your life a little less dreary, Cyril,' looking
+at him earnestly; and it seemed to him as though her face
+were like an angel's. 'You will be brave and bear this for my
+sake. When you are tempted to lose faith, and hope seems
+farthest from you, you must say to yourself: "Audrey has not
+deserted me; she is mine still&mdash;mine always and for ever!"'</p>
+
+<p>Then he bowed his head on her hands and wept like a child.
+She passed her hand over his hair caressingly, and her own
+tears flowed; but after a little while she spoke again:</p>
+
+<p>'I have told father so, and I have told mother; I said to
+both of them that I would never give you up. We may live
+apart. Oh yes, I know that it is all very sad and miserable;
+but you will let me keep your ring, Cyril, because I still belong
+to you.'</p>
+
+<p>He tried to steady his voice, and failed; all his manhood
+could not give him fortitude at such a moment. He could
+only clasp her in his arms, and beg her for her own sweet sake
+to listen to him.</p>
+
+<p>And presently, when he was a little stronger, he put it all
+before her. He explained to her as well as he could the future
+that lay before him; the yoke of his father's sin was on his
+neck, and it was useless to try and break it off. He might
+call himself Blake, and look for new work in a new place, and
+the miserable fact would leak out.</p>
+
+<p>There is a fatality in such cases, he went on. 'One may
+try to hush it up, to live quietly, to attract no notice; but
+sooner or later the secret will ooze out. I think I am prouder
+than most men&mdash;perhaps I am morbid; but I feel I shall never
+live down this shame.'</p>
+
+<p>'You will live it down one day.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">{363}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes, the day they put me in my coffin; but not before,
+Audrey.' Then, as she turned pale at the thought, he accused
+himself bitterly for his selfishness. 'I am making you wretched,
+and you are an angel of goodness!' he cried remorsefully.
+'But you must forgive me, darling; indeed, I am not myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think I do not know that?'</p>
+
+<p>'A braver man than I might shrink from such a future.
+What have I done that such a thing should happen to me? I
+loved my work, and now it is taken from me; as far as I know,
+I may have to dig for my bread.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, no!' she returned, holding him fast; for this was more
+than she could bear to hear&mdash;that the bright promise of his
+youth was blasted and destroyed. 'Cyril, if you love me, as
+you say you do, will you promise me two things?'</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her a little doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>'If I love you!' he said reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Then I will alter my sentence, I will say, because of your
+love for me, will you grant me these two things? Cyril, you
+must forgive your mother. However greatly she has erred, you
+must remember that it was for your sake.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do remember it.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you will be good to her?'</p>
+
+<p>Then, his face became very stern.</p>
+
+<p>'I will do my duty to her. I think I may promise you
+that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dearest, I do not doubt it. When have you ever failed in
+your duty? But I want more than that: you must try so that
+your heart may be softer to her; you are her one thought; with
+all her faults, I think no mother ever loved her son so well.
+It is not the highest love, perhaps, since she has stooped to
+deceit and wrong for your sake; but, Cyril, it is not for you to
+judge her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps not; but how am I to refrain from judging her?
+To me truth is the one absolute virtue&mdash;the very crown and
+chief of virtues. That is why I first loved you, Audrey&mdash;because
+of your trustworthiness. But now I have lost my
+mother&mdash;nay, worse, she has never existed!'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not quite understand you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think my mother&mdash;the mother I believed in&mdash;could
+have acted this life-long lie? Would she have worn widows'
+weeds, and utterly forsworn herself? No; with all her faults,
+such crooked ways would have been impossible. Audrey, you
+must give me time to become acquainted with this new mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">{364}</a></span>
+I will not be hard to her, if I can possibly help it; but'&mdash;here
+the bitterness of his tone betrayed his deep agony&mdash;'she can
+never be to me again what she has been.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I will not press you any more, Cyril. I have such
+faith in you, that I believe you will come through even this
+ordeal; but there is something more I must ask you: Will you
+let Michael be your friend?'</p>
+
+<p>'We are friends, are we not?' he said, a little bewildered
+at this.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! but I would have you close friends. Dear, you must
+think of me&mdash;how unhappy I shall be unless I know you have
+someone to stand by you in your trouble. If you would let my
+father help you!' But a shake of the head negatived this.
+'Well, then, it must be Michael, our good, generous Michael,
+who will be like a brother to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not feel as though any man could help me.'</p>
+
+<p>'No one but Michael. Dear Cyril, give me my way in
+this. We are going to part, remember, and it may be for a
+long term of years; but if you value my peace of mind, promise
+me that you will not turn from Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well; I will promise you that. Have you any more
+commands to lay upon me, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' she returned wistfully; 'be yourself, your true, brave,
+honest self, and all may yet be well. Now go! We have said
+all that needs to be said, and I must not keep you. You are
+free, my dear one; but it is I who am bound, who am still yours
+as much as ever. When we shall meet again, God knows; but
+in heart and in thought I shall be with you wherever you may
+go. Now kiss me, but you need not tell me again it is for the
+last time.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she put her arms round his neck, and for a minute or
+two they held each other silently.</p>
+
+<p>'My blessing, my one blessing!' murmured Cyril hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>Then she gently pushed him from her.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, your blessing. You may call me that always, if you
+will.' And then, still holding his hand, she walked with him
+to the door; and as he stood looking at her with that despair
+in his eyes, she motioned to him to leave her. 'Go, dearest;
+I cannot bear any more.' And then he obeyed her.</p>
+
+<p class="thoughtbreak">******</p>
+
+<p>A few hours afterwards her mother found her lying on her
+bed, looking very white and spent.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you ill, Audrey? My dear, your father is so anxious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">{365}</a></span>
+about you, and so is Michael. When you did not appear at
+luncheon, they wanted me to go to you at once. Crauford says
+you have eaten nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear mother, what does that matter? I am quite well,
+only so very tired. My strength seemed to desert me all at
+once, so I thought I would lie down and keep quiet. But you
+must tell father that I am not ill.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall tell him how good and brave you are,' returned her
+mother, caressing her; 'Audrey, did Crauford tell you that
+Geraldine is here?'</p>
+
+<p>Then a shadow passed over Audrey's pale face.</p>
+
+<p>'No, mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'She came up the moment luncheon was over to ask if you
+could go with her to Beverley, and of course she saw at once
+that something was amiss. Your father took her into the study
+and told her himself. She is very much upset. That is why I
+have left you so long.'</p>
+
+<p>'I did not know it was long,' returned Audrey, speaking in
+the same tired voice; 'it seems to me only a few minutes since
+Crauford took away the tray.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is nearly four o'clock,' replied Mrs. Ross, looking at her
+anxiously&mdash;could it be her bright, strong girl who was lying
+there so prostrate? 'Geraldine has been here nearly two hours.
+She sent her love to you, darling, and wanted so much to know
+if she could see you; but I shall tell her you are not fit to see
+anyone.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know that,' returned Audrey in a hesitating
+manner; 'I was just wishing that I could speak to Michael.
+If you had not come up, I think I should have put myself
+straight and gone downstairs. I think I may as well see Gage
+for a moment; it is better to get things over.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Audrey, I am quite sure it would be wiser for you to
+keep quiet to-day; you have had such a terrible strain. Everyone
+ought to do their best to spare you.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I do not want to be spared,' returned Audrey, echoing
+her mother's sigh; 'so please send Gage to me, and tell her
+not to stop too long. Crauford can tell her when tea is ready.'
+And then Mrs. Ross left her very reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine's face was suffused with tears as she sat down
+beside the bed and took her sister's hand. Audrey shook her
+head at her.</p>
+
+<p>'Gage, I don't mean to allow this; you and mother are not
+to make yourselves miserable on my account.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">{366}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'How are we to help it, Audrey?' replied Geraldine with a
+sob; 'I have never seen you look so ill in your life, and no
+wonder&mdash;this unhappy engagement! Oh, what will Percy say
+when I tell him?'</p>
+
+<p>'He will be very shocked, of course. Everyone will be
+shocked. Perhaps both he and you will say it serves me right,
+because I would not take your advice and have nothing to do
+with the Blakes. Gage, I want you to do me one favour: tell
+Percival not to talk to me. Give him my love&mdash;say anything
+you think best&mdash;only do not let him speak to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'He shall not, dearest; I will not let him. But all the
+same, he will grieve bitterly. He knows how bad it will be for
+you, and how people will talk. I have been telling mother
+that you ought to go away until things have blown over a
+little.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was silent. This was not the sympathy her sore
+heart needed. Geraldine's tact was at fault here; but the
+next moment Geraldine said, with manifest effort:</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril has behaved very well. Father seems very much
+impressed with his behaviour; he says that he offered at once
+to release you from your engagement.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'Percy will say he has acted like a gentleman; that is the
+highest praise from him. Dear&mdash;dearest Audrey, you will not
+think that I am not sorry for you both when I say that this is
+a great relief to me?'</p>
+
+<p>'A relief to you that Cyril is free?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and that you are free too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, but I am not,' moving restlessly on her pillow. 'There
+you are making a mistake, Gage. I thought father would have
+told you. I am still engaged to Cyril; I shall always be engaged
+to him, although perhaps we shall never be married.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Audrey&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Gage, we are not going to argue about it, I hope;
+I am far, far too tired, and my mind is made up, as I told
+father. I shall never give my poor boy up&mdash;never, never!&mdash;as
+long as he is in the world and needs me.' Then, as she saw
+the distress on her sister's face, she put her hand again into
+hers. 'You won't love me less for being so wilful, Gage? If
+anyone had asked you to give up Percival when you were
+engaged to him, do you think you would have listened?'</p>
+
+<p>'Is that not very different, darling?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; not so very different. Perhaps I do not love Cyril<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">{367}</a></span>
+quite in the same way you loved Percival, our natures are so
+dissimilar; but, at least, he is very dear to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that you will break your heart because of
+this? Oh, Audrey!' and Geraldine's face was very sad.</p>
+
+<p>'No, dear; hearts are not so easily broken, and I do not
+think that mine would be so weak and brittle. But the
+thought of his sorrow will always be present with me, and, in
+some sense, I fear my life will be clouded.'</p>
+
+<p>Then her sister caressed her again with tears.</p>
+
+<p>'But it will not be as bad for me as for him; for I shall
+have you all to comfort me, and I know how good you will all
+be. You will be ready to share even your child with me,
+Gage, if you think that will console me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and Percival will be good to you, too.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure of that; only you must ask him not to speak to
+me. Now I am very tired, and I must ask you to leave me.
+Go down to mother, dear Gage.'</p>
+
+<p>But it seemed as though Geraldine could hardly tear herself
+away.</p>
+
+<p>'I will do anything, if only you will promise to be happy
+again,' she said, kissing her with the utmost affection. 'Remember
+how necessary you are to us. What would any of us
+do without you? To-morrow I shall bring your godson to see
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>Then, at the thought of her baby-nephew, a faint smile
+crossed Audrey's face.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">{368}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2>
+
+<h3>MICHAEL ACCEPTS HIS CHARGE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Try how the life of the good man suits thee: the life of him who is
+satisfied with his portion out of the whole, and satisfied with his own
+just acts and benevolent disposition.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">M. Aurelius Antoninus.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Michael's morning in the schoolroom had been truly purgatorial;
+fortunately for him, it was a half-holiday, and the
+luncheon-hour set him free from his self-imposed duties. On
+his way to his own room, he had overheard Geraldine's voice
+speaking to her father, and he at once guessed the reason why
+Dr. Ross had invited her into the study.</p>
+
+<p>He had never been less enamoured of solitude and of his
+own society; nevertheless, he told himself that any amount of
+isolation would be preferable to the penalty of hearing Geraldine
+discuss the matter. He could hear in imagination her clear
+sensible premises and sound, logical conclusion, annotated by
+womanly lamentations over such a family disaster. The
+probable opinions of Mrs. Bryce and Mrs. Charrington would
+be cited and commented on, and, in spite of her very real
+sympathy with her sister, Michael shrewdly surmised that the
+knowledge that the Blake influence was waning would give her
+a large amount of comfort in the future.</p>
+
+<p>When Crauford announced that the ladies were having tea
+in the drawing-room, he begged that a cup might be sent up
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you tell Mrs. Harcourt that I have a headache?' he
+said; and, as Crauford delivered the message, Geraldine looked
+meaningly at her mother.</p>
+
+<p>'I expect Michael has taken all this to heart,' she said, as
+soon as Crauford had left the room; 'he is very feeling, and
+then he is so fond of Audrey.' And as Mrs. Ross sighed in
+assent, she went on with the topic that was engrossing them at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">{369}</a></span>
+that moment&mdash;how Audrey was to be induced to leave home
+for a while.</p>
+
+<p>Michael's table was strewn with books, and one lay open
+on his knee, but he had not once turned the page. How was
+he to read when the very atmosphere seemed charged with
+heaviness and oppression?</p>
+
+<p>'She thinks that she loves him, and therefore she will
+suffer,' he said to himself over and over again; 'and it will be
+for the first time in her life; for she has often told me that she
+has never known trouble. But her suffering will be like a
+grain of sand in comparison with his. Oh, I know what he is
+feeling now! To have had her, and then to have lost her!
+Poor fellow! it is a cruel fate.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael pondered drearily over the future that lay before
+them all. How was he to bear himself, he wondered, under
+circumstances so exasperating? She was free, and he knew her
+to be free&mdash;for Cyril would never claim her&mdash;and yet she
+would regard herself as altogether bound.</p>
+
+<p>He must go away, he thought; not at once&mdash;not while she
+needed him&mdash;but by and by, when things were a little better.
+Life at Rutherford was no longer endurable to him; for months
+past, ever since her engagement, he had chafed under a sense
+of insupportable restlessness. A sort of fever oppressed him&mdash;a
+longing to be free from the influence that dominated him.</p>
+
+<p>'If I stay here I must tell her how it is with me, and that
+will only make her more miserable,' he thought. 'She is not
+like other women&mdash;I never saw one like her. There is something
+unreasonable in her generosity. Girls sometimes say
+things they do not mean, and then repent of their impulsiveness;
+but she will never repent, whether she loves him or
+not. She believes that it is her mission to comfort him.
+Perhaps, if I had appealed to her, I might have made her
+believe that she had a different mission. Oh, my dear, if it
+only could have been so!'</p>
+
+<p>And he sighed in the bitterness of his spirit; for he knew
+that in his unselfishness he had never wooed her.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment there was a light tap at his door, and he
+started to his feet with a quick exclamation of surprise as
+Audrey entered. He had been thinking of her at that moment,
+and he almost felt as though the intensity of his thoughts
+had attracted her by some unconscious magnetism; but a glance
+at her dispelled this illusion.</p>
+
+<p>She was dressed for dinner, and he noticed that there was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">{370}</a></span>
+an air of unusual sombreness about her attire, as though she
+felt that any gaiety of apparel would be incongruous. And as
+she came closer to him, he was struck with her paleness and
+the sadness in her large gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael,' she said, in a low voice, 'I want to speak to you.
+I hope I am not interrupting you.'</p>
+
+<p>'You never interrupt me,' he returned quickly. 'Besides, I
+am doing nothing. Sit down, dear, and then we shall talk
+more comfortably.' For he noticed that she spoke with an air
+of lassitude that was unusual to her, and her strong lithe figure
+swayed a little, as though with weakness.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think you should be here?' he asked, with grave
+concern. 'You look ill, Audrey, as though you ought to be
+resting in your own room.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have been resting,' she replied gently. 'And then Gage
+came to me, and after that I thought I had been idle long
+enough. Michael,'&mdash;and here her lips quivered as though she
+found it difficult to maintain her self-control&mdash;'you know all
+that has happened. Cyril has gone away&mdash;he has said good-bye
+to me&mdash;and he looks as though his heart were broken. I
+have done what I could to comfort him. I have told him that
+I shall always be true to him; but it is not in my power to
+help him more.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Audrey,' he said&mdash;for he understood her meaning
+well, and there was no need for her to speak more plainly&mdash;'it
+was not for me to go to him after such a parting as that. The
+presence of one's dearest friend would be intolerable.'</p>
+
+<p>'I did not mean to-day,' she returned sadly; 'but there is
+to-morrow, and there is the future. And he has no friend who
+is worthy of the name. Michael, there is no one in the whole
+world who could help him as you could. This is the favour I
+have come to ask you.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is granted, Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>Then her eyes were full of tears as he said this.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I knew you would not refuse! When have you ever
+refused to do a kindness for anyone? Michael, I told my poor
+boy to-day that if he valued my peace of mind he would consent
+to be guided by your advice. He is so young; he does not
+know the world as you do, and he is so terribly unhappy; but
+if you would only help him&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear,' he said very quietly, 'there is no need to distress
+yourself, or to say any more; we have always understood each
+other without words. You are giving me this charge because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">{371}</a></span>
+you are unable to fulfil it yourself. You wish me to be a good
+friend to poor Blake, to watch over him and interest myself in
+his welfare&mdash;that is, as far as one man will permit another to
+do so. Well, I can promise you that without a moment's
+hesitation. I will be as solicitous for him as though he were
+my brother. Will that content you?'</p>
+
+<p>But he could not easily forget the look of gratitude that
+answered him.</p>
+
+<p>'God bless you, Michael! I will not try to thank you.
+Perhaps some day&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>She stopped as though unable to say more.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh,' he said lightly, and crushing down some dangerous
+emotion as he spoke, 'I have done nothing to deserve thanks.
+Even if you had not asked me this, do you think I would have
+gone on my own way, like the Levite in the parable, and left
+that poor fellow to shift for himself? No, my dear, no; I am
+not quite so flinty-hearted. Unless Blake will have none of
+my help&mdash;unless he absolutely repulse me&mdash;I will try as far as
+lies in my power to put him on his feet again.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will not repulse you; I have his word for that. Ah!
+there is the dinner-bell, and I have not said all that I wanted.
+The day seems as though it would never end, and yet there is
+time for nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'You will not come downstairs, Audrey? Let me ask your
+mother to excuse you. See! you can stay in this room; I can
+clear the table and put things ship-shape for you.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she looked at him with the same air of innocent surprise
+with which she had regarded her mother the previous night,
+when she had asked to remain with her.</p>
+
+<p>'Why do you all treat me as though I were an invalid?' she
+said protestingly. 'I am not ill, Michael. What does it
+matter where one eats one's dinner? It is true I am not
+hungry, but there is father&mdash;why should I make him uncomfortable?
+We must think of other people always, and under all
+circumstances.'</p>
+
+<p>She seemed to be saying this to herself more than to him, as
+though she would remind herself of her duty. Michael said no
+more, but as he followed her downstairs he told himself that no
+other girl could have borne herself so bravely and so sweetly
+under the circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>He wondered at her still more as he sat opposite to her at
+table, and saw the quiet gravity with which she took her part
+in the conversation. She spoke a word or two about her sister,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">{372}</a></span>
+and mentioned of her own accord that she had promised to bring
+Leonard to see her the next day.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not mean to call him baby,' she said; 'he is far too
+important a personage. Did you hear nurse speak of him as
+Master Baby the other day? I think Gage must have given her
+a hint about it.'</p>
+
+<p>And then she listened with an air of interest as her mother
+related a little anecdote that recurred to her memory of
+Geraldine's babyhood.</p>
+
+<p>But he saw her flush painfully when Mrs. Ross commented
+on her want of appetite.</p>
+
+<p>'You have eaten nothing to-day, Crauford tells me,' she
+continued anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>'One cannot always be hungry, mother dear,' she said gently;
+but it was evident that her mother's kindly notice did not
+please her.</p>
+
+<p>And she seemed still more distressed when her father once
+rose from his place to give her some wine.</p>
+
+<p>'Why do you do that?' she asked, with a touch of impatience.
+'It is not for you to wait on me, father. Michael would have
+filled my glass quite easily.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are paying me a very bad compliment, Audrey,'
+returned Dr. Ross with a smile. 'You are telling me that I
+am too much of an old fogey to wait on ladies. Mike is the
+younger man, of course, and if you should prefer that he should
+help you to madeira&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'No, father, it is not that; but it is for me to wait on you.
+You must never, never do that for me again.'</p>
+
+<p>And somehow Dr. Ross seemed to have no answer ready as
+he went back to his chair.</p>
+
+<p>But when she was alone with her mother she spoke still
+more plainly. Mrs. Ross had persuaded her to take the corner
+of the couch; but as she stood by her manipulating the cushions
+and adjusting them more comfortably, Audrey turned round
+quickly and took hold of her hands.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother, do please sit down. I think you have all entered
+into a conspiracy to-night to kill me with kindness.'</p>
+
+<p>'We are so sorry for you, darling.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps I am sorry for myself; but is that any reason why
+I should be treated as though I had lost the use of my limbs?
+I want you to behave to me as usual; it will be far better
+for me and you too. Why did not father and Michael talk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">{373}</a></span>
+politics, instead of making little cut-and-dried speeches that
+seemed to fit into nothing?'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay they found it very difficult to talk at all under the
+circumstances.'</p>
+
+<p>'That sounds as though I had better have remained upstairs,
+as Michael suggested; indeed, I must do so if you will persist
+in regarding me as the skeleton at the feast.'</p>
+
+<p>'My darling child, how you talk! Surely you will allow
+your parents to share your sorrow?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, mother; that is just what I cannot allow; no one
+shall be burdened with my troubles. Listen to me, mother
+dear: I think people make a great mistake about this; they
+mean to be kind, but it is not true kindness; they are ready to
+give everything&mdash;sympathy, watchfulness, attention&mdash;but they
+withhold the greatest gift of all, the freedom, the solitude, for
+which the sufferer craves.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that we are to leave you alone, Audrey? Oh,
+my dear, this is a hard saying for a mother to hear!'</p>
+
+<p>'But it is not too hard for my mother,' returned Audrey
+caressingly. 'Yes, I would have you leave me alone until I
+recover myself. I would be treated as you have always treated
+me, and not as though I were a maimed and sickly member of
+the flock. Neither would I be reminded every moment of the
+day that any special hurt has come to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I am not to ask you even to rest yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, not even that. I would rather a thousand times that
+you gave me some work or errand. Mother dear,' and here
+her voice was very sad, 'I will not deny that this is a great
+trouble, and that my life will not be as easy and as happy as
+it used to be. The shadow of my poor boy's sorrow will be
+a heavy burden for me to bear; but we must ask God to
+lighten it for both of us. I tell you this to-night because you
+are my own dear mother, and such confidence is your due;
+but after to-night I shall not say it again. If you and father
+wish to help me, it will be by allowing me to feel that I am
+still your comfort;' and then she threw herself in her mother's
+arms. 'Tell father this,' she whispered, 'and ask him to give
+me time. One day, perhaps, I shall be more like my old self;
+but we must wait: it is too soon to expect much of me yet.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will tell your father you are our good, dear child, Audrey,
+and you shall have your way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you; I knew you would understand. After all,
+there is no one like one's mother.' And then she sighed, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">{374}</a></span>
+Mrs. Ross knew where her thoughts had wandered. 'Now,
+for this one evening, I will take your advice and rest. I will
+go up to my room now; but to-morrow'&mdash;she stopped, and
+then said firmly&mdash;'to-morrow everything shall be as usual.'
+And then she gave her cheek to her mother's kiss, and went
+up to her room.</p>
+
+<p>Michael did not make his appearance in the drawing-room
+that night. To Booty's secret rapture, he put on his great-coat,
+and went out into the chill darkness. He had much to
+consider; and it was easier to make his plans under the dim
+March starlight. A difficult charge had been given him, and
+he had not shrunk from it; on the contrary, he had felt much
+as some knight in the olden times must have felt when his
+liege lady had given him some hazardous work or quest. To
+be sure, there was no special guerdon attached to it; but
+a man like Michael Burnett does not need a reward: if he
+could only give Audrey peace of mind, he would ask no other
+reward.</p>
+
+<p>He made up his mind that he would go to Cyril the next
+morning, and he thought he knew what he should say to him.
+He and Dr. Ross had talked matters over after dinner. Dr.
+Ross had already suggested a substitute&mdash;a young Oxford
+man, who was staying at the Vicarage, and who was on the
+look-out for a mastership.</p>
+
+<p>'I told Cyril that he had better discontinue his work,' he
+went on. 'If it were not for Audrey, he could have made
+some sort of shift, and kept on until the holidays; but it
+would never do to run the risk of another scene between
+them: it would be bad for her, and it would be terrible for
+him. It is an awkward complication, Mike; it would be
+better to get him away as soon as possible.' And to this
+Michael assented.</p>
+
+<p>He went round to the Gray Cottage soon after breakfast.
+Audrey was watering her flowers in the hall. She looked at
+him as he passed her, but did not speak; of course, she
+guessed his errand, for he saw her head droop a little over
+the flowers.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie received him. The poor girl's eyes were swollen
+with crying, and she looked up in his face very piteously, as
+he greeted her with his usual kindness.</p>
+
+<p>'Where is your brother, Mollie?'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean Cyril? He is in his room; but no one has
+seen him. Oh, Captain Burnett, is it true? Mamma has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">{375}</a></span>
+been saying such dreadful things, and we do not know whether
+we are to believe her. Biddy tries to hush her, but she will
+go on talking; she is quiet now, and Kester and I crept down
+here. Ah, there is Kester looking at us; he wants you to go
+in and speak to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is it true?' were Kester's first words when he saw his
+friend. The poor lad's lips were quivering. 'Oh, Captain
+Burnett, do tell us that it is not true!'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot do that, my boy,' returned Michael gravely; and
+then he sat down and listened to what they had to tell him.
+He soon found that the mother's wild ravings had told them
+the truth. In her despair at being refused admittance to her
+son's room, she had given way to a frantic outburst of emotion.
+Biddy had tried to get rid of them, but Kester and Mollie had
+remained, almost petrified with horror. What could their
+mother mean by telling them that she hated the sight of them,
+and adjuring them to go to their father?</p>
+
+<p>'Father is dead; does she wish us to be dead, too?'
+Mollie had faltered. 'Dear mamma, do let me go and fetch
+Cyril! You are ill; you do not know what you are saying!'
+But as she turned to go, her mother had started up, and
+gripped her arm so fiercely that the poor child could have
+screamed with pain.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you shall fetch him, but he will not come; he will
+not listen to you any more than he would to me. When I
+implored him on my knees to open the door, he said that he
+was ill, and that he could not speak to me. But was I not
+ill, too? If I were dying he would not come to me! and yet
+he is my son!'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear mamma! oh, dear mamma! do you know how you
+are hurting me?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; it is he who is hurting me: he is killing me&mdash;absolutely
+killing me!&mdash;because I kept from him that his
+father was alive! Did I not do it for his sake&mdash;that he
+should not be shamed by such a father? Go to him, Mollie;
+tell him that you know all about it, and that Audrey Ross
+will have nothing to say to him, because he is the son of a
+felon. Why are you staring at me? Go! go!' And she
+pushed her from her so roughly that Mollie would have fallen
+if Biddy had not caught her.</p>
+
+<p>'Go, Miss Mollie, or you will drive her crazy with your
+big eyes and frightened face. Whist! don't heed the mistress's
+wild talk; it is never the truth she is telling you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">{376}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Blake had interrupted the old woman; her eyes
+were blazing with angry excitement:</p>
+
+<p>'Where do you expect to go, Biddy, if you tell Mollie
+such lies? You are a wicked old woman! You have helped
+me to do all this mischief! Would you dare to tell me to
+my face that I am not the wife of Mat O'Brien?'</p>
+
+<p>'Sorra a bit, Miss Olive; you are the widow of that honest
+man Blake. Heaven rest his soul!' returned the old woman
+doggedly. 'We must be having the doctors to you, Miss
+Olive avick, if you tell us these wild stories.'</p>
+
+<p>'Biddy, you are a false, foolish old creature! and it is you
+who are driving me out of my sane senses.'</p>
+
+<p>But at this point Mollie fairly fled.</p>
+
+<p>'Did you see your brother?' asked Michael, as she stopped
+to dry her eyes. Kester had never uttered a word; he left
+Mollie to tell her own story, and sat leaning his head on his
+hands. For once Mollie's loquacity was suffered unchecked.</p>
+
+<p>'It was dark, and I could not see him; it was quite late,
+you know&mdash;nearly twelve o'clock. He came out and listened
+to me; but the passage and the room were quite dark.</p>
+
+<p>'"Go down, Mollie," he said, "and tell my mother that I
+cannot speak to her to-night. It is quite impossible; she
+ought not to expect it."</p>
+
+<p>'"But she is ill, Cyril&mdash;I am sure she is dreadfully ill;
+her eyes look so strange, and she is saying such things!"</p>
+
+<p>'"Biddy will take care of her; if she needs a doctor, you
+must go for one. But nothing on earth would induce me to
+see her to-night." And then he went back into his room and
+locked the door.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor Mollie!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that was nothing to what came afterwards. Would
+you believe it, Captain Burnett?&mdash;mamma had heard every
+word. When I left Cyril, I found her crouching on the
+stairs in a dark corner. Oh, I shall never forget the turn it
+gave me! She had got her arms over her head, and they
+seemed quite stiff, and her fingers were clenched. Biddy was
+crying over her; but she did not move or speak, and it was
+quite an hour before we could get her into her own room.'</p>
+
+<p>'You ought to have sent for the doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>'Biddy would not let us; she said it was only sorrow of
+heart, and that she had seen her once before like that, when
+her husband died. What makes Biddy say that, Captain
+Burnett, if our father be still living?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">{377}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Michael shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>'Biddy chooses to persist in her falsehood. I have seen
+your father, Mollie. I am very sorry for him; with all his
+faults, he loves his children.' Then a low sound like a groan
+escaped Kester's lips. 'And I think his children should be
+sorry for him, too; he has had a hard, unhappy life. But
+there is no time to talk of this now; I want you to finish
+about last night, and then I must go upstairs.'</p>
+
+<p>'There is nothing more to tell. We could not induce
+mamma to undress or to go to bed, so Biddy covered her up
+and told me to go away. She was with her all night. With
+all her crossness and tiresome ways, Biddy is always good to
+mamma; she was talking to her almost as though she were
+a baby, for I stood and listened a minute before I closed the
+door. I could hear her say:</p>
+
+<p>'"Miss Olive avick, what was the good of telling the
+children? You should hush it up for Mr. Cyril's sake, and for
+the sake of the dear young lady he is going to marry." But
+he is not going to marry her; mamma said so more than
+once.'</p>
+
+<p>And then, in a few grave words, Michael told them all that
+it was necessary for them to know.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor, poor Cyril! Oh, my dear Miss Ross!' was all
+Mollie could say. Kester seemed nearly choking.</p>
+
+<p>'Let me go to him, dear Mollie. But I think I will see
+your mother first. Biddy seems to be a bad adviser. After
+all, she may require a doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>And then he put his hand on Kester's shoulder and
+whispered something into his ear. Mollie could not hear what
+it was, but she saw the boy's face brighten a little as he took
+up Booty to prevent him from following his master.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">{378}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2>
+
+<h3>'THERE SHALL BE PEACE BETWEEN US'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them, then, or bear
+with them.'</p>
+
+<p class="sep">******</p>
+
+<p>'When a man has done thee any wrong, immediately consider with
+what opinion about good or evil he has done wrong; for when thou hast
+seen this thou wilt pity him, and wilt neither wonder nor be angry.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">M.
+Aurelius Antoninus.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Biddy was hovering about the passage, as usual. She regarded
+Michael with marked disfavour when he asked if he could see
+her mistress. In her ignorant way, she had arrived at the
+conclusion that the Captain was at the bottom of the mischief.</p>
+
+<p>'Why couldn't he leave things to sort themselves?' she
+grumbled within herself. 'But men are over-given to meddling;
+they mar more than they make.'</p>
+
+<p>'My mistress is too ill to see anyone,' she returned shortly.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that she is in her own room?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>But even as he put the question, he could answer it for
+himself. The door of the adjoining room was wide open, and
+he was certain that it was empty.</p>
+
+<p>'Sick folk do not always stop in their beds,' retorted Biddy
+still more sourly; 'but for all that, she is not fit to see
+visitors.'</p>
+
+<p>She squared her skinny elbows as she spoke, as though prepared
+to bar his entrance; but he looked at her in his quiet,
+authoritative way.</p>
+
+<p>'She will see me, Biddy. Will you kindly allow me to
+pass?' And the old woman drew back, muttering as she
+did so.</p>
+
+<p>But he was obliged to confess that Biddy was right as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">{379}</a></span>
+opened the door, and for a moment he hesitated on the
+threshold.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake was half sitting, half lying on the couch in a
+curiously uneasy position, as though she had flung herself back
+in some sudden faintness; her eyes were closed, and the contrast
+between the pale face and dark dishevelled hair was very
+striking; her lips, even, were of the same marble tint. He had
+always been compelled to admire her, but he had done so in
+grudging fashion; but now he was constrained to own that
+her beauty was of no mean order. An artist would have raved
+over her; she would have made a model for a Judith or a
+Magdalene.</p>
+
+<p>As he stood there with his hand on the door, she opened her
+eyes and looked at him; but she did not change her attitude
+or address him.</p>
+
+<p>Michael made up his mind that he must speak to her.</p>
+
+<p>'I am sorry to see you look so ill, Mrs. Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand as he spoke; it felt weak and nerveless.
+But she drew it hastily away, and her forehead contracted.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I am ill.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope Biddy has sent for a doctor; I think you should
+see one without delay.'</p>
+
+<p>But she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>'No doctor would do me any good. I would not see him
+if he came.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael was silent; he hardly knew how he was to treat
+her. Mollie's graphic account of the scene last night had
+greatly alarmed him. Mrs. Blake was of a strangely excitable
+nature; he had been told that from her youth she had been
+prone to fits of hysterical emotion. She was perfectly unused
+to self-control, and only her son had ever exercised any influence
+over her. Was there not a danger, then, that, the
+barriers once broken down, she might pass beyond her own
+control? He had heard and had read that ungovernable
+passion might lead to insanity; he almost believed it, as he
+listened to Mollie's story. This is why he had insisted on
+seeing her. He must judge of her condition for himself; he must
+do his best to prevent the recurrence of such a scene. And
+now, as he saw her terrible exhaustion and the dim languor in
+her eyes, he told himself that something must be done for her
+relief.</p>
+
+<p>'If you send one, I will not see him,' she went on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">{380}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I think you are wrong. For your children's sake you
+ought to do your best to throw off this illness that oppresses
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>But she interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>'Why are you here this morning? Are you going to him?'
+she asked abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, certainly; that is, if he will see me.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will see you. He would not refuse anyone who came
+from Woodcote. Captain Burnett, will you tell me this one
+thing: has that girl given him up?'</p>
+
+<p>Michael hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>'Your son has broken off his engagement with Miss Ross.
+He felt he could not do otherwise.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are not answering me straight. I do not want to
+hear about Cyril; of course he would offer to release her. But
+has Miss Ross consented to this?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' he returned reluctantly, for it pained him to enter on
+this subject with her; 'she has refused to be set free. As far
+as your son is concerned, the engagement is broken; but my
+cousin declares her intention of remaining faithful to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I knew it&mdash;I knew it as well as though you had told me,'
+returned Mrs. Blake with strong emotion; 'Audrey Ross is not
+the girl to throw a man over. Oh! I love her for this. She
+is a darling, a darling, but'&mdash;relapsing into her old melancholy&mdash;'they
+will never let her marry him&mdash;never, never!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid you are right.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, he is doomed; my poor boy is doomed. If you see
+him, what is there that you can say to comfort him?'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall not try to comfort him. I shall bid him do his
+duty. Comfort will come to him in no other way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shall you speak to him of me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, certainly. If I have any influence, I shall bring him
+to you before an hour is over.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she caught his hand and the blood rushed to her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>'God bless you for this!' she whispered. 'Go; do not
+keep me waiting. Go, for Heaven's sake!'</p>
+
+<p>'You must promise me one thing first: that you will control
+yourself. Think of him, of the day and the night he
+has passed. He will not be fit for any scene. If you reproach
+him, you will only send him from you again.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will promise anything&mdash;everything&mdash;if you will only
+bring him.' And now her eyes were wet; it seemed as though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">{381}</a></span>
+he had given her new life. She sat erect; she was no longer
+like a marble image of despair. 'If I can only see him, if he
+will let me speak to him! but it is this emptiness&mdash;this blank,
+this dreadful displeasure&mdash;that is shutting me out from him,
+that is killing me by inches.'</p>
+
+<p>And here she put her hand to her throat, as though the
+words suffocated her.</p>
+
+<p>'Be calm and quiet, and all may yet be well,' he returned
+in a soothing voice; 'I will do what I can for you and him
+too.' And with a reassuring look he left her.</p>
+
+<p>What had become of his dislike? He felt he no longer disliked
+her. She was false&mdash;falser than he had thought any
+woman could be; she had qualities that he detested, faults
+that he, of all men, was most ready to condemn; but the one
+spark of goodness that redeemed her in his eyes was her love
+for her son.</p>
+
+<p>He knocked somewhat lightly at Cyril's door, but there was
+no answer; but as he repeated it more loudly, Cyril's voice
+impatiently demanded his business.</p>
+
+<p>'It is I&mdash;Burnett. Will you let me speak to you a moment,
+Blake?'</p>
+
+<p>And then the door was unlocked, and Cyril stood aside to
+let him enter; but he uttered no greeting, neither did Michael
+at once offer his hand. He threw a hasty glance round the
+room as Cyril relocked the door; the bed had not been slept in
+that night&mdash;that was plainly evident&mdash;but the crushed pillow
+and the rug flung across the foot proved clearly that he had
+thrown himself down fully dressed when weariness compelled him.</p>
+
+<p>He had evidently only just completed his toilet: the shirt
+he had thrown aside was still on the floor, in company with his
+bath towels; and something in his appearance made Michael
+say: 'You were just going out. I hope I am not keeping
+you?'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no hurry,' returned Cyril indifferently; 'I was
+only going out because I could not stop indoors any longer;
+but there is plenty of time between this and night.' And then
+he offered Michael the only chair, and sat down on the bed.
+'This place is not fit for you,' he continued apologetically;
+'but there is nowhere else where one can be quiet.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are looking ill, Blake. I am afraid you have not
+slept.'</p>
+
+<p>For there was a sunken look in Cyril's eyes that told its
+own tale.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">{382}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I had some sleep towards morning,' he replied, as though
+the matter did not concern him; 'and I dreamt that I was in
+purgatory. It was not a pleasant place, but I believe I was
+rather sorry when I woke. It is very good of you to look me
+up, Burnett.' And here he paused, and then said in a changed
+voice: 'Will you tell me how she is?'</p>
+
+<p>'You mean my cousin? She is as well as one can expect
+her to be; but, of course, all this has been a terrible upset.
+She is very good and brave. She knows I have come to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did she send you?'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose I must say yes to that; but I had fully intended
+to come. Blake, I want you to look on me as a friend. You
+need someone to stand by you, and see you through this; and
+I think there is no one so suitable as myself at the present.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are very good; but I can have no possible claim on
+you, Captain Burnett.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril spoke a little stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>'If you put it in that way, perhaps not; in this sense, a
+shipwrecked sailor has no claim on the man who holds out a
+helping hand to him; but I doubt whether that reason would
+induce him to refuse it.'</p>
+
+<p>Then a faint smile came to Cyril's dry lips.</p>
+
+<p>'You are right to choose that illustration. I think no man
+in the world has ever suffered more complete shipwreck. I
+have been trying to face my position all night, and I cannot
+see a gleam of hope anywhere.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must not lose heart, Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Must I not? I think anyone would lose heart and faith,
+and hope, too, in my position. Two days ago no future could
+have been so bright; I had everything&mdash;everything that a
+man needs for his happiness; and at this moment no beggar
+could be poorer. I feel as though I had no bread to eat, and
+as though I should never have appetite for bread again.'</p>
+
+<p>'I understand what you mean. I had the same sort of
+feeling as I lay in the hospital. I was covered with wounds;
+health was impossible; my work was gone. I could not face
+my life. Would you believe it, Blake?&mdash;I was the veriest
+coward, and could have trembled at my own shadow. It
+made a woman of me. I did not want to live such a crippled,
+meagre existence; but somehow I managed to struggle to the
+light.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did anyone help you?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, not consciously; I helped myself. At least'&mdash;in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">{383}</a></span>
+lower voice&mdash;'the help that came to me was from a higher
+source. One day I will tell you about it, Blake; it was an
+awful crisis in a man's life, and I should not speak about it
+unless I thought my experience could benefit anyone. Now
+about yourself&mdash;have you formed any plans?'</p>
+
+<p>'None; but I must get away from here.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can understand that perfectly; and I must say that I
+think you are right. Dr. Ross and I were speaking about you
+yesterday; he is deeply grieved at the idea of parting with you
+so abruptly. He says, under any other circumstances (he was
+thinking of his daughter when he spoke) that it would have
+been well for you to go on with your work as usual&mdash;the
+change could have been made after the holidays&mdash;but he fears
+now that this is hardly possible. I am sure you will not misunderstand
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; he has decided quite rightly.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will give you a testimonial of which any man may be
+proud. He told me with tears in his eyes that he never knew
+anyone so young with so great a moral influence; that your
+work was at all times excellent, and that he had never had so
+high a respect for any of his masters. And he begs me to say
+that you may command his purse or influence to any reasonable
+extent. He will be truly grateful to you if you will not refuse
+his help.'</p>
+
+<p>'I fear I must refuse it.' And Cyril threw back his head
+with his old proud gesture. 'But do not tell him so, Captain
+Burnett. Give him my kindest, my most respectful regards.
+Say anything you like, but do not compromise me. I will take
+nothing but my salary from Dr. Ross.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then we will say no more about it,' returned Michael with
+ready tact. 'Every man has a right to his own independence.
+Have you any place to go to when you leave here, Blake?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Cyril shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>'One can always take lodgings,' he replied. 'I must go
+up to town and look out for some situation. I suppose, after
+all, my testimonials will help me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Without doubt they will. What do you say to a secretaryship?
+I have one in my mind that I think would suit you.
+It is a friend of my own who is wanting someone as a sort of
+general amanuensis and secretary. He is a literary man and
+extremely wealthy, an old bachelor and somewhat of an oddity;
+but in his own way I don't know a better fellow.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril listened to this description with languid interest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">{384}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'It sounds as though it would do,' he replied, after a
+moment's reflection. 'At least, I might try it for a time.
+Last night I thought of going to New Zealand. I could get
+a mastership there.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is not a bad idea; but you might try the secretaryship
+first, if Unwin be willing to come to terms. The work
+would be novel and interesting, and your mother might not
+like the New Zealand scheme.'</p>
+
+<p>Then, at the mention of his mother, Cyril's face seemed to
+harden.</p>
+
+<p>Michael took no apparent notice of this.</p>
+
+<p>'I tell you what we will do, Blake. We will go up to
+town together. When would you like to start&mdash;to-morrow?'
+Here Cyril nodded. 'I have diggings of my own, you know,
+in South Audley Street. They are very comfortable rooms,
+and I can always get a bed for a friend. The people of the
+house are most accommodating. Besides, I am a good tenant.
+I will put you up, Blake, for any length of time you like to
+name. I will not promise to bear you company after
+the first week or so; but by that time you will find yourself
+quite at home. And we will interview the old fellow as soon
+as possible.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are too good! I have no right to burden you so;'
+but a ray of hope shone in Cyril's sunken eyes: he was not
+the outcast he had seemed to be, if this man stood by him.</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense! How can you burden me?' returned Michael
+briskly. 'I shall be delighted to have your company. And the
+rooms are always there, you know. They may as well be used.'</p>
+
+<p>'And we can go to-morrow. You see, I am accepting your
+generous offer; but how can I help myself? I must find work,
+or I shall go mad.'</p>
+
+<p>'Just so, and I will help you to find it. There is some
+good, after all, in being an idle man: one can do a good turn
+for a friend. Well, we will say to-morrow. I shall be quite
+at your service, then; but there are two things that must be
+done first. Blake, do you know how ill your mother is? I
+was quite shocked to see her just now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Mollie told me so last night; she wanted me to come
+down to her, but I knew that it was far better for both of us
+that I should remain where I was; I was in no mood for a
+scene;' and Cyril knitted his brows as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'You were the best judge of that, of course; but I should
+advise you to see her now.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">{385}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>His grave tone somewhat startled Cyril.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that she is so very ill?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I do not mean that. As far as I can tell, I believe
+her illness is more mental than bodily; but she is evidently
+suffering acutely. If you leave her to herself much longer I
+would not answer for the consequences. Her nature is a
+peculiar one, as you must know for yourself. If you could
+say a word to her to soothe her, I think it would be as well to
+say it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well, I will go to her; but she must not expect me
+to say much.'</p>
+
+<p>'She will expect nothing; but all the same I hope you will
+not be too hard on her. If you cannot extenuate her fault, you
+can at least remember her provocations.'</p>
+
+<p>A sigh of great bitterness rose to Cyril's lips.</p>
+
+<p>'I think it is hardest of all to hear you defend my mother
+to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know it&mdash;it is bitterly hard. Do you think I don't feel
+for you? But, Blake, before we leave Rutherford, there is
+another duty, and a still more painful one. Surely you intend
+to see your father?'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not see the necessity, Captain Burnett; my father is
+nothing to me nor I to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are wrong,' returned Michael warmly; 'you are altogether
+wrong. Will you let me tell you something?'</p>
+
+<p>And then he repeated the substance of his conversation with
+Mat O'Brien. He thought Cyril seemed a little touched, but
+he merely said:</p>
+
+<p>'I think I need hardly see him at present;' and he added
+in a low voice, 'Am I in a fit state to see anyone?'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps not; but you may not soon have another opportunity,
+my dear fellow. Will you put aside your feelings and
+do this thing for my satisfaction? I have given my word to
+Mr. O'Brien that I will do my best to bring you together, and
+if you refuse I shall accuse myself of failure.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, if you put it in that light, I do not see my way to
+refuse.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks&mdash;shall we go together, or would you prefer going
+alone?'</p>
+
+<p>'I could not bring myself to go alone.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well, then, I will drive you over in the dogcart. I
+am no walker, as you know, and perhaps Kester had better go
+with us;' and to this Cyril made no demur. 'Now I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">{386}</a></span>
+detained you long enough, and Mrs. Blake will be wearying for
+you. I will bring the trap round at half-past two.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril nodded, and they went downstairs together. Michael
+paused for an instant at the drawing-room door:</p>
+
+<p>'Be gentle with her, Blake,' he said, as he grasped his hand.
+'What is done cannot be undone;' and then he went down to
+Kester.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Blake was still in the same position. The tension of
+that long waiting had been too much for her, and the old
+faintness had returned; but when she saw her son she struggled
+into a sitting posture and stretched out her hands to him as he
+came slowly, and almost reluctantly, towards her.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril! my darling Cyril!' Then he took her hand and
+held it for a moment. 'My boy,' she said a little piteously,
+'have you nothing else for your mother?'</p>
+
+<p>But he seemed as though he failed to understand her, and
+when she pointed mutely to the seat beside her, he did not at
+once seat himself.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother,' he said, still speaking as though the words were
+difficult to him, 'I have come to tell you that there shall be
+peace between us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does that mean you have forgiven me, Cyril?'</p>
+
+<p>'It means that I will do my best to forgive you your share
+in the ruin of my life&mdash;of all our lives.'</p>
+
+<p>Then as he stood before her she threw her arms round him
+with a faint cry; but he gently, very gently, repulsed her.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not let there be any scene; I could not bear it;' and
+the weariness in his voice made her heart ache still more.
+'Mother, I think that we had better never speak of these
+things again. As far as I am concerned, I will willingly
+blot out the past from my memory. To-day we must begin
+afresh&mdash;you and I.'</p>
+
+<p>His tone made her shiver, and as she looked up in his dark
+impassive face, and saw the deep-seated melancholy in his eyes,
+a sort of despair seized her.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' she cried passionately, 'can it be my son who speaks?
+Blot out the past?&mdash;that happy past, when we were all in all
+to each other&mdash;when even poverty was delicious, because I had
+my boy to work for me!'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall work for you still.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, but will it be the same? What do I care for the
+gifts you may bring me when your heart has gone from me?
+How am I to bear my life when you treat me with such coldness?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">{387}</a></span>
+Cyril, you do not know what a mother's love is. If you
+had sinned, if you had come to me and said, "Will you take
+my hand, red as it is with the blood of a fellow-creature?"
+with all my horror I would still have taken it, for it is the
+hand of my son.'</p>
+
+<p>She spoke with a wild fervour that would have touched any
+other man; but he only returned coldly:</p>
+
+<p>'And yet you had no mercy for my father?'</p>
+
+<p>Then a look of repugnance crossed her face.</p>
+
+<p>'That was because I did not love him. Where there is no
+love there is no self-sacrifice; but, Cyril, with all my faults, I
+have been a good mother to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know it,' he replied, 'and I hope I shall always do my
+duty by you; but, mother, you must be patient and give
+me time. Do you not see,' and here his voice became more
+agitated, 'that you have yourself destroyed my faith in my
+mother: the mother in whom I believed, who was truth itself
+to me, is only my own illusion. I know now that she never
+existed; that is why I say that you must give me time, that I
+may become used to my new mother.'</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with the utmost gentleness; but his words were
+dreadful to her. And yet she hardly understood them. How
+could the pure rectitude, the scrupulous honour, of such a nature
+be comprehended by a woman like Olive O'Brien, a creature of
+wild impulses, whose notions of morality were as shifty as the
+quicksands, whose sense of right and wrong was so strangely
+warped? For the first time in her life the strong accusing
+light of conscience seemed to penetrate the murky recesses of
+her nature with an unearthly radiance that seemed to scorch
+her into nothingness. Her son had become her judge, and the
+penalty he imposed was worse than death to her. Of what use
+would her life be to her if the idol of her heart had turned
+against her? And yet, with all her remorse and misery, there
+was no repentance: if the time had come over again, she would
+still have freed herself from the husband she loathed, she would
+still have dressed herself in her widows' weeds, and carried out
+her life's deception.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril was perfectly aware of this; he knew all her anguish
+was caused by his displeasure, and by the bitter consequences
+that he was reaping. Her plot had failed; it had only brought
+disaster on him and his. If he could have seen one spark of
+real repentance&mdash;if she had owned to him with tears that her
+sorrow was for her sin, and that she would fain undo it&mdash;his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">{388}</a></span>
+heart would have been softer to her as she sat and wept before
+him.</p>
+
+<p>'I never thought you could have been so hard to me!' she
+sobbed.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not mean to be hard,' was his answer; 'that is why
+I said there should be peace between us, and because I am
+going away.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are going!&mdash;where?'</p>
+
+<p>And then he told her briefly that Captain Burnett had
+offered him a temporary home.</p>
+
+<p>'It is better for me to be alone a little,' he went on. 'When
+I have settled work, and you can get rid of the house, I will
+ask you to join me; but that will not be for some time.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I must stop on here alone? Oh, Cyril, my own boy,
+let me come with you! I will slave, I will be content with a
+crust, if you will only take me!'</p>
+
+<p>'It is impossible, mother; I shall have no home for you.
+You must stay here quietly with Mollie and Kester, until my
+plans are more settled.'</p>
+
+<p>And then he rose, as though to put an end to the discussion.</p>
+
+<p>'And you go to-morrow?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, to-morrow. Will you ask Mollie to look after my
+things?'</p>
+
+<p>Then, as she gazed at him with troubled eyes, he bent over
+her and kissed her forehead. 'We must begin afresh,' he said,
+half to himself, as he left the room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">{389}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2>
+
+<h3>'WILL YOU SHAKE HANDS WITH YOUR FATHER?'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'It is peculiar to man to love even those who do wrong. And this
+happens if, when they do wrong, it occurs to thee that they are kinsmen,
+and that they do wrong through ignorance and unintentionally, and that
+soon both of you will die; and above all, that the wrongdoer hath done
+thee no harm, for he hath not made thy ruling faculty worse than it was
+before.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">M. Aurelius Antoninus.</span></p></div>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'To err is human; to forgive, divine.'</div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>The drive to Brail that afternoon was a silent one; grim care
+sat on the two young faces, and Michael, with his usual tact,
+devoted himself to his mare. Now and then her skittishness
+gave him an opportunity of saying a word or two, to which
+Cyril replied in monosyllables.</p>
+
+<p>When they had left the inn, and were almost in sight of the
+cottage, Michael suddenly asked Cyril if he had ever seen Mr.
+O'Brien. 'Thomas O'Brien,' he added quickly.</p>
+
+<p>'You mean my uncle?' returned Cyril curtly. 'No; I
+have never seen him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I should like to tell you something about him. Of
+all the men I have ever known, Thomas O'Brien is the one I
+have most honoured. I have always had the greatest respect
+for him&mdash;for his honesty, integrity, and child-like simplicity.
+In spite of his want of culture, he is the gentleman his Creator
+intended him to be. Let me tell you, Blake, that you may be
+proud to call such a man your uncle.' And with these words
+Michael unlatched the little gate, and waited for them to follow
+him.</p>
+
+<p>They were not unperceived. Long before they reached
+the porch the cottage door was open, and Thomas O'Brien's
+genial face and strong, thick-set figure blocked up the doorway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">{390}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Michael was about to speak, when, to his surprise, Cyril
+lifted his hat, and then extended his hand to the old man.</p>
+
+<p>'I believe you are my uncle, sir,' he said quietly. 'There
+can be no need of an introduction: I am Cyril, and this is my
+brother Kester.'</p>
+
+<p>A soft, misty look came into Thomas O'Brien's honest eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, my lad, I am thinking I know you both, though I
+have never set eyes on you before. You are kindly welcome,
+young gentlemen, for your own and for your father's sake.'
+And here he gave them a hearty grasp of the hand. 'The
+Captain is always welcome, as he knows. He and me have
+been friends for half a score of years&mdash;eh, Captain?'</p>
+
+<p>'Good God! are those my boys, Tom?'</p>
+
+<p>The interruption was so sudden and unexpected that they
+all started, and Cyril turned pale. Something familiar in the
+voice seemed to thrill him, like an echo from a far-off time.
+He turned round quickly. A tall man, with closely-cropped
+hair and a gray moustache, was standing behind him, and
+regarding him with dark, melancholy eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Those two can never be my boys, Tom!' he repeated, in
+the same incredulous, awestruck voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, lad, they are your own, surely; and you had better be
+thanking God for His mercy in giving you such sons than be
+taking the holy name on your lips.'</p>
+
+<p>But Mat did not seem to hear this mild rebuke.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you shake hands with your father, Cyril?' he said,
+with an air of deep dejection. 'I wish it were a cleaner hand,
+for your sake; but I can give you no other.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think I would refuse it, sir?' returned the young
+man, touched, in spite of himself.</p>
+
+<p>And then it was Kester's turn. But as Mat's eyes fell on
+the boy's worn, sickly face his manner changed.</p>
+
+<p>'Is that my little chap&mdash;the young monkey who used to
+ride on my shoulder and hold on by my hair? Dear! dear!
+who would have believed it?'</p>
+
+<p>Kester's pale face flushed a little.</p>
+
+<p>'You are looking at my crutch, sir,' he said nervously; 'but
+I shall soon throw it away. I am ever so much better now, am
+I not, Cyril?'</p>
+
+<p>'And where's my little Mollie?' continued Mat&mdash;'"the
+baby," as we used to call her?'</p>
+
+<p>'Let us come away,' whispered Michael in Mr. O'Brien's
+ear. 'They will get on better without us.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">{391}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The tears were running down the old man's face as they
+turned into the little parlour.</p>
+
+<p>'It beats me, sir, it beats me utterly, to see my poor lad
+trying to make friends with his own children, and looking so
+shamed before them. That is a fine-looking chap, that eldest
+one,' he went on&mdash;'Miss Ross's sweetheart, as I used to call
+him. He is the sort any girl could fancy. And he has a look
+of Mat about him, too, only he is handsomer and better set
+up than Mat ever was. "I believe you are my uncle,
+sir." Few young chaps would have said that. A fine
+fellow, and she has lost him. Well, the Almighty sends
+trouble to the young as well as the old. May I light my
+pipe, Captain? For I am a bit shaky, and all this has
+overset me.'</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Cyril was saying:</p>
+
+<p>'We have not brought Mollie. If you wish to see her, she
+shall come another time.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, my lad; that is kindly spoken. And I have a
+sort of longing to set eyes on her again. But you need not
+think that I am going to trouble her, or you either. A man
+like me has no right to trouble anyone.'</p>
+
+<p>How could they answer him? But Mat did not seem to
+notice their silence. His eyes were bent on the ground, and he
+twirled his gray moustache fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>'My children belong to their mother, and not to me. I
+made you over to her years ago. She said I was not fit to
+have the charge of my own children; and maybe she was
+right. It was not a wifely speech, but I can't blame her.
+When you go home, tell her I'll keep my word&mdash;that I'll lay
+no sort of claim to any of you.'</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in the slow, brooding tone that was natural to
+him, and the tears came into Kester's eyes as he listened.</p>
+
+<p>Boy as he was, he understood the deep degradation of such
+words. This tall, hungry-eyed man, who stood aloof and
+talked so strangely, was his own father, who was voluntarily
+denuding himself of a father's rights&mdash;an outcast thrown over
+by his wife and children&mdash;an erring, and yet a deeply repentant
+man. Could anything be more unnatural and horrible?
+Kester's boyish sense of justice revolted against this painful
+condition of things; he longed to start up and take his father's
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not be so miserable; whatever you have done, you are
+our father, and we will be good to you.' This is what he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">{392}</a></span>
+would have said; but he only looked at Cyril and held his
+peace.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril had felt himself strangely attracted from the first.
+This was not the father whom he had dreaded to see, and on
+whose countenance he had feared to behold the stamp of the
+felon. Mat's worn, gentle face and deep-set, sorrowful eyes
+only inspired him with pity; the haggard weariness, the utter
+despondency of the man before him told their own story.
+True, there was weakness, moral weakness; but, at least,
+there was no glorying in his wrong-doing. The prodigal had
+come home weary of his husks, and craving for more wholesome
+food.</p>
+
+<p>'If I have done wrong, I have suffered for it,' his looks
+seemed to say; and Cyril's generosity responded to the
+appeal.</p>
+
+<p>'We are all in a difficult position,' he said; 'but there is no
+need to make things worse than they are. It is not for us to
+judge our parents, neither is it our fault that all these years we
+have believed that we had but one. Now I know all, I feel
+you have not been treated fairly.'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought you would have taken your mother's part, my
+boy,' replied Mat humbly.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril's words brought him some amount of consolation, only
+he could not quite bring himself to believe them.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope that I shall always be on the side where the right
+lies,' was Cyril's answer. 'I do not wish to blame my mother.
+I think it is best and wisest to be silent. You are a stranger
+to us, and we have not even your memory to aid us. My own
+childish reminiscences are very vague: I can just remember a
+big man who used to play with us, and whom we called daddy;
+but I have no special recollection of him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hardly expected you to say as much as that,' and Mat's
+eyes brightened; 'but, after all, I doubt if I am better off in
+that respect than you. How am I to find my little chaps
+again when I look at you both&mdash;a fine grown man, and that
+poor sickly lad beside you? Why,' he continued in a tender,
+musing tone, 'the little chaps I remember had rosy cheeks and
+curly heads. I can feel their bare legs swarming up me now.
+"Give us a ride, dad!" It was always Kester who said that.
+He was never still a moment unless he was asleep, and then he
+used to look so pretty; but where shall I find him?&mdash;there is
+not a trace of the little rogue left in him; and when I see my
+girl Mollie, it will be the same.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">{393}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Kester could stand no more; he started up so hastily that
+his crutch slipped from under his arm, and he would have lost
+his balance if his father had not caught him and held him
+fast.</p>
+
+<p>'Why did you do that, boy? You have given me quite a
+fright? There! there! I will pick up your stick for you,
+while you stop quietly in your chair.'</p>
+
+<p>But, to his surprise, Kester held him tightly by the wrist.</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind the crutch, father; I am not afraid of a
+tumble. Somehow, my leg gets stiff, but I don't mind it. I
+only wanted to say that, if you like, I will come and see you
+sometimes, when I can get a lift; and I will bring Mollie with
+me. I can't help what mother says,' continued the boy, his face
+working, 'and I don't mean to let her hinder us from coming.
+Cyril is going away, so he will not count; but I'll bring
+Mollie: and though she is not your baby now, she will take to
+you and cheer you up.'</p>
+
+<p>Kester was quite out of breath with this long speech that
+he blurted out, but he was hardly prepared for the result; for
+before he had finished a low sob broke from Mat's lips, and
+he sat down shaking with emotion, and covered his face with
+his hands. Kester looked at him wistfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Have I said anything to hurt him?' he whispered; but
+Mat's ears caught the words.</p>
+
+<p>'No, no,' he returned vehemently; 'you have put fresh life
+into me by speaking so kindly. It was only the word "father"
+that I never thought to hear. God bless you, my boy, for
+saying that! I thought that she would have taught you to hate
+me&mdash;as she did herself.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall never hate you, father; I would not be so wicked.
+If you will let me come and see you sometimes I will try to be
+good to you, and I know Mollie will, too. I suppose,' continued
+Kester doubtfully, 'that I must not ask you to come
+and see us in return. It is mother's house, and&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But Mat finished the speech:</p>
+
+<p>'No, my lad, you are right. Your mother and I have
+parted for this life.' And now he spoke with a sort of mournful
+dignity. 'The time was when I worshipped the ground
+she walked upon; but there are limits to a man's love. When
+she forsook me in my shame and trouble, when she stood there
+taunting me in my prison cell, my heart seemed to die to her.
+Olive is nought to me now but a bitter memory, and if she
+prayed to me on her bended knees I would not enter her house.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">{394}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was Cyril's turn to speak now.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you are better apart,' he said in a low voice; 'and
+my mother has always been my charge. I shall tell her that
+she must not hinder Mollie or Kester from coming to see you.
+Shall you still remain here, father?'</p>
+
+<p>He said the word with some little effort, but the same
+brightness came into Mat's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I think so, my lad; I would as lief stay with Tom. All
+these years he has stuck to me, and I'll not forsake him
+now.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you will be comfortable?'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril asked the question with some degree of interest, and
+again Mat's eyes glistened with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>'I doubt if I was ever so comfortable in my life,' he
+returned, without any hesitation. 'You are young, my boy,
+and trouble is new to you, and Heaven forbid that you should
+ever be able to put yourself in my place. But if you only knew
+what it is to me to bid good-night to someone again!</p>
+
+<p>'It is not much of a life, perhaps,' went on Mat, with his
+gentle, melancholy drawl; 'but to me it is heavenly in its
+peace and quiet. Prissy is sometimes a bit harassing: but,
+then, most women are; but she keeps things comfortable and
+ship-shape, and when she has gone off to bed there is Tom and
+his pipe in the chimney-corner, and it is "Come and have a
+chat, my lad, until it is time to turn in." Yes, yes, I'll bide
+with Tom and be thankful.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then we will come and see you here sometimes,' returned
+Cyril, rising; 'for myself I cannot answer at present&mdash;&mdash;' He
+paused, and then continued hurriedly: 'I shall not see you
+again for some time. I am leaving Rutherford.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, lad, I know,' and Mat sighed heavily; 'and it is all
+through me that you are going. I wanted the Captain to hush
+it all up; but he would not hear of it. When I think of all
+I have brought on you, I wonder you can bring yourself to
+speak a kind word to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is not all your fault; but I cannot talk of myself. Good-bye,
+father. If we do not meet again for some time, it will be
+because things are going badly with me; but I shall always be
+ready to help you, if you need my assistance.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, my boy,' returned Mat huskily.</p>
+
+<p>And then it was Kester's turn.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall come soon, very soon, and Mollie shall come with
+me.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">{395}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Mollie!' Mat repeated the name in fond, lingering fashion
+as he moved to the window. 'My little girl! I wonder if she
+is like Olive? Cyril is; he has all her good looks, but he has
+something in his face that Olive never had. I almost felt
+shamed when he called me father; but the other one&mdash;he is
+not my little chap, and yet he is&mdash;but somehow when he spoke
+my whole heart seemed to go out to him.' And then Mat tried
+to light his pipe, only his hand trembled too much to do it. 'If
+I could only have my life back again!' he said to himself with
+a groan.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril hardly broke the silence once during the drive back.
+It was not until several days had passed that Michael heard
+how that interview with his father had affected him. Cyril
+said very little even then, but Michael was relieved to find
+that, on the whole, he had been more attracted than repelled.</p>
+
+<p>'Kester likes him, and in a way I like him too,' he remarked;
+'we both think he has been hardly used. My mother
+could have kept him straight&mdash;there is no doubt of that&mdash;but
+she never tried to do so. One is sorry for that sort of weakness,
+even if one cannot understand it,' finished Cyril, with
+the feeling that there was nothing more to say.</p>
+
+<p>Michael left them at the Cottage and drove on to Woodcote.
+His day's work had been somewhat arduous, and he felt fagged
+and weary. It was long past tea-time, he knew, but he
+wondered if he could ask Crauford to bring him some.
+Michael's long years of ill-health made him depend on this
+feminine panacea for all ills more than most men. That
+Michael hated to miss his tea was a well-known fact in the
+Ross household.</p>
+
+<p>Another time Audrey would have cared for his comforts, he
+thought, as he dragged himself up the stairs in a spiritless
+manner. Tired Nature was avenging herself in her usual
+fashion, and Michael's head and limbs were aching. Perhaps
+something else ached too.</p>
+
+<p>But his mood changed when he entered his room. After
+all, he had not been forgotten. A cheery little fire burnt and
+spluttered as though newly lighted, and a tiny kettle sang
+merrily on its trivet; the tea-tray was on the table, and, as
+Michael regarded these preparations with an expression of
+satisfaction, he heard Audrey's well-known knock at the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>'Shall I make your tea, Michael,' she asked, 'or would you
+rather be alone? Gage and Percival are downstairs, and, as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">{396}</a></span>
+was sure you would be tired, I told Crauford to bring up the
+kettle. Shall I stay or not?' she continued, a little surprised
+by his silence.</p>
+
+<p>'Stay, by all means!' was his only reply, as he threw himself
+into his easy-chair.</p>
+
+<p>He would have thanked her&mdash;and she evidently expected
+to be thanked&mdash;but he was afraid he should say too much.
+She had thought of him and his comfort in her own unhappiness,
+though her face was still pale with her inward
+trouble.</p>
+
+<p>'You have had a trying day,' she continued, as she knelt
+down on the rug a moment to coax the fire to burn more
+brightly; 'and of course it has taken it out of you. I was
+quite sure that you would not be in the mood for Gage and
+Percival. Percival is very kind, but somehow he is not restful;
+he is so very bracing.' And she sighed as though she had
+found him so.</p>
+
+<p>'People are not always in a condition for a tonic, are they,
+Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' she replied quietly; 'and then it is no use forcing it
+on them. But I must not be hard on Percival; he was very
+kind, only somehow his conversation was a little too bracing.
+He and Gage were full of plans; they meant it all for my
+good: but it was a little tiring.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor child!' and Michael's sympathising tone was very
+healing.</p>
+
+<p>'But we will not talk about my silly self,' rousing herself;
+'there is something else I want to know. I guess where you
+have been this afternoon. You have taken Cyril to see his
+father.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; and Kester too.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am very glad,' forcing a smile. 'It was right&mdash;quite
+right. He will be the happier for not shirking his duty.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she looked at Michael a little pleadingly, as though to
+beg for some account of the interview.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid I cannot tell you much,' he returned, feeling
+sorry that he had so little to communicate. 'As far as I could
+see, Blake behaved uncommonly well; he shook hands with
+O'Brien at once. But, of course, after that I only thought it
+right to efface myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'But surely Cyril has spoken of his father?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, he has not said a word; but I daresay he will open
+out more by and by, I am going up to town with him to-morrow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">{397}</a></span>
+and we shall have plenty of opportunity if he feels
+disposed to talk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you going to stay?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, yes&mdash;he is hardly fit to be left just now. I shall
+put him up at South Audley Street, and then he can look
+about him for a bit. I daresay I shall be back in a week
+or two.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Michael, I never thought of this. Are you sure it
+will not trouble you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not a bit,' he returned cheerfully. 'I want to see
+my lawyer, and do one or two things; so it comes quite
+handy.'</p>
+
+<p>But this plausible pretext did not in the least deceive her.</p>
+
+<p>'It is no use saying what I think,' she said hurriedly, and
+he saw the gleam of a tear on her eyelash. 'No one but
+yourself would ever do such things. I shall miss you&mdash;I think
+I shall miss you more than ever&mdash;but it will be such a comfort
+to feel you are with him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, as to that, he will not need me long. When I see
+him fairly settled I shall come home. I want to speak to
+Unwin about him. You have often heard me speak of
+Unwin: he is nearly old enough to be my father; but we are
+great chums, and I mean to tell him the whole story about
+Blake. If I could only get Unwin to stand his friend, there
+will be some hope for him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I understand; but it is you who will be his benefactor.
+Don't frown, Michael, I am not going to thank you;
+I cannot. Now please tell me one other thing before I go: will
+you write to me?'</p>
+
+<p>'If you wish it,' he replied without hesitation. 'Oh yes, I
+will certainly write and let you know how we are getting on;
+but I think it might be as well for you not to answer my
+letters.'</p>
+
+<p>A flush came to Audrey's face, but she perfectly understood
+the delicacy that induced Michael to make this stipulation; he
+would deprive himself of one of his greatest pleasures rather
+than Cyril should be pained by the sight of her handwriting.</p>
+
+<p>'I will not write,' she said in a low voice. 'Now I must
+go down to Gage.'</p>
+
+<p>But he detained her.</p>
+
+<p>'Wait a moment; there is no hurry, is there? And it is my
+turn to ask questions. I want to know what you are going to
+do with yourself during my absence?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">{398}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And there was no mistaking his anxiety, though he strove
+to hide it.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall do as usual,' she returned tranquilly. 'Mollie will
+come to me every morning, and we shall work hard at our
+lessons, and&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But he interrupted her.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you sure that your father will approve of Mollie's
+visits?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no reason why he should disapprove,' she replied
+quickly; 'but of course I shall speak to him. There can be
+no possible reason why my poor Mollie should be punished.
+Father would not wish me to go to the Gray Cottage, and,
+indeed, I should not wish it myself; but there can be no
+objection to Mollie coming here.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps not; and, after all, it will not be for long.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, it will not be for long; so I must do my best for her.
+Do not trouble about me, Michael; I shall be as busy as possible.
+I am not going away with Gage, as she wishes. I tell
+her I would rather stay quietly with father and mother&mdash;perhaps
+next holidays&mdash;but we need not talk of that.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you will be very dull.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, indeed, I shall have too much to do&mdash;at least, I do not
+mean to think whether I am dull or not; but, Michael, I shall
+depend for a great deal of my comfort on your letters.'</p>
+
+<p>Then he knew that the burden of her lover's unhappiness
+was very heavy upon her, but that she would not willingly
+speak of it even to him.</p>
+
+<p>'I will tell you all that there is to tell. If you do not hear
+from me, it will be because there is nothing to say;' and with
+these words he let her go.</p>
+
+<p>He did not speak to her again that evening; for though
+Mr. Harcourt had taken his departure, Geraldine had remained,
+with the amiable intention of cheering her sister. If she did
+not quite succeed in her mission, it was for no want of effort on
+Audrey's part, who, as usual, did her best for everyone. But
+more than once Michael detected a weary look in her eyes,
+that told him that she would fain have been left alone. 'But
+that is the last thing that Gage and Harcourt would ever do,'
+he said to himself, with a shade of bitterness, as he saw the
+gentleness and patience with which Audrey received her sister's
+attentions.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">{399}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII</h2>
+
+<h3>MICHAEL'S LETTER</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Be not ashamed to be helped; for it is thy business to do thy duty,
+like a soldier in the assault on a town. How then, if being lame, thou
+canst not mount up on the battlements alone, but with the help of another
+it is possible.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">M. Aurelius Antoninus.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>About a week afterwards, Michael was writing in his sitting-room
+in South Audley Street when Cyril Blake entered the
+room. He put down his hat and began taking off his gloves as
+he stood by the table.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' asked Michael, looking up from his cheque-book;
+'have you hit it off, old man?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; we have settled it,' returned Cyril, dropping into a
+chair as though he were tired. 'And I am to enter on my
+duties next week.'</p>
+
+<p>'Next week! That is uncommonly short notice. Unwin
+must be in a precious hurry to close with the bargain.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is in a hurry. He says his work is all in arrears, and
+that his publishers want his book on Cyprus as soon as he
+can let them have it; and the papers are all in confusion. Of
+course I let him know that I was in no need of a holiday, and
+that I would far rather commence work at once. Mr. Unwin
+was most kind and considerate. My hours are to be from ten
+to six; so I shall be able to give a lesson or two in the evening.'</p>
+
+<p>'You know my opinion on that subject; but I fancy I have
+exhausted all my arguments for no purpose.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid so too,' returned Cyril quietly. 'Mr. Unwin
+thinks he can find me a pupil&mdash;a young fellow who is behind-hand
+with his classics, and has got plucked in his examination.
+Really, Burnett, I am extremely indebted to you for this
+introduction to Mr. Unwin. In spite of his peculiarities, he
+seems to have an excellent heart.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">{400}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh yes; he is an out-and-out good fellow. I can tell you
+some anecdotes that are very much to his credit, only I know
+he would never forgive me. Unwin likes his kind actions to
+blush unseen. Shall you think me impertinent, Blake, if I ask
+what amount of salary he means to give you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not in the least; you have every right to know. I am to
+have a hundred and twenty pounds a year&mdash;that is only thirty
+pounds less than I had at Rutherford. I never expected such
+good pay.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! Unwin can afford it.'</p>
+
+<p>'He seemed to say so. One thing&mdash;he thought I was older
+than I am. He seemed quite surprised when I told him I was
+only three-and-twenty.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael looked up a little sharply. There was no denying
+that Cyril looked older&mdash;even these few days had worked some
+indefinable change in him. He was not ill, though he could
+not be said to be well; but there had come to him a certain
+settled look that one sees on the faces of middle-aged men who
+have a large amount of care. And there were dark circles
+round his eyes, as though sleep had to be wooed with some
+degree of difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>'You are tolerably youthful still, Blake,' he said, not liking
+to admit that he saw this change in him.</p>
+
+<p>'Am I? I should not have said so from my own feelings.
+I fancy youth is rather a relative term; but I must acknowledge
+that Mr. Unwin treated me with a great deal of consideration.
+I know what you have told him; but he scarcely
+alluded to it, except in the most distant way: indeed, I am
+very grateful to him for his delicacy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I told you from the first that he was a good fellow.
+Unwin is what I call an all-round man. He is a bit fussy
+over his hobbies, but as long as you keep Charles the First out
+of your conversation I fancy it will be plain sailing. I hope
+you are not bursting with the subject, as the immortal Mr.
+Dick was, when he found himself compelled to fly his kites;
+but it is a fact that Unwin is a bit cranky about him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you for warning me,' returned Cyril, with a grave
+smile; 'now, my next business will be to look out for some
+lodgings within an easy distance of Cromwell Road. I have
+trespassed on your kind hospitality long enough.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense!' returned Michael bluntly. 'I expected you to
+stop on here for at least another month. I shall go back to
+Rutherford in a fortnight or so; but that would not make any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">{401}</a></span>
+difference to you: my old woman would be delighted to cook
+for you, and make you comfortable. You know, her husband
+was an old corporal in our regiment; but an amputated leg,
+and a little bit of money coming to his wife, made him fall out
+of the ranks. I have lodged with them for about ten years,
+and I have been in no hurry to change my quarters.'</p>
+
+<p>'No&mdash;they are very comfortable; but the fact is, Burnett,
+my mother gives me no peace. She writes every day to beg
+me to take her away from Rutherford. She says she will
+never go outside the gate as long as she remains there. I
+imagine she has a nervous dread of meeting my father; besides,
+she says everyone will be talking about her.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not believe a single person in Rutherford has begun to
+talk.'</p>
+
+<p>'So I tell her; but she will not believe me. You know my
+mother; it is not always easy to manage her. She will be
+quieter when she has once got away; so, with many thanks for
+all your kindness, Burnett, I will just look out for these
+lodgings.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, if your mind is made up, I will not try to change
+your determination; but, if you will excuse my plainness of
+speech, I think it would be better for you to be without your
+mother for another week or two.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay you are right,' replied Cyril wearily; 'and my
+quiet life here has been a great boon. But it does not do to
+think only of one's self. And, after all, nothing matters much.
+Perhaps Mrs. Johnson may know of some good rooms; they
+must be furnished, for of course it would never do to move our
+furniture under the present unsettled state of things. Besides,
+ours is too old to bear another journey. My mother can bring
+away the books, and her bits of china, and any little thing she
+fancies, and Biddy can mount guard over the rest until we can
+dispose of it. I daresay I can soon get the house off my hands.'</p>
+
+<p>'There will be no difficulty about that,' returned Michael,
+inwardly wondering at Cyril's cool, business-like tone; in his
+heart he admired him all the more for his pluck. 'Paget is
+looking out for a house&mdash;you know he expects to be married
+shortly&mdash;shall I write to him and give him a hint that you
+want to find a tenant for the Gray Cottage? I daresay the
+landlord will be glad for him to take it.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you will be so good. I forgot all about Paget. But he
+would turn up his nose at our old carpets; his bride-elect is
+rather a grand lady.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">{402}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Cyril's tone was a trifle cynical; but Michael would have
+forgiven him if his speech had been flavoured with the gall of
+bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>'Very well, then; I will write to him before country post,
+and we will have up Mrs. Johnson and talk to her.'</p>
+
+<p>And Cyril at once rang the bell.</p>
+
+<p>Two days afterwards Audrey received her first long letter
+from Michael. A brief note was all that had yet reached
+her.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>'<span class="smcap">My dear Audrey</span>,' it began,</p>
+
+<p>'I hope that you will not think that I have forgotten
+you; but when there is literally nothing to say, I am rather a
+bad hand at cooking up a letter; and I had not a single fact
+to go upon, except to tell you that, on the whole, we were
+pretty fit, and were jogging along somehow. Well, I have a
+whole budget of facts now, and my pen has become a valuable
+implement.</p>
+
+<p>'First, then, Blake has come to terms with Unwin; and he
+is to begin work on Monday. I believe in his heart he would
+still prefer the New Zealand scheme; and if we could only get
+rid of his mother&mdash;not an easy task that&mdash;I should be inclined
+to give him a helping hand in that direction; but as Blake
+does not see his way clear to leave her, he may as well take the
+berth offered to him. Privately, I believe Unwin is hugging
+himself under the idea that he has got a treasure. He spoke
+of him to me as a highly intelligent fellow and a first-rate
+Greek scholar, which we know are facts. His hours are pretty
+light&mdash;from ten to six&mdash;so he will have his evenings to himself;
+but I am sorry to say he means to look out for pupils. I have
+talked myself hoarse on the subject; but he will not listen to
+reason. Of course his health will suffer: he has always been
+accustomed to so much fresh air and exercise. If I could only
+induce him to join a cricket or tennis club! But it would
+never do to propose it just now; he has no heart for play.</p>
+
+<p>'One thing, he has given in to me about Kester, though I
+had some difficulty with him at first. We had a long talk last
+night, and I employed all my eloquence to bring him to see the
+thing in its right light; and at last he consented that I should
+have my way.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you remember my telling you about George Moore&mdash;that
+nice fellow who got into trouble with his rector? Well,
+he has married lately, and his wife is a very good woman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">{403}</a></span>
+Moore has taken a capital house at Brighton. He has a curacy at
+Kemp Town, and he is looking out for a few pupils to prepare
+for the university.</p>
+
+<p>'I am going to send Kester to him for a year or two, until
+he is old enough to go to Oxford. Abercrombie tells me the
+sea air will do him a world of good. I have just written to
+him to come up at once, as he must have a proper outfit. And
+now I must tell you that Blake has found some very good
+rooms, Kensington way. I went down with him yesterday,
+and I think they will do very well.</p>
+
+<p>'There is a good-sized drawing-room&mdash;a sunny, cheerful
+room, with a smaller one behind, where Blake can work with
+his pupils&mdash;and two good bedrooms. Biddy (how I wish she
+were not to be of the m&eacute;nage!) will have to content herself
+with a dull slip of a room on the basement. Of course the
+furniture is shabby, and there is very little of it; but I mean
+to introduce a few improvements by degrees. I like the appearance
+of the woman of the house. She is a widow, and is evidently
+very respectable. Her daughter, a very tidy sort of person,
+waits on the lodgers.</p>
+
+<p>'I think I have told you about all now. Blake has thawed
+lately, and we have long talks together, though perhaps they
+are not cheerful ones. On the whole, I think he shows a great
+deal of pluck. I doubt whether any other young man of his
+age would behave as well. If the Victoria Cross were ever
+given for moral heroism, I am sure Blake would get it.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-bye until we meet. I suppose I shall be back in
+another week or ten days. Take care of yourself, my dear, for
+the sake of your affectionate friend and cousin,</p>
+
+<p class="sign">'<span class="smcap">Michael.</span>'</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>'There is no one like Michael!' was Audrey's inward comment
+as she put down the letter.</p>
+
+<p>How simply he had told her his intentions with regard to
+Kester! as though his generosity were a matter of course.
+How few men of Michael's age would have cared to saddle
+themselves with such a responsibility! for one, too, who was
+not their own kith and kin.</p>
+
+<p>'It will cost him at least two hundred a year,' she thought;
+'no wonder my poor Cyril found it difficult to accept such an
+offer. He would take nothing from Michael for himself, but
+he could hardly refuse for Kester. Michael has virtually
+adopted him, just as I should like to adopt Mollie. I suppose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">{404}</a></span>
+he thinks he will have no son of his own, and there is all that
+money&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>And she sighed a little as she thought of Michael's loneliness.</p>
+
+<p>But if she had only known it, Michael's real generosity was
+shown in those lines he had written at the end of his letter.
+His munificence to Kester cost him far less than those few words
+which he wrote so ungrudgingly of his rival; but he knew how
+they would gladden her heart. The old beautiful smile would
+come to her lips, he thought, as she read them.</p>
+
+<p>'They will please her more than all the rest of the letter,' he
+said to himself.</p>
+
+<p>Two or three evenings after this letter had reached her,
+Audrey went into her father's study, as usual, to bid him good-night;
+but when he had kissed her with that special tenderness
+which he had shown to her ever since her trouble, she looked
+at him very seriously.</p>
+
+<p>'Father,' she said, as he kept his arm still round her, 'I
+wish you to know that I am going to the Gray Cottage to-morrow
+to bid Mrs. Blake good-bye.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Ross's arm dropped from her waist, and she saw
+at once that the news was not palatable to him.</p>
+
+<p>'Is that necessary, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, father; I think I may say that it is necessary. I
+have kept away from the Gray Cottage all this time because I
+knew that it was your wish that I should do so, and I have
+ever been guided by your wishes; but now Mrs. Blake is going
+away, and it would trouble me greatly if she were to leave
+without my bidding her good-bye.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think it would be far better, for her sake as well as yours,
+that there should be no special leave-taking.'</p>
+
+<p>'There I must differ from you, father dear,' returned Audrey
+gently. 'I could not bring myself to put such an affront on
+Cyril's mother. You know, I am still engaged to Cyril, and
+his mother can never be a stranger to me.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Ross regarded his daughter with a grieved expression.</p>
+
+<p>'My own child, if you would only be guided by me in this!&mdash;if
+you would give up this young man entirely&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Then she shook her head, and a grave, sweet smile came to
+her lips.</p>
+
+<p>'Would you have me break my word, father, because Cyril
+has broken his? But I do not blame him&mdash;he was obliged to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">{405}</a></span>
+do it; but no power on earth could compel me. Dear, why
+should we speak of this thing&mdash;you and I? When one's mind
+is made up, there is nothing more to be said. In everything
+else I will obey you as a child ought to obey her father. If
+you tell me that I must not go to the Gray Cottage to-morrow,
+you shall be obeyed, no matter what it may cost me; but'&mdash;pressing
+her lips to his forehead as she leant against him&mdash;'I do
+not think my father will be such a tyrant.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have no wish to tyrannise, Audrey,' returned Dr. Ross
+sadly. 'In all I have said, I have only considered your happiness.
+If you feel that there is this need to bid Mrs. Blake
+good-bye, I shall certainly not prevent you. I know I can
+trust my daughter. I have wished that the break should be
+final and conclusive, but it seems that you think otherwise.'</p>
+
+<p>'After to-morrow the separation will be as complete as you
+desire it to be.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am thankful to hear it. Of all women, I believe Mrs.
+Blake to be the most unsatisfactory. Audrey, my child, at the
+risk of paining you, I must say one word. There must be no
+written communication between her and you.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, father; I should not wish it. Any such letters would
+be impossible&mdash;at least, to me. Mollie will write to me sometimes,
+and I suppose I shall answer her letters; but she will
+not write often.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think I should tell her to write as seldom as possible.
+Mollie is a nice little girl, and we are all fond of her; but I
+should be inclined to doubt her discretion.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Audrey smiled faintly, and promised that Mollie's
+correspondence should be enclosed within strict limits. She
+knew well what her father meant. Mollie's letters would be
+overflowing with allusions to her brother; her simplicity would
+know no reticence.</p>
+
+<p>'I think you may trust me,' she said, after a moment's
+silence. 'Of course I understand what you mean.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then in that case we will not say any more about it,' replied
+her father. Trust her!&mdash;he knew that he could absolutely rely
+on her. When had she ever disappointed him? Of all girls,
+he had never known one so free from guile, so utterly transparent;
+there could be no shadow of doubt in his mind concerning
+her. And as he kissed her, and again wished her good-night,
+he blessed her in his heart for being such a daughter to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had carried her point. Her visit to Mrs. Blake had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">{406}</a></span>
+appeared to her in the light of an imperative duty; but it may
+be doubted whether she looked forward to it with any feeling
+of pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>Up to the present time she had spoken as little as possible
+of Mrs. Blake. She had only said a word or two to Cyril,
+begging him to make peace with his mother; she had asked
+him to soften his heart to her. 'With all her faults, I think
+no mother ever loved her son so well,' she had told him. 'It
+is not the highest love,' she had continued, 'since she has
+stooped to deceit and wrong for your sake. But it is not for
+you to judge her.' And she knew instinctively that her pleading
+had had weight with him.</p>
+
+<p>But though she had found words to defend her, she knew
+that Mrs. Blake could never be to her the friend she had been;
+and the shock of this discovery had been dreadful to her. She
+might still love and pity Cyril's mother; she might even be
+desirous of serving her; but the charm was broken, and, as far
+as Audrey's happiness was concerned, it might be well that the
+distance was widened between them.</p>
+
+<p>When she rose the next morning, she felt as though some
+difficult and painful duty lay before her; and as she walked
+towards the Cottage in the sunshine of an April afternoon, she
+told herself that her visit must not be a long one.</p>
+
+<p>A rush of bitter-sweet memories came over her as she pushed
+open the green gate for the last time, and Zack bounded to
+meet her. As she stooped to caress him, and he rested his
+glossy head against her with a dog's unreasoning adoration, she
+said in a low voice: 'Zack, old fellow, you will be glad to be
+with your master again.' And he whined, as though in joyful
+assent.</p>
+
+<p>There were no signs of either Mollie or Biddy, so she went
+up as usual&mdash;unannounced. The drawing-room door was open,
+and as her footsteps sounded in the passage Mrs. Blake came
+quietly out. She stepped back as she saw Audrey, and a slight
+colour came to her face.</p>
+
+<p>'It is you&mdash;at last!' she said abruptly; but there was no
+other greeting.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it is I,' returned Audrey, kissing her, and speaking in
+her usual tranquil manner. 'Do you think I should have let
+you leave Rutherford without bidding you good-bye!'</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Blake's eyes had a dangerous gleam in them.</p>
+
+<p>'How could I know that they would let you come?' she
+said almost harshly. 'Am I not a pariah, an outcast from all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">{407}</a></span>
+respectable society? Does not Dr. Ross think so, as well as
+that excellent sister of yours? Do you know what my life has
+been during the last fortnight, since my boy left me? I have
+not dared to leave my own gate; if I were stifled for air, I
+would not venture to stir out, for fear of seeing a face I know.'</p>
+
+<p>'You need not have been afraid; no one in Rutherford has
+heard your story.'</p>
+
+<p>'But they may have heard it by this time. You forget
+that Dr. Charrington and Mr. Harcourt have been told. A
+man would never keep such a secret from his wife. Mrs.
+Charrington may have told it to half the masters' wives by this
+time; this is why I have begged Cyril to take me away, because
+my life is unendurable.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are going to him now,' observed Audrey soothingly,
+for she saw at once that Mrs. Blake was in one of her unhappy
+moods.</p>
+
+<p>She was thin and pale, and there was a sharpened look
+about her features, as though her inward excitement had worn
+her.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I am going to him; but what good will my life be to
+me? He has forgiven me&mdash;at least, he says so&mdash;but every hour
+of the day his sadness will be a reproach to me. When I see
+his unhappiness, how am I to bear it, when I know it is all
+my fault? Audrey, tell me one thing: you are still engaged
+to him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' returned Audrey very softly, 'I am still engaged to
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Burnett told me so; he said you had refused to
+give him up. Oh, my darling, how I loved you when he said
+that! It was brave of you to say such words, but my boy
+deserves them. If ever a girl was worshipped, he worshipped
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Mrs. Blake, I think we will not speak of that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why should we not speak of it? It is the only thing that
+will comfort me, and him too. Ah, if you only loved him as
+he loves you, there would be no difficulty. Many a girl has
+given up more for her lover than you will ever be asked to give
+up, and has found her reward in a happy life.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will not pretend to misunderstand you,' returned Audrey
+simply; but she felt as she spoke that her father had been
+right to dread this interview. 'I know what you would insinuate&mdash;you
+would have me marry Cyril without my parents'
+consent.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">{408}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I would,' was Mrs. Blake's unabashed reply; 'and where
+would be the harm, Audrey? You are of age; you have your
+own money. No one has a right to prevent your marriage.
+Of course, your people would be angry at first, but after a time
+they would relent. My darling girl, think of it: would it not
+be a noble act of self-sacrifice? And it would save Cyril!'</p>
+
+<p>'He would not wish to save himself at the risk of my happiness
+and peace of mind,' she replied calmly. 'Dear Mrs. Blake,
+how strange that you should not know your own son better
+than that! Cyril would never marry me without my father's
+consent, neither would I marry him. Under such circumstances
+we should both be wretched.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you call that love?' returned Mrs. Blake with a sneer.
+'I am different from you, Audrey. I would have given up
+home, country, everything, for the sake of the man I loved;
+that is why I hated Mat, because I was bound to him, and the
+other man was free. It just maddened me! What!' interrupting
+herself, 'are you going to leave me?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is useless to stay,' returned Audrey, in a pained voice.
+'If you talk like this, it is far better for me to go.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Blake burst into passionate tears, and clasped
+her in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>'Going! when I have never thanked you for your goodness
+to my boy; when I have never told you how dearly I have loved
+you for it! Audrey, forgive me, and stay with me a little, and
+I will try not to talk so wildly. It makes me feel better only
+to look at you&mdash;and you used to love me a little.'</p>
+
+<p>Then very reluctantly Audrey suffered herself to be persuaded,
+and to remain for another half-hour.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">{409}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV</h2>
+
+<h3>MOLLIE GOES INTO EXILE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'There are some natures that cannot unfold under pressure, or in the
+presence of unregarding power. Hers was one. They require a clear space
+round them, the removal of everything which may overmaster them, and
+constant delicate attention.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mark Rutherford.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>Audrey had no cause to regret her concession. Mrs. Blake
+quieted down the moment she resumed her seat; and though
+the remainder of her conversation concerned herself and Cyril,
+she did not venture again on any dangerous allusion.</p>
+
+<p>It was only when Audrey said that she must really go, as
+she had promised her mother to be back by tea-time, that she
+made an attempt to coax her into sending Cyril a message; but
+Audrey's strong sense of honour made her proof against this
+temptation. She would send him no message at all. Even if
+she thought it right to do so, how could she rely on Mrs. Blake's
+veracity? how could she be sure that it might not be delivered
+with annotations from her own fertile brain?</p>
+
+<p>'But you will at least send him your love?' pleaded Mrs.
+Blake.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need for me to send him that,' returned Audrey
+with rising colour. 'Indeed, there is no need of any message
+at all: Cyril and I understand each other.'</p>
+
+<p>And then Mrs. Blake cried a little and called her a hard-hearted
+girl, but relented the next minute, and kissed her
+affectionately.</p>
+
+<p>'You will tell Mollie to come to me as usual to-morrow?'
+were Audrey's parting words, and Mrs. Blake nodded assent.</p>
+
+<p>As Audrey opened the green gate some impulse made her
+look back. Mrs. Blake was still on the threshold, watching
+her, and her large dark eyes were full of tears. There was
+something pathetic in her appearance. With a sudden impulse,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">{410}</a></span>
+for which she was unable to account, Audrey went back and
+gave her another kiss.</p>
+
+<p>'We do not know when we shall meet again,' she said in a
+low voice. 'Try to be as happy as you can, and to make him
+happy too.'</p>
+
+<p>She was glad that it was over, she told herself, as she
+walked back to Woodcote; nevertheless, she could not shake off
+a certain sense of depression. That dear Gray Cottage&mdash;how
+she had grown to love it, and what happy hours she had passed
+there, sitting by that window and watching the pigeons fluttering
+among the arches! Her heart was soft towards the woman she
+had left. Could she help it, she thought, if her moral sense
+were blunted and distorted? There was something defective
+and warped in her nature&mdash;something that seemed to make her
+less accountable than other people. Truth was not dear to her,
+or her marriage-vows sacred in her eyes. How came it that she
+and Matthew O'Brien should have a son like Cyril? Audrey's
+girlish brains grew confused over questions that might well
+baffle a psychologist; she could make nothing of them.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie came to her the next morning with her eyes swollen
+with crying.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, dear Miss Ross!' she exclaimed, the moment she
+entered the room, 'do you know mamma says that we are going
+away to-morrow? I thought it was to be next week, and Biddy
+thought so too; but mamma says that Cyril is all alone in the
+lodgings, and that we ought to go to him at once. Biddy and
+she are packing up the books and things, and mamma seemed
+to think that I ought to have remained to help her; but I told
+her that I must&mdash;I must say-good-bye to my dear, dear Miss
+Ross;' and here Mollie gave her a low-spirited hug.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Mollie,' returned Audrey kindly, 'I have arranged
+that already with your mother, and you are to spend the whole
+morning with me. We will not do any lessons; I can see you
+are not fit for them. And it is such a lovely morning. We
+will go in the garden, and sit on that nice sunny seat overlooking
+Deep-water Chine. Do you remember our voyage there,
+and how contemptuous you were about the scenery?' but this
+allusion to one of the happiest days she had ever spent in her
+young life only brought on a fresh burst of grief.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mollie was broken-hearted at the idea of leaving her
+friend, and it was a long time before Audrey could induce her
+to look at things in a less lugubrious light. Michael, prowling
+about with his cigarette, and followed closely by his short-legged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">{411}</a></span>
+favourite, came upon them sitting hand-in-hand on a bench
+near the pond; but he was careful not to betray his presence,
+and he called off Booty rather sternly when the affectionate
+little animal showed some disposition to join his friends. Neither
+of them saw him. Audrey was talking earnestly, but he only
+heard a fragment of what she was saying.</p>
+
+<p>'So you see, dear Mollie,' she went on, in a soft, persuasive
+voice, 'that you will be as great a comfort to me when you are
+away as you have been here. When I think of you all, I shall
+say to myself: "Mollie is taking care of them."'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I see; and indeed, indeed I will try to do my best for
+Cyril and mamma,' replied Mollie, with a sob. 'I know how
+unhappy poor Cyril is; and mamma will not be the comfort to
+him that she used to be. Is it not sad to think of it, Miss
+Ross? Mamma sometimes shows me his letters&mdash;she always
+did, you know&mdash;but somehow they seem so different. I wonder
+sometimes if she notices the change in them; but she never
+says so. He does not want her to come up to London&mdash;one can
+see that so plainly&mdash;he keeps begging her to be patient, and
+give him time to settle things. But you know mamma: she
+is always in such a hurry&mdash;she never can wait for anything,'
+finished Mollie, in her artless way.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey suppressed a smile. Mrs. Blake's children certainly
+read her truly; but with all her faults they loved her well.
+Perhaps Kester had stood aloof from her most; but Mollie had
+always been devoted to her mother.</p>
+
+<p>'You will miss the country, of course,' went on Audrey
+cheerfully; 'but London has its charms. You must get your
+brother to take you in the parks and Kensington Gardens; you
+must tell him that you and Zack want exercise, and then he
+will not refuse.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma will walk with me,' returned Mollie disconsolately.
+'She is very fond of crowded streets and shops; she will want
+me to go with her, and then we shall be obliged to leave Zack
+at home, for fear he should be lost. Oh, I know all about it!'
+continued Mollie, with a sigh. 'I shall be far too tired to walk
+with Cyril, even if he asked me; but he would not, because he
+knows mamma would be hurt: she always likes him to ask her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind,' replied Audrey, changing the subject abruptly.
+'Remember, Mollie, we can only do our best for people, and
+leave all the rest. I am sure that in a thousand ways you will
+be a comfort to them. You have always been their thoughtful
+little housekeeper, and you can be that still. You can keep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">{412}</a></span>
+the place bright and cheery, and make it look as home-like as
+possible. And, Mollie, I want you to do something; but it is
+to be a secret between you and me, and no one&mdash;no one'&mdash;repeating
+the word emphatically&mdash;'is to know about it.'</p>
+
+<p>And Mollie promised faithfully to hold her tongue.</p>
+
+<p>'Your mother is passionately fond of flowers.' (But
+Audrey, in her heart, knew someone else loved them too.) 'I
+want you to lay out this prudently and by degrees;' and she
+slipped a sovereign into Mollie's hand. 'Flowers are so
+plentiful in London, and you can always have a nice fresh
+bunch for the breakfast-table. I remember your mother once
+saying she would go without food to buy flowers. When I
+think you have come to an end of the money, I shall send you
+some more.'</p>
+
+<p>'But if anyone asks me who bought them,' asked Mollie,
+with one of her wide-open glances, 'what can I say then, Miss
+Ross?'</p>
+
+<p>'Say that you have bought them with your own money&mdash;for
+it is your money, Mollie; and if you would rather buy
+gloves with it, you are welcome to do so.'</p>
+
+<p>But Mollie protested eagerly that she would far rather buy
+flowers.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril is so fond of them,' she added innocently, 'and I
+shall always take care to have a good-sized bunch on his
+writing-table. But what shall I do about lessons, Miss
+Ross?' she continued, when this point was settled. 'I am
+getting on so beautifully with French and music, and it will
+be such a pity to lose it all. I asked mamma the other
+evening, and she said she was sure she did not know; she
+might help me with my French, but she was afraid Cyril could
+not afford music-lessons. Besides, there would be the piano
+to hire; for of course I must practise. Oh dear! I don't see
+how I am to get on!' with another big sigh.</p>
+
+<p>'I think we must leave all that for the present, dear
+Mollie,' replied Audrey, rather sorrowfully. 'One needs a
+great deal of faith when things go crooked. Keep up by
+yourself as well as you can, and leave the music alone for a
+little. By and by, when you think he can bear it, you might
+speak to your brother; but if he cannot afford it&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey stopped. Michael's generosity must not be taxed
+any further; but she had money of her own, and nothing
+would please her more than to spend a little on Mollie's
+education. Would her father allow it? she wondered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">{413}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I think we must leave this question for the present,
+Mollie,' she said, in her decided way. 'Make up your mind
+not to trouble about it for a month or two.'</p>
+
+<p>And Mollie, with her usual sweet unselfishness, agreed
+to this.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey sent her away cheered, and a good deal comforted,
+at receiving her dear Miss Ross's permission to write long
+letters.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't mind how long they are,' Audrey had observed,
+with an indulgent smile; 'but you must not write too often,
+neither must you expect to hear from me always in return.
+My letters will be very few, dear Mollie, and they are only
+for your own eyes&mdash;remember that.' And when Mollie had
+promised this with some reluctance, the gong sounded for
+luncheon, and Audrey was obliged to dismiss her a little
+hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was surprised to find how much she missed her
+favourite. Mollie's lessons had occupied the greater part of
+her mornings, and lately this occupation had been a boon
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had never loved idleness, but now she loathed it;
+her girlish employments no longer satisfied her. She made
+wider margins for her activity, and schemed with an anxiety
+that looked like restlessness how she might fill up the day.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps her happiest hours, after Mollie left her, were
+spent in the Hillside nursery, playing with her baby-nephew.
+Geraldine noticed with secret satisfaction that her boy was
+becoming an engrossing interest to his young aunt.</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure he knows you, Audrey,' she would say. 'Look
+how he stretches out his dear little arms and coos to you to
+take him! Go to Aunt Audrey, my precious!' and Geraldine
+would place him in her sister's arms as though she loved to see
+them together.</p>
+
+<p>Geraldine had certain fine instincts of her own. Her
+womanly intuition told her that nothing could be more healing
+than the touch of those baby fingers. When Audrey sat
+down opposite to her, with her nephew sprawling on her lap,
+and kicking up his pink toes in a baby's aimless fashion, her
+face always looked happier, and a more contented look came
+into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'You are very like your mother, Leonard,' she would say to
+him: 'but I do not believe that you will ever be as handsome.'</p>
+
+<p>Baby's gurgling answer was no doubt rich with infantile<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">{414}</a></span>
+wisdom, if he could only have couched it in mortal language.
+But, all the same, he was fulfilling his mission. Audrey felt
+somehow as though things must come right some day when
+baby gripped her finger and held it fast, or else tangled her
+hair. 'You are a happy woman, Gage,' she said one day;
+but she was a little sorry that she made the remark when
+Geraldine got up quickly and kissed her, with tears in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'You will be happy, too, some day, my darling,' she said
+very tenderly. But to this Audrey made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie was faithful to her compact, and did not write for
+three whole weeks. The school had reassembled by that time,
+and a tall, pale young man with spectacles filled Cyril's place
+at table. Audrey took very little notice of him. When
+Michael was there, she talked to him; but she found any
+conversation with the new-comer almost impossible.</p>
+
+<p>'It hurts me to see him there,' she said once to her
+mother, and her lip quivered as she spoke. And of course her
+mother understood her.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dear, it is very hard; your father was only saying so
+last night. I think he notices how silent you are at luncheon.
+Mr. Gisbourne is certainly not prepossessing&mdash;not like our
+dear Cyril; but your father says he is an excellent fellow.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think I shall change my place at table, mother. I shall
+sit between you and father. That is, if you do not mind,' she
+added, with ready courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>'My love, as though I should mind! And I am sure your
+father will be delighted to have you. He was only speaking
+of you an hour ago. He thinks you are behaving so well,
+Audrey, and so does Percival. Percival declared that he was
+quite proud of you at the Charringtons' "at home"; that it
+must have been such an ordeal for you to meet all those
+people. A girl in your position is generally so sensitive; but
+he told me that even Geraldine could not have been more
+dignified and at her ease.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is high praise from Percival,' returned Audrey,
+smiling. 'He thinks Gage's manners are perfection&mdash;and so
+they are; but, mother, he need not have praised me so much.
+The people were nothing to me&mdash;I hardly thought of them at
+all. I was only remembering the last time I was there, and
+how Cyril was with me; it was the saddest evening I have
+spent yet.'</p>
+
+<p>And then she sighed and disengaged herself from her
+mother's embrace.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">{415}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Don't let us talk of it, mother dear; one can bear things
+better if one does not speak of them. I am going to drive with
+Gage now, and perhaps she will keep me to dinner;' and then
+she went quickly away.</p>
+
+<p>After all, it was better to do something than to waste her
+time in complaining: it was seldom that she allowed herself to
+speak of her feelings even to her mother, and if she suffered a
+word or two to escape her, she always reproached herself afterwards
+for her weakness.</p>
+
+<p>When Mollie's letter arrived the next day she left it unopened
+until she was in her own room. Michael was up in
+town, as usual. He rarely spent more than a few days together
+at Woodcote now. Audrey did not regret his absence as she
+would otherwise have done, because she knew he would be with
+Cyril.</p>
+
+<p>When her father glanced at her letter she said quietly that
+it was from Mollie, and then he made no further observation.</p>
+
+<p>But when she was in her own room she opened it somewhat
+eagerly. 'Dear little Mollie! I never thought I should miss
+her quite so much,' she thought.</p>
+
+<p>Evidently Mollie had taken a long time to write that letter;
+it had been commenced two days after her arrival in London,
+and it had not been completed until now.</p>
+
+<p>The first two or three pages, written in Mollie's girlish
+angular handwriting, were filled with plaintive lamentations
+over her enforced exile and separation from her dear Miss Ross;
+and here and there a bleared word showed touchingly where a
+great tear had rolled down and blotted the page; but the next
+entry, written a few days afterwards, showed some signs that
+the prospect had brightened a little. One passage gave great
+pleasure to Audrey:</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma likes our lodgings excessively, and though I shall
+never love any place like our dear Gray Cottage, they are really
+very nice; indeed, they are better than any lodgings we have
+been in yet. Mamma says she never saw rooms so well furnished;
+the carpets and papers are rather ugly, and I cannot
+say much for the curtains; but there is a delicious couch&mdash;one
+of those soft, springy ones that are so comfortable, rather like
+the one in the Woodcote drawing-room, and two delightfully
+easy chairs.</p>
+
+<p>'Then, in the little room we call Cyril's study, there is really
+a very handsome writing-table, with one of those green reading-lamps
+that Dr. Ross always uses, and a nice little secretaire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">{416}</a></span>
+for papers. Mamma was so charmed when she saw that; she
+told Cyril that he only wanted a few stained shelves to hold
+his books, and that then he would be as snug as possible. I
+thought Cyril looked a little queer when she said that, and
+when she exclaimed at the softness of the couch I saw such an
+odd smile on his face. I fancy he must have bought it himself,
+and that he does not wish mamma to know it.' ('Oh, you
+little goose!' observed Audrey, when she came to this; but
+her eyes were very bright as she went on with the letter.)</p>
+
+<p>'There were such quantities of flowers and plants about the
+room when we arrived, and the most beautiful tea set out on
+the big round table. Mamma laughed, and said Cyril was
+very extravagant to provide such luxuries; but he told her he
+had had nothing to do with it, and he did not seem to enjoy
+anything.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid he works too hard. Mamma is beginning to
+say that she might as well have remained in Rutherford, for
+all she sees of him; but I know she does not mean it, for she
+is as happy as possible.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril never gets home until half-past six, and then we
+have tea. His pupil comes to him at eight for two hours. I
+think Zack has the best of it. Cyril always takes him out for
+a long walk before breakfast. I should like to go with them,
+but I think Cyril prefers going alone. He only walks with
+mamma on Sunday afternoon, and then he comes in looking so
+tired. He often falls asleep when he sits down. I never
+remember his ever doing such a thing before; but mamma says
+she is sure that he sleeps badly, though he will never own to
+it. Cyril never did like to be questioned about himself.</p>
+
+<p>'We see Captain Burnett sometimes, and Cyril says he often
+meets him on his way home. One day Captain Burnett asked
+me if I should like to see some pictures, and of course I said
+yes. We drove such a long way in a hansom, and I did so
+enjoy seeing all those beautiful pictures. Captain Burnett was
+kind; he explained everything to me, and when he thought I was
+tired he took me to a grand place, where we had ices and coffee.</p>
+
+<p>'He asked me a great many questions, and when I told him
+that I had no one to teach me now I had left my dear Miss
+Ross, he looked very grave. He wanted to know if mamma
+did not help me at all, and I was obliged to confess that the
+French books were still unopened; and then he looked grave
+again and said, "Poor little thing!" as though he were sorry
+for me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">{417}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Well, was it not strange?&mdash;the very next night Cyril began
+talking to mamma about it. He told her that now Kester
+was away they ought to be able to afford to give me a good
+education, that they were not poorer than they had been at
+Rutherford, and that something must be done at once.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril spoke as though he thought mamma was to blame,
+and then mamma cried, as she always does if Cyril finds fault
+with her; but the very next day she went out alone, and in
+the evening she told Cyril that she had found a very good school
+close by our lodgings, where they had excellent masters, and
+that she had arranged that I was to go there four times a week
+to take French, German, and music lessons. I could see Cyril
+was pleased, though he said very little, but by and by he asked
+me what I should do about a piano, and mamma suggested
+that we should hire one. Is this not nice, my dear Miss Ross,
+and is not Cyril a darling for thinking of everything so
+nicely?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Mollie, I am afraid you are a sad goose!' was Audrey's
+inward ejaculation at this point, and there was a smile on her
+lips as she finished the letter.</p>
+
+<p>Michael was fulfilling his promise nobly. Audrey knew him
+well enough to be sure that those meetings with Cyril were by
+no means accidental. 'Whatsoever thou doest, do it with thy
+might,' was a precept literally obeyed by Michael Burnett.
+When he held out that right hand of fellowship to his rival,
+there was no sense of grudging in his mind. If a cheery word
+or two would brighten Cyril's day, and make his hard life a
+little less unendurable, Michael would speak that word at the
+cost of any inconvenience to himself. Audrey may be forgiven
+if she cherished the notion that Michael's frequent visits to
+London were undertaken more for Cyril's benefit than his own;
+and if Michael could have given a somewhat different version
+of his motives, he kept all such interpretation to himself.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">{418}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV</h2>
+
+<h3>AUDREY RECEIVES A TELEGRAM</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'One fourth of life is intelligible, the other three-fourths is unintelligible
+darkness; and our earliest duty is to cultivate the habit of not looking
+round the corner.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mark Rutherford.</span></p></div>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'Thou shalt lose thy life, and find it; thou shalt boldly cast it forth;</div>
+<div class="verse">And then back again receiving, know it in its endless worth.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Archbishop Trench.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Audrey thought it was the longest summer term that she had
+ever known; never in her life had weeks or months passed so
+slowly.</p>
+
+<p>To all outward appearance she was well and cheerful, and
+spent her time much as usual&mdash;helping her mother and visiting
+her poor people in the morning, and in the afternoon attending
+cricket matches or playing tennis at the various garden-parties
+of the season. The nine days' wonder about the Blakes' sudden
+disappearance was over, and the Rutherford ladies no longer
+whispered strange tales into each other's ears&mdash;each more
+marvellous than the last. It was said and believed by more
+than one person that Audrey's engagement had been broken off
+because Dr. Ross had discovered that there was hereditary
+insanity in the Blake family; indeed, one lady&mdash;a notorious
+gossip, and who was somewhat deaf&mdash;was understood to say
+that she had heard Mrs. Blake was at that moment in a private
+lunatic asylum.</p>
+
+<p>That Audrey Ross did not take her broken engagement much
+to heart was the general opinion in Rutherford. Would a girl
+play tennis, dance, or organise picnics, they said, if she were
+languishing in heart-sickness?&mdash;and there was certainly no
+appearance of effort in the readiness with which Audrey
+responded to any plan that her young friends proposed. As
+they remarked, 'Audrey Ross was always up to fun.' But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">{419}</a></span>
+Michael Burnett could have told them a different story if they
+had asked him. Audrey's sweet, sound disposition made her
+peculiarly alive to a sense of duty.</p>
+
+<p>'One must think of other people, always and under all
+circumstances,' she had said to him when her trouble was fresh
+upon her, and he knew that she was only acting up to her words.</p>
+
+<p>She would play because other people wished to play, not
+because her heart was in it. During his brief visits to Woodcote
+they were always together, and more than once he told himself
+that he could see a great change in her. She had at times a
+tired, burdened look, as though weary thoughts were habitual
+to her. But she never spoke to him of Cyril, or questioned him
+in any way. He would tell her unasked about Mollie, and now
+and then he would drop a word casually about Cyril.</p>
+
+<p>'I met Blake the other day,' he would say. 'I think he
+looks better, though he says the hot weather tries him; he is
+getting on with his work, and appears to like it.' Or another
+time: 'I dined with Unwin last week; he and Blake seem to
+hit it off famously. Unwin says he has far more discrimination
+and intelligence than other young men of his age, and that for
+steadiness and application he might be fifty. But he thinks he
+ought to take more exercise; his hard work and the heat
+together are making him thin.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey remembered this speech of Michael's, as, a month
+later on, she sat on the Whitby sands. She had yielded to
+Geraldine's persuasion to accompany them to the seaside. Dr.
+Ross and his wife were paying visits in Cumberland, Michael
+was in North Wales with an artist friend, and Audrey had
+accepted her sister's invitation very willingly.</p>
+
+<p>Both Percival and Geraldine were very kind to her, she
+thought. They let her wander about alone and do as she liked,
+and they were always ready to plan something for her enjoyment&mdash;a
+drive or a sail, or a day on the moors. Audrey liked being
+with them, and baby Leonard was more fascinating than ever;
+yet it may be doubted if she would not have been happier at
+Rutherford. The absence of all duties, of any settled employment,
+tried her. A holiday, to be thoroughly enjoyed, must
+be attended with a disengaged mind, and with a certain freedom
+from worry; and this was not possible with Audrey. She
+would talk to her sister cheerfully, or play with Leonard, and
+she was an intelligent companion for Mr. Harcourt when they
+took long walks together; but in her moments of solitude,
+when she roamed alone over the yellow sands with the fresh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">{420}</a></span>
+salt wind blowing in her face, her thoughts would be sad enough
+as she thought of Cyril in his hot London lodgings.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my darling, if you could only be with me and feel this
+wind!' she would think, with a great rush of pity and tenderness;
+'if I could only take your place a little and bear things
+for you!' and the sense that she could do nothing for him would
+lie like a load on her heart.</p>
+
+<p>'I think Audrey is getting over her trouble,' Geraldine said
+one day to her husband. 'Baby is doing her good; and really,
+when she is playing with him she seems just like her dear old
+self.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course she will get over it,' returned Mr. Harcourt
+impatiently; 'all girls do. I tell you what, Jerry: when we
+get back to Hillside we will have Graham down to stop
+with us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, did you mean Lionel Graham all the time?' returned
+Geraldine, opening her eyes very widely. 'Is he the man you
+always wanted for Audrey? He is nice, of course&mdash;all the
+Grahams are nice&mdash;but he is dreadfully ugly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense, my love! Graham ugly, with that fine head of
+his! I tell you the girl is lucky who gets such a clever fellow.
+I recollect he was rather struck with her last spring. We will
+have him down and see if they can take to each other.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Percy dear, you forget Audrey declares she is still
+engaged to Cyril Blake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Stuff and nonsense!' replied her husband, waxing exceedingly
+irate at this remark. 'I wonder at you&mdash;I do indeed!&mdash;repeating
+anything so ridiculous! Has not Blake given her
+up?&mdash;and very proper of him, too&mdash;and has not your father
+forbidden her to have anything more to do with him? My love,
+with all my respect for your judgment, I must differ from you.
+Audrey is not the girl to propose anything so indelicate&mdash;so
+altogether wanting in propriety&mdash;as to thrust herself upon a
+man who very properly declines to marry her. No, no; we will
+have Graham down. He is a first-rate fellow, and when he
+makes up his mind to a thing, he sticks at nothing. That's
+the way to win a girl&mdash;eh, Jerry?' And Geraldine blushed
+beautifully as she recalled Percival's bold wooing.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, do as you like,' she said tranquilly; 'but I don't
+believe Audrey will look at him.' And then she made signs to
+the nurse to bring her the baby; and Mr. Harcourt forgot his
+match-making schemes as he played with his son and heir.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was the only one who was glad when the time came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">{421}</a></span>
+for them to return to Rutherford: her mother's face was a
+delicious sight to her; and as she presided again at her little
+tea-table she gave vent to a fervent 'Oh, how glad I am to be
+at home again!'</p>
+
+<p>'That sounds as though you have not enjoyed your holiday,
+Audrey; and yet Geraldine was so pleased to have you.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I have enjoyed myself, mother dear. Whitby is
+beautiful, and I did just what I liked, and Gage and Percival
+could not have been kinder or more thoughtful; and then
+Leonard is such a darling!'</p>
+
+<p>'You look all the better for your change; but you are still
+a little thin, love,' returned her mother, scrutinising her
+daughter rather narrowly. But Audrey disclaimed this charge:
+if she were thin, it was because Percival had taken her such
+long walks, she declared. But she was not thin&mdash;she was
+very well; only she was tired of her idleness, and meant to
+work hard.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish Michael were at home,' she went on. 'He has
+returned from Wales, but he means to stay for a week or two
+in South Audley Street. Kester is with him. Home is never
+quite the same without Michael,' she finished, looking round
+her as though she missed something.</p>
+
+<p>Michael had really stayed up in London for Kester's sake;
+but he was glad of any excuse that kept him away from
+Woodcote. When Kester's visit was over, he went with him to
+Victoria, and saw him off. He had some business in Aldersgate
+Street, and he thought he might as well take a Circle train,
+and go on. Michael always hated business in the City&mdash;the
+noise of the crowded thoroughfares jarred on him&mdash;and he
+thought he might as well get it over. He had finished his
+business, and was walking down Cheapside, when, to his
+surprise, he saw Cyril Blake coming out of a shop. Cyril
+seemed equally surprised at this unexpected <i>rencontre</i>.</p>
+
+<p>'I know you haunt Cromwell and Exhibition Roads,' he
+said, in rather an amused tone; 'but I always understood
+you shunned the City.'</p>
+
+<p>'So I do; but one may have business there sometimes,'
+returned Michael, linking his arm in Cyril's; for the two had
+grown fast friends, in spite of the disparity in their ages. 'I
+suppose it would be inquisitive on my part to ask what brings
+you here at this time in the afternoon?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not at all. I have only been to my tailor's,' replied
+Cyril, smiling. 'I am not a swell like you, and City prices<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">{422}</a></span>
+suit my pocket better than West-End ones. I was feeling
+rather dilapidated, so, as Unwin dismissed me early this afternoon,
+I thought I would attend to my outer man.'</p>
+
+<p>'You would have been wiser to have run down to Teddington
+and had a pull up the river. You look as though
+you want fresh air, Blake. I don't know about your outer
+man, as you call it; but I must say you look uncommonly seedy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do I? Oh, I am all right,' he added hastily. 'I have not
+been used to spend a summer in town. How did you get on
+in Worth Wales, Burnett? I was never there, but I hear the
+scenery is beautiful.'</p>
+
+<p>'So it is. You should see some of Jack Cooper's sketches;
+they would give an idea of the place;' and Michael launched
+into an enthusiastic description of a thunderstorm he had
+witnessed under Snowdon. 'I took Booty to pay his devoirs
+at the tomb of Bethgelert. On the whole, I think Booty
+enjoyed his trip as much as we did.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael had so much to say about his trip, that they found
+themselves on the platform before he had half finished. It was
+half-past five by this time, and a good many business men
+were returning home. The station was somewhat crowded,
+but as they piloted their way through the knots of passengers
+Michael still talked on. Cyril had listened at first with
+interest; he was becoming much attached to his new friend,
+and though his masculine undemonstrativeness forbade him to
+say much about his feelings, his gratitude to Michael was deep
+and intense, and amid his own troubles he had an unselfish
+satisfaction in thinking that, whatever his own future might
+be, Kester's was safe. By and by his attention began to flag;
+he was watching an old man who stood at a little distance
+from them at the edge of the platform. He was a very dirty
+old man, and at any other time his appearance would certainly
+not have inspired Cyril with the wish to look at him a second
+time; but he was attracted by his swaying, lurching movements,
+which would have conveyed to any practised eye that
+the old reprobate was in an advanced stage of intoxication.
+What if he were to lose his balance and fall over the edge of
+the platform? The down train was momentarily expected.
+Cyril could bear it no longer.</p>
+
+<p>'Excuse me, Burnett,' he said hastily; 'that old fellow
+looks as though he might topple over any minute;' and before
+Michael could understand what he meant, he had dived across
+the platform.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">{423}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The whistle of the advancing train sounded at that moment,
+and almost simultaneously there was a shriek of terror from
+some woman standing at the farther end.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor wretch! he has done for himself,' Michael heard someone
+say. 'He went clean over.'</p>
+
+<p>Michael was slightly short-sighted, and a crowd of people
+intercepted his view, and he could not at once make his way
+through them. He could not see Cyril, but the surging, excited
+throng all veering towards the end of the platform told him
+that some serious accident had occurred.</p>
+
+<p>Blake must have been an eyewitness of the whole thing, he
+thought, as he tried to elbow his way through horrified men
+and hysterical women. If he could only find him! And then
+a very stout man in a navvy's garb blocked up his passage.</p>
+
+<p>'Is the poor old man killed?' Michael asked; but he feared
+what the answer would be. Was the gray-headed sinner
+summoned in this terrible manner to the bar of his offended
+Judge?</p>
+
+<p>'Lord bless you, sir!' returned the man, 'he is as right as
+possible; the train did not touch him. It is the other poor
+fellow that is done for, I expect. Me and my mate have just
+got him out.'</p>
+
+<p>A sudden horrible, almost sickening sensation of fear came
+to Michael.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my God! not that, not that!' burst from his lips as
+he literally fought his way down the platform. 'Let me pass,
+sir! I believe I know him!' he cried hoarsely, and the man
+in pity to his white face drew back.</p>
+
+<p>There was a motionless figure lying on the bench at the
+other end, surrounded by porters and strangers. Michael darted
+towards it, but when he caught sight of the face he uttered a
+groan. Alas, alas! he knew it too well.</p>
+
+<p>'Give me place,' he said, almost fiercely; 'that dead man is
+my friend.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is not dead, Burnett,' observed a gentleman, who was
+supporting Cyril's head; 'but he is badly hurt, poor fellow!
+We must get him away at once.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank Heaven it is you, Abercrombie!' returned Michael
+excitedly; 'he is safer with you than with any man alive.'</p>
+
+<p>But Dr. Abercrombie shook his head gravely.</p>
+
+<p>'My carriage is outside, and is at your service,' he said;
+'and for the matter of that, so am I. Let me give these men
+directions how to move him.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">{424}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then Michael stood aside while the doctor issued his
+commands.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril had not regained full consciousness, but as Dr.
+Abercrombie placed himself beside him and applied remedies
+from time to time, a low moan now and then escaped from his
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>Michael, who had to sit with the coachman, thought that
+long drive would never end, and yet Dr. Abercrombie drove
+good horses. It seemed hours before they reached Mortimer
+Street, and the strain on his nerves made him look so ghastly
+as he went into the house to prepare Mrs. Blake, that she
+uttered a shriek as soon as she saw his face.</p>
+
+<p>'You have come to tell me my boy is dead!' she exclaimed,
+catching hold of him.</p>
+
+<p>'No, he is not dead; but he is badly hurt, Abercrombie
+says. Let me go, Mrs. Blake; they want my help to carry him
+in. Is there a room ready? Mollie, look after your mother;'
+and Michael sped on his sad errand.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not let anyone in, Burnett, while I examine him.
+Lock the door;' and Michael obeyed the doctor's orders,
+though an agonised voice outside entreated admittance.</p>
+
+<p>Michael thought the doctor's examination would never
+end; but by and by he came up to Michael and drew him
+aside.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you wish another opinion, Burnett?' he asked abruptly;
+'but it is kinder to tell you that the thing is hopeless.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good heavens, Abercrombie! Do you mean he will not
+live?'</p>
+
+<p>'Only a few hours&mdash;he is hurt internally. They were both
+down on the rails, you know: I saw the whole thing; and he
+flung up the old man with one hand&mdash;I never saw anything so
+splendidly done&mdash;but the wheel of the engine caught him,
+and before they could stop the train the mischief was done.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will he suffer? Can nothing be done for him? Abercrombie,
+I would give half my fortune to save the life of that
+man.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will not suffer long,' returned Dr. Abercrombie kindly.
+He was a rough, hard-featured Scotchman, but no man had a
+better heart, as Michael knew. 'I will do all I can for him,
+Burnett, for his own sake as well as yours. I think he wants
+to speak to you, but he cannot talk much; it is agony to
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>And Michael stepped up to the bed. In the emergency he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">{425}</a></span>
+had regained his old calmness of manner, and as Cyril's eyes
+were fixed on his face, he bent over him and said gently:</p>
+
+<p>'Do not speak, my dear fellow; I know what you wish to
+say. I will telegraph for her at once.'</p>
+
+<p>Cyril's damp, cold hand closed over his.</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks, thanks! that is what I wanted. She would like
+it, and it will do no harm.'</p>
+
+<p>The last few words seemed intended for a question, and
+Michael answered without hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>'Harm! she would never forgive us if we did not send for
+her.'</p>
+
+<p>Then a faint light came into Cyril's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope for her sake I shall not suffer; but it will soon
+be over: I heard him say so.' He seemed to speak with
+difficulty. 'Don't look so sorry about it, Burnett; it is much
+better so, and the poor old man was saved. Oh!'</p>
+
+<p>That expression of pain wrung unwillingly from his lips
+drew the doctor to him, and he made a sign to Michael to leave
+them.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later Audrey received the following telegram:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'An accident. Cyril Blake badly hurt. Condition critical.
+Come at once. Will meet the last train at King's Cross.'</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">{426}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI</h2>
+
+<h3>'INASMUCH'</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'He, being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled a long time.'&mdash;<span class="smcap">Wisdom
+of Solomon.</span></p></div>
+
+
+<p>All her life long Audrey never forgot that long weary journey.
+The lateness of the hour compelled her to take a circuitous
+route to London. Dr. Ross accompanied her part of the way,
+and did not leave her until he placed her under the care of the
+guard, who promised to keep the compartment for her.</p>
+
+<p>'You will be all right now, Audrey,' he said, with a poor
+attempt at cheerfulness. 'I have tipped the guard half-a-crown&mdash;a
+piece of extravagance on my part, I believe, as you
+only stop once between this and King's Cross, and Michael will
+meet you at the other end. God bless you, my child!' he
+continued, with deeper feeling, as the train began to move.
+'Give my love to Cyril, and try and trust him to his Heavenly
+Father.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will try, dear father,' was Audrey's answer.</p>
+
+<p>And then she leant back on her seat and attempted to pray;
+but she only found herself repeating over and over again the
+same petition&mdash;that she might be in time; for Michael's
+message, so carefully worded, had read to her like Cyril's death-warrant.
+'He will die,' she had said with tearless eyes to her
+father, as she had carried him the telegram.</p>
+
+<p>It was eleven o'clock before she reached King's Cross; but
+before the train stopped she could see Michael standing
+alone under a gas-lamp, and before he discerned her she was
+beside him.</p>
+
+<p>'Am I in time, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>Then he started, and drew her hand through his arm.</p>
+
+<p>'Quite in time, dear; he has still a few hours to live.'</p>
+
+<p>For he saw at once that she was prepared for the worst.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">{427}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'That is well,' she replied calmly; 'let us go.'</p>
+
+<p>And then Michael handed her into the hansom.</p>
+
+<p>How pale she was, he thought, and how sad those dear gray
+eyes looked, as she turned to him and asked that question that
+he so dreaded to hear!</p>
+
+<p>'We are out of the station now, and I can hear better.
+What was the accident, Michael? How did it all happen?
+Tell me everything, please.'</p>
+
+<p>Then, as far as he was able, he told her all, and she heard
+him very quietly, though once he felt the shudder that passed
+through her when she first understood the nature of the terrible
+thing that had happened.</p>
+
+<p>'Abercrombie saw it all from the first,' he went on; 'he
+said he never saw anything so splendidly done. Not a man in
+a thousand would have ventured it. What did I tell you,
+Audrey?&mdash;that Blake was just the fellow to win the Victoria
+Cross.'</p>
+
+<p>'He was very brave,' she murmured; but she trembled all
+over as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'He was more than brave. What was my action in Zululand
+compared to his? He stepped into the jaws of death
+quietly, and with his eyes opened, for he must have known
+that two could not have been saved. He has given his noble
+life for a wretched worthless one. It sounds inhuman to say
+it, but who would have mourned if that poor old man had
+been swept away? Would it not have been better if he
+had left him to his fate?'</p>
+
+<p>'You must not say that!' returned Audrey. And now the
+tears were running down her face. 'It is this that makes it so
+noble, so Christ-like&mdash;a life laid down out of love and pity for
+the worthless. My brave Cyril! Who is more fit to go than
+he? Ah, I knew him so well; he is very reserved; he is not
+one to speak of religion&mdash;very few young men do; he never
+liked to do so; but in a simple, manly way he has tried to live
+it. I always knew he was good. Yes, Michael, it was better
+for him to give up his fresh young life than for that old man to
+die in his sins.'</p>
+
+<p>He could not steady his voice to answer her. Would any
+other girl have taken it in this way? He felt there were
+depths in her nature that he had not fathomed yet. The
+nobleness of the action seemed to lift her up out of her grief.
+The heroic death was a fit ending to that brave life, short as it
+was.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">{428}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There were a few minutes' silence, during which she wept
+quietly, and then she roused herself to ask after Mrs. Blake.
+A deeper shade passed over Michael's face as she put the question.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor soul!' he returned in a grieved voice; 'I fear it will
+go very hardly with her. Abercrombie tried to say a word to
+her about her son's hopeless condition, but she dropped at his
+feet like a dead thing. I had to leave him with her, and go
+back to poor Blake, as he was asking for her. I am afraid
+Abercrombie had to be very stern with her, for by and by
+she crept in quietly enough, and sat down beside him. When I
+left he was talking to her, but I do not believe that she understood
+a word that he said; she looks as though she has been
+turned to stone.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey sighed, and a moment afterwards she said a little
+wearily:</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, how slowly we are going! Shall we ever be there?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Michael took her hand gently in his; she was so
+patient, so good: if only he could comfort her!</p>
+
+<p>'We have a very fast horse, and a capital driver. Yes, we
+shall be there soon now. Your journey must have tired you,
+dear. I wish someone could have come with you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Father wanted to do so, but I told him I would rather be
+alone. Never mind about me, Michael; what does it matter
+if I am tired or not? If I could only be with him! but the
+time is passing so!' Then, as she saw the pained look on
+Michael's face, she said in a low voice: 'Don't be too sorry for
+me; it is hard&mdash;very hard&mdash;but we must only think of him;'
+and then she did not speak again until the hansom stopped.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie was on the watch, for the door opened before they
+had alighted; but as she flung her arms round Audrey with a
+tearful welcome, the latter gently disengaged herself.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not keep me, dear Mollie; let me go to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you shall go to him, dear Miss Ross; he is a little
+better just now; at least, he does not suffer so much. I wish
+mamma could speak to him, but she only sits there sighing as
+though her heart would break, and it must be so sad for Cyril
+to hear it. That is the door; you can go in;' and Audrey
+needed no more.</p>
+
+<p>A tall, gray-haired man stood aside to let her pass, but it
+may be doubted whether she even saw him, any more than she
+noticed that rigid figure at the foot of the bed. Audrey saw
+nothing but that death-like face on the pillow, and the glad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">{429}</a></span>
+light in Cyril's eyes, as she went straight to him, and kneeling
+down beside him, kissed his lips.</p>
+
+<p>'My poor Cyril! My poor, dear Cyril!' she said in a
+voice that was heavenly in its sweetness to him.</p>
+
+<p>'No, not poor now,' he whispered, as he moved his head
+until it rested on her breast. 'My darling, it is worth even
+this to see you again. If you could only know what these five
+months have been to me!'</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in a voice so low and feeble that only she could
+hear him. Mrs. Blake did not move as Audrey entered; her
+eyes were fixed on her boy's face. They seemed the only
+living things about her. From time to time, even in his awful
+suffering, he had struggled to say a word to her, but she had
+scarcely answered him, though now and then a low moan issued
+from her lips.</p>
+
+<p>'I could not have borne it much longer,' he went on, as in
+her mute sympathy Audrey rested her face against his cold,
+damp forehead; 'the life was killing me. How was a man
+to live without hope? And I had no hope.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should always have loved you,' she said simply.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my own faithful one; but even your love, precious as
+it was, could not have consoled me for the unnatural loneliness
+that was my lot. The very knowledge that you were mine and
+that I could never claim you seemed to add a deep bitterness
+to my grief. Do not let us speak of that dreary time, my
+darling; it is gone now, and it is come to this: that I thank
+God that I lie here with only a few hours to live.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Cyril! for your mother's sake, do not say this!'</p>
+
+<p>'She does not hear us,' he replied; 'she seems to take no
+notice of anything. Poor, dear mother! I am sorry for
+her!'</p>
+
+<p>'And not for me!' Audrey's unselfishness could not refrain
+from that low cry.</p>
+
+<p>'No, not for you,' he returned tenderly. 'It is better, far
+better, for you, my darling, that things are ending thus. Why
+should you have wasted your sweet life for me, Audrey? I
+could not have borne the sacrifice. In a little while I should
+have written to you, and begged you to give me up.'</p>
+
+<p>'There would have been no use in writing such a letter.'</p>
+
+<p>Then he smiled happily, as though even on his dying bed it
+gave him pleasure to hear that.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril, you must not talk; Michael says it hurts you.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, not quite so much now; somehow the pain seems<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">{430}</a></span>
+easier, and it is such a relief to say all this. Does it make you
+unhappy, darling?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not if it gives you comfort; you may say anything&mdash;anything&mdash;to
+me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I only wanted to tell you that it is all right. I am glad
+I did it. I have not done much for Him all my life,' dropping
+his voice reverently, and she knew what he meant. '"Inasmuch"&mdash;how
+does that go on, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>Then she softly repeated the words:</p>
+
+<p>'"Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these, My
+brethren, ye have done it unto <i>Me</i>."'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, He did more than that for us. What was a moment's
+pain compared with His? Audrey, do you think someone
+could say a prayer?'</p>
+
+<p>Then Audrey suggested that they should send for Michael,
+and he came at once.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril listened with his eyes closed; but his lips moved, and
+Audrey's hand was in his all the time. He seemed a little
+exhausted after this, and Dr. Abercrombie gave him some
+restorative.</p>
+
+<p>Michael did not leave the room for long after this. He
+came in from time to time to see if he were wanted. But there
+was very little for anyone to do. The flame of life was flickering
+to its close, and the practised eye of the physician knew that
+in another hour or two all would be over.</p>
+
+<p>'You can go in,' he said to Mollie; 'nothing makes any
+difference now.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Mollie crept to her brother's side.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril lay very quiet; but by and by he roused himself to
+send a message to Kester. And then he spoke of his father.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you give him my love?' he said. 'I wanted to see
+more of him. I think if I had only known him better I could
+have loved him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I will tell him this, dear Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you.'</p>
+
+<p>And then he closed his eyes again. And as Audrey bent
+over him, it seemed to her as though his face were almost
+perfect in that stillness. Presently he asked his mother to
+come closer, and she at once obeyed him.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother,' he said pleadingly, 'you will try to give me up?'</p>
+
+<p>But she made a gesture of dissent.</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot; I cannot, Cyril! I do not believe I can live
+without you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">{431}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You have Mollie and Kester,' he panted, for her suppressed
+agitation evidently disturbed him. 'Mother, I know what we
+have been to each other.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she fell on her knees with a bitter cry.</p>
+
+<p>'Cyril, it is all my fault that you are lying there. Your
+mother has killed you. It would not have happened but for
+me. My boy! my boy! I cannot, I will not live, without you!'</p>
+
+<p>'Mother.'</p>
+
+<p>But Michael saw he could bear no more, and at a sign from
+the doctor he raised the unhappy woman and led her from the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>'It is too much for them both,' he said to Biddy; 'neither
+of them can bear it.'</p>
+
+<p>And then he saw the old woman take her mistress in her
+arms and cry over her like a child.</p>
+
+<p>'Biddy, I shall die too. You will bury me in my boy's
+grave&mdash;my boy and me together.'</p>
+
+<p>But Michael heard no more. He went back to the room
+just as Cyril was asking for him.</p>
+
+<p>'Burnett, will you say good-bye?' he gasped. 'I think it
+will not be long now, and I have said good-bye to Mollie.
+Oh! this pain, doctor&mdash;it has come back again. Can you do
+anything for me?'</p>
+
+<p>But Dr. Abercrombie shook his head sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind, then; it must be borne. Burnett, God bless
+you for all you have done! You will be good to her, I know'&mdash;with
+a glance at his betrothed.</p>
+
+<p>'I will,' returned Michael Burnett.</p>
+
+<p>And then the two men grasped hands.</p>
+
+<p>Cyril hardly spoke after this&mdash;his pain was too intense.
+But once Audrey saw his eyes rest on her ring. 'It is still
+there,' she heard him murmur. And another time he made
+signs that she should lay his head on her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>'I want to die so,' he whispered. And a little later he
+asked her to kiss him again.</p>
+
+<p>He lay so quiet now that they thought he was going, and
+Michael knelt down by the bed and offered up the commendatory
+prayer. But once more the dark eyes opened: there was
+a strange, unearthly light in them.</p>
+
+<p>'Inasmuch,' he said; 'Inasmuch&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>His head fell back a little heavily, and the soul of Cyril
+Blake was with its God.</p>
+
+<p class="thoughtbreak">******</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">{432}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'He does not suffer now,' were Audrey's first words, as she
+laid him gently down and gave her last solemn kiss. When
+Michael put his arm round her and led her gently away, she
+offered no resistance.</p>
+
+<p>'I must leave you for a little while, dear,' he said, as he
+stood beside her a moment; 'but I will send Mollie to
+you.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she begged that she might be left alone.</p>
+
+<p>'Her mother will want her; and I would rather, much
+rather, be alone.'</p>
+
+<p>Then, when Michael had gone, she laid her head down on
+Cyril's writing-table, and the tears had their way. Until now
+she had not thought of herself; but now it seemed to her as
+though the world had grown suddenly cold and dark. He had
+loved her&mdash;oh, how well he had loved her!&mdash;and now the Divine
+will had taken him from her!</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey wept less for herself than for that bright young
+life cut off so mysteriously in its early bloom, before its youthful
+promise had come to maturity. But as her tears flowed, certain
+words she had often read recurred to her mind, and comforted
+her:</p>
+
+<p>'For honourable age is not that which standeth in length of
+time, nor that is measured by number of years.</p>
+
+<p>'But wisdom is the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted
+life is old age.</p>
+
+<p class="thoughtbreak">******</p>
+
+<p>'For his soul pleased the Lord: therefore hasted He to take
+him away from the wicked.'</p>
+
+<p>Certainly there was no bitterness in Audrey's grief when,
+a few hours later, she stood with Michael beside that still
+form. How beautiful her Cyril looked! she thought; and even
+Michael marvelled as he gazed at him. He lay there like a
+young knight who had fallen in his maiden fight, and who in
+death was still a conqueror. The living man who stood there
+could almost have envied him, he was so worn and jaded with
+the battle of life.</p>
+
+<p>'How peacefully he sleeps!' he said, in a moved voice; 'he
+looks as though he were dreaming happily, Audrey. Surely it
+will comfort his mother to see him like this!'</p>
+
+<p>'She will not see him yet; Biddy says she is too ill. We
+must give her time to recover herself&mdash;the blow has been so
+awfully sudden. Yes, he looks happy; my darling sleeps well.
+Did you hear what he said, Michael?&mdash;that he was glad that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">{433}</a></span>
+he lay there; that it was all as it should be? If ever a man
+yielded his life willingly, Cyril did!'</p>
+
+<p>'His life was so hard, you see.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but he would have given it all the same if his
+happiness had been perfect. He would not have stood by and
+seen even a beggar perish, he was so generous. You would have
+done it yourself, Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know,' he returned with a shudder; 'I would
+not answer for myself: it was such an awful death!'</p>
+
+<p>'But I can answer for you,' she replied calmly: 'you would
+have done it if he had not been beforehand.'</p>
+
+<p>And then she moved away from him, and began to arrange
+the few flowers that the people of the house had sent up to
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Michael waited until she had finished. She was exhausted
+and weary, he knew, and he was anxious to take her to South
+Audley Street, where her mother would be awaiting them.
+Michael had telegraphed to her earlier in the day, and the
+answer had come that she was already on her way.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey made an attempt to see Mrs. Blake before she left,
+but Biddy would not admit her.</p>
+
+<p>'It will drive my mistress crazy to see anyone,' she said.
+'She has quieted down a bit, and the doctor has given me some
+stuff to make her sleep; and his orders were that I was to keep
+her as still as possible.' And after this Audrey dared not
+persist.</p>
+
+<p>But it grieved her to leave poor Mollie in that desolate
+house, the girl seemed so utterly alone; but Michael said he
+had spoken to the woman of the house, and that she had
+promised to look after her.</p>
+
+<p>'We ought not to take her with us, dear Audrey,' he said
+gently, but firmly; 'it is her duty to stay with her mother.'
+And Audrey acquiesced a little reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross cried abundantly as she took Audrey in her arms;
+her motherly soul was filled with pity for her girl. But Audrey
+had no more tears to shed.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother,' she said pleadingly, when, after the late evening
+meal, Michael had retired and left them alone together&mdash;'mother,
+I must wear mourning for Cyril. I hope father will
+not mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'You shall do as you like, my love,' returned her mother
+sadly. 'Your father will not object to anything you wish to
+do. You know we all loved dear Cyril.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">{434}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes, mother; and you were always so good to him.
+Towards the last he mentioned you and father: "Give my love
+to them both." Michael heard him say it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Geraldine is as unhappy as possible. She drove with me
+to the station. She begged me over and over again to say how
+grieved she was for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor dear Gage is always so kind!' replied Audrey
+calmly. 'Mother dear, should you mind my going to bed
+now? My head aches so, and I am so tired!'</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Ross attended her daughter to her room, and
+did not leave her until her weary head was on the pillow.</p>
+
+<p>'I should like to stay,' she said, looking at her child with
+yearning eyes; 'but I suppose you would rather be alone.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, mother dear;' and then she drew her mother's face
+down to hers and kissed it tenderly. 'Dearest, you are so good
+to me, and so is Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who could help being good to you, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but you must not be too kind to me. One must not
+let one's unhappiness spoil other people's lives. I want to be
+as brave as he was. Will you draw up the blind, mother
+dear? It is such a beautiful moonlight night.' And, as Mrs.
+Ross did as she was asked, Audrey raised herself upon her
+elbow. 'Oh, how calm and lovely it looks! Even the housetops
+are transfigured and glorified. Oh, mother, it is all as it
+should be! Cyril said so; and he is safe in his Father's house&mdash;in
+his Father's and mine!' she half whispered to herself, as
+she sank back on the pillow again.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">{435}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII</h2>
+
+<h3>A STRANGE EXPIATION</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'When some beloved voice that was to you</div>
+<div class="verse">Both sound and sweetness faileth suddenly,</div>
+<div class="verse">And silence against which you dare not cry</div>
+<div class="verse">Aches round you like a strong disease and new,</div>
+<div class="verse">What hope? what help?...</div>
+<div class="vind6">...Nay, none of these.</div>
+<div class="verse">Speak, Thou availing Christ! and fill this pause.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Browning.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross soon discovered that Audrey wished to remain in
+town until the funeral was over, and she at once wrote off to
+her husband for the required permission.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Ross made no objection; he meant to be present himself
+at the funeral, and as he had some important business that
+would detain him another day or so in London, he suggested
+that they should accompany him back to Woodcote.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey seemed satisfied when she had read her father's
+letter. He had sent her a message that touched her greatly.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope our child will not grieve over-much,' he wrote. 'Tell
+her that her father sympathises with her most fully. By and
+by she will read the meaning of this painful lesson. As for
+poor Cyril, one can only long to change places with him. His
+was a short and fiery trial, but at least he was spared the
+burden and heat of the day. When one thinks of his blameless
+youth, and the manly endurance with which he met and faced
+his trouble, one can only be thankful that he has been taken
+out of a life that would have been only one long struggle and
+disappointment, and has entered so early into his rest.'</p>
+
+<p>'Father is right,' murmured Audrey, as she read this.
+'Every morning I wake I thank God that he has ceased to
+suffer.'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey went every day to see Mollie, and to spend a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">{436}</a></span>
+minutes by Cyril's coffin. She went with Michael to Highgate
+to choose his last resting-place, and no other hands but hers
+arranged the flowers that decked the chamber of death. Mrs.
+Blake remained in her own room, and refused to see anyone.
+Biddy's account of her mistress was very unsatisfactory.</p>
+
+<p>'She does not sleep unless I give her the doctor's soothing
+stuff,' she confessed one day, when Audrey questioned her very
+closely, 'and sometimes I cannot coax her to take it. "I don't
+want to sleep, Biddy," that is all her cry. "If I sleep I must
+wake, and the waking is too terrible." Unless Blessed Mary
+and the saints help my mistress,' continued Biddy, wiping the
+tears from her withered cheeks, 'I think she will go out of her
+mind. She spends half the night in that room. Early this
+morning I missed her, and found her lying in a dead faint beside
+the coffin. She does not eat, and I never see her shed a tear.
+She sits rocking herself and moaning as though she were in pain,
+and then she starts up and walks the room till it turns one
+giddy to see her. I dare not leave her a moment. If she
+would only see a doctor! but, poor soul, she will do nothing
+now to please her old Biddy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I must see her,' exclaimed Audrey, horrified at this description
+of wild, unchastened grief. 'Biddy, will you take this
+note to her?' and Biddy, nothing loath, carried off the slip of
+paper.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had only pencilled a few words:</p>
+
+<p>'My poor friend, let me come to you; ours is the same
+sorrow. For Cyril's sake, do not refuse me.'</p>
+
+<p>But Biddy came back the next moment shaking her head
+very sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>'I can do nought with her,' she said hastily. 'She sends her
+love, Miss Ross, but she will see no one&mdash;no one. I have done
+the best I can for you, but I dare not anger her,' finished the
+old woman, moving sadly away. 'Why, she has not seen
+Master Kester, though he came to her door last night! We
+must leave her alone until she comes round to her right mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think she will be at the funeral?' Michael asked
+more than once; but no one was able to answer this question.</p>
+
+<p>But when the day came she was there, closely veiled, so that
+no one could see her face, and as she walked to the grave,
+between Kester and Mollie, her step seemed as firm as ever.
+Michael had written to Matthew O'Brien the particulars of his
+son's death, and had told him that a place would be reserved
+for him among the mourners; but to this there was no reply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">{437}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Just as the service began in the chapel, however, a tall man
+with a gray moustache slipped into the seat behind Kester.
+When the sad procession filed out into the cemetery, Audrey and
+Michael drew back to let him pass, but he made signs for them
+to precede him. But at the end, as they all crowded round the
+open grave to take their last look at the flower-decked coffin,
+Mat O'Brien stood for a moment by his wife's side. Audrey
+said afterwards that she was sure Mrs. Blake saw him; she
+started slightly, but took no further notice. The tears were
+streaming down Mat's face, and Mollie, with girlish sympathy,
+had slipped her hand through his arm; but the mother stood
+in stony impassiveness beside them, until Kester whispered
+something to her and led her away. The rest of the mourners
+had dispersed, but Audrey stood there still, looking thoughtfully
+down into the grave. Dr. Ross and his wife had followed the
+others, but Michael had kept his place beside Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'I think they are waiting for us, dear,' he said at last, as
+though to rouse her.</p>
+
+<p>Then she turned her face to him.</p>
+
+<p>'I like being here,' she replied simply; 'and yet it is not
+pain to leave him lying there. Michael, I feel like Christian.
+Do you remember how his burden rolled off into an open grave?
+Somehow, mine has rolled off, too.'</p>
+
+<p>'You mean that you are happy about him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. It is so sweet to think that he will never suffer any
+more. Oh, Michael, it has been such a burden! I never seemed
+to have a moment's peace or comfort. Every night I used to
+think, "How has he passed to-day? Has it been very bad
+with him?" And sometimes the thought of all he was bearing
+seemed to weigh me to the earth.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you never spoke of this to anyone&mdash;you bore all this
+by yourself?'</p>
+
+<p>'It was no use to speak. No one could help me. It was
+his pain, not mine. Now it will be different. He is safe and
+happy, and as for me, I must try to live now for other people.'</p>
+
+<p>And then, with a smile that touched him to the heart, she
+stepped back from the grave and told him that she was ready.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow, Michael felt comforted by those few words. His
+intuition and knowledge of Audrey's character gave him hope
+that after a time she would recover her old elasticity. 'Until
+now,' he said to himself, 'she has so fully identified herself
+with him, that she has simply had no life of her own. Her
+sympathetic nature has reflected only his thoughts and feelings.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">{438}</a></span>
+I doubt whether she has ever questioned herself as to her love
+for him; she has taken everything for granted. And now she
+has lost him, the thought of his happiness seems to swallow
+up all thought of her own grief. Such unselfishness will bring
+its own healing.' And in this way Michael comforted himself
+about her.</p>
+
+<p>That evening Audrey received a message that surprised her
+greatly. Kester brought it. His mother would see her the
+next day; someone had told her that Audrey was going back
+to Woodcote, and she had at once expressed a wish that she
+should not leave without bidding her good-bye.</p>
+
+<p>'Tell her that I can speak now, and that I have much to
+say to her.' And the strangeness of this message filled Audrey
+with perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>Michael took her to Kensington the next day. He had to
+fetch Kester; the boy was going back to Brighton: there was
+no good in his lingering in London. His mother took no
+pleasure in his society; his overtures to his father had made a
+breach between them, and she had treated him with silent
+displeasure.</p>
+
+<p>But he told Michael, as they drove to the station, that she
+had been kinder in her manner to him that morning than she
+had been for months.</p>
+
+<p>'She kissed me more than once, and held my hand as though
+she did not like bidding me good bye. She looks awfully ill,'
+continued the boy, with a choke in his voice; 'and when I
+asked her to be good to Mollie, she said quite gently that she
+had been a bad mother to us both; that she had not considered
+us enough, and that God was punishing her for it. I begged
+her not to say it, but she repeated it again. "You and Mollie
+will be better without me," she went on. Oh, Captain Burnett!
+do you think she will die? I never saw anyone look quite so
+bad,' persisted Kester sadly.</p>
+
+<p>Biddy took Audrey up at once to her mistress's room.</p>
+
+<p>'You will find her better,' she said shortly; 'the dumb
+spirit is cast out of her. That is the blessed saints' doing. I
+knew my mistress would come to her senses&mdash;Heaven be praised
+for it!'</p>
+
+<p>The room was somewhat dark, and it was not until Audrey
+was quite close to Mrs. Blake that she noticed the change in
+her that had so shocked Kester.</p>
+
+<p>The blackness of the plain stuff gown, unrelieved by any
+whiteness, may have made the contrast of her pale face more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">{439}</a></span>
+striking; but Audrey noticed that her dark hair was now
+streaked with gray. She had drawn it back from her face and
+coiled it tightly behind, as though her own appearance had ceased
+to interest her, and the sunken eyes and a certain sharp look
+about the cheekbones made her seem at least ten years older.</p>
+
+<p>With a pity amounting to tenderness, Audrey would have
+put her arms round her; but Mrs. Blake drew back, and only
+suffered her to kiss her cheek.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Mrs. Blake&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But she interrupted her.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not call me that again,' she said hastily. 'There has
+been enough of deception and lies; my name is Olive O'Brien.
+As long as I remain in the world I wish to be called by that
+name.'</p>
+
+<p>Then Audrey gazed at her in speechless consternation.
+What could this strange speech portend?</p>
+
+<p>'Will you sit down?' she continued, at the same time
+seating herself in a high-backed chair that stood beside her bed.</p>
+
+<p>A crucifix lay on a little table beside her, with a framed
+photograph of Cyril that she always carried about with her.
+From time to time she looked at them as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'Biddy told me that you were going back to Rutherford,
+and I could not let you go without bidding you good-bye.'</p>
+
+<p>'It would have made me very unhappy if you had not
+allowed me to see you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot believe that; but of course you mean it for the
+truth: that is why my boy loved you, because you are so
+absolutely true.' Her voice sank into a whisper, and a
+gloomy light came into her eyes. 'That is why his mother
+disappointed him, why he lost all trust in her, because falsehood
+was easier to her than truth.'</p>
+
+<p>'But not now, dear Mrs. Blake; nay, I must call you by
+the old name. And what does it matter between us two if
+you have sinned? If your wrong-doing seems a heavy burden,
+you can at least repent.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have repented,' she said, in a voice so strange and
+thrilling that Audrey felt inwardly troubled. 'In the hours
+of darkness by my boy's coffin I have humbled myself before
+my Maker, I have craved to expiate my sin. Audrey, listen
+to me,' she continued; 'I have sent for you because you loved
+my Cyril, because for a few months you made him happy.
+He was my idol, and that is why he has been taken from me&mdash;because
+I forgot God and truth, and sinned for his sake.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">{440}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but you are sorry now.'</p>
+
+<p>'What does such sorrow avail, except for my own purging?
+In a little while the world&mdash;this cruel, hard, outer world&mdash;will
+know me no more. I am going back to Ireland with
+Mollie and Biddy, and when I have made my peace with the
+Church I shall enter a convent.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good heavens! what can you mean?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have always been at heart a Catholic,' she returned in
+a mechanical tone; 'but while my boy lived I was content
+that his Church should be mine. All my life I have had a
+leaning to the older faith; now in my desolation I mean to
+shelter in the bosom of our Holy Mother the Church. She
+receives all penitents; she will not refuse me.'</p>
+
+<p>'But your children&mdash;Mollie: would you forsake Mollie?'
+pleaded Audrey, with tears in her eyes. 'Would you neglect
+your sacred responsibilities for duties no one would demand of
+a mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'Am I fit to discharge my responsibilities?' she returned
+in a cold, hard voice. 'Has anyone but Cyril ever kept me
+straight? Do you think Mollie and I could go on living the
+same old life without him? Audrey, you do not know what
+you say; such an existence would rob me of my reason.'</p>
+
+<p>'But what will become of Mollie?' asked Audrey, concealing
+her alarm at this wild speech. 'You must not only
+think of yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie will go with me,' she returned. 'I shall not
+forsake her. The convent that I propose to enter has a home
+attached to it, where they educate girls belonging to the upper
+classes. Mollie will have plenty of companions. The nuns
+are kind women, and they will not coerce her in any way, and
+there will be sufficient for her maintenance.'</p>
+
+<p>'But when she grows up&mdash;when her education is finished:
+what will become of her then?'</p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Blake did not seem clear on this point. The
+convent had its boarders, she remarked; with the superior's
+permission, Mollie might still remain there, and lead a tolerably
+happy life.</p>
+
+<p>'There will be other young ladies; she will not be dull,'
+she went on. 'The rule is a strict one&mdash;that is why I chose
+it&mdash;but I should be allowed to see her sometimes; perhaps
+she too may turn Catholic, and then all will be well.'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey's honest nature revolted against this merciless
+arrangement. She saw clearly that Mrs. Blake's weak,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">{441}</a></span>
+excitable nature had been under some strong influence, though
+it was not until later that she heard that during the last few
+months she had secretly attended a Roman Catholic chapel
+near them. Doubtless Biddy, who was a stanch Romanist,
+had connived at this.</p>
+
+<p>And now she had planned this strange expiation for herself,
+and poor Mollie must be sacrificed. What would Cyril have
+thought of such an unnatural arrangement? For Cyril's sake,
+for Mollie's, Audrey felt she must combat this notion.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs. Blake,' she said very earnestly, 'it is not for me to
+question your actions with regard to yourself. If you are at
+heart a Roman Catholic&mdash;if all these years you have been an
+unprofessed member of that Church&mdash;it may be as well for
+you to acknowledge it openly. I do not believe myself that a
+convent life is free from its trials and temptations. Human
+nature is the same everywhere, and even sanctified human
+nature is liable to error. Wiser people than myself would tell
+you that peace of mind would be more surely attained by
+remaining in the path of duty. Dear Mrs. Blake, forgive me
+if I pain you, but would'&mdash;she hesitated a moment&mdash;'would
+not Cyril have disapproved of his mother taking such a step?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think not,' was the response. 'My boy's eyes are
+purified now; he would judge differently. I shall devote the
+remainder of my life to praying for the repose of his soul, and
+in repentance for my miserable past; and it may be'&mdash;here
+she lifted her clasped hands, and a faint light came into her
+eyes&mdash;'that Heaven may release me from my misery before
+many years are over, and my purified soul may be allowed to
+find rest.'</p>
+
+<p>'God grant you may find it, poor, misguided woman!'
+was Audrey's secret prayer; but she merely said aloud:</p>
+
+<p>'We must live out our life as long as the Divine will
+ordains; but, Mrs. Blake, I must speak of Mollie. If you
+will sacrifice yourself, you have no right to sacrifice her. For
+Cyril's sake, let me have her!'</p>
+
+<p>'You, Audrey!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I. Have we not been like sisters all these months?
+I think Cyril would love to know she was with me; he was
+so fond of Mollie. He liked to see us together. It will make
+me happier to have her; when Michael is away I have no
+companion.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you really mean it?' asked Mrs. Blake, in an astonished
+voice. 'You are very good, Audrey, but you are not your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">{442}</a></span>
+own mistress. Dr. Ross would never consent to such an
+arrangement.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have my own money. No one would be put to any
+expense for Mollie, unless you wished to provide for her
+yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should certainly wish that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then in that case there will be no difficulty at all. I
+know my father too well to fear a refusal from him. I will
+go back to South Audley Street and speak to him and my
+mother, and to-morrow you shall know their answer; but you
+must promise me one thing before I go&mdash;that, if they consent,
+you will let me have Mollie.'</p>
+
+<p>'She will be happier with you than in the convent,' replied
+Mrs. Blake, in a musing tone. 'After all, it would have been
+a dull existence for her, poor child!' There was a touch of
+motherliness in her voice as she spoke. 'Yes, you shall have
+her. I think my boy would have wished it.'</p>
+
+<p>And Audrey's grateful kiss sealed the compact.</p>
+
+<p>'But there is something else I must say,' continued Mrs.
+Blake, when they had talked a little more about Mollie&mdash;at
+least, Audrey had talked. 'I want you to give Mat a
+message from me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr. O'Brien!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my husband. Have I not told you that I have
+humbled myself to the dust? Before I leave the world I
+would make my peace even with him. Will you give him
+my message?'</p>
+
+<p>'Assuredly I will.'</p>
+
+<p>'Tell him that I have repented at last, and that I would
+fain have his forgiveness&mdash;that I know now that I had no
+right to rob him of his children. If the time came over
+again&mdash;but no; how can I tell whether things would have
+been different? Mat would always have been Mat, and I
+could not alter my own nature. Oh, if I had only been
+good like you, Audrey!' she sighed bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>'You must not talk any more,' observed Audrey, alarmed
+by the look of utter exhaustion on the wan face. 'Shall I
+leave you now to rest a little?'</p>
+
+<p>'Rest?' Audrey never forgot the tone in which the unhappy
+woman uttered the word. 'How can one rest on such
+a pillow of thorns? No; the time is too short. I must be
+up and about my work. Will you bid me good-bye, now?
+After to-day we shall not meet again. You shall write to me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">{443}</a></span>
+about Mollie; but this interview has exhausted me, and I
+must husband my strength.'</p>
+
+<p>'If I could only comfort you!'</p>
+
+<p>The sad yearning in Audrey's voice seemed to touch Mrs.
+Blake, and as the girl clung to her she pressed her to her
+bosom.</p>
+
+<p>'God bless you for all your goodness to him and to me!
+Every day I live I shall pray for you.' Her voice broke; with
+a sudden impulse she kissed her again and again, then pushed
+her gently from her. 'Go, go!' she said faintly, 'and send
+Biddy to me.' And Audrey dared not linger.</p>
+
+<p>But she looked quite white and shaken when she rejoined
+Michael; she could scarcely speak to Mollie, and she seemed
+relieved when her cousin told her that his hansom was at the
+door. The soft autumnal breeze seemed to refresh her, and
+after a little while she was able to tell Michael all that had
+passed between her and Mrs. Blake. Michael took it very
+coolly; he seemed to have fully expected something of the kind.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor soul! she will always be true to herself,' he observed.
+'It is singular how these unbalanced, pleasure-loving natures
+lean towards asceticism&mdash;how rapidly they pass from one
+extreme to another. Even her repentance is not free from
+selfishness. She would free herself from her maternal
+responsibilities, as she freed herself from her marriage vows,
+under the mistaken notion of expiating a sinful past; and she
+will labour under the delusion that such an ill-conceived
+sacrifice will be pleasing to the Almighty.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; it is a great mistake,' she returned.</p>
+
+<p>'A very great mistake. The longer I live, Audrey,
+the more I marvel at the way people deceive themselves. The
+name of religion cloaks hidden selfishness to an extent you
+could hardly credit; the majority are too much engrossed in
+trying to save their own souls to care what becomes of other
+people. One would think it was "Save yourself, and the
+devil take the hindmost!" when one sees so-called Christians
+scurrying along the narrow way, as they call it, without a
+thought to the brother or sister who has fallen beside them.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is very grievous,' returned Audrey sadly. 'What would
+my poor Cyril have said to such an expiation? Michael, this
+interview with his mother has tried me more than anything. I
+think the hardest thing in life is when we see those we love
+turn down a wrong path, and when no entreaty will induce
+them to retrace their steps.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">{444}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'It is a sight one sees every day,' was Michael's reply; and
+then, as he saw how jaded and weary she was, he began to tell
+her about Kester, and after that they talked of Mollie. And
+when Audrey found that Michael approved of her plan, and was
+as anxious as she was herself that Mollie should accompany
+them to Woodcote, she began to discuss the subject with her
+old animation, and by the time the drive was over the harassed
+look had passed away from her face.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">{445}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>ON MICHAEL'S BENCH</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'What can I give thee back, O liberal</div>
+<div class="verse">And princely giver, who has brought the gold</div>
+<div class="verse">And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,</div>
+<div class="verse">And laid them out the outside of the wall,</div>
+<div class="verse">For such as I to take or leave withal,</div>
+<div class="verse">In unexpected largesse?'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Browning.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Dr. Ross and his wife listened very kindly to their daughter's
+project. Indeed, if Audrey had expressed a wish to establish a
+small colony of street Arabs at the end of the Woodcote
+garden, Mrs. Ross would have offered no objection to the
+scheme. Audrey could have ruled her mother as well as ever
+Geraldine had ruled her; but she was too generous to exert her
+influence. Her mother could have refused her nothing; from
+morning to night her one thought was how she might console
+her child.</p>
+
+<p>'Mollie will be such a companion for Audrey, John!' she
+suggested, when for one moment her husband had hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>'I was thinking about Matthew O'Brien,' he replied.
+'Brail is rather too near, and people will talk; it will leak out
+in time that O'Brien is Mollie's father.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will that matter?' interposed Michael; 'talk will not hurt
+anyone. I think I can answer for O'Brien: he is the last man
+to lay claim to his own child. His brother tells me that he is
+perfectly content if he sees her from time to time. Kester
+often writes to him, and he is never tired of reading his letters.
+Both Mollie and Kester have grown quite fond of him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think it should be kept quiet, for Mollie's sake,' returned
+Dr. Ross. 'In my judgment, Matthew O'Brien is a very unfit
+person to take care of a girl approaching womanhood. His
+brother is old, and he may outlive him. I do not wish to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">{446}</a></span>
+hard on him, but he seems to me a very irresponsible sort of
+person. When Mollie is of age she will, of course, judge for
+herself; but until then her friends will be wise not to give her
+up to her father's guardianship.'</p>
+
+<p>'He will never claim her,' replied Michael dryly. 'I will
+quote your own words: an irresponsible person is only too glad
+to evade responsibility. Mollie may live at Woodcote quite
+safely, and her visits to Brail will be taken as a matter of
+course. Of all people I know, the O'Briens are the least likely
+to chatter about their private concerns. Matthew O'Brien will
+be too thankful that his daughter should enjoy such privileges
+to wish to rob her of them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Father, it will make me so happy to have her!' whispered
+Audrey in her father's ear.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Doctor's eyes glistened with tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>'It shall be as you wish, my dear,' he said very gently:
+'Mollie shall come. Your mother is very fond of her, and so
+am I. You will have another daughter, Emmie,' he continued,
+looking at his wife with a kind smile. And so the matter was
+settled.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mollie was horrified when she heard what she had
+escaped. The idea of the convent was terrible to her.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, dear Miss Ross,' she exclaimed, 'how can mamma do
+anything so dreadful? She will be miserable&mdash;quite miserable.
+Of course she would not like living with only Biddy and me&mdash;she
+would have fretted herself ill. But to be a nun and say
+prayers all day long! Poor, poor mamma!' And Mollie's
+eyes grew round with misery.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Mollie, your mother thinks she knows best, and no
+one can control her. Perhaps, if she does not like it&mdash;if the life
+be too hard&mdash;she will come out at the end of her novitiate.'</p>
+
+<p>And this view of the case seemed to comfort Mollie a
+little.</p>
+
+<p>'And I am really to live at Woodcote&mdash;at that dear,
+beautiful place?' she continued. 'Oh, Miss Ross, it seems too
+good to be true!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; you are to be my little sister,' returned Audrey
+tranquilly. 'But, Mollie, I will not be called Miss Ross any
+longer. If you live with me, you must call me Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>And Mollie promised that she would.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie said very little about her parting interview with her
+mother; but she cried bitterly for hours afterwards. 'Poor,
+poor mamma! Oh, what would Cyril say!' she exclaimed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">{447}</a></span>
+over and over again. And it was a long time before anyone
+could comfort her.</p>
+
+<p>Michael went down with them to Woodcote, and remained
+with them for the next month or two. Cyril's sudden death
+had occurred the first week in October, and the trees in the
+Woodcote gardens were glorious in their autumnal livery of red
+and golden-brown, while every day careful hands swept up the
+fallen leaves from the shrubberies and paths. Michael resumed
+his old habits. When Audrey wanted him he was always
+ready to walk or drive with her. No one knew the effort it
+cost him to appear as usual, when every day his passion gained
+a stronger mastery over him. Dearly as he had loved her in
+her youthful brightness, he had never loved her as he did now,
+when he saw her in uncomplaining sadness fulfilling her daily
+duties and devoting herself to Mollie. Geraldine used to look
+at her with tears in her eyes. 'She is sweeter than ever. I
+never knew anyone so good,' she said to her husband; and Mr.
+Harcourt had assented to this very cordially. As for Mrs.
+Ross, before many weeks were over she had drawn down on her
+maternal head more than one reproof from her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother,' Audrey said to her one day, 'have you forgotten
+what I once told you&mdash;that you are not to be so kind to me?
+You are spoiling me dreadfully. You give me my way in
+everything; and when I say anything that I ought not to say,
+you do not contradict me. I am growing demoralised, and
+it is all your and Michael's fault if I get more selfish every
+day.'</p>
+
+<p>'You selfish, my darling?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, selfish and stupid, and as idle as possible; and yet you
+never scold me or ask me to do anything for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are always doing something, Audrey; you are busy
+from morning till night. Michael says you work far too hard.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I must work; it is my duty to work,' she returned, a
+little restlessly; 'and, mother, you must help, and not spoil
+me. When I see you and Gage looking at me with tears in
+your eyes, it troubles me to see them. I want you to be happy.
+I want everything to go on as usual, and I mean to be happy,
+too.'</p>
+
+<p>And then she went away and gave Mollie her music-lesson,
+and when it was over she went in search of Michael.</p>
+
+<p>Michael knew he was necessary to her&mdash;that in certain restless
+moods he was able to soothe her; so he stayed manfully at
+his post until after Christmas.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">{448}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But with the new year he resumed his Bohemian life,
+spending two or three weeks at South Audley Street, and then
+running down to Woodcote for a few days. He felt it was
+wiser to do so, and he could leave her more comfortably now.
+She was better in every way: she drooped less visibly, her
+smile became more frequent, and the constant society of Mollie
+and intercourse with her fresh girlish mind were evidently
+beneficial.</p>
+
+<p>She would do now without him, he told himself as he went
+back to his lodgings, and he need no longer put such a force on
+himself. 'Until I can speak, until the time has come for me
+to open my heart to her, it is better that we should be apart.'</p>
+
+<p>That Audrey held a different opinion was evident, and she
+could not always conceal her disappointment when Michael's
+brief visits became briefer and more infrequent.</p>
+
+<p>'It is all that troublesome money,' she said once, when one
+spring morning he stood waiting for the dog-cart to take him
+to the station. 'Of course, Woodcote does not content you
+now. You want a house of your own, and to be your own
+master. Well, it is perfectly natural,' she added quickly.</p>
+
+<p>'I have always been my own master,' he returned quietly;
+'and as for the house you are so fond of talking about, it seems
+still in the clouds as far as I am concerned. Neither have I
+once visited Wardour Street.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; you have been very slow about it,' she replied, smiling;
+'you were never in a hurry to possess your good things, Michael.
+I have often envied you your patience.'</p>
+
+<p>And then the mare trotted round the corner.</p>
+
+<p>'There is an old saying, that "all comes round to him who
+waits." Do you think that is true, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>He did not wait for her answer, as he climbed up into the
+driving-seat and took the reins; then he lifted his hat to her
+with rather a sad smile.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I have waited a long time, and it will not come yet.'
+And then he touched the mare a little smartly, and the next
+moment she was trotting briskly towards the gate.</p>
+
+<p>'Why had he looked so sad?' she wondered, as she went
+back to Mollie. He had not seemed like himself all the week,
+and now he had gone. 'If he only knew how much I want
+him, I think he would not go away so often,' she said to herself
+as she sat down to correct Mollie's French exercise.</p>
+
+<p>It was in the early days of June that Michael paid one of
+these flying visits to Rutherford, and as he drove through the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">{449}</a></span>
+green lanes, with the sweet summer breeze just stirring the
+leaves, he suddenly remembered that Cyril had lain in his
+quiet grave just eight months. He hardly knew why the
+thought had occurred to him, for he had been pondering a far
+different subject. 'Eight months! I had no idea that it had
+been so long,' he said to himself; 'time passes more quickly as
+one grows older. If I live to the end of the year I shall be
+nine-and-thirty. No wonder I feel a sober middle-aged man!'</p>
+
+<p>These reflections were hardly exhilarating, and he was glad
+when Woodcote was in sight.</p>
+
+<p>'You need not drive in, Fenton,' he said to the groom;
+'take the mare round to the stables, and I will walk up to the
+house.'</p>
+
+<p>The gardens of Woodcote looked lovelier than ever this
+afternoon, he thought, as he walked slowly up the terrace: the
+tender green of the foliage, the gay tints of lilacs and laburnums
+and pink and white horse chestnuts, made a gorgeous background.
+Here a guelder rose thrust its soft puffy balls almost in his face,
+while the white shimmering leaves of the maple contrasted
+superbly with the dark-veined leaves of the copper beech. Dr.
+Ross had always prided himself on his rare trees and shrubs,
+and, indeed, no other garden in Rutherford could compete with
+the grounds of Woodcote; the long lawn that stretched below
+the terrace was kept free from daisies, and was as smooth as
+velvet.</p>
+
+<p>Some lads were playing tennis there now, and a young lady
+in a gray dress was sitting under a clump of lilacs, watching
+them. For a moment Michael hesitated, thinking it was a
+stranger; but as she beckoned to him, a sudden gleam came
+into his eyes, and he hastily crossed the lawn.</p>
+
+<p>'I have been waiting for you; you are a little late, Michael,'
+she said, as he shook hands with her. 'Mollie has gone out
+with mother; I asked her to take my place.'</p>
+
+<p>But he stood looking at her, and there was a strangely
+pleased expression on his face.</p>
+
+<p>'I did not know you,' he said, in a low voice; 'I thought
+it was a strange young lady sitting on the bench. It was this,
+I suppose;' and he touched her gown as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey coloured. The remark evidently pained her.</p>
+
+<p>'I left off my black gown yesterday,' she replied hurriedly.
+'I found out that it troubled father, though he was too kind to
+tell me so. It was Gage who spoke to me; she said that it
+was a pity to wear it so long.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">{450}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I don't see that Gage had any right to speak to you. It
+was your affair, not hers.'</p>
+
+<p>There was a trace of sharpness in Michael's tone, and the
+light had faded out of his eyes. After all, there was no cause
+for him to rejoice; she had not left off her mourning of her
+own accord. What a fool he had been! Of course, she had
+only done it to please her father.</p>
+
+<p>'No; it was kind of her to speak; and, after all, what does
+it matter? Father seemed so relieved when I put on this, and
+I can remember Cyril without the help of a black gown. It is
+better to please other people than to please one's self, and after
+the first moment I did not mind. Those boys are so noisy,'
+she continued in her ordinary manner, as though she were not
+willing to discuss the subject more fully. 'Shall we go to
+"Michael's bench"? Booty is making for that direction, as
+usual, and the pond is so pretty this afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>'As you like,' he returned, a little moodily.</p>
+
+<p>Strange to say, this little episode of the dress had upset his
+equanimity, and he could not at once regain his old calmness.
+Had ever any gown become her so well? he wondered, with the
+exaggeration natural to a lover. She had a spray of laburnum
+in her hand, and the sunshine seemed to thread her brown hair
+with gold. It seemed to him as though there was a softer look
+in her gray eyes, as though his return were very welcome to her.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael,' she said suddenly, as they stood watching Eiderdown
+and Snowflake as they came sailing proudly up the pond
+in all the majesty of unruffled feathers, and Booty, as usual,
+pattered to the water's edge to bark at them until he was hoarse,
+'what is this that I hear about your going away? Father tells
+me that you have made all sorts of plans for yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'My money is burning a hole in my purse, you see,' he
+returned, picking up a dry twig from the ground, a proceeding
+that seemed to drive Booty frantic with excitement. 'I am
+beginning to realise my responsibility as a man of property;
+and as, of course, my first duty is to look after number one&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But she would not allow him to finish.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, will you come and sit down? How can we talk
+properly while you are picking up sticks for Booty?'</p>
+
+<p>Then he followed her to the bench, but, instead of seating
+himself, he leaned lazily against a baby-willow.</p>
+
+<p>'I am going abroad with Dick Abercrombie,' he said, as
+though he were mentioning an everyday occurrence. 'You
+know how often I have planned a tour in Switzerland and Italy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">{451}</a></span>
+but I have never been able to carry it out; and now I can
+combine duty and pleasure.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where does the duty lie, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>But she did not smile as she put the question, and it struck
+him that she looked a little dull.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, with Dick, of course,' he returned quickly. 'Don't
+you know, the poor fellow is terribly out of health; his father
+is very anxious about him. He has been over-working, and I
+fancy there is some sort of love-affair as well; at least, the
+Doctor hinted as much. Anyhow, he is to strike work for six
+months; and as he wanted a travelling companion, I offered
+my humble services.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you will not be away all that time?' she asked, with
+visible anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>'Six months is not so very long, is it?' he returned coolly;
+'and I do not see how we shall work out our plans even in that
+time. We are to do Switzerland thoroughly and to spend at
+least a month in the Engadine; then there are the Swiss Tyrol
+and the Italian lakes, and afterwards Rome, Florence, Venice,
+and Naples. If Dick tires of it and throws it up, I can still
+keep on alone. I want to do the thing properly for once in my
+life, and I have even thought of Greece and the Holy Land the
+following spring.'</p>
+
+<p>But again she interrupted him, and this time he saw the
+pained look in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'You will leave us for all that time&mdash;you will let him come
+back alone, and go on by yourself? Oh, Michael! what shall
+I do without you? You are more necessary to me than ever
+now.'</p>
+
+<p>She so seldom thought of herself that this speech took him
+by surprise. There was a tone of reproach in her voice, as
+though she thought him unkind for leaving her. Michael was
+not his ordinary calm self that afternoon. For months he had
+dreaded to find himself alone with her; but now the very
+sweetness of that loving reproach seemed too much for him.</p>
+
+<p>'A man is not always master of himself,' Cyril had once
+said; and at that moment Michael felt that it was no longer
+possible for him to be silent. He could bear it no more.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall stay away,' he said in a strangely-suppressed voice,
+'because it is only right for me to do so&mdash;because it is my
+duty to leave you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your duty to leave me,' she faltered. 'Oh, Michael, why?'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you wish me to tell you?' he said, looking at her fully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">{452}</a></span>
+as he stood opposite to her; and there was a gleam in the keen
+blue eyes that made her suddenly avert her face. 'Is it possible
+that all these years you have not known what you have been to
+me&mdash;that you have not guessed my love?'</p>
+
+<p>Then for the first time in her life she shrank from him.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean?' she said helplessly. 'We have always
+loved each other; you have been like my own brother, Michael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I can be your brother no longer,' he returned passionately;
+'from a child you have been far dearer to me. I never
+remember the time since I was a subaltern that I did not love
+you, and my love has grown every year.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean that you cared for me as Cyril cared?'</p>
+
+<p>But even as she asked the question he saw that her face was
+suffused with a burning blush.</p>
+
+<p>'I do mean it! From a child you have been the one woman
+in the world to me&mdash;the only one I wished to make my wife.'</p>
+
+<p>Then she covered her face with her hands, and he could see
+that she was trembling from head to foot.</p>
+
+<p>'It is too soon,' he heard her say; 'it is terribly soon;'
+and he knew the shock of this discovery was very great.</p>
+
+<p>'It is not too soon,' he said, sitting down beside her and
+trying to draw away her hands. 'Audrey, my dearest, I cannot
+bear this. You must not shrink from me so. Do not misunderstand
+me; I am asking you for nothing. Surely you are
+not afraid of me&mdash;of Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think I am afraid of you,' she whispered. 'Oh, Michael,
+if this be true! But I cannot&mdash;cannot believe it! Why have
+you never told me this before? Why have you let me&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>And then she stopped, as though a sob impeded her utterance.</p>
+
+<p>'I was never in a position to tell you so,' he returned, with
+his old gentleness. 'For years I doubted whether I should
+ever be well enough to marry. Do you think I would have
+condemned my wife, even if I could have won her, to a life of
+nursing? I was far too proud to demand such a sacrifice of
+any woman. And then I was a poor man, Audrey.'</p>
+
+<p>'What did that matter?' she replied, with a touch of scorn
+in her voice; 'Cyril was poor too.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must not think I blame him, if I say we were very
+different men. I was prouder than he, and I knew your
+generous nature too well to take advantage of it. When the
+money came it was too late: you were engaged to him. I had
+only to hide my pain, so that you should not be made unhappy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">{453}</a></span>
+by it. I thought I was a bad actor; but you never guessed
+my secret&mdash;you would not have guessed it now.'</p>
+
+<p>'How could I?' she returned simply; 'I was only thinking
+of Cyril.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and you are thinking of him now; he is as much my
+rival now he is dead as when he was living. That is why I
+am going away, because I can bear it no longer.'</p>
+
+<p>'Must you go?'</p>
+
+<p>Audrey's voice sank so that he could hardly hear the faint
+words. Perhaps she herself did not know what they implied;
+she was too shaken and miserable. That Michael, her own
+dear Michael, should have suffered all these years, and that she
+had never known it! Cyril was in his grave&mdash;he no longer
+needed her&mdash;what did it matter if the idea of another man
+wooing her so soon gave her pain, if she could only comfort
+Michael? But happily for them both, Michael guessed at that
+secret thought, and as he caught the words the flush mounted
+to his brow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I must go,' he said firmly; 'it is my best, my only
+chance. In my absence you will think of me more kindly.
+The old Michael&mdash;who was your friend, your faithful, devoted
+friend&mdash;will unconsciously blend with the new Michael, who
+you know is your lover. There,' he continued in a pained
+voice, 'as I speak the word you shrink again from me; and
+yet I am asking you nothing. Dear, if you were to promise
+me this moment that you would be my wife, if you were to
+tell me that you would try to love me as I wish to be loved,
+I would not marry you! No&mdash;though you are dearer to me
+than anything in life&mdash;I would not marry you!'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you not wish me to try, then?' she asked, rather bewildered
+by this strange wooing.</p>
+
+<p>Was it because Cyril was young that she had never feared
+him as she feared Michael? There was a quiet power about
+him that, in spite of his gentleness, seemed to subdue her, and
+though he was very pale, there was a fire in his eyes that made
+her unwilling to look at him. Yes, it was indeed a new Michael&mdash;one
+she could hardly understand.</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly I do not wish it,' he replied quickly. 'Can love
+come by trying?' But she could not answer him this. 'Any
+such love would not content me,' he went on; 'I must have
+all your heart or none. Forgive me if I say one thing, Audrey.
+I believe that poor Blake had not all that you have to give. I
+have thought this more than once; his love for you was so great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">{454}</a></span>
+that yours could hardly equal it. Nay, dear, I did not mean
+to hurt you by saying this,' for she was weeping now. 'You
+were goodness itself to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'I loved him; I am sure I loved him,' she said a little
+piteously, for Michael's words seemed to touch a sore spot.</p>
+
+<p>How often since Cyril's death had she blamed herself for
+not loving him more! More than once his excessive tenderness
+had wearied her, and she would have been content with less.
+She had been in no hurry to shorten her engagement, and the
+thought of resigning her maidenly freedom had always been
+distasteful to her. Could it be possible that Michael was
+right, and that there was something defective in her
+love?</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you loved him. Blake has often told me that you
+were an angel of goodness to him. He missed nothing, you
+may be sure of that; but, Audrey, I cannot help my nature.
+I should ask more than ever he did.'</p>
+
+<p>Then her head drooped, and he knew that no answer was
+possible.</p>
+
+<p>'So you know why I am going away.' And now he rose
+and again stood before her. 'Because under these circumstances
+it would no longer be possible for us to be together&mdash;at least,
+it would not be possible for me. I shall leave you to question
+your own heart. Let it speak truly. Perhaps&mdash;I do not say
+it will be so, but perhaps you may find that I am more to you
+than you think. If that time ever comes, will you send for
+me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Send for you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; be true to your own noble self, your own honest
+nature, and be true to me. You need not say many words.
+Just "Michael, come," will be enough to bring me from the
+very ends of the earth.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you will come before that; you will not wait for any
+such words?'</p>
+
+<p>But though he gave no special answer to this, she saw by
+his face that he would wait.</p>
+
+<p>'But you will write, Michael? you will not leave me'&mdash;and
+then she hastily substituted 'us'&mdash;'in complete silence? You
+may be away six months&mdash;a whole year&mdash;it may even be
+longer.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it may be longer,' he returned; and now it was he
+who was the calmer of the two. 'It is impossible for either of
+us to tell now how long my exile may last; but I will write&mdash;not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">{455}</a></span>
+often, and perhaps I may not even speak of this that has
+passed between us; but I shall write, and you will find no
+difficulty in answering my letters.'</p>
+
+<p>And when he had said this he looked at her very kindly
+and then without another word walked to the house.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">{456}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX</h2>
+
+<h3>'LET YOUR HEART PLEAD FOR ME'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'We were apart; yet day by day</div>
+<div class="verse">I bade my heart more constant be.</div>
+<div class="verse">I bade it keep the world away,</div>
+<div class="verse">And grow a home for only thee;</div>
+<div class="verse">Nor fear'd but thy love likewise grew,</div>
+<div class="verse">Like mine, each day, more tried, more true.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Matthew Arnold.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Audrey never knew how she got through the rest of the day.
+During the remainder of Michael's visit she seemed in an uneasy
+dream. Never before in her life had she been oppressed by
+such painful self-consciousness; all freedom of speech was impossible
+to her; she spoke with reluctance, and felt as though
+every word were weighed in some inward balance.</p>
+
+<p>More than once her mother asked her if she were well; but,
+happily, Michael was not present to see how the blood rushed
+to her face as she framed an evasive answer. She could not
+have told her mother whether she were ill or well: she only
+knew some moral earthquake had shattered her old illusions,
+and that she was looking out at a changed world.</p>
+
+<p>But she was conscious through it all that Michael's watchfulness
+and care shielded her from observation, that he was for
+ever throwing himself into the breach when any unusual effort
+was required. Once when her sister and Mr. Harcourt were
+present, he challenged them to a game of whist, that Audrey
+might leave her place at the piano. Very likely he had heard
+the slight quaver in her voice that told him the song tried her.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey longed to thank him as she stole out into the summer
+dusk, and wandered down the paths between the tall sentinel
+lilies, that gleamed so ghostly white in the darkness. But with
+all his thought for her, he was never alone with her for a moment
+until the last day came, and he went to the morning-room to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">{457}</a></span>
+wish her good-bye. She was tending her ferns, but she took off
+her gardening-gloves at once as he came up to her.</p>
+
+<p>'You are going, Michael; but we shall see you again before
+you really start?' she said, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
+But he shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>'I think not. Abercrombie has just written to say that
+Dick wants to get away a week earlier. I shall not be down
+here again.'</p>
+
+<p>Something choking seemed to rise in Audrey's throat, and if
+her life had depended on it she could not have got out another
+word. But Michael saw the troubled look in her eyes; they
+seemed to ask him again that question, 'Must you go?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dear; I must go,' he replied gently. 'It is better for
+us both&mdash;better for you, and far, far better for me.' And as she
+still looked at him without speaking, he drew her towards him
+and kissed her cheek. 'God be with you, my dearest!' he said
+very tenderly. 'Think of me as kindly as you can, and let
+your heart plead for me.'</p>
+
+<p>And the next moment he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey stood rooted to the spot; she felt as though some
+nightmare oppression were on her. She heard her father's voice
+calling to her. 'Where is Audrey?' he said. 'She must bid
+Michael good-bye.' And then someone&mdash;Michael, perhaps&mdash;answered
+him.</p>
+
+<p>A great longing was on her to see him again; but as she
+hesitated the wheels of the dog-cart sounded on the gravel, and
+she knew that she was too late. With a sudden impulse she
+leant out of the window. Michael was looking back at the
+house; he saw her, and raised his hat. She had just time to
+wave her hand as Dr. Ross drove rapidly through the gate.</p>
+
+<p>When her mother came to find her she was still standing
+there; she looked very pale, and the pained, wistful look was
+still in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother,' she said, 'Cyril has left me, and now Michael has
+gone, too; and the world seems a different place to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael will come back, my darling,' replied Mrs. Ross,
+vaguely troubled by the look on the girl's face. 'Your father
+says he has long wanted a thorough change, and this trip will
+do him so much good.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, he will come back; but when and how? And he will
+not come back for a long time;' and then she broke down, and
+hid her face in her mother's shoulder. 'If I were only like
+you, mother! if my life lay behind me, and had not to be lived<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">{458}</a></span>
+out day by day and year by year! for I seem so tired of
+everything.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross could make nothing of her girl; but she gave her
+just what she required that moment, a little soothing and extra
+petting.</p>
+
+<p>'You have gone through so much, and you have borne it all
+so quietly, and now Nature is having her revenge; you will be
+better presently, my darling.'</p>
+
+<p>And she was right: Audrey's strong will and sense of duty
+soon overcame the hysterical emotion.</p>
+
+<p>'I think I am tired,' she acknowledged; and to her mother's
+relief she consented to lie still and do nothing. 'I will make
+up for this idle day to-morrow,' she said with a faint smile, as
+she closed her eyes. 'Now go downstairs, mother dear, and
+don't trouble about me any more, unless you want to make me
+ashamed of myself for having been such a baby.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is just worn out with keeping everything to herself,
+and trying to spare us pain,' Mrs. Ross said to her husband, as
+she recounted this little scene to him. 'I never knew Audrey
+hysterical before; I was obliged to give her some sal volatile.
+I think she is asleep now.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't hold with sal volatile,' returned the Doctor a little
+grimly. 'Sleep is a far safer remedy, Emmie. Leave her to
+herself; she will be all right in a day or two.'</p>
+
+<p>But Dr. Ross sighed as he got up and went to his study.
+Audrey little knew that her father was in the secret; that in
+his pain and perplexity Michael had at last taken his best friend
+into his confidence.</p>
+
+<p>'We must leave things to work round,' had been his parting
+words to Michael that morning. 'No one, not even her father,
+must coerce her. All these years you have been like a son to
+me, Mike; and if my child could bring herself to love you as
+you deserve to be loved, no one would be better pleased than
+I should be.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you will tell no one&mdash;not even Cousin Emmeline?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, I should not dare tell her,' returned the Doctor with
+rather a dejected smile, for he hated to keep things from his
+wife. 'Geraldine would get hold of it, and then it would come
+round to Harcourt. No, I will keep my own counsel, Mike.
+And now good-bye, and good luck to you!'</p>
+
+<p>'It is the Burnett motto,' replied Michael, with a touch of
+solemnity in his voice&mdash;'"Good luck God send." Take care of
+her, Cousin John.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">{459}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And then the two men grasped hands and parted.</p>
+
+<p>'If I had to search the whole world over for a husband for
+her, I'd choose Mike,' was Dr. Ross's thought as he drove himself
+back again to Woodcote.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey kept her promise and made up for her one idle day.
+'Work was good for everyone,' she said, 'and it was especially
+good for her.' So the following morning she resumed lessons
+with Mollie. She had complained a few weeks before that her
+German was becoming rusty, and by her father's advice she and
+Mollie were taking lessons together of Herr Freiligrath. The
+master she had selected was a very strict one, and his lessons
+entailed a great deal of preparation. No discipline could have
+been more wholesome. Audrey forgot her perplexities while she
+translated Wallenstein and followed the unhappy fortunes of
+Max and Theckla.</p>
+
+<p>But she did not at once regain her cheerfulness, and the daily
+round of duty was not performed without a great deal of effort
+and inward prompting; if no task were left unfulfilled, if she
+were always ready to give her mother or Geraldine the companionship
+they needed, and if her father never missed one of
+her usual ministrations, it was because she would listen to no
+plea of self-indulgence.</p>
+
+<p>'You are unhappy, and I fear you must be unhappy and
+not at ease for a long time,' she would say to herself in the
+intervals of her work; 'but idleness will not help you.' And
+to give her her due, she was never busier than during the
+summer that followed Michael's leave-taking. She had no idea
+that Michael knew all she was doing, and that her father often
+wrote to him. Michael had kept his word, and his letters to
+Audrey were very few and far between, and there was not a
+word in them that her mother or Geraldine could not have read
+if she had chosen to show them; but Michael's letters had
+always been sacred to her. Still it was impossible to answer
+them with her old freedom. The happy, sisterly intercourse
+was now a thing of the past. She could no longer pour out to
+her friend all her innocent girlish thoughts; a barrier&mdash;a
+strange, unnatural barrier&mdash;had been built up between them,
+and Audrey's letters, with all her painstaking effort, gave very
+little pleasure to Michael.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor child! she is still afraid of me,' he thought, as he
+folded up the thin paper. And he could not always suppress a
+sigh as he missed the old playfulness and open-hearted affection
+that used to breathe in every carelessly-worded sentence. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">{460}</a></span>
+he knew that she could not help herself; that it was impossible
+for her now to tell him how she missed him and how heavily
+the days passed without him; and how could he know it, if
+she thought less of Cyril and more of him every day?</p>
+
+<p>Michael could not guess at all that inward self-questioning
+that seemed for ever making dumb utterance in her breast.
+Now and then, when no one needed her, she would wander
+down to 'Michael's bench' in the dusk or moonlight, and go
+over that strange conversation again.</p>
+
+<p>'Let your own heart plead for me,' had been his parting
+words; and, indeed, it seemed as though some subtle influence
+were for ever bringing his words to her memory. Why had he
+left her? Could he not have trusted her to do even this for
+him? She had loved Cyril, but she had not wished to marry
+him; she had wished to marry no man. It was the instinct
+of her nature to make others happy, and not to think of herself;
+and if Michael had wanted her&mdash;&mdash;But the next moment a
+sort of despair seized her.</p>
+
+<p>He was not like Cyril. What she had to give would not
+content him in the least.</p>
+
+<p>'I must have all your heart or none,' he had said to her;
+and his eyes seemed to dominate her as he spoke. 'I should
+ask more than he did.' And she had not dared to answer him.</p>
+
+<p>No; she could not deceive him. She knew that no kindness
+on her part would ever wear in his eyes the semblance of
+the love he wanted. What could she do for him or for herself?</p>
+
+<p>'Can love come by trying?' he had asked; and she could
+recall vividly the bitterness of his tone as he said this.</p>
+
+<p>But the speech over which she pondered most, sometimes
+for an hour together, was a very different one.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall leave you,' he had told her, and there had been a
+strange light in his eyes as he spoke&mdash;'I shall leave you to
+question your own heart. Let it speak truly. Perhaps&mdash;I do
+not say it will be so, but perhaps you may find that I am more
+to you than you think. If that time ever comes, will you send
+for me?'</p>
+
+<p>'What did he mean by saying this?' she would ask herself.
+'Why did his look seem to reproach me and pierce me to the
+heart? How could I know, unless he told me? It is not my
+fault that I have been so blind. I cannot send for him&mdash;I
+cannot! It is too soon, and&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>But Audrey did not finish her sentence. Even under the
+dark trees the hot flush was scorching her face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">{461}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I am so tired of it all!' she would say, springing to
+her feet with a sudden, quick impatience.</p>
+
+<p>The old tranquil life&mdash;the happy, careless life&mdash;was gone
+for ever. Cyril&mdash;her poor dear Cyril&mdash;was in his grave; and
+now there was this new lover, with his proud, gentle wooing:
+not her old Michael who had so satisfied her, but a new, powerful
+Michael, who half drew and half repelled her, and for whom
+she had no fitting answer.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey was glad when August came and she could find some
+relief in change of scene. Dr. Ross had taken a large roomy
+cottage at Keswick for the summer holidays, and the Harcourts
+and Kester were to join them. Audrey was thankful that her
+father had not selected Scotland, as his son-in-law had suggested;
+and she made up her mind, in her sensible way, that,
+as far as lay in her power, she would enjoy herself as much as
+possible; and after a time her efforts were not unsuccessful.</p>
+
+<p>Derwent-water was in unusual beauty that year, and a spell
+of warm, sunny weather enabled them to enjoy their boating
+expeditions on the lake. Audrey liked to paddle herself and
+Mollie to one of the islands, and sit there reading and working,
+while Kester and Percival fished and Geraldine roamed by the
+lake-side with her bonnie boy, sitting like a young prince in his
+little wheeled carriage, beside her. There was a long-tailed,
+shaggy pony belonging to the cottage&mdash;a sturdy, sure-footed,
+good-tempered animal, and Dr. Ross would often drive his wife
+through some of the lovely dales. Mrs. Ross never thoroughly
+enjoyed herself in a boat&mdash;she had a dislike to find herself surrounded
+by the deep, clear water; and she much preferred the
+chaise and Jemmy.</p>
+
+<p>'You were always a goose, Emmie, and I suppose that is
+why I married you,' Dr. Ross remarked, as he tickled up
+Jemmy's broad back with the whip.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, the Doctor loved these expeditions quite as
+much as his wife did.</p>
+
+<p>'What a handsome Darby and Joan they look, Jerry!' Mr.
+Harcourt once said, as he walked beside her, with Leonard
+proudly seated on his shoulder. 'I doubt if we shall make
+such a good-looking couple, my love, in thirty years' time.'</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Harcourt was smiling in a sly fashion, as he took
+a sidelong glance at his graceful wife. Geraldine was looking
+lovelier than ever in the broad-brimmed hat that her husband
+had chosen for her.</p>
+
+<p>A sad event happened soon after their return to Woodcote.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">{462}</a></span>
+Matthew O'Brien died on the anniversary of his son's death.
+His end had been very sudden; no one had suspected that for
+months an insidious disease had been making stealthy progress.
+He had seemed much as usual, and had made no complaint,
+only Mrs. Baxter had remarked to her father that Uncle Mat
+seemed quieter-like and more peaceable. 'He has given up
+those wearisome prowls of his, and takes more kindly to the
+chimney-corner,' as she said.</p>
+
+<p>But one evening Mat put his pipe down silently before it
+was half smoked, and went off to bed, and the next day he
+complained of pain and drowsiness; and Prissy cooked some of
+her messes and soothing possets, and made much of him as he
+lay on his pillow looking idly out on the October sunshine.
+And the next day, as the pain and drowsiness did not diminish,
+she very wisely suggested that a doctor should be sent for;
+and as Dr. Foster stood beside him, asking him questions rather
+gravely, a sudden thought came into Mat's mind, and he looked
+into the doctor's eyes a little solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>'You need not be afraid to tell me, doctor,' he said sadly;
+'my life has not been much good to me, and I shall not be
+sorry to part with it.' But the doctor's answer was kindly
+evasive.</p>
+
+<p>But two or three nights afterwards, as Thomas O'Brien was
+sitting beside the bed for an hour to relieve Prissy, Mat stretched
+out his lean arm and grasped his brother's coat-sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>'It is coming, Tom,' he said; 'I shall soon be with my boy&mdash;that
+is, if God's mercy will grant me admittance to that
+good place. Give my love to Mollie and the little chap, and,
+Tom, old fellow, God bless you!'</p>
+
+<p>He murmured something drowsily, and then again more
+clearly:</p>
+
+<p>'Tell Olive that she was not to blame so much, after all.
+I have been too hard on her, poor girl! but she could not help
+her nature. Isn't there something about "To whoever little
+is forgiven, the same loveth little"? I seem to remember
+Susie reading it.'</p>
+
+<p>And Thomas O'Brien, bending over the gray face, repeated
+the words slowly:</p>
+
+<p>'"Wherefore I say unto you, her sins, which are many, are
+forgiven, for she loveth much."'</p>
+
+<p>But Mat interrupted him:</p>
+
+<p>'He has forgiven me plenty, lad, and you too, and I love
+Him for it.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">{463}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And those were Matthew O'Brien's last words.</p>
+
+<p>Mat O'Brien did not go unwept to his grave, in spite of his
+unsatisfactory life. His brother mourned for him long and
+sincerely, and in their way Kester and Mollie grieved, too. At
+Audrey's wish, Mollie wrote the full particulars of her father's
+death to the convent. Sister Monica's answer was, in Audrey's
+opinion, singularly suggestive of the ci-devant Mrs. Blake. It
+was a strange medley of mysticism and motherly yearnings, but
+at the end was a touch of real honest feeling.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'Tell Audrey that when I pray for my boy I pray for her,
+too; and, Mollie, do not think that your mother forgets you,
+for perhaps she may do you better service now than ever she
+did when we were together. Think of me sometimes, my child.
+I am glad that your father spoke of me so kindly. I can pray
+for him now, as I never could when he was living. Poor man!
+It was an ill world to him, but he is out of it now.</p>
+
+<p>Your loving and repentant mother,</p>
+
+<p class="sign">'<span class="smcap">Sister Monica Mary.</span>'</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Audrey went over to Brail constantly during the autumn
+and winter months that followed Mat's death. Sometimes
+Mollie accompanied her, but oftener she was alone. Nothing
+cheered Thomas O'Brien more than the society of his favourite.
+He loved to talk to her of the dear ones who had passed
+within the veil, and to Audrey herself the visits were very
+soothing.</p>
+
+<p>She liked those solitary walks under the gray November
+skies, or when the December sun hung redly behind the
+distant hedgerows. How often she had walked there when
+Cyril had met her half-way, or she had come upon him
+lingering in the lanes, with Zack bounding beside him. It
+was in the Brail lanes that he first told her of his love, when
+she had sent him sorrowfully away from her; but somehow,
+as she walked there now, between hedgerows white with hoar
+frost, she thought less of him than of Michael; but as yet no
+message had been sent to recall the wanderer home.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">{464}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a>CHAPTER L</h2>
+
+<h3>BOOTY'S MASTER</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'And she to him will reach her hand,</div>
+<div class="verse">And gazing in his eyes will stand,</div>
+<div class="verse">And know her friend and weep for glee,</div>
+<div class="verse">And cry, "Long, long, I've looked for thee."'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Matthew Arnold.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Kester had spent his Christmas holidays at Woodcote;
+Audrey loved to have him with her. Somehow he seemed to
+belong to Michael, and the boy warmly returned her affection.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know that Mr. Abercrombie is coming home in
+March?' he said to her the day before he went back to
+Brighton; 'he is quite well now, and Captain Burnett says
+he is in a fever to get back to England. Do you think
+Captain Burnett will come, too?' and Kester looked anxiously
+in her face.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey could not satisfy Kester on this point; nevertheless,
+she felt a secret hope stirring in her heart that Michael would
+not stay away much longer. After all, was it likely that he
+would wait for the message when he must know how
+impossible it would be for her to send it? He had been away
+seven months, and by this time he must be growing homesick.</p>
+
+<p>Almost the same thought occurred to Michael as, early in
+March, he sat in the loggia of an old Florentine palace, where
+he and his friend had a suite of rooms.</p>
+
+<p>How long had he been away, he wondered, as he looked out
+on the sunset&mdash;seven, nay, eight months; and as yet there
+had been no recall. Had he really expected it? Would it
+not be as well to go back and plead his own cause, and see
+what these months of absence had done for him, or should he
+wait a little longer?</p>
+
+<p>Michael's self-imposed exile had not been unhappy. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">{465}</a></span>
+companion was congenial to him; the varied scenes through
+which he had passed, the historic interest of the cities, had
+engrossed and interested him; and, perhaps for the first time,
+he tasted the delights of a well-filled purse, as he accumulated
+art treasures and pictures; but, above all, a latent hope, to
+which he gave no voice or title, kept him patient and cheerful.</p>
+
+<p>'It was too soon; but by and by she will find it out for
+herself,' he would say, as he strolled through the galleries, or
+stood by some moss-grown fountain to buy flowers from a
+dark-eyed Florentine girl.</p>
+
+<p>Should he go back with Abercrombie next week, or should
+he push on towards Greece and the Holy Land? It was a
+little difficult to decide, but somehow Michael never answered
+that question. Fate took the matter into her own hands, as
+she often does when the knot becomes too intricate for the
+bungling fingers of poor mortals.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow Audrey became convinced in her own mind that
+Michael would certainly accompany his friend back to England.
+They had started together; was it likely that Michael would
+allow him to return alone? and when March came she began
+to look anxiously for a letter announcing this intention.</p>
+
+<p>She was thinking of this one afternoon as she sat talking
+to her mother. It was a cold, dreary day, and Audrey had
+just remarked that no one in Rutherford would think of
+leaving their fireside on such an afternoon, when Geraldine
+entered, glowing from the cold wind, and looking cosy and
+comfortable in her warm furs.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, what a day to venture out,' remonstrated her
+mother; 'even Audrey says the wind is cruel.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not such a foe to the east wind as Michael is,'
+returned Geraldine cheerfully, as she seated herself out of the
+range of the fire; 'and Percival never likes me to cosset
+myself&mdash;that is why I never take cold. By the bye, I heard
+something about Michael a little while ago. Just as I was
+talking to Mrs. Charrington, who should come in but Dora
+Abercrombie! You know Dora, Audrey. She is the second
+one; but she is not half so good-looking as Gwendoline.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is related to Mrs. Charrington, is she not, Gage?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; a step-niece, or something of that sort; not a very
+near relationship, but they are very intimate. She says her
+brother is expected in Portland Place to-morrow or the day
+after.' Here Audrey gave a start. 'Take care, my dear:
+the urn is running over; you are filling the teapot too full.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">{466}</a></span>
+Shall I ring for Crauford? No? Well, as I was saying'&mdash;rather
+absently, for her eyes were still following the thin
+stream on the tea-tray that Audrey was hurriedly wiping up&mdash;'Master Dick
+is expected back&mdash;and here Dora was a trifle
+mysterious; and then it came out that he was engaged&mdash;had
+been engaged for the last eight months; only the mother of
+his lady-love had turned restive. But now things were
+smoother, and she hoped that they would soon be married.
+Poor Michael! I am afraid he has not had a very cheerful
+companion all these months.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did Miss Abercrombie mention Michael?' asked Audrey,
+speaking with manifest effort. How tiresome Gage was! as
+though anyone wanted to hear about Dick Abercrombie's love
+affairs!</p>
+
+<p>'Oh dear yes! and that is the worst part of all,' returned
+Geraldine, with the zest that is always shown by the bearer of
+bad news, even by a superior person like young Mrs. Harcourt.
+'I had no idea Michael would play truant for so long: actually
+she says her brother is coming home without him! and he is
+going to spend the summer and autumn in Greece and the
+Holy Land, and perhaps winter in Algiers. In fact, Dick
+Abercrombie says he does not know when he means to come back.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is that you say, my dear?' asked Dr. Ross, who
+entered the room in time to hear the last clause. 'Were you
+speaking of Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, father dear.' And Geraldine willingly recapitulated
+the whole of her speech for his benefit. 'And I do wish someone
+would write and give him a good scolding for staying away
+so long, as though no one wanted him! And we have all been
+missing him so badly!'</p>
+
+<p>'By the bye, that reminds me that I was called away just
+now to speak to Fergusson, and I have actually left my letter
+to Michael open on my study-table; and I meant it to go by
+this post. Do you mind just slipping it into its envelope,
+Audrey?&mdash;it is already directed. Thank you, my dear,' as
+Audrey silently left the room.</p>
+
+<p>Was Dr. Ross really anxious about his letter, or had he
+noticed the white look on his daughter's face, and feared that
+others might notice it too?</p>
+
+<p>Audrey never knew how long she sat before her father's
+study-table, neither could she have recalled a single thought
+that passed through her mind. A dull throbbing pain was at
+her heart; the cold numbness that had crept over her as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">{467}</a></span>
+Michael had bidden her good-bye, and which kept her dumb
+before him, was over her now&mdash;some strange pulse seemed
+beating in her head. He was going still farther away from
+her. He was not coming back. He would never come back.
+Something would happen to him. She would never see his
+kind face again&mdash;never, never!</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps this long silence had angered him&mdash;Michael, who
+had always been so gentle to her, on whose face she had never
+seen a frown! Michael had grown weary of endurance, and had
+given up all hope of winning her. Oh, if he had only trusted
+her! if he would only have believed that she would have done
+her very best to make him happy! How could he be so cruel
+to himself and to her? How could he have the heart to punish
+her so bitterly, as though she were to blame? Could she help
+her nature any more than she could help this separation from
+her dearest friend?</p>
+
+<p>And then there came over her the deadly feeling of possible
+loss, and a desolation too terrible to contemplate. She had
+mourned very tenderly for Cyril; but if Michael died&mdash;if any
+ill should befall him in those distant lands&mdash;'Oh, I could not
+bear it!' was her inward cry. 'Life without Michael would
+be impossible,' and as this thought flashed through her mind
+her eyes suddenly fell on an empty space at the end of her
+father's letter. With a sudden impulse she took up the pen
+and wrote three words across the page in her clear, legible
+writing&mdash;'Michael, come. Audrey.' She was almost breathless
+with her haste as she thrust it into the envelope, and carried it
+to the boy who was waiting for the letters. Then she went
+back to the drawing-room, for she dare not trust herself to be
+alone another moment. What had she done? What would
+Michael think of her? What must she think of herself? No
+wonder Geraldine looked at her in surprise as she crossed the
+room and took up her work.</p>
+
+<p>'What a time you have been, Audrey!' she said, a little
+reproachfully. 'I have been waiting to bid you good-bye.
+Father is going to walk with me to Hillside, so Percival will
+not mind my being so late. How cold your face and hands
+are, and I am as warm as possible! You have been running
+about those draughty passages, and have taken a chill. She
+looks pale, doesn't she, mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, come,' interrupted her father impatiently, 'you must
+not keep me waiting any longer, Geraldine. Sit down by the
+fire and warm yourself, my dear.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">{468}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And for one moment Dr. Ross's hand lay lightly on Audrey's
+brown hair. Did he guess the real meaning of the girl's downcast
+and sorrowful looks? And why was there a pleased smile
+on his face as he followed his eldest daughter out of the room?</p>
+
+<p>'I shall write to Michael and tell him to come home,' he
+said to himself, as he buttoned up his great-coat. 'I promised
+him that I would watch over his interests, and I shall tell him
+that in my opinion there is some hope for him now.'</p>
+
+<p>The next few days were terrible to Audrey. More than
+once she feared she would be ill. She could not sleep properly.
+The mornings, the afternoons, the evenings, were endless to
+her. Mollie's merry chatter seemed to jar on her. Her
+mother's kindly commonplace remarks seemed devoid of interest,
+and yet above all things she dreaded to be alone. Was she
+growing nervous? for any sudden sound, an unaccustomed footstep,
+even the clanging of the door-bell, made her start, and
+drove the blood from her heart. Would he write or would he
+telegraph? Should she hear one day that he was on his way
+home? Audrey was asking herself these questions morning,
+noon, and night. She felt as though the suspense would wear
+her out in time. If anyone had told Audrey that for the first
+time in her life she had all the symptoms that belong to a
+certain well-known disease&mdash;that these cold and hot fits, this
+self-distrustfulness and new timidity that were transforming her
+into a different Audrey, were only its salient features&mdash;she
+would have scouted the idea very fiercely. That she was in
+love with Michael, and that her love for Cyril was a very dim,
+shadowy sort of affection compared with her love for Michael,&mdash;such
+a thought would have utterly shocked her; and yet it
+was the truth. Michael had always been more to her than
+ever she had guessed, and this long absence had taught her the
+unmistakable fact that she could not do without him.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey struggled on as well as she could through those
+restless, miserable days. She would not give in; she had
+never given in in her life to any passing tide of emotion, and
+she would not be weak now. Every morning, after a wakeful,
+unrefreshing night, she braced herself to meet the day's duties.
+She read French and German with Mollie; she superintended
+her practising, and only wandered off in a dream when Mollie's
+scales and exercises became too monotonous. She went up to
+Hillside and played with Leonard in the nursery, and though
+Geraldine's sharp eyes discovered that something was amiss,
+and that Audrey was not in her usual spirits, she had the tact<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">{469}</a></span>
+and wisdom not to press for an immediate confidence; and
+Audrey was very grateful for this forbearance. Audrey's sturdy
+nature could brook no self-indulgence, and though the March
+winds were cold, and the Brail lanes deep in miry clay, she
+persisted in paying her accustomed weekly visit to Thomas
+O'Brien.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie had a cold, and so had established a claim to remain
+by the fireside; but Audrey would listen to no weak persuasion
+to ensconce herself comfortably in the opposite easy-chair. On
+the contrary, she put on her thickest boots, and, tucking up
+her skirts, braved wind and mud, and even a cold mizzle of rain,
+on her way back, and had her reward, for the walk freshened
+her, and in cheering her old friend she felt her own spirits revive.</p>
+
+<p>She was in a happier mood as she let herself in, and shook
+out her wet cloak. She was in far too disreputable a state to
+present herself in the drawing-room; besides, she was late, and
+she must get ready for dinner. She ran upstairs lightly, but at
+the top of the staircase she suddenly stopped as though she had
+been turned to stone. And yet there was nothing very astonishing
+in the fact that a small brown dog, with very short legs,
+should be pattering in a cheerful manner down the corridor, or
+that he should utter a whine of friendly and delighted recognition
+when he saw Audrey; and if she stared at him as though he
+were some ghostly apparition, that was not Booty's fault. But
+the next moment she had caught him up, and had darted with
+him into her own room.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Booty, Booty!' she gasped, as the little animal licked
+her pale face in a most feeling manner; 'to think he has come,
+Booty!' And if the application of a warm tongue could have
+given comfort and assurance, Audrey could have had plenty of
+both.</p>
+
+<p>For a little while she could do nothing but sit there hugging
+the dog, and making little plaintive speeches to him, until she
+heard Mollie's step at the door, and then she put him down
+hastily.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Audrey dear!' exclaimed Mollie, breathless with
+excitement. 'Have you really got back at last? They are all
+asking for you. Dinner is nearly ready, and you have not
+begun to dress yet. And who do you think is in the drawing-room?'</p>
+
+<p>For Booty, who always knew when he was not wanted, had
+pattered softly out of the room, thinking it high time to rejoin
+his master.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">{470}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Is it Michael?' asked Audrey, with her face well hidden in
+her wardrobe.</p>
+
+<p>'To think of your guessing like that!' returned Mollie in a
+vexed tone. 'Whatever put Captain Burnett in your head,
+Audrey? Everyone else is so surprised. Mrs. Ross nearly
+jumped off her chair when she heard his voice. He has been
+here two hours, and we have all been so busy getting his room
+ready.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am very glad he has come,' returned Audrey, trying to
+speak as usual; 'but now will you go down, Mollie dear? for
+I shall dress more quickly if you do not talk to me. You may
+give me my dress if you like. There, that will do.' For
+Mollie's chatter was unendurable.</p>
+
+<p>'How was she to go down and meet him before them all?'
+she thought, as her trembling fingers bungled with the fastening.
+Her cheeks were burning, and yet her hands were cold as ice.
+Would he see how nervous she was, and how she dreaded to
+meet him? And yet the thought that he was there&mdash;in the
+house&mdash;and that in a few minutes she should hear his beloved
+voice, made her almost dizzy with happiness. And as she
+clasped the brilliant cross on her neck she hardly dare look at
+herself, for fear she should read her own secret in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The gong sounded before she was ready, and she dared not
+linger, for fear Mollie should come again in search of her.
+Without giving herself time for thought, she hurried down, and
+stood panting a little before the drawing-room door. Yes, they
+were all there: her father and mother and Mollie; and someone
+else&mdash;imperfectly seen through a sort of haze&mdash;was there too!
+Audrey never knew what word of greeting came to her lips as
+Michael took her hand. Her eyes were never lifted, as she felt
+that strong, warm pressure. His low-toned 'I have come,
+Audrey,' might mean anything or nothing, and was met by
+absolute silence on her part. Perhaps Michael felt this meeting
+embarrassing, for he dropped her hand in another moment and
+spoke to Mollie, and Audrey took refuge with her father.</p>
+
+<p>But dinner was on the table, and she must take her seat
+opposite to him. It was Mollie who was beside him. Happily,
+no one spoke to her for the first few minutes. Dr. Ross was
+questioning Michael about his route, and Michael seemed to
+have a great deal to say about his journey.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey recovered herself, and breathed a little more freely.
+He was talking to her father, and she could venture one glance
+at him. How well he looked! He was not so pale, and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">{471}</a></span>
+moustache seemed darker&mdash;she had never thought him handsome
+before. But at this point, and as though aware of her scrutiny,
+Michael turned his face full on her, and a flash from the keen
+blue eyes made her head droop over her plate. During the rest
+of dinner she scarcely spoke, and more than once Mrs. Ross
+looked at her in some perplexity. Audrey was very strange,
+she thought. Had she and Michael quarrelled, that they had
+met so coldly, with not even a cousinly kiss after his long
+absence. And now they did not speak to each other!</p>
+
+<p>Dinner was later than usual that night, and the prayer-bell
+sounded before they left the table. Audrey whispered to Mollie
+to play the hymn; but she was almost sorry she had done so
+when she found that Michael had no hymn-book, and she must
+offer him hers. He took it from her, perhaps because he noticed
+that her hand was not steady; and she could hear his clear,
+full bass, though she could not utter a note.</p>
+
+<p>He was still beside her as they left the schoolroom; but as
+she was about to follow her mother and Mollie, she felt his
+hand on hers.</p>
+
+<p>'Come with me a moment,' he said. 'I want to show you
+something.'</p>
+
+<p>And there was no resisting the firm grasp that compelled
+her to obey. He was taking her to her father's study; and
+there he shut the door, as though to exclude the outer world.
+She was trembling with the fear of what he would say to her,
+and how she was to answer him, when he came up to her and
+said, in his old familiar voice:</p>
+
+<p>'Are you never going to look at me again, Audrey?'</p>
+
+<p>Something amused, and yet caressing, in his tone made her
+raise her eyes, and the look that met hers said so plainly that
+he understood everything, that her embarrassment and shyness
+passed away for ever; and as he took her in his arms, with a
+word or two that told her of his deep inward gladness, a sense
+of well-being and utter content seemed to assure her that she
+had found her true rest at last.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">{472}</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LI" id="CHAPTER_LI"></a>CHAPTER LI</h2>
+
+<h3>'LOVE'S AFTERMATH'</h3>
+
+<table summary="quotation">
+<tr><td>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">'I seek no copy now of life's first half:</div>
+<div class="verse">Leave here the pages with long musing curled,</div>
+<div class="verse">And write me new my future's epigraph,</div>
+<div class="verse">New angel mine, unhoped for in the world.'</div>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<div class="sign"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Browning.</span></div>
+</div>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Neither of them spoke for some minutes; perhaps Michael's
+strong emotion felt the need of silence. But presently he said
+in a voice that thrilled her with its tenderness:</p>
+
+<p>'Audrey, you must never be afraid of me again.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall never need to be afraid again,' she returned softly.
+'Oh, Michael, if you only knew how dreadful it has been all
+the week! I would not go through it again for worlds.'</p>
+
+<p>'Has it been so bad as that?' in his old rallying tone, for
+he saw how greatly she was moved.</p>
+
+<p>'You have no idea how bad it was. I felt that I had done
+something very bold and unmaidenly in writing that postscript
+to father's letter. I had longed for your return; but after
+that I began to dread it: I was so afraid of what you must
+think of me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think you have known my opinion on that subject for a
+great many years,' he replied gently. 'If you had not been
+different from other girls, if you had not been immeasurably
+above them all in my eyes, I would never have asked you to
+send me that message. I knew I could rely on your perfect
+truth, and you have not disappointed me.'</p>
+
+<p>This delicate flattery soothed her and appeased her sensitiveness.
+Michael watched her for a moment; then he drew up
+a chair to the fire in his old way.</p>
+
+<p>'You must sit there and talk to me for a little while,' he
+said quietly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">{473}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And as she looked at him rather doubtfully, and suggested
+that her mother would be wondering at their absence, he
+negatived the idea at once.</p>
+
+<p>'By this time your father will have told her everything;
+he has been in my confidence all these months. No, they
+will not want us, and I have not seen you yet&mdash;at least, you
+have not seen me; I am quite sure of that.' And as Audrey's
+dimples came into play at this remark, he very nearly made
+her feel shy again by saying, 'You have no idea how lovely
+you have grown, Audrey! Has anyone told you so, I wonder?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, of course not. Who do you think would talk such
+nonsense to me?'</p>
+
+<p>But her blush made him still more certain of the fact.</p>
+
+<p>'At any rate, it is the dearest face in the world to me,' he
+went on, still more earnestly. 'Audrey, I think even if you
+had not written those three little words, I must still have
+come home. I could not have stayed away from you any
+longer.'</p>
+
+<p>'If I had only known that, I might have spared myself a
+great deal of pain,' she replied quickly; 'but they told me
+that you were going to Greece and the Holy Land, and Mr.
+Abercrombie had come back alone, and I thought&mdash;I thought
+that I should never see you again.'</p>
+
+<p>'I began to have the same sort of feeling myself, and then
+I was so tired of waiting. How long have I wanted you,
+Audrey?&mdash;ten or twelve years, at least. I begin to think that
+there never was such a fellow for constancy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ten or twelve years! What can you mean, Michael?'</p>
+
+<p>But she knew well enough what he meant, only she was
+woman enough to love to hear him say it.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it was quite twelve years ago! I can remember the
+occasion quite well. You were in a short white frock, and you
+had your hair streaming over your shoulders. You were such
+a pretty little girl, Audrey. I admired you far more than I
+admired Gage, with all her regular features.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, what nonsense, Michael!'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense! You will tell me next that you do not remember
+asking me to give you a kiss. "I want to kiss you,
+Mike, because you are so nice and smart." Do you think I
+shall ever forget that? I lost my heart to you then.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must not expect me to remember those things,' she
+returned, blushing like a rose.</p>
+
+<p>'No, darling, I suppose not; you were only a child then.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">{474}</a></span>
+But, all the same, these memories are very sweet to me. You
+have been my one and only love, and you know that now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Michael!' And now the gray eyes filled with tears,
+for these words sounded like a reproach to her.</p>
+
+<p>'You must not misunderstand me,' he returned, shocked at
+her evident misconception of his words. 'Do you think that
+I begrudge the love you gave that poor fellow? Some day,
+when you are my wife, I will tell you all I think on this
+subject; but not now&mdash;not to-night, of all nights, when I
+know and feel for the first time that my treasure is in my own
+keeping.'</p>
+
+<p>And then he stopped, and, in rather an agitated voice,
+begged her that he might not see tears in her dear eyes to-night.</p>
+
+<p>'I did not mean to be foolish,' she returned, in a low voice;
+'only, when I think of all you have suffered, and how patient
+you have been, and how beautifully you bore it all for our
+sakes, I feel as though I should never make up to you for all
+you have gone through. Michael'&mdash;and here her look was a
+little wistful&mdash;'are you sure that I shall never disappoint
+you&mdash;that what I have to give will content you?'</p>
+
+<p>But his answer fully satisfied her on this point. He was
+more than content, he said; he needed no assurances of her
+affection&mdash;he would never need them. The first look at her
+face had told him all he wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>'I think I can read your very thoughts, Audrey&mdash;that I
+know you better than you know yourself;' and as Michael said
+this there was a smile upon his face that seemed to baffle her&mdash;a
+smile so penetrating and sweet that it lingered in her memory
+long afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>And a few minutes later Michael proved the truth of his
+words. He was showing her the ring that he had chosen&mdash;a
+half-hoop of diamonds of the finest water, and their lustre and
+brilliancy almost dazzled Audrey.</p>
+
+<p>'I remember your love for diamonds,' he said, as he took
+her hand.</p>
+
+<p>But she did not answer him. She was looking rather sadly
+at a little gold ring she had always worn.</p>
+
+<p>'Do not take it off!' he said hastily, as he read the tender
+reluctance in her face. 'Dear Audrey, why should not my
+diamonds keep company with his ring?' And, as her eyes
+expressed her gratitude, he slipped the brilliant ring into
+its place. 'They will soon have to make way for another.
+The diamonds will make a capital guard.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">{475}</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But though he evidently expected an answer to this, Audrey
+made no response, except to remark on the lateness of the hour;
+and then Michael did consent to adjourn to the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>They were eagerly expected and heartily welcomed, and as
+her father folded her in his arms with a murmured blessing,
+and she received her mother's tearful congratulations, Audrey
+felt how truly they appreciated her choice. On this occasion
+there were no drawbacks, no whispered fear of what Geraldine
+and her husband might say. Mrs. Ross begged that she
+might be allowed to carry the good news to Hillside. They
+were coming up to dinner, and she thought that it was due
+to them that they should be prepared beforehand; and, as
+everyone assented to this, Mrs. Ross started early the next
+morning on her delightful embassage.</p>
+
+<p>But she had miscalculated the amount of pleasure that her
+news would impart. Geraldine cried with joy when she heard
+the news, and nothing would satisfy her except to put on her
+bonnet and walk back with her mother to Woodcote.</p>
+
+<p>She interrupted a delightful <i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i> between the lovers.
+Not that either of them minded; for, as Michael sensibly
+remarked, he expected that they would have plenty of <i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;tes</i>
+in their life, and Audrey was sufficiently fond of her sister
+to welcome her under any circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>'How did you think I could wait until the evening?' she
+said, as she threw her arms round Audrey. 'Oh, my darling,
+do you know how glad I am about this? And to think that
+no one ever imagined it would be Michael!' And then, as he
+gave her a brotherly kiss, and begged that he, too, might be
+congratulated, she continued earnestly: 'Yes, indeed; and we
+have all been as blind and stupid as possible! And yet, when
+one comes to think of it, you and Audrey are cut out for each
+other.'</p>
+
+<p>'I was afraid you might say something about the disparity
+in our ages&mdash;five-and-twenty and forty; and actually I have
+some gray hairs already, Gage.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense!' she returned indignantly. 'I never saw you
+look younger and better in your life; and as for disparity, as
+you call it, isn't it just the same between Percival and myself?
+and can any couple be happier? If you are only as good to
+Audrey as Percival is to me, she will be the happiest woman
+in the world!'</p>
+
+<p>It was a pity Mr. Harcourt could not see his wife as she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">{476}</a></span>
+made this speech, for she looked so lovely in her matronly dignity
+that Michael and Audrey exchanged an admiring glance. But
+the climax of their success was felt to be reached when Mr.
+Harcourt arrived that evening.</p>
+
+<p>'You have done the best day's work that ever you did in
+your life when you said "Yes" to Burnett!' was his first
+speech to Audrey; and then he had turned very red, and
+wrung her hand with such violence that it throbbed with pain.</p>
+
+<p>'I think you ought to give her a kiss, Percy,' suggested his
+wife a little mischievously; for it was well known that Mr.
+Harcourt objected to any such demonstration, except to his
+own wife.</p>
+
+<p>'No, thank you,' returned Audrey, stepping back. 'I am
+quite sure of Percival's sympathy without putting it to such
+a painful proof.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall kiss Audrey on her wedding-day,' replied Mr. Harcourt
+solemnly; 'that is, if her husband will permit me,' with
+a bow to Michael.</p>
+
+<p>But this remark drove his sister-in-law to the other end of
+the room, so that she lost a certain straightforward and complimentary
+speech that gave a great deal of pleasure to Michael,
+and which he never could be induced to repeat to her.</p>
+
+<p>No one could doubt Audrey's happiness after the first few
+days of strangeness had worn off, and she had grown used to
+her new position as Michael's <i>fianc&eacute;e</i>. Michael had been very
+careful not to scare her at first&mdash;he had no wish to bring back
+the shyness that had made their first evening such a misery to
+them both&mdash;and his forbearance was rewarded when he saw
+the old frankness and joyousness return, and Audrey became
+her own sweet self again.</p>
+
+<p>Michael was an ardent lover, but he was not an exacting
+one: Audrey could have had as much freedom as she needed
+during their brief engagement, but she had ceased to desire
+such freedom.</p>
+
+<p>She remembered sometimes with faint, unavoidable regret
+that Cyril's demonstrativeness had at times wearied her; but
+she had no such feeling with Michael: when he left her for a
+few days to complete the purchase of a pretty little property he
+had secured for their future home in one of the loveliest spots
+in Surrey, she was as restless during his absence as ever
+Geraldine had been.</p>
+
+<p>Michael was surprised to find how she had missed him, and
+how overjoyed she was at his return; but he never told her so,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">{477}</a></span>
+or ever alluded to the mistake that had doomed them both to
+such misery.</p>
+
+<p>'My innocent darling! how could she know that I loved
+her, when I never told her so? It was I who would have been
+to blame if she had married Cyril. God grant that in that
+case she might never have found out her mistake; but I do
+not know. She would always have cared too much for Michael,
+and he would have found it out in time;' but he kept such
+thoughts to himself.</p>
+
+<p>Audrey had no objection to offer when Michael pleaded that
+they should be married early in August. He had waited long
+enough, she knew, and there was nothing to gain by waiting.</p>
+
+<p>But she had a long talk with her mother and Geraldine
+about Mollie, whom she still regarded as her special <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i>.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael has Kester,' she suggested; 'so I daresay he will
+not mind Mollie sharing our home.'</p>
+
+<p>'You will make a great mistake if you ask him any such
+question,' returned Geraldine, in her practical, matter-of-fact
+way. 'Kester will be at Oxford, and during the long vacation
+he will join some reading party or other&mdash;Michael told me so;
+but Mollie would want a home all the year round. Why do
+you not leave her at Woodcote? Mother will be dreadfully
+dull without you at first, and, of course, I cannot always be
+with her. You are very fond of Mollie, are you not, mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'She is a dear, good child, and I should love to have her
+with me,' was Mrs. Ross's reply. 'That is a clever thought of
+yours, my love, and Michael certainly will want his wife to
+himself&mdash;men always do.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you really think so, mother, and if Mollie does not mind,
+she shall stay at Woodcote,' was Audrey's reply.</p>
+
+<p>And when Mollie was consulted she proved quite willing to
+do as they all wished.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course, dear Mrs. Ross will be dull. And I know I
+should only be in Captain Burnett's way,' argued Mollie, a little
+tearfully. 'I knew that from the first. I shall miss you
+dreadfully, Audrey. No one will ever take your place; but I
+shall feel as though I were helping you somehow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, and then you will pay me long visits, Mollie; and, of
+course, Michael will often bring me to see mother.'</p>
+
+<p>And this charming prospect, and the promise that she should
+be Audrey's bridesmaid, speedily consoled Mollie.</p>
+
+<p>Michael had stipulated that their honeymoon should be
+spent in Scotland, and to Audrey's amusement Braemar was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">{478}</a></span>
+the place he finally selected, and he would have the very
+cottage, or rather cottages, that Dr. Ross had taken for his
+family.</p>
+
+<p>'We can shut up some of the rooms and only use as many
+as we want,' he said, when Mrs. Ross had complained of the
+roominess. 'We are rich people, and can afford it; and as
+Crauford is to be Audrey's maid, she can come with us and see
+that things are comfortable. Do you remember that sitting-room,
+Audrey, and the horse-hair sofa, and the rowan-berries
+and heather in the big china jars? By the bye, you must have
+a gray tweed dress and a deerstalker cap, and look as you used
+to look; and there is the little bridge where Gage and I used
+to meet you all when you had had a day's outing on the
+moors. Shall you not love to go there again, Audrey?</p>
+
+<p>And in answer Audrey said 'Yes' rather demurely.</p>
+
+<p>But she was not demure at all when two months afterwards
+she sat on the little bridge in the sunset, watching the very
+same ducks dibble with their yellow bills in the brook that
+trickled so musically over the stones, while Michael stood
+beside her, lazily throwing in pebbles for Booty's amusement;
+on the contrary, she was laughing and talking with a great deal
+of animation, and, strange to say, she wore the gray tweed, and
+the deerstalker cap was on her bright brown hair.</p>
+
+<p>'We have had such a delicious day!' she was saying. 'I
+think there is nothing, after all, like a Scotch moor. Do look
+at those ducks, Michael; how angry they are with Booty, and
+how ridiculous they look waddling over those wet stones!'</p>
+
+<p>'I was thinking of something else,' he replied; and his
+tone made Audrey look up rather quickly. 'Do you remember
+your tirade on the subject of single blessedness, my Lady
+Bountiful, and how freedom outbalanced all the delights of
+wedded bliss? I recollect we were on the moors then, and
+Kester was with us, and I took out my pocket-book and wrote
+down the date. Well, I will be magnanimous and not ask an
+awkward question. Six weeks of married life is not such a
+long time, after all.'</p>
+
+<p>But she interrupted him with some impatience:</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, how can you recall such nonsense? But of course
+you are only doing it to tease me. As though I were not
+much happier than I was then!'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you really happier, Audrey&mdash;really and truly, my
+darling?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Michael, what a question! Am I not your wife? Is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">{479}</a></span>
+not that answer enough? Do you think I would change
+places with any other woman in the world, or even with my
+old self?'</p>
+
+<p>And as he looked at her bright face he knew that she was
+speaking the truth, and that Audrey Burnett so loved and
+reverenced her husband that she was likely to be a happier
+woman than Audrey Ross had been.</p>
+
+<h4 class="bgap">THE END</h4>
+
+<h6 class="bgap"><i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">R. &amp; R. Clark, Limited</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</h6>
+
+<hr class="full"/>
+
+<!--Page 1-->
+
+
+
+<h3>MACMILLAN'S<br/>
+THREE-AND-SIXPENNY<br/>
+LIBRARY OF BOOKS<br/>
+BY POPULAR AUTHORS</h3>
+
+<h5>Crown 8vo.</h5>
+
+
+<p><i>This series comprises over four
+hundred volumes in various departments
+of Literature. Prominent among
+them is an attractive edition of</i> The
+Works of Thackeray, <i>issued under the
+editorship of Mr. Lewis Melville. It contains
+all the Original Illustrations, and
+includes a great number of scattered pieces
+and illustrations which have not hitherto
+appeared in any collected edition of the
+works.</i> The Works of Charles Dickens,
+<i>reprinted from the first editions, with all
+the Original Illustrations, and with Introductions,
+Biographical and Bibliographical,
+by Charles Dickens the Younger, and an
+attractive edition of</i> The Novels of Charles
+Lever, <i>illustrated by Phiz and G. Cruikshank,<!--Page 2-->
+have also a place in the Library.
+The attention of book buyers may be especially
+directed to</i> The Border Edition
+of the Waverley Novels, <i>edited by Mr.
+Andrew Lang, which, with its large type
+and convenient form, and its copious illustrations
+by well-known artists, possesses
+features which place it in the forefront of
+editions now obtainable of the famous novels.</i>
+The Works of Mr. Thomas Hardy, <i>including
+the poems, have also been added
+to the Three-and-Sixpenny Library.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Among other works by notable contemporary
+authors will be found those of</i>
+Mr. F. Marion Crawford, Rolf Boldrewood,
+Mr. H.&nbsp;G. Wells, Mrs. Gertrude Atherton,
+Mr. Egerton Castle, Mr. A.&nbsp;E.&nbsp;W. Mason,
+<i>and</i> Miss Rosa Nouchette Carey; <i>while
+among the productions of an earlier period
+may be mentioned the works of</i> Charles
+Kingsley, Frederick Denison Maurice,
+Thomas Hughes, <i>and</i> Dean Farrar; <i>and
+the novels and tales of</i> Charlotte M. Yonge,
+Mrs. Craik, <i>and</i> Mrs. Oliphant.<!--Page 3--></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">THE<br />
+WORKS OF THACKERAY</h3>
+
+<h5><i>Reprints of the First Editions, with all the Original Illustrations,
+and with Facsimiles of Wrappers, etc.</i></h5>
+
+
+<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Macmillan &amp; Co.</span>, Limited, beg leave to invite the
+attention of book buyers to the Edition of <span class="smcap">The Works of
+Thackeray</span> in their Three-and-Sixpenny Library, which is the
+Completest Edition of the Author's Works that has been placed
+on the market.</p>
+
+<p>The Publishers have been fortunate in securing the services of
+Mr. <span class="smcap">Lewis Melville</span>, the well-known Thackeray Expert. With
+his assistance they have been able to include in this Edition a
+great number of scattered pieces from Thackeray's pen, and illustrations
+from his pencil which have not hitherto been contained in
+any collected edition of the works. Mr. Melville has read all
+the sheets as they passed through the press, and collated them
+carefully with the original editions. He has also provided Bibliographical
+Introductions and occasional Footnotes.</p>
+
+
+<h5>List of the Series.</h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p class="noind smcap">vol.</p>
+<ol>
+<li>Vanity Fair. With 190 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>The History of Pendennis. With 180 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>The Newcomes. With 167 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>The History of Henry Esmond.</li>
+
+<li>The Virginians. With 148 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>Barry Lyndon and Catherine. With 4 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>The Paris and Irish Sketch Books, With 63 Illustrations.<!--Page 4--></li>
+
+<li>Christmas Books&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mrs. Perkins's
+Ball</span>: <span class="smcap">Our Street</span>: <span class="smcap">Dr. Birch and his Young
+Friends</span>: <span class="smcap">The Kickleburys on the Rhine</span>: <span class="smcap">The
+Rose and the Ring</span>. With 127 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>Burlesques: From Cornhill to Grand
+Cairo: and Juvenilia. With 84 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>The Book of Snobs, and other Contributions
+to <i>Punch</i>. With 159 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>The Yellowplush Correspondence:
+Jeames's Diary: The Great Hoggarty Diamond: Etc.
+With 47 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>Critical Papers in Literature.</li>
+
+<li>Critical Papers in Art; Stubbs's Calendar:
+Barber Cox. With 99 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>Lovel the Widower, and other Stories.
+With 40 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>The Fitz-Boodle Papers (including
+Men's Wives), and various Articles. 8 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>The English Humourists of the 18th
+Century: The Four Georges: Etc. 45 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>Travels in London: Letters to a Young
+Man about Town: and other Contributions to <i>Punch</i>
+(1845-1850). With 73 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>Ballads and Verses, and Miscellaneous
+Contributions to <i>Punch</i>. With 78 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>A Shabby Genteel Story, and The
+Adventures of Philip. With Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>Roundabout Papers and Denis Duval.
+With Illustrations.</li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+<!--Page 5-->
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">MACMILLAN'S</h4>
+<h3>EDITION OF THACKERAY</h3>
+
+
+<h5>SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</h5>
+
+<p><i>EXPOSITORY TIMES.</i>&mdash;"An edition to do credit even to this
+publishing house, and not likely to be surpassed until they surpass it with
+a cheaper and better themselves."</p>
+
+<p><i>WHITEHALL REVIEW.</i>&mdash;"Never before has such a cheap and
+excellent edition of Thackeray been seen."</p>
+
+<p><i>ACADEMY.</i>&mdash;"A better one-volume edition at three shillings and
+sixpence could not be desired."</p>
+
+<p><i>GRAPHIC.</i>&mdash;"In its plain but pretty blue binding is both serviceable
+and attractive."</p>
+
+<p><i>DAILY GRAPHIC.</i>&mdash;"An excellent, cheap reprint."</p>
+
+<p><i>PALL MALL GAZETTE.</i>&mdash;"The size of the books is handy, paper
+and printing are good, and the binding, which is of blue cloth, is simple
+but tasteful. Altogether the publishers are to be congratulated upon a
+reprint which ought to be popular."</p>
+
+<p><i>GLOBE.</i>&mdash;"The paper is thin but good, the type used is clear to read,
+and the binding is neat and effective."</p>
+
+<p><i>LADY'S PICTORIAL.</i>&mdash;"The paper is good, the type clear and
+large, and the binding tasteful. Messrs. Macmillan are to be thanked for
+so admirable and inexpensive an edition of our great satirist."</p>
+
+<p><i>WORLD.</i>&mdash;"Nothing could be better than the new edition."</p>
+
+<p><i>BLACK AND WHITE.</i>&mdash;"The more one sees of the edition the
+more enamoured of it he becomes. It is so good and neat, immaculate as
+to print, and admirably bound."</p>
+
+<p><i>SCOTSMAN.</i>&mdash;"This admirable edition."</p>
+
+<p><i>LITERARY WORLD.</i>&mdash;"The paper and printing and general get
+up are everything that one could desire."</p>
+
+<p><i>ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.</i>&mdash;"A clear and pretty edition."<!--Page 6--></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">THE</h4>
+<h3>WORKS OF DICKENS</h3>
+
+<h5>Reprints of the First Editions, with all the original Illustrations,
+and with Introductions, Biographical and Bibliographical,
+by <span class="smcap">Charles Dickens</span> the Younger.</h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ol>
+<li>THE PICKWICK PAPERS. With 50 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>OLIVER TWIST. With 27 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. With 44 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. With 41 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. With 97
+Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>BARNABY RUDGE. With 76 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>DOMBEY AND SON. With 40 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>CHRISTMAS BOOKS. With 65 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>SKETCHES BY BOZ. With 44 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>DAVID COPPERFIELD. With 40 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>AMERICAN NOTES <span class="smcap">and</span> PICTURES FROM
+ITALY. With 4 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>THE LETTERS OF CHARLES DICKENS.</li>
+
+<li>BLEAK HOUSE. With 43 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>LITTLE DORRIT. With 40 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>A TALE OF TWO CITIES. With 15 Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>GREAT EXPECTATIONS; <span class="smcap">and</span> HARD
+TIMES.</li>
+
+<li>OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. With 40 Illustrations.<!--Page 7--></li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+<h4 class="gap">MACMILLAN'S</h4>
+<h3>EDITION OF DICKENS</h3>
+
+
+<h5>SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</h5>
+
+<p><i>ATHEN&AElig;UM.</i>&mdash;"Handy in form, well printed, illustrated with
+reduced reproductions of the original plates, introduced with bibliographical
+notes by the novelist's son, and above all issued at a most moderate
+price, this edition will appeal successfully to a large number of readers."</p>
+
+<p><i>SPEAKER.</i>&mdash;"We do not think there exists a better edition."</p>
+
+<p><i>MORNING POST.</i>&mdash;"The edition will be highly appreciated."</p>
+
+<p><i>SCOTSMAN.</i>&mdash;"This reprint offers peculiar attractions. Of a handy
+size, in one volume, of clear, good-sized print, and with its capital comic
+illustrations, it is a volume to be desired."</p>
+
+<p><i>NEWCASTLE CHRONICLE.</i>&mdash;"The most satisfactory edition of
+the book that has been issued."</p>
+
+<p><i>GLASGOW HERALD.</i>&mdash;"None of the recent editions of Dickens
+can be compared with that which Messrs. Macmillan inaugurate with the
+issue of <i>Pickwick</i>.... Printed in a large, clear type, very readable."</p>
+
+<p><i>GLOBE.</i>&mdash;"They have used an admirably clear type and good paper,
+and the binding is unexceptionable.... May be selected as the most
+desirable cheap edition of the immortal 'Papers' that has ever been offered
+to the public."</p>
+
+<p><i>MANCHESTER EXAMINER.</i>&mdash;"These volumes have a unique
+interest, for with each there is the story of its origin."</p>
+
+<p><i>QUEEN.</i>&mdash;"A specially pleasant and convenient form in which to
+re-read Dickens."</p>
+
+<p><i>STAR.</i>&mdash;"This new 'Dickens Series,' with its reproductions of the
+original illustrations, is a joy to the possessor."<!--Page 8--></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h6 class="dgap"><i>Complete in Twenty-four Volumes. Crown 8vo, tastefully bound in
+green cloth, gilt. Price 3s. 6d. each.</i></h6>
+
+<h6><i>In special cloth binding, flat backs, gilt tops. Supplied in Sets only of
+24 volumes. Price &pound;4 4s.</i></h6>
+
+<h6><i>Also an edition with all the 250 original etchings. In 24 volumes.
+Crown 8vo, gilt tops. Price 6s. each.</i></h6>
+
+<h4>THE LARGE TYPE<br />
+BORDER EDITION OF THE</h4>
+<h3>WAVERLEY NOVELS</h3>
+
+<h6>EDITED WITH</h6>
+<h5><i>INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS AND NOTES</i></h5>
+<h6>BY</h6>
+<h4>ANDREW LANG</h4>
+<h5>SUPPLEMENTING THOSE OF THE AUTHOR.</h5>
+
+<h6><i>With Two Hundred and Fifty New and Original Illustrations by
+Eminent Artists.</i></h6>
+
+
+<p>By the kind permission of the Hon. Mrs. <span class="smcap">Maxwell-Scott</span>,
+of Abbotsford, the great-granddaughter of Sir <span class="smcap">Walter</span>,
+the MSS. and other material at Abbotsford were examined by
+Mr. <span class="smcap">Andrew Lang</span> during the preparation of his Introductory
+Essays and Notes to the Series, so that the <span class="smcap">Border Edition</span>
+may be said to contain all the results of the latest researches
+as to the composition of the Waverley Novels.<!--Page 9--></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">The Border Waverley</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ol>
+<li><span class="smcap">Waverley.</span> With 12 Illustrations by Sir <span class="smcap">H. Raeburn</span>,
+R.A., <span class="smcap">R.&nbsp;W. Macbeth</span>, A.R.A., <span class="smcap">John Pettie</span>, R.A.,
+<span class="smcap">H. Macbeth-Raeburn</span>, <span class="smcap">D. Herdman</span>, <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Leitch</span>,
+<span class="smcap">Robert Herdman</span>, R.S.A., and <span class="smcap">J. Eckford Lauder</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Guy Mannering.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J.
+MacWhirter</span>, A.R.A., <span class="smcap">R.&nbsp;W. Macbeth</span>, A.R.A., <span class="smcap">C.&nbsp;O.
+Murray</span>, <span class="smcap">Clark Stanton</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">Gourlay Steell</span>,
+R.S.A., <span class="smcap">F.&nbsp;S. Walker</span>, <span class="smcap">R. Herdman</span>, R.S.A., and <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;B.
+Macdonald</span>, A.R.S.A.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Antiquary.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J.
+MacWhirter</span>, A.R.A., <span class="smcap">Sam Bough</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">R. Herdman</span>,
+R.S.A., <span class="smcap">W. M'Taggart</span>, A.R.S.A., <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;B. Macdonald</span>,
+A.R.S.A., and <span class="smcap">A.&nbsp;H. Tourrier</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Rob Roy.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">R.&nbsp;W. Macbeth</span>,
+A.R.A., and <span class="smcap">Sam Bough</span>, R.S.A.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Old Mortality.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J. MacWhirter</span>,
+A.R.A., <span class="smcap">R. Herdman</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">Sam Bough</span>,
+R.S.A., <span class="smcap">M.&nbsp;L. Gow</span>, <span class="smcap">D.&nbsp;Y. Cameron</span>, <span class="smcap">Lockhart Bogle</span>,
+and <span class="smcap">Alfred Hartley</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Heart of Midlothian.</span> With 10 Illustrations
+by Sir <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;E. Millais</span>, Bart., <span class="smcap">Hugh Cameron</span>, R.S.A.,
+<span class="smcap">Sam Bough</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">R. Herdman</span>, R.S.A., and <span class="smcap">Wal.
+Paget</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">A Legend of Montrose</span> and <span class="smcap">The Black Dwarf</span>.
+With 7 Illustrations by Sir <span class="smcap">George Reid</span>, P.R.S.A.,
+<span class="smcap">George Hay</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">Horatio MacCulloch</span>, R.S.A.,
+<span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;E. Lockhart</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">H. Macbeth-Raeburn</span>, and
+<span class="smcap">T. Scott</span></li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Bride of Lammermoor.</span> With 8 Illustrations
+by Sir <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;E. Millais</span>, Bart., <span class="smcap">John Smart</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">Sam
+Bough</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">George Hay</span>, R.S.A., and <span class="smcap">H. Macbeth-Raeburn</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Ivanhoe.</span> With 12 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Ad. Lalauze</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Monastery.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon
+Browne</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Abbot.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon
+Browne</span>.<!--Page 10--></li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Kenilworth.</span> With 12 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Ad.
+Lalauze</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Pirate.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;E.
+Lockhart</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">Sam Bough</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">Herbert
+Dicksee</span>, <span class="smcap">W. Strang</span>, <span class="smcap">Lockhart Bogle</span>, <span class="smcap">C.&nbsp;J. Holmes</span>,
+and <span class="smcap">F.&nbsp;S. Walker</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Fortunes of Nigel.</span> With 10 Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">John Pettie</span>, R.A., and <span class="smcap">R.&nbsp;W. Macbeth</span>, A.R.A.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Peveril of the Peak.</span> With 15 Illustrations by
+<span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;Q. Orchardson</span>, R.A., <span class="smcap">John Pettie</span>, R.A., <span class="smcap">F. Dadd</span>,
+R.I., <span class="smcap">Arthur Hopkins</span>, A.R.W.S., and <span class="smcap">S.&nbsp;L. Wood</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Quentin Durward.</span> With 12 Illustrations by
+<span class="smcap">Ad. Lalauze</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">St. Ronan's Well.</span> With 10 Illustrations by Sir
+<span class="smcap">G. Reid</span>, P.R.S.A., <span class="smcap">R.&nbsp;W. Macbeth</span>, A.R.A., <span class="smcap">W. Hole</span>,
+R.S.A., and <span class="smcap">A. Forestier</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Redgauntlet.</span> With 12 Illustrations by Sir <span class="smcap">James
+D. Linton</span>, P.R.I., <span class="smcap">James Orrock</span>, R.I., <span class="smcap">Sam Bough</span>,
+R.S.A., <span class="smcap">W. Hole</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">G. Hay</span>, R.S.A., <span class="smcap">T. Scott</span>,
+A.R.S.A., <span class="smcap">W. Boucher</span>, and <span class="smcap">Frank Short</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Betrothed</span> and <span class="smcap">The Talisman</span>. With 10
+Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Herbert Dicksee</span>, <span class="smcap">Wal. Paget</span>, and
+<span class="smcap">J. Le Blant</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Woodstock.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. Hole</span>,
+R.S.A.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">The Fair Maid of Perth.</span> With 10 Illustrations
+by Sir <span class="smcap">G. Reid</span>, P.R.S.A., <span class="smcap">John Pettie</span>, R.A., <span class="smcap">R.&nbsp;W.
+Macbeth</span>, A.R.A., and <span class="smcap">Robert Herdman</span>, R.S.A.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Anne of Geierstein.</span> With 10 Illustrations by
+<span class="smcap">R. de Los Rios</span>.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Count Robert of Paris</span> and <span class="smcap">The Surgeon's
+Daughter</span>. With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. Hatherell</span>,
+R.I., and <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;B. Wollen</span>, R.I.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Castle Dangerous, Chronicles of the Canongate,
+etc.</span> With 10 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">H. Macbeth-Raeburn</span>
+and <span class="smcap">G.&nbsp;D. Armour</span>.<!--Page 11--></li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+<h3 class="gap">The Border Waverley</h3>
+
+<h5>SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</h5>
+
+<p><i>TIMES.</i>&mdash;"It would be difficult to find in these days a more competent
+and sympathetic editor of Scott than his countryman, the brilliant
+and versatile man of letters who has undertaken the task, and if any proof
+were wanted either of his qualifications or of his skill and discretion in
+displaying them, Mr. Lang has furnished it abundantly in his charming
+Introduction to 'Waverley.' The editor's own notes are judiciously sparing,
+but conspicuously to the point, and they are very discreetly separated from
+those of the author, Mr. Lang's laudable purpose being to illustrate and
+explain Scott, not to make the notes a pretext for displaying his own
+critical faculty and literary erudition. The illustrations by various competent
+hands are beautiful in themselves and beautifully executed, and, altogether,
+the 'Border Edition' of the Waverley Novels bids fair to become the
+classical edition of the great Scottish classic."</p>
+
+<p><i>SPECTATOR.</i>&mdash;"We trust that this fine edition of our greatest and
+most poetical of novelists will attain, if it has not already done so, the high
+popularity it deserves. To all Scott's lovers it is a pleasure to know that,
+despite the daily and weekly inrush of ephemeral fiction, the sale of his
+works is said by the booksellers to rank next below Tennyson's in poetry,
+and above that of everybody else in prose."</p>
+
+<p><i>ATHEN&AElig;UM.</i>&mdash;"The handsome 'Border Edition' has been brought
+to a successful conclusion. The publisher deserves to be complimented
+on the manner in which the edition has been printed and illustrated, and
+Mr. Lang on the way in which he has performed his portion of the work.
+His introductions have been tasteful and readable; he has not overdone
+his part; and, while he has supplied much useful information, he has by no
+means overburdened the volumes with notes."</p>
+
+<p><i>NOTES AND QUERIES.</i>&mdash;"This spirited and ambitious enterprise
+has been conducted to a safe termination, and the most ideal edition of the
+Waverley Novels in existence is now completed."</p>
+
+<p><i>SATURDAY REVIEW.</i>&mdash;"Of all the many collections of the
+Waverley Novels, the 'Border Edition' is incomparably the most handsome
+and the most desirable.... Type, paper, illustrations, are altogether
+admirable."</p>
+
+<p><i>MAGAZINE OF ART.</i>&mdash;"Size, type, paper, and printing, to say
+nothing of the excessively liberal and charming introduction of the illustrations,
+make this perhaps the most desirable edition of Scott ever issued on
+this side of the Border."</p>
+
+<p><i>DAILY CHRONICLE.</i>&mdash;"There is absolutely no fault to be found
+with it, as to paper, type, or arrangement."<!--Page 12--></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">THE WORKS OF</h4>
+<h3>THOMAS HARDY</h3>
+
+<h5>Collected Edition</h5>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ol>
+<li>TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES.</li>
+
+<li>FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD.</li>
+
+<li>THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE.</li>
+
+<li>A PAIR OF BLUE EYES.</li>
+
+<li>TWO ON A TOWER.</li>
+
+<li>THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE.</li>
+
+<li>THE WOODLANDERS.</li>
+
+<li>JUDE THE OBSCURE.</li>
+
+<li>THE TRUMPET-MAJOR.</li>
+
+<li>THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA.</li>
+
+<li>A LAODICEAN.</li>
+
+<li>DESPERATE REMEDIES.</li>
+
+<li>WESSEX TALES.</li>
+
+<li>LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES.</li>
+
+<li>A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES.</li>
+
+<li>UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE.</li>
+
+<li>THE WELL-BELOVED.</li>
+
+<li>WESSEX POEMS, and other Verses.</li>
+
+<li>POEMS OF THE PAST <span class="smcap">and</span> THE PRESENT.</li>
+
+<li>A CHANGED MAN, THE WAITING SUPPER,
+and other Tales.<!--Page 13--></li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">THE WORKS OF</h4>
+<h3>CHARLES KINGSLEY</h3>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>WESTWARD HO!</li>
+
+<li>HYPATIA; or, New Foes with an old Face.</li>
+
+<li>TWO YEARS AGO.</li>
+
+<li>ALTON LOCKE, Tailor and Poet. An Autobiography.</li>
+
+<li>HEREWARD THE WAKE, "Last of the English."</li>
+
+<li>YEAST: A Problem.</li>
+
+<li>POEMS: including The Saint's Tragedy, Andromeda, Songs,
+Ballads, etc.</li>
+
+<li>THE WATER-BABIES: A Fairy Tale for a Land-Baby. With
+Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Linley Sambourne</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE HEROES; or, Greek Fairy Tales for my Children. With
+Illustrations by the Author.</li>
+
+<li>GLAUCUS; or, The Wonders of the Shore. With Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY; or, First Lessons in
+Earth Lore for Children. With Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>AT LAST. A Christmas in the West Indies. With Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>THE HERMITS.</li>
+
+<li>HISTORICAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.</li>
+
+<li>PLAYS AND PURITANS, and other Historical Essays.</li>
+
+<li>THE ROMAN AND THE TEUTON.</li>
+
+<li>PROSE IDYLLS, New and Old.</li>
+
+<li>SANITARY AND SOCIAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.</li>
+
+<li>LITERARY AND GENERAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.</li>
+
+<li>ALL SAINTS' DAY: and other Sermons.</li>
+
+<li>DISCIPLINE: and other Sermons.</li>
+
+<li>THE GOOD NEWS OF GOD. Sermons.</li>
+
+<li>GOSPEL OF THE PENTATEUCH.</li>
+
+<li>SERMONS FOR THE TIMES.</li>
+
+<li>VILLAGE SERMONS, AND TOWN AND COUNTRY
+SERMONS.</li>
+
+<li>WESTMINSTER SERMONS.<!--Page 14--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">THE NOVELS</h4>
+<h5>OF</h5>
+<h3>F. MARION CRAWFORD</h3>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ol>
+<li>MR. ISAACS: A Tale of Modern India.</li>
+
+<li>DOCTOR CLAUDIUS: A True Story.</li>
+
+<li>A ROMAN SINGER.</li>
+
+<li>ZOROASTER.</li>
+
+<li>MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX.</li>
+
+<li>A TALE OF A LONELY PARISH.</li>
+
+<li>PAUL PATOFF.</li>
+
+<li>WITH THE IMMORTALS.</li>
+
+<li>GREIFENSTEIN.</li>
+
+<li>TAQUISARA: A Novel.</li>
+
+<li>A ROSE OF YESTERDAY.</li>
+
+<li>SANT' ILARIO.</li>
+
+<li>A CIGARETTE-MAKER'S ROMANCE.</li>
+
+<li>KHALED: A Tale of Arabia.</li>
+
+<li>THE THREE FATES.</li>
+
+<li>THE WITCH OF PRAGUE.</li>
+
+<li>MARION DARCHE: A Story without Comment.</li>
+
+<li>KATHARINE LAUDERDALE.<!--Page 15--></li>
+
+<li>THE CHILDREN OF THE KING.</li>
+
+<li>PIETRO GHISLERI.</li>
+
+<li>DON ORSINO.</li>
+
+<li>CASA BRACCIO.</li>
+
+<li>ADAM JOHNSTONE'S SON.</li>
+
+<li>THE RALSTONS.</li>
+
+<li>CORLEONE: A Tale of Sicily.</li>
+
+<li>VIA CRUCIS: A Romance of the Second Crusade.</li>
+
+<li>IN THE PALACE OF THE KING: A Love
+Story of Old Madrid.</li>
+
+<li>CECILIA: A Story of Modern Rome.</li>
+
+<li>MARIETTA: A Maid of Venice.</li>
+
+<li>THE HEART OF ROME.</li>
+
+<li>SOPRANO: A Portrait.</li>
+
+<li>THE PRIMADONNA.</li>
+
+<li>THE DIVA'S RUBY.</li>
+
+<li>"WHOSOEVER SHALL OFFEND&mdash;&mdash;"</li>
+
+<li>A LADY OF ROME.</li>
+
+<li>ARETHUSA.</li>
+
+<li>THE WHITE SISTER.</li>
+
+<li>STRADELLA: An Old Italian Love Tale.<!--Page 16--></li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h4>THE NOVELS</h4>
+<h5>OF</h5>
+<h3>ROLF BOLDREWOOD</h3>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ol>
+<li>ROBBERY UNDER ARMS: A Story of Life
+and Adventure in the Bush and in the Gold-fields
+of Australia.</li>
+
+<li>A MODERN BUCCANEER.</li>
+
+<li>THE MINER'S RIGHT: A Tale of the Australian
+Gold-fields.</li>
+
+<li>THE SQUATTER'S DREAM.</li>
+
+<li>A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON.</li>
+
+<li>A COLONIAL REFORMER.</li>
+
+<li>NEVERMORE.</li>
+
+<li>PLAIN LIVING: A Bush Idyll.</li>
+
+<li>MY RUN HOME.</li>
+
+<li>THE CROOKED STICK; or, Pollie's Probation.</li>
+
+<li>OLD MELBOURNE MEMORIES.</li>
+
+<li>WAR TO THE KNIFE; or, Tangata Maori.</li>
+
+<li>BABES IN THE BUSH.</li>
+
+<li>IN BAD COMPANY, and other Stories.<!--Page 17--></li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By H. G. WELLS</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>THE PLATTNER STORY: and others.</li>
+
+<li>TALES OF SPACE AND TIME.</li>
+
+<li>THE STOLEN BACILLUS: and other Incidents.</li>
+
+<li>THE INVISIBLE MAN. A Grotesque Romance.</li>
+
+<li>LOVE AND MR. LEWISHAM. A Story of a very
+Young Couple.</li>
+
+<li>WHEN THE SLEEPER WAKES.</li>
+
+<li>THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON.</li>
+
+<li>TWELVE STORIES AND A DREAM.</li>
+
+<li>THE FOOD OF THE GODS AND HOW IT CAME TO EARTH.</li>
+
+<li>KIPPS: The Story of a Simple Soul.</li>
+
+<li>IN THE DAYS OF THE COMET.</li>
+
+<li>TONO-BUNGAY.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By A. E. W. MASON</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER.</li>
+
+<li>THE PHILANDERERS.</li>
+
+<li>MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By EGERTON CASTLE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>"LA BELLA": and others.</li>
+
+<li>MARSHFIELD THE OBSERVER.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>THE BATH COMEDY.<!--Page 18--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">THE NOVELS OF</h4>
+<h3>ROSA N. CAREY</h3>
+
+
+
+<p><i>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.</i>&mdash;"A clever delineator of character, possessed of a
+reserve of strength in a quiet, easy, flowing style, Miss Carey never fails to please a large
+class of readers."</p>
+
+<p><i>STANDARD.</i>&mdash;"Miss Carey has the gift of writing naturally and simply, her pathos
+is true and unforced, and her conversations are sprightly and sharp."</p>
+
+<p><i>LADY.</i>&mdash;"Miss Carey's novels are always welcome; they are out of the common run,
+immaculately pure, and very high in tone."</p>
+
+
+<h5><b>Nearly 800,000 of these works have been printed.</b></h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ol>
+<li>NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 58th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>WEE WIFIE. 42nd Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>BARBARA HEATHCOTE'S TRIAL. 35th
+Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>ROBERT ORD'S ATONEMENT. 30th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>WOOED AND MARRIED. 40th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>HERIOT'S CHOICE. 29th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>QUEENIE'S WHIM. 34th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS. 43rd Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>MARY ST JOHN. 27th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>FOR LILIAS. 26th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>UNCLE MAX. 36th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>RUE WITH A DIFFERENCE. 24th Thousand.<!--Page 19--></li>
+
+<li>THE HIGHWAY OF FATE. 25th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>ONLY THE GOVERNESS. 40th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>LOVER OR FRIEND? 31st Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>BASIL LYNDHURST. 26th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS.
+27th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>THE OLD, OLD STORY. 30th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>THE MISTRESS OF BRAE FARM. 32nd
+Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>MRS. ROMNEY and "BUT MEN MUST
+WORK." 14th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES. 5th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>HERB OF GRACE. 27th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>A PASSAGE PERILOUS. 25th Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>AT THE MOORINGS. 21st Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>THE HOUSEHOLD OF PETER. 23rd Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>NO FRIEND LIKE A SISTER. 21st Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>THE ANGEL OF FORGIVENESS. 20th
+Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE HILL. 18th
+Thousand.</li>
+
+<li>THE KEY OF THE UNKNOWN. 17th
+Thousand.<!--Page 20--></li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">THE NOVELS AND TALES OF</h4>
+<h3>CHARLOTTE M. YONGE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Kate
+Greenaway</span>.</li>
+
+<li>HEARTSEASE; or, the Brother's Wife. New Edition. With
+Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Kate Greenaway</span>.</li>
+
+<li>DYNEVOR TERRACE; or, the Clue of Life. With Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">Adrian Stokes</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE DAISY CHAIN; or, Aspirations. A Family Chronicle.
+With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;P. Atkinson</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE TRIAL: More Links of the Daisy Chain. With Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;P. Atkinson</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE PILLARS OF THE HOUSE; or, Under Wode, under
+Rode. Two Vols. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Herbert Gandy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE YOUNG STEPMOTHER; or, a Chronicle of Mistakes.
+With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Marian Huxley</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. With Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">Adrian Stokes</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE THREE BRIDES. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Adrian Stokes</span>.</li>
+
+<li>MY YOUNG ALCIDES: A Faded Photograph. With Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">Adrian Stokes</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAGED LION. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE DOVE IN THE EAGLE'S NEST. With Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THE CHAPLET OF PEARLS; or, the White and Black
+Ribaumont. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>LADY HESTER; or, Ursula's Narrative; and THE DANVERS
+PAPERS. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Jane E. Cook</span>.</li>
+
+<li>MAGNUM BONUM; or, Mother Carey's Brood. With Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>LOVE AND LIFE: an Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume.
+With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>UNKNOWN TO HISTORY. A Story of the Captivity of Mary
+of Scotland. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.<!--Page 21--></li>
+
+<li>THE ARMOURER'S 'PRENTICES. With Illustrations by
+<span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>SCENES AND CHARACTERS; or, Eighteen Months at
+Beechcroft. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>CHANTRY HOUSE. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>A MODERN TELEMACHUS. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J.
+Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>BYWORDS. A collection of Tales new and old.</li>
+
+<li>BEECHCROFT AT ROCKSTONE.</li>
+
+<li>MORE BYWORDS.</li>
+
+<li>A REPUTED CHANGELING; or, Three Seventh Years Two
+Centuries Ago.</li>
+
+<li>THE LITTLE DUKE, RICHARD THE FEARLESS. With
+Illustrations.</li>
+
+<li>THE LANCES OF LYNWOOD. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;B.</span></li>
+
+<li>THE PRINCE AND THE PAGE: A Story of the Last Crusade.
+With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Adrian Stokes</span>.</li>
+
+<li>TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES. With Illustrations by
+<span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.</li>
+
+<li>THAT STICK.</li>
+
+<li>AN OLD WOMAN'S OUTLOOK IN A HAMPSHIRE
+VILLAGE.</li>
+
+<li>GRISLY GRISELL; or, The Laidly Lady of Whitburn. A Tale
+of the Wars of the Roses.</li>
+
+<li>HENRIETTA'S WISH. Second Edition.</li>
+
+<li>THE LONG VACATION.</li>
+
+<li>THE RELEASE; or, Caroline's French Kindred.</li>
+
+<li>THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE BEN BERIAH.</li>
+
+<li>THE TWO GUARDIANS; or, Home in this World. Second
+Edition.</li>
+
+<li>COUNTESS KATE AND THE STOKESLEY SECRET.</li>
+
+<li>MODERN BROODS; or, Developments Unlooked for.</li>
+
+<li>STROLLING PLAYERS: A Harmony of Contrasts. By <span class="smcap">C.&nbsp;M.
+Yonge</span> and <span class="smcap">C.&nbsp;R. Coleridge</span>.</li>
+
+<li>STRAY PEARLS. Memoirs of Margaret de Ribaumont, Viscountess
+of Bellaise. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J. Hennessy</span>.<!--Page 22--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">Works by Mrs. Craik</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><b>Olive</b>: A Novel. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">G. Bowers</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Agatha's Husband</b>: A Novel. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Walter Crane</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>The Head of the Family</b>: A Novel. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Walter Crane</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Two Marriages.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>The Laurel Bush.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>King Arthur: Not a Love Story.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>About Money, and other Things.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>Concerning Men, and other Papers.</b></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">Works by Mrs. Oliphant</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><b>Neighbours on the Green.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>Kirsteen</b>: the Story of a Scotch Family Seventy Years Ago.</li>
+
+<li><b>A Beleaguered City</b>: A Story of the Seen and the Unseen.</li>
+
+<li><b>Hester</b>: a Story of Contemporary Life.</li>
+
+<li><b>He that Will Not when He May.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>The Railway Man and his Children.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>The Marriage of Elinor.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>Sir Tom.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>The Heir-Presumptive and the Heir-Apparent.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>A Country Gentleman and his Family.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>A Son of the Soil.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>The Second Son.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>The Wizard's Son</b>: A Novel.</li>
+
+<li><b>Lady William.</b></li>
+
+<li><b>Young Musgrave.</b><!--Page 23--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">The Works of Dean Farrar</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>SEEKERS AFTER GOD. The Lives of Seneca, Epictetus, and
+Marcus Aurelius.</li>
+
+<li>ETERNAL HOPE. Sermons preached in Westminster Abbey.</li>
+
+<li>THE WITNESS OF HISTORY TO CHRIST.</li>
+
+<li>THE SILENCE AND VOICES OF GOD, with other Sermons.</li>
+
+<li>"IN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH." Sermons on Practical
+Subjects.</li>
+
+<li>SAINTLY WORKERS. Five Lenten Lectures.</li>
+
+<li>EPHPHATHA; or, the Amelioration of the World.</li>
+
+<li>MERCY AND JUDGMENT: a few last words on Christian
+Eschatology.</li>
+
+<li>SERMONS &amp; ADDRESSES DELIVERED IN AMERICA.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">THE WORKS OF</h4>
+<h3>Frederick Denison Maurice</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>SERMONS PREACHED IN LINCOLN'S INN CHAPEL.
+In five vols.</li>
+
+<li>SERMONS PREACHED IN COUNTRY CHURCHES.</li>
+
+<li>CHRISTMAS DAY: and other Sermons.</li>
+
+<li>THEOLOGICAL ESSAYS.</li>
+
+<li>THE PROPHETS <span class="smcap">and</span> KINGS <span class="smcap">of the</span> OLD TESTAMENT.</li>
+
+<li>THE PATRIARCHS AND LAWGIVERS OF THE OLD
+TESTAMENT.</li>
+
+<li>THE GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN.</li>
+
+<li>THE EPISTLES OF ST. JOHN.</li>
+
+<li>THE FRIENDSHIP OF BOOKS: and other Lectures.</li>
+
+<li>THE PRAYER BOOK AND THE LORD'S PRAYER.</li>
+
+<li>THE DOCTRINE OF SACRIFICE. Deduced from the
+Scriptures.</li>
+
+<li>THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES.</li>
+
+<li>THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST; or, Hints to a Quaker respecting
+the Principles, Constitution, and Ordinances of the
+Catholic Church. 2 vols.<!--Page 24--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By J. H. SHORTHOUSE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>JOHN INGLESANT: A Romance.</li>
+
+<li>SIR PERCIVAL: a Story of the Past and of the Present.</li>
+
+<li>THE LITTLE SCHOOLMASTER MARK.</li>
+
+<li>THE COUNTESS EVE.</li>
+
+<li>A TEACHER OF THE VIOLIN.</li>
+
+<li>BLANCHE, LADY FALAISE.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By GERTRUDE ATHERTON</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>A DAUGHTER OF THE VINE.</li>
+
+<li>THE CALIFORNIANS.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By HUGH CONWAY</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>A FAMILY AFFAIR.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By W. CLARK RUSSELL</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>MAROONED.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By ANNIE KEARY</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>A YORK AND A LANCASTER ROSE.</li>
+
+<li>CASTLE DALY: the Story of an Irish Home thirty
+years ago.</li>
+
+<li>JANET'S HOME.</li>
+
+<li>A DOUBTING HEART.</li>
+
+<li>THE NATIONS AROUND ISRAEL.</li>
+
+<li>OLDBURY.<!--Page 25--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By GEORGE BORROW</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>LAVENGRO.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By THOMAS HUGHES</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>TOM BROWN'S SCHOOLDAYS.</li>
+
+<li>TOM BROWN AT OXFORD.</li>
+
+<li>THE SCOURING OF THE WHITE HORSE.</li>
+
+<li>ALFRED THE GREAT.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By ARCHIBALD FORBES</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>BARRACKS, BIVOUACS, AND BATTLES.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By MONTAGU WILLIAMS</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>LEAVES OF A LIFE.</li>
+
+<li>ROUND LONDON.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By E. WERNER</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>FICKLE FORTUNE.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By W. E. NORRIS</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>THIRLBY HALL.</li>
+
+<li>A BACHELOR'S BLUNDER.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">The Works of SHAKESPEARE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>VICTORIA EDITION. In Three Volumes.
+Vol. I. <span class="smcap">Comedies.</span> Vol. II. <span class="smcap">Histories.</span> Vol. III. <span class="smcap">Tragedies.</span><!--Page 26--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h4 class="gap">UNIFORM EDITION OF THE</h4>
+<h3>NOVELS OF CHARLES LEVER</h3>
+
+<h5>With all the Original Illustrations.</h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ol>
+<li>HARRY LORREQUER. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Phiz</span>.</li>
+
+<li>CHARLES O'MALLEY. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Phiz</span>.</li>
+
+<li>JACK HINTON THE GUARDSMAN. Illustrated
+by <span class="smcap">Phiz</span>.</li>
+
+<li>TOM BURKE OF OURS. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Phiz</span>.</li>
+
+<li>ARTHUR O'LEARY. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">G. Cruikshank</span>.</li>
+
+<li>LORD KILGOBBIN. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Luke Fildes</span>.</li>
+</ol>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By W. WARDE FOWLER</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>A YEAR WITH THE BIRDS. Illustrated.</li>
+
+<li>TALES OF THE BIRDS. Illustrated.</li>
+
+<li>MORE TALES OF THE BIRDS. Illustrated.</li>
+
+<li>SUMMER STUDIES OF BIRDS AND BOOKS.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">By FRANK BUCKLAND</h3>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>CURIOSITIES OF NATURAL HISTORY. Illustrated.
+In four volumes:</li>
+<li>
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><span class="smcap">First Series</span>&mdash;Rats, Serpents, Fishes, Frogs, Monkeys, etc.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Second Series</span>&mdash;Fossils, Bears, Wolves, Cats, Eagles, Hedgehogs,
+Eels, Herrings, Whales.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Third Series</span>&mdash;Wild Ducks, Fishing, Lions, Tigers, Foxes,
+Porpoises.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fourth Series</span>&mdash;Giants, Mummies, Mermaids, Wonderful
+People, Salmon, etc.<!--Page 27--></p>
+</div>
+</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<h3 class="gap">Works by Various Authors</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li>Hogan, M. P.</li>
+
+<li>Flitters, Tatters, and the Counsello</li>
+
+<li>The New Antigone</li>
+
+<li>Memories of Father Healy</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Canon ATKINSON.</span>&mdash;The Last of the Giant Killers</li>
+
+<li>&mdash;&mdash; Playhours and Half-Holidays; or, further Experiences
+of Two Schoolboys</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Sir</span> S. BAKER.&mdash;True Tales for my Grandsons</li>
+
+<li>R. H. BARHAM.&mdash;The Ingoldsby Legends</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Rev.</span> R. H. D. BARHAM.&mdash;Life of Theodore Hook</li>
+
+<li>BLENNERHASSET <span class="smcap">and</span> SLEEMAN.&mdash;Adventures in Mashonaland</li>
+
+<li>LANOE FALCONER.&mdash;Cecilia de No&euml;l</li>
+
+<li>W. FORBES-MITCHELL.&mdash;Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Rev.</span> J. GILMORE.&mdash;Storm Warriors</li>
+
+<li>MARY LINSKILL.&mdash;Tales of the North Riding</li>
+
+<li>S. R. LYSAGHT.&mdash;The Marplot</li>
+
+<li>&mdash;&mdash; One of the Grenvilles</li>
+
+<li>M. M'LENNAN.&mdash;Muckle Jock, and other Stories</li>
+
+<li>G. MASSON.&mdash;A Compendious Dictionary of the French
+Language</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Major</span> GAMBIER PARRY.&mdash;The Story of Dick</li>
+
+<li>E. C. PRICE.&mdash;In the Lion's Mouth</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Lord</span> REDESDALE.&mdash;Tales of Old Japan</li>
+
+<li>W. C. RHOADES.&mdash;John Trevennick</li>
+
+<li>MARCHESA THEODOLI.&mdash;Under Pressure</li>
+
+<li>ANTHONY TROLLOPE.&mdash;The Three Clerks</li>
+
+<li>CHARLES WHITEHEAD.&mdash;Richard Savage<!--Page 28--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h3>ENGLISH<br />
+MEN OF LETTERS</h3>
+
+<h5><span class="smcap">Edited by JOHN MORLEY.</span></h5>
+
+<h6><i>Arranged in 12 Volumes, each containing the Lives of three Authors.</i></h6>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><b>Chaucer.</b> By Dr. <span class="smcap">A. W. Ward</span>. <b>Spenser.</b> By Dean
+<span class="smcap">Church</span>. <b>Dryden.</b> By Prof. <span class="smcap">Saintsbury</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Milton.</b> By <span class="smcap">Mark Pattison</span>. <b>Goldsmith.</b> By <span class="smcap">W. Black</span>.
+<b>Cowper.</b> By <span class="smcap">Goldwin Smith</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Byron.</b> By Professor <span class="smcap">Nichol</span>. <b>Shelley.</b> By <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;A. Symonds</span>.
+<b>Keats.</b> By <span class="smcap">Sidney Colvin</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Charles Lamb.</b> By Canon <span class="smcap">Ainger</span>. <b>Addison.</b> By <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;J.
+Courthope</span>. <b>Swift.</b> By Sir <span class="smcap">Leslie Stephen</span>, K.C.B.</li>
+
+<li><b>Scott.</b> By <span class="smcap">R.&nbsp;H. Hutton</span>. <b>Burns.</b> By Principal <span class="smcap">Shairp</span>.
+<b>Coleridge.</b> By <span class="smcap">H.&nbsp;D. Traill</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Hume.</b> By Professor <span class="smcap">Huxley</span>, F.R.S. <b>Locke.</b> By <span class="smcap">Thos.
+Fowler</span>. <b>Burke.</b> By <span class="smcap">John Morley</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Defoe.</b> By <span class="smcap">W. Minto</span>. <b>Sterne.</b> By <span class="smcap">H.&nbsp;D. Traill</span>.
+<b>Hawthorne.</b> By <span class="smcap">Henry James</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Fielding.</b> By <span class="smcap">Austin Dobson</span>. <b>Thackeray.</b> By <span class="smcap">Anthony
+Trollope</span>. <b>Dickens.</b> By Dr. <span class="smcap">A.&nbsp;W. Ward</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Gibbon.</b> By <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;C. Morison</span>. <b>Carlyle.</b> By Professor
+<span class="smcap">Nichol</span>. <b>Macaulay.</b> By <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;C. Morison</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Sydney.</b> By <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;A. Symonds</span>. <b>De Quincey.</b> By Prof.
+<span class="smcap">Masson</span>. <b>Sheridan.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Oliphant</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Pope.</b> By Sir <span class="smcap">Leslie Stephen</span>, K.C.B. <b>Johnson.</b> By
+Sir <span class="smcap">Leslie Stephen</span>, K.C.B. <b>Gray.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edmund Gosse</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Bacon.</b> By Dean <span class="smcap">Church</span>. <b>Bunyan.</b> By <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;A. Froude</span>.
+<b>Bentley.</b> By Sir <span class="smcap">Richard Jebb</span>.<!--Page 29--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">THE GLOBE LIBRARY</h3>
+
+<h5>Crown 8vo. <i>3s. 6d.</i> each.</h5>
+
+<h6><i>The volumes marked with an asterisk (*) are also issued in limp leather,
+with full gilt back and gilt edges. 5s. net each.</i></h6>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><b>*Boswell's Life of Johnson.</b> With an Introduction by
+<span class="smcap">Mowbray Morris</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Burns's Complete Works.</b> Edited from the best Printed
+and MS. Authorities, with Memoir and Glossarial Index. By <span class="smcap">A. Smith</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>*The Works of Geoffrey Chaucer.</b> Edited by <span class="smcap">Alfred
+W. Pollard</span>, <span class="smcap">H.&nbsp;F. Heath</span>, <span class="smcap">M.&nbsp;H. Liddell</span>, and <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;S. McCormick</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Cowper's Poetical Works.</b> Edited, with Biographical
+Introduction and Notes by <span class="smcap">W. Benham</span>, B.D.</li>
+
+<li><b>Robinson Crusoe.</b> Edited after the original Edition, with
+a Biographical Introduction by <span class="smcap">Henry Kingsley</span>, F.R.G.S.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Dryden's Poetical Works.</b> Edited, with a Memoir,
+Revised Texts, and Notes, by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;D. Christie</span>, M.A.</li>
+
+<li><b>*The Diary of John Evelyn.</b> With an Introduction and
+Notes by <span class="smcap">Austin Dobson</span>, Hon. LL.D. Edin.</li>
+
+<li><b>Froissart's Chronicles.</b> Translated by Lord <span class="smcap">Berners</span>.
+Edited by <span class="smcap">G.&nbsp;C. Macaulay</span>, M.A.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Goldsmith's Miscellaneous Works.</b> With Biographical
+Introduction by Professor <span class="smcap">Masson</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>The Iliad of Homer.</b> Done into English Prose by <span class="smcap">Andrew
+Lang</span>, M.A., <span class="smcap">Walter Leaf</span>, Litt.D., and <span class="smcap">Ernest Myers</span>, M.A.</li>
+
+<li><b>Horace.</b> Rendered into English Prose, with Introduction,
+Notes, etc. By <span class="smcap">J. Lonsdale</span>, M.A., and <span class="smcap">S. Lee</span>, M.A.</li>
+
+<li><b>*The Poetical Works of John Keats.</b> Edited, with
+Introduction and Notes, by <span class="smcap">William T. Arnold</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Morte Darthur.</b> With Introduction, Notes, and Glossary
+by Sir <span class="smcap">E. Strachey</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Milton's Poetical Works.</b> Edited, with Introduction,
+by Professor <span class="smcap">Masson</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>The Diary of Samuel Pepys.</b> With an Introduction
+and Notes by <span class="smcap">G. Gregory Smith</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Pope's Poetical Works.</b> Edited, with Notes and Introductory
+Memoir, by Sir <span class="smcap">A.&nbsp;W. Ward</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Sir Walter Scott's Poetical Works.</b> Edited, with
+Biographical and Critical Memoir, by Prof. <span class="smcap">F.&nbsp;T. Palgrave</span>. With
+Introduction and Notes.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Shakespeare's Complete Works.</b> Edited by <span class="smcap">W.&nbsp;G.
+Clark</span>, M.A., and <span class="smcap">W. Aldis Wright</span>, M.A. With Glossary.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Spenser's Complete Works.</b> Edited, with Glossary,
+by <span class="smcap">R. Morris</span>, and a Memoir by <span class="smcap">J.&nbsp;W. Hales</span>, M.A.</li>
+
+<li><b>*Tennyson's Poetical Works.</b> [Also in extra cloth, gilt
+edges. <i>4s. 6d.</i>]</li>
+
+<li><b>Virgil.</b> Rendered into English Prose, with Introductions,
+Notes Analysis, and Index. By <span class="smcap">J. Lonsdale</span>, M.A., and <span class="smcap">S. Lee</span>, M.A.<!--Page 30--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h4>ILLUSTRATED</h4>
+<h3>STANDARD NOVELS</h3>
+
+<h5>Crown 8vo. Cloth Elegant, gilt edges (Peacock Edition).
+<i>3s. 6d.</i> each.</h5>
+
+<h5>Also issued in ornamental cloth binding. <i>2s. 6d.</i> each.</h5>
+
+
+<h4>By JANE AUSTEN</h4>
+
+<h5><i>With Introductions by</i> <span class="smcap">Austin Dobson</span>, <i>and Illustrations by</i>
+<span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">C.&nbsp;E. Brock</span>.</h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><span class="smcap">Pride and Prejudice.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Sense and Sensibility.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Emma.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Mansfield Park.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Northanger Abbey, and Persuasion.</span></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<h4>By J. FENIMORE COOPER</h4>
+
+<h5><i>With Illustrations by</i> <span class="smcap">C.&nbsp;E. Brock</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">H.&nbsp;M. Brock</span>.</h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><span class="smcap">The Last of the Mohicans.</span> With a General Introduction by Mowbray Morris.</li>
+<li><span class="smcap">The Deerslayer.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">The Pathfinder.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">The Pioneers.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">The Prairie.</span></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4>By MARIA EDGEWORTH</h4>
+
+<h5><i>With Introductions by</i> <span class="smcap">Anne Thackeray Ritchie</span>, <i>and Illustrations
+by</i> <span class="smcap">Chris Hammond</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Carl Schloesser</span>.</h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><span class="smcap">Ormond.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Castle Rackrent, and The Absentee.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Popular Tales.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Helen.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Belinda.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Parent's Assistant.</span></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4>By CAPTAIN MARRYAT</h4>
+
+<h5><i>With Introductions by</i> <span class="smcap">David Hannay</span>, <i>and Illustrations by</i>
+<span class="smcap">H.&nbsp;M. Brock</span>, <span class="smcap">J. Ayton Symington</span>, <span class="smcap">Fred Pegram</span>, <span class="smcap">F.&nbsp;H.
+Townsend</span>, <span class="smcap">H.&nbsp;R. Millar</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">E.&nbsp;J. Sullivan</span>.</h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><span class="smcap">Japhet in Search of a Father.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Jacob Faithful.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Peter Simple.</span><!--Page 31--></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Midshipman Easy.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">The King's Own.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">The Phantom Ship.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Snarley-yow.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Poor Jack.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">The Pirate, and The Three Cutters.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Masterman Ready.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Frank Mildmay.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Newton Forster.</span></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4>By THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK</h4>
+
+<h5><i>With Introductions by</i> <span class="smcap">George Saintsbury</span>, <i>and Illustrations
+by</i> <span class="smcap">H.&nbsp;R. Millar</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">F.&nbsp;H. Townsend</span>.</h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><span class="smcap">Headlong Hall, and Nightmare Abbey.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Maid Marian, and Crotchet Castle.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Gryll Grange.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Melincourt.</span></li>
+<li><span class="smcap">Misfortunes of Elphin and Rhododaphne.</span></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4><i>BY VARIOUS AUTHORS</i></h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><span class="smcap">Westward Ho!</span> By <span class="smcap">Charles Kingsley</span>. Illustrated
+by C.&nbsp;E. Brock.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Handy Andy.</span> By <span class="smcap">Samuel Lover</span>. Illustrated by
+H.&nbsp;M. Brock. With Introduction by Charles Whibley.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Annals of the Parish.</span> By <span class="smcap">John Galt</span>. Illustrated
+By C.&nbsp;E. Brock. With Introduction by Alfred Ainger.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Sybil, or The Two Nations, Etc.</span> By <span class="smcap">Benjamin
+Disraeli</span>. Illustrated by F. Pegram. With Introduction by
+H.&nbsp;D. Traill.</li>
+
+<li><span class="smcap">Adventures of Hajji Baba of Ispahan.</span> By <span class="smcap">James
+Morier</span>. Illustrated by H.&nbsp;R. Millar. With Introduction by
+Lord Curzon.<!--Page 32--></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap">THE NEW CRANFORD SERIES</h3>
+
+<h5><i>Crown 8vo, Cloth Elegant, Gilt Edges, 3s. 6d. per volume.</i></h5>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<ul>
+<li><b>Cranford.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Gaskell</span>. With Preface by Anne
+Thackeray Ritchie and 100 Illustrations by Hugh Thomson.</li>
+
+<li><b>The Vicar of Wakefield.</b> With 182 Illustrations by
+Hugh Thomson, and Preface by Austin Dobson.</li>
+
+<li><b>Our Village.</b> By <span class="smcap">Mary Russell Mitford</span>. Introduction
+by Anne Thackeray Ritchie, and 100 Illustrations by Hugh Thomson.</li>
+
+<li><b>Gulliver's Travels.</b> With Introduction by Sir Henry
+Craik, K.C.B., and 100 Illustrations by C.&nbsp;E. Brock.</li>
+
+<li><b>The Humorous Poems of Thomas Hood.</b> With
+Preface by Alfred Ainger, and 130 Illustrations by C.&nbsp;E. Brock.</li>
+
+<li><b>Sheridan's The School for Scandal and The Rivals.</b>
+Illustrated by E.&nbsp;J. Sullivan. With Introduction by A. Birrell.</li>
+
+<li><b>Household Stories.</b> By the Brothers <span class="smcap">Grimm</span>. Translated
+by Lucy Crane. With Pictures by Walter Crane.</li>
+
+<li><b>Reynard the Fox.</b> Edited by <span class="smcap">J. Jacobs</span>. With Illustrations
+by W. Frank Calderon.</li>
+
+<li><b>Coaching Days and Coaching Ways.</b> By <span class="smcap">W. Outram
+Tristram</span>. With Illustrations by H. Railton and Hugh Thomson.</li>
+
+<li><b>Coridon's Song; and other Verses.</b> With Introduction by
+Austin Dobson and Illustrations by Hugh Thomson.</li>
+
+<li><b>The Fables of &AElig;sop.</b> Selected by <span class="smcap">Joseph Jacobs</span>. Illustrated
+by R. Heighway.</li>
+
+<li><b>Old Christmas.</b> By <span class="smcap">Washington Irving</span>. With Illustrations
+by R. Caldecott.</li>
+
+<li><b>Bracebridge Hall.</b> With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">R. Caldecott</span>.</li>
+
+<li><b>Rip Van Winkle and the Legend of Sleepy Hollow.</b>
+With 50 Illustrations and a Preface by George H. Boughton, A.R.A.</li>
+
+<li><b>The Alhambra.</b> With Illustrations by J. Pennell and
+Introduction by E.&nbsp;R. Pennell.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<h5><span class="smcap">MACMILLAN &amp; CO., Ltd., LONDON.</span></h5>
+
+<h6 class="bgap">J. PALMER, PRINTER, CAMBRIDGE.<span class="sep">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>20.4.16</h6>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="note">
+<p class="noind">Transcriber's Note:</p>
+<p class="noind">Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without note.
+Inconsistent hyphenation has been retained as it appears in the original.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVER OR FRIEND***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 28925-h.txt or 28925-h.zip *******</p>
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+*** END: FULL LICENSE ***
+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>
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+++ b/28925.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,23258 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Lover or Friend, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Lover or Friend
+
+
+Author: Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+
+
+Release Date: May 22, 2009  [eBook #28925]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVER OR FRIEND***
+
+
+E-text prepared by David Clarke, Pilar Somoza Fernandez, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+   Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without note.
+   Inconsistent hyphenation has been retained as it appears in
+   the original.
+
+
+
+
+
+LOVER OR FRIEND
+
+by
+
+ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY
+
+Author of 'Nellie's Memories,' 'Not Like Other Girls,' Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MacMillan and Co., Limited
+St. Martin's Street, London
+1915
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF
+
+ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY
+
+POPULAR EDITION
+
+_Crown 8vo. Cloth extra. 3s. 6d. each._
+
+NELLIE'S MEMORIES.
+WEE WIFIE.
+BARBARA HEATHCOTE'S TRIAL.
+ROBERT ORD'S ATONEMENT.
+WOOED AND MARRIED.
+HERIOT'S CHOICE.
+QUEENIE'S WHIM.
+MARY ST. JOHN.
+NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS.
+FOR LILIAS.
+UNCLE MAX.
+ONLY THE GOVERNESS.
+LOVER OR FRIEND?
+BASIL LYNDHURST.
+SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS.
+THE OLD, OLD STORY.
+THE MISTRESS OF BRAE FARM.
+MRS. ROMNEY AND "BUT MEN MUST WORK."
+OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES.
+HERB OF GRACE.
+THE HIGHWAY OF FATE.
+RUE WITH A DIFFERENCE.
+A PASSAGE PERILOUS.
+AT THE MOORINGS.
+THE HOUSEHOLD OF PETER.
+NO FRIEND LIKE A SISTER.
+THE ANGEL OF FORGIVENESS.
+THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE HILL.
+THE KEY OF THE UNKNOWN.
+
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON.
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+LOVER OR FRIEND
+
+MacMillan and Co., Limited
+London . Bombay . Calcutta
+Melbourne
+
+The MacMillan Company
+New York . Boston . Chicago
+Dallas . San Francisco
+
+The MacMillan Co. of Canada, Ltd.
+Toronto
+
+Copyright
+_First Edition_ 1890
+_Reprinted_ 1893, 1894, 1898, 1899, 1901, 1902, 1904, 1906, 1910, 1915
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAP.                                                               PAGE
+
+1. THE BLAKE FAMILY ARE DISCUSSED                                      1
+
+2. AUDREY INTRODUCES HERSELF                                           9
+
+3. THE BLAKE FAMILY AT HOME                                           18
+
+4. MICHAEL                                                            28
+
+5. THE NEW MASTER                                                     36
+
+6. THE GRAY COTTAGE                                                   47
+
+7. KESTER'S HERO                                                      56
+
+8. 'I HOPE BETTER THINGS OF AUDREY'                                   67
+
+9. MAT                                                                78
+
+10. PRISCILLA BAXTER                                                  88
+
+11. 'A GIRL AFTER MY OWN HEART'                                       97
+
+12. MOLLIE GOES TO DEEP-WATER CHINE                                  107
+
+13. GERALDINE GIVES HER OPINION                                      117
+
+14. 'I AM SORRY YOU ASKED THE QUESTION'                              126
+
+15. MRS. BLAKE HAS HER NEW GOWN                                      137
+
+16. MOLLIE LETS THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG                               146
+
+17. AMONG THE BRAIL LANES                                            155
+
+18. ON A SCOTCH MOOR                                                 165
+
+19. YELLOW STOCKINGS ON THE TAPIS                                    174
+
+20. 'THE LITTLE RIFT'                                                183
+
+21. 'HE IS VERY BRAVE'                                               192
+
+22. 'NO, YOU HAVE NOT SPARED ME'                                     202
+
+23. 'DADDY, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU'                                  210
+
+24. 'I FELT SUCH A CULPRIT, YOU SEE'                                 222
+
+25. MR. HARCOURT SPEAKS HIS MIND                                     232
+
+26. HOW GERALDINE TOOK IT TO HEART                                   242
+
+27. WHAT MICHAEL THOUGHT OF IT                                       252
+
+28. MICHAEL TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF                                    261
+
+29. TWO FAMILY EVENTS                                                269
+
+30. 'I COULD NOT STAND IT ANY LONGER, TOM'                           278
+
+31. 'WILL YOU CALL THE GUARD?'                                       286
+
+32. 'I DID NOT LOVE HIM'                                             295
+
+33. 'SHALL YOU TELL HIM TO-NIGHT?'                                   305
+
+34. 'I MUST THINK OF MY CHILD, MIKE'                                 313
+
+35. 'OLIVE WILL ACKNOWLEDGE ANYTHING'                                323
+
+36. 'HOW CAN I BEAR IT?'                                             332
+
+37. 'I SHALL NEVER BE FREE'                                          341
+
+38. 'WHO WILL COMFORT HIM?'                                          351
+
+39. 'YOU WILL LIVE IT DOWN'                                          360
+
+40. MICHAEL ACCEPTS HIS CHARGE                                       368
+
+41. 'THERE SHALL BE PEACE BETWEEN US'                                378
+
+42. 'WILL YOU SHAKE HANDS WITH YOUR FATHER?'                         389
+
+43. MICHAEL'S LETTER                                                 399
+
+44. MOLLIE GOES INTO EXILE                                           409
+
+45. AUDREY RECEIVES A TELEGRAM                                       418
+
+46. 'INASMUCH'                                                       426
+
+47. A STRANGE EXPIATION                                              435
+
+48. ON MICHAEL'S BENCH                                               445
+
+49. 'LET YOUR HEART PLEAD FOR ME'                                    456
+
+50. BOOTY'S MASTER                                                   464
+
+51. 'LOVE'S AFTERMATH'                                               472
+
+
+
+
+LOVER OR FRIEND?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE BLAKE FAMILY ARE DISCUSSED
+
+     'There is nothing, sir, too little for so little a creature as man.
+     It is by studying little things that we attain the great art of
+     having as little misery and as much happiness as possible.'--DR.
+     JOHNSON.
+
+
+Everyone in Rutherford knew that Mrs. Ross was ruled by her eldest
+daughter; it was an acknowledged fact, obvious not only to a keen-witted
+person like Mrs. Charrington, the head-master's wife, but even to the
+minor intelligence of Johnnie Deans, the youngest boy at Woodcote. It
+was not that Mrs. Ross was a feeble-minded woman; in her own way she was
+sensible, clear-sighted, with plenty of common-sense; but she was a
+little disposed to lean on a stronger nature, and even when Geraldine
+was in the schoolroom, her energy and youthful vigour began to assert
+themselves, her opinions insensibly influenced her mother's, until at
+last they swayed her entirely.
+
+If this were the case when Geraldine was a mere girl, it was certainly
+not altered when the crowning glories of matronhood were added to her
+other perfections. Six months ago Geraldine Ross had left her father's
+house to become the wife of Mr. Harcourt, of Hillside; and in becoming
+the mistress of one of the coveted Hill houses, Geraldine had not yet
+consented to lay down the sceptre of her home rule.
+
+Mrs. Ross had acquiesced cheerfully in this arrangement. She had lost
+her right hand in losing Geraldine; and during the brief honeymoon both
+she and her younger daughter Audrey felt as though the home machinery
+were somewhat out of gear. No arrangement could be effected without a
+good deal of wondering on Mrs. Ross's part as to what Geraldine might
+think of it, and without a lengthy letter being written on the subject.
+
+It was a relief, at least to her mother's mind, when young Mrs. Harcourt
+returned, and without a word took up the reins again. No one disputed
+her claims. Now and then there would be a lazy protest from Audrey--a
+concealed sarcasm that fell blunted beneath the calm amiability of the
+elder sister. Geraldine was always perfectly good-tempered; the sense of
+propriety that guided all her actions never permitted her to grow hot in
+argument; and when a person is always in the right, as young Mrs.
+Harcourt believed herself to be, the small irritations of daily life
+fall very harmlessly. It is possible for a man to be so cased in armour
+that even a pin-prick of annoyance will not find ingress. It is true the
+armour may be a little stifling and somewhat inconvenient for work-a-day
+use, but it is a grand thing to be saved from pricks.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt was presiding at the little tea-table in the Woodcote
+drawing-room; there were only two other persons in the room. It was
+quite an understood thing that the young mistress of Hillside should
+walk over to Woodcote two or three afternoons in the week, to give her
+mother the benefit of her society, and also to discuss any little matter
+that might have arisen during her brief absence.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt was an exceedingly handsome young woman; in fact, many
+people thought her lovely. She had well-cut features, a good
+complexion--with the soft, delicate colouring that only perfect health
+ever gives--and a figure that was at once graceful and dignified. To add
+to all these attractions, she understood the art of dressing herself;
+her gowns always fitted her to perfection. She was always attired
+suitably, and though vanity and self-consciousness were not her natural
+foibles, she had a feminine love of pretty things, and considered it a
+wifely duty to please the eyes of her lord and master.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt had the old-fashioned sugar-tongs in her hand, and was
+balancing them lightly for a moment. 'It is quite true, mother,' she
+said decisively, as she dropped the sugar into the shallow teacup.
+
+Mrs. Ross looked up from her knitting.
+
+'My dear Geraldine, I do hope you are mistaken,' she returned
+anxiously.
+
+Mrs. Ross had also been a very pretty woman, and even now she retained a
+good deal of pleasant middle-aged comeliness. She was somewhat stout,
+and had grown a little inactive in consequence; but her expression was
+soft and motherly, and she had the unmistakable air of a gentlewoman. In
+her husband's eyes she was still handsomer than her daughters; and Dr.
+Ross flattered himself that he had made the all-important choice of his
+life more wisely than other men.
+
+'My dear mother, how is it possible to be mistaken?' returned her
+daughter, with a shade of reproof in her voice. 'I told you that I had a
+long talk with Edith. Michael, I have made your tea; I think it is just
+as you like it--with no infusion of tannin, as you call it'; and she
+turned her head slowly, so as to bring into view the person she was
+addressing, and who, seated at a little distance, had taken no part in
+the conversation.
+
+He was a thin, pale man, of about five or six and thirty, with a reddish
+moustache. As he crossed the room in response to this invitation, he
+moved with an air of languor that amounted to lassitude, and a slight
+limp was discernible. His features were plain; only a pair of clear blue
+eyes, with a peculiarly searching expression, distinguished him from a
+hundred men of the same type.
+
+These eyes were not always pleasant to meet. Certain people felt
+disagreeably in their inner consciousness that Captain Burnett could
+read them too accurately--'No fellow has a right to look you through and
+through,' as one young staff officer observed; 'it is taking a liberty
+with a man. Burnett always seems as though he is trying to turn a fellow
+inside out, to get at the other side of him'--not a very eloquent
+description of a would-be philosopher who loved to dabble a little in
+human foibles.
+
+'I have been listening to the Blake discussion,' he said coolly, as he
+took the offered cup. 'What a wonderful woman you are, Gage! you have a
+splendid talent for organisation; and even a thorough-paced scandal has
+to be organised.'
+
+'Scandal!--what are you talking about, Michael?'
+
+'Your talent for organisation, even in trifles,' he returned promptly.
+'I am using the word advisedly. I have just been reading De Quincey's
+definition of talent and genius. He says--now pray listen, Gage--that
+"talent is intellectual power of every kind which acts and manifests
+itself by and through the will and the active forces. Genius, as the
+verbal origin implies, is that much rarer species of intellectual power
+which is derived from the genial nature, from the spirit of suffering
+and enjoying, from the spirit of pleasure and pain, as organised more or
+less perfectly; and this is independent of the will. It is a function of
+the passive nature. Talent is conversant with the adaptation of means to
+ends; but genius is conversant only with ends."'
+
+'My dear Michael, I have no doubt that all this is exceedingly clever,
+and that your memory is excellent, but why are we to be crushed beneath
+all this analysis?'
+
+'I was only drawing a comparison between you and Audrey,' he replied
+tranquilly. 'I have been much struck by the idea involved in the word
+"genial"; I had no conception we could evolve "genius" out of it. Audrey
+is a very genial person; she also, in De Quincey's words, "moves in
+headlong sympathy and concurrence with spontaneous power." This is his
+definition, mark you; I lay no claim to it: "Genius works under a
+rapture of necessity and spontaneity." I do love that expression,
+"headlong sympathy"; it so well expresses the way Audrey works.'
+
+Mrs. Harcourt gave a little assenting shrug. She was not quite pleased
+with the turn the conversation had taken; abstract ideas were not to her
+taste; the play of words in which Captain Burnett delighted bored her
+excessively. She detected, too, a spice of irony. The comparison between
+her and Audrey was not a flattering one: she was far cleverer than
+Audrey; her masters and governesses would have acknowledged that fact.
+And yet her cousin Michael was giving the divine gift of genius to her
+more scantily endowed sister; genius! but, of course, it was only
+Michael's nonsense: he would say anything when he was in the humour for
+disputation. Even her own Percival had these contentious moods. The
+masculine mind liked to play with moral ninepins, to send all kinds of
+exploded theories rolling with their little ball of wit; it sharpened
+their argumentative faculties, and kept them bright and ready for use.
+
+'Mother and I were talking about these tiresome Blakes--not of Audrey,'
+she said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. 'If you were listening,
+Michael, you must have heard the whole account of my conversation with
+Mrs. Bryce.'
+
+'Oh, you mean Harcourt's sister, with whom you have been staying. Did I
+not tell you that I had heard every word, and was admiring your
+admirable tactics? The way in which you marshalled your forces of
+half-truths and implied verities and small mounted theories was
+grand--absolutely grand!'
+
+Mrs. Harcourt was silent for a moment. Michael was very trying; he often
+exercised her patience most severely. But there was a threefold reason
+for her forbearance; first, he was her father's cousin, and beloved by
+him as his own son would have been if he had ever had one; secondly, his
+ill-health entitled him to a good deal of consideration from any
+kind-hearted woman; and thirdly, and perhaps principally, he had the
+reputation for saying and doing odd, out-of-the-way things; and a man
+who moves in an eccentric circle of his own is never on other people's
+plane, and therefore some allowance must be made for him.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt could, however, have heartily endorsed Mrs. Carlyle's
+opinion of her gifted son, and applied it to her cousin--'He was ill to
+live with.' Somehow one loves this honest, shrewd criticism of the old
+North-Country woman, the homely body who smoked short black pipes in the
+chimney-corner, but whom Carlyle loved and venerated from the bottom of
+his big heart. 'Ill to live with'--perhaps Michael Burnett, with his
+injured health and Victoria Cross, and the purpose of his life all
+marred and frustrated, was not the easiest person in the world.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt was silent for an instant; but she never permitted herself
+to be ruffled, so she went on in her smooth voice:
+
+'I felt it was my duty to repeat to mother all that Edith--I mean Mrs.
+Bryce--told me about the Blakes.'
+
+'Please do not be so formal. I infinitely prefer that fine,
+princess-like name of Edith,' remarked Michael, with a lazy twinkle in
+his eyes; but Mrs. Harcourt would not condescend even to notice the
+interruption.
+
+'Mrs. Bryce,' with a pointed emphasis on the name, 'was much concerned
+when she heard that my father had engaged Mr. Blake for his classical
+master.'
+
+'And why so?' demanded Captain Burnett a little sharply. 'He has taken a
+good degree; Dr. Ross seems perfectly satisfied with him.'
+
+'Oh, there is nothing against the young man; he is clever and pleasant,
+and very good-looking. It is only the mother who is so objectionable.
+Perhaps I am putting it too strongly--only Mrs. Bryce and her husband
+did not like her. They say she is a very unsatisfactory person, and so
+difficult to understand.'
+
+'Poor Mrs. Blake,' ejaculated her cousin, 'to be judged before the Bryce
+tribunal and found wanting!'
+
+'Don't be ridiculous, Michael!' replied Mrs. Harcourt, in her
+good-tempered way; 'of course you take her part simply because she is
+accused: you are like Audrey in that.'
+
+'You see we are both genial persons; but, seriously, Mrs. Blake's list
+of misdemeanours seems absurdly trifling. She is very handsome; that is
+misdemeanour number one, I believe.'
+
+'My dear,' observed Mrs. Ross placidly at this point, for she had been
+too busy counting her stitches to concern herself with the strife of
+words, 'Geraldine only mentioned that as a fact: she remarked that Mrs.
+Blake was a very prepossessing person, that she had rather an uncommon
+type of beauty.'
+
+'That makes her all the more interesting,' murmured Captain Burnett,
+with his eyes half closed. 'I begin to feel quite excited about this
+Mrs. Blake. I do delight in anything out of the common.'
+
+'Oh, Edith never denied that she was fascinating. She is a clever woman,
+too; only there were certain little solecisms committed that made her
+think Mrs. Blake was not a thorough gentlewoman. They are undoubtedly
+very poor; and though, of course, that is no objection, it is so absurd
+for people in such a position to try and ignore their little shifts and
+contrivances. Honest poverty is to be respected, but not when it is
+allied to pretension.'
+
+'My dear Gage, was it you or Mrs. Bryce who made that exceedingly clever
+speech! It was really worthy of Dr. Johnson; it only wanted a "Sir" to
+point the Doctor's style. "Sir, honest poverty is to be respected, but
+not when it is allied to pretension"--a good, thorough Johnsonian
+speech! And so the poor woman is poor?'
+
+'Yes, but no one minds that,' returned Mrs. Harcourt, somewhat hastily.
+'I hope you do not think that anything in her outward circumstances has
+prejudiced my sister-in-law against her. As far as that goes, Mrs. Blake
+deserves credit; she has denied herself comforts even to give her son a
+good education. No, it is something contradictory in the woman herself
+that made the Bryces say they would never get on with her. She is
+impulsive, absurdly impulsive; and yet at the same time she is reserved.
+She has a bad temper--at least, Edith declares she has heard her
+scolding her servant in no measured terms; and then she is so
+injudicious with her children. She absolutely adores her eldest son,
+Cyril; but Edith will have it that she neglects her daughter. And there
+is an invalid boy, too--a very interesting little fellow; at least, I
+don't know how old he is--and she is not too attentive to him.
+Housekeeping worries her, and she is fond of society; and I know the
+Bryces think that she would marry again if she got the chance.'
+
+'Let the younger widows marry. I hope you do not mean to contradict St.
+Paul. Have we quite finished the indictment, Gage? Be it known unto the
+inhabitants of Rutherford that a certain seditious and dangerous person
+of the name of Blake is about to take up her residence in the town--the
+list of her misdemeanours being as follows, to wit, as they say in old
+chronicles: an uncommon style of beauty, an inclination to replace the
+deceased Mr. Blake, imperfect temper, impulsiveness tempered with
+reserve, unconventionality of habit, poverty combined with
+pretentiousness, and a disposition to slight her maternal duties--really
+a most interesting person!'
+
+'Michael, of course you say that to provoke me; please don't listen to
+him, mother. You understand me if no one else does; you know it is
+Audrey of whom I am thinking. Yes,' turning to her cousin, 'you may
+amuse yourself with turning all my speeches into ridicule, but in your
+heart you agree with me. I have often heard you lecturing Audrey on her
+impulsiveness and want of common-sense. It will be just like her to
+strike up a violent friendship with Mrs. Blake--you know how she takes
+these sudden fancies; and father is quite as bad. I daresay they will
+both discover she is charming before twenty-four hours are over; that is
+why I am begging mother to be very prudent, and keep the Blakes at a
+distance.'
+
+'You agree, of course, Cousin Emmeline?'
+
+'Well, my dear, I don't quite like the account Geraldine gives me. Mrs.
+Bryce is a very shrewd person; she is not likely to make mistakes. I
+think I shall give Audrey a hint, unless you prefer to do so,
+Geraldine.'
+
+'I think it will come better from me, mother; you see, I shall just
+retail Edith's words. Audrey is a little difficult to manage sometimes;
+she likes to form her own notions of people. There is no time to be lost
+if they are coming in to-morrow.'
+
+'I thought your father said it was to-day that they were expected?'
+
+'No; I am positive Percival said to-morrow. I know the old servant and
+some of the furniture arrived at the Gray Cottage two days ago.'
+
+Captain Burnett looked up quickly, as though he were about to speak, and
+then changed his mind, and went on with his occupation, which was
+teaching a small brown Dachs-hund the Gladstone trick.
+
+'Now, Booty, when I say "Lord Salisbury," you are to eat the sugar, but
+not before. Ah, here comes the bone of contention!' he went on in a
+purposely loud tone, as a shadow darkened the window; and the next
+minute a tall young lady stepped over the low sill into the room.
+
+'Were you talking about me?' she asked in a clear voice, as she looked
+round at them. 'How do you do, Gage? Have you been here all the
+afternoon? How is Percival? No more tea, thank you; I have just had
+some--at the Blakes'.'
+
+'At the Blakes'?' exclaimed her sister, in a horror-stricken tone,
+unable to believe her ears.
+
+'Yes. I heard they had come in last night, so I thought it would be only
+neighbourly to call and see if one could do anything for them. I met
+father on the Hill, and he quite approved. Mrs. Blake sends her
+compliments to you, mother;' and as only an awful silence answered her,
+she continued innocently: 'I am sure you and Gage will like her. She is
+charming--perfectly charming! the nicest person I have seen for a long
+time!' finished Audrey, with delightful unconsciousness of the sensation
+she was creating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+AUDREY INTRODUCES HERSELF
+
+     'Indeed, all faults, had they been ten times more and greater,
+     would have been neutralised by that supreme expression of her
+     features, to the unity of which every lineament in the fixed parts,
+     and every undulation in the moving parts of her countenance,
+     concurred, viz., a sunny benignity, a radiant graciousness, such as
+     in this world I never saw surpassed.'
+
+                                                      DE QUINCEY.
+
+
+In this innocent fashion had Audrey Ross solved the Gordian knot of
+family difficulty, leaving her mother and sister eyeing each other with
+the aghast looks of defeated conspirators; and it must be owned that
+many a tangled skein, that would have been patiently and laboriously
+unravelled by the skilled fingers of Geraldine, was spoilt in this
+manner by the quick impulsiveness of Audrey.
+
+No two sisters could be greater contrasts to each other. While young
+Mrs. Harcourt laid an undue stress on what may be termed the minor
+morals, the small proprieties, and lesser virtues that lie on the
+surface of things and give life its polish, Audrey was for ever riding
+full-tilt against prejudices or raising a crusade against what she chose
+to term 'the bugbear of feminine existence--conventionality.'
+
+Not that Audrey was a strong-minded person or a stickler for woman's
+rights. She had no advanced notions, no crude theories, on the subject
+of emancipation; it was only, to borrow Captain Burnett's words, that
+her headlong sympathies carried her away; a passionate instinct of pity
+always made her range herself on the losing side. Her virtues were
+unequally balanced, and her generosity threatened to degenerate into
+weakness. Most women love to feel the support of a stronger nature;
+Audrey loved to support others; any form of suffering, mental or
+physical, appealed to her irresistibly. Her sympathy was often
+misplaced and excessive, and her power of self-effacement, under some
+circumstances, was even more remarkable, the word 'self-effacement'
+being rightly used here, as 'self-sacrifice' presupposes some
+consciousness of action. It was this last trait that caused genuine
+anxiety to those who knew and loved Audrey best; for who can tell to
+what lengths a generous nature may go, to whom any form of pain is
+intolerable, and every beggar, worthy or unworthy, a human brother or
+sister, with claims to consideration?
+
+If Audrey were not as clever as her elder sister, she had more
+originality; she was also far more independent in her modes of action
+and thought, and went on her own way without reference to others.
+
+'It is not that I think myself wiser than other people,' she said once
+to her cousin, who had just been delivering her a lecture on this
+subject. 'Of course I am always making mistakes--everyone does; but you
+see, Michael, I have lived so long with myself--exactly two-and-twenty
+years--and so I must know most about myself, and what is best for this
+young person,' tapping herself playfully.
+
+Audrey was certainly not so handsome as her sister. She had neither
+Geraldine's perfection of feature nor her exquisite colouring; but she
+had her good points, like other people.
+
+Her hair was soft and brown, and there was a golden tinge in it that was
+greatly admired. There was also a depth and expression in her gray eyes
+that Geraldine lacked. But the charm of Audrey's face was her smile. It
+was no facial contortion, no mere lip service; it was a heart
+illumination--a sudden radiance that seemed to light up every feature,
+and which brought a certain lovely dimple into play.
+
+And there was one other thing noticeable in Audrey, and which brought
+the sisters into still sharper contrast. She was lamentably deficient in
+taste, and, though personally neat, was rather careless on the subject
+of dress. She liked an old gown better than a new one, was never quite
+sure which colour suited her best, and felt just as happy paying a round
+of calls in an old cambric as in the best tailor-made gown. It was on
+this subject that she and Geraldine differed most. No amount of spoken
+wisdom could make Audrey see that she was neglecting her opportunities
+to a culpable degree; that while other forms of eccentricity might be
+forgiven, the one unpardonable sin in Geraldine's code was Audrey's
+refusal to make the best of herself.
+
+'And you do look so nice when you are well dressed,' she observed with
+mournful affection on one occasion when Audrey had specially
+disappointed her. 'You have a beautiful figure--Madame Latouche said so
+herself--and yet you would wear that hideous gown Miss Sewell has made,
+and at Mrs. Charrington's "at home," too.'
+
+'How many people were affected by this sad occurrence?' asked Audrey
+scornfully. 'My dear Gage, your tone is truly tragical. Was it my
+clothes or me--poor little me!--that Mrs. Charrington invited and wanted
+to see? Do you know, Michael,' for that young man was present, 'I have
+such a grand idea for the future; a fashion to come in with Wagner's
+music, and aesthetics, and female lawyers--in fact, an advanced theory
+worthy of the nineteenth century. You know how people hate "at homes,"
+and how bored they are, and how they grumble at the crush and the
+crowd.'
+
+'Well, I do believe they are hideous products of civilisation,' he
+returned with an air of candour.
+
+'Just so; well, now for my idea. Oh, I must send it to _Punch_, I really
+must. My proposition is that people should send their card by their
+lady's-maid, and also the toilette intended for that afternoon, to be
+inspected by the hostess. Can you not imagine the scene? First comes the
+announcement by the butler: "Lady Fitzmaurice's clothes." Enter smiling
+lady's-maid, bearing a wondrously braided skirt with plush mantle and
+bonnet with pheasant's wing. Hostess bows, smiles, and inspects garments
+through her eyeglasses. "Charming! everything Lady Fitzmaurice wears is
+in such perfect taste. My dear Cecilia, that bonnet would just suit
+me--make a note of it, please. My compliments to her ladyship." Now then
+for Mrs. Grenville, and so on. Crowds still, you see, but no
+hand-shaking, no confusion of voices; and then, the wonderful economy:
+no tea and coffee, no ices, no professional artistes, only a little
+refreshment perhaps in the servants' hall.'
+
+'Audrey, how can you talk such nonsense?' returned her sister severely.
+
+But Captain Burnett gave his low laugh of amusement. He revelled in the
+girl's odd speeches; he thought Audrey's nonsense worth more than all
+Geraldine's sense, he even enjoyed with a man's _insouciance_ her daring
+disregard of conventionality.
+
+How difficult it is for a person thoroughly to know him or her self,
+unless he or she be morbidly addicted to incessant self-examination!
+Audrey thought that it was mere neighbourliness that induced her to call
+on the Blakes that afternoon; she had no idea that a strong curiosity
+made her wish to interview the new-comers.
+
+Rutherford was far too confined an area for a liberal mind like
+Audrey's. Her large and intense nature demanded fuller scope for its
+energies. With the exception of boys--who certainly preponderated in
+Rutherford--there were far too few human beings to satisfy Audrey. Every
+fresh face was therefore hailed by her with joy, and though perhaps she
+hardly went to Dr. Johnson's length when he complained that he
+considered that day lost on which he had not made a new acquaintance,
+still, her social instincts were not sufficiently nourished. The few
+people were busy people; they had a tiresome habit, too, of forming
+cliques, and in many ways they disappointed her. With her richer
+neighbours, especially among the Hill houses, Geraldine was the reigning
+favourite; Mrs. Charrington was devoted to her. Only little Mrs.
+Stanfield, of Rosendale, thought there was no one in the world like dear
+Audrey Ross.
+
+Audrey would not have mentioned her little scheme to her mother for
+worlds. Her mother was not a safe agent. She had long ago made Geraldine
+her conscience-keeper, but she had no objection to tell her father when
+she met him walking down the hill with his hands behind him, and
+evidently revolving his next Sunday's sermon.
+
+Dr. Ross was rather a fine-looking man. He had grown gray early, and his
+near-sight obliged him to wear spectacles; but his keen, clever face,
+and the benevolent and kindly air that distinguished him, always
+attracted people to him. At times he was a little absent and whimsical;
+and those who knew them both well declared that Audrey had got all her
+original ideas and unconventional ways from the Doctor.
+
+'Father, I am going to call on the Blakes,' she observed, as he was
+about to pass her as he would a stranger.
+
+'Dear me, Audrey, how you startled me! I was deep in original sin, I
+believe. The Blakes? Oh, I told young Blake to come up to dinner
+to-night; I want Michael to see him. Very well. Give my respects to Mrs.
+Blake; and if there be any service we can render her, be sure you offer
+it;' and Dr. Ross walked on, quite unconscious that his daughter had
+retraced her steps, and was following him towards the town. 'For I
+won't disturb him with my chatter,' she thought, 'and I may as well go
+to Gage to-morrow; she is sure to keep me, and then it would be rather
+awkward if she should take it into her head to talk about the Blakes.
+She might want to go with me, or perhaps, which is more likely, she
+would make a fuss about my going so soon. If you want to do a thing, do
+it quickly, and without telling anyone, is my motto. Father is no one.
+If I were going to run away from home, or do anything equally
+ridiculous, I should be sure to tell father first; he would only
+recommend me to go first class, and be sure to take a cab at the other
+end, bless him!'
+
+Dr. Ross walked on in a leisurely, thoughtful fashion, not too
+abstracted, however, to wave his hand slightly as knots of boys saluted
+him in passing. Audrey had a nod and smile for them all. At the Hill
+houses and at the school-house Geraldine might be the acknowledged
+favourite; but every boy in the upper and the lower school was Audrey's
+sworn adherent. She was their liege lady, for whom they were proud to do
+service; and more than one of the prefects cherished a tremulous passion
+for the Doctor's daughter together with his budding moustache, and,
+strange to say, was none the worse for the mild disease.
+
+A pleasant lane led from the Hill to the town, with sloping meadows on
+one side. It was a lovely afternoon in June, and groups of boys were
+racing down the field path on their way to the cricket ground. Audrey
+looked after them with a vivid interest. 'How happy they all look!' she
+said to herself. 'I do believe a boy--a real honest, healthy English
+boy--is one of the finest things in the creation. They are far happier
+than girls; they have more freedom, more zest, in their lives. If they
+work hard, they play well; every faculty of mind and body is trained to
+perfection. Look at Willie Darner running down that path! he is just
+crazy with the summer wind and the frolic of an afternoon's holiday.
+There is nothing to match with his enjoyment, unless it be a kitten
+sporting with the flying leaves, or a butterfly floating in the
+sunshine. He has not a care, that boy, except how he is to get over the
+ground fast enough.'
+
+Audrey had only a little bit of the town to traverse, but her progress
+was almost as slow and stately as a queen's. She had so many friends to
+greet, so many smiles and nods and how-d'ye-do's to execute; but at last
+she arrived at her destination. The Gray Cottage was a small stone
+house, placed between Dr. Ross's house and the school-house, with two
+windows overlooking the street. The living-rooms were at the back, and
+the view from them was far pleasanter, as Audrey well knew. From the
+drawing-room one looked down on the rugged court of the school-house,
+and on the gray old arches, through which one passed to the chapel and
+library. The quaint old buildings, with the stone facade, hoary with
+age, was the one feature of interest that always made Audrey think the
+Gray Cottage one of the pleasantest houses in Rutherford. Audrey knew
+every room. She had looked out on the old school-house often and often;
+she knew exactly how it looked in the moonlight, or on a winter's day
+when the snow lay on the ground, and the ruddy light of a December
+sunset tinged the windows and threw a halo over the old buildings. But
+she liked to see it best in the dim starlight, when all sorts of shadows
+seemed to lurk between the arches, and a strange, solemn light invested
+it with a legendary and imaginative interest.
+
+A heavy green gate shut off the Gray Cottage from the road. Audrey
+opened it, and walked up to the door, which had always stood open in the
+old days when her friends, the Powers, had lived there. It was open now;
+a profusion of packing-cases blocked up the spacious courtyard, and a
+black retriever was lying on some loose straw--evidently keeping watch
+and ward over them. He shook himself lazily as Audrey spoke to him, and
+then wagged his tail in a friendly fashion, and finally uttered a short
+bark of welcome.
+
+Audrey stooped down and stroked his glossy head. She always made friends
+with every animal--she had a large four-footed acquaintance with whom
+she was on excellent terms--from Jenny, the cobbler's donkey, down to
+Tim, the little white terrier that belonged to the sweep. She had just
+lost her own companion and follower, a splendid St. Bernard puppy, and
+had not yet replaced him. As she fondled the dog, she heard a slight
+sound near her, and, looking up, met the inquiring gaze of a pair of
+wide-open brown eyes. They belonged to a girl of fourteen, a slight,
+thin slip of a girl in a shabby dress that she had outgrown, and thick
+dark hair tied loosely with a ribbon, and falling in a wavy mass over
+her shoulders, and a small sallow face, looking at the present moment
+very shy and uncomfortable.
+
+'If you please,' she began timidly, and twisting her hands awkwardly as
+she spoke, 'mamma is very tired and has gone to lie down. We only moved
+in yesterday, and the place is in such a muddle.'
+
+'Of course it is in a muddle,' replied Audrey in her pleasant, easy
+fashion. 'That is exactly why I called--to see if I could be of any
+assistance. I am Miss Ross, from the lower school--will you let me come
+in and speak to you? You are Miss Blake, are you not?'
+
+'Yes; I am Mollie,' returned the girl, reddening and looking still more
+uncomfortable. 'I am very sorry, Miss Ross--and it is very good of you
+to call so soon--but there is no place fit to ask you to sit down. Biddy
+is such a bad manager. She ought to have got things far more comfortable
+for us, but she is old--and----'
+
+'Miss Mollie, where am I to find the teapot?' called out a voice
+belonging to some invisible body--a voice with the unmistakable brogue.
+'There's the mistress just dying for a cup of tea, and how will I be
+giving it to her without the teapot? and it may be in any of those dozen
+hampers--bad luck to it!'
+
+'I am coming, Biddy,' sighed the girl wearily, and the flush of
+annoyance deepened in her cheek.
+
+Somehow, that tired young face, burdened with some secret care, appealed
+to Audrey's quick sympathies. She put out her hand and gave her a light
+push as she stood blocking up the entry.
+
+'My dear, I will help you look for the teapot,' she said in the kindest
+voice possible. 'You are just tired to death, and of course it is
+natural that your mother should want her tea. If we cannot find it, I
+will run round and borrow one from the Wrights. Everyone knows what
+moving is--one has to undergo all sorts of discomforts. Let me put down
+my sunshade and lace scarf, and then you will see how useful I can be';
+and Audrey walked into the house, leaving Mollie tongue-tied with
+astonishment, and marched into the dining-room, which certainly looked a
+chaos--with dusty chairs, tables, half-emptied hampers, books, pictures,
+all jumbled up together with no sort of arrangement, just as the men had
+deposited them from the vans. Here, however, she paused, slightly taken
+aback by the sight of another dark head, which raised itself over the
+sofa-cushions, while another pair of brown eyes regarded her with equal
+astonishment.
+
+'It is only Kester,' whispered Mollie. 'I think he was asleep. Kester,
+Miss Ross kindly wishes to help us a little--but--did you ever see such
+a place?' speaking in a tone of disgust and shrugging her shoulders.
+
+'Mollie can't be everywhere,' rejoined the boy, trying to drag himself
+off the sofa as he spoke, and then Audrey saw he was a cripple.
+
+He looked about fifteen, but his long, melancholy face had nothing
+boyish about it. The poor lad was evidently a chronic sufferer; there
+was a permanent look of ill-health stamped on his features, and the
+beautiful dark eyes had a plaintive look in them.
+
+'Mollie does her best,' he went on almost irritably; 'but she and Cyril
+have been busy upstairs getting up the beds and that sort of thing, so
+they could not turn their hand to all this lumber,' kicking over some
+books as he spoke.
+
+'Mollie is very young,' returned Audrey, feeling she must take them
+under her protection at once, and, as usual, acting on her impulse. 'Is
+your name Kester? What an uncommon name! but I like it somehow. I am so
+sorry to see you are an invalid, but you can get about a little on
+crutches?'
+
+'Sometimes, not always, when my hip is bad,' was the brief response.
+
+'Has it always been so?' in a pitying voice.
+
+'Well, ever since I was a little chap, and Cyril dropped me. I don't
+know how it happened; he was not very big, either. It is so long ago
+that I never remember feeling like other fellows'; and Kester sighed
+impatiently and kicked over some more books. 'There I go, upsetting
+everything; but there is no room to move. We had our dinner, such as it
+was, in the kitchen--not that I could eat it, eh, Mollie?'
+
+Mollie shook her head sadly.
+
+'You have not eaten a bit to-day. Cyril promised to bring in some buns
+for tea; but I daresay he will forget all about it.'
+
+A sudden thought struck Audrey: these two poor children did look so
+disconsolate. Mollie's tired face was quite dust-begrimed; she had been
+crying, too, probably with worry and over-fatigue, for the reddened
+eyelids betrayed her.
+
+'I have a bright idea,' she said in her pleasant, friendly way, 'why
+should you not have tea in the garden? You have a nice little lawn, and
+it will not be too sunny near the house. If Biddy will only be good
+enough to boil the kettle I will run and fetch a teapot. It is no use
+hunting in those hampers, you are far too tired, Mollie. We will just
+lift out this little table. I see it has flaps, so it will be large
+enough; and if you can find a few teacups and plates, I will be back in
+a quarter of an hour with the other things.'
+
+Audrey did not specify what other things she meant; she left that a
+pleasing mystery, to be unravelled by and by; she only waited to lift
+out the table, and then started off on her quest.
+
+The Wrights could not give her half she wanted; but Audrey in her own
+erratic fashion was a woman of resources: she made her way quickly to
+Woodcote, and entering it through the back premises, just as her sister
+was walking leisurely up to the front door, she went straight to the
+kitchen to make her raid.
+
+Cooper was evidently accustomed to her young mistress's eccentric
+demands. She fetched one article after another, as Audrey named them: a
+teapot, a clean cloth, a quarter of a pound of the best tea, a little
+tin of cream from the dairy, half a dozen new-laid eggs, a freshly-baked
+loaf hot from the oven, and some crisp, delicious-looking cakes, finally
+a pat of firm yellow butter; and with this last article Audrey
+pronounced herself satisfied.
+
+'You had better let Joe carry some of the things, Miss Audrey,'
+suggested Cooper, as she packed a large basket; 'he is round about
+somewhere.' And Audrey assented to this.
+
+Geraldine was just beginning her Blake story, and Mrs. Ross was
+listening to her with a troubled face, as Audrey, armed with the teapot,
+and followed by Joe with the basket, turned in again at the green gate
+of the Gray Cottage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE BLAKE FAMILY AT HOME
+
+     'Her manner was warm, and even ardent; her sensibility seemed
+     constitutionally deep; and some subtle fire of impassioned
+     intellect apparently burnt within her.'--DE QUINCEY.
+
+
+There was certainly a tinge of Bohemianism in Audrey's nature. She
+delighted in any short-cut that took her out of the beaten track. A
+sudden and unexpected pleasure was far more welcome to her than any
+festivity to which she was bidden beforehand.
+
+'I am very unlike Gage,' she said once to her usual confidant, Captain
+Burnett. 'No one would take us for sisters; even in our cradles we were
+dissimilar. Gage was a pattern baby, never cried for anything, and
+delighted everyone with her pretty ways; and I was always grabbing at
+father's spectacles with my podgy little fingers, and screaming for the
+carving-knife or any such incongruous thing. Do you know my first
+babyish name for father?'
+
+'I believe it was Daddy Glass-Eyes, was it not?' was the ready response,
+for somehow this young man had a strangely retentive memory, and seldom
+forgot anything that interested him.
+
+Audrey laughed.
+
+'I had no idea you would have remembered that. How I loved to snatch off
+those spectacles! "You can't see me now, Daddy Glass-Eyes," I can hear
+myself saying that; "daddy can't see with only two eyes."'
+
+'You were a queer little being even then,' he returned, somewhat dryly.
+'But I believe, as usual, we are wandering from our subject. You are a
+most erratic talker, Audrey. What made you burst out just now into this
+sisterly tirade?'
+
+'Ah, to be sure! I was contrasting myself with Gage; it always amuses
+me to do that. It only proceeded from a speech the Countess made this
+afternoon'; for in certain naughty moods Audrey would term her elder
+sister the Countess. 'She declared half the pleasure of a thing
+consisted in preparation and anticipation; but I disagree with her
+entirely. I like all my pleasures served up to me hot and
+spiced--without any flavour reaching me beforehand. That is why I am so
+charmed with the idea of surprise parties and impromptu picnics, and all
+that kind of thing.'
+
+Audrey felt as though she were assisting at some such surprise party as
+she turned in at the green gate, and relieved Joe of the basket. Mollie
+came running round the side of the house to meet her. She had washed her
+face, and brushed out her tangled hair and tied it afresh.
+
+'Oh, what have you there?' she asked in some little excitement. 'Miss
+Ross, have you really carried all these things? The kettle is boiling,
+and I have some clean cups and saucers. Kester has been helping me. I
+think mamma is awake, for I heard her open her window just now.'
+
+'What a nice, intelligent face she has!' thought Audrey, as she unpacked
+her basket and displayed the hidden dainties before the girl's delighted
+eyes. 'I am sure I shall like Mollie. She is not a bit pretty--I daresay
+Gage and Michael would call her plain; but she has an honest look in her
+brown eyes.' 'Mollie,' speaking aloud, 'if your mother has awakened from
+her nap, she will be quite ready for her tea. May I go into the kitchen
+a moment? I want Biddy to boil these eggs--they are new-laid; and
+perhaps you could find me a plate for the butter'; and as Mollie ran off
+Audrey turned coolly into the kitchen--a pleasant apartment, overlooking
+the street--where she found a little old woman, with a wrinkled face and
+dark, hawk-like eyes, standing by the hearth watching the boiling
+kettle.
+
+The kitchen was in the same state of chaos as the dining-room--the table
+covered with unwashed dishes, and crates half unpacked littering the
+floor. It was evident Biddy was no manager. As she stood there in her
+dirty cotton gown, with her thin gray hair twisted into a rough knot,
+and a black handkerchief tied loosely over her head, she was the image
+of Fairy Disorder; her bent little figure and the blackened poker in her
+hand carried out the resemblance, as she looked up with her bright,
+peering eyes at the tall young lady who confronted her.
+
+'Do you think I could find a saucepan, Biddy?'
+
+'I suppose there is one about somewhere,' was the encouraging answer.
+'Perhaps Miss Mollie will be knowing; she boiled some potatoes for
+dinner.'
+
+'Do you mean this?' regarding the article with some disfavour. 'Would it
+trouble you very much to wash it while I make the tea? I have some nice
+fresh eggs, which I think they will all enjoy.'
+
+But Biddy only returned a snapping answer that was somewhat
+unintelligible, and carried out the saucepan with rather a sour face.
+
+'Disagreeable old thing!' thought Audrey, as she made the tea, but she
+afterwards retracted this hasty judgment.
+
+Biddy was a bad manager, certainly, but she was not without her virtues.
+She was faithful, and would slave herself to death for those she loved;
+but she was old for work, and the 'ache,' as she called it, had got into
+her bones. She had slept on the floor for two nights, and her poor old
+back was tired, and her head muddled with the confusion and her
+mistress's fretful fussiness. Biddy could have worked well if any one
+had told her exactly what to do, but between one order and
+another--between Mr. Cyril's impatience and Miss Mollie's incapable,
+youthful zeal--she was just 'moithered,' as she would have said herself.
+
+She brought back the saucepan after a minute, and Audrey boiled the
+eggs. As she looked down at the hissing, bubbling water, an amused smile
+stole over her features.
+
+'If only Gage could see me now!' she thought; and then Mollie came in
+and rummaged in a big basket for teaspoons.
+
+Audrey carried out her teapot in triumph. Mollie had done her work well
+and tastefully: the snowy cloth was on the table; there were cups and
+saucers and plates; the butter was ornamented with green leaves, the
+cakes were in a china basket. Kester was dusting some chairs.
+
+'Doesn't it look nice!' exclaimed Mollie, quite forgetting her shyness.
+'How I wish Cyril would come in! He does so love things to be nice--he
+and Kester are so particular. Mamma!' glancing up at a window above
+them, 'won't you please to hurry down? May I sit there, Miss Ross? I
+always pour out the tea, because mamma does not like the trouble, and
+Kester always sits next to me.'
+
+'Is your mother an invalid, my dear?' asked Audrey, feeling that this
+must be the case.
+
+'Mamma? Oh no! She has a headache sometimes, but so do I--and Cyril
+often says the same. I think mamma is strong, really. She can take long
+walks, and she often sits up late reading or talking to Cyril; but it
+tries her to do things in the house, she has never been accustomed to
+it, and putting things to rights in Cyril's room has quite knocked her
+up.'
+
+'What are you talking about, you little chatterbox?' interrupted a gay,
+good-humoured voice; and Audrey, turning round, saw a lady in black
+coming quickly towards them: the next moment two hands were held out in
+very friendly fashion. 'I need not ask who our kind visitor is,' went on
+Mrs. Blake. 'I know it must be Miss Ross--no one else could have heard
+of our arrival. Have you ever experienced the delights of a move? I
+think I have never passed a more miserable four-and-twenty hours. I am
+utterly done up, as I daresay my little girl has told you; but the sight
+of that delicious tea-table is a restorative in itself. I had no idea
+Rutherford held such kind neighbours. Mollie, I hope you have thanked
+Miss Ross for her goodness. Dear me, what a figure the child looks!'
+
+'Yes, mamma,' replied Mollie, with a return of her shyness; and she
+slunk behind the tea-tray.
+
+Audrey had apparently no answer ready. The oddest idea had come into her
+mind: Supposing Michael were to fall in love with Mrs. Blake? He was a
+great admirer of beauty, though he was a little fastidious on the
+subject, and certainly, with the exception of Geraldine, Audrey thought
+she had never seen a handsomer woman.
+
+Mrs. Blake's beauty was certainly of no ordinary type: her features were
+small and delicate, and her face had the fine oval that one sees in the
+portraits of Mary Queen of Scots; her complexion was pale and somewhat
+creamy in tint, and set off the dark hazel eyes and dark smooth coils of
+hair to perfection.
+
+The long black dress and widow-like collar and cuffs suited the tall,
+graceful figure; and as Audrey noticed the quick changes of expression,
+the bright smile, and listened to the smooth, harmonious voice, she
+thought that never before had she seen so fascinating a woman.
+
+'Gage will rave about her,' was her mental critique. 'She will say at
+once that she has never seen a more lady-like person--"lady-like," that
+is Gage's favourite expression. And as to Michael--well, it is never
+Michael's way to rave; but he will certainly take a great deal of
+pleasure in looking at Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'Will you sit by me, Miss Ross?' asked her hostess in a winning voice;
+and Audrey woke up from her abstraction, colouring and smiling.
+
+'I have taken a great liberty with your house,' she said, feeling for
+the first time as though some apology were due; for the queenly
+beneficence of Mrs. Blake's manner seemed to imply some condescension on
+her part in accepting such favours. 'I called to see if you needed any
+assistance from a neighbour, and I found poor Mollie looking so tired
+and perplexed that I stayed to help her.'
+
+'Mollie does her best,' replied Mrs. Blake gently; 'but she is a sad
+manager, and so is Biddy. They nearly worry me to death between them. If
+they put a thing straight, it is sure to be crooked again the next
+moment.'
+
+'I am sure Mollie works hard enough,' grumbled Kester; but his mother
+did not appear to hear him.
+
+'I am a wretched manager myself,' she went on. 'If it were not for
+Cyril, I do not know what would become of us. Poor Kester is no use to
+anyone. Would you believe it, Miss Ross, that, when we arrived last
+night, not a bedstead was up? That was Biddy's fault; she forgot to
+remind the men. We all slept on the floor except Kester. Cyril would put
+up his bed for him, though I told him that just for once, and on a
+summer's night, it would not hurt him.'
+
+Mollie and Kester glanced at each other; and then Kester bit his lip,
+and looked down at his plate.
+
+'Oh, mamma,' began Mollie eagerly; but Mrs. Blake gave her a quick,
+reproving look.
+
+'Please don't interrupt, Mollie. I want Miss Ross to understand; she
+must be quite shocked to see such confusion. Cyril said this morning we
+should be all ill if we passed another night in that way; so he and
+Biddy have been putting up the beds, and getting the upstairs rooms in
+order, and Mollie was sent down to make the dining-room a little tidy.'
+
+'But, mamma----' pleaded Molly, turning very red.
+
+'My dear little girl,' observed her mother sweetly, 'Miss Ross can see
+for herself the room has not been touched.'
+
+'Because Kester was asleep, and Cyril told me I must not wake him,'
+persisted Molly, looking ready to cry again; 'and whenever I began,
+either you or Cyril called me;' and here, though Mollie dashed away a
+tear bravely, another followed, and would splash down on her frock, for
+the poor little soul was tired and dispirited, and Miss Ross would think
+she had been idle, instead of having worked like a slave since early
+morning.
+
+'Don't be a goose, Mollie!' retorted Mrs. Blake, with the ready
+good-humour that seemed natural to her; 'you are too old to cry at a
+word. Miss Ross, may I have one of those delicious cakes? I shall feel a
+different woman after my tea. Children, what can have become of your
+brother? I thought he was only going out for half an hour.'
+
+'He is to dine at Woodcote to-night, I believe, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'Yes; Dr. Ross kindly asked him this morning. I must not begin to talk
+about Cyril; that must be a tabooed subject. Of course, a mother has a
+right to be proud of her son--and such a son, too!--but it is not
+necessary for her to bore other people. If you were to ask me'--with a
+low laugh of amusement at her own expense--'if I thought any other
+mother's son could be as handsome and clever and affectionate as my
+Cyril, I should probably say no; but I will be prudent for once: I will
+not try to prejudice you in his favour. Cyril shall stand on his own
+merits to-night; he will not need his mother's recommendation.'
+
+Mrs. Blake made this speech with such a pretty air of assurance, such a
+conviction that there was something pardonable in her egotism, with such
+winning frankness, that Audrey forgave the thoughtless insinuation
+against poor overtasked Mollie. It was evident that Mrs. Blake idolised
+her eldest son; her eyes softened as she mentioned his name.
+
+'Ah, there is his step!' she added hastily. 'No one walks in the same
+way as Cyril does; isn't it a light, springy tread? But,' checking
+herself with another laugh, 'I must really hold my tongue, or you will
+think me a very silly woman.'
+
+'No; I like you all the better for it,' replied Audrey bluntly. She had
+no time to say more, for a gay whistle heralded the new-comer; and the
+next moment a young man vaulted lightly over the low window-sill.
+
+He seemed a little taken aback at the sight of a stranger, shook hands
+rather gravely with Audrey, and then sat down silently beside his
+mother.
+
+Audrey's first thought was that Mrs. Blake had not said a word too much.
+Cyril Blake was certainly a very striking-looking young man. 'He is like
+his mother,' she said to herself; 'he is as handsome in his way as she
+is in hers. There is something foreign in his complexion, and in those
+very dark eyes; it looks as though there were Spanish or Italian blood
+in their veins. She hardly looks old enough to be his mother. Father
+said he was two-and-twenty. What an interesting family they seem! I am
+sure I shall see a great deal of them.'
+
+Cyril was a little silent at first. He was afflicted with the
+Englishman's _mauvaise honte_ with strangers, and was a little young for
+his age, in spite of his cleverness. But Mrs. Blake was not disposed to
+leave him in quiet. She knew that he could talk fluently enough when his
+tongue was once loosened; so she proceeded to tell him of Audrey's
+neighbourly kindness, treating it with an airy grace; and, of course,
+Cyril responded with a brief compliment or two. She then drew him out by
+skilful questions on Rutherford and its inhabitants, to which Audrey
+duly replied.
+
+'And you like the place, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Oh, of course one likes the place where one lives,' she returned
+brightly. 'I was only a little girl when father came to Woodcote, so all
+my happiest associations are with Rutherford. I grumble sometimes
+because the town is so small and there are not enough human beings.'
+
+'There are over three hundred boys, are there not?' asked Cyril, looking
+up quickly.
+
+'Oh, boys! I was not thinking of them. Yes, there are more than three
+hundred. I delight in boys, but one wants men and women as well. We have
+too few types. There are the masters and the masters' wives, and the
+doctors and the vicar, and a curate or two, but that is all. A public
+school is nice, but its society is limited.'
+
+'Limited, but choice.'
+
+'Decidedly choice. Now, in my opinion, people ought not to be too
+exclusive. I am sociable by nature. "The world forgetting, by the world
+forgot" is not to my mind. I like variety even in character.'
+
+'I think we are kindred spirits, my dear Miss Ross. How often have you
+heard me say the same thing, Cyril! That is why I took such a dislike to
+Headingly--the people there were so terribly exclusive and purse-proud.'
+
+'Not purse-proud, mother. You are wrong there.'
+
+'Well, they were very stiff and inhospitable; there was no getting on
+with them at all. I think the Bryces were the worst. Mrs. Bryce is the
+proudest woman I know.'
+
+'Mother,' observed Cyril warningly, 'it is never safe to mention names.
+I think--that is, I am sure I have heard that Mrs. Bryce is a connection
+of Miss Ross.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not!' in an alarmed voice. 'Do--do forgive me my very plain
+speaking.'
+
+'There is no harm done,' returned Audrey lightly. 'Mrs. Bryce is only a
+connection of my sister's by marriage. She is Mr. Harcourt's sister. I
+am afraid I sympathise with you there. I have no special liking for Mrs.
+Bryce myself; she is clever, an excellent manager, but she is a little
+too proper--too fond of laying down the law for my taste.'
+
+'Oh, I am so glad!' clapping her hands. 'Cyril is always keeping me in
+order; he is so afraid what I may say next.'
+
+'You certainly are a most incautious person, mother.'
+
+'See how my children keep me in order,' with an air of much humility.
+'Mrs. Harcourt is your sister, and lives at Rutherford. I do hope she is
+like you, Miss Ross.'
+
+'No, indeed,' shaking her head and laughing. 'We are very different
+persons. Geraldine is far better than I am. She is exceedingly clever,
+most accomplished, and so handsome that everyone falls in love with her
+at first sight. She is quite a little queen here, and no one disputes
+her sway.'
+
+Mrs. Blake gave an eloquent shrug, but she did not venture on a more
+direct answer; and Audrey sat and smiled to herself as she thought that
+Geraldine and Edith Bryce were certainly pattern women.
+
+How pleasant it all was! Audrey had never enjoyed herself more; she was
+making herself quite at home with these Blakes. But surely there was no
+need to hurry home; Gage was with her mother. She might indulge herself
+a little longer. She longed to talk more to Kester and Mollie, but she
+found it impossible to draw them into the conversation. They sat quite
+silent, only every now and then Audrey's quick eyes saw an intelligent
+look flash between them--a sort of telegraphic communication.
+
+'I hope those two poor children are not left out in the cold,' she
+thought uneasily. 'Their brother does not seem to notice them; he and
+his mother are wrapped up in each other. It is hardly fair.'
+
+Again Audrey was forming a hasty judgment.
+
+'The country is not very pretty, is it?' asked Cyril at this moment, and
+she woke up from her reverie.
+
+'It is a little flat, but it has its good points; it is a splendid
+hunting country, as you know. Oh yes, I think it pretty. There are nice
+walks. I am very partial to the grass lanes we have about here. In fine
+weather they are delicious.'
+
+'And you are a good walker?'
+
+'Oh yes. I am strong, and there is nothing I enjoy so much. One is such
+splendid company for one's self. Leo and I used to have such
+expeditions! Leo was a St. Bernard puppy, only he died three weeks ago
+of distemper. I cannot bear to speak of him yet. He was my playfellow,
+and so handsome and intelligent! My cousin, Captain Burnett, has
+promised to find me another dog. He has a Dachs-hund himself--such a
+loving, faithful little creature. He is obliged to take Booty wherever
+he goes, or the poor thing would fret himself to skin and bone. Is that
+retriever your special property?' and Audrey looked at Cyril as she
+spoke.
+
+'No; he belongs to Kester,' he returned carelessly. Then, with a quick
+change of tone: 'Are you tired, old fellow? Would you like me to help
+you indoors?' and, as Kester languidly assented, he picked up his
+crutches, and taking possession of one, substituted his arm, while
+Mollie ran before them with a couple of cushions.
+
+Mrs. Blake looked after them, and a cloud came over her face.
+
+'Is it not sad?' she said, in a melancholy tone. 'That poor boy--he will
+be a drag on Cyril all his life. He will never be able to gain his own
+living. He is fifteen now.'
+
+'It was the result of an accident, was it not?'
+
+But Audrey regretted her abrupt question, as a troubled expression came
+into the mother's eyes.
+
+'Who told you that?' she asked impatiently. 'Of course it was Mollie.
+She is a sad chatterbox. And I suppose she mentioned, too, that it was
+Cyril's fault?'
+
+'Indeed it was not Mollie,' returned Audrey eagerly. 'Kester spoke of it
+himself. He did not enter into particulars. He just said his brother had
+let him fall when he was a child.'
+
+'Yes, it was a sad business,' with a sigh. 'I wonder if anyone has ever
+had so many troubles as I have. Life has been one long struggle to me,
+Miss Ross. But for Cyril I should have succumbed again and again. No
+widowed mother has ever been more blessed in a son;' then, dropping her
+voice: 'Please do not mention the subject before Cyril; he is dreadfully
+sore about it. It was a pure accident: they were all lads together, and
+he and his schoolfellows were racing each other. I think they were
+steeplechasing, and he had Kester on his back. There was a fence and a
+stony ditch, and the foolish child tried to clear it; they might both
+have been killed, it was such a nasty place, but Kester was the only
+one hurt. He was always a delicate little fellow, and hip-disease came
+on. He does not suffer so much now, but he will always be a cripple, and
+he has bad times now and then. Cyril is so good to him; he has never
+forgiven himself for the accident.'
+
+'I can understand that,' returned Audrey in a moved voice; and then
+Cyril came back and she rose to go. 'I shall see you again,' she said
+smiling, as he accompanied her to the gate. 'I hear my father has asked
+you up to Woodcote this evening to meet the Harcourts.'
+
+'Yes,' he returned briefly, looking as though the prospect were a
+formidable one. 'I could not very well refuse Dr. Ross under the
+circumstances.'
+
+'Did you wish to refuse?' rather mischievously.
+
+'No, of course not,' but smiling too; 'I feel as though it were a
+neglect of duty. Look at the muddle in there! and those poor children. I
+have been working like a horse to-day, but there was too much to do
+upstairs; I left the living-rooms for this evening.'
+
+'You can work all the harder to-morrow.'
+
+He shook his head.
+
+'To-morrow I have to begin lessons. I suppose the muddle must just go
+on, and we must live as we can. Biddy is old and worn out, and Mollie is
+too young to direct her.'
+
+'I will come round and help her,' was Audrey's impulsive answer. 'This
+is just the sort of thing I love. I do so enjoy putting a place to
+rights.'
+
+'But, Miss Ross, we have no right to trespass on your kindness,' replied
+Cyril, flushing slightly as he spoke.
+
+But Audrey only smiled and showed her dimple.
+
+'Tell Mollie I shall come,' was her only answer. '_Au revoir_, Mr.
+Blake.'
+
+And Audrey walked on rapidly to Woodcote, feeling that she had spent a
+very amusing afternoon, and quite unaware of the commotion she would
+raise in her mother's and sister's breasts by those few innocently
+spoken words, 'I have been having tea at the Blakes'.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+MICHAEL
+
+     'And when God found in the hollow of His hand
+     This ball of Earth among His other balls,
+     And set it in His shining firmament,
+     Between the greater and the lesser lights,
+     He chose it for the Star of Suffering.'
+
+                                        UGO BASSI.
+
+
+It is better to draw a veil over the scene that followed Audrey's abrupt
+announcement. As Captain Burnett said afterwards, 'Geraldine's attitude
+was superb; she was grand, absolutely grand.'
+
+Mrs. Ross was, as usual, a little plaintive.
+
+'If you had only mentioned where you were going, Audrey,' she said
+quietly; 'but you are so impulsive, my dear. Geraldine would have
+accompanied you with pleasure a little later, and you could have left my
+card, and a civil message for Mrs. Blake; that would have been far
+nicer, would it not, my love?' with an appealing look at her young
+adviser.
+
+'You can send the message by Mr. Blake this evening,' replied Audrey.
+
+She never argued with her mother if she could possibly help it. In the
+first place, it was not filial, and in the second, it was perfectly
+useless, as there was always a mental reservation in Mrs. Ross's mind,
+and she could seldom be induced to decide any question without reference
+to Geraldine.
+
+'I think father might have consulted Percival before he asked another
+guest,' observed Mrs. Harcourt in rather a dubious tone, for she was
+exceedingly jealous of her husband's dignity. 'Percival was told that we
+were to be quite alone. I was not going home to change my dress. But if
+this young man be invited----'
+
+'My darling,' interrupted her mother, 'you must not think of walking
+back all that way--that gown is lovely, is it not, Audrey?--and one more
+person does not signify. No doubt your father was anxious that Percival
+should see Mr. Blake and give him his opinion; he thinks so much of
+Percival's judgment, does he not, Audrey?'
+
+Now here was the opportunity for a douceur, for a nicely-adjusted
+compliment, to smooth her sister's ruffled brow; but Audrey was far too
+blunt and truthful for such finesse.
+
+'Father told me that he wanted Michael to see Mr. Blake--I don't believe
+he was thinking of Percival--because of course the lower school has
+nothing to do with Hillside. There is not the least need of changing
+your gown, Gage, for of course we are only a family party. Will you come
+up with me to my room now, or will you go with mother presently?'
+
+'I will come with you,' returned Mrs. Harcourt.
+
+Audrey was inclined to be contumacious, but she would not yield the
+matter so meekly. Audrey was always more contradictory when Michael was
+in the background; they seemed to play into each other's hand somehow,
+and more than once Geraldine was positive she had heard a softly-uttered
+'Bravo!' at some of Audrey's ridiculous speeches.
+
+'Come along, then,' returned Audrey good-humouredly; and as they left
+the room together, Captain Burnett laid down his book.
+
+'I am afraid she is going to catch it, Cousin Emmeline; it will be a
+case of survival of the fittest--Geraldine is strong, but Audrey can
+hold her own. I back Audrey.'
+
+'My dear,' remonstrated Mrs. Ross, as she put away her knitting, 'you
+talk as though my girls were likely to quarrel. Geraldine is far too
+sweet-tempered to quarrel with anyone; she will only give Audrey a
+little advice--dear Audrey is dreadfully careless, she takes after her
+father in that; John is always doing imprudent things. Geraldine has
+made me most uncomfortable this afternoon; I am quite sure that Mrs.
+Blake will be an undesirable friend for Audrey.'
+
+'Do you always see through other people's spectacles?' he asked quietly.
+'I have a habit of judging things for myself--I never take anything
+second-hand; it is such an unpleasant idea, airing other people's
+opinions. Fancy a sensible human being turning himself into a sort of
+peg or receptacle for other folks' theories! No, thank you, my dear
+cousin; my opinions are all stamped with "Michael Burnett, his mark."'
+
+'Men are different,' she replied tranquilly; and then she left him to go
+in search of her husband.
+
+'What a world we live in, Booty!' observed Captain Burnett, as he walked
+to the window and his four-footed favourite followed him. 'Oh, you want
+a run, do you?' as the little animal looked at him wistfully. 'You think
+your master uncommonly lazy this afternoon--you don't happen to have a
+pain in your leg, do you, old fellow--a nasty gnawing, grumbling sort of
+pain?--there is nothing like neuralgia for making a man lazy. Well, I'll
+make an effort to oblige you, my friend--so off you go'; and Captain
+Burnett threw a stone, and there was a delighted bark and an excited
+patter of the short legs, and Booty vanished round a corner, while his
+master followed him more slowly.
+
+The garden of Woodcote was the best in Rutherford; even the Hill houses
+could not compete with it: an extensive lawn lay before the house, with
+a shrubbery on one side, and the trees and shrubs were exceedingly rare;
+a little below the house the ground sloped rather steeply, and a
+succession of terraces and flower-beds led down to a miniature lake with
+a tiny island; here there were some swans and a punt, and the tall trees
+that bordered the water were the favourite haunt of blackbirds and
+thrushes.
+
+Captain Burnett sat down on a bench facing the water, and Booty stood
+and barked at the swans. How sweet and peaceful everything looked this
+evening! The water was golden in the evening sunshine; a blue tit was
+flashing from one tree to another; some thrushes were singing a
+melodious duet; the swans arched their snowy necks and looked proudly at
+him; some children's voices were audible in the distance. There was a
+thoughtful expression in Captain Burnett's eyes, a concentrated
+melancholy that was often there when he found himself utterly alone.
+
+Captain Burnett had one confidant--his cousin John. Not that he often
+called him by that name, their ages were too dissimilar to permit such
+easy familiarity; but he had once owned to Dr. Ross, to the man who
+loved him as a father, that his life had been a failure.
+
+'Only a failure in the sense that you are no longer fit for active
+duty,' had been the reply. 'You must not forget the Victoria Cross,
+Michael.'
+
+'Oh, that was nothing; any other man would have done the same in my
+place,' Michael had retorted with some heat, for he hated to be reminded
+of his good deeds.
+
+Perhaps he was right: hundreds of brave young Englishmen would have
+acted in the same way had they been placed in the same circumstances.
+The English army is full of heroes, thank God! Nevertheless, Michael
+Burnett had earned his Victoria Cross dearly.
+
+It was in one of the Zulu skirmishes. A detachment of the enemy had
+surprised them at night; but the little handful of men had repulsed them
+bravely. Captain Burnett knew help was at hand; they had only to hold
+out until a larger contingent should join them. He hoped things were
+going well. They had just driven the Zulus backwards, when, in the dim
+light of the flickering watch-fires, he saw dusky figures moving in the
+direction of a hut where a few sick and wounded men had been placed.
+There was not a second to lose; in another moment the poor fellows would
+have been butchered. Calling out to some of his men to follow him, and
+not perceiving that he was alone, he tore through the scrub, and entered
+the hut by a hole that served as a window. Michael once owned that he
+fought like a demon that night; but the thought of the few helpless
+wretches writhing in terror on their pallet beds behind him seemed to
+give him the force of ten men. 'They shall pass only over my body! God
+save my poor fellows!' was his inward cry, as he blocked up the narrow
+doorway and struck at his dusky foes like a madman.
+
+More than one poor lad lived to look back on that day, and to bless
+their gallant deliverer. 'No one else could have done it, sir,' observed
+one of them; 'but the Captain never knew how to give in. I was watching
+them, and I thought the devils would have finished him. He staggered
+back once, and Bob Jaggers gave a groan, for we thought it was all up
+with us; and though I would have made shift to fight before I would be
+killed like a rat in a hole, one could not do much with a broken arm.
+When our men rushed in, he was pretty nearly finished; one of the
+savages had him by the knees. Of course they gave him the Cross. For the
+matter of that, he ought to have had it before.
+
+'Did you ever hear how he saved little Tom Blatchley's life? Well, I
+will tell you'; and hereupon followed one of those touching incidents
+which are so frequent, and which gild with glory even the bloody annals
+of war.
+
+Yes, they gave him the Victoria Cross; but as he lay on his bed of
+suffering, disabled by cruel wounds, Michael knew that he had won it at
+the expense of all that men count dear. 'Greater love hath no man than
+this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' There were times
+when, in his anguish, Michael could have prayed that his life--his
+useless, broken life--might have been taken too. How gladly, how
+thankfully would he have yielded it! how willingly would he have turned
+his face to the wall, and ended the conflict, sooner than endure the far
+bitterer ordeal that lay before him! for he was young, and he knew his
+career was ended, and that, brave soldier as he was, he could no longer
+follow the profession that he loved. It was doubtful for a long time how
+far he would recover from the effects of that terrible night; his wounds
+were long in healing. The principal injuries were in the head and thigh.
+One or two of his physicians feared that he would never walk again; the
+limb seemed to contract, and neuralgic pains made his life a misery. To
+add to his troubles, his nerves were seriously affected, and though he
+was no coward, depression held him at times in its fell grip, and mocked
+him with delusive pictures of other men's happiness. Like Bunyan's poor
+tempted Christian, he, too, at times espied a foul fiend coming over the
+field to meet him, and had to wage a deadly combat with many a doubt and
+hard, despairing thought. 'You are a wreck, Michael Burnett!' the grim
+tempter seemed to say to him. 'Better be quit of it all! Before you are
+thirty your work is over; what will you do with the remainder of your
+life? You are poor--perhaps crippled; no woman will look at you. You
+have your Cross--a little bit of rusty iron--but does such empty glory
+avail? You have aches and pains in plenty; your future looks promising,
+my fine fellow! A hero! In truth those ten minutes have cost you dearly!
+no wonder you repent of your rash gallantry!'
+
+'I repent of nothing,' Michael would rejoin, in that dumb inward
+argument so often renewed. 'If it were to come over again, I would do
+just the same. "Greater love hath no man than this";' for in his
+semi-delirious hours those Divine words seemed to set themselves to
+solemn music, and to echo in his brain with ceaseless repetition. 'A
+life given, a life laid down, a life spent in suffering--is it not all
+the same--a soldier's duty? Shall I shirk my fate? Would it not be
+better to bear it like a man?' and Michael would set his teeth hard, and
+with an inward prayer for patience--for in the struggle the man was
+learning to pray--girded himself up again to the daily fight.
+
+Once, when there had been a fresh outbreak of mischief, and they had
+brought him down to Woodcote, that he might be more carefully nursed
+than in the town lodgings which was all Michael Burnett called home,
+Audrey, who, after her usual pitiful fashion, wore herself out in her
+efforts to soothe and comfort the invalid, once read to him some
+beautiful lines out of a poem entitled 'The Disciples.'
+
+Michael, who was in one of his dark moods, made no comment on the
+passage which she had read in a trembling voice of deep feeling; but
+when she left the room on some errand, he stretched out his hand, and
+read it over again:
+
+     'But if, impatient, thou let slip thy cross,
+     Thou wilt not find it in this world again,
+     Nor in another; here, and here alone,
+     Is given thee to suffer for God's sake.'
+
+When Audrey returned the book was in its place, and Michael was lying
+with his eyes closed, and the frown of pain still knitting his temples.
+He was not asleep, but she dare not disturb him by offering to go on
+with the poem. She sat down at a little distance and looked out of the
+window, rather sorrowfully. How strong she was! how full of health and
+enjoyment! and this poor Michael, who had acted so nobly----Audrey's
+eyes were full of tears. And all the time Michael was saying to himself,
+'After all, I am a coward. What if I must suffer? Life will not last for
+ever.'
+
+By and by Michael owned that even his hard lot had compensations. He
+became used to his semi-invalid existence. Active work of any sort was
+impossible--that is, continuous work. He had tried it when his friends
+had found an easy post for him, and had been obliged to give it up. He
+still suffered severely from neuralgic headaches that left him worn and
+exhausted. His maimed leg often troubled him; he could not walk far, and
+riding was impossible.
+
+'You must make up your mind to be an idle man--at least, for the
+present, Captain Burnett,' one of his doctors had said to him, and
+Michael had languidly acquiesced. To be a soldier had been his one
+ambition, and he cared for little else. He had enough to keep him in
+moderate comfort as a bachelor, and he had faint expectations from an
+uncle who lived in Calcutta; but when questioned on this point, Michael
+owned he was not sanguine.
+
+'My Uncle Selkirk is by no means an old man,' he would say. 'Any
+insurance office would consider his the better life of the two. Besides,
+he might marry--he is not sixty yet; even old men make fools of
+themselves by taking young wives. It is ill waiting for dead men's shoes
+at the best of times. In this case it would be rank stupidity.'
+
+'Then you will never be able to marry, Michael;' for it was to Mrs. Ross
+that this last speech was addressed.
+
+'My dear cousin, do you think any girl would look at a sickly,
+ill-tempered fellow like me?' was the somewhat bitter reply; and Mrs.
+Ross's kind heart was troubled at the tone.
+
+'You should not call yourself names, my dear. You are not ill-tempered.
+No one minds a little crossness now and then. Even John can say a sharp
+word when he is put out. I think you are wrong, Michael. You are rather
+morbid on this point. They say pity is akin to love.'
+
+'But I object to be pitied,' he returned somewhat haughtily; 'and what
+is more, I will commend myself to no woman's toleration. I will not be
+dominated by any weaker vessel. If I should ever have the happiness of
+having a wife--but there will be no Mrs. Michael Burnett, Cousin
+Emmeline--I should love her as well as other men love their wives, but I
+should distinctly insist on her keeping her proper place. Just
+imagine'--working himself up to nervous irritation--'being at the mercy
+of some healthy, high-spirited young creature, who will insult me every
+day with her overplus of pure animal enjoyment. The effect on me would
+be crushing--absolutely crushing.'
+
+'Audrey is very high-spirited, Michael, but I am sure she sympathises
+with you as nicely as possible.'
+
+'We were not speaking of Audrey, were we?' he replied, with a slight
+change of expression. 'I think it is the Ross idiosyncrasy to wander
+hopelessly from any given subject; I imagined that we were suggesting an
+impossible wife for your humble servant. Far be it from me to deny
+myself comfort in the shape of feminine cousins or friends.'
+
+'Yes, of course; and Geraldine and Audrey are just like your sisters,
+Michael.'
+
+'Are they?' a little dryly. 'Well, as I never had a sister, I cannot be
+a good judge; but from what other fellows tell me, I imagine Audrey
+bullies me enough to be one. Anyhow, I take the brotherly prerogative of
+bullying her in return.'
+
+And with this remarkable statement the conversation dropped.
+
+Captain Burnett spent half his time with his cousins, oscillating
+between Woodcote and his lodgings in town. Dr. Ross wished him to live
+with them entirely; he had a great respect and affection for his young
+kinsman, and, as he often told his wife, Michael helped him in a hundred
+ways.
+
+'He has the clearest head and the best common-sense I ever knew in any
+man. I would trust Mike's judgment before my own. Poor fellow! he has
+gone through so much himself, that I think he sees deeper into things
+than most people. It is wonderful what knowledge of character he has.
+The boys always say there is no cheating the Captain.'
+
+Michael owned himself grateful for his cousin's kindness, but he
+declined to call Woodcote his home.
+
+'I must have my own diggings,' was his answer--'a burrow where I can run
+to earth when my pet fiend tries to have a fling at me. Seriously, there
+are times when I am best alone--and, then, in town one sees one's
+friends. For a sick man, or whatever you like to call me, my taste is
+decidedly gregarious. "I would not shut me from my kind." Oh dear no!
+There is no study so interesting as human nature, and I am avowedly a
+student of anthropology; London is the place for a man with a hobby like
+mine.'
+
+Nevertheless, the chief part of Captain Burnett's time had been spent
+latterly at Woodcote.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE NEW MASTER
+
+     'We agree pretty well in our tastes and habits--yet so as "with a
+     difference." We are generally in harmony, with occasional
+     bickerings, as it should be among near relatives.'--ESSAYS OF
+     'ELIA.'
+
+
+Booty grew tired of barking at the swans long before his master had
+roused from his abstraction; it was doubtful how much longer Captain
+Burnett would have sat with his eyes fixed dreamily on the water, if a
+tall figure in white had not suddenly appeared under the arching trees,
+and Audrey stood before him.
+
+'I knew where I should find you,' she said, as he rose rather slowly
+from his seat. 'I have christened this bench Michael's Seat. How sweet
+the lake looks this evening! I wish I could stay to enjoy it, but I must
+go back to the drawing-room. Percival has come, and, do you know, the
+dressing-gong sounded ten minutes ago, and you have taken no notice of
+it.'
+
+'I will go at once,' was the answer, but to his surprise she stopped
+him.
+
+'Wait one moment, Michael; I have to ask you a favour. I want you to be
+kind, and to take a great deal of notice of Mr. Blake. He is very young
+and shy, and though his mother says he is so clever--and, indeed, father
+says so, too--one would not find it out, because he is so quiet, and you
+know how formidable Percival must be to a shy person.'
+
+'And you want me to take your new _protege_ under my wing?' he returned,
+dissembling his surprise.
+
+She had put her hands on his arm, and was speaking with unusual
+earnestness, and he knew, by a certain look in her eyes, that something
+had vexed her.
+
+'He is not my _protege_,' she answered quickly. 'You talk as though he
+were a boy, a mere child, instead of being what he is--an exceedingly
+clever and gentlemanly young man. Michael, you generally understand
+me--you are always my ally when Percival is on his high horse--and I
+want you to stand Mr. Blake's friend to-night.'
+
+'And I am not even to form my own opinion? Supposing the moment I shake
+hands with your pro--I mean your visitor--I become conscious of an
+inward antagonism? You see, Audrey, I am subject to likes and dislikes,
+in common with other people.'
+
+'Oh, you must try to like him,' she returned impatiently. 'I am very
+much interested in the whole family. We always like the same people,
+Michael--do we not?' in a coaxing voice. 'I know the Marquis will wear
+his most judicial aspect to-night; he will perfectly annihilate poor Mr.
+Blake;' for this was another sobriquet which Audrey applied to her
+brother-in-law.
+
+They were walking towards the house, but at this point Captain Burnett
+thought fit to stand still and shake his head, with a grieved expression
+of face.
+
+'My dear Audrey, I should like to see you on more sisterly terms with
+Gage's husband.'
+
+'Don't be silly,' was the only response; 'one cannot choose one's
+brother-in-law. The Marquis makes Gage a splendid husband--no one else
+could have mastered her--but I never could get on with a man who always
+thinks he is right about everything. Percival is too immaculate in his
+own and his wife's eyes to be in harmony with a sinner like myself; and
+I don't mind confessing to you, Michael, that he never opens his mouth
+without my longing to contradict him.'
+
+Audrey said this with such perfect _naivete_ and candour that Captain
+Burnett could only smile, though sheer honesty made him say a moment
+afterwards:
+
+'I think, indeed I have always thought, that you undervalue Harcourt. He
+is a fine fellow in his way. I like a man to be strong, and Harcourt is
+strong--he has no pettiness in his nature. He is rather a severe critic,
+perhaps--and demands a little too much from other people--but you will
+find that he always practises what he preaches.'
+
+'I wish he understood me better,' was the rueful response. 'Unhappily,
+he and Gage think their mission is to reform me. Now, Michael, do be
+quick, or the dinner-bell will ring;' and Audrey waved her hand gaily,
+and turned into the house, while Michael and his faithful Booty
+followed her more slowly.
+
+When Audrey entered the drawing-room she found her brother-in-law
+standing in his favourite attitude before the fireplace--he was
+evidently holding forth on some interesting topic, for Dr. Ross was
+listening to him with an amused expression of face, and Geraldine was
+watching him with admiring wifely eyes. He broke off, however, to greet
+Audrey, and there was brotherly warmth in his manner as he shook hands
+with her and asked after her health--a mere civility on his part, as
+Audrey was never ill.
+
+Mr. Harcourt was a good-looking man of about forty--perhaps he was a
+year or two more, but he was young-looking for his age, and the absence
+of beard and moustache gave him a still more youthful aspect; the slight
+tinge of gray in his hair seemed to harmonise with the well-cut
+features. The mouth was especially handsome, though a sarcastic
+expression at times distinguished it. His figure was good, and without
+being tall, he carried himself with so much dignity as to give the
+impression of height. He was a man who would always be noticed among
+other men on account of his strong individuality and sheer force of
+character.
+
+Audrey was right when she owned that he made a splendid husband for
+Geraldine. Mr. Harcourt was exceedingly proud of his beautiful wife; but
+from the first hour of her married life he had made her understand that
+though she managed other people, including her own mother, her husband
+was to be the one exception--that, in other words, he fully intended to
+be Geraldine's master.
+
+Geraldine had to learn this lesson even on her wedding-day. There was
+some little confusion at the last--a small hitch in the domestic
+arrangements--and someone, Dr. Ross probably, proposed that the happy
+couple should wait for a later train; they could telegraph, and dinner
+could be put back for an hour. Geraldine endorsed her father's opinion;
+perhaps, at the last minute, the young bride would fain have lingered
+lovingly in the home that had sheltered her so happily.
+
+'It is a good idea. We should have to drive so dreadfully fast,' she
+said with some eagerness. 'Yes, we will stay, Percival.'
+
+'My darling, there is someone else to consult,' he returned, taking her
+hand; 'and someone else votes differently. Dr. Ross, will you ask them
+to send round the carriage. Geraldine has had excitement enough; it
+will be far better for us to go.' Geraldine did not like her husband any
+the worse for showing her that he meant to manage for both for the
+future. She was clever enough to take the hint, and to refer to him on
+all occasions. Before many weeks were over, young Mrs. Harcourt had so
+fully identified herself with her husband's interests, was so strangely
+impregnated with his opinions, that she insensibly reproduced them--'and
+Percival thinks so and so' now replaced the old decided 'that is my
+opinion,' which had hitherto leavened her conversation.
+
+'Who would have thought that Geraldine, who snubbed all her lovers so
+unmercifully, and who never would listen to one until Percival "came,
+saw, and conquered"--who would have imagined that this very exacting
+young woman would have turned out a submissive and pattern wife?' was
+Audrey's remark when she returned from her first visit to Hillside.
+
+But in her heart she respected her brother-in-law for the change he had
+effected.
+
+'Well, Audrey,' observed Mr. Harcourt, with a mischievous twinkle in his
+eyes, 'so I hear you have been enacting the part of Good Samaritan to
+the widow Blake and her children. What do you think of the bewitching
+widow and her Mary Queen of Scots beauty? Did she make an impression,
+eh?'
+
+'She is very handsome,' returned Audrey curtly; for she was not pleased
+with her brother-in-law's quizzical tone.
+
+How long had she stopped out with Michael? Barely ten minutes; and yet
+Percival was in possession of the whole story.
+
+'I shall be writing to Edith to-night, and I must tell her all about
+it,' he went on, for if there was one thing in which he delighted, it
+was teasing Audrey, and getting a rise out of her. In reality he was
+very fond of her; he admired her simplicity and the grand earnestness of
+her character; but he took the brotherly liberty of disagreeing with her
+upon some things. He told his wife privately that his one desire was to
+see Audrey married to the right man.
+
+'She is a fine creature, but she wants training and keeping in order;
+and I know the man who would just do for her,' he said once.
+
+But though Geraldine implored him to say whom he meant, and mentioned a
+dozen names in her womanly curiosity, Mr. Harcourt could not be induced
+to say more. He was no matchmaker, he thanked Heaven; he would be
+ashamed to meddle with such sacred mysteries. If there were one thing on
+which no human opinion ought to rashly intrude, it was when two people
+elected to enter the holy state of matrimony. It was enough that he knew
+the man, though he never intended to take a step to bring them together.
+
+'I think we had better drop the subject, as Mr. Blake will be here
+directly,' retorted Audrey, in her most repressive tones. 'Father, do
+you know you have forgotten to wind up the drawing-room clock? I think
+it must be nearly seven.'
+
+'It is past seven,' answered her brother-in-law, producing his watch.
+'Mr. Blake is keeping the dinner waiting. No one but a very young man
+would venture to commit such a solecism. Under the circumstances, it is
+really a breach of good manners. Don't you agree with me, Dr. Ross?'
+
+But Dr. Ross hesitated; he rarely agreed with such sweeping assertions.
+Geraldine murmured 'Very true,' which her mother echoed.
+
+'That is too bad!' exclaimed Audrey, who never could hold her tongue.
+'If you had only seen the state of muddle they are in at the Gray
+Cottage! I daresay Mr. Blake has been unable to find anything; his
+mother does not seem a good manager. Hush! I hear a bell!'--interrupting
+herself. 'Now you will not be kept any longer from your dinner,
+Percival.'
+
+'I was not thinking of myself,' he returned, with rather an annoyed air;
+for he was a quick-tempered man, and he was really very hungry. Thanks
+to his wife's splendid management, the meals were always punctual at
+Hillside. A deviation of five minutes would have boded woe to the best
+cook. Mr. Harcourt was no domestic tyrant; the boys, the servants,
+always looked upon him as a kind friend; but he was an exact
+disciplinarian, and the wheels of the domestic machinery at Hillside
+went smoothly. If Geraldine complained that one of the servants did not
+do her duty, his answer was always prompt: 'Send her away and get
+another. A servant without a conscience will never do for me.' But, as a
+matter of fact, no master was better served.
+
+To Audrey's relief, Michael appeared with Mr. Blake. He came in looking
+a little pale from the exertion of dressing so hurriedly, and Audrey's
+conscience pricked her for want of consideration as she saw that he
+limped more than usual, always a sign with him of over-fatigue. Mr.
+Blake looked handsomer than ever in evening dress, and Audrey noticed
+that Geraldine looked at him more than once, as though his appearance
+struck her. He certainly seemed very shy, and made his excuses to his
+hostess in a low voice.
+
+'I ought not to have accepted Dr. Ross's kind invitation,' he said,
+starting a little as the dinner-bell immediately followed his entrance;
+'everything is in such confusion at home.'
+
+'I suppose it was like hunting for a needle in a truss of hay,' observed
+Michael, in a genial voice. 'I can imagine the difficulties of making a
+toilet under such moving circumstances. No pun intended, I assure you.
+Don't look as though you want to hit me, Harcourt. I would not be guilty
+of a real pun for the world.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt was unable to reply at that moment, as he had to offer
+Audrey his arm and follow Dr. Ross into the dining-room; but as soon as
+they were seated and grace had been said, he addressed Michael.
+
+'I need not ask an omnivorous reader as you are, Burnett, if you
+remember "Elia's" remarks about puns.'
+
+'I suppose you mean that "a pun is a pistol let off at the ear, not a
+feather to tickle the intellect." Poor old "Elia"! what a man he was!
+With all his frailties he was adorable.'
+
+'Humph! I should be sorry to go as far as that; but I own I like his
+quaint, racy style. Dr. Ross is a fervent admirer of "St. Charles," as
+Thackeray once called him.'
+
+'Indeed, I am. I agree with Ainger in regarding him as the last of the
+Elizabethans. I love his fine humour and homely fantastic grandeur of
+style,' returned Dr. Ross warmly. 'The man's whole life, too, is so
+wonderfully pathetic. Few scenes in fiction are so touching as that sad
+scene where the unhappy Mary Lamb feels the dreaded attack of insanity
+coming on, and brother and sister, hand-in-hand, and weeping as they go,
+perform that sorrowful journey across the fields to the house where Mary
+is to be sheltered. I used to cry over that story as a boy.'
+
+Audrey drew a long breath of relief. Her father had started on one of
+his hobbies. All would be well now.
+
+For one moment she had been anxious, very anxious. Like other men,
+Michael had his weaknesses. Nothing would annoy him more than to be
+supposed guilty of a premeditated pun. He always expressed a great deal
+of scorn for what he called a low form of wit--'and which is as far
+removed from wit,' he would add, 'as the slums of the Seven Dials are
+from Buckingham Palace.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt was quite aware of this fastidious dislike on Michael's
+part. It was, therefore, in pure malice that he had asked that question
+about 'Elia'; but Michael's matter-of-fact answer had baffled him, and
+the sole result had been to start a delightful discussion on the
+writings of Charles Lamb and his contemporaries--a subject on which all
+three men talked exceedingly well.
+
+Audrey listened to them with delight. She was aware that Mr. Blake, who
+sat next her, was silent too. When a pause in the conversation occurred,
+she turned round to address him, and found him regarding her with an air
+of intelligent curiosity.
+
+'You seem to take a great deal of interest in all this,' he said, with a
+smile. 'Most ladies would consider it dry. I suppose you read a great
+deal.'
+
+'I am afraid not. I love reading, but one finds so much else to do. But
+it is always a pleasure to me to hear my father talk. My brother-in-law,
+too, is a very clever man.'
+
+'So I should imagine. And Captain Burnett--is he also a relative?'
+
+'Only a sort of cousin. But he has no nearer ties, and he spends half
+his time at Woodcote. My sister and I look upon him as a brother--in
+fact, he has supplied a great want in my life. From a child I have so
+longed to have a brother of my own.'
+
+Mr. Blake looked down at his plate.
+
+'A brother is not always an undivided blessing,' he said in a low voice,
+'especially when he is a daily and hourly reproach to one. Oh, you know
+what I mean,' throwing back his head with a quick, nervous gesture. 'My
+mother says she has told you. I saw you looking at Kester this
+afternoon, but you are aware it was all my fault.'
+
+'But it was only an accident,' she returned gently. 'I hope that you are
+not morbid on the subject, Mr. Blake. Boys are terribly venturesome. I
+wonder more of them are not hurt. I am quite sure Kester does not blame
+you.'
+
+'No, you are right there; but somehow it is difficult for me to forget
+that my unlucky slip has spoiled the poor fellow's life. He is very good
+and patient, and we do all we can for him; but one dare not glance at
+the future. Excuse my bothering you with such a personal matter, but I
+cannot forget the way you looked at Kester; and then my mother said she
+had told you the whole story.'
+
+'I was very much interested,' she began, but just then Mr. Harcourt
+interrupted them by a remark pointedly addressed to Mr. Blake, so that
+he was obliged to break off his conversation with Audrey. This time the
+ladies were decidedly bored--none of them could follow the discussion;
+the conversation at Woodcote was rarely pedantic, but this evening Mr.
+Harcourt chose to argue a purely scholastic question--some translation
+from the Greek, which he declared to be full of gross errors.
+
+Audrey felt convinced that the subject had been chosen with the express
+purpose of crushing the new master; on this topic Michael would be
+unable to afford him the slightest help. True, he had been studying
+Greek for his own pleasure the last two years at her father's
+suggestion, and had made very fair progress, but only a finished scholar
+could have pronounced with any degree of certainty on such a knotty
+point.
+
+She was, therefore, all the more surprised and pleased when she found
+that Mr. Blake proved himself equal to the occasion. He had kept
+modestly in the background while the elder men were speaking, but when
+Mr. Harcourt appealed to him he took his part in the conversation quite
+readily, and expressed himself with the greatest ease and fluency;
+indeed, he not only ventured to contradict Mr. Harcourt, but he brought
+quite a respectable array of authorities to back his opinions.
+
+Audrey felt so interested in watching the changes of expression on her
+brother-in-law's face that she was quite reconciled to the insuperable
+difficulties that such a topic offered to her understanding. The
+sarcastic curve round Mr. Harcourt's mouth relaxed; he grew less dry and
+didactic in speech; each moment his manner showed more earnestness and
+interest. The silent young master was by no means annihilated; on the
+contrary, he proved himself a worthy antagonist. Audrey was quite sorry
+when Geraldine, stifling a yawn, gave her mother an imploring glance.
+Mrs. Ross willingly took the hint, and as Michael opened the door for
+them he whispered in Audrey's ear: 'He is quite capable of taking care
+of himself.' And Audrey nodded assent.
+
+She lingered in the hall a moment to look out on the moonlight, and on
+opening the drawing-room door she heard a few words in Geraldine's
+voice:
+
+'Splendidly handsome--dangerously so, in my opinion; what do you think,
+mother?'
+
+'Well, my dear, I have seldom seen a finer-looking young man; and then
+his manners are so nice. Some clever young people are always pushing
+themselves into the conversation; they think nothing of silencing older
+men. Mr. Blake seems very modest and retiring.'
+
+'Yes, but he is too handsome,' was the regretful reply; and then Audrey
+joined them.
+
+'I knew you would say so,' she observed, with quite a pleased
+expression. 'Handsome is hardly the word; Mr. Blake has a beautiful
+face--he is like a Greek god.'
+
+Geraldine drew herself up a little stiffly.
+
+'My dear Audrey, how absurd! do Greek gods have olive complexions? How
+Percival will laugh when I tell him that!'
+
+'To be sure,' returned Audrey calmly; 'thank you for reminding me that
+you are married, Gage; I am always forgetting it. That is the worst of
+having one's sister married; one is never sure that one's little jokes
+and speeches are not repeated. Now, as my confidences are not intended
+for Percival, I will learn slowly and painfully to hold my tongue for
+the future.'
+
+This very natural speech went home, as Audrey intended it should. With
+all her dictatorial ways and clever management, Geraldine had a very
+warm heart.
+
+'Oh, Audrey dear,' she said, quite grieved at this, 'I hope you are not
+speaking seriously. Of course I will not repeat it to Percival if you do
+not wish it; but when you are married yourself you will know how
+difficult it is to keep back any little thing that interests one.'
+
+'When I am married--I mean, if I be ever married,' substituted Audrey,
+blushing a little, as girls will--'I hope I shall be quite as capable of
+self-control and discrimination as in my single days. I have never
+considered the point very closely; but now I come to think of it, I
+would certainly have an understanding with my husband on the
+wedding-day. "My dear Clive," I would say to him--Clive is a favourite
+name of mine; I hope I shall marry a Clive--"you must understand once
+for all that, though I intend to treat you with wifely confidence, I
+shall only tell my own secrets--not other people's." And he will reply,
+"Audrey, you are the most honourable of women. I respected you before; I
+venerate you now."'
+
+'Audrey, how you talk!' But Mrs. Harcourt could not help laughing.
+Audrey was looking very nice this evening; white always suited her. To
+be sure, her hair might have been smoother. 'There is some sort of charm
+about her that is better than beauty,' she thought, with sisterly
+admiration; and then she asked her mother if she did not think Percival
+looked a little pale.
+
+'He works too hard,' she continued; 'and he will not break himself of
+his old bachelor habit of sitting up late.'
+
+'Men like their own way; you must not be too anxious,' retorted Mrs.
+Ross tranquilly. 'When I first married, I worried myself dreadfully
+about your father; but I soon found it was no use. And look at him now;
+late hours have not hurt him in the least. No one has better health than
+your father.'
+
+But the young wife was only half comforted.
+
+'My father's constitution is different,' she returned. 'Percival is
+strong; but his nerves are irritable; his organisation is more
+sensitive. It is burning both ends of the candle. I tell him he uses
+himself up too lavishly.'
+
+'I used to say much the same things to your father, but he soon cured
+me. He asked me once why I was so bent on bringing him round to my
+opinions. "I do not try to alter yours," I remember he said once, in his
+half-joking way. "I do not ask you to sit up with me; though, no doubt,
+that is part of your wifely duty. I allow you to go to bed when you are
+sleepy, in the most unselfish way. So, my dear, you must allow me the
+same liberty of action." And, would you believe it, I never dared say
+another word to him on the subject.'
+
+'You are a model wife, are you not, mother?' observed Audrey
+caressingly.
+
+'No, dear; I never deserved your father,' returned Mrs. Ross, with much
+feeling, and the tears started to her eyes. 'If only my girls could have
+as happy a life! I am sure dear Geraldine has done well for
+herself--Percival makes her an excellent husband; and if I could only
+see you happily settled, Audrey, I should be perfectly satisfied.'
+
+'Are you so anxious to lose me?' asked the younger girl reproachfully.
+'You must find me a man as good as father, then. I am not so sure that I
+want to be married; I fancy an old maid's mission will suit me best. I
+have too many plans in my head; no respectable man would tolerate me.'
+
+'May I ask what you ladies are talking about?' asked Captain Burnett, as
+he sauntered lazily round the screen that, even in summer-time, shut in
+the fireplace, and made a cosy corner. Mr. Blake followed him.
+
+Audrey looked at them both calmly.
+
+'I was only suggesting my possible mission as a single woman. Don't you
+think I should make a charming old maid, Michael?' and Audrey folded
+her beautifully-shaped arms, and drew herself up; but her dimple
+destroyed the effect. Cyril Blake darted a quick look at her; then he
+crossed the room and sat down by Mrs. Ross, and talked to her and
+Geraldine until it was time for him to take his leave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE GRAY COTTAGE
+
+     'I think I love most people best when they are in adversity; for
+     pity is one of my prevailing passions.'--MARY WOLSTONECRAFT
+     GODWIN'S LETTER.
+
+
+The next morning, as Captain Burnett was strolling across the
+tennis-lawn in search of a shady corner where he could read his paper,
+he encountered Audrey. She was walking in the direction of the gate, and
+had a basket of flowers in her hand.
+
+She was hurrying past him with a nod and a smile, but he coolly stopped
+her.
+
+'May I ask where you are going, my Lady Bountiful?' for this was a name
+he often called her, perhaps in allusion to her sweet, bountiful nature;
+but Audrey, in her simplicity, had never understood the compliment.
+
+She hesitated a moment; and this was so unusual on her part, that
+Captain Burnett metaphorically pricked up his ears. To use his own
+language, he immediately scented the whole business.
+
+'I am going into the town; but I have a great deal to do,' she returned
+quickly. 'Please do not detain me, Michael. I am not like you: I cannot
+afford the luxury of idleness.'
+
+'Well, no; it is rather a dear commodity, certainly,' he replied
+pleasantly, though that hasty speech made him inwardly wince, as though
+someone had touched an unhealed wound. 'Luxury of idleness!' how he
+loathed it!
+
+'If you are too long, I shall come and look after you,' he continued
+significantly; but to this she made no reply. She took herself to task
+as she walked on. She had not been perfectly open with Michael, but then
+he had no right to question her movements. She had spoken the truth; she
+certainly had business in the town--several orders to give--before she
+went to the Gray Cottage. Michael was her ally--her faithful, trusty
+ally. No knight sworn to serve his liege lady had ever been more
+zealous in his fealty. But even to Michael she did not wish to confess
+that the greater part of the morning would be spent at the Gray Cottage.
+
+Audrey had no idea that her cousin had guessed her little secret--that
+he was smiling over it as he unfolded his paper. Her conscience was
+perfectly easy with regard to her motives. Pure compassion for those two
+poor children was her only inducement. There was no danger of
+encountering the elder brother.
+
+The windows of the great schoolroom opened on the terrace, and as Audrey
+had passed to gather her flowers she had had a glimpse of a dark,
+closely-cropped head, and the perfect profile that she had admired last
+night, and she knew the new master would be fully occupied all the
+morning. Audrey felt a little needle-prick of unavailing compunction as
+she remembered her allusion to the Greek god yesterday.
+
+'I wish I were not so foolishly outspoken!' she thought. 'I always say
+just what comes into my head. With some people it would not matter--with
+Michael, for example. He never misunderstands one's meaning. But poor
+dear Gage is so literal. Clever as she is, she has no sense of humour.'
+
+Here she paused at the grocer's to give her orders, but directly she
+left the shop she took up the same thread again:
+
+'I am always making resolutions to be more careful, but it never seems
+any use. The thoughts will come tumbling out like ill-behaved children
+just let out of school. There is no keeping them in order. I fancy Mr.
+Blake is outspoken, too, when he gets rid of his shyness. I was so
+surprised when he blurted out that little bit about his brother. He
+looked so sad over it, too. I think I must have made a mistake in
+supposing that he only cared for his mother. It was odd to make me his
+confidante; but, then, people always do tell me things. He is Irish, of
+course. Irishmen are always impulsive.'
+
+But here another list of orders to be given at the ironmonger's checked
+these vague musings.
+
+Audrey was fully expected at the Cottage. She had hardly lifted the
+latch of the gate before Mollie appeared in the doorway.
+
+'I knew you would come,' she said shyly, as Audrey kissed her and put
+the flowers in her hands. 'Oh what lovely flowers! Are they for mamma,
+Miss Ross? Thank you ever so much! Mamma is so passionately fond of
+flowers, and so is Cyril.'
+
+'And not Kester?'
+
+'Oh yes; he loves them too,' burying her face in the delicious
+blossoms--'roses especially; they are his favourite flowers. But, of
+course, no one thinks of sending them to Kester; he is only a boy.'
+
+'And I daresay you like them, too?'
+
+Mollie vehemently nodded assent.
+
+'Well, then, I shall bring you and Kester some next time. You are right
+in thinking those are for your mother. May I go in and speak to
+her?--for we have to be very busy, you know.'
+
+'Mamma is not up yet,' returned Mollie; and as Audrey looked surprised,
+she added quickly: 'She and Cyril sat up so late last night. She was
+wanting to hear all about his evening, and it was such a lovely night
+that they were in the garden until nearly twelve o'clock, and so, of
+course, she is tired this morning.'
+
+Audrey made no reply to this. Mrs. Blake was charming, but she was
+certainly a little erratic in her habits. No wonder there was so little
+comfort in the house when the mistress disliked early rising.
+
+Mollie seemed to take it as a matter of course; besides, she was too
+much absorbed in the flowers to notice Miss Ross's reproving silence.
+She rushed off to find a jug of water, and Audrey turned into the
+dining-room, which presented the same aspect of confusion that it had
+worn yesterday. Kester was on his knees trying to unpack a hamper of
+books. It cost him a painful effort to rise, and he looked so pale and
+exhausted that Audrey at once took him in hand.
+
+'My dear boy,' she said kindly, as she helped him to the sofa, 'how very
+imprudent! You have no right to try your strength in that way. How could
+Mollie let you touch those books!'
+
+'She has everything to do, and I wished to help her,' he returned,
+panting with the exertion. 'Cyril wants his books so badly, and he has
+put up the bookcase, you see. He did that this morning--he had scarcely
+time to eat his breakfast--and then he asked Mollie if she would unpack
+the books.'
+
+'I will help Mollie,' returned Audrey, laying aside her hat. 'Now,
+Kester, I want to ask you a favour. You will only be in our way here.
+Will you please take possession of that nice hammock-chair that someone
+has put outside the window? and we will just fly round, as the Yankee
+domestics say.'
+
+Audrey spoke with such good-natured decision, with such assurance of
+being obeyed, that Kester did not even venture on a grumbling
+remonstrance--the poor fellow was too much accustomed to be set on one
+side, and to be told that he was no use. But Audrey had no intention of
+leaving him in idleness.
+
+'By and by, when the room is a little clearer, you can be of the
+greatest help to us; for you can sit at the table and dust the books in
+readiness for us to arrange.' And Kester's face brightened up at that.
+
+Audrey was quite in her element. As she often told her mother, she was
+robust enough for a housemaid. The well-ordered establishment at
+Woodcote, with its staff of trained domestics and its excellent matron,
+afforded little scope for her youthful activities. Mrs. Ross was her own
+housekeeper, and though she had contentedly relinquished her duties to
+Geraldine for the last few years, she had not yet offered to transfer
+them to Audrey.
+
+Audrey pretended to be a little hurt at this arrangement, but in reality
+she was secretly relieved. Her tastes were not sufficiently domestic.
+She liked better to supplement her mother's duties than to take the
+entire lead. In her way she was extremely useful. She wrote a great many
+of the business letters, undertook all the London shopping, and assisted
+Mrs. Ross in entertaining her numerous visitors, many of whom were the
+boys' mothers; and though Mrs. Ross still regretted the loss of her
+elder daughter, and complained that no one could replace Geraldine, she
+was fully sensible of Audrey's efficiency and good-humoured and ready
+help.
+
+'Audrey is as good as gold, and does all I want her to do,' she said to
+Geraldine, when the latter had questioned her very closely on the
+subject.
+
+It was no trouble to Audrey to dash off half a dozen letters before
+post-time, or to drive into Sittingbourne to meet a batch of boys'
+relatives. She was naturally active, and hated an idle moment; but no
+work suited her so well as this Herculean task of evoking order out of
+the Blake chaos. Molly was so charmed with her energy, so fired by her
+example, that she worked like a dozen Mollies. The books were soon
+unpacked and on the table; then Biddy was called in to clear away the
+straw and hampers, and to have a grand sweep. Nothing more could be done
+until this had been carried out, so they left Biddy to revel in dust and
+tea-leaves, while they turned out another hamper or two in the kitchen;
+for in the course of their labours Mollie had confided to Audrey that
+certain indispensable articles were still missing.
+
+'The best thing would be to get rid of as many of the hampers as
+possible,' replied Audrey; 'they are only in the way; let us pack them
+up in the yard, and then one can have room to move.'
+
+When Biddy had finished her labours and all the dirt had been removed,
+Kester hobbled in willingly to dust the books, and Audrey and Mollie
+arranged them on the shelves. There were not so very many, but they were
+all well and carefully chosen--Greek and Latin authors, all Carlyle's
+and Emerson's works, a few books of history and philosophy, the
+principal poets, and some standard works of fiction: Dickens, Thackeray,
+and Sir Walter Scott--the latter bound very handsomely. Audrey felt
+sure, as she placed the books on the shelves, that this little library
+was collected by a great deal of self-denial and effort. The young
+student had probably little money to spare. With the exception of Sir
+Walter Scott and Thackeray, none of the books were handsomely bound;
+that they were well read was obvious, for a volume of Browning's poems
+happening to fall from her hand, Audrey could see profuse pencil-marks,
+and one philosophical book had copious notes on the margin.
+
+'They are all Cyril's books,' observed Mollie, unconsciously answering
+Audrey's thought. 'Poor Cyril! it is such a trouble to him that he
+cannot afford to buy more books. When he was at Oxford he used to go
+without things to get them; he said he would sooner starve than be
+without books. Is it not sad to be so dreadfully poor, Miss Ross? But I
+suppose you don't know how it feels. Mamma bought him that lovely
+edition of Thackeray--oh, and Sir Walter Scott's novels too. Don't you
+like that binding? it is very expensive. Cyril was so vexed at mamma's
+spending all that money on him when Kester wanted things, I am afraid he
+hardly thanked her, and mamma cried about it.'
+
+Mollie was chattering on without thinking until a bell made her start
+and hurry away. She did not come back for some time, and Audrey finished
+her task alone.
+
+'I have been making mamma some coffee,' she said gravely; 'she had one
+of her headaches. She has sent you a message, Miss Ross; she is so
+delighted with the flowers. She wanted to get up at once and thank you,
+and then she thought she had better lie still until her headache was
+better; but she will be down presently.'
+
+'Then we must make haste and finish the room before she comes. Mollie,
+I can do nothing with those pictures; we will put them up against the
+wall until your brother can hang them. Let me see; that corner behind
+the writing-table--no one can see them there. Quick! hand me another. Is
+this a portrait of your father?' stopping to regard a half-length figure
+of a fine-looking man in naval uniform.
+
+'No, that is only an uncle of mamma's; I forget his name. Do you
+remember it, Kester? Papa was a merchant--at least, I think so.'
+
+'Has he been long dead?'
+
+'Oh yes; he died abroad when Kester and I were quite little; that is why
+we are so poor. Mamma has often told us that it is her money we are
+living on. I don't know how she managed to send Cyril to Oxford; but we
+had no house all that time, only poky little lodgings. Are we going to
+arrange the furniture now, Miss Ross? Oh, how comfortable the room
+begins to look, and how delighted Cyril will be when he comes home this
+afternoon! He says that Dr. Ross wants him after school, so he will not
+run home before dinner. How glad I am that Cyril will always have a nice
+dinner now! He does so hate Biddy's cooking; he declares everything
+tastes alike. You say so, too, don't you, Kester?'
+
+Kester's answer was a shrug of the shoulders; he seemed more reserved
+than Mollie, who was chattering to her new friend with all the frankness
+and thoughtlessness of a very young girl.
+
+'Mamma never minds what sort of dinner Biddy sends up, if only Cyril
+does not find fault. I think she would live on tea and dry bread all the
+year round if only Cyril could have nice things.'
+
+Cyril--always Cyril! Audrey turned the subject by asking Mollie if she
+would like the couch in the window. Mollie clapped her hands delightedly
+at the effect.
+
+'It looks beautiful; don't you think so, Kester? And how funny! Miss
+Ross has put your own particular little table beside it, just as though
+she guessed that it was to hold your desk and your books. There is
+Kester's little box of books, but he will unpack them himself by and
+by.'
+
+'Mollie, have you ordered the dinner?' interrupted Kester a little
+anxiously--and poor Mollie's face fell.
+
+'Oh dear, I am so sorry, but I have forgotten all about it; the butcher
+has not called, and there are only those potatoes and bread and cheese.
+Mamma is right when she says my head is like a sieve.'
+
+'Why don't you send Biddy for some chops, my dear?' remarked Audrey very
+sensibly.
+
+Kester had spoken in a loud whisper, but she had overheard every word.
+Mollie started off with a look of relief to hunt up the old woman, and
+when Audrey found herself alone with Kester she could not help saying to
+him:
+
+'Mollie is a very young housekeeper--girls of fourteen are liable to
+forget sometimes;' but to her surprise he fired up at once:
+
+'They all expect too much of her; I hate to see her slave as she does:
+it is not right, it is not fair--I tell Cyril so. She has no time to
+herself; all her lessons are neglected. If only mother would send Biddy
+away and get another servant!'
+
+'Who teaches Mollie, then?' she asked, a little curiously.
+
+'Oh, mother gives her lessons sometimes, but they are not very regular,
+and I help her with arithmetic and Latin. Cyril always gives me an hour
+or two in the evening, when his work is done, but of course Mollie does
+not care to learn Greek.'
+
+'Do you mean that your brother gives you lessons when he has been
+teaching all day?'
+
+'Yes, and he is awfully tired sometimes; but he never likes me to be
+disappointed. Mother often tries to make him take a walk instead; but
+Cyril is such a brick: he never will listen to her.'
+
+Audrey felt a little glow of satisfaction as she heard this. What a kind
+brother Mr. Blake seemed to be--how truly estimable! she would never
+judge hastily of anyone again. Just then the clock struck one, and she
+told Kester that she must hurry away. She was disappointed that Mrs.
+Blake had not yet appeared--she wanted to see the face that had haunted
+her so persistently; but the bewitching widow had not shown herself.
+
+'I am afraid I must go, or I shall be late for luncheon,' she said
+hurriedly.
+
+'I will tell Mollie,' returned the boy; and then he said a little
+awkwardly: 'You have been awfully good to us, Miss Ross; I don't know
+how Mollie and I are to thank you. You must be quite tired out.'
+
+Audrey laughed.
+
+'I am not so easily tired, Kester, and I am rather fond of this sort of
+work. Do you think your mother would mind if I were to look in to-morrow
+afternoon and help a little with the drawing-room? Mollie said something
+about it just now, and I half promised--she is to help Biddy put up the
+plates and dishes this afternoon; that will be as much as she can do.'
+
+'I am sure mother will be only too delighted,' replied Kester
+gratefully; and then Audrey went in search of Mollie, and found her
+occupied with the chops, while Biddy cleaned the knives. Mollie turned a
+scorched cheek to her.
+
+'Dear Miss Ross, thank you ever so much,' she said fervently as Audrey
+repeated her promise of looking in the next afternoon.
+
+'Poor little soul! how interested Michael will be when I tell him all
+about her!' she thought as she walked briskly towards Woodcote.
+
+Audrey had scarcely closed the green gate behind her before Mrs. Blake's
+foot sounded on the stairs. She looked pale and heavy-eyed, and walked
+into the room a little languidly; but if Audrey had seen her she would
+only have thought that her paleness invested her with fresh interest.
+
+'Miss Ross has gone, mamma,' observed Mollie regretfully, as she
+followed her into the room.
+
+'Yes, I know; I felt too jaded to face visitors this morning--Miss Ross
+looks at one so, and my nerves would not stand it. How are you, Kester?'
+kissing his forehead lightly; 'you look better than usual. I don't
+believe I closed my eyes until four o'clock. Dear me!' interrupting
+herself; 'there are Cyril's books nicely arranged--did you do them,
+Mollie? Why, the room looks quite comfortable and homelike. Miss Ross
+must have helped you a great deal.'
+
+'Oh yes, mamma,' exclaimed Mollie and Kester eagerly; and they were
+about to expatiate on Audrey's wonderful goodness, when their mother
+checked them:
+
+'Please don't speak so loud, children, or you will make my head bad
+again. I will tell you what we will do, Mollie. We will make those
+curtains, and then this room will be quite finished. There are only the
+hems and just the tops to do. We can have no difficulty in finishing
+them before Cyril comes home. The red tablecloth is at the top of the
+black box--if you will fetch it, Mollie--and I have arranged the flowers
+in that pretty green vase.'
+
+'But, mamma,' pleaded Mollie, in a vexed voice, 'the room will do quite
+well without curtains for one day, and I promised Miss Ross to help
+Biddy with the plates and dishes. All the hampers are unpacked, and
+there is not a corner in the kitchen to put anything--and it does make
+Biddy so cross.'
+
+'Nonsense, Mollie! Who minds about Biddy's crossness! I suppose I may do
+as I like in my own house. Let us have dinner, and then we will set to
+work at once--you and I--and Kester can read to us;' and, seeing that
+her mother's mind was fully made up, Mollie very wisely held her tongue,
+probably admonished thereto by a mild kick from Kester.
+
+So, as soon as the chops had been eaten, Mollie produced her mother's
+work-basket and a shabby little cotton-box that was appropriated to her
+own use, and sewed industriously, only pausing at intervals to watch the
+white, slender fingers that seemed to make the needle fly through the
+stuff.
+
+Mrs. Blake was evidently an accomplished seamstress, and long before
+four o'clock the curtains were put up, and duly admired by the whole
+family and Biddy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+KESTER'S HERO
+
+     'Measure thy life by loss instead of gain--
+     Not by wine drunk, but by the wine poured forth;
+     For love's strength standeth in love's sacrifice;
+     And whose suffers most hath most to give.'
+
+                                        UGO BASSI.
+
+
+Audrey was bent on keeping her promise to Mollie, but she found a great
+deal of finesse and skilful management were necessary to secure her
+afternoon from interruption.
+
+First, there was a note from Hillside. Mrs. Harcourt had to pay a round
+of visits, and would be glad of her sister's company: and as Mrs. Ross
+evidently thought that a refusal was impossible under such
+circumstances, Audrey felt that she was in a dilemma.
+
+'Gage will have the carriage,' she said, with a trace of annoyance in
+her tone. 'She cannot possibly require me, especially as she knows an
+afternoon spent in paying formal calls is my pet abomination.'
+
+'But, my dear Audrey, you would surely not allow your sister to go
+alone,' began her mother in a voice of mild remonstrance. She very
+seldom interfered with Audrey--indeed, that young person was in most
+respects her own mistress--but when Geraldine's interests were involved
+Mrs. Ross could be firm. 'You are very good-natured,' she went on, 'and
+I am sure it is very good of you to take all that trouble for those poor
+neglected children'--for Mrs. Ross's motherly sympathies were already
+enlisted on behalf of Mollie and Kester--'but, of course, your first
+duty is to your sister.'
+
+'But, my dear mother, a promise is a promise, and poor little Mollie is
+expecting me.' And then a bright idea came to Audrey. 'Why should you
+not go with Gage yourself? It is a lovely afternoon, and the drive will
+do you good. Gage would much prefer your company to mine, and you know
+how much she admires your new bonnet;' and though Mrs. Ross faintly
+demurred to this, she was in the end overruled by Audrey.
+
+'Dear mother! she and Gage will enjoy themselves thoroughly,' thought
+Audrey, as she watched Mrs. Ross drive from the door, looking the
+picture of a well-dressed English gentlewoman.
+
+Audrey had to inflict another disappointment before she could get her
+own way. Michael wanted her to go with him to the cricket-field. There
+was a match being played, and on these occasions Audrey was always his
+companion. She understood the game as well as he did, and always took an
+intelligent interest in it. Audrey was sorry to refuse him and to see
+him go off alone.
+
+'Never mind; I daresay I shall only stay for an hour,' he said, as he
+took down his hat and walked with her to the gate of the Gray Cottage.
+
+Mollie was on the watch for her, and darted out to meet her.
+
+'Oh, Miss Ross,' she said excitedly, 'I have so much to tell you! Mamma
+has had to go up to London this morning on business, and she is so sorry
+because she did not see you yesterday; and I was to give you all sorts
+of messages and thanks. And now please do come into the kitchen a
+moment, and you will see how hard we have worked.'
+
+Audrey followed her at once.
+
+'Oh, Mollie, how could you have done so much!' she exclaimed in genuine
+surprise, as she looked round her.
+
+The plates and dishes were neatly arranged on the dresser, the
+dish-covers and tins hanging in their places, the crate of glass and
+china emptied of its contents and in the yard. The floor had been
+scrubbed as well as the table, and Biddy stood by the side of her
+freshly-blackleaded stove, with the first smile Audrey had yet seen on
+her wrinkled face.
+
+'It is not all Miss Mollie's doing,' she said, with a chuckle, as she
+carried off the kettle.
+
+'Did your mother help you?' asked Audrey, for Mollie only looked
+mysterious.
+
+'Mamma! Oh dear no! She was busy all the evening with the curtains. Oh,
+what fun! I do wish Kester were here, but he is studying his Greek. Dear
+Miss Ross, you do look so puzzled. It was not mamma, and it was not
+Biddy, though she cleaned the kitchen this morning; and of course it
+could not be Kester.'
+
+'I will give it up,' returned Audrey, laughing. 'Some magician must have
+been at work--and a very clever magician, too.'
+
+'Oh, I will tell Cyril that!' replied Mollie, clapping her hands. 'Why
+did you not guess Cyril, Miss Ross? He is clever enough for anything.'
+
+'Do you mean Mr. Blake put up all these plates and dishes?' observed
+Audrey, feeling as much surprised as an Athenian damsel would have been
+if she had heard of Apollo turning scullion.
+
+'Yes, indeed! I must tell you all about it,' returned Mollie
+garrulously, for she was an inveterate chatterbox. 'You know, I had
+promised to help Biddy because she was in such a muddle, and then mamma
+came down and said we must get the dining-room curtains ready, to
+surprise Cyril when he came home.
+
+'Well, he was very pleased; but I am afraid mamma thought that he took
+more notice of the way his books were arranged than of the curtains; but
+he said it all looked very nice, and that we were getting to rights now;
+and then mamma said that, as she was in the mood for work, we might as
+well do the drawing-room curtains too.'
+
+'But, my dear Mollie, the furniture is not yet arranged.'
+
+'No, of course not; but you don't understand mamma. She never does
+things quite like other people. She likes either to work all day long,
+and not give herself time for meals even, or else to do nothing; she
+likes beginning things, but she hates being compelled to finish them.
+That is why I am obliged to wear this shabby old frock,' looking down at
+it ruefully. 'Mamma has two such pretty ones half done, and I don't know
+when she will finish them.'
+
+'Does your mother make all your frocks, dear?'
+
+'Yes; and she does work so beautifully--everyone says so. But she is not
+always in the mood, and then it troubles her; she was in the curtain
+mood last night. Cyril saw I was vexed about something, and when mamma
+went out of the room he asked me if I were tired; and I could hardly
+help crying as I told him about my promise to you; and then he called me
+a little goose, and pulled my hair, as he does sometimes, and told me to
+leave it to him.'
+
+'Yes----' as Mollie paused from sheer want of breath.
+
+'Of course Cyril can always manage mamma. He sent me into the kitchen,
+and in ten minutes he came after me, and asked what was to be done.
+Kester dusted all the glass, and Cyril and I did the rest. We were hard
+at work till ten o'clock; and Biddy was so pleased.'
+
+'And now we must go upstairs,' returned Audrey, when Mollie's story was
+told. 'Perhaps Biddy will be good enough to help us.' And in a little
+while the three were hard at work.
+
+Audrey and Mollie arranged the shabby furniture to the best advantage.
+One or two Oriental rugs were spread on the dark-polished floor; then
+the curtains were hung and draped in the most effective manner, and some
+old china, that Mollie said was her mother's special treasure, was
+carefully washed and placed on the shelves of an old cabinet.
+
+'It really looks very nice,' observed Audrey contentedly, when Biddy had
+gone down to see after the tea. She had enjoyed her afternoon far more
+than if she had been paying those calls with Geraldine. 'I always liked
+this room so much;' and she gave a touch to the big Japanese screen and
+flecked some dust from the writing-table. 'I daresay your mother will
+alter the position of the furniture--people always have their own ideas.
+But I hope she will not move the couch; it stands so well in that
+recess. Do you think she will like this little table in the window,
+Mollie? I am sure this would be my favourite seat;' and Audrey took it
+for a moment as she spoke, and looked down at the old arches and the
+quiet courtyard, with its well-worn flagstones. The martins were
+twittering about the eaves; some brown, dusty sparrows were chirping
+loudly. The ivy-covered buildings round the corner were just visible;
+and a large gray cat moved stealthily between the arches, intent on some
+subtle mischief. Mr. Charrington's boys were all on the cricket-field,
+watching an exciting match between Rutherford and Haileybury, and the
+school-house was deserted.
+
+'That must be your seat when you come to see us,' observed Mollie
+affectionately. 'Mamma was only saying this morning that she had taken a
+fancy to you, and hoped you would come very often; and Kester said he
+hoped so, too, because you were so very kind.'
+
+'Did you have many friends at Headingly?' asked Audrey absently.
+
+She was wondering to whom Kester was talking. She could hear his voice
+through the open window; it sounded bright and animated. It could not
+possibly be his brother; Mr. Blake would be with the boys on the
+cricket-field. Perhaps Mrs. Blake had returned from town.
+
+'We had no friends at all,' returned Mollie disconsolately; 'at least,
+no real friends. People just called on us and left their cards. Mrs.
+Bryce was very kind to Kester, but mamma never got on with her. We none
+of us liked Headingly much, except Cyril. Everyone was nice to him, but
+when mamma fretted and said she was miserable, and that no one in the
+place cared for her, he seemed to lose interest, too; and when this
+vacancy occurred, he just said he had had enough of it, and that mamma
+would be happier in a fresh place, and so we came here, and now we have
+found you;' and Mollie's brown eyes were very soft as she spoke.
+
+'Oh, you will find plenty of people to like at Rutherford,' replied
+Audrey. 'You have not seen my mother yet, Mollie; she is so good to
+everyone, and so is father. And then there is my cousin, Captain
+Burnett, who half lives with us; he is one of the nicest men possible.'
+
+But as Audrey spoke, she had no idea that Michael was that minute
+talking to Kester. It fell out in this way: Michael found it slow on the
+cricket-field without Audrey; so many people came up and talked to him
+that he got quite bored. Captain Burnett was a general favourite with
+men as well as women; he had the reputation of being a hero: women
+pitied him for his ill-health and misfortunes, and men admired him for
+the cheerful pluck with which he endured them.
+
+'Burnett is a pleasant fellow and a gentleman,' was one observation.
+'Perhaps he is a bit solemn at times, but I fancy that confounded wound
+of his gives him trouble. Anyhow, he never plagues other people with his
+ailments. "Grin and bear it"--I fancy that is Burnett's motto.'
+
+Michael found the cricket-field dull without Audrey's liveliness to give
+zest to the afternoon; she always took people away when he was tired. He
+had had enough of it long before the match was over. Just as he was
+sauntering homewards he encountered Mr. Blake, and in the course of
+brief conversation he learnt that Mrs. Blake was in town.
+
+Michael thought he would call and see if Audrey were ready to come
+home--it would do no harm to inquire at the door; but Biddy, who was
+scouring the doorsteps, told him abruptly to step in and he would find
+the lady; and, half amused at his own coolness, he, nothing loath,
+accepted the invitation.
+
+He found Kester alone in the dining-room busy over his lessons. He
+looked up in some astonishment at the sight of a strange gentleman, and
+Zack, the retriever, growled rather inhospitably at Booty. Perhaps the
+Dachs-hund's short legs affronted him.
+
+'Am I disturbing you?' asked Michael in his most genial manner. And he
+looked at the boy's pale intelligent face with much interest. 'I have
+come to see after my cousin, Miss Ross. Is she anywhere about? My name
+is Captain Burnett.'
+
+'Oh, I know,' returned Kester, flushing a little nervously under the
+scrutiny of those keen blue eyes; 'Cyril told us about you. Miss Ross is
+upstairs with Mollie; they are putting the drawing-room to rights, but
+they will be down to tea presently. Will you sit down,' still more
+nervously, 'or shall I call Mollie?'
+
+'No, no; there is no hurry, unless I am interrupting you,' with a glance
+at Kester's books. 'You are doing Greek, eh?'
+
+'Yes, I am getting ready for Cyril this evening; but I am too tired to
+do more.'
+
+And Kester pushed away his papers with a movement that betrayed latent
+irritability. Michael knew that sign of weakness well.
+
+'That is right; shut up your books,' he said with ready kindness. 'Never
+work when you are tired: it is bad economy; it is using up one's stock
+of fuel too recklessly--lighting a furnace to cook a potato. The results
+are not worth it. Tired work is bad work--I have proved it.'
+
+'I am generally tired,' returned Kester with a sigh. And it was sad to
+see the gravity that crept over the young face. 'It does not do to think
+too much of one's feelings; one has just to bear it, you know. I am
+ignorant enough as it is, and I must learn; I will learn!' setting his
+teeth hard.
+
+Michael shot a quick glance at the lad; then he turned over the leaves
+of the book next him for a moment in silence.
+
+'I must know more of this fellow,' he thought; 'Audrey is right; she is
+generally right about people.' Then in his ordinary quiet tone:
+
+'I wonder your brother finds time for private tuition. I live at the
+lower school, you know, and so I understand all about the junior
+master's work. Mr. Blake has his evenings free generally, but there is
+dormitory work and----'
+
+'Cyril says he will always give me an hour and a half,' interrupted
+Kester eagerly. 'Of course, it is not good for him to have any more
+teaching; but he says he would hate to see me grow up a
+dunce--and--and'--swallowing down some secret emotion--' I think it
+would break my heart not to know things.'
+
+'And you want to be a classical scholar?' in the same grave tones.
+
+'I want to learn everything;' and here there was a sudden kindling in
+the boy's eyes. 'I must do something, and my lameness hinders everything
+but that--perhaps, if I learn plenty of Latin and Greek, I may be able
+to help Cyril one day. We often talk about it, and even mother thinks it
+is a good plan. One day Cyril hopes to have a school of his own--when he
+is older, you know--and then I could take the younger boys off his hands
+and save him the cost of an usher; don't you think that would be
+possible?' looking anxiously at Michael, for somehow those steady clear
+eyes seemed so thoroughly to comprehend him.
+
+'I think it an excellent plan,' retained Michael slowly; "knowledge is
+power"--we all know that. Do you know,' drawling out his words a little,
+'that I have been working at Greek, too, for the last two years? I took
+it up as a sort of amusement when I was seedy; it would not be bad fun
+to work together sometimes. I daresay you are ahead of me in Greek, but
+I don't believe you could beat me in mathematics. We could help each
+other, and it would be good practice. I suppose your brother gives you
+lessons in mathematics.'
+
+Kester shook his head.
+
+'There is not time for everything, and Cyril always says mathematics are
+not in his line--he is a classical master, you see.'
+
+'Oh yes, that is easily understood; but you can have more than one
+master. Come, shall we make a bargain? Will you read Greek with me? and
+I will give you an hour three times a week for mathematics, or anything
+else you like. I am an idle man, and any fixed occupation would be a
+boon to me.'
+
+'Do you mean it?' was the breathless answer; and then he added, a little
+shyly: 'I am awfully obliged; I should like it of all things; but you
+are not strong, are you?--Miss Ross told us so.'
+
+'Not particularly; I was rather knocked about by the Zulus, you know,
+and my leg gives me a good deal of trouble. I am pretty heavily
+handicapped--we are both in the same boat, are we not?--but we may as
+well make a fight for it.'
+
+'Someone told me,' returned Kester, in a tone of great awe, 'that you
+have the Victoria Cross, Captain Burnett.'
+
+Michael nodded; he never cared to be questioned on the subject.
+
+'Will you let Mollie and me see it one day?' half whispered the boy. 'I
+hope you don't mind my asking you, but I have always so wanted to see
+it. I am afraid you won't tell us all about it, but I should dearly love
+to hear.'
+
+No one had ever induced Michael to tell that story; the merest allusion
+to his gallantry always froze him up in a moment--even Dr. Ross, who was
+his nearest confidant, had never heard the recital from his own lips.
+But for once Michael let himself be persuaded; Kester's boyish eagerness
+prevailed, and, to his own surprise, Michael found himself giving the
+terrible details in a cool, business-like manner.
+
+No wonder Kester forgot the time as he listened; the lad's sensitive
+frame thrilled with passionate envy at the narrative. At last he had met
+a hero face to face. What were those old Greek fellows--Ajax, or Hector
+or any of those gaudy warriors--compared with this quiet English
+soldier?
+
+'Oh, if I could only be you!' he sighed, as Michael ended his recital;
+'if I could look back on a deed like that! How many lives did you save,
+Captain Burnett?--you told me, but I have forgotten. I think you are the
+happiest man I know.'
+
+Kester in his boyish reticence could not speak out his inmost thought,
+or he would have added: 'And the greatest and the grandest man I have
+ever seen.'
+
+A dim, inscrutable smile flitted over Captain Burnett's features.
+
+'My dear fellow, happiness is a purely relative term. I am not a great
+believer in happiness. A soldier without his work is hardly to be
+envied.'
+
+Kester was young, but his life had already taught him many things. He
+was acute enough to detect a note of bitterness in his new friend's
+voice. It said, more than his words, that Captain Burnett was a
+disappointed man. He looked at him wistfully for a moment.
+
+'Yes, I know what you mean. You would like to be back with your
+regiment. It is very hard--very hard, of course; but you are not
+suffering for nothing, like me. Don't you see the difference?'--dropping
+his voice. 'I have got this pain to bear, and no good comes of it; it is
+just bearing, and nothing else. But you have suffered in saving other
+men's lives. It is a kind of ransom. Oh, I don't know how to express
+myself, but it must be happiness to have a memory like that!'
+
+Kester had spoken with a sort of involuntary outburst. For a moment
+Captain Burnett turned his head aside. He felt rebuked by this crude,
+boyish enthusiasm, which had gone so straight to the heart of things.
+Why was he, the grown man, so selfish, so impatient, when this poor lad
+acquiesced so meekly in his fate? Had Kester deserved his lot?
+
+'You are right,' observed Michael, in a low tone. 'One ought only to be
+thankful, and not complain.'
+
+And just at this moment Audrey came in, and stood on the threshold
+transfixed with amazement, until Michael rose and offered her a chair.
+
+'You here!' she gasped. 'I thought I heard voices. Mollie, this is my
+cousin, Captain Burnett. I suppose we must let him stay to tea.'
+
+Mollie gave her invitation very shyly. The poor child was thinking of
+her shabby frock, with the great rent in the skirt, so hastily cobbled
+up. The pale man with the reddish moustache was very formidable in
+Mollie's eyes. Mollie was sure her hand would tremble when she lifted
+the heavy teapot. She had been so looking forward to having a cosy tea
+with their dear Miss Ross, and now everything was spoilt.
+
+When Mollie was shy she always looked a little sulky; but Michael, who
+noticed her embarrassment, set himself to charm it away.
+
+Biddy had set the little tea-table under the acacia-tree; but as Mollie,
+blushing and awkward, commenced her arduous duties, she found herself
+assisted by the formidable Captain Burnett.
+
+Before half an hour was over Mollie thought him quite the nicest man
+that she had ever seen. He was so kind, so helpful; he told such
+interesting stories. Mollie forgot her Cinderella rags as she listened.
+Her eyes sparkled; a pretty colour came to her face; her rough brown
+hair had gleams of gold in it. Mollie did not look plain or awkward
+then.
+
+'Her eyes are nice, and she has a sweet voice and a ringing laugh,'
+thought Michael as he glanced at her.
+
+How merry they all were! What nonsense they talked, as they sat there
+watching some pigeons circling among the arches! The little garden was
+still and pleasant. Zack was stretched out beside them, with Booty
+curled up near him. Audrey was the first to call attention to the
+lateness of the hour.
+
+'We must go home now, Michael,' she said, in a tone of regret, which was
+loudly echoed by Mollie and Kester.
+
+Mollie closed the green gate after them; then she rushed back to Kester.
+
+'Do you like him--Captain Burnett, I mean?' she asked eagerly. 'I was so
+afraid of him at first; his eyes seem to look one through and through,
+even when he says nothing. But he is kind--very kind.'
+
+'Is that all you have found out about him?' returned her brother
+contemptuously. 'That is so like a girl! Who cares about his eyes? Do
+you know what he is? He is a hero--he has the Victoria Cross. He has
+saved a lot of lives. Come here, and I will tell you all about it; it
+will make your hair stand on end more than it does now.'
+
+But the story made Mollie cry, and from that hour she and Kester elected
+Captain Burnett to the position of their favourite hero.
+
+'We must tell Cyril all about him when he comes home,' observed Mollie,
+drying her eyes. 'You are right, Kester. Captain Burnett is quite the
+best, and the nicest, and the bravest man I have ever seen.'
+
+'Hear, hear!' interposed Cyril mischievously, thrusting his dark face
+out of the dining-room window. He had heard the whole story with a great
+deal of interest. And then, as Mollie darted towards him with a little
+shriek of assumed anger, he laughed, and sauntered out into the garden.
+
+'Let us do our Greek out here, old fellow,' he said, throwing himself
+down on the grass, while Zack jumped on him. 'Have you got some tea for
+me, Mollie, or have you forgotten the teapot in your hero-worship? How
+late mother is!' He hesitated and looked at Kester. 'She would like me
+to meet her; it is such a long, lonely walk. But no'--as a cloud stole
+over Kester's face--'perhaps she will take the omnibus. Open your books
+and let me see your day's work;' and Cyril quietly repressed a yawn as
+he took a cup of cold tea from Mollie's hand.
+
+He was tired. A walk through the dewy lanes would refresh him. He was in
+a restless mood; he wanted to be alone, to stretch himself and to
+think--perhaps to indulge in some youthful dream. But he was used to
+combating these moods; he would rather bear anything than disappoint
+Kester. And then he drank off his tea without a murmur, and the next
+moment the two brothers were hard at work.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+'I HOPE BETTER THINGS OF AUDREY'
+
+     'Your manners are always under examination, and by committees
+     little suspected--a police in citizen's clothes--who are awarding
+     or denying you very high prizes when you least think of
+     it.'--EMERSON.
+
+
+Mrs. Harcourt had had a successful afternoon. All the nicest people had
+been at home, and a great many pleasant things had been said to her; her
+mother had been a charming companion. Nevertheless, there was a slight
+cloud on Mrs. Harcourt's face as she walked through the shrubbery that
+led to her house, and the fold of care was still on her brow as she
+entered her husband's study--a pleasant room on the ground-floor,
+overlooking the garden. Mr. Harcourt was reading, but he put down his
+magazine and greeted his wife with a smile. He was just rising from his
+seat, but she prevented him by laying her hand on his shoulder.
+
+'Don't move, Percival; you look so comfortable. I will sit by you a
+minute. I hope I am not interrupting you.'
+
+'Such an interruption is only pleasant, my dear,' was the polite answer.
+'Well, have you and Audrey had a nice afternoon?'
+
+'Mother came with me. Audrey had some ridiculous engagement with the
+Blakes. Percival, I am growing seriously uneasy at this new vagary on
+Audrey's part. Would you believe it?--she has been the whole afternoon
+at the Gray Cottage helping those children! and Michael has been there,
+too; we met them just now.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt raised his eyebrows; he was evidently surprised at this bit
+of news, though he took it with his usual philosophy.
+
+'Never mind, Jerry,' he said kindly, after a glance at his wife's vexed
+face, 'we cannot always inoculate people with our own common-sense.
+Audrey was always inclined to go her own gait.'
+
+Geraldine blushed; she always did when her husband called her Jerry. Not
+that she minded it from him, but if anyone else--one of the boys, for
+example--were to hear it, the dignified mistress of the house felt she
+would never have got over it. In her unmarried days no one had presumed
+to call her anything but Geraldine or Gage, and yet before three months
+were over her husband had invented this nickname for her.
+
+'It is no use fretting over it,' he went on in the same equable voice;
+'you and Audrey are very different people, my love.'
+
+'Yes; but, Percy dear, it is so trying of Audrey to take up the very
+people that mother and I were so anxious to avoid. I declare I am quite
+sorry for mother; she said, very truly, how is she to keep an intrusive
+person like Mrs. Blake at a distance now Audrey has struck up this
+violent friendship with her? She has even taken Michael there, for of
+course he would never go of his own accord. I am so vexed about it all;
+it has quite spoilt my afternoon.'
+
+'Burnett was on the cricket-field a great part of the afternoon,'
+returned Mr. Harcourt. 'I saw him talking to Charrington and Sayers.'
+
+'Then she must have asked him to fetch her,' replied Geraldine, with an
+air of decision that evidently amused her husband; 'for Michael told us
+of his own accord that he had been having tea at the Cottage. It is
+really very foolish and incautious of Audrey, after Edith's hint, too! I
+wish you would tell her so, Percival, for she only laughs at my advice.'
+
+'And you think she would listen to me?'--still with the same amused curl
+of the lip.
+
+'I think she ought to listen to you, dear--a man of your experience and
+knowledge of the world--if you would give her a little of your mind. It
+is so absurd for a grown-up person to behave like an impulsive child.
+Michael is particular in some things, but he spoils Audrey dreadfully.
+He and father encourage her. It is your duty, Percival, to act a
+brother's part by her, and guide her for her own good.'
+
+Geraldine was evidently in earnest, and Mr. Harcourt forbore to smile as
+he answered her:
+
+'But if she refused to be guided by me, my dear?'
+
+'Oh, I hope better things of Audrey,' replied Geraldine, in such a
+solemn voice that her husband laughed outright, though he drew down her
+face to his the next minute and kissed it.
+
+'You are a good girl to believe in your husband. I don't envy Audrey's
+future spouse; he will have much to bear. Audrey is too philanthropic,
+too unpractical altogether, for a smooth domestic life. We are different
+people, as I said before. Come, cheer up, darling. If I find it possible
+to say a word in season, you may trust me to do so. Ah! there is the
+dressing-bell.'
+
+And Mr. Harcourt rose and stretched himself, and began gathering up his
+papers as a hint to his wife that the subject was concluded.
+
+Audrey was not so unreasonable as her sister supposed; she had no
+intention of placing herself in direct opposition to her family--on the
+contrary, she was somewhat troubled by Geraldine's chilling reception
+that afternoon. Michael had stopped the carriage and informed the two
+ladies of the manner in which he and Audrey had spent their afternoon.
+
+'We have both been having tea at the Gray Cottage,' he said cheerfully.
+'I hope you have spent as pleasant an afternoon, Gage. That
+youngster--Kester they call him--is a bright, intelligent lad, and
+Mollie is a nice child.'
+
+'Oh, indeed!' was Geraldine's reply; 'I am afraid we are late, Michael,
+and must drive on;' and then she nodded to Audrey: but there was no
+pleasant smile on her face.
+
+'Gage is put out with us both,' observed Audrey, as they turned in at
+Woodcote. 'I shall be in for another lecture, Michael.'
+
+Audrey had no wish to be a bugbear to her family. For several reasons
+she thought it politic to avoid the Gray Cottage for a day or two:
+Mollie must not depend on her too much. When her mother and Geraldine
+had called, and Mrs. Blake was on visiting terms with them, things would
+be on a pleasanter footing. She was somewhat surprised, when Sunday
+came, to find Mr. Blake was the sole representative of his family in the
+school chapel. She had looked for the widow and her children in the
+morning, and again in the afternoon, and as she exchanged greetings with
+Cyril in the courtyard after service she could not refrain from
+questioning him on the subject.
+
+'I hope Mrs. Blake has not another headache?' she asked rather abruptly
+as he came up to her, looking very handsome and distinguished in his
+cap and gown--and again Audrey remembered her unlucky speech about the
+Greek god.
+
+Cyril seemed a little embarrassed.
+
+'Oh no, she is quite well, only a little tired; she has rather knocked
+herself up. Kester had a touch of his old pain, so I told him not to
+come.'
+
+'And Mollie?' But Cyril did not appear to hear the question.
+
+'Will you excuse me?' he observed the next moment, rather hurriedly; 'I
+think Mrs. Charrington is waiting for me--she asked me to go to the
+school-house to tea.'
+
+And as he left her, Audrey found herself obliged to join her sister and
+Mrs. Harcourt.
+
+'Have you many people coming to you to-morrow afternoon?' asked
+Geraldine, as they walked on together.
+
+'Only the Luptons and Fortescues and Mr. Owen and Herr Schaffmann--oh,
+and--I forgot, father asked Mr. Blake.'
+
+Audrey spoke a little absently. They were passing the Gray Cottage--a
+blind was just then raised in one of the lower rooms, and a small pale
+face peeped eagerly out at the passers-by. Audrey smiled and waved her
+hand in a friendly manner, and a bright answering smile lighted up the
+girlish face.
+
+'What an untidy-looking child!' remarked Geraldine carelessly; 'is that
+your _protegee_?' and then she continued, in a reproving tone: 'It is
+really disgraceful that none of the family were in chapel. Edith was
+right when she spoke of Mrs. Blake's mismanagement of her children; that
+poor girl had a most neglected look.'
+
+Audrey did not answer; she thought it wiser to allow her sister's remark
+to pass unchallenged; she had a shrewd suspicion why Mollie was not in
+chapel--the shabby, outgrown frock had probably kept her at home.
+
+'Poor little thing!' she thought, with a fresh access of pity, for
+Mollie had certainly looked very forlorn. And then she turned her
+attention with some difficulty to what Geraldine was saying.
+
+Dr. Ross was famed for his hospitality, and both he and his wife loved
+to gather the young people of Rutherford about them.
+
+On Monday afternoons during the summer there was always tennis on the
+Woodcote lawn; one or two of the families from the Hill houses, and
+perhaps a bachelor master or two, made up a couple of sets. The elder
+ladies liked to watch the game or to stroll about the beautiful
+grounds. Mrs. Ross was an excellent hostess; she loved to prepare little
+surprises for her guests--iced drinks or strawberries and cream.
+Geraldine generally presided at her mother's tea-table; Audrey would be
+among the players. Tennis-parties and garden-parties of all kinds were
+common enough in Rutherford, but those at Woodcote certainly carried off
+the palm.
+
+Mr. Harcourt had always been considered one of the best players, but on
+the Monday in question he found himself ranged against no mean
+antagonist, and he was obliged to own that young Blake played superbly.
+
+'You would have won every game this afternoon if you had had a better
+partner,' observed Audrey, as she and Cyril walked across the lawn. She
+had been playing with him the greater part of the afternoon, and had
+been much struck with his quiet and finished style. 'My brother-in-law
+has always been considered our champion player, but you certainly excel
+him.'
+
+'I have had a great deal of practice,' returned Cyril modestly. 'I think
+you are wrong about our respective powers. Mr. Harcourt plays
+exceedingly well; being so much younger, I am a little more agile--that
+is all.'
+
+'Yes; and you would have beaten him this last game, but for me. I have
+played worse than usual this afternoon.'
+
+'You must not expect me to endorse that opinion, Miss Ross. I have never
+seen any lady play half so well. You took that last ball splendidly. Now
+we have exchanged these mutual compliments, may I ask you to show me the
+lake? Kester gave a tremendous description of it when he came home
+to-day. Captain Burnett put him in the punt, and he seems to have had a
+grand time altogether.'
+
+'Oh, I heard all about it at luncheon.'
+
+'It is good of your cousin to take all this trouble,' went on Cyril in a
+lower voice, as they walked down one of the terraces. 'I was quite taken
+aback when he spoke to me yesterday. I thought he could not be in
+earnest. You know he asked me to go up to his private room after
+luncheon, and we had a long talk until it was time to go to chapel.'
+
+'Will it be possible for your brother to come here two or three times a
+week, Mr. Blake?'
+
+'Oh yes; he can manage that short distance--at least, when he is pretty
+well; and the change will be so good for him. It is quite a load off my
+mind to know he will learn mathematics as well as Greek and Latin. You
+have no idea, Miss Ross, how clever that boy is. If he had only my
+opportunities, he would beat me hollow in no time. I tell my mother so,
+but she will not believe it; but she thinks with me that it is awfully
+good of your cousin to interest himself in Kester.'
+
+'It will be a godsend to Michael,' returned Audrey. 'You see, my
+cousin's health is so bad that he cannot employ himself, and he is
+debarred from so much enjoyment. He helps my father a good deal with the
+boys when he is here, but sometimes the noise is too much for him. It
+will suit him far better to study quietly with your brother. Of course,
+he meant to be kind--he is always doing good to someone or other--but
+this time the kindness will benefit himself. He quite enjoyed his
+morning. He told me so in a tone as though he meant it.'
+
+'And Kester looked ever so much brighter. What comfortable quarters
+Captain Burnett has! I had no idea he had a private sitting-room, and he
+tells me he has rooms in town as well.'
+
+'Yes; but we do not let him use them oftener than we can help. It is so
+dull for him to be alone. My father is anxious for him to live
+altogether at Woodcote--he thinks the Rutherford air suits him so much
+better than that of town; but Michael cannot be persuaded to give up his
+rooms. I tell him it is all his pride, and that he wishes to be
+independent of us.'
+
+'He is your father's cousin, you say?'
+
+'Yes; and he is just like his son,' returned Audrey, wondering why Mr.
+Blake looked at her so intently. 'You know, I told you that we looked
+upon Michael as our own brother. Here we are at the pond--or lake, as we
+prefer to call it--and there are the swans, Snowflake and Eiderdown, as
+I have christened them.'
+
+'It is a charming spot,' observed Cyril, leaning over the fence to look
+at the beautiful creatures. He was quite unaware, as he lounged there,
+that he added another picturesque effect to the landscape, his bright
+blue coat and peaked cap making a spot of colour against Audrey's white
+gown. 'So that is the island where Kester found the forget-me-nots for
+Mollie? It looks as though one could carry it off bodily in one's arms,'
+he continued, after a reflective pause.
+
+'Mr. Blake, I will not permit such remarks,' returned Audrey, laughing.
+'I have often paddled myself about the lake. At least, it is deep enough
+to drown one. Now tell me how Mollie is.'
+
+'Mollie is inconsolable because she has not seen you for two whole
+days. She spent most of the morning at the window in the hope of seeing
+you pass.'
+
+'Nonsense!'
+
+'Oh, it is a fact, I assure you. My mother told me so herself. Will
+there be any chance of your looking in to-morrow, Miss Ross? I am going
+back now, and I am sure such a message would make Mollie happy for the
+remainder of the evening.'
+
+Audrey smiled.
+
+'I do not think I will send the message, Mr. Blake. I half thought of
+calling on some friends of mine who live a little way out of Rutherford,
+but if I have time----'
+
+She paused, not quite knowing how to finish her sentence.
+
+'Well, I will say nothing about it,' he returned quickly. 'You have been
+far too good to us already. Mollie must not presume on your kindness;'
+and then he took up his racket.
+
+'Why are you leaving us so early, Mr. Blake? There is surely time for
+another game?'
+
+'Thanks; I must not stop any longer now. My mother asked me to take her
+for a walk, and, as Kester can do without me this evening, I promised
+that I would.'
+
+'And you will take Mollie? There is such a pretty walk across the fields
+to Everdeen Wood, if Mrs. Blake does not mind a few stiles. Mollie will
+not, I am sure.'
+
+'I think Mollie will prefer to stay with Kester,' he replied quickly. 'I
+am sorry to leave so early, Miss Ross, but one does not like to
+disappoint other people.'
+
+'I begin to think you are one of the unselfish ones,' thought Audrey, as
+she gave him her hand. Then aloud: 'You must come to us next Monday, Mr.
+Blake, for I am sure my brother-in-law will want his revenge. Oh, there
+is Booty, so of course his master is not far off. I will go and meet
+him.'
+
+Then she nodded to Cyril, and turned off into a side-path just as
+Captain Burnett came in sight.
+
+'Are they still playing, Michael?'
+
+'No. Harcourt wants to be off; he and Gage are to dine at the
+Fortescues', so they have agreed to break up earlier. Why is Blake
+leaving us so soon? Your father proposed that he should be asked to
+dinner.'
+
+'I don't think he would be persuaded,' she replied, wishing that she had
+not taken him so easily at his word. 'He has promised to take his mother
+for a walk. He is really a very good son. Most young men care only about
+their own pleasure.'
+
+'I think I like him,' returned Michael, in his slow, considering tone.
+'We had a smoke together yesterday up in my room, and I confess he
+interested me. He seems to feel his responsibility so with respect to
+that poor boy. He was very grateful to me for my proposed help, and said
+so in a frank, manly fashion that somehow pleased me.'
+
+'I am so glad you like him, Michael!' and Audrey's tone expressed
+decided pleasure.
+
+'Oh, we shall hit it off very well, I expect; but I daresay we shall not
+see very much of each other. He goes in for cricket, and makes
+tremendous scores, I hear, and the Hill houses will soon monopolise him.
+He is too good-looking a fellow not to be a favourite with the
+ladies--eh, Audrey?'
+
+'I am sure I don't know,' returned Audrey, who could be a trifle dense
+when she chose. 'I do not think Mr. Blake is a lady's man, if that is
+what you mean. Don't you detest the genus, Michael?'
+
+'Do I not!' was the expressive answer; and then he went on: 'I am quite
+of your opinion that Blake is a nice, gentlemanly fellow; but I think
+that brother of his is still more interesting. Poor little chap! he has
+plenty of brains; he is as sharp as some fellows of nineteen or twenty.
+Blake is clever enough, but one of these days Kester will make his mark.
+He has a perfect thirst for knowledge. I drew him out this morning, for
+we only made a pretence at work. You should have heard him talk.'
+
+'That is exactly his brother's opinion,' returned Audrey; and she
+repeated Cyril's words.
+
+Michael was evidently struck by them.
+
+'He seems very fond of him, and, for the matter of that, the poor boy is
+devoted to his brother. I suppose that accident has made a link between
+them. I do not know that I ever took so much interest in your _proteges_
+before. By the bye, what has become of the O'Briens, Audrey?'
+
+'I am going to see them to-morrow. I know what that inquiry means,
+Michael. You think that I am always so much taken up with new people
+that I forget my old friends; but you are wrong.' And then she added, a
+little reproachfully: 'That you of all people should accuse me of
+fickleness!'
+
+Captain Burnett smiled a little gravely.
+
+'You are investing my words with too large a meaning. I do not think you
+in the least fickle; it is only your headlong sympathies that carry you
+away.' But as Audrey looked a little mystified over this speech, he
+continued: 'I would not have you neglect Mr. O'Brien for the world. I
+only wish Vineyard Cottage were a mile or two nearer, and I would often
+smoke a pipe in that earwiggy bower of his. I have a profound respect
+for Thomas O'Brien. I love a man who lives up to his profession, and is
+not above his business. A retired tradesman who tries to forget he was
+ever behind the counter, and who goes through life aping the manners of
+gentlefolk, is a poor sort of body in my eyes; he is neither fish, fowl,
+nor good red herring. Now Mr. O'Brien is as proud of being a
+corn-chandler as'--he paused for a simile--'as our drummer-boy was of
+belonging to the British army.'
+
+'Poor old man! he has seen a peck of trouble, as he calls it.'
+
+'There, you see,' interrupting her delightedly, 'his very language
+borrows its most powerful imagery from his past belongings! Do you or I,
+Audrey, in our wildest and most despairing moments, ever talk of a peck
+of trouble? Depend upon it, my dear, when Thomas made that speech, he
+was among his bins again; in his mind's eye he was measuring out his
+oats and beans. I think I hear him repeating again what he once said to
+me: "It is such a clean, wholesome business, Captain. I often dream I am
+back in the shop again, with my wife laying the tea in the back-parlour.
+I can feel the grain slithering between my fingers, and even the
+dropping of the peas on the counter out of the overfilled bags is as
+plain as possible. Mat always did his work so awkwardly."'
+
+'I don't think he has ever got over the loss of his wife, Michael.'
+
+'Of course not. Is he likely to do so, with Mrs. Baxter's lugubrious
+countenance opposite him morning, noon, and night? I don't wonder her
+husband ran away from her; it would take a deal of principle to put up
+with such a trying woman.'
+
+'Michael, I will not have you so severe on my friends! Mrs. Baxter is a
+very good woman, and she takes great care of her father. We cannot all
+be gifted with good spirits. Poor Priscilla Baxter is a disappointed
+woman.'
+
+Michael shrugged his shoulders, but he was spared making any reply, as
+just then they encountered Geraldine and her husband. They were
+evidently looking for Audrey.
+
+'Are you going, Gage?' observed Audrey serenely. 'I was just coming up
+to the house to wish you good-bye, only Michael detained me.'
+
+'I thought you were with Mr. Blake,' returned her sister, in a puzzled
+tone. 'I wish you would come up to luncheon to-morrow--I have scarcely
+spoken two words to you this afternoon. Edith is coming.'
+
+'It will be a pity to interrupt your _tete-a-tete_,' returned Audrey
+pleasantly; 'Mrs. Bryce has always so much to say, and she comes so
+seldom.' And, as her sister's face clouded, she continued: 'I will run
+up for an hour on Wednesday, but I really cannot neglect Mr. O'Brien any
+longer--he will have been looking for me day after day.'
+
+'Oh, if you are going to Vineyard Cottage,' in a mollified tone that
+Audrey perfectly understood, 'you will have tea there, of course.'
+
+'Do you think Mrs. Baxter would let me come away without my tea?'
+returned Audrey quickly.
+
+She was inwardly somewhat annoyed at this questioning. She had meant to
+go to the Gray Cottage on her way; but now she must give that up: Mollie
+must watch for her a little longer. Perhaps she could go to Hillside in
+the morning and keep her afternoon free. And as she came to this
+conclusion, she bade her sister an affectionate good-bye. But as
+Geraldine took her husband's arm in the steep shrubbery walk, she said,
+in a dissatisfied tone:
+
+'I am glad we found her with Michael; but, all the same, she and Mr.
+Blake were partners all the afternoon.'
+
+'My dear Geraldine,' returned Mr. Harcourt with assumed solemnity, 'I
+think Audrey may be trusted to manage her own little affairs--she is
+two-and-twenty, is she not? When you have daughters of your own, my
+love, I am quite sure you will manage them excellently, and no young man
+will have a chance of speaking to them; but with Audrey it is another
+matter.' And then, in a tragic undertone: 'Have you forgotten, wife
+mine, a certain afternoon when you did me the honour of playing with me
+three whole sets, and then we cooled ourselves down by the lake, until
+your father hunted us out?'
+
+Geraldine pressed her husband's arm gently; she remembered that
+afternoon well, and all Percival had said to her--they had just come to
+an understanding when her father interrupted them. For one moment her
+face softened at the sweet remembrance, and then she roused herself to
+remonstrate.
+
+'But, Percy dear, this is utterly different. Audrey would never dream of
+falling in love with Mr. Blake. Fancy a girl in her position encouraging
+the attentions of a junior master. No, indeed; I was only afraid of a
+little flirtation. Of course Audrey declares she never flirts, but she
+has such a way with her--she is too kind in her manner sometimes.'
+
+'It is to be hoped that she will not break as many hearts as a certain
+young person I know--eh, Jerry?' and Geraldine blushed and held her
+peace.
+
+She never liked to be reminded of the unlucky wooers who had shaken off
+the dust of Woodcote so sorrowfully. As for Mr. Harcourt, he delighted
+in these proofs of conquests. Geraldine had not been easy to win--she
+had given her lover plenty of trouble; but she was his now, and, as he
+often told himself, no man had ever been more fortunate in his choice.
+For Mr. Harcourt, in spite of his delight in teasing, was very deeply in
+love with his beautiful wife.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+MAT
+
+     'Sympathy or no sympathy, a man's love should no more fail towards
+     his fellows than that love which spent itself on disciples who
+     altogether misunderstood it, like the rain which falls on just and
+     unjust alike.'--MARK RUTHERFORD.
+
+
+Vineyard Cottage, where the retired corn-chandler had elected to spend
+the remnant of his days, was no pretentious stucco villa; it was a real
+old-fashioned cottage, with a big roomy porch well covered with
+honeysuckle and sweet yellow jasmine, and a sitting-room on either side
+of the door, with one small-paned window, which was certainly not filled
+with plate-glass. It was a snug, bowery little place, and the fresh
+dimity curtains at the upper windows, and the stand of blossoming plants
+in the little passage, gave it a cheerful and inviting aspect. The tiny
+lawn was smooth as velvet, and a row of tall white lilies, flanked with
+fragrant lavender, filled up the one narrow bed that ran by the side of
+the privet hedge.
+
+As Audrey unlatched the little gate she had a glimpse of Mr. O'Brien in
+his shirt-sleeves. He was smoking in the porch, and so busily engaged in
+reading his paper that Audrey's light tread failed to arouse him, until
+a plaintive and fretful voice from within made him turn his head.
+
+'Father, aren't you ashamed to be sitting there in your shirt-sleeves
+when Miss Ross has come to call? And it is 'most four o'clock,
+too--pretty near about tea-time.'
+
+'Miss Ross--you don't say so, Prissy!' returned Mr. O'Brien, thrusting
+an arm hastily into the coat that his daughter was holding out in an
+aggressively reproachful manner. 'How do you do, Miss Ross? Wait a
+moment--wait a moment, until I can shake hands with you. Now, then, the
+other arm, Prissy. You are as welcome as flowers in May--and as blooming
+too, isn't she, Prissy?' and Mr. O'Brien enforced his compliment with a
+grasp of the hand that made Audrey wince.
+
+'I expected a scolding--I did indeed,' laughed Audrey, 'instead of this
+very kind welcome. It is so long since my last visit; is it not, Mr.
+O'Brien?'
+
+'Well, ma'am, tell the truth and shame the devil; that's my motto. I'll
+not deny that Prissy and I were wondering at your absence. "What's
+become of Miss Ross?" she said to me only to-day at dinner, "for she has
+not been near us for an age."'
+
+'And I was right, father, and it is an age since Miss Ross honoured us
+with a visit,' replied his daughter in the plaintive tone that seemed
+natural to her. 'It was just five weeks ago, for Susan Larkins had come
+up about the bit of washing her mother wished to have, so I remember the
+day well.'
+
+'Five weeks!' responded Audrey with a shake of her head; 'what a memory
+you have, Mrs. Baxter, and, dear me, how ill you are looking; is there
+anything the matter?' looking from one to the other with kindly
+scrutiny.
+
+Mr. O'Brien and his daughter were complete contrasts to each other. He
+was a stout, gray-haired man with a pleasant, genial countenance, though
+it was not without its lines of care. Mrs. Baxter, on the contrary, had
+a long melancholy face and anxious blue eyes. Her black gown clung to
+her thin figure in limp folds; her features were not bad, and a little
+liveliness and expression would have made her a good-looking woman; but
+her dejected air and want of colouring detracted from her comeliness,
+and of late years her voice had grown peevish as well as plaintive, as
+though her troubles had been too heavy for her. Audrey had a sincere
+respect for her; but she certainly wished that Mrs. Baxter took a less
+lugubrious view of life. At times she would try to infuse a little of
+her own cheerfulness; but she soon found that Mrs. Baxter was too
+closely wrapped in her melancholy. In her own language, she preferred
+the house of mourning to the house of feasting.
+
+'Oh, I hope there is nothing fresh the matter!' repeated Audrey, whose
+clear-sighted sympathy was never at fault.
+
+She thought that Mr. O'Brien's genial face looked a shade graver than
+usual.
+
+'Come and sit down, Miss Ross, and I will be hurrying the girl with the
+tea,' observed Mrs. Baxter mournfully, for she was never too lachrymose
+to be hospitable, and though she shed tears on slight occasions, she was
+always disposed to press her hot buttered cakes on her guests, and any
+refusal to taste her good cheer would have grievously wounded her
+bruised sensibilities. 'Father, take Miss Ross into the best parlour
+while I help Hannah a bit.'
+
+And as Mr. O'Brien laid aside his pipe and led the way into the house,
+Audrey followed him, nothing loath.
+
+'Joe's been troubling Priscilla again,' he observed, as Audrey seated
+herself on the little horsehair sofa beside the open window, and Buff, a
+great tortoise-shell cat, jumped uninvited on her lap and began purring
+loudly.
+
+'Joe!' repeated Audrey in a shocked voice; she knew very well who was
+meant. Joe was the ne'er-do-well of a son-in-law whose iniquities had
+transformed the young and comely Priscilla into the meagre and
+colourless Mrs. Baxter. 'He has no right to trouble her!' she went on
+indignantly.
+
+'He has been worrying for money again,' returned Mr. O'Brien, ruffling
+up his gray hair in a discontented fashion; 'he says he is hard up. But
+that is only one of Joe's lies; he tells lies by the peck. He had a good
+coat on, and looked as thriving as possible, and I know from Atkinson,
+who has been in Leeds, that he is a traveller to some house in the wine
+trade. And yet he comes here, the bullying rascal! fretting the poor
+lass to skin and bone with pretending he can take the law of her for not
+living with him, and that after all his ill-usage.'
+
+'I am so sorry,' returned Audrey, and her tone said more than her words.
+'He is a bad man, a thoroughly heartless and bad man--everyone knows
+that; and she must never go back to him. I hope you told him so.'
+
+'Ay, I did,' with a touch of gruffness; 'I found him bullying, and poor
+Prissy crying her eyes out, and looking ready to drop--for she is afraid
+of him--and I just took down my big stick. "Joe," I said, as he began
+blustering about her being his true and lawful wife, "you just drop that
+and listen to me: if she is your wife, she is my daughter, our only
+one--for never chick nor child had we beside Priscilla--and she is going
+to stop along with me, law or no law."
+
+'"I'll claim my own. There's two to that bargain, father-in-law," he
+says, with a sneer; for, you see, he was turning a bit nasty.
+
+'"And you'll claim something else as well, son-in-law!" I replied,
+getting a good grip of the stick; for my blood was up, and I would have
+felled him to the ground with all the pleasure in life, only the girl
+got between us.
+
+'"No, father--no violence!" she screeches out. "Don't make things worse
+for poor, unhappy me. Joe is not worth your getting into trouble on his
+account. Go along with you, Joe, and Heaven forgive you; but horses
+wouldn't drag me under your roof again after the way you have treated
+me."
+
+'Well, I suppose we made it too hot for him, ma'am, for he soon beat a
+retreat. Joe was always a coward. I would have hurried him out with a
+kick, but I thought it better to be prudent; and Priscilla went and had
+a fit of hysterics in her own room, and she has been looking mortal bad,
+poor lass! ever since.'
+
+'I wish we could save her these trying scenes, Mr. O'Brien; they get on
+her nerves.'
+
+'Ah, that is what her mother said! "Prissy will never have a day's
+health if we can't hinder Joe from coming to plague her"--I remember my
+Susan saying that. Why, it was half for Prissy's sake we gave up the
+shop. "What is the good of filling our purse, Tom, when we have plenty
+for ourselves and Priscilla!" she was always saying to me. But there, I
+was fond of the shop--it is no use denying it--and it takes a special
+sort of education to fit one for idleness. Even now--would you believe
+it, ma'am?--I have a sort of longing to finger the oats and peas again.'
+
+'But you are very fond of your cottage and your garden, Mr. O'Brien.
+Captain Burnett says it is the prettiest little place about here.'
+
+'Ah, I have been forgetting my manners, and I have never asked after the
+Captain, though he is a prime favourite of mine. Oh yes, he always has
+his little joke. "What will you sell it for, O'Brien, just as it stands?
+Name your own price." Well, it is a snug little place; and if only my
+little woman were here and I had news of Mat----' And here Mr. O'Brien
+pushed his hand through his gray hair again, and sighed as he looked out
+on his row of lilies.
+
+Audrey sat still in sympathising silence. She knew how her old friend
+loved to unburden himself. He talked to no one else as he did to this
+girl--not even to the Captain. He liked to enlarge in his simple way on
+his old happy life, when Prissy was young and he and his wife thought
+handsome Joe Baxter a grand lover for their girl, with his fine figure
+and soft, wheedling tongue.
+
+'But we were old enough to know better--we were a couple of fools, of
+course; I know that now,' he would say. 'But he just talked us over--Joe
+is a rare hand at talking even now. He can use fine words; he has
+learnt it in his business. I think our worst time was when Prissy's baby
+died and she began to droop, and in her weakness she let it all out to
+her mother. I remember my little woman coming into the shop that day,
+with the tears running down her face. "Tom," she says, "what have we
+ever done to be so punished? Joe is treating Prissy like a brute, and my
+poor girl's heart is broken." Dear, dear! how I wanted Mat then!'
+
+Audrey knew all about this Mat--at least, the little there was to know.
+One day, soon after Mr. O'Brien had lost his wife, and she had found him
+sitting alone in the porch, he had begun talking to her of his own
+accord of a young brother whom he called Mat, but to no one else had he
+ever mentioned his name. Audrey had been much touched and surprised by
+this confidence, and from time to time Mr. O'Brien had continued to
+speak of him, until she was in possession of the main facts.
+
+Thomas O'Brien had lost his parents early, and his brothers and sisters
+had died in infancy, with the exception of the youngest, Matthew, or
+Mat, as he was generally called. There was so much difference between
+their ages that Mat was quite a plaything and pet to his elder brother.
+From all accounts, he was a bright, engaging little fellow, and
+developed unusual capacity.
+
+'He was a cut above us, and people took notice of him, and that spoiled
+him,' observed Mr. O'Brien one day.
+
+Audrey, piecing the fragments of conversation together, could picture
+the clever, handsome lad learning his lessons in the little back
+parlour, while honest Tom served in the shop. But Mat was not always so
+studious: he would be sliding with the Rector's boys, or helping them to
+make a snow man; sometimes he would be having tea at the Rectory, or
+with his master, or even with the curates. One of the curates was
+musical, and Mat had an angelic voice. One could imagine the danger to
+the precocious, clever boy, and how perhaps, on his return, he would
+gibe a little in his impertinent boyish fashion at thickheaded, clumsy
+Tom among his cornbins and sacks of split peas.
+
+Mat did not wish to be a corn-chandler. When Tom married the daughter of
+a neighbouring baker, Mat was heard to mutter to one of his intimates
+that Tom might have looked higher for a wife. He grew a little
+discontented after that, and gave the young couple plenty of trouble
+until he got his way--a bad way, too--and went off to seek his fortunes
+in London.
+
+Tom missed the lad sadly; even his Susan's rosy cheeks and good-humour
+failed to console him for a while. Not until Prissy made her
+appearance--and in clamorous baby fashion wheedled her way into her
+father's affections--did his sore heart cease to regret the young
+brother.
+
+Susan used to talk to her husband in her sensible way.
+
+'It is no use your fretting, Tom,' she would say; 'boys will be boys,
+and anything is better for Mat than hanging about here with his hands in
+his pockets and doing nothing but gossip with the customers. He was
+growing into idle ways. It was a shame for a big fellow like Mat to be
+living upon his brother; it is far better for him to be thrown on
+himself to work for his bread,' finished Susan, rocking her baby, for
+she was a shrewd little person in her way.
+
+'I don't like to think of Mat alone in London,' returned Tom slowly; but
+as he looked into his wife's innocent eyes he forbore to utter all his
+thoughts aloud. Tom was old enough to know something of the world; he
+could guess at the pitfalls that stretched before the lad's unwary feet.
+Mat was young, barely eighteen, his very gifts of beauty and cleverness
+might lead him into trouble.
+
+'I wish I had him here,' muttered Tom, as he went off to serve a
+customer. 'Peterborough is a better place for him than London;' for they
+were living at Peterborough then.
+
+Tom cheered up presently, when Mat wrote one of his flourishing letters;
+he was a fine letter-writer. He was in luck's way, he told Tom, and had
+fallen on his feet; at his first application he had obtained a clerkship
+in some business house, and his employer had taken a fancy to him.
+
+'I feel like Dick Whittington,' wrote Mat, in his happy, boastful way;
+'all night long the bells were saying to me, "Turn again, turn again,
+Mat O'Brien, for fortune is before you." I could hear them in my
+dreams--and then the next morning came a letter from Mr. Turner. Dear
+old chap, you won't bother about me any more, for I mean to stick to my
+work like a galley slave. Give my love to Susan, and kiss the little
+one--couldn't you have found a better name than that Puritan Priscilla,
+you foolish Tom?'--and so on. Audrey once read that letter, and a dozen
+more of the same type; she thought them very affectionate and clever.
+Every now and then there were graphic descriptions of a day's amusement
+or sight-seeing. What was it they lacked? Audrey could never answer
+that question, but she laid them down with a dim feeling of
+dissatisfaction.
+
+Mat used to run down for a day or two when business permitted, and take
+possession of his shabby little room under the roof. How happy honest
+Tom would be on these occasions! how he would chuckle to himself as he
+saw his customers--female customers especially--cast sidelong glances at
+the handsome dark-haired youth who lounged by the door!
+
+'Old Mrs. Stevenson took him for a gentleman,' Tom remarked to Susan
+once, rubbing his hands over the joke. 'Mat is so well set up, and wears
+such a good coat; just look at his boots!--and his shirts are ever so
+much finer than mine; he looks like a young lord in his Sunday best,'
+went on Tom, who admired his young brother with every fibre of his
+heart.
+
+Mat was quite aware of the sensation he made among his old friends and
+neighbours; he liked to feel his own importance. He came pretty
+frequently at first; he was tolerant of Susan's homeliness and sisterly
+advice, he took kindly to Prissy, and brought her a fine coral necklace
+to wear on her fat dimpled neck; but after a year or two he came less
+often.
+
+'Leave him alone,' Susan would say when Tom grumbled to her over his
+pipe of an evening; 'Mat has grown too fine for the shop; nothing
+pleased him last time. He wanted napkins with his food because of his
+moustache, and he complained that his bed was so hard he could not sleep
+on it. It is easy to see that our homely ways do not suit him. I wish
+your heart were not set on him so much, Tom; it is thankless work to
+cling to a person who wants to get rid of his belongings.'
+
+'Nay, Susan, you are too hard on the lad,' her husband remonstrated;
+'Mat will never cut us--he has an affectionate heart. He is only having
+his fling, as lads, even the best of them, will at times. By and by he
+will settle down, and then we shall see more of him.'
+
+But in spite of Tom's faith, that time never came. By and by Mat wrote
+with a greater flourish than ever.
+
+'Wish me joy, my dear Susan and Tom,' he wrote, 'for I am going to be
+married, and to the prettiest and the dearest girl in the world. Just
+fancy, Tom, her uncle is a Dean! what do you think of your brother Mat
+now? "Turn again, turn again, Mat O'Brien"--that is what the bells said
+to me, and, by Jove! they were right. Haven't I had a rise this
+Christmas?--and now my dear little Olive has promised to take me for
+better or worse. Oh, Tom, you should just see her--she is such a
+darling! and I am the luckiest fellow in the world to get her! I can see
+Susan shaking her head and saying in her wise way that I am young to
+take the cares of life on my shoulders; but when a fellow is head over
+heels in love, he cannot stop to balance arguments. And after all, we
+are not so imprudent, for when the Dean dies, and he is an old man,
+Olive will have a pretty penny of her own. So wish me joy, dear Tom, and
+send me your blessing.'
+
+Tom fairly wept over this letter; he carried it about with him and read
+it at intervals during the day.
+
+'If only she makes the lad happy!' he said to Susan. 'To think of our
+Mat marrying a gentlewoman, for of course a Dean's niece is that;' and
+Susan, whose knowledge of the world was small, supposed so too.
+
+Tom was hoping that Mat would bring his young wife down to receive his
+brotherly congratulations in person; but there was always some excuse
+for the delay. Olive was delicate; she could not travel; Mat could not
+leave her to come himself, and so on. Tom never doubted these excuses;
+he even made his little joke about the lad becoming a family man; but
+Susan, who was sharper than her husband, read between the lines. Mat was
+ashamed of bringing the Dean's niece down to see the shop; it was
+possible, but here Susan almost shuddered at the awfulness of the
+thought, that he might not have told his wife that he had a brother.
+
+'Mat is as weak as water, with all his cleverness,' she said to herself;
+'if he has not told her yet, he will put it off from day to day. There
+is nothing easier than procrastination if you once give in to it. Few
+people speak the truth like my Tom, bless him!'
+
+Susan would not grieve her husband by hinting at these suspicions,
+though they grew stronger as time went on. Mat never brought his wife to
+see them; he seldom wrote, unless to tell them of the birth of a child,
+and then his letters were brief and unsatisfactory. Tom once wrote and
+asked him if he were happy, 'for somehow Susan and I have got into our
+heads that things are not quite square,' wrote the simple fellow. 'Do
+come and let us have a chat together over our pipes. Prissy is getting
+quite a big girl; you would hardly know her now.'
+
+Perhaps Mat was touched by this persistent kindness on his brother's
+part, for he answered that letter by return of post.
+
+'One must not expect too much happiness in this crooked old world,' he
+wrote; 'but you and Susan are such old-fashioned people. Olive and I
+have as much enjoyment of life as ordinary folk. We quarrel sometimes
+and make it up again. I was never a very patient mortal--eh, old
+chap?--and one's temper does not improve with age.' And then after a
+little talk about the children, who had been ill with scarlatina, the
+letter wound up by begging the loan of a five-pound note.
+
+Tom did not show this letter to Susan. For the first time in his life he
+kept a secret from the wife of his bosom. He put two five-pound notes in
+an envelope, and sent them with his love to Olive and the children. A
+pang of remorse must have crossed Mat's heart at this fresh act of
+kindness; but though he acknowledged the gift with the utmost gratitude,
+he neither came nor wrote again for a long time.
+
+Some time after that Tom took an odd notion in his head: he would go up
+to London and see Mat and his wife and children; he was just hankering
+for a sight of the lad, as he told Susan. To be sure, Mat had never
+invited him--never hinted at such a thing in his letters; he could not
+be sure of his welcome. Susan tried to dissuade him, but to no purpose;
+for once Tom was deaf to his little woman's advice. He left her in
+charge of the shop one fine spring morning and started for London and
+Bayswater, where Mat lived.
+
+He came back earlier than Susan expected, and there was a sad look in
+his eyes as he sat down and filled his pipe. Susan forbore to question
+him at first; she got him some supper and a jug of the best ale, and
+presently he began to talk of his own accord:
+
+'There were other people living in No. 23 Mortimer Terrace. The O'Briens
+had left more than a year ago, and no one knew where they were. Fancy
+Mat leaving and never giving me his address!' finished Tom with an air
+of deep depression.
+
+He was evidently much wounded at this want of brotherly confidence.
+
+'But surely you know his business address, dear?' Susan asked quietly.
+
+No; Tom did not know even that. He reminded her that Mat had long ago
+left his old employers, and had set up for himself; but Tom did not know
+where his office was.
+
+'I always wrote to his private address, you know, Susan,' he went on.
+'Mat told me that no one ever opened his letters but himself; but how
+am I to find him out now if he chooses to hide himself from his only
+brother?'
+
+And though Tom said no more, he moped for many a day after that
+fruitless expedition.
+
+By and by the truth leaked out--Mat was in trouble, and in such trouble
+that no fraternal help could avail him. One awful day, a day that turned
+Tom's hair gray with horror and anguish, he heard that Mat--handsome,
+brilliant Mat--was in a felon's cell, condemned to penal servitude for a
+long term of years. In a moment of despair he had forged the name of one
+of his so-called friends, and by this terrible act had obtained
+possession of a large sum of money.
+
+Tom's anguish at this news was not to be described; he cried like a
+child, and Susan vainly tried to comfort him.
+
+'My father's name,' he kept repeating--'he has disgraced our honest
+name! I will never forgive him; I will have nothing more to do with
+him--he has covered us all with shame!'
+
+And then the next moment he relented at the thought of Mat, beaten down
+and miserable, and perhaps repentant, in his wretched cell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+PRISCILLA BAXTER
+
+     'How many people are busy in this world in gathering together a
+     handful of thorns to sit upon!'--JEREMY TAYLOR.
+
+
+Audrey never forgot the day when she first heard this sad story. It was
+on a winter's afternoon, and she and Mr. O'Brien were alone in the
+cottage. She remembered how the setting sun threw ruddy streaks across
+the snow, and how the light of the fire beside which they sat later on
+in the twilight illumined the low room and flashed out on the privet
+hedge, now a mass of sparkling icicles. She and Geraldine had driven
+into Brail, and by and by the carriage was coming back to fetch her.
+
+They had been talking of Mat, and Mr. O'Brien had shown her some of his
+letters; and then, all at once, his face had grown very white and
+troubled, and in a few husky sentences he had told her the rest of the
+story; and as Audrey listened there was a gleam of a teardrop on her
+long lashes.
+
+'But you went to see him--surely you went to see him?' she asked
+tremulously, as he came to a sudden pause; but he shook his gray head
+very sorrowfully.
+
+'I would have gone, ay, willingly, when my anger had burnt out a bit. I
+just hungered to see the poor lad--he was still a lad to me--and to
+shake him by the hand; for all he had done, he was still Mat, you see;
+but he would not let me: he begged and prayed of me not to come.'
+
+'Ah, that was cruel!'
+
+'Nay, he meant no unkindness; but he was pretty nearly crazed, poor
+chap! I have the letter now that he wrote to me; the chaplain sent it,
+but no eye but mine must ever see it. I have written it down in my will
+that it is to be buried with me: "Don't come unless you wish me to do
+something desperate, Tom; I think if I saw your honest face in my cell
+I should just make away with myself. No, no, dear old chap; let me dree
+my weird, as Susan used to say. I have shamed you all, and my heart is
+broken; try to forget that you ever had a brother Mat." Eh, they were
+desperate words for a man to write; but I do not doubt that he meant
+them.'
+
+'Did he mention his wife and children?'
+
+'No, never a word of them. I wrote to him more than once, but he never
+answered me. He was such a long way off, you see; they send them to
+Dartmoor now. As far as I know, Mat may be dead and buried. Well, it is
+hard lines, and I have known a peck of troubles in my time. There, you
+know it all, Miss Ross; it beats me why I've told you, for no one in the
+world knows it but Prissy--you have drawn it out of me somehow; you've
+got a hearty way with you that reminds me of my Susan, and I never had
+but that one secret from her--when I sent Mat the two five-pound notes.'
+
+'Your story is safe with me, my dear old friend,' returned Audrey,
+laying her hand on his arm; 'you must never regret telling me. I have
+heard so many sad histories--people always tell me their troubles; they
+know they can trust me. I am fond of talking,' went on Audrey, in her
+earnest way, 'but I have never betrayed a person's confidence; I have
+never once repeated anything that my friends have told me--their
+troubles are as sacred to me as my own would be.'
+
+'I am bound to believe you,' returned Mr. O'Brien, looking thoughtfully
+at the girlish face and steadfast eyes; 'Prissy says it always gives her
+a comfortable feeling to talk out her troubles to you. It is a gift, I
+am thinking; but you are young to have it. Did I ever tell you, Miss
+Ross, what Susan said to me when she was dying?'
+
+'No, I am sure you never told me that.'
+
+'Well, Prissy had gone to lie down, and I was alone with Susan. It was
+the room above us where she died. I was sitting by the fire, thinking
+she was having a fine sleep, and would surely be better for it, when she
+suddenly spoke my name: "Tom," she said, "I know just what you are
+thinking about: you have got Mat in your mind." Well, I could not deny
+that, and Susan was always so sharp in finding me out; and then she
+begged me to sit by her a bit: "For you are very low about everything,
+dear Tom," she went on; "you've got to lose me, and there's Prissy, poor
+girl! with her bad husband; and when you have nothing better to do you
+think about Mat. Sometimes I wish you were back in the shop, when I see
+you looking at the fire in that way."
+
+"I was only wondering whether I should ever see the poor lad again," I
+returned, with a sigh; "that was all my thought, Susan."
+
+"I am sure you will see him again," she replied very earnestly, with a
+kind of solemnity in her voice; "I don't know why I think so, Tom, but
+they say the dying are very clear-sighted, and it is strong upon me that
+Mat will one day seek you out." Now, wasn't that strange, Miss Ross?'
+
+'No,' replied Audrey, 'she may have spoken the truth; while there is
+life there is hope. Do not be disheartened, my dear friend; you have had
+great troubles, but God has helped you to bear them, and you are not
+without your blessings.'
+
+'That's true,' he returned, looking round him; 'I would sooner live in
+this cottage than in a palace. I don't believe, as the Captain says,
+there is a prettier place anywhere. I like to think Susan lies so near
+me, in Brail Churchyard, and that by and by I'll lie beside her; and if
+I could only see my girl more cheerful----'
+
+'Oh, you must give her time to live down her worries. There! I hear the
+carriage;' and Audrey went in search of her fur-lined cloak.
+
+This conversation had taken place about eighteen months ago, and though
+Audrey had never alluded to it of her own accord, it touched her greatly
+to notice how, when he was alone with her, Mr. O'Brien would drop a few
+words which showed how clearly he remembered it.
+
+'There is no one else to whom I can speak of Mat,' he said one day;
+'Prissy never cared much about him--I think she dislikes the subject; as
+sure as ever I mention Mat she cries and begins to talk of Joe.'
+
+Audrey was not at all surprised when Mr. O'Brien made that allusion as
+she was stroking the tortoise-shell cat in the sunshine. She could hear
+Mrs. Baxter laying the tea-things in the other parlour, where they
+generally sat, and the smell of the hot cakes and fragrant new bread
+reached them. The cuckoo's note was distinctly audible in the distance;
+a brown bee had buried himself in the calyx of one of the lilies; and
+some white butterflies were skimming over the flower-beds. The sweet
+stillness of the summer afternoon seemed to lull her into a reverie; how
+impossible it was to realise sin and sorrow and broken hearts and the
+great hungry needs of humanity, when the sky was so blue and cloudless,
+and the insects were humming in the fulness of their tiny joy! 'Will
+sorrow ever come to me?' thought the girl dreamily; 'of course, I know
+it must some day; but it seems so strange to think of a time when I
+shall be no longer young and strong and full of joy.' And then a wave of
+pity swept over her soft heart as she noticed the wrinkles in her old
+friend's face. 'I wish Mrs. Baxter were more cheerful,' she said
+inwardly; 'she has depressed him, and he has been missing me all these
+weeks.'
+
+Audrey tried to be very good to him as they sat together for the next
+half-hour. She told him the Rutherford news, and then asked him all
+manner of questions. Audrey was a hypocrite in her innocent fashion; she
+could not really have been so anxious to know how the strawberries and
+peas were doing in the little kitchen garden behind the cottage, and if
+the speckled hen were sitting, or if Hannah, the new girl, were likely
+to satisfy Mrs. Baxter. And yet all these questions were put, as though
+everything depended on the answers. 'For you know, Mr. O'Brien,' she
+went on very seriously, 'Ralph declares that we shall have very little
+fruit this season--those tiresome winds have stripped the
+apple-trees--and for some reason or other we have never had such a poor
+show of gooseberries.'
+
+'The potatoes are doing finely, though,' returned Mr. O'Brien, who had
+risen to the bait; 'after tea I hope you will walk round the garden with
+me, ma'am, and you will be surprised to see the way some of the things
+have improved.'
+
+'Tea is ready, father,' observed Mrs. Baxter at this point. 'Miss Ross,
+will you take that chair by the window? you will feel the air there. I
+am going to ask a blessing, father: "For what we are going to receive
+the Lord make us truly thankful." Yes, Miss Ross, those are your
+favourite scones, and Hannah is baking some more; there's plum preserve
+and lemon marmalade and home-made seed-cake.' And Mrs. Baxter pressed
+one viand after another upon her guest, before she could turn her
+attention to the teapot, which was at present enveloped in a huge
+braided cosy.
+
+'Dear me! I shall never be able to eat my dinner, Mrs. Baxter, and then
+mother will be miserable; you have no idea the fuss she makes if I ever
+say I am not hungry.'
+
+'She is perfectly right, Miss Ross,' was the mournful answer; 'there is
+no blessing to equal good health, and health mainly depends on appetite.
+Where would father and I have been if we had not kept our health? It is
+a wonderful blessing, is it not, father, that I have been so strong? or
+I should have sunk long ago. But, as poor dear mother used to say, there
+is no blessing like a good constitution.'
+
+Everyone has his or her style of conversation, just as all authors have
+their own peculiar style of writing. Mrs. Baxter, for example, delighted
+in iteration; she had a habit of taking a particular word and working it
+to death. Michael was the first person to notice this little
+peculiarity. After his first visit to Vineyard Cottage, as he was
+driving Audrey home in the dog-cart, he said to her:
+
+'Did you notice how often Mrs. Baxter used the same word? I am sure she
+said "trouble" fifty times, if she said it once. She is not a
+bad-looking young woman, but she is a painfully monotonous talker. I
+should say she is totally devoid of originality.'
+
+'I know nothing about health, Mrs. Baxter,' returned Audrey with
+aggressive cheerfulness. 'I am always so well, you see. I never had the
+doctor in my life, except when I had the measles.'
+
+'And the whooping-cough, Miss Ross. Don't say you have not had the
+whooping-cough!'
+
+'Oh yes; when I was a baby. But I hope you do not expect me to remember
+that.'
+
+'I am glad to hear it, I am sure, for you gave me quite a turn. There is
+nothing worse than having the whooping-cough late in life--it is quite
+ruinous to the constitution. You know that, don't you, father?--for
+great-aunt Saunders never got rid of it winter and summer. She had a
+good constitution, too; never ailed much, and brought up a large
+family--though most of them died before her: they had not her
+constitution, had they, father? Great-aunt Saunders was a stout-built
+sort of woman; but with all her good constitution and regular living she
+never got rid of the whooping-cough.'
+
+'Shall I give you a slice of this excellent cake?' asked Audrey
+politely, and with a laudable desire to hear no more of great-aunt
+Saunders' good constitution, and, to change the subject, she begged for
+a recipe of the seed-cake for her mother.
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked almost happy as she gave it. She was an excellent
+cook, and her light hand for cakes and pastry, her delicious scones and
+crisp short-cake, must have been remembered with regret by the recusant
+Joe, and may have had something to do with his anxious claims. Mrs.
+Baxter forgot her beloved iteration; her monotonous voice roused into
+positive animation as she verbally weighed out quantities.
+
+'A great deal depends on the oven, Miss Ross, as I tell Hannah. Many and
+many a well-mixed cake has been spoiled by the baking; you may use the
+best of materials, but if the oven is over-hot----' and so on, to all of
+which Audrey listened with that pleased air of intelligent interest
+which once made Michael call her 'the most consummate little hypocrite
+on the face of the earth.'
+
+'For you were not a bit interested in listening to old Dr. Sullivan's
+account of those beetles,' he said on that occasion. 'You know nothing
+about beetles, Audrey. I saw you once yawning behind your hand--which
+was positively rude--and yet there you were making big eyes at the dear
+old man, and hanging on his words as though they were diamonds and
+pearls.'
+
+'You are too hard on me, Michael,' returned Audrey, who was a little
+hurt at this accusation. She rarely quarrelled with Michael, but now and
+then his keen man's wit was too much for her. 'I was very much
+interested in what Dr. Sullivan was saying, although I certainly do not
+understand the habits of beetles, any more than I understand the Greek
+literature about which you are pleased to talk to me,' in a pointed
+tone. 'And if I yawned'--speaking still in an injured voice--'it was
+because I had been up half the night with poor little Patience
+Atkinson--and I don't like you to call me a hypocrite, when I only meant
+to be kind,' finished Audrey, defending herself bravely in spite of an
+inward qualm that told her that perhaps Michael was right.
+
+Michael looked at her with one of his rare smiles; he saw the girl was a
+little sore.
+
+'My dear,' he said, taking her hand, 'don't be vexed with me. You know
+we always speak the truth to each other. You must not mind my little
+joke. After all, your friends love you the better for your innocent
+hypocrisy. We all pretend a little; conventionality demands it. Which of
+us would have the courage to say to any man, "My good friend, do hold
+your tongue--you are simply boring me with these everlasting stories"?'
+
+'But, Michael,' persisted Audrey, for she wanted to make this thing very
+clear to herself as well as to him, 'I think you are wrong in one thing:
+I am really very seldom bored, as you call it. Even if I do not
+understand things--if they are not particularly interesting--it pleases
+me to listen to people. Old Dr. Sullivan did look so happy with that row
+of nasty little beetles before him, that I was quite pleased to watch
+him. You know people always talk so well on a subject that interests
+them.'
+
+'I know one thing--that there are very few people in the world so
+amiable as a certain young lady of my acquaintance. The world would be a
+better place to live in if there were more like her----' But here he
+checked himself, for he had long ago learnt the useful lesson that
+speech is silvern and silence is golden, and that over-much praise
+seldom benefited anyone.
+
+When tea was over, Audrey accompanied Mr. O'Brien round his small
+domain, while he proudly commented on the flourishing state of his fruit
+and vegetables. Before she left the cottage she contrived to exchange a
+few words with Mrs. Baxter, who had remained in the house, and whom she
+found in the tiny kitchen washing up the best cups and saucers.
+
+'Girls are mostly careless, Miss Ross,' she explained in an apologetic
+manner; 'and Hannah is no better than the rest, so I always wash up
+mother's china myself. It would worry me more than I am already if a cup
+were to be broken.'
+
+'I am so sorry to hear your husband has been troubling you again, Mrs.
+Baxter.'
+
+'Yes, indeed, Miss Ross, and it is a crying shame for Joe to persecute
+me as he does. Sometimes I feel I must just run away and hide myself,
+his visits put me into such a nervous state. It is so bad for father,
+too. He is not as young as he used to be, and since mother's death there
+has been a great change in him. Last time Joe came he put himself out
+terribly, and was for taking the stick to him. I was all in a tremble--I
+was indeed, Miss Ross--for Joe had been drinking, and father's a
+powerful man, and there might have been mischief.'
+
+'I think your husband must be made to understand that he is to leave you
+alone.'
+
+'Oh, you don't know what men are, Miss Ross. They are over-fond of their
+own way. Joe does not find things comfortable without me, and then he is
+always so greedy for money. The ways of Providence are very dark and
+mysterious. When I married Joe I expected as much happiness as other
+women. He was so pleasant-spoken, had such a way with him, that even
+father and mother were deceived in him; he never took anything but his
+tankard of home-brewed ale at our place, and he was so trim and so well
+set up that all the girls were envying me. But the day I wore my gray
+silk dress to go with him to church was the most unfortunate day of my
+life. Mother would far better have laid me in my shroud,' finished Mrs.
+Baxter, with a homely tragedy that was impressive enough in its way.
+
+'Oh, you must not say that,' returned Audrey hastily. 'Life will not
+always be so hard, I hope;' and then she shook hands with the poor
+woman.
+
+Audrey enjoyed her walk back. It was a delicious evening, and the birds
+were singing from every brake and hedgerow. Once or twice she heard the
+harsh call of the corncrake mingled with the flute-like notes of the
+thrush; a lark was carolling high up in the blue sky--by and by she
+heard him descend. Audrey walked swiftly down the long grass lanes, and,
+as she neared Rutherford she could see a dim man's figure in the
+distance. Of course it was Michael coming to meet her, attended by his
+faithful Booty. Audrey smiled and quickened her pace. She was quite used
+to these small attentions, this brotherly surveillance on Michael's
+part--she was never surprised to find him at some unexpected point
+waiting patiently for her.
+
+'Am I late?' she asked hastily, as he rose from the stile and slipped
+his book in his pocket. 'I have had such a nice afternoon. They were so
+pleased to see me, and made so much of me;' then, with a quick change of
+tone, 'You have walked too far to meet me, Michael--you are looking
+paler than usual this evening!'
+
+'Nonsense,' he returned good-humouredly; 'I am all right. Was Mrs.
+Baxter as mournful as usual?' To which question Audrey returned a full
+explanatory answer.
+
+Michael listened with his usual interest, but he made few comments.
+Perhaps his mind was on other things, for when she had finished he said
+somewhat irrelevantly:
+
+'You are right, Audrey--Mrs. Blake is certainly a very pretty woman.'
+
+In a moment Vineyard Cottage, Mr. O'Brien, and the mournful Priscilla
+vanished from Audrey's mind.
+
+'Oh, Michael! have you really seen her?' she asked breathlessly.
+
+'Well, I am not sure,' was the somewhat provoking answer. 'You were not
+there to introduce us, you know, and of course I could not swear that it
+was Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'Dear me, how slow you are, Michael!' for he was speaking in a drawling
+manner. 'Why can't you tell me all about it in a sensible way?'
+
+'Because there is not much to tell,' he returned calmly. 'I was just
+passing the Gray Cottage, when a lady in black came out of the gate. I
+was so close that I had to draw back to let her pass, and of course I
+just lifted my hat; and she bowed and gave me the sweetest smile--it
+haunts me now,' murmured Captain Burnett in a sort of audible aside.
+
+'A lady in black coming out of the Gray Cottage?--of course it was Mrs.
+Blake, you foolish fellow!'
+
+'You think so?' rather sleepily. 'Well, perhaps you are right. I
+certainly heard a window open, and a girl's voice called out, "Mamma,
+will you come back a moment? You have forgotten your sunshade." And the
+lady in black said, "Oh, how stupid of me, Mollie!" and then she whisked
+through the gate again.'
+
+'Did you stand still in the middle of the road to hear all this,
+Michael?'
+
+'No, my dear. There was something wrong with the lock of the
+school-house gate. It is sometimes a little difficult--I must tell
+Sayers it wants oiling.' Michael's face was inimitable as he made this
+remark.
+
+'And so you saw her come out again. Oh, you deep, good-for-nothing
+Michael!'
+
+'I saw her come out again, and she had the sunshade. She walks well,
+Audrey, and she has a pretty, graceful figure--and as for her face----'
+
+'Well!' impatiently.
+
+'I think I will keep that to myself,' he replied with a wicked smile.
+'Do you fancy we could coax Cousin Emmeline to call soon? I begin to
+feel anxious to enlarge my stock of acquaintance, and you must allow
+that a bewitching widow is rather alluring----' He paused.
+
+'Michael,' giving his arm a little jerk, 'a joke is a joke; but, mind, I
+will not have you falling in love with Mrs. Blake. Dear me! what would
+Gage say?'
+
+And at this Michael laughed, and Audrey laughed too--though just for the
+moment she did feel a wee bit uncomfortable, for even the notion of
+Michael falling in love with any woman was not quite pleasant.
+
+'Really, Michael, we must walk faster,' she said, recovering herself,
+'or I shall not have time to dress for dinner.' And then they both
+quickened their footsteps, and no more nonsense was talked about the
+fascinating Mrs. Blake.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+'A GIRL AFTER MY OWN HEART'
+
+     'Be to their virtues very kind,
+     Be to their faults a little blind,
+     And put a padlock on the mind.'
+
+                              ANON.
+
+
+'I will go to the Gray Cottage this afternoon,' was Audrey's first
+thought the next morning when she woke; but she kept this intention to
+herself when Geraldine came in, after breakfast, to beg for some
+favourite recipes of her mother's that she had lost or mislaid. 'And if
+you have nothing better to do,' she said, turning to Audrey, who was
+filling the flower-vases, 'I shall be very glad of your company this
+afternoon, as Percival is going up to London.'
+
+'Shall you be alone, Gage? I mean, are you expecting any special
+visitor?'
+
+'Well, old Mrs. Drayton is driving over to luncheon with that deaf niece
+of hers; but they will go away early--they always do. Come up later,
+Audrey, and bring your work; and perhaps Michael will fetch you--it is
+so long since we have seen him. I will not ask you both to stay to
+dinner, as Percival is always a little tired after a journey to London,
+and a _tete-a-tete_ dinner will suit him better; but we could have a
+long afternoon--you know you refused me yesterday because of the
+O'Briens.'
+
+'I will come up to tea, Gage,' interrupted Audrey somewhat hastily; 'I
+would rather avoid Miss Drayton, and Miss Montague is simply terrible.
+You may expect me about half-past four, and I will give Michael your
+message.'
+
+And Audrey carried off her vase to avoid any more necessary questioning.
+Gage seemed always wanting her now; was it all sisterly affection,
+Audrey wondered, or a clever device to counteract the Blake influence?
+
+'By the bye, mother,' observed Mrs. Harcourt carelessly, as she gathered
+up sundry papers, 'I suppose you will soon be leaving your card on Mrs.
+Blake? Percival thought I had better call with you, and if you are
+disengaged next Tuesday or Wednesday----'
+
+'Why, that is a week hence, my love!'
+
+'Yes, mother dear, I know; but I have so many engagements just now that
+I am obliged to make my plans beforehand. Besides, we could not very
+well call before--you know what a muddle they were in.'
+
+'Yes, I remember; and Audrey helped them so nicely to get straight. Very
+well, we will say Tuesday; and I really am very much obliged to Percival
+for his suggestion, for after all this talk, and the things Edith Bryce
+told you yesterday, I shall be quite nervous in calling alone.' But here
+a significant look from her daughter checked her, and she changed the
+subject rather awkwardly.
+
+'So dear Edith has been talking again,' thought Audrey, as she stepped
+out on the terrace with her empty basket; 'I almost wish I had been at
+Hillside yesterday, and heard things with my own ears.' And then she
+stopped to cut off a dark crimson rose that grew under the schoolroom
+window, and as she did so she became aware that Mr. Blake had put down
+his book and was watching her. She gave him a smile and a nod, and
+walked to the other end of the garden.
+
+'I always forget the schoolroom window,' she said to herself, with a
+slight blush, as she recalled that fixed look; 'Mr. Ollier generally sat
+with his back to the window and took no notice--he was as blind as a
+bat, too--but Mr. Blake is very observant.'
+
+Mrs. Ross had arranged to drive into Dulverton after luncheon with her
+husband. When Audrey had seen them off, and had exchanged a parting joke
+with her father, she started off for the Gray Cottage. Things had
+arranged themselves admirably: she had two hours before Geraldine would
+expect her. Michael had consented to fetch her--Kester was coming to him
+early in the afternoon, and he had also promised to take a class for Dr.
+Ross; he would put in an appearance about half-past five. And Audrey
+professed herself satisfied with this arrangement.
+
+Audrey met Kester on her way to the Cottage. The poor boy was dragging
+himself along rather painfully on his crutches; the heat tried him, he
+said, but he seemed bright and cheerful. Audrey looked pitifully at his
+shabby jacket and old boots; she noticed, too, the frayed edges of his
+wristbands. 'Is it poverty or bad management?' she thought; and then she
+asked Kester how he liked his new tutor. The boy flushed up in a moment.
+
+'Awfully--I like him awfully, Miss Ross, and so does Cyril. You have no
+idea of the trouble he takes with me; I know nothing of mathematics, but
+I mean to learn. Why,' went on Kester, with an important air, 'I am so
+busy now, working up for Cyril and Captain Burnett, that I can hardly
+find time for Mollie's sums and Latin.'
+
+Evidently Kester did not wish to be pitied for his additional labours.
+
+'Poor fellow, how happy he looks!' Audrey said to herself, as she went
+on. 'Michael is doing good work there.' But somehow she could not forget
+those frayed wristbands all the remainder of the day; there was a button
+off his jacket, too--she had noticed the unsightly gap. 'I wish Mrs.
+Blake had a little more method,' she thought; 'Mollie and Kester are
+certainly rather neglected. How could poor Mollie go to chapel in that
+frock?'
+
+Audrey let herself in at the green gate; but this time there was no
+Mollie on the threshold. She rang, and Biddy came hobbling out of the
+kitchen.
+
+'The mistress is in there,' she said, with a jerk of her head towards
+the dining-room, and then she threw open the door. 'Here's Miss Ross,
+mistress,' she said unceremoniously.
+
+Biddy was evidently unaccustomed to parlour work. Mollie, who was sewing
+in the window beside her mother, threw down her work with a delighted
+exclamation, and Zack gave a bark of recognition. Mrs. Blake welcomed
+her very cordially.
+
+'My dear Miss Ross,' she said in her soft, pretty voice, 'we thought you
+had quite forsaken us; poor Mollie has been as restless as possible. I
+cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you again; I was half afraid you
+had disappeared altogether, after the fashion of a benevolent brownie.'
+
+'I have so many friends,' began Audrey; but Mrs. Blake interrupted her:
+
+'There, I told you so, Mollie. I said to this foolish child, when she
+was bemoaning your absence, "You may take my word for it, Mollie, Miss
+Ross has a large circle of friends and acquaintances--it is only to be
+expected in her position--and of course we must not monopolise her;
+especially as we are new-comers and comparative strangers."'
+
+'Mollie thinks differently--don't you, Mollie? We are quite old friends,
+are we not?' and Audrey gave her a kind glance.
+
+How flushed and tired the poor child was looking! but she brightened up
+in a moment.
+
+'Of course we are not strangers,' she returned, quite indignantly;
+'mamma is only saying that because she wishes you to contradict her. Oh,
+Miss Ross,' nestling up to her, 'I have so wanted to see you--I have
+looked out for you every day!'
+
+'I could not possibly come before, dear.'
+
+'No--but now you will stay for a long time? Mamma, won't you ask Miss
+Ross to stay to tea? and Biddy will bake some scones. Biddy will do
+anything for Miss Ross; she said so the other day.'
+
+'My dear child, I could not possibly stay; I am going to have tea with
+my sister--she lives in one of the Hill houses. Another time, Mollie,'
+as a cloud of disappointment passed over Mollie's face; and to divert
+her thoughts she took up the work: 'Why, what pretty stuff! is this for
+your new frock?'
+
+Mollie's brow cleared like magic.
+
+'Yes; is it not lovely? Cyril chose it; he bought it for my last
+birthday, only mamma was too busy to make it up. But both my frocks will
+be done to-night--mamma says she will not go to bed until they are
+finished.'
+
+'Well, and I mean to keep my word,' returned Mrs. Blake good-humouredly;
+'and your new hat will be trimmed, too, and then Cyril will not grumble
+any more about his sister's shabbiness. I have been working like a slave
+ever since I got up this morning, and yet this naughty child pretended
+she was tired because I wanted her to stitch the sleeves.'
+
+'But, mamma, I had to iron all those handkerchiefs for Biddy.'
+
+'Yes, I know--and it was terribly hot in the kitchen; she does look
+tired, does she not, Miss Ross? I have a good idea, Mollie: put down
+that sleeve, and I will finish it myself in a twinkling, and fetch your
+hat and go down to the cricket-field and bring Cyril back with you to
+tea--it will be a nice walk for you.'
+
+'Oh, mamma!' protested Mollie; 'I would so much rather stay here with
+you and Miss Ross, and I don't care about the walk.'
+
+'But if I wish you to go;' and there was a certain inflection in Mrs.
+Blake's soft voice which evidently obliged poor Mollie to obey. She rose
+reluctantly, but there were tears of vexation in her eyes. Audrey felt
+grieved for her favourite, but she was unwilling to interfere; she only
+took the girl's hand and detained her a moment.
+
+'Mrs. Blake, could you spare Mollie to me to-morrow afternoon? I want to
+show her our garden--it is looking so lovely just now.'
+
+'You are very kind,' hesitating slightly; 'but are you sure that it will
+be convenient to Mrs. Ross?'
+
+'My mother has nothing to do with it--Mollie will be my visitor,'
+returned Audrey quietly; and then she continued diplomatically: 'I know
+my mother intends to call on you next week, Mrs. Blake; she and my
+sister were planning it this morning--they are only waiting until you
+are settled.'
+
+Evidently Mrs. Blake was much pleased with this piece of intelligence;
+she coloured slightly, and her manner became more animated.
+
+'That is very kind; I do so long to see Mrs. Ross: Cyril is charmed with
+her, and he thinks Mrs. Harcourt wonderfully handsome. Oh yes, I can
+easily spare Mollie; and her frock and hat will be all ready. Now off
+with you, child,' with laughing peremptoriness; and Mollie only paused
+to kiss her friend and whisper that she was quite happy now, as she
+would have her all to herself the next day.
+
+'Mollie has got to a difficult age,' observed Mrs. Blake, stitching
+rapidly as she spoke; and Audrey again admired the lovely profile and
+finely shaped head; 'she is getting a little self-willed and wants her
+own way. And then she is such a chatterbox; she will hardly let me get
+in a word. Sometimes I like to have my friends to myself; you can
+understand that, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Oh yes, that is easily understood,' returned Audrey, who nevertheless
+missed Mollie.
+
+'I thought I could talk to you more easily without her this afternoon; I
+wanted to speak to you about your cousin--Captain Burnett is your
+cousin, is he not?'
+
+'He is my father's cousin.'
+
+'Ah, well, that is much the same. Is he a pale, slight-looking man with
+a reddish-brown moustache?'
+
+'Certainly that description suits Michael. I think he has such a nice
+face, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'I daresay; he is not handsome, but he looks like a soldier. What keen,
+bright eyes he has! The children have talked about him so much that I
+was quite curious to see him.'
+
+'It is certain that you have seen him; no one else in Rutherford answers
+to that description. It is odd how everyone makes that remark about
+Michael's eyes.'
+
+'Yes, they are a little too searching. I have plenty of courage, but I
+am disposed to feel afraid of Captain Burnett. What I wanted to say,
+Miss Ross, is this--that I am truly grateful to your cousin for his kind
+interest in my poor boy.'
+
+'Do you mean this as a message?'
+
+'That is just as you think proper; but in my opinion he ought to know
+how much Kester's mother appreciates his kindness. When I first heard of
+the plan, I will confess to you honestly, Miss Ross, I was a little bit
+alarmed. Kester did not explain things properly--he would have it that
+Captain Burnett meant to give him lessons here, and I told Cyril that
+would never do. Cyril was a trifle bothered about it himself, until he
+had a talk with Captain Burnett and found out that Kester was to go to
+Woodcote.'
+
+'Oh yes, of course; Michael intended that all along.'
+
+'True, and I ought not to have flurried myself. But if you only knew
+what I went through at Headingly, and the unkind things that people said
+of me! A burnt child dreads the fire, and I was determined that no one
+should have an opportunity of speaking against me at Rutherford. What a
+hard world it is, Miss Ross! Just because I am--well'--with a little
+laugh--'what you call good-looking--why should I deny the truth? I am
+sure I care little about my looks except for Cyril's sake; but just
+because I am not plain, people take advantage of my unprotected
+position. Oh, the things that were said!' with a quick frown of
+annoyance at the recollection. 'I daresay some of them have reached your
+ears. Haven't you heard, for example, that I tried to set my cap at Dr.
+Forester, only his daughter grew alarmed and insulted me so grossly that
+I vowed never to speak to him again? Have you not heard that, Miss
+Ross?'
+
+Audrey was obliged to confess that something of this story had reached
+her.
+
+'But I did not believe it, Mrs. Blake, and I do not believe it now,' she
+continued hastily.
+
+Mrs. Blake's eyes filled with indignant tears.
+
+'It was not true--not a word of it!' she returned in a low vehement
+voice. 'You may ask Cyril. Oh, how angry he was when the report reached
+him! He came home and took me in his arms and said we should not stay
+there--no one should talk against his mother. They did say such horrid
+things against me, Miss Ross; and yet how could I help Dr. Forester
+calling on me sometimes? He was never invited--no one asked him to
+repeat his visits. Mollie will tell you I was barely civil to him. I
+suppose he admired me, that is the truth; and his daughter knew it, and
+it made her bitter. Well, after that, I declared that nothing would
+induce me to receive gentlemen again, unless they were Cyril's friends
+and he brought them himself.'
+
+Audrey was silent. She had been very angry when Geraldine had told her
+the story. She had declared it was a pure fabrication--a piece of
+village gossip.
+
+'Besides, if it were true,' she had continued, 'where is the harm of a
+wealthy widower, with one daughter, falling in love with a good-looking
+widow? And yet Edith Bryce seems to hint darkly at some misconduct on
+Mrs. Blake's part.'
+
+'You are putting it too strongly, dear,' replied her sister. 'Edith only
+said she considered Mrs. Blake rather flippant in manner, and a little
+too gracious to gentlemen----' but Audrey had refused to hear more.
+
+'I was utterly wretched at Headingly,' went on Mrs. Blake, in her sweet,
+plaintive voice; 'and Cyril grew to hate it at last--for my sake. He
+says he is sure it will be different here, and that people are so much
+nicer. I believe he thinks you angelic, Miss Ross, and your mother only
+a degree less so. Only last night he said to me, as we were walking up
+and down in the moonlight, "I am certain you will be happy at
+Rutherford, mother. You have one nice friend already, and----" But,
+there, I had better not repeat my boy's words.'
+
+Audrey felt anxious to change the subject.
+
+'Where did you live before you went to Headingly?' she asked abruptly,
+and Mrs. Blake was clever enough to take her cue.
+
+'We were in lodgings in Richmond,' she answered readily. 'You know we
+were poor, and I was straining every nerve to keep Cyril at Oxford. I
+had been saving up every year for it, but I cannot deny we were sadly
+pinched. I had to send Biddy home for a year or two, and Mollie and
+Kester and I lived in three little rooms, in such a dull street. Cyril
+generally got a holiday engagement for the summer, but when he joined
+us--I procured him a bedroom near us--it used to make him very unhappy
+to see the way we lived. But I always comforted him by reminding him
+that one day he would make a home for us, and that cheered him up.'
+
+'You were certainly very good to him. Some mothers would not have done
+half so much,' observed Audrey.
+
+She was repaid for this little speech, as a smile, almost infantile in
+its sweetness, came to Mrs. Blake's lip.
+
+'I wish Cyril could hear you say that. But he knows--he feels--I have
+done my best for him. Yes, my darling, I have indeed!' She clasped her
+hands and sighed. 'What did a little extra work, a few sacrifices,
+matter, when one looked to the future? We were very straitened--the poor
+children did not always have what they needed--but I don't think we
+were, any of us, unhappy.'
+
+'I can so well understand that. I think people are too much afraid of
+being poor. I could never see, myself, why poverty should hinder
+happiness.'
+
+'Do you not?' looking at her a little curiously; 'but you have not
+served my apprenticeship. You do not know how hard it is for a
+pleasure-loving nature to be deprived of so many sources of
+enjoyment--to have to stint one's taste for pretty things--to be
+perpetually saying "no" to one's self.'
+
+'And yet you own that you were happy.'
+
+'Well, yes, after a fashion. I think the poor children were, until
+Kester got so ill. Mollie and I used to walk about Richmond Park and
+build castles in the air. We planned what we would do if we were rich,
+and sometimes we would amuse ourselves by looking into the shop-windows
+and thinking what we should like to buy--like a couple of gutter
+children--and sometimes, on a winter's evening, we would blow out the
+candles and sit round the fire and tell stories.'
+
+'And then you say Kester fell ill?'
+
+'Well, it was not exactly an illness. But he seemed to dwindle and pine,
+somehow, and Cyril and I got dreadfully anxious about him. I don't think
+Richmond suited him, and I could not give him the comforts he needed;
+and he fretted so about his want of education. He seemed to get better
+directly we went to Headingly and Cyril began to give him lessons.'
+
+'Yes, I see;' and then Audrey took advantage of the pause to look at her
+watch. It was later than she thought, and she rose reluctantly to go.
+Mrs. Blake rose too.
+
+'Don't you think me an odd, unconventional sort of person to tell you
+all this?' she asked a little abruptly. 'Do you know, Cyril often says
+that I make him very anxious, because I am so dreadfully impulsive and
+speak out everything I think; but I made up my mind that afternoon when
+Cyril told me that Mrs. Bryce was a connection of your sister's that I
+would talk to you about the Headingly worries on the first opportunity.'
+
+'I am very glad you have spoken to me; I think it was very brave of
+you.'
+
+'No, my dear Miss Ross, not brave, but cowardly. I was so afraid you
+would be prejudiced against me; and you must know that I have taken a
+great fancy to you. I am a very strange creature: I always like or
+dislike a person at first sight, and I never--perhaps I should say I
+scarcely ever--change my opinion.'
+
+'I think that is a great mistake. It is impossible to read some people
+at first sight.'
+
+'Perhaps so; but you were distinctly legible. When I looked out of my
+window and saw you setting out the little tea-table on the lawn with
+Mollie, I said to myself, "That is a girl after my own heart."'
+
+Audrey laughed; but the little compliment pleased her. Somehow Mrs.
+Blake's manner made everything she said seem charming. Audrey felt more
+and more drawn to this fascinating woman.
+
+'And I want you to come very often, and to be my friend as well as
+Mollie's,' with soft insistence.
+
+'Yes; yours and Mollie's and Kester's,' replied Audrey in an amused
+voice.
+
+'And not Cyril's? My dear Miss Ross, I hope you do not mean to exclude
+Cyril.'
+
+'Oh, of course not,' rather hurriedly. 'But, Mrs. Blake, you must really
+let me go, or Geraldine will be waiting tea; as it is, I shall have to
+walk very fast, to make up for lost time.'
+
+Audrey's thoughts were very busy as she walked swiftly up the Hill.
+
+'I like her--I like her exceedingly,' she said to herself; 'I have never
+met a more interesting person: she is so naive and winning in her
+manner. I feel I shall soon love her; and yet all the time I see her
+faults so plainly. She is terribly unpractical, and manages as badly as
+possible. Edith Bryce was right when she said that. And she is foolish
+with regard to her eldest son--no mother ought to be so partial. I am
+afraid Kester must feel it; all his interests are secondary to his
+brother's. It is hardly fair. And Mollie, too--the child seems a
+perfect drudge. No, my dear woman, I admire you more than I can say,
+and I know I shall very soon get fond of you; but you are not
+blameless.'
+
+And then a curious doubt crept into Audrey's mind: with all her
+impulsiveness, was not Mrs. Blake rather a clever woman, to tell that
+Forester story in her own way? Audrey had already heard a very different
+version. She knew Agatha Forester had lived in deadly terror of the
+charming widow. It was true that she had declined to believe the story,
+and that her sympathies were enlisted on Mrs. Blake's side; but, still,
+was it not rather a clever stratagem on Mrs. Blake's part to secure her
+as an ally? But Audrey dismissed this thought as quickly as it passed
+through her mind.
+
+'Why, what nonsense!' she argued. 'I am accusing Mrs. Blake of being a
+little deep, when she herself owned frankly that she was anxious to
+prejudice me in her favour. Of course she knew Edith Bryce would talk to
+Gage, and it was only wise of her to tell me the truth. People must have
+treated her very badly at Headingly, or her son would not have taken her
+part. He seems to have plenty of common-sense, although he dotes on her.
+They are a wonderfully interesting family, and I seem to know them all
+so well already.' And this last reflection brought her to Hillside.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+MOLLIE GOES TO DEEP-WATER CHINE
+
+     'Well I know what they feel.
+     They gaze, and the evening wind
+     Plays on their faces; they gaze--
+     Airs from the Eden of youth
+     Awake and stir in their soul.'
+
+                         MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Mollie arrived very punctually the next afternoon. Audrey, who was
+watching for her, hardly recognised the girl as she came slowly along
+the terrace. She wore a pretty gray stuff frock and a straw hat, trimmed
+very tastefully with the simplest materials; and her usually unkempt
+locks were neatly arranged in a broad glossy plait that reached to her
+waist.
+
+Audrey felt quite proud of her appearance, and took her into the
+drawing-room to see her mother and sister; for Geraldine had just
+dropped in on her way down the town. Mrs. Ross received her very nicely;
+but Geraldine took very little notice of her. Mollie was rather shy and
+awkward, and answered all Mrs. Ross's questions in monosyllables. She
+seemed so hot and confused that Mrs. Ross's motherly heart took
+compassion on her.
+
+'Do not let us keep you, my dear,' she said, addressing Audrey. 'I am
+sure Geraldine will excuse you; and it is far too fine to stay indoors.'
+
+'In that case, we will go, Mollie,' returned Audrey in a relieved tone.
+'Good-bye, Gage; I daresay I shall see you to-morrow. And, mother, let
+me know when tea is ready;' and then she beckoned Mollie to follow her.
+
+Mollie was no longer silent when she found herself alone with her
+friend.
+
+'Oh dear, Miss Ross, what a grand house you live in, and what a lovely
+garden! Ours must seem such a poor, poky little place after this, and
+yet we were all so pleased with it. I do like Mrs. Ross so; she is such
+a dear old lady'--Audrey had never heard her mother called a 'dear old
+lady' before--'and what a grand-looking person your sister is! I never
+saw anyone so handsome.'
+
+But Mollie's tone was a trifle dubious.
+
+'I hope you mean to like her too, Mollie.'
+
+'I don't seem to know her yet,' replied Mollie evasively; 'but I liked
+looking at her. Somehow I could not talk before her. Where are we going,
+Miss Ross? There is no pond that I can see.'
+
+'No lake,' corrected Audrey, with much dignity. 'No, Mollie; I am going
+to introduce you to the greenhouses and poultry-yard first; then there
+are the pigs, and the boys' play-ground--oh, a host of sights!--before
+we make our way down to the lake.'
+
+'Ah, now you mean to be funny, because Cyril always calls it the
+pond--and Kester too. You must be very rich, Miss Ross, to live here and
+have all these fine things. Mamma was saying so to Cyril when he was
+telling us about it.'
+
+'This is my favourite little bantam, Mollie,' interposed Audrey; and
+then Mollie gave herself up to enjoyment, there were so many things to
+see. Mollie wondered and exclaimed and admired, with flushed cheeks and
+sparkling eyes, until Audrey told herself the child was positively
+pretty.
+
+At last they found themselves by the tiny lake, with their hands full of
+bread for Snowflake and Eiderdown, while a little troop of rare foreign
+ducks hung somewhat timidly in the rear. Presently, to Mollie's intense
+delight, they got into the canoe, and Audrey, with much gravity,
+commenced their voyage.
+
+'For you may laugh, Mollie,' she said severely, 'but you have no idea of
+the extent of the place. This island is called "The Swans' Nest." We
+need not land, because we can see it perfectly from the canoe; but you
+may perhaps notice a small wooden building somewhere in the recesses of
+the island.'
+
+'Oh yes, I see it perfectly,' returned Mollie, with the utmost candour.
+'I could almost cover the island with my pocket-handkerchief; but, of
+course, it is very pretty.'
+
+Audrey gave her a withering glance.
+
+'We will go on a little farther. You have a capital view of Woodcote
+now; the house is in fine perspective. There is Michael's Bench, so
+called after my cousin, Captain Burnett; and this, Mollie'--pointing to
+a pretty little thicket of trees and shrubs reaching down to the
+water--'is Deep-water Chine. With your permission, we will rest here a
+moment.'
+
+'Have we got to the end of our voyage?' laughed Mollie. 'Oh dear, Miss
+Ross, how droll you are this afternoon! But it is pretty--sweetly
+pretty; and how lovely those swans are! How happy you must be to live in
+such a dear place!'
+
+'I am very fond of it,' returned Audrey dreamily. 'Listen to those
+birds; father is so fond of them. You cannot admire the place more than
+I do, Mollie. To me Woodcote is the finest place in the world; it would
+be dreadful to leave it.'
+
+'Why should you ever leave it, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Why, indeed?' with an amused curl of her lip. 'I don't suppose I ever
+shall leave it, Mollie.'
+
+'Not unless you married,' replied Mollie, in a serious voice. 'People
+are obliged to go away when they are married, are they not? But perhaps
+you will have as grand a place of your own.'
+
+'I have half made up my mind that I will be an old maid,' returned
+Audrey lazily. 'Old maids lead such nice, useful, unselfish lives.' And
+then, as Mollie opened her eyes rather widely at this, she went on:
+'What a pretty frock that is!--and that smocking is exquisitely done. I
+really must ask your mother to give me lessons--for it will be useful if
+I ever should have any nephews and nieces,' thought Audrey, who was
+practical in her own way.
+
+'Mamma will be delighted to teach you; she is so fond of you, Miss Ross.
+She was talking about you half the evening. Do you know, she did not go
+to bed until past one o'clock; she was finishing my blue cambric. Cyril
+begged her to put it down half a dozen times, but she said no, she had
+made up her mind to finish it--and the hat, too. He had to go off to bed
+and leave her at last, and it was not really done until past one.'
+
+Audrey made no comment. She was asking herself how far she ought to
+encourage Mollie's childish loquacity--she was very original and
+amusing.
+
+'But if I do not check her,' thought Audrey, 'there is no knowing what
+she may say next. All the Blakes are so very outspoken.'
+
+But Mollie was disposed to enlarge on a topic that interested her so
+closely. She had arrived at an age when a girl begins to feel some
+anxiety to make the best of herself. Her nice new frock was an important
+ingredient in the day's pleasure; she felt a different Mollie from the
+Mollie of yesterday. It was as though Cinderella, dusty and begrimed
+with her ashes, had suddenly donned her princess's robe.
+
+'I am so glad you think my frock pretty,' she went on. 'I shall be able
+to go to chapel with Cyril next Sunday. This is my Sunday frock; my blue
+cambric is for every afternoon. It was very fortunate mamma was in her
+working mood yesterday, for she would never have allowed me to come in
+my old brown frock. She is so busy to-day; she made me bring her down a
+pile of Kester's shirts that want mending--"For the poor boy is in
+rags," she said. Stop! I think it was Cyril who said that. I thought it
+was funny for mamma to notice about Kester. Yes, it was Cyril.'
+
+'Mollie, do you know your mother calls you a sad chatterbox?' observed
+Audrey at this point.
+
+Mollie coloured up and looked perturbed.
+
+'Oh, Miss Ross, did mamma tell you that really? Perhaps that was why she
+wanted to get rid of me yesterday, because I talk so much. Do you
+know'--dropping her voice and looking rather melancholy--'I never do
+seem to please mamma, however much I try; and I do try--oh! so hard. I
+never mind Cyril laughing at me, because he does it so good-naturedly;
+but when mamma speaks in that reproachful voice, and says that at my age
+I might help her more, I do feel so unhappy. I often cry about it when I
+go to bed, and then the next day I am sure to be more stupid, and forget
+things and make mistakes, and then mamma gets more displeased with me
+than ever.'
+
+'My dear little Mollie, I am sure you work hard enough.'
+
+'Yes, but there is so much to do,' returned Mollie, with a heavy sigh.
+'Biddy is so old, she cannot make the beds and sweep and clean and cook
+the dinner without any help. Kester is always saying that if we had a
+younger and stronger servant we should do so much better. But mamma is
+so angry when she hears him say that; she declares nothing will induce
+her to part with Biddy--Biddy used to be mamma's nurse, you know.
+Sometimes I get so tired of doing the same things day after day, and I
+long to go out and play tennis, like other girls. But that is not the
+worst'--and here poor Mollie looked ready to cry; 'do you mind if I tell
+you, Miss Ross? I seem talking so much about myself, and I am so afraid
+of wearying you.'
+
+'No, dear; you may tell me anything you like--about yourself, I mean,'
+corrected Audrey hastily.
+
+'Yes, I know what you mean, and it will make me so comfortable to talk
+it all out--and I have only Kester, you know. I am so afraid, and Kester
+is afraid, too, that with all this rough work I shall never be as
+ladylike as mamma. She has such beautiful manners, and, then, have you
+noticed her hands, Miss Ross? they are so white and pretty; and look at
+mine!' and Mollie thrust out a brown, roughened little hand for
+inspection.
+
+'You have a pretty hand, too, Mollie, though it is not quite soft at
+present; but if I were you, I should be proud to think that it was hard
+with good honest work for others.'
+
+'Yes, if only Cyril would not notice it; he told me one day that no
+young lady ought to have hands like a kitchenmaid. Mamma heard him say
+it, and she begged me to use glycerine and sleep in gloves, but I could
+not do such things. I am afraid you think me very complaining, Miss
+Ross, but I have not got to the worst trouble of all, and that is--that
+I have so little time for my lessons.'
+
+'Oh, I was going to ask you about that.'
+
+'I fret about it dreadfully sometimes, and then Kester is so sorry for
+me. He does all he can for me, poor boy! but sometimes on a hot
+afternoon I am too sleepy and stupid to do my sums and Latin. I don't
+like sums, Miss Ross, or Latin either: I would so much rather read
+French and history with mamma--she reads so beautifully and teaches so
+well--but somehow she is so often too busy or too tired to attend to
+me.'
+
+'And who teaches you music?'
+
+'No one,' and here Mollie's face wore a look of the deepest dejection;
+'we have no piano, and mamma does not play. When we lived at Richmond
+the lady in the drawing-room taught me my notes, and I used to practise
+scales and exercises in her room. She was such a funny old dear, with
+queer little pinned-up curls. Her name was Miss Foster--she had been a
+governess--and she used to be so kind to Kester and me. She would ask us
+into her room, and give us cake and nice things; but I don't think she
+liked mamma--she was always pitying us and calling us "poor children;"
+but I am sure we were very happy.'
+
+'And she gave you music-lessons?'
+
+'Yes, and I got on quite nicely. I am so fond of music, Miss Ross, and
+so is Cyril; he sings beautifully, and can play his own accompaniments.
+He talks of hiring a piano, and then perhaps I can practise my scales
+and exercises.'
+
+Audrey made no answer for a moment--she was deep in thought--and then
+she said suddenly:
+
+'Are you busy all the morning, Mollie? I mean, if you had a piano, when
+would you practise?'
+
+This question seemed to puzzle Mollie.
+
+'I hardly know, Miss Ross--in the morning, I think, when I had done
+helping Biddy. Kester generally wants me for an hour in the afternoon,
+and there is the chance, too, that mamma might call me to read history
+with her. I daresay I could get half an hour or so before
+dinner--luncheon, I mean.'
+
+'Would you like to come to me twice a week for a lesson? Oh, Mollie
+dear, take care!' for the girl was starting up in her excitement; 'the
+water is very deep here, and if you upset us----'
+
+'No, no, I will sit quite still; but I did so want to kiss you--it is
+such a lovely idea!'
+
+'I am so glad you approve of it. I tell you what, Mollie, I will call
+one afternoon and settle it with your mother. The morning will suit me
+best; I generally go out after luncheon, unless we have a tennis-party
+at home; but with a little management I think I could contrive to spare
+you an hour twice a week--perhaps an hour and a half,' finished Audrey,
+whose busy brain had already suggested that a French exercise or half an
+hour's French reading might be thrown in after the music-lesson.
+
+Audrey was a good linguist, and played very nicely; it made her quite
+happy to think that she could turn her accomplishments to account. And
+really the child was so disgracefully neglected--Audrey did not scruple
+a bit to use the word 'disgracefully.' It was strange how all her
+sympathy was enlisted on Mollie's behalf, and yet she could not like
+Mrs. Blake one whit the less for her mismanagement of the girl. On the
+contrary, Audrey only felt her interest quicken with every fresh
+side-light and detail; she longed to take the Blake household under her
+especial protection, to manipulate the existing arrangements, and put
+things on a different footing. Biddy should go--that should be the first
+innovation; a strong, sturdy Rutherford girl like Rhoda Atkinson should
+come in her place. Poor little Mollie should be set free from all but
+the lightest household duties--a little dusting or pastry-making; she
+should have regular hours for practising, for reading French, even for
+drawing. Geraldine was very good-natured, she drew beautifully--Audrey
+was quite sure that after a time she might be pressed into the service.
+Between herself, Gage, and Kester, Mollie might turn out an accomplished
+woman. Dreams, mere dreams, if Mrs. Blake could not be induced to part
+with Biddy; and here the thought of the little work-roughened hands gave
+Audrey a positive pang.
+
+Mollie, on the contrary, sat and beamed at her young benefactress. She
+was that; she was everything perfect in Mollie's eyes. Mollie's cup of
+happiness was full to overflowing! to see her dear Miss Ross twice a
+week, to be taught by her, to study her beloved music; Mollie's heart
+sang for joy: the sunshine seemed to intoxicate her. She was in a new
+world--a world with swans and birds and bees in it--full of leafy
+shadows and rippling, tiny waves. The kind face opposite her broke into
+a smile.
+
+'Well, Mollie, are you tired of sitting here? Shall we go back to the
+landing-place?'
+
+'Miss Ross, there is Cyril looking for us!' exclaimed Mollie, almost
+beside herself with excitement. 'Yes, do please let us go back; he is
+waving to us.' And Audrey paddled across the pond.
+
+Cyril lifted his straw hat rather gravely; but there was restrained
+eagerness in his manner as he helped them to alight.
+
+'Mrs. Ross sent me to fetch you,' he said quietly. 'Tea is ready, and
+Miss Cardell and her brother are in the drawing-room. Mrs. Ross begged
+me to come back with you. Why, Mollie'--with a pleased look--'I should
+hardly have known you. She looks almost grown up, does she not, Miss
+Ross?'
+
+His manner had changed in a moment. He looked bright and animated; his
+slight gravity vanished. It was Audrey who became suddenly embarrassed;
+the eager look with which the young man had greeted her had not been
+unnoticed by her. Cyril's dark eyes were very expressive. More than once
+during the last day or two Audrey had innocently intercepted those
+strange, searching glances, and they vaguely disturbed her.
+
+'It is very good of you to take all this trouble with Mollie,' continued
+Cyril, as he walked beside her towards the house. 'I need not ask if she
+has been happy--eh, Mollie?'
+
+'I have had a lovely time!' exclaimed Mollie, almost treading on Cyril's
+heels in her excitement. 'Oh, Cyril, do ask Miss Ross to take you in the
+canoe to Deep-water Chine! It is such a delicious place! The trees dip
+into the water, and the birds come down to drink and bathe; and we saw
+a water-rat and a water-wagtail, and there was the cuckoo; and we could
+hear the cooing of the wood-pigeons whenever we were silent; and, oh! it
+was paradise!'
+
+'I can believe it,' returned Cyril, in a low voice.
+
+'Mr. Blake,' asked Audrey hastily, 'why is it that you are not on the
+cricket-field with the boys?'
+
+'Conybeare has taken my place. A lot of the boys were kept in, which
+means I was a prisoner too. I have only just opened the gaol-door to the
+poor wretches. If you want to see a heart-breaking sight, Miss Ross--one
+sad enough to touch the stoniest heart--go into the schoolroom on a
+half-holiday on a summer's afternoon when half a dozen boys are kept in
+for lessons returned. The utter misery depicted on those boys' faces is
+not to be described.'
+
+'I should just shut up their books and tell them to be off.'
+
+'I daresay you would,' with an amused look at her. 'I can well imagine
+that that would be Miss Ross's _role_. We masters have to harden our
+hearts; "discipline must be maintained," as that delightful old fellow
+in _Bleak House_ used to say; bad work brings its own punishment.'
+
+'You are as stern as Captain Burnett. By the bye, where is Michael?'
+
+'He has gone out with Dr. Ross. That is why Mrs. Ross wants me to make
+myself useful'--and Cyril did make himself useful.
+
+Some more visitors dropped in, Geraldine amongst them. She had finished
+her business in the town, had paid a couple of calls, and now looked in
+on her way home. Somehow, Woodcote was always on the way home; but,
+then, as everyone said, there were few daughters so devoted to their
+mother as young Mrs. Harcourt.
+
+Audrey, who was presiding at the tea-table, saw her sister looking at
+Mr. Blake with reluctant admiration; she had never before noticed the
+quiet ease of his manners. He had lost his first shyness, and was now
+making himself exceedingly pleasant to Mrs. Ross's guests. Mr. Cardell,
+who was a stiff, solemn-faced young man, was placed at a decided
+disadvantage; clever and gentlemanly as he was, he looked positively
+awkward beside Mr. Blake. Mr. Blake seemed to see everything--to notice
+in a moment if a lady wanted her cup put down, if her tea were not to
+her taste; he carried sugar and cream to one, cake or bread and butter
+to another. He seemed to know by instinct when the teapot wanted
+replenishing, and was ready to lift the heavy kettle; but he never
+remained by Audrey's side a moment.
+
+As Audrey busied herself among her teacups she was amused by overhearing
+a fragment of conversation behind her. Emily Cardell, a plain,
+good-natured sort of girl, had seated herself beside Geraldine.
+
+'Mr. Blake seems a decided acquisition,' she observed, in a loud whisper
+that was distinctly audible. 'We ought all to be very much obliged to
+Dr. Ross. He is very young, but so distinguished-looking. Poor Oliver is
+quite cast in the shade.'
+
+'I don't know about that, Emily.'
+
+'I suppose you think comparisons are odious? But, all the same, I am
+sure you must admire Mr. Blake.'
+
+'I think he is very gentlemanly and pleasant.'
+
+'Dear me, Geraldine! that is very moderate praise. I never saw anyone
+with more finished manners.'
+
+Here Audrey moved away, but her lip curled a little. Would Geraldine's
+tone have been so utterly devoid of enthusiasm if she had not known her
+sister was within earshot?
+
+Just then Mollie touched Audrey on the arm.
+
+'Miss Ross, Cyril says that I have been here long enough, and that he is
+going to take me away.'
+
+'Are you sure that I worded it quite so ungraciously?' observed Cyril,
+who had followed her. 'All the same, I think you will endorse my
+opinion, Miss Ross. Mollie has been here all the afternoon.'
+
+'It has been a very pleasant afternoon,' returned Audrey, with one of
+her kind looks at Mollie; 'and I hope we shall have many more. Mollie
+and I mean to see a good deal of each other.' And then she bade them
+good-bye and turned to the other guests, who were also making their
+adieux.
+
+Geraldine remained behind to exchange a few confidential words with her
+mother, and Audrey stepped out on the terrace. As she did so, she was
+surprised to see Michael sitting just outside the drawing-room window.
+He had evidently been there some time.
+
+As she sat down beside him she was struck by his air of dejection.
+
+'Oh, Michael, how tired you look! have you had your tea?'
+
+He shook his head.
+
+'Then I will go and fetch you some. Do let me, Michael;' for he had
+stopped her.
+
+Michael's hand was very thin and white, but when he cared to put out his
+strength it had a grasp like iron; and that firm, soft grip on Audrey's
+wrist kept her a prisoner.
+
+'No, don't go; it is so late that I would rather wait for dinner. I
+heard the teacups, but I was too lazy to move, and to judge from the
+voices, the room must have been pretty full.'
+
+'Yes; the Cardells and the Fortescues and Gage were there.'
+
+'Mr. Blake, too, was he not?'
+
+'Yes, mother asked him--she wanted him to help entertain the Cardells.'
+
+'Yes, I see; and he seems disposed to be friendly--your father has asked
+him to dinner to-morrow night to meet the Pagets.'
+
+'Indeed!' and Audrey tried to suppress the pleasure she felt at this
+intelligence. 'Have you any objection?' She asked the question in a
+joking manner; to her surprise her cousin answered her quite gravely:
+
+'Well, I think it will be a pity to take too much notice of him--he is
+young enough to be spoilt. People are glad to have a good-looking fellow
+like Blake at their parties; and, then, I hear he has a magnificent
+voice. I expect half the young ladies of Rutherford will be in love with
+him--Miss Emily Cardell among them; eh, Audrey?'
+
+'I am sure I don't know,' returned Audrey coldly; 'Mr. Blake's good
+looks are nothing to me.' She spoke with unusual petulance, as though
+something in her cousin's remarks had not pleased her. 'Well, if you
+will not have some tea, Michael, I must just go back to mother and
+Gage;' and as Michael said no word to detain her, she moved away so
+quickly that she did not hear the half-stifled sigh with which Michael
+took up his paper again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+GERALDINE GIVES HER OPINION
+
+     'We must be as courteous to a man as we are to a picture, which we
+     are willing to give the advantage of a good light.'--EMERSON.
+
+     'She has a most winning manner and a soft voice.'--_The Abbot_.
+
+
+Audrey was able to fulfil her promise to Mollie the very next day, when
+she encountered Mrs. Blake unexpectedly some little way from the town.
+She was just turning down a lane where one of her _protegees_, a little
+lame seamstress, lived, when Zack suddenly bounded round the corner and
+jumped on her, with one of his delighted barks, and the next moment she
+saw a lady in black walking very quickly towards her. She wore a large
+shady hat that completely hid her face, but there was no mistaking that
+graceful figure. Mrs. Blake had a peculiar walk: it was rapid, decided,
+and had a light skimming movement, that reminded Audrey of some bird
+flying very near the ground; and she had a singular habit as she walked
+of turning her head from side to side, as though scanning distant
+objects, which deepened this resemblance.
+
+'What a charming surprise!' she exclaimed, quickening her pace until it
+became a little run; 'who would have thought of meeting you, my dear
+Miss Ross, in this out-of-the-way corner? Some errand of mercy has
+brought you, of course,' with a glance at Audrey's basket. 'That dainty
+little white cloth reminds me of Red Riding Hood; I would wager anything
+that under it there are new-laid eggs and butter. Down, Zack! you are
+sniffing at it just as though you were that wicked wolf himself.'
+
+'I am going to see Rhoda Williams,' returned Audrey; 'she is lame, poor
+girl! and has miserable health besides, but she works beautifully.
+Geraldine and I employ her as much as possible. I suppose you and Zack
+have been having a walk.
+
+'My dear Miss Ross,' with extreme gravity, 'I am not taking an ordinary
+constitutional--I have come out in the hope of preserving my reason. I
+have been enacting a new version of Hood's "Song of the Shirt"; for the
+last two days it has been "Stitch, stitch, stitch,"--how do the words
+run on?--until I was on the brink of delirium. An hour ago I said to
+Mollie: "If you have any love for your mother, carry away that basket
+and hide it; do not let me see it again for twenty-four hours--nature is
+exhausted;" and then I put on my hat, and, at the risk of spoiling my
+complexion, came out into this blessed sunshine.'
+
+Audrey laughed; there was something so droll, so mirth-provoking in Mrs.
+Blake's tone. Any other woman would have said, in a matter-of-fact way:
+'I was tired of work, and so I put on my bonnet;' but Mrs. Blake liked
+to drape her sentences effectively.
+
+'It is very fortunate that we have met,' returned Audrey, when she had
+finished her laugh, 'for I want to ask you a great favour;' and she
+detailed her little scheme for Mollie.
+
+Mrs. Blake was evidently surprised, but she testified her gratitude in
+her usual impulsive way.
+
+'How good, how kind of you, my dear Miss Ross! Indeed, I do not know how
+to thank you; no one has ever taken so much notice of my poor Mollie
+before, except that droll old creature Miss Foster; but she could not
+bear me--a compliment I reciprocated; so we always quarrelled when we
+met.'
+
+'And you will spare Mollie to me for an hour or so twice a week?'
+
+'Will I not! Do you suppose I am such an unnatural mother that I could
+refuse such a generous offer? I really am ashamed to tell you, Miss
+Ross, that I do not know a note of music. When I was a girl I was very
+perverse, and refused to learn, because I said I had no ear; but in
+reality I hated the trouble of all those scales and exercises. Of course
+I am sorry for it now: Cyril is so musical, and has such a delightful
+voice, and even poor little Mollie has picked up her notes as cleverly
+as possible.'
+
+'I am so glad you have not refused me. I am sure I shall enjoy teaching
+Mollie. I think we had better begin as soon as possible. Let me see:
+this is Friday; will you ask her to come to me on Monday morning? I will
+be ready for her by half-past eleven.'
+
+'Thank you a thousand times! I will certainly give her your message.
+What a blessing that new cambric is finished! Cyril will be so pleased
+when I tell him about your kindness. He worries dreadfully about Mollie
+sometimes: he says her education is so desultory; but I tell him he
+cannot alter his mother's nature. I never was methodical; it drives me
+crazy to do things by rule. Mollie sometimes says to me: "Mamma, I do so
+wish I had a fixed hour for lessons, that I knew exactly when you could
+read with me;" and my invariable answer is, "Good gracious, Mollie!
+don't you know me by this time? am I that sort of person?" I wish for my
+children's sake that I were different; but they must just put up with me
+as I am. You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.'
+
+'My dear Mrs. Blake, what an odd comparison!'
+
+'Oh, it just came into my head, you know; it is rather strong, but it is
+very expressive. By the bye, I was going to ask you something. Have you
+any idea on which day your mother and sister intend to call on me?'
+
+'I believe Geraldine said Tuesday or Wednesday; I really forget
+which--Wednesday, I think.'
+
+'But it might be Tuesday. Thanks. I would not willingly be out, so I
+will keep in those two days. Now, I positively must not keep you
+standing under this hedge any longer; but I feel all the better for this
+nice little talk.' And after a few more parting words Mrs. Blake went on
+her way, and Audrey unlocked the gate of Mrs. Williams' cottage.
+
+The short interview with Mrs. Blake had been satisfactory; her request
+had been granted without demur or difficulty. Mrs. Blake had shown
+herself in a sensible light. Audrey's benevolence had now a new object;
+she would spare no pains or trouble with this poor neglected child. To
+meditate fresh acts of kindness always stirred Audrey's pulses as though
+she had imbibed new wine. Her sympathetic temperament felt warmed,
+vivified, exhilarated, as she stooped to enter the low room where Rhoda
+Williams was expecting her.
+
+Audrey looked forward rather anxiously to her mother and Geraldine's
+visit. She watched them set out with secret perturbation. They were to
+call at one or two places besides, but Mrs. Ross assured her very
+seriously that they would be back to tea; and as Geraldine seemed to
+consider this as a matter of course, Audrey got over her own business as
+soon as possible, so as to be back at Woodcote at the same time.
+
+Michael had gone up to town for two or three days, and was not expected
+home until Monday. Dr. Ross rarely made his appearance in his wife's
+drawing-room until late in the evening, and, as no casual visitors
+dropped in, Audrey would be able to cross-examine them to her heart's
+content. But she knew her mother well enough to be sure that no
+questions would be needed. Even if Geraldine were inclined to be
+reserved, to keep her opinions for her husband's ear, Mrs. Ross would be
+sure to discourse very readily on her own and Geraldine's doings.
+
+'Well, my dear,' she said in her cheery way, as she entered the room,
+'here we are, as punctual as possible, and quite ready for a nice cup of
+tea. Of course Mrs. Fortescue was out--she always is--and Mrs. Cardell
+was just going out, so we would not detain her; and Mrs. Charrington had
+her room full of visitors, so we would not stay long there.'
+
+'Of course, as Lady Mountjoy was there, no one else had a chance of
+getting a word with Mrs. Charrington,' observed Geraldine, with rather a
+discontented air.
+
+'My love, I am sure Mrs. Charrington was as nice as possible to you; you
+know what a favourite you are with her. But a person like Lady Mountjoy
+is always so embarrassing to a hostess. She is so very big, Audrey, and
+seems to take up so much more room than other people; and, then, she is
+such a talker!'
+
+'So she is, mother. I don't wonder poor Mrs. Charrington found herself
+unable to talk to Gage.'
+
+'No; so we did not stay long. What was the use? Well, my dear, I daresay
+you wonder how we got on at the Gray Cottage? We had a very pleasant
+visit, on the whole--an exceedingly pleasant visit.'
+
+Audrey's face brightened; this was better than she expected.
+
+'Mrs. Blake was in. I think, from her manner, that she was expecting
+us.'
+
+'Yes; certainly we were expected,' put in Geraldine, in rather a decided
+voice.
+
+'She was in the drawing-room, and everything was as nice as possible;
+and the old servant is very respectable-looking. Mrs. Blake was doing
+some lovely embroidery in a frame. How exquisitely she works, Audrey!
+and she selects her own shades, too. That dear little Mollie was reading
+to her--French history, I think. They did look so comfortable! You are
+certainly right, my dear: Mrs. Blake is a most charming woman; she has
+very taking manners, and is altogether so bright and expressive.'
+
+'She is certainly very handsome,' observed Geraldine--'a most
+striking-looking person, as Edith says. Mother and I agreed that her son
+is very like her; but, for my own part, I prefer Mr. Blake's quiet
+manners.'
+
+'But you like her, Gage?' and Audrey looked a little anxiously at her
+sister.
+
+'I am not quite sure,' was the cautious answer. 'Mother liked her; but,
+then, mother likes everyone. She was friendly and pleasant--pointedly
+so; but, in my opinion, she is too impulsive, too outspoken altogether.
+It is not quite good form. A grown-up person should have more reticence.
+To me, Mrs. Blake is wanting in dignity.'
+
+'I think you are rather severe on her, Gage. You and Mrs. Blake are very
+different people.'
+
+'You need not tell me that. Mrs. Blake and I are at the antipodes as far
+as temperament and sympathy are concerned. You are very impulsive
+yourself, Audrey, and often speak without thought; but I do not think
+you are quite so outspoken as Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'Well, perhaps not.'
+
+'It was so unnecessary for her to tell mother, for example, that she was
+too poor to indulge her social tastes, and that she hoped her Rutherford
+neighbours would be very sparing of their invitations. It was not as
+though we had led up to it. Nothing of the sort had been said to prompt
+such an extraordinary statement. I am sure Percival would have called
+that bad form.'
+
+'How I do hate that expression!' exclaimed Audrey, rather pettishly. She
+thought Geraldine more than usually trying this afternoon.
+
+'Still, I am sure you would have agreed with me that it was most
+uncalled for. Mother was quite taken aback for a moment. She told me so
+afterwards--did you not, mother?'
+
+'Yes, dear; and, of course, it put me in a difficult position. I am sure
+I do not know what we were talking about, Audrey. I think I was saying
+something about Rutherford being a sociable little place.'
+
+'Yes; and then she interrupted you, mother, and said, in an abrupt sort
+of way, that its sociability would matter very little to her, for,
+dearly as she loved gaiety, she could not afford to indulge in it. "So I
+hope no kind neighbours will ask me to dinner, or to any kind of evening
+entertainment, for I should be obliged to refuse." Now, do you call that
+quite in good taste, Audrey?'
+
+'I think that it was, at any rate, very honest. I can see none of that
+pretentiousness that Edith Bryce led us to expect.'
+
+'I don't know,' rather doubtfully. 'Mrs. Blake is certainly not a humble
+person; she thinks a great deal of herself. At times her manner was
+almost patronising. She talks a great deal too much about her son. Of
+course she has a right to be proud of him; but it was a pity to be quite
+so gushing.'
+
+'It is useless to talk to you, Gage,' returned Audrey impatiently.
+'Edith Bryce has prejudiced you too much. You are judging Mrs. Blake
+very unfairly.'
+
+'I hope not. I do not wish to be unfair to anyone; but I must own that I
+am sorry that you have such an infatuation for her.'
+
+'I don't know about that; but I am certainly very much interested in the
+whole family.'
+
+'Yes; and I could not help observing to mother that I thought it a great
+pity. They evidently look upon you as a close friend. It was "dear Miss
+Ross" every minute from one or other of them.'
+
+'Audrey has been so good to them, you see,' returned Mrs. Ross, whose
+soft heart had been much touched by her daughter's praises. 'I am quite
+sure, Geraldine, that Mrs. Blake meant every word she said; there were
+tears in her eyes once when she mentioned how unused they were to such
+kindness. Audrey, my dear, I have asked Mrs. Blake to waive ceremony and
+come to us on Monday, and I assure you she was quite pleased. She said
+it was such a treat to her to watch tennis, and that she loved to see
+her son play. And now, of course, we must ask Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Oh yes, I suppose so.' Audrey spoke with studied indifference. 'It is a
+pity you are engaged'--turning to her sister--'for we shall have quite a
+large party.'
+
+'Yes, I am thoroughly vexed about it,' returned Geraldine, 'for Mrs.
+Charrington is coming too. I wish Mrs. Sheppard would not always fix
+Monday;' and then, after a little more talk about the arrangements for
+the tennis-party, she took her leave--Audrey, as usual, accompanying her
+to the gate.
+
+'I suppose Michael will be back for it?' was her parting question.
+
+Audrey supposed so too, but she was not quite certain of Michael's
+movements. He had said something about his intention of coming back on
+Monday, but he might alter his mind before that. Michael had not seemed
+quite like himself the day before he went to town; she was sure
+something had harassed him. Geraldine hoped fervently that this was not
+the case; she never liked dear old Michael to be troubled about
+anything. And then the two sisters kissed each other very
+affectionately. Audrey always forgave Geraldine her little vexing
+proprieties and tiresome habit of managing everyone when she felt her
+loving kiss on her cheek.
+
+'After all, there are only we two,' she thought, as she walked back to
+the house. 'I must not magnify Gage's little faults, for she is a dear
+woman.'
+
+And Geraldine's thoughts were quite as affectionate.
+
+'I hope I have not vexed her too much about this new _protegee_ of
+hers,' she said to herself, 'but one cannot pretend to like a person.
+Audrey is a darling, and I would not hurt her for the world. After all,
+she is a much better Christian than I am;' and then she had a long,
+comfortable talk with her husband, in which she indemnified herself for
+any previous restraint.
+
+'It is so nice to be able to tell you everything, Percy dear!' she
+exclaimed, as the dressing gong warned her to close the conversation.
+
+'That is the good of having a husband,' he replied, as he put his books
+together and prepared to follow her.
+
+Michael did not return in time for the tennis-party, but Audrey could
+only give him a regretful thought--so many people were coming that her
+hands were quite full. She was busy until luncheon time, and Geraldine
+good-naturedly came down from Hillside to offer her help, and had to
+submit to an anxious lecture from her mother on her imprudence in coming
+out in the heat. Audrey had scarcely time to change her dress before the
+first guest arrived. Mrs. Blake came early; her son was still engaged
+with his scholastic duties, and would make his appearance later; but he
+had not allowed her to wait for him. Audrey saw her coming through the
+gate, and went at once to meet her.
+
+'Well, Miss Ross, I am making my debut,' she said gaily; 'have I come
+too early? Do tell me which is the schoolroom window; I want to know
+where my boy sits; he said he should look out for me.'
+
+Audrey suggested rather gravely that they should walk along the terrace:
+her mother was on the lawn with Mrs. Charrington. She thought Mrs. Blake
+looked exceedingly nice in her thin black dress and little close bonnet;
+nothing could be simpler, and perhaps nothing would have suited her
+half so well. Audrey felt sure that everyone would admire her; and she
+was right. Mrs. Charrington fell in love with her at first sight, and to
+Audrey's great amusement her father paid her the most marked attention.
+
+'My dear, do tell me who that lady in black is,' inquired Gertrude
+Fortescue, catching hold of Audrey's arm; 'she is perfectly lovely. What
+magnificent hair she has, and what a sweet smile! Papa is talking to her
+now, and Mrs. Charrington is on her other side.'
+
+'Oh, that is Mrs. Blake--you know her son, Gertrude.'
+
+'Mr. Blake's mother! why, she looks quite young enough to be his sister.
+I wish you would introduce me, Audrey; I have quite lost my heart to
+her.'
+
+'I have brought you another admirer, Mrs. Blake,' observed Audrey
+mischievously, while Gertrude Fortescue turned red and looked foolish.
+Mrs. Blake received the young lady with one of her charming smiles.
+
+'Everyone is so kind,' she murmured; 'I am having such a happy
+afternoon, Miss Ross. I won't tell you what I think of Dr. Ross--I
+positively dare not; and Mrs. Charrington, too, has been as nice as
+possible.'
+
+'And now Gertrude means to be nice, too,' returned Audrey brightly.
+'Good-bye for the present; I have to play with Mr. Blake, and he is
+waiting for me;' and she hurried away.
+
+What a successful afternoon it was! Mrs. Blake was certainly making her
+mark among the Rutherford people; no one in their senses could have
+found fault with her manners. She was perfectly good-humoured and at her
+ease; she had a pleasant word and smile for everybody.
+
+'One would have imagined that all these strangers would have made her
+nervous,' thought Audrey; but it needed a close observer to detect any
+mark of uneasiness in Mrs. Blake's voice or manner. Now and then there
+might be a slight flush, an involuntary movement of the well-gloved
+hands, a quick start or turn of the head, if anyone suddenly addressed
+her; but no one would have noticed these little symptoms.
+
+'Your mother seems to be enjoying herself,' observed Audrey, as she
+joined Cyril and they walked across the lawn together.
+
+'Yes,' he returned, with a pleased look; 'she is quite happy.'
+
+'Let us sit where we can see my son and Miss Ross play!' exclaimed Mrs.
+Blake, rising as she spoke. 'Look! there are chairs on that side of the
+lawn. What a well-matched couple they are!--both play so well. Miss Ross
+is not as handsome as her sister--Mrs. Harcourt is an exceedingly fine
+young woman, and one seldom sees such a complexion in the present
+day--but, in my humble opinion, Miss Ross is far more charming.'
+
+'Do you think so? We are all very fond of Geraldine, and--oh yes, Audrey
+is very nice too,' returned Miss Fortescue a little absently. She was
+considered handsome herself, and it struck her with some degree of
+wonderment that the afternoon was half over and Mr. Blake had not asked
+her to play tennis.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+'I AM SORRY YOU ASKED THE QUESTION'
+
+     'Thou must not be hurt at a well-meaning friend, though he shake
+     thee somewhat roughly by the shoulder to awake thee.'
+
+                                               _Quentin Durward._
+
+
+Half an hour later Audrey had finished her game, and had resisted all
+her partner's pleadings to give their opponents their revenge. She might
+feel tempted--Mr. Blake played so splendidly--but she knew her duty to
+her guests better than that.
+
+'You must get another partner,' she said, with something of her sister's
+decision. 'Here is Miss Fortescue; she has been sitting out a long time,
+and she is a very good player. Gertrude'--raising her voice--'Mr. Blake
+wants a partner. I am sure you will take pity on him.' And in this
+manner Gertrude obtained her wish.
+
+Perhaps she would rather have had her desire gratified in a different
+manner--if Mr. Blake had asked her himself, for example. She was not
+quite pleased at the tone in which he professed himself delighted to
+play with Miss Fortescue; he fetched her racket a little reluctantly,
+when Audrey pointed it out, and there was certainly no enthusiasm
+visible in his manner as he suggested that Miss Cardell and her partner
+were waiting for them.
+
+'Do you know where my mother and Miss Ross have gone?' he asked, as they
+took their place.
+
+'Mrs. Blake asked Miss Ross to show her the pond. They are waiting for
+you to serve, Mr. Blake;' and then Cyril did consent to throw himself
+into the game. Miss Fortescue was a good-looking girl, and played well,
+but she was not Miss Ross; nevertheless, Cyril had no intention of
+accepting a beating, and he was soon playing as brilliantly as ever.
+
+Meanwhile, Mrs. Blake was talking after her usual rapid fashion.
+
+'What beautiful grounds! and so tastefully laid out, too. I have never
+seen such a garden. I do love this succession of terraces, and those
+trees with white leaves just striped with pink--what do you call them,
+Miss Ross?'
+
+Audrey told her they were white maple.
+
+'Dear me! Did Dr. Ross plant them? They do look so well against that
+dark background of trees. Everything is in such perfect taste and order,
+and Cyril says it is the same in the house. The Bryces' establishment
+was not half so well regulated. He declares Dr. Ross has a master-mind,
+and, now I have talked to him, I am quite sure Cyril is right.'
+
+'You must not expect me to contradict you. I think there is no one like
+my father.'
+
+'I daresay not. He is charming--positively charming! So this is the pond
+Kester and Mollie rave about? What a sweet little place--so still and so
+retired! But of course you can see the house from it. Is not that your
+cousin, Captain Burnett?'--as they came in sight of the bench. 'It is
+very much like him.'
+
+'Yes, of course it is Michael!' and Audrey quickened her steps in
+surprise. 'My dear Michael, when did you get back? No one knows of your
+arrival.'
+
+'I daresay not,' he returned somewhat gravely, as he shook hands with
+her and bowed to Mrs. Blake. 'I only got in half an hour ago, and,
+having no mind to mingle with the crowd, I sat here to get cool.'
+
+'Have you had some tea, Michael?'
+
+'Oh yes; Parker brought me some. Never mind me. How have you been
+getting on?' looking at her attentively.
+
+'Oh, very well.' But Audrey blushed a little uneasily under that kind
+look. 'Mrs. Blake, I believe you have not met my cousin before?'
+
+'I think we have met, Audrey.'
+
+'To be sure we have!' responded Mrs. Blake, with her brightest smile. 'I
+am so glad of this opportunity of speaking to you, Captain Burnett. I
+hope Miss Ross gave you my message?'
+
+'I don't believe I have had any message--have I, Audrey?' And Audrey
+laughed a little guiltily; she did not always remember people's
+messages.
+
+Mrs. Blake shook her head at her.
+
+'Oh, you traitress!' she exclaimed playfully. 'And I thought you, of all
+people, were to be trusted. Captain Burnett, I must give my own message.
+I want to thank you for your kindness to my poor boy.'
+
+'He is not poor at all,' he replied lightly; but his keen blue eyes
+seemed to take the measure, mental and physical, of the graceful-looking
+woman before him. 'He is a very clever fellow, and will make his mark. I
+can assure you I quite envy him his brains.'
+
+'It makes me so proud to hear you say that. I often wonder why my
+children are so clever; their father'--she checked herself, and then
+went on in a more subdued key--'my poor husband had only average
+talents, and as for me----' She left her sentence unfinished in a most
+expressive way.
+
+'Mollie says you are clever too, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'My dear Miss Ross, then Mollie--bless her little heart!--is wrong. Is
+it my fault if those foolish children choose to swear by their mother?
+Cleverness does not consist in chattering a little French and
+Italian--does it, Captain Burnett? You and I know better than that, and
+it will always be a lasting wonder to me why I have a son like my
+Cyril.'
+
+'You have two sons, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+Something indefinable in Michael's tone made Mrs. Blake redden for a
+moment; then she recovered herself.
+
+'Yes, thank God! I have; but a widow's eldest son is always her prop.
+Kester is a mere boy; he cannot help his mother much yet.'
+
+'Kester is nearly sixteen, and will soon be a man; he is already very
+thoughtful for his age. I am sure you will permit me to say that I
+already take great interest in him; he has a wonderful thirst for
+knowledge. I showed one of his translations to Dr. Ross, and he was
+quite struck by it. You know, Dr. Ross is a fine Greek scholar.'
+
+Mrs. Blake seemed much impressed; she was evidently taken aback. She was
+generally so absorbed in her eldest son that she failed to give Kester
+his due. The boy was shy and retiring with her; very likely he felt
+himself unappreciated. Anyhow, it was certain that he sought sympathy
+from everyone but his mother; and yet, in her own way, she was kind to
+him.
+
+Audrey was a little disappointed to find Michael so grave in his manner
+to her charming friend--for such she already considered Mrs. Blake.
+Michael was generally so nice and genial with people; he did not seem in
+the least aware that he was talking to a pretty woman. In Audrey's
+opinion, he seemed disposed to pick holes in Mrs. Blake's words and to
+find matter for argument. Not that this would be apparent to anyone but
+herself; but then she knew Michael so well. She could always tell in a
+moment if he approved or disapproved of anyone. One thing was clear
+enough to her, that Mrs. Blake was not at her ease. She lost her gay
+fluency, and hesitated for a word now and then; and when they left the
+lake and walked towards the tennis-ground, and Cyril intercepted them,
+she gave him an appealing look to draw him to her side. But for once
+Cyril was blind to his mother's wishes. He shook hands with Captain
+Burnett, and then fell behind to speak to Audrey.
+
+'Do you mean to say that you have finished your game already?' she
+asked, in some surprise.
+
+'No, indeed; only Mrs. Fortescue discovered that it was late, and took
+her daughter away, and, of course, I could not beat them
+single-handed--Wheeler is a crack player--so we made up our mind to
+consider it a drawn game. You ought not to have thrown me over, Miss
+Ross,' dropping his voice; 'it was hardly kind, was it?'
+
+'Would you have me play with you and neglect all my other guests?' she
+returned, smiling. 'I think you owe me some gratitude for providing you
+with a partner like Gertrude Fortescue. She is one of our best players.'
+
+'I would rather have kept the partner I had,' he replied, with unwonted
+obstinacy; 'even in tennis one prefers one's own selection. I played the
+first set far better.'
+
+'I believe you are a little cross with me, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'I!' startled by this accusation, although it was playfully made, and
+reddening to his temples; 'I have no right to take such a liberty. No
+man in his senses could be cross with you for a moment.'
+
+'You are wrong. Michael is often cross with me.'
+
+'Is he?' slackening his pace, and so compelling her to do the same,
+until there were several yards between them and the couple in front.
+'Captain Burnett seems to me far too good-natured; I should have said
+there was not a spark of temper about him. I am rather hasty myself.'
+
+'I am so glad you have warned me in time, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Why, do you meditate any special provocation?' Then, catching sight of
+her dimple, his own face relaxed. 'I see you are laughing at me. I am
+afraid I was not properly gracious to Miss Fortescue. I will make up for
+it on Thursday at the Charringtons', and ask her to play. You will be
+there?' with a note of anxiety in his voice.
+
+'Oh yes; I shall be there, of course.'
+
+'We must have one set together; you will promise me that?' and Cyril's
+dark eyes looked full into hers.
+
+'Yes, certainly.' But Audrey blushed a little. She felt a sudden desire
+to hurry after the others; but her companion evidently held a different
+opinion.
+
+'Do you know Mrs. Charrington has asked my mother to come too?'
+
+'No, indeed; but I am so glad to hear it.'
+
+'She was most kind about it: she has promised to call on her to-morrow.
+My mother is so pleased. Does she not look happy, Miss Ross? She is so
+fond of this sort of thing--a dull life never suits her. She nearly
+moped herself to death at Headingly; we were all uncomfortable there.'
+
+'I think she will get on with the Rutherford people.'
+
+'Indeed I hope so. Miss Ross, do you know, I am so vexed about something
+my mother said the other afternoon, when Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Harcourt
+were calling on her.' And as Audrey looked mystified, he went on slowly:
+'She actually told them that she would accept no evening engagements,
+and that she hoped no one would invite her to dinner.'
+
+'Oh yes, I remember.'
+
+'I am afraid they must have thought it very strange. I tell my mother
+that she is far too frank and outspoken for our civilised age, and that
+there is not the slightest need to flaunt our poverty in our neighbours'
+faces.'
+
+Cyril spoke with an air of unmistakable annoyance, and Audrey
+good-naturedly hastened to soothe him. Her fine instinct told her that
+his stronger and more reticent nature must often be wounded by his
+mother's indiscreet tongue.
+
+'I am afraid you are a little worldly-minded, Mr. Blake. I consider your
+mother was far more honest.'
+
+'Thank you,' in a low tone; 'but all the same,' returning to his usual
+manner, 'it was premature and absurd to make such a statement. My mother
+has to do as I like,' throwing back his handsome head with a sort of
+wilfulness that Audrey thought very becoming, 'and I intend her to go
+out. Miss Ross, I am going to ask you a very odd question, but there is
+no other lady to whom I can put such an inquiry. Does it cost so very
+much--I mean, how much does it cost--for a lady to be properly dressed
+for the evening?'
+
+Audrey did not dare to laugh, Cyril was so evidently in earnest; her
+nice tact guarded her from making such a grievous mistake.
+
+'Your question is a little vague, Mr. Blake; I hardly know what I am to
+understand by it. Do you mean evening dress for one dinner-party or a
+succession of dinner-parties? You know they are perpetual in Rutherford;
+every house invites every other house to dinner. In Rutherford we are
+terribly given to dining out.'
+
+'Oh, I see; and relays of gowns would be required,' returned Cyril in a
+dejected voice. 'I am afraid I must give it up, then. My mother would
+certainly not be able to afford that for the present.'
+
+'But when one wears black, a change of dress is not so necessary,'
+interrupted Audrey eagerly. 'If I were poor, I should not allow poverty
+to debar me from the society of my fellow-creatures, just because I
+could not make as great a display as other people. No, indeed; I would
+not be the slave of my clothes.'
+
+'I can believe that,' with an admiring glance.
+
+'I would have one good black dress--and it should be as nice as my means
+would allow--and I would wear it everywhere, and I would not care a bit
+if people looked as though they recognised it. "You are noticing my
+gown!" I would say to them. "Yes, it is an old friend. Old friends are
+better than new, and I mean to cling to mine. By and by, when I am a
+little richer, I will buy another."'
+
+'Miss Ross, if my mother could but hear you!'
+
+'Tell her what I say, and bid her do the same. Black suits her so
+perfectly, too.'
+
+'Oh, she never means to wear anything else but black,' he returned
+gravely.
+
+'Let her get a soft silk--a Surah, for example--and if it be made
+prettily and in the newest fashion, it will look well for a long time.
+Yes'--reflectively--'Mrs. Blake would look well in Surah.'
+
+'Would she? Do you mind telling me how to spell it?' and Cyril produced
+his pocket-book.
+
+'S-u-r-a-h.'
+
+'Thank you a thousand times, Miss Ross! And about the cost--would five
+pounds do?' looking at her anxiously.
+
+'Oh yes, I should say that would do,' replied Audrey, who in reality
+knew very little about it.
+
+Mr. Blake would have done better to have consulted Geraldine, she
+thought. Geraldine would have told him the price to a fraction of a
+shilling; she would have directed him to the best shop for making an
+excellent bargain. Geraldine had a genius for these practical things,
+whereas she--Audrey--was liable to make mistakes.
+
+'I am sure five pounds will do,' she repeated, by way of encouragement;
+and again Cyril thanked her fervently.
+
+There was no more opportunity for carrying on this interesting
+discussion, for the others were now standing quite still in the
+shrubbery walk, waiting for them to join them.
+
+'My dearest boy, everyone has gone!' exclaimed Mrs. Blake, in a tone of
+dismay. 'The tennis-lawn is empty!'
+
+'What does that matter?' replied Audrey, hastening up to her with a
+heightened colour, as she noticed a quick, observant look on Michael's
+part. 'We have no rule for our Mondays; people come when they like, and
+stay as long as they like.'
+
+'But, still, to be the last to go, and this my first visit to Woodcote!'
+rejoined Mrs. Blake uneasily. 'Cyril, you ought to have taken me away
+long ago.'
+
+'We will make our adieux now,' he returned carelessly, and not at all
+affected by his mother's discomposure. 'Come, mother, I see Mrs. Ross
+standing in the drawing-room window; she is evidently waiting for us.'
+And Cyril drew his mother's hand through his arm.
+
+Audrey and Michael followed them to the gate. Mrs. Blake kissed Audrey
+with some effusion. Audrey, who, in spite of her large heart and wide
+sympathies, was not a demonstrative person, would willingly have
+dispensed with this little attention before the gentlemen. Mrs. Blake
+had never offered to embrace her before. She had an idea, too, that
+Cyril was not quite pleased.
+
+'Come, come, mother,' he said impatiently, 'we are detaining Miss Ross;'
+and he hurried her away.
+
+Audrey would have returned to the house at once, but Michael asked her
+to take another turn in the shrubbery.
+
+'For I have not seen you for a whole week,' he grumbled; 'and it is
+hardly possible to get a word with you now.'
+
+'Well, you have me now,' she returned with assumed gaiety; but all the
+time she wanted to be alone and think what Mr. Blake's parting look
+meant. 'It was so--so----' Audrey could not quite find the word. 'And
+now, Michael, I am ready.' Audrey was going to say, 'I am ready to hear
+your opinion of Mrs. Blake;' but just at that moment she saw her father
+coming to meet them.
+
+Two is company, but three is none, as both Michael and Audrey felt at
+that moment. Dr. Ross, on the contrary, joined them with the air of a
+man who knows himself to be an acquisition. He tucked his daughter's
+hand under his arm, and began questioning Michael about his week in
+town.
+
+As it happened, Michael had seen and done a good deal, and Audrey was
+soon interested in what he had to tell them. She knew all Michael's
+friends by name, and in this way could claim acquaintance with a large
+circle. She was soon busily questioning him in her turn. Had he seen
+that pretty little Mrs. Maddox? and was the baby christened? and who was
+the second godfather? and so on, until the gong warned them to disperse.
+
+The conversation at dinner ran on the same topics, but just before they
+rose from the table Mrs. Ross asked Michael if he did not admire Mrs.
+Blake.
+
+'Very much, indeed,' he returned, without a moment's hesitation. 'She
+has three very excellent points for a woman: she is pretty, lively, and
+amusing. I had quite a long talk with her.' And then he changed the
+subject--whether intentionally or unintentionally Audrey could not
+tell--and began telling them about a picture one of his friends was
+painting for the next Exhibition.
+
+Michael was very much engaged the next few days. He had told Kester to
+come to him every morning that week, to make up for the lessons he had
+lost, and as a succession of garden-parties occupied Audrey's
+afternoons, she did not find time for one of those confidential chats
+with Michael which they both so much enjoyed. When Thursday came Michael
+escorted her to the Charringtons' garden-party. Mrs. Ross and her
+husband were to come later.
+
+Audrey was amongst the tennis-players, but, as she passed to and fro
+with her various partners, she saw Michael more than once talking to
+Mrs. Blake. The first time he gave her a nod and a smile, but when she
+passed them again he seemed too much engrossed with Mrs. Blake's lively
+conversation to notice her.
+
+Audrey had just finished her second game with Mr. Blake, and he was
+taking her to the house in search of refreshments. As Audrey ate her
+strawberries, she wondered a little over Michael's abstraction.
+
+'He certainly seems to admire her,' she said to herself.
+
+Michael and she were to dine at Hillside that evening, and as they
+walked home together in the summer moonlight Audrey bethought herself at
+last of asking that question.
+
+'Michael, I want you to tell me what you think of Mrs. Blake? I am quite
+sure you like her very much indeed.'
+
+'You are wrong, then. I wonder what put such a notion in your
+head--because I was talking to her so much this afternoon? That was more
+her fault than mine. No, Audrey; I am sorry to say it, but I do not like
+Mrs. Blake at all.'
+
+'Michael!' and Audrey stood still in the road. This was a shock indeed!
+She was prepared for criticism: Michael always criticised her friends;
+he felt it a part of his duty; but this utter disapprobation was so
+unexpected; it was crushing--absolutely crushing! Michael, too, whose
+opinion she trusted so entirely! 'Oh, I hope you don't mean it--that you
+are only joking,' she said, so earnestly that he felt a little sorry for
+his abruptness; but it was too late to retract; besides, Michael never
+retracted.
+
+'I am sorry you asked me the question; but I am bound to tell you the
+truth, you know.'
+
+'And is it really the truth?' she asked a little piteously. 'It is very
+soon for you to have made up your mind that you do not like her; why,
+you have only spoken to her twice.'
+
+'Yes; but I have had plenty of time to form my opinion of her. Look
+here, Audrey, you must not be vexed with me. I would not have found
+fault with your fair friend if you had not asked my opinion. Of course I
+admire her; one has seldom seen a prettier woman, and her style is so
+uncommon, too.'
+
+'Don't, Michael; you will be praising her hair and complexion next, as
+Gertrude Fortescue did the other afternoon. It is the woman, Mrs. Blake
+herself, I want you to like.'
+
+'Ah, just so!'
+
+'And now I am so disappointed. Somehow I never enjoy my friends quite so
+much if you do not care for them. I thought we always liked the same
+people, but now----' Here Audrey stopped. She felt vexed and mortified;
+she did want Michael to share her interest in the Blakes.
+
+'And now you will look on me as a broken reed; but, after all, I am not
+so bad. I like Kester--he is a fine fellow; and I like your little
+friend Mollie--she is true as steel; and,' after a moment's pause, 'I
+like Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Are you quite sure of that, Michael?'
+
+'Yes, I am quite sure of it. If I know anything of human nature, Mr.
+Blake is worthy of my esteem: as far as any man is good, he is good. And
+then he has such splendid capabilities.'
+
+Audrey felt vaguely that this was generous on Michael's part; and yet
+she could not have told herself why it was generous. If she had had an
+idea of the truth! But as yet she was only dimly conscious of the
+nobility of Michael's nature.
+
+'Mr. Blake is clever,' he continued, 'but he does not think much of
+himself; it is rare to find such modesty in a young man of the present
+day. Still, he is very young; one can hardly tell what he may become.'
+
+'Father says he is three-and-twenty, Michael.'
+
+'Still, Audrey, a man's character is not always fully developed at
+three-and-twenty; at that age I was a conceited cub. I am
+seven-and-thirty now, and I feel my opinions are as settled as Dr.
+Ross's are.'
+
+'I wish you would not always talk as though you were father's
+contemporary; it is so absurd, Michael, when everyone else thinks you a
+young man!'
+
+'I am a very old young man,' he returned with a whimsical smile; 'I have
+aged prematurely, and my wisdom has developed at the same rapid rate.
+Amongst my other gifts I have that of second-sight.'
+
+'Indeed!' with incredulous scorn. 'You are not very humble in your own
+estimation.'
+
+'My dear, old young men are never humble. Well, my gift of second-sight
+has put me up to a thing or two. Do you know,' turning away and
+switching the hedgerows carelessly as he spoke, 'I should be very sorry
+if any girl in whom I took a deep interest were to be thrown too much
+into Mr. Blake's company.'
+
+Audrey faced round on her cousin in extreme surprise.
+
+'You are very incomprehensible to-night, Michael: at one moment you
+praise Mr. Blake, and say nice things about him, and the next minute you
+are warning people against becoming intimate with him--that is surely
+very inconsistent.'
+
+'Oh, there is method in my madness,' he returned quietly. 'I have
+nothing to say against the young man himself. As far as I can tell,
+there is no harm in him; but he is so young, and is such a devoted son,
+that he is likely to be influenced by his mother.'
+
+'And it is on her account that you would dislike any such intimacy? Oh,
+Michael,' very sorrowfully, 'I had no idea you would dislike her so!'
+
+'It seems rather unreasonable--such a pretty woman, too. On the whole, I
+think I do like talking to her, she is so amusing. But, Audrey, I must
+say one thing: you are always talking about her frankness. Now, I do not
+agree with you.'
+
+'I don't understand you, Michael. I have never known anyone so
+outspoken.'
+
+'Outspoken--yes. Well, I will explain myself. You are frank, Audrey; you
+hide nothing, because there is nothing to hide; and if there were, you
+would not hide it. Now, Mrs. Blake has her reserves; with all her
+impulsiveness, she has thorough self-command, and would never say a word
+more than suited her own purposes. It is her pleasure to indulge in a
+wild, picturesque sort of talk; it is effective, and pleases people; and
+Mrs. Blake, in common with other pretty women, likes to please. There is
+no positive harm in it--perhaps not, but it detracts from reality.'
+
+'But, Michael, I like to please people too.'
+
+'Certainly you do. Have I not often called you a little hypocrite for
+pretending to like what other people like! How often have we fallen out
+on that point! But you and Mrs. Blake are very different people, my
+dear; with all your faults, your friends would not wish to see you
+changed.'
+
+But the dark shade of the shrubbery walk they were just entering hid the
+strangely tender look that was in Michael's eyes as he said the last
+words.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+MRS. BLAKE HAS HER NEW GOWN
+
+     'Thou art a girl of noble nature's crowning:
+     A smile of thine is like an act of grace;
+     Thou hast no noisome looks, no pretty frowning,
+     Like daily beauties of a vulgar race.
+     When thou dost smile, a light is on thy face,
+     A clear, cool kindliness, a lunar beam
+     Of peaceful radiance, silvering o'er the stream
+     Of human thought with beauteous glory,
+     Not quite a waking truth, nor quite a dream:
+     A visitation--bright though transitory.'
+
+                                HARTLEY COLERIDGE.
+
+
+Audrey was much disappointed by the result of her conversation with her
+cousin. It was true that Michael had tried to efface the severity of his
+own words by remarking that a third interview might somewhat alter his
+opinion of the fascinating widow--that he might even grow to like her in
+time. Audrey knew better. Michael had a certain genius of intuition; he
+made up his mind about people at once, and she had never known him to
+reverse his decision. As far as regarded the younger members of the
+Blake family, they would still be able to work happily together. Michael
+was certainly much interested in Kester; he had adopted him in the same
+manner as she had adopted Mollie. It was a comfort also that he approved
+of Mr. Blake. Michael had spoken of him with decided approval, and
+without any stint or limit of praise; nevertheless she was well aware
+that Michael would willingly have restricted their intimacy, and that he
+saw with some reluctance her father's growing partiality for the young
+master.
+
+Audrey had only spoken the simple truth when she owned that Michael's
+approval was necessary to her perfect enjoyment of her friend. She might
+still maintain her own opinions of Mrs. Blake. Nevertheless, the first
+fine flavour of her pleasure had been destroyed by Michael's severe
+criticism; the delicate bloom had been impaired. She would hold fast to
+her new friend; she would even be kinder to her, as though to make up
+for other people's hard speeches; but much of her enthusiasm must be
+locked in her own breast.
+
+'What is the use of talking on a subject on which we should only
+disagree?' she said to him a week or two afterwards, when he had rebuked
+her playfully for not telling him something. 'It was only a trifling
+matter connected with Mrs. Blake.'
+
+And when he heard that, Michael held his peace. He had been thrown
+constantly into Mrs. Blake's company since their first meeting, but as
+yet he had not seen fit to change his opinions.
+
+But in spite of this little rift in her perfect harmony, Audrey
+thoroughly enjoyed the next month; she was almost sorry that the
+vacation was so near. It had been a very gay month. Relays of
+visitors--distant relations or mere friends--had been invited to
+Woodcote and Hillside. Mrs. Ross's garden-party had rivalled Mrs.
+Charrington's, and there had been a succession of picnics, driving
+parties, and small select dinners at all the Hill houses. But in spite
+of her many engagements--her afternoons on the cricket-field, the tennis
+tournament, in which she and Cyril Blake won, and various other
+gaieties--Audrey had not neglected Mollie. Twice a week she devoted an
+hour and a half to her pupil. When the music-lesson was over, Audrey
+would read French with her or correct her exercises. She was a very
+conscientious mistress, and would not allow Mollie to waste any of her
+time in idle gossip. When she was putting away her books, Mollie's
+voluble tongue would make amends for the enforced silence.
+
+'Oh, Miss Ross,' she exclaimed one day, 'do you know, Cyril has given
+mamma such a beautiful present! You will never guess what it is!'
+
+Audrey prudently refrained from any guesses; besides, she was still
+correcting Mollie's translation.
+
+'It is a black silk dress--a real beauty, as mamma says. She has
+borrowed Miss Marshall's last copy of the Queen, and she means to make
+it up herself. Mamma is so clever! It is to have a long train; at least,
+a moderately long train, and an open bodice--open in front, you
+know--with tulle folds. Oh, I forget exactly; but mamma explained it to
+me so nicely!'
+
+'It was very kind of your brother,' observed Audrey gravely.
+
+For once Mollie was not checked.
+
+'Yes; isn't he a darling for thinking of it? He went to Attenborough
+himself and chose it, and mamma thought he was on the cricket-field all
+the time. He got her a pair of long gloves, too. Cyril always thinks of
+everything. Mamma cried when she opened the parcel, she was so pleased;
+and then Cyril laughed at her. The worst of it is'--and here Mollie's
+face lengthened a little--'Kester will have to wait for his new suit,
+and the poor boy is so shabby! Cyril went up to his room to tell him so;
+because his leg was so painful, he had gone to bed early. Of course,
+Kester said he did not mind a bit, and he would much rather that mamma
+had her new gown and could go out and enjoy herself; but, all the same,
+it is a little hard for Kester, is it not?'
+
+'I don't think boys care about their clothes quite so much as girls do.'
+
+'Oh, but Kester does; he is almost as particular as Cyril. He does love
+to have everything nice, and I know he is ashamed of that old jacket. He
+has outgrown it, too, and the sleeves are so short; and now he is so
+much with Captain Burnett, he feels it all the more. Oh, do you know,
+Miss Ross'--interrupting herself--'Captain Burnett is going to drive
+Kester to Brail in his dogcart!'
+
+'That will be very nice. But, Mollie, you really must leave off
+chattering; you have translated this sentence quite wrongly. This is not
+one bit the sense.' And Mollie did at last consent to hold her tongue.
+
+Audrey took her mother into her confidence that afternoon as they were
+dining together, and told her the whole story about the black silk
+dress. Mrs. Ross was much interested.
+
+'How very nice of him!' she said, in just the sympathetic tone that
+Audrey expected to hear. 'I said from the first that I liked Mr. Blake;
+I told your father so. He is a good son. I am not a bit surprised that
+his mother dotes on him. I am sure I should if he were my son;' and Mrs.
+Ross heaved a gentle little sigh under her lace mantle.
+
+She knew her husband had ardently desired a son, and, until Michael's
+troubles had made him almost an inmate of the house, there had been a
+certain void and unfulfilled longing in Dr. Ross's breast. Not that he
+ever spoke of such things; but his wife knew him so well.
+
+'Perhaps one day he will have a grandson,' she thought; for her motherly
+imagination loved to stretch itself into the future.
+
+'Don't you think we might ask Mrs. Blake to dinner next week, when your
+cousin Rose is here?' she observed presently. 'Rosie will be charmed
+with her; and we could get the Cardells to meet her, and perhaps the
+Vicar and Mrs. Boyle. You know they have not been to dine with us for a
+long time.'
+
+'Very well, mother. I have not the slightest objection,' returned
+Audrey, who had in fact been leading up to this. 'I suppose you will ask
+Gage too?'
+
+'Oh, of course!' for Mrs. Ross never considered any party complete
+without the presence of her eldest daughter. 'We must find out which day
+will suit her best.'
+
+'I do not believe Percival will let her come,' returned Audrey calmly.
+'He says she is going out too much, and tiring herself dreadfully. I
+heard him tell her that he meant to be more strict with her for the
+future.'
+
+'Dear Percival, how good he is to her! I always told your father that he
+would make her an excellent husband. Your father was not a bit
+enthusiastic at first--he liked Percival, and thought him an exceedingly
+able man; but he never did think anyone good enough for his girls. You
+will find him hard to please when your turn comes, Audrey.'
+
+'My turn will be long in coming,' she replied lightly. 'Well, if
+Percival prove himself a tyrant, whom do you mean to have in Gage's
+place?' And then they resumed the subject of the dinner-party.
+
+Things turned out as Audrey predicted: Mr. Harcourt would not allow his
+wife to accept her mother's invitation.
+
+'She has been over-exerting herself, and must keep quiet,' he said to
+his mother-in-law when he next saw her at Hillside. 'I tell her that
+unless she is prudent, and takes things more quietly, she will not be
+fit for her journey to Scotland--and then all our plans will be upset.'
+
+For a charming arrangement had been made for the summer vacation. Dr.
+Ross had taken a cottage in the Highlands for his family, and Mr.
+Harcourt had secured a smaller one, about half a mile off, for himself
+and his wife. Michael was to form part of the Ross household, and during
+the last week or two he and Audrey had been putting their heads together
+over a benevolent scheme for taking Kester. There was a spare room in
+their cottage, and Mrs. Ross had asked Audrey if she would like one of
+her cousins to accompany them. Audrey had hesitated for the moment.
+Mollie had been in her thoughts, but when she had hinted at this to
+Michael, he had said somewhat decidedly that, in his opinion, Kester
+ought to be the one to have the treat.
+
+'He would be company for me, too,' he added, 'when you and your father
+go on your fishing expeditions. And he will not be a bad third, either,
+when you honour us with your company.'
+
+Audrey had a great wish to take Mollie. She thought how the girl would
+enjoy those long rambles across the purple moors, but she was open to
+reason: as Michael had pointed out to her, Kester certainly needed the
+change more than Mollie. It would be good for Michael to have a
+companion when she and her father and Percival went on one of their long
+expeditions. The boy had been drooping sadly of late--the heat tried
+him--and, as Audrey knew, Biddy's homely dishes seldom tempted his
+sickly appetite.
+
+Mr. Harcourt was not aware of this little plan. When he uttered his
+marital protest Geraldine looked at her mother with a sort of resigned
+despair.
+
+'You hear what Percy says, mother. I suppose you must ask someone else
+in my place.'
+
+'But I am not going without you,' returned her husband good-naturedly.
+'Your mother would not want me, my dear, under those circumstances. We
+will stay at home, like Darby and Joan, by our own ingle-side.'
+
+'Oh, then you can ask the Drummonds,' went on Geraldine, in a relieved
+voice. 'Audrey ought to have reminded you of them, but she seems to
+think only of the Blakes. I suppose you will be obliged to ask Mr.
+Blake, too, mother?'
+
+'Yes, certainly, my dear. Mrs. Blake would not like to come without her
+son. It will be a large party, but----'
+
+'Well, it cannot be helped, I suppose; but Percy and I think it is
+rather a pity----' Here Geraldine gave a slight cough, warned by a look
+from her husband.
+
+'What is a pity, my dear?'
+
+'Oh, it does not matter--at least, Percy does not wish me to speak.'
+
+'Geraldine is rather like the dog in the manger,' interrupted Mr.
+Harcourt. 'Because I will not let her come to your dinner-party, she
+would rather you did not have one at all. That is it, isn't it, Jerry?'
+
+Mrs. Ross smiled benevolently at this little sally. She liked to hear
+her son-in-law's jokes. She never joked Geraldine herself, and so she
+seldom saw that girlish blush that was so becoming.
+
+When she had taken her leave, Geraldine said to her husband:
+
+'Why did you stop me just now when I was dropping that hint about Mr.
+Blake?'
+
+'Because I thought the hint premature, my dear,' he returned drily, 'and
+because it is not our place to warn Mr. Blake off the premises; he is
+not the first young man, and I do not expect he will be the last, to
+admire Audrey.'
+
+'But, Percy, I am quite sure that Mr. Blake is too handsome and too
+attractive altogether to be a harmless admirer.'
+
+'Pooh! nonsense, my love. Don't let your imagination run away with you.
+Audrey is too sensible a girl to let herself fall in love with a young
+fellow like Blake. Now shall I go on with our book?' For that day
+Geraldine was considered an invalid, and as her husband thought fit to
+indulge and make much of her, she was not so sure she disliked her
+passing indisposition, any more than Mr. Harcourt disliked playing Darby
+to his handsome Joan.
+
+The dinner-party passed off well, and Mrs. Blake looked so lovely in her
+new gown that she made quite a sensation, and the Vicar observed to his
+wife afterwards 'that she was the nicest and most agreeable woman he had
+met for a long time.'
+
+Mrs. Boyle received this eulogium a little coldly. She was a fat, dumpy
+little person, with a round, good-natured face that had once been
+pretty. 'Bernard might admire Mrs. Blake,' she said to herself,--'she
+was the sort of woman men always raved about; but for her part she was
+not sure she admired her style,' but she had the rare magnanimity to
+keep her opinions to herself. Mrs. Boyle never contradicted her husband
+after the peevish manner of some wives.
+
+The term was drawing to a close now, and Mollie's face lengthened a
+little every day. Audrey had mooted the scheme to her father during a
+walk they had together, and Dr. Ross, who was one of the most benevolent
+and kindly of men, had at once given his consent, and had promised to
+speak to Michael, who carried it through with a high hand.
+
+Great was the rejoicing in the Blake household. Poor Kester had turned
+red and white by turns, and could hardly speak a word, so intense was
+his surprise; but Audrey, who saw the lad's agony of embarrassment,
+assured him that there was no need for him to speak, and that everything
+was settled.
+
+Cyril was almost as embarrassed when he came in to thank them that
+evening.
+
+'I have never heard of such kindness in my life,' he said eagerly, when
+he found Audrey alone; for the others were all in the garden, as she
+told him. 'I will go to them directly. Of course I must speak to Captain
+Burnett. I hear it is his thought. Am I interrupting you?' looking at
+her open desk. 'May I stay a moment?'
+
+'Certainly, if you like.'
+
+But Audrey did not resume her seat. She stood by the lamp, its crimson
+shade casting ruddy gleams over her white dress. She had coiled her hair
+loosely--Audrey was given to dressing herself hurriedly--and one long
+plait had become unfastened. It looked so smooth and brown against her
+white neck. At such moments Audrey certainly looked pretty. Perhaps
+Cyril thought so, for he looked at her long and earnestly.
+
+'I hardly know how to thank you all,' he went on almost abruptly. 'My
+mother feels the same. It is such a weight off my mind. You know, I am
+going to Cornwall myself; one of our Keble men has invited me. His
+father has a nice place near Truro.'
+
+'That will be a pleasant change for you,' she observed sympathetically.
+
+'Oh, I always turn up trumps,' he replied brightly. 'Last Christmas, and
+again at Easter, I had heaps of invitations. I was only bothering myself
+about Kester: he looked so seedy, you know, and it seemed such hard
+lines for him, poor boy! to see me go off and enjoy myself.'
+
+'Well, you see, Kester means to enjoy himself too.'
+
+'Don't I know that? He is a lucky fellow!' and Cyril sighed--a good
+honest sigh it was, too, for Audrey heard it. 'Just fancy seven weeks in
+paradise!'
+
+'Well, it is very lovely there,' she answered demurely; and then she
+discovered the stray lock, and pinned it up hastily.
+
+'Oh, I was not meaning the place--though, of course, everyone knows
+Braemar has its advantages. I think one's happiness depends more on the
+society one has. Don't you think so too, Miss Ross?'
+
+'I daresay you are right. Well, we shall have my sister and her husband,
+and Kester and Captain Burnett; so we shall be a nice party.'
+
+'Oh yes, of course Captain Burnett is going?' returned Cyril, in a
+dubious tone.
+
+'Yes; and I suppose you think he is lucky too?' and there was a gleam of
+fun in Audrey's eyes.
+
+'Not more so than usual; the gate of paradise is never shut on Captain
+Burnett.'
+
+But though Cyril laughed as he made this little speech, there was no
+expression of mirth in his eyes. But Audrey chose to consider it a joke.
+
+'If you talk in this manner, I shall think you envy Kester his treat.'
+
+'I am afraid I do envy him, Miss Ross. If Kester and I could only change
+places----'
+
+He checked himself as though he had said too much, and turned to the
+window.
+
+'You will find them all on the circular bench,' she said, sitting down
+to her desk again. 'When I have finished my letter I will join you.' And
+Cyril took the hint.
+
+'I wish he would not say such things; but, of course, he is only
+joking,' thought Audrey. But in her heart she knew he was not joking.
+Could she be ignorant that on all possible occasions Mr. Blake followed
+her like a shadow--a very quiet, unobtrusive shadow; but, nevertheless,
+he seemed always near. Could she be blind to the wistful looks that
+seemed to watch her on all occasions, and that interpreted her every
+wish? Perhaps no one else noticed them--Audrey fervently hoped
+not--unless it were his mother. And here Audrey reddened at the
+remembrance of certain vague hints and innuendoes that had latterly made
+her uncomfortable, and hindered her from going to the Gray Cottage.
+
+'Perhaps I am too friendly with him. I do not check him sufficiently,'
+she thought. 'But he has never said such things before. He ought not; I
+must not allow it. What would Gage or Michael say? Dear old Michael! how
+excited he is about our Scotch trip! He says he shall be so pleased to
+have my undivided attention again. I wonder, have I been less nice to
+Michael lately? He has certainly seemed more dull than usual. I will
+make up for it--I will indeed! Michael shall never be dull if I can help
+it, I mean to devote myself to him.' And then Audrey took up her pen
+with a sigh. Was she really glad the term was so nearly over? It had
+been such a nice summer. Of course she would enjoy Scotland, with all
+her own people round her, and there would be Kester. Kester would write
+to his brother sometimes, and, of course, there would be letters in
+reply. That would be pleasant. Oh yes, everything was delightful! And
+with this final thought Audrey set herself resolutely to work, and
+finished her letter just in time to see Cyril take his leave. He had
+waited for her with the utmost impatience, but when Mrs. Ross complained
+of chilliness, and proposed to return to the house, he had no excuse for
+lingering any longer, and Michael, with some alacrity, had accompanied
+him to the gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+MOLLIE LETS THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG
+
+     'Nothing is true but love, nor aught of worth;
+     Love is the incense which doth sweeten earth.'
+
+                                           TRENCH.
+
+
+'Oh dear, Miss Ross, what shall I do without you for seven whole weeks?'
+was Mollie's piteous lament one morning. Audrey was on her knees packing
+a huge travelling box, and Mollie, seated on the edge of a chair, was
+regarding her with round, melancholy eyes. It was the first day of the
+vacation, and Rutherford looked as empty and deserted as some forsaken
+city. Utter silence reigned in the lower school, from which the fifty
+boys had departed; and Mrs. Draper, the matron, had uttered more than
+once her usual formula of parting benediction as the last urchin drove
+off: 'There, bless them! they are all packed off, bag and baggage, thank
+Heaven! and not a missing collar or sock among them'--an ejaculation
+that Michael once declared was a homely Te Deum, sacred and peculiar to
+the race of Rutherford matrons.
+
+Audrey straightened herself when she heard Mollie's plaintive lament.
+
+'Now, Mollie, I thought you promised me that you would make yourself as
+happy as possible.'
+
+'I said I would try,' returned Mollie, her eyes filling with tears; 'but
+how can I help missing you? I do mean to do my very best--I do indeed,
+Miss Ross.'
+
+'Come, that is bravely said. I know it is hard upon you, my dear, taking
+Kester away.' But Mollie would not let her finish her sentence.
+
+'Oh no; you must not say that. I am so glad for Kester to go. Do you
+know, he is so pleased and excited that he can hardly sleep when he goes
+to bed; and he wakes in the night to think about it. I do believe he
+loves Captain Burnett as much as I love you; he is always talking about
+him. After all'--here Mollie dried her eyes--'it is not so bad for me as
+it is for mamma: she is always wretched without Cyril; you can't think
+how restless and unlike herself she is when he is away from her; she
+spends half her time writing to him or reading his letters. Cyril always
+writes such nice long letters.'
+
+'And Kester and I will write to you; you will be glad of letters, too,
+Mollie.'
+
+Evidently this charming idea had not occurred to Mollie, for she darted
+from her place and gave Audrey a grateful hug.
+
+'Do you mean it? will you really write to me? Oh, you dear thing! how I
+do love you!' with another hug. 'But you must not tire yourself, you
+know, or Kester either; they need not be long letters, but just nice
+little notes, that won't trouble you.'
+
+'Oh, we will see about that,' returned Audrey, smiling. She was touched
+by this thoughtfulness; it was so like Mollie's sweet unselfishness: she
+never did seem to think of herself. 'You have no idea how quickly the
+time will pass. Think of all the things you have promised to do for me!'
+for Audrey had already made all sorts of nice little plans for her
+favourite. Mollie was to have the run of the house and grounds; she was
+to bring her mother to sit in the garden every afternoon if she
+liked--Mrs. Blake would enjoy it; she was so fond of flowers--and Mollie
+could amuse herself with the canoe. Then there was Audrey's piano:
+Mollie must promise to practise her scales and exercises on it every
+day; and there was a pile of delightfully interesting books set apart
+for her use. She must see, too, that her pet bullfinch was not
+neglected, and that her flowers were watered; for Audrey had a pretty
+sitting-room of her own. Molly soon cheered up as Audrey recapitulated
+these privileges; she was young enough to be soon consoled. She readily
+agreed with Audrey that her mother would enjoy wandering about the
+Woodcote gardens; they would bring their books and work, and sit under
+the trees on fine afternoons.
+
+'Cyril has been making mamma promise to begin Roman history with me,'
+continued Mollie; 'he was so shocked when he found out I knew nothing
+about Romulus and Remus. Was it quite true about the wolf, Miss Ross? I
+thought it sounded like a fable. Oh, do you know,' interrupting herself
+eagerly, 'I want to tell you something--Kester said I might if I liked:
+he has got two new suits of clothes.'
+
+Audrey left off packing, and looked at Mollie in some surprise.
+
+'Did you say two suits, my dear?'
+
+'Yes. Is it not nice, Miss Ross? But Cyril said he positively could not
+do with less than two--a rough suit for every day, and a better one for
+Sundays. I don't think Kester ever had two whole suits before. Mamma was
+pleased, but she thought it a little extravagant of Cyril. And he bought
+him boots and ties, oh, and other things beside!'
+
+'How very good of him!' and Audrey felt a warm glow of pleasure. She
+longed to question Mollie, but she prudently forebore: it was no
+business of hers if Mr. Blake chose to get into debt; for where could he
+have got the money? But her curiosity was soon to be satisfied; Mollie
+was dying to tell the whole story.
+
+'You would say so if you knew all,' she returned, with a mysterious air;
+'mamma does not know yet. I am afraid when she finds out she will be
+terribly vexed: she does so hate Cyril to go without things. I think she
+would almost rather let Kester be shabby than see Cyril without----Oh, I
+was just going to bring it out!'
+
+Audrey took no notice. She was folding a dress, and the sleeves were
+giving her some trouble.
+
+'Kester never said I was not to tell,' went on Mollie, as though arguing
+with herself. 'I don't know why I stopped just now. Miss Ross, have you
+ever noticed what a beautiful watch and chain Cyril wears?'
+
+This was too much for Audrey.
+
+'You don't mean to say that your brother has sold his watch?' she asked,
+so abruptly that Mollie stared at her.
+
+'No, not his watch; he could not do without one; but he said the chain
+did not matter--a steel guard would answer the purpose quite as well.
+But it was such a lovely chain, and he was so proud of it! An old
+gentleman, General Fawcett, gave them to him. He was very grateful to
+Cyril for saving his grandson's life--Cyril jumped into the river, you
+know--and then the General, who was very rich, sent him the watch and
+chain, with such a beautiful letter. When Cyril saw them he was almost
+ashamed to accept them, he said they must have cost so much.'
+
+'What a pity to part with such a gift!' murmured Audrey, busying herself
+over another dress.
+
+'Yes; but, you see, Cyril had so little money, not half enough to pay
+for all Kester wanted--and he had bought that silk dress, too. Mamma
+would have had him get the clothes on credit, but Cyril has such a
+horror of debt. At first he would not let us know anything about it--he
+took Kester to the shop and had him fitted--but at last he was obliged
+to tell, because Kester missed Cyril's gold Albert chain. Kester looked
+ready to cry when he heard it was sold. He did think it such a pity, and
+he knew mamma would be so vexed. But Cyril only laughed at us both, and
+said he did not care about jewellery--he would be very much ashamed if
+Kester went to Scotland in his shabby old clothes; and then he begged us
+both to say nothing to mamma unless she missed the chain--she will not
+yet, because Cyril has sent his watch to be cleaned.'
+
+'Mollie, I am really afraid that you ought not to have told me this,'
+returned Audrey gravely; but there was a wonderful brightness in her
+eyes, as though the story pleased her. 'I think you ought to have kept
+your brother's secret.'
+
+'But he never said it was a secret, except from mamma,' pleaded Mollie
+in self-defence; 'and I wanted you to know, because it was so dear of
+Cyril. But he is just like that; he will do anything for Kester.'
+
+'But, all the same, I hope you will not tell anyone else;' and as Mollie
+looked disturbed at this, she went on: 'it will be quite safe with me,
+you know. People so often tell me their little secrets, and your brother
+need not know that you have told me.
+
+'Why, do you think he will mind? Oh no, Miss Ross! I am sure you are
+wrong about that. I was talking to him one evening about you, and I
+remember I said that I could not help telling you things, because you
+were so nice and kind; and Cyril answered, quite seriously, "You could
+never have a better friend than Miss Ross. You will learn nothing but
+good from her--tell her all you like. There is no one of whom I think
+more highly." And then he kissed me quite affectionately.'
+
+'But all the same, Mollie, I think you had better not let him know that
+you have told me--I mean it would only embarrass him;' and here Audrey
+got up in a hurry and went to her wardrobe for something she had
+forgotten, and when she came back, it was to remind Mollie of the
+lateness of the hour.
+
+'But this is not good-bye, you know. We shall stop at the Gray Cottage
+to-morrow morning, to pick up Kester and his portmanteau.' And then,
+with some little difficulty, she dismissed Mollie.
+
+Audrey intended to pay a parting visit to her friend, Mr. O'Brien, that
+evening. Dr. Ross and Michael had gone up to London for the day, and had
+arranged to sleep in town, and Mr. Harcourt would escort the ladies and
+look after their luggage until they joined them.
+
+Audrey had arranged with her mother that an informal meal should be
+served in the place of the ordinary late dinner, and that even this
+should be postponed until nine. It was impossible to walk to Brail in
+the heat of the afternoon--the weather was sultry, even at Rutherford,
+and Audrey proposed not to start until after an early tea.
+
+When she was ready she went in search of Booty, who had been left under
+her guardianship. She knew exactly where she should find him--lying on
+Michael's bed. Booty was always a spectacle of woe during his master's
+brief absences. At the sound of a footstep or an opening door below, his
+short legs would be heard pattering downstairs; there would be an eager
+search in every room, then, with a whine of disappointment and a
+heart-broken expression in his brown eyes, Booty would slink back again
+to Michael's room to lie on his pillow, or mount guard over some
+relic--a tie, a glove, or even an old shoe--something that he could
+identify as his master's property.
+
+Audrey was the only one who could comfort Booty for the loss of that
+loved presence; but even with her, Booty was still a most unhappy dog.
+He plucked up a little spirit, however, at the sight of her hat, and
+jumped off the bed. His master was clearly not in the house; perhaps the
+road his temporary mistress meant to take would lead to him--even a dog
+wearies of moping, and Booty's short legs needed their usual exercise.
+He followed her, therefore, without reluctance, and even lapped a little
+water out of his special dish; but there was no joyous bark, no
+unrestrained gambols, as he trotted after her with his soft eyes looking
+out for that worshipped form that was to Booty the one aim and object of
+life, for whose special delectation and delight he had been created.
+Mrs. Ross always said it made her quite miserable to see Booty when
+Michael was away, and, indeed, Michael never dared to leave him for many
+days together. If anything had happened to his master the little animal
+would have pined and fretted himself to death.
+
+'I suppose no one will ever love me as that creature does,' Michael once
+observed to Audrey; 'he has simply no will or life of his own. What a
+faithful friend a dog is! I believe Booty understands me better than
+most people. We have long conversations together sometimes--I talk, and
+Booty answers by signs.'
+
+Audrey enjoyed her walk, but she was afraid Booty was tired and would
+need a long rest. When they reached Vineyard Cottage she found Mrs.
+Baxter mending stockings in the porch.
+
+'Father has gone out for a little stroll, Miss Ross,' she said, rising,
+with her usual subdued smile. 'He will be back directly. Will you come
+into the parlour and rest?'
+
+'I would rather stay here,' returned Audrey. 'I am so fond of this
+pretty old porch, and this bench is so comfortable. Booty is tired, Mrs.
+Baxter; he has been fretting because his master chose to go up to London
+to-day, and his low spirits have made him languid. Look at him when I
+say Michael--there!' as the dog started and sat up eagerly; 'he knows
+his name, you see.'
+
+'Poor thing! He is as intelligent as a Christian--more intelligent than
+some Christians I know. The ways of Providence are strange, Miss Ross,
+putting a loving heart into an animal like that, and leaving some human
+beings without one--unless it be a heart of stone;' and here Mrs. Baxter
+sighed heavily and snapped her thread.
+
+'I hope things have been quiet lately,' observed Audrey, taking off her
+hat.
+
+'You mean, if Joe has been behaving himself?--which is a question I can
+thankfully answer at present. Joe has not been troubling me again, Miss
+Ross. I think father frightened him that time. Joe was always a coward;
+it is an evil conscience that makes him a coward. There is nothing else
+so frights a man. Joe couldn't treat a woman as he has treated me
+without feeling his conscience prick him sometimes.'
+
+'No, indeed, Mrs. Baxter. Let us hope that he will repent some day.'
+
+'I tell father his repentance will come too late. We can't sow tares and
+reap wheat in this world, Miss Ross. "The wicked flee when no man
+pursueth." I always think of Joe when I read that verse. Oh, there is
+always comfort to be found in the Scriptures. "A woman forsaken and
+grieved in spirit"--do you remember those words, Miss Ross? I came upon
+them quite suddenly one evening as I was sitting in this very porch, and
+I said out loud to myself, as one does sometimes, "Those words just fit
+you, Priscilla Baxter; they might be written for you."'
+
+'That makes the Bible such a wonderful book,' returned Audrey
+thoughtfully. 'Every form of grief finds expression and comfort there;
+there is food for every mind, every age, every nationality.'
+
+'I never saw anyone to beat father in reading the Bible, Miss Ross. You
+would be surprised to see how kindly he takes to it. I have known him
+read the Prodigal Son to Hannah and me on Sunday evening with the tears
+running down his face, and he not knowing it more than a baby, for all
+Hannah's sniffs. It is his favourite reading--it is, indeed, Miss Ross,
+though his voice does get choky sometimes.'
+
+'He is thinking of his poor brother Mat.'
+
+'Begging your pardon, Miss Ross, I would rather not mention Uncle Mat,'
+returned Mrs. Baxter stiffly. 'Joe has been a thorn in my side, heaven
+knows! and his wickedness has reduced me, his wedded wife, to skin and
+bone; but even Joe, with all his villainies, has not made himself a
+felon, and I can still bear his name without blushing--and so I have
+told father a score of times when he wants to make out that Joe is the
+blacker of the two.'
+
+'Oh, I would not hurt him by speaking against his brother! Do you know,
+Mrs. Baxter, he loves him so dearly still.'
+
+'Yes; but that is father's craze, Miss Ross,' she replied coldly. 'Even
+a good man has his little weakness, and, being a Churchwoman, and I
+trust humbly a believer, I would not deny that Providence has given me
+as good a father as ever breathed this mortal air; but we are all human,
+Miss Ross, and human nature has its frailties, and father would be a
+wiser and a happier man if he did not set such store by an ungrateful
+and good-for-nothing brother, who is a shame to his own flesh and blood,
+and whom it is a bitterness to me to own as my Uncle Mat.'
+
+'Priscilla!' ejaculated a grieved voice near them; and, looking round,
+the two women saw Mr. O'Brien standing within a few paces of them. No
+one had heard his footsteps except Booty, whose instincts were always
+gentlemanly, and who, in spite of his deep dejection, had given him a
+friendly greeting.
+
+Mr. O'Brien's good-natured face looked unusually grave.
+
+'Good-evening, Miss Ross. I thought we should see you before your
+flitting. I am sorry I stepped out for a bit, and so lost your company.
+Prissy, my girl, I don't want to find fault with you, but I'll not deny
+that it hurts me to hear you speak against Mat, poor old chap! when he
+is not here to answer for himself. It is woman-like, but it is not
+fair'--looking at them with mild reproach--'and it cuts me to hear it.
+It is not what your mother, my blessed Susan, would have done. She was
+never hard upon Mat--never!'
+
+Mrs. Baxter gave a penitent little sniff, and a faint flush came to her
+sallow face; with all her faults, she was devoted to her father. But she
+was a true daughter of Eve, and this well-deserved reproach only moved
+her to feeble recrimination.
+
+'Well, father, I was always taught that listeners never heard any good
+of themselves. Not that the proverb holds strictly true in this case;
+but if Uncle Mat were standing in your place, and heard what I said to
+Miss Ross, he would not deny I was speaking the truth--being always
+praised for my truthfulness and shaming the devil as much as possible;
+and if you are for saying that Uncle Mat was a kind brother to one who
+acted as his own father, I am bound to say that I do not agree with
+you.'
+
+'No, my lass; I am free to confess that Mat might have been kinder, and
+that as far as that goes you are speaking Gospel truth; but my Susan and
+I have been used to say the Lord's Prayer together every night; and
+Susan--that's your mother, Prissy--would sometimes whisper as we knelt
+down, "Tom, are we sure we have quite forgiven everybody? I was put out
+this afternoon with Mat;" and sometimes her voice would tremble a bit
+when she came to the words, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive
+them that trespass against us."' And Mr. O'Brien took off his straw hat
+with old-fashioned reverence.
+
+Mrs. Baxter gave a little choke.
+
+'I wish I had left it unsaid, father, if you are going to take on like
+this,' she observed remorsefully. 'Sooner than grieve you, I would hold
+my tongue about Uncle Mat for the remainder of my natural life. There is
+nothing I would do sooner than have my mother quoted to me like a
+Scripture saint, as though I were not worthy to tie her shoe-string.'
+
+'Nay, nay, my lass, you are misunderstanding my meaning.'
+
+'No, father, begging your pardon, I am not; and, as I have often told
+Miss Ross, I never feel worthy to be the offspring of such parents. Miss
+Ross'--turning to her--'my father is a little low this evening, and I
+have put him out of his usual way. I will leave you to talk to him a
+bit while I open a bottle of our white currant wine to hearten you for
+your walk home.'
+
+'Poor Prissy!' observed Mr. O'Brien, shaking his gray head; 'she is a
+worrier, as Susan used to say; but her bark is worse than her bite. She
+is a good soul, and I would not change her for one of the lively sort.'
+
+'She is really very sorry for having pained you.'
+
+'Sorry! Bless my heart, you don't know Prissy. She will be that contrite
+for showing the sharp edge of her tongue that there will be nothing she
+will not do to make amends. It will be, "Father, what will you have?"
+and, "Father, do you think you could enjoy that?" from morning to night,
+as though I were a new-born babe to be tended. No, no, you are not up to
+Prissy. She has not got her mother's sweet, charitable nature--my Susan,
+bless her dear heart! always thought the best of everybody--but Prissy
+is a good girl, for all that.'
+
+Audrey smiled as she drew down a tendril of jasmine to inhale its
+honeyed fragrance. There was not much girlhood left in the faded,
+sorrowful woman who had left them just now; but in the father's fond
+eyes Priscilla would always be a girl. Then, in her serious, sweet way,
+she began to talk to her old friend--drawing him out, and listening to
+those vague, far old memories that seemed dearer to him day by day,
+until he had grown soothed and comforted.
+
+Mrs. Baxter joined them by and by, but she did not interrupt them,
+except to press another slice of the home-made cake on Audrey.
+
+When she rose to go, father and daughter accompanied her to the gate,
+and wished her a hearty God-speed.
+
+'Good-bye, my dear old friends,' she returned cheerfully; 'in seven
+weeks I shall hope to see you again. Take care of Mr. O'Brien, Mrs.
+Baxter.'
+
+'Oh yes, Miss Ross, I will take care of him. It is not as if one could
+have a second parent. Father, put on your hat; the dews are falling, and
+you are not as young as you used to be.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+AMONG THE BRAIL LANES
+
+     'Discreet reserve in a woman, like the distances kept by royal
+     personages, contributes to maintain the proper reverence. Most of
+     our pleasures are prized in proportion to the difficulty with which
+     they are obtained.'--FORDYCE.
+
+     'A very slight spark will kindle a flame when everything lies open
+     to catch it.'--SIR WALTER SCOTT.
+
+
+While Audrey was talking to her old friend in the jasmine-covered porch
+of Vineyard Cottage, Cyril Blake was sitting on a stile in one of the
+Brail lanes, trying to solve a difficult problem.
+
+A domestic matter had come under his notice that very afternoon--a very
+ordinary occurrence, if he had only known it--and had caused him much
+vexation. Not being more clear-sighted than other young men of his age,
+it is extremely doubtful whether he would have noticed it at all but for
+a few words spoken by Miss Ross.
+
+A week or two ago he had observed casually to her, as they were standing
+together on the cricket-field, that he thought Mollie was growing very
+fast.
+
+'I suppose she is strong,' he added doubtfully; 'but she has certainly
+seemed very tired lately'--this reflection being forced upon him by a
+remark of Kester's, 'that Mollie had such a lot of headaches now.'
+
+'I am afraid Mollie is very often tired,' returned Audrey rather
+gravely.
+
+Now, there was nothing in this simple remark to arrest Cyril's
+attention; but somehow Audrey's tone implied a good deal, and, though no
+further word passed between them on the subject, Cyril was left with an
+uncomfortable impression, though it was too vague and intangible to be
+understood by him.
+
+But on this afternoon in question he was rummaging among his possessions
+for some studs he had mislaid, and, thinking Mollie would help him in
+the search, he went in quest of her. He found her in the close little
+kitchen, ironing a pile of handkerchiefs and starched things. The place
+felt like an oven that hot summer's afternoon, and poor Mollie's face
+was sadly flushed; she looked worried and overheated, and it was then
+that Audrey's words flashed on him with a sort of electrical
+illumination--'I am afraid Mollie is very often tired.'
+
+'Did you want me, Cyril?' asked Mollie, a little wearily, as she tested
+another iron and then put it down again.
+
+'Yes--no, it does not matter,' rather absently. 'Mollie, is there no one
+else who can do that work? This place is like a brick-kiln.'
+
+'Well, there is only Biddy, you know, and she does get up the things so
+badly. You remember how you grumbled about your handkerchiefs--and no
+wonder, for they looked as though they were rough-dried--and so mamma
+said I had better do them for the future, because I could iron so
+nicely;' and Mollie gave a look of pride at the snowy pile beside her.
+
+But Cyril was not so easily mollified.
+
+'I would rather have my things badly done than see you slave in this
+fashion,' he returned, with unwonted irritation. 'Mollie, does Miss Ross
+know you do this sort of thing?'
+
+'Oh yes, of course; I always tell Miss Ross everything.'
+
+'She must have a pretty good opinion of us by this time,' in a vexed
+voice.
+
+'She knows it cannot be helped,' returned Mollie simply. 'She did say
+one day that she was very sorry for me, when she saw how tired I
+was--oh, she was so dear and sweet that day!--and once when I told her
+how my back ached, and I could not help crying a little, she said she
+would like to speak to mamma about me, but that she knew it was no
+business of hers.'
+
+'Anyhow, I shall make it my business,' returned her brother decidedly;
+and he marched off to the drawing-room.
+
+Mrs. Blake was sitting in the window, marking some of Kester's new
+socks. She looked very cool and comfortable; the room was sweet with the
+scent of flowers. The contrast between her and Mollie struck Cyril very
+forcibly, and when his mother looked up at him with one of her caressing
+smiles, he did not respond with his customary brightness.
+
+'Mother, I want to talk to you about Mollie,' he said with unusual
+abruptness, as he threw himself down in a cushioned chair opposite his
+mother's little work-table.
+
+'Yes, dear,' she returned tranquilly, pausing to admire an
+exquisitely-worked initial.
+
+'I found her in the kitchen just now, with her face the colour of a
+peony, ironing out a lot of things. The place was like a furnace; I
+could not have stood it for a quarter of an hour. Surely, mother, there
+is no need for Mollie to slave in this way.'
+
+'Do you call ironing a few fine things slavery?' replied Mrs. Blake in
+an amused voice. 'In our great-grandmothers' time girls did more than
+that. Mollie is not overworked, I assure you.'
+
+'Then what makes her look so done up?'
+
+'Oh, that is nothing! She is growing so fast, you know; and growing
+girls have that look. Mollie is as strong as a horse, really--at her age
+I was far weaker. Mollie is a good child, but she is a little given to
+grumbling and making a fuss about trifles.'
+
+'Oh, I don't agree with you there.'
+
+'That is because you do not understand girls,' returned his mother
+composedly. 'But you may safely leave Mollie to me. Am I likely to
+overwork one of my own children? Should I be worthy of the name of
+mother?'
+
+'Yes, but you might not see your way to help it--that is, as long as you
+persist in your ridiculous resolution of keeping Biddy. Why, she ought
+to have been shelved long ago.'
+
+'That is my affair, Cyril,' replied Mrs. Blake with unusual dignity.
+
+She hardly ever spoke to him in that voice, and he looked up a little
+surprised.
+
+'I hope we are not going to quarrel, motherling,' his pet name for her.
+
+'Do we ever quarrel, darling? No, you only vex me when you talk of
+sending poor old Biddy away. I could not do it, Cyril. I am not
+naturally a hard-hearted woman, and it would be sheer cruelty to turn
+off my old nurse. Where would she go, poor old thing? And you know
+yourself we cannot afford another servant.'
+
+'Not at present, certainly.'
+
+'Perhaps we may in the future--who knows?' returned Mrs. Blake with
+restored gaiety; 'and until then a little work will not hurt Mollie. Do
+you know, when I was a girl, my mother always insisted on my sister
+Dora and myself making our own beds--she said it would straighten our
+backs--and she liked us to run up and down stairs and make ourselves
+useful, because the exercise would improve our carriage and complexion.
+Dora had such a pretty figure, poor girl! and I think mine is passable,'
+drawing herself up to give effect to her words.
+
+'You, mother? You are as slim and as graceful as a girl now!' returned
+Cyril admiringly. Then, recurring to his subject with a man's
+persistence, 'I don't believe you did half so much as poor Mollie does.'
+
+'And what does she do?' asked Mrs. Blake, still mildly obstinate. 'She
+only supplements poor old Biddy. A little dusting, a little bed-making;
+now and then, perhaps, a trifle of ironing. What is that for a strong,
+healthy girl like Mollie?'
+
+'Yes; but Mollie has to be educated,' replied Cyril, only half convinced
+by this plausible statement. 'These things may be only trifles, as you
+say, but they take up a good deal of time. You know, mother dear, how
+often I complain of the desultory way Mollie's lessons are carried on.'
+
+'That is because Mollie and I are such wretched managers,' she returned
+eagerly. 'I am a feckless body, I know; and Mollie takes after me--we
+both hate running in grooves.'
+
+'Mollie is young enough to learn better ways,' was Cyril's grave answer.
+'As for you, mother, you are hopeless,' with a shake of his head.
+
+'Yes, you will never mend or alter me,' she rejoined with a light laugh.
+'I am Irish to the backbone. Now, my boy, you really must not keep me
+any longer with all this nonsense about Mollie. I have to go up to
+Rosendale, you know; Mrs. Cardell begged me to sit with her a little,
+and I am late now. Mollie will give you your tea. Come--have you
+forgiven your mother?' passing her white taper fingers over his dark
+hair as she spoke.
+
+Cyril's only answer was to draw her face down to his.
+
+Mrs. Blake smiled happily at him as she left the room--what did she care
+if only everything were right between her and her idolised boy? But
+Cyril was not so satisfied. With all his love for his mother, he was by
+no means blind to her many faults. He knew she was far too partial in
+her treatment of her children--that she was often thoughtless of
+Kester's comfort, and a little hard in her judgment of him; and she was
+not always judicious with respect to Mollie. At times she was lax, and
+left the girl to her own devices; but in certain moods, when Cyril had
+been speaking to her, perhaps, there would be nothing right. It was then
+that Mollie was accused of untidiness and feckless ways, when hints of
+idleness were dropped, and strict rules, never to be carried out, were
+made. Mollie must do a copy every day; she wrote worse than a child of
+ten. Her ignorance of geography was disgraceful; she had no idea where
+the Tigris was, and she could not name half the counties in Scotland,
+and so on. For four-and-twenty hours Mollie would be drilled, put
+through her facings, lectured, and made generally miserable; but by the
+next morning or so the educational cleaning would be over. 'Mother
+wasn't in a mood for teaching,' Mollie would say in her artless fashion
+as she carried away her books.
+
+'No; he could not alter his mother's nature,' Cyril thought sadly. He
+could only do the best he could for them all. He was clever enough to
+see that his mother was wilfully shutting her eyes to her own
+mismanagement of Mollie, and that she preferred drifting on in this
+happy-go-lucky fashion. With all her energy and fits of industry, she
+was extremely indolent, and never liked taking trouble about anything.
+No; it was no use talking to her any more about Mollie, unless he had
+some definite suggestion to make--and then it was that he wondered if
+Miss Ross would help him; she always helped everyone, and he knew that
+she was in full possession of the facts.
+
+'I am not a bit ashamed of our poverty,' thought Cyril, as he plunged
+down the sweet, dewy lanes. 'One day I shall get on, and be any man's
+equal; but the only thing that troubles me is the idea that she thinks
+us too hard on Mollie. She has never said so, of course; but somehow it
+is so easy to read her thoughts--she is more transparent than other
+people.' And Cyril heaved a deep sigh. 'I wonder what she will think
+when she sees me. I do not want her to know that I am looking out for
+her. Everyone has a right to take an evening walk if he likes; and, of
+course, the roads are open to all. Even without this excuse I meant to
+do it; for after this evening----' And then Cyril groaned to himself as
+he thought of the seven long blank weeks that stretched before him, when
+a certain sweet face would be missing; and at that moment he espied the
+gleam of a white dress between the hedgerows.
+
+Now, Audrey was right in saying Booty was a spoilt dog. He was as full
+of whimsies this evening as spoilt children generally are. He had
+testified extreme delight when Audrey had closed the gate of Vineyard
+Cottage behind her. By some curious canine train of reasoning he had
+arrived at the conviction that his master was at Woodcote--had probably
+arrived there during their absence; and with this pleasing notion he
+pattered cheerfully after Audrey down the long grass lanes. But Audrey
+walked fast, and being rather late, she walked all the faster; and
+Booty, who was used to Michael's leisurely pace, began to lag behind and
+to hold out signals of distress. 'Oh, Booty, Booty!' exclaimed Audrey,
+regarding the little animal indulgently; 'and so I am to carry you, just
+because your legs are so absurdly short that they tire easily.'
+Evidently this was what Booty wished, for he sat up and waved his paws
+in an irresistible way. 'Very well, I will carry you, old fellow; but
+you are dreadfully spoilt, you know.'
+
+'Indeed, you shall do nothing of the kind, Miss Ross;' and Cyril jumped
+off the stile. 'I will carry him for you;' and Cyril hoisted him up on
+his arm, being rewarded by an affectionate dab on his nose from Booty's
+busy tongue.
+
+Audrey had coloured slightly when she first caught sight of Cyril's tall
+figure; but she suppressed her surprise.
+
+'Is this a favourite walk of yours?' she asked carelessly, as though it
+were a usual thing to meet Mr. Blake wandering about the Brail lanes.
+
+Cyril was quite equal to the occasion. He hardly knew which was his
+favourite walk; he was trying them all by turns. He had taken his mother
+to Brail once, and she had been much pleased with the village. There was
+one cottage she thought very pretty--indeed, they had both fallen in
+love with it; it had a quaint old porch, smothered in jasmine.
+
+'That is Vineyard Cottage, where my friends the O'Briens live,' replied
+Audrey, only half deceived by this smooth account.
+
+It was clear that Mr. Blake wished her to think that only purest
+accident had guided his feet in the direction of Brail; but Audrey was
+sharp-witted, and she knew Mollie had a tongue; it would be so natural
+for her to say, 'Miss Ross is going to see some old friends at
+Brail--she told me so; but it is so hot that she will not go until after
+tea.' Once before she had been sure that Mollie's chattering had set Mr.
+Blake on her track. She must be more careful how she talked to Mollie
+for the future.
+
+But here Cyril, who was somewhat alarmed at her gravity, and who half
+guessed at her thoughts, began to speak about Mollie in an anxious,
+brotherly manner that restored Audrey at once to ease.
+
+'So you see all the difficulty,' he continued after he had briefly
+stated the facts; 'and I should be so grateful if you could help me to
+any solution. I ought to apologise for troubling you, but I know you
+take such an interest in Mollie.'
+
+'I do indeed,' she returned cordially, and in a moment every trace of
+constraint vanished from her manner; 'and, to tell you the truth, Mr.
+Blake, I have felt rather anxious about her lately. Even my mother has
+noticed how far from strong she looks.'
+
+'But that is because she is growing so fast,' he replied, unconsciously
+repeating Mrs. Blake's words. 'You see, Miss Ross, my mother absolutely
+refuses to part with Biddy. I have argued with her again and again, but
+nothing will induce her to send the old woman away. She also declares
+that she cannot afford another servant, so what is to be done?' and
+Cyril sighed as though he had all the labours of Hercules before him.
+
+Audrey looked at him very kindly; she was much touched by this
+confidence. How few young men, she thought, would have been so simple
+and straightforward! There was no false pride in the way he mentioned
+their small means and homely contrivances; he spoke to her quite
+frankly, as though he knew she was their friend, and as though he
+trusted her. It was the purest flattery, the most delicious homage he
+could have offered her. Audrey felt her sympathy quicken as she
+listened.
+
+'I would not trouble about it just now,' she observed cheerfully--'not
+until the vacation is over. Mollie will have very little to do while you
+and Kester are away.'
+
+'That is true,' he returned, in a relieved tone; for he had not thought
+of that.
+
+'When we all come back we might hit upon some plan. Do you think your
+mother would object to having in a woman two or three times a week to
+help Biddy? I think I know a person who would just do--Rebecca
+Armstrong. She does not want to leave home; but she is a strong, capable
+girl, and could easily do all the rough work--and she is very moderate
+in her charges. I could inquire about her, if you like.'
+
+'It is an excellent idea,' he replied, inwardly wondering why it had not
+occurred to his mother. 'I am so grateful to you for suggesting it. I am
+quite sure my mother will not object; so by all means let us have this
+Rebecca.'
+
+'Shall I tell your mother about her?'
+
+'Perhaps I had better speak to her first; there is no hurry, as you say.
+Really, Miss Ross, you have lifted a burden off my mind.'
+
+'I am so glad!' with a smile. 'You see, Mr. Blake, it will be so nice
+for Mollie to have her mornings to herself. She has told me two or three
+times that she finds it impossible to work in the afternoon, there are
+so many interruptions; and by that time she is generally so tired--or
+stupid, as she calls it--that she cannot even add up her sums.'
+
+'Oh, we will alter all that!' replied Cyril lightly.
+
+He had discharged his duty, and now he did not want to talk about Mollie
+any more. From the first he had always felt conscious of a feeling of
+well-being, of utter contentment, when he was in the presence of this
+girl; it made him happy only to be with her. But this evening they were
+so utterly alone; the whole world was shut out by those barriers of
+grassy lanes and still green meadows, with their groups of
+slowly-feeding cattle.
+
+The evening air was full of dewy freshness, and only the twittering of
+birds broke the stillness. A subtle sweetness seemed to distil through
+the young man's veins as he glanced at his companion; involuntarily, his
+voice softened.
+
+'I wonder where you will be this time to-morrow?' he said, rather
+abruptly.
+
+'We are to sleep at York, you know. Geraldine wants to see the Minster.'
+
+'Oh yes, I remember; Captain Burnett told me;' and then he began
+questioning her about Braemar. Could she describe it to him? He had
+never been in Scotland, and he would like to picture the place to
+himself. He should ask Kester to send him a photograph or two.
+
+Audrey was quite willing to satisfy him. She had been there already, and
+had seen their cottage. She could tell him all about their two parlours,
+and the little garden running down to the beck. But Cyril's curiosity
+was insatiable; he wanted to know presently how she would employ herself
+and what books she would read.
+
+'For you will have wet days,' he added--'saft days, I think they call
+them--and then time will hang heavily on your hands unless you have
+plenty of books.'
+
+'Oh, Michael has seen to that,' she replied brightly.
+
+Somehow, Michael's name was perpetually cropping up. 'My cousin and I
+mean to do that,' or 'Michael means to help me with that,' until Cyril's
+face grew slightly lugubrious.
+
+True, he tried to console himself with the remembrance of Audrey's words
+that she and Geraldine looked upon Michael as a sort of brother; still,
+he never did quite approve of this sort of adopted relationship. It was
+always a mistake, he thought; and in time people found it out for
+themselves.
+
+Of course he was Miss Ross's cousin--or, rather, her father's
+cousin--but even that did not explain matters comfortably to his mind;
+and when a man has a Victoria Cross, and is looked upon in the light of
+a hero, it is a little difficult for other men not to envy him.
+
+Cyril began to feel less happy. The walk was nearly at an end, too. Some
+of the light and cheerfulness seemed to fade out of the landscape; a
+chill breath permeated the summer air.
+
+But Audrey went on talking in her lively, girlish way. She was quite
+unconscious of the sombre tinge that had stolen over Cyril's thoughts.
+
+'Yes, to-morrow we shall be more than a hundred miles away; and the next
+day you will be _en route_ for Cornwall.'
+
+'I suppose so.'
+
+'You will have a very pleasant time, I hope.'
+
+'Oh, I daresay it will be pleasant enough; the house will be full of
+company--at least, Hackett says so. His people are very hospitable.'
+
+'Are there any daughters?'
+
+'Oh yes; there are three girls--the three Graces, as they were called
+when they came up to Commemoration.'
+
+'Indeed; were they so handsome?'
+
+'Some of our men thought so,' with a fine air of indifference. 'I know
+Baker was smitten with one of them; it is going to be a match, I
+believe. That is Henrietta, the eldest.'
+
+'I suppose she was the handsomest?'
+
+'Oh dear no! Miss Laura is far better looking; and so is the youngest,
+Miss Frances. In my opinion Miss Frances is far more taking than either
+of her sisters.'
+
+'Oh, indeed! I think you will have a pleasant time, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Well, I cannot say I am looking forward to it. I am afraid it will be
+rather a bore than otherwise. I would much rather go on working.'
+
+'I don't think you would find Rutherford very lively.'
+
+'Oh, I did not mean that!' with a reproachful glance at her that Audrey
+found rather embarrassing. 'You surely could not have thought I wished
+to remain here now'--a dangerous emphasis on 'now.' 'Why, it would be
+the abomination of desolation, a howling wilderness.'
+
+'I thought you were fond of Rutherford.'
+
+Audrey was not particularly brilliant in her remarks just now; she was
+not good at this sort of fencing. She had a dim idea that she ought to
+discourage this sort of thing; but she did so hate snubbing anyone, and,
+in spite of his youth, Mr. Blake was rather formidable.
+
+'So I do--I love Rutherford!' he returned, with such vehemence that
+Audrey was startled, and Booty tried anxiously to lick him again. 'It
+was a blessed day that brought us all here--I wonder how often I say
+that to myself--but all the same----' he paused, seemed to recollect
+himself, and went on--'it must be very dull in vacation time.'
+
+'Oh yes, of course,' she said quickly. It was rather a tame conclusion
+to his sentence; but Audrey breathed more freely. She was almost glad
+they had reached Rutherford, and that in a few minutes Woodcote would be
+in view.
+
+They were both a little silent after this, and by and by Cyril put Booty
+down.
+
+'Good-bye,' observed Audrey very gently, as she extended her hand.
+'Thank you so much for being so good to Booty; and please give my love
+to your mother and Mollie.'
+
+'Good-bye,' murmured Cyril; and for a moment he held her hand very
+tightly. If his eyes said a little too eloquently that he knew he should
+not see her again for a long time, Audrey did not see it, for her own
+were downcast. That strong, warm pressure of Cyril's hand had been a
+revelation, and a quick, sensitive blush rose to her face as she turned
+silently away.
+
+'That is over,' thought Cyril to himself, as he strode through the
+silent street in the summer twilight; 'and now for seven long blank
+weeks. Am I mad to-night? would it ever be possible? It is like the new
+heaven and the new earth only to think of it!' finished the young man,
+delirious with this sweet intoxication of possible and impossible
+dreams.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+ON A SCOTCH MOOR
+
+     'Time, so complained of,
+     Who to no one man
+     Shows partiality,
+     Brings round to all men
+     Some undimm'd hours.'
+
+               MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+In future days Audrey always looked back upon those seven weeks at
+Braemar with the same feelings with which one recalls the memory of some
+lake embosomed in hills, that one has seen sleeping in the sunlight, and
+in which only tranquil images were reflected--the branch of some
+drooping sapling, or some bird's wing as it skimmed across the glassy
+surface.
+
+Just so one day after another glided away in smooth enjoyment and
+untroubled serenity, and not a discordant breath ruffled the two
+households.
+
+The house that Dr. Ross had taken had originally been two good-sized
+cottages, and though the rooms were small, there were plenty of them;
+and a little careful adjustment of the scanty furniture, and a few
+additional nicknacks, transformed the parlour into a pleasant
+sitting-room. Geraldine wondered and admired when she came across, the
+first morning after their arrival. Audrey had arranged her own and
+Michael's books on the empty shelves; the little mirror, and indeed the
+whole mantelpiece, was festooned and half hidden with branches laden
+with deep crimson rowan-berries, mixed with heather and silvery-leafed
+honesty; a basket of the same rowan-berries occupied the centre of the
+round table; an Oriental scarf draped the ugly horsehair sofa, and a
+comfortable-looking rug was thrown over the shabby easy-chair. The
+fishing-tackle, butterfly-nets, pipes, and all other heterogeneous
+matters, were consigned to a small bare apartment, known as 'Michael's
+den,' and which soon became a lumber-room.
+
+Geraldine looked at her sister's handiwork with great approval. She
+considered her father's household was magnificently lodged; she and her
+husband had taken up their quarters in a much less commodious
+cottage--their tiny parlour would hardly hold four people comfortably,
+and the ceiling was so low that Mr. Harcourt always felt as though he
+must knock his head against the rafters. When any of the Ross party
+called on them, they generally adjourned to the small sloping garden,
+and conversed among the raspberry-bushes.
+
+It was delightful to see Geraldine's enjoyment of these primitive
+surroundings. The young mistress of Hillside seemed transformed into
+another person. Percival's clever contrivances, their little makeshifts,
+their odd picnic life, were all fruitful topics of conversation.
+
+'And then I have him all to myself, without any tiresome boys,' she
+would say to her mother. 'It is just like another honeymoon.'
+
+Geraldine's one grievance was that she was not strong enough to share
+her husband's excursions. She had to stay with her mother and Michael
+when he and Audrey and Dr. Ross took one of their long scrambling or
+fishing expeditions. Geraldine used to manifest a wifely impatience on
+these occasions that was very pretty and becoming; and she and Michael,
+who seemed to share her feelings, would stroll to the little bridge of
+an evening to meet the returning party. Somehow Michael was always the
+first to see them and to raise the friendly halloo, that generally sent
+the small black cattle scampering down the croft.
+
+'See the conquering hero comes!' Mr. Harcourt would respond, opening his
+rush basket to display the silvery trout. Dr. Ross's pockets would be
+full of mosses and specimens and fragments of rock, and Audrey brought
+up the rear with both hands laden with wild-flowers and grasses.
+
+'Have you been dull, my darling?' Mr. Harcourt would say as Geraldine
+walked beside him. She seemed to have eyes and ears for no one else--and
+was that any wonder, when he had been absent from her since early
+morning? 'We have had a grand day, Jerry; we have tramped I do not know
+how many miles--Dr. Ross says fifteen; we have been arguing about it all
+the way home. I am as hungry as a hunter. I feel like Esau--a bowl of
+red lentils would not have a chance with me. I always had a sneaking
+sort of liking for Esau. What have you got for supper, little woman?'
+
+'Salmon-steaks and broiled fowl,' was Geraldine's answer--'your
+favourite dishes, Percy. I am so glad you are hungry.'
+
+'Faith, that I am; the Trojan heroes were nothing to me! I will have a
+wash first, and get off these boots--should you know them for
+boots?--and then you shall see, my dear.'
+
+And it may be doubted whether those two ever enjoyed a meal more than
+those salmon-steaks and broiled fowl that Jean Scott first cooked and
+then carried in bare-armed, setting down the dishes with a triumphant
+bang on the small rickety table.
+
+'Now we will have a drop of the cratur and a pipe,' Mr. Harcourt would
+say. 'Wrap yourself in my rug, and we will sit in the porch, for really
+this cabin stifles me after the moors. What have you and your mother
+been talking about? Let me have the whole budget, Jerry.'
+
+Was there a happier woman in the world than Geraldine, nestled under her
+husband's plaid, in the big roomy porch, and looking out at the
+starlight? Even practical, prosaic people have their moments of poetry,
+when the inner meaning of things seems suddenly revealed to them, when
+their outer self drops off and their vision is purged and purified; and
+Geraldine, listening to the tinkling beck below, and inhaling the cool
+fragrance of the Scotch twilight, creeps nearer to her husband and leans
+against his sheltering arm. What does it matter what they talked about?
+Mr. Harcourt had not yet forgotten the lover in the husband; perhaps he,
+too, felt how sweet was this dual solitude after his busy labours, and
+owned in manly fashion his sense of his many blessings.
+
+'How happy those two are!' Audrey once said, a little thoughtfully.
+
+She was sitting on the open moor, and Michael was stretched on the
+heather beside her, with Kester at a little distance, buried as usual in
+his book; Booty was amusing himself by following rather inquisitively
+the slow movements of a bee that was humming over the heather. The three
+had been spending a tranquil afternoon together, while Dr. Ross and his
+son-in-law had started for a certain long walk, which they declared no
+woman ought to attempt.
+
+Audrey was not sorry to be left with Michael. It had been her intention
+from the first to devote herself to him; and dearly as she loved these
+rambles with her father, she was quite as happy talking to Michael.
+Audrey's dangerous gift of sympathy--dangerous because of its lack of
+moderation--always enabled her to throw herself into other people's
+interests; it gave her positive happiness to see Michael so tranquil and
+content, and carrying himself with the air of a man who knows himself to
+be anchored in some fair haven after stress of weather; and, indeed,
+these were halcyon days to Michael.
+
+He had Audrey's constant companionship, and never had the girl been
+sweeter to him. The delicious moorland air, the free life, the absence
+of any care or worry, braced his worn nerves and filled his pulses with
+a sense of returning health. He felt comparatively well and strong, and
+woke each morning with a sense of enjoyment and well-being. Even
+Audrey's long absences did not trouble him over-much, for there was
+always the pleasure of her return. He and Kester could always amuse
+themselves until the time came for him and Geraldine to stroll to their
+trysting-place.
+
+'Here we are, Michael!' Audrey would say, with her sudden bright smile,
+that seemed to light up the landscape. Somehow, he had never admired her
+so much as he did now in her neat tweed dress, and the deerstalker cap
+that sat so jauntily on her brown hair. How lightly she walked! how full
+of life and energy she was! No mountain-bred lass had a freer step, a
+more erect carriage.
+
+When Audrey made her little speech about her sister's happiness, Michael
+looked up with a sort of lazy surprise in his eyes.
+
+'Well, are not married people generally happy?' he asked. 'At least, the
+world gives them credit for happiness. Fancy turning bankrupt at nine or
+ten months!'
+
+'Oh, there will be no bankruptcy in their case. Gage is a thoroughly
+contented woman. Do you know, Michael, I begin to think Percival a good
+fellow myself. I never saw quite so much of him before, and he is really
+very companionable.'
+
+'Come, now, I have hopes of you. Then why this dubious tone in alluding
+to their matrimonial felicity?'
+
+'Oh, I don't know!' with a slight blush. 'I believe it makes me a little
+impatient if people talk too much about it. Mother and Gage are
+perpetually haranguing on such subjects as this; they are always
+hinting, or saying out openly, that such a girl had better be married.
+Now, it is all very well, but there are two sides to every question, and
+I do think old maids have a great many privileges. No one seems to think
+of the delights of freedom.'
+
+'I believe we have heard these sentiments before. Kester, my son, go on
+with your book; this sort of conversation is not intended for good
+little boys.'
+
+'Michael, don't be absurd! I really mean what I say; it is perfectly
+glorious to say and do just what one likes. I mean to write a paper
+about it one day, and send it up to one of our leading periodicals.'
+
+'"On the Old Maids of England," by "A Young Maid." I should like to read
+it; the result of three-and-twenty years' experience must be singularly
+beneficial to the world at large. Write it, my child, by all means; and
+I will correct the proof-sheets.'
+
+'But why should not one be happy in one's own way?' persisted Audrey.
+'You are older than I, Michael--I suppose a man of your age must have
+some experience--is it not something to be your own master, to go where
+you like and do what you like without being cross-questioned on your
+actions?'
+
+'Oh, I will agree with you there!'
+
+'People talk such nonsense about loneliness and all that sort of thing,
+as though one need be lonely in a whole world full of human
+creatures--as though an old maid cannot find plenty to love, and who
+will love her.'
+
+'I don't know; I never tried. If I had a maiden aunt, perhaps----'
+murmured Michael.
+
+'If you had, and she were a nice, kind-hearted woman, you would love
+her. I know it is the fashion to laugh at old maids, and make remarks on
+their funny little ways; but I never will find fault with them. Why, I
+shall be an old maid myself one day; but, all the same, I mean people to
+love me all my life long. What are you doing now?' rather sharply; for
+Michael had taken out his pocket-book and was writing the date.
+
+'I thought I might like to remind you of this conversation one day. Is
+it the sixteenth or the seventeenth? Thank you, Kester--the seventeenth?
+There! it is written down.'
+
+'You are very disagreeable, and I will not talk any more to you. I shall
+go and look for some stag's-horn moss instead;' and Audrey sprang up
+from her couch of heather and marched away, while Michael lay face
+downward, with his peaked cap drawn over his eyes, and watched her
+roaming over the moor.
+
+Now, why was Audrey declaiming after this fashion? and why did she take
+it into her head to air all sorts of independent notions that quite
+shocked her mother? and why was she for ever drawing plans to herself of
+a life that should be solitary, and yet crowded with interests--whose
+keynote should be sympathy for her fellow-creatures and large-hearted
+work among them? and, above all, why did she want to persuade herself
+and Michael that this was the sort of life best fitted for her? But no
+one could answer these questions; so complex is the machinery of
+feminine nature, that perhaps Audrey herself would have been the last to
+be able to answer them.
+
+But she was very happy, in spite of all these crude theories--very happy
+indeed; some fulness of life seemed to enrich her fine, bountiful
+nature, and to add to her sense of enjoyment. Sometimes, when she was
+sitting beside some mountain beck, in the hush of the noontide heat,
+when all was silent and solitary about her except the gauzy wings of
+insects moving above the grasses, a certain face would start up against
+the background of her thoughts--a pair of dark, wistful eyes would
+appeal to her out of the silence. That mute farewell, so suggestive, so
+full of pain--even the strong warm grasp with which her hand had been
+held--recurred to her memory. Was he still missing her, she wondered, or
+had Miss Frances contrived to comfort him?
+
+Miss Frances was very seldom mentioned in Cyril's frequent letters to
+Kester. The boy used to bring them to Audrey to read with a glow of
+satisfaction on his face.
+
+'Cyril is awfully good,' he said once; 'he never used to write to me at
+all; mother always had his letters. But look what a long one I have had
+to-day--two sheets and a half--and he has asked such a lot of questions.
+Please, do read it, Miss Ross; there are heaps of messages to
+everybody.'
+
+Audrey was quite willing to read it. As she took the letter, she again
+admired the clear, bold handwriting. It was just like the writer, she
+thought--frank, open, and straightforward. But as she perused it, a glow
+of amusement passed over her face.
+
+Mr. Blake's letters were very kind and brotherly, but were they only
+intended for Kester's eyes? Were all those picturesque descriptions,
+those clever sketches of character, those telling bits of humour, meant
+solely for the delectation of a boy of sixteen? And, then, the series of
+questions--what did they do all day when the weather was rainy, for
+example? did Miss Ross always join the Doctor and Mr. Harcourt on their
+fishing expeditions? and so on. Mr. Blake seldom mentioned her name,
+although there were many indirect allusions to her; but Miss Frances was
+scarcely ever mentioned. She was only classed in an offhand way with
+'the Hackett girls' or 'the young ladies.' 'The Hackett girls went with
+us; the two younger ones are famous walkers,' etcetera.
+
+Sometimes there would be an attempt to moralise.
+
+'I am getting sick of girls,' he wrote on this occasion. 'I will give
+you a piece of brotherly advice, my boy: never have much to do with
+them. Do not misunderstand me. By girls, I mean the specimens of young
+ladies one meets at tennis-parties, garden-parties, and that sort of
+thing. They are very pretty and amusing, but they are dangerous; they
+seem to expect that a fellow has nothing else to do but to dangle after
+them and pay them compliments. Even Miss F----. But, there, I will not
+mention names. She is a good sort--a lively little soul; but she is
+always up to mischief.'
+
+Audrey bit her lips to keep from smiling as she read this passage, for
+she knew Kester was watching her. It was one of the 'saft days' common
+in the Highlands, and, not being ducks, the two households had remained
+within doors. Dr. Ross and Michael were classifying butterflies and
+moths in the den; Mrs. Ross was in her room; and Mr. and Mrs.
+Harcourt--'cabined, cribbed, confined,' as Mr. Harcourt expressed
+it--were getting through alarming arrears of correspondence by way of
+passing the time. Audrey had lighted a fire in the parlour, and sat
+beside it snugly, and Kester was on the couch opposite her.
+
+'I wonder if it be Miss Frances!' thought Audrey, as she replaced the
+letter in the envelope. '"A lively little soul, and a good sort." I
+don't think Mr. Blake's dislike to girls counts for much. Young men
+seldom write in that way unless they are bitten; and, of course, it
+could be no one else but Miss Frances. But it is no use arguing out the
+question.'
+
+'It is a very good letter,' she said aloud. 'You are lucky to have such
+a correspondent. I suppose'--taking up her embroidery--'that your
+brother will not mind our seeing his letters?'
+
+'Oh dear no!' returned Kester, falling innocently into the snare. 'I
+have told him that you always read them; and, you see, he writes just as
+often. Do you think Cyril is enjoying himself as much as we are, Miss
+Ross? Now and then it seems to me that he is a little dull. When Cyril
+says he is bored, I think he means it.'
+
+Audrey evaded this question. She also had detected a vein of melancholy
+running through the letters. If he were so very happy in Miss Frances'
+society, would he wish quite so earnestly that the vacation were over,
+and that he was amongst his boys in the big schoolroom? Would he drop
+those hints that no air suited him like Rutherford air?
+
+'I think he ought to be enjoying himself,' she said, a little severely.
+'He is amongst very kind people, who evidently try to make him happy,
+and who treat him like one of themselves; and, then, the girls seem so
+good-natured. Young men do not know when they are well off. You had
+better tell him so, Kester.'
+
+'Shall I say it as a message from you?'
+
+'By no means;' and Audrey spoke very decidedly. 'I never send messages
+to gentlemen.' And as the boy looked rather abashed at this rebuke, she
+continued more gently: 'Of course you will give him our kind regards,
+and I daresay mother will send a message--Mr. Blake is a great favourite
+of hers. But it is not my business if your brother chooses to be
+discontented and to quarrel with his loaves and fishes.'
+
+'I think Cyril would like to be in my place,' observed Kester, quite
+unaware that he was saying the wrong thing; but Audrey took no notice of
+this speech. 'Well, he need not envy me now,' he went on, in a dolorous
+voice. 'It has been a grand time--I have never been so happy in my life;
+but it will soon be over now. Only a fortnight more.'
+
+'I am so glad you have been happy, Kester; and you do seem so much
+better,' looking at him critically.
+
+And indeed a great change had passed over the boy. His face was less
+thin and sharp, and there was a tinge of healthy colour in his cheeks;
+his eyes, too, were less sunken and hollow, and had lost their
+melancholy expression. When Audrey had first seen him on that June
+afternoon, there had been a subdued air about him that contrasted
+painfully with his extreme youth; but now there was renewed life and
+energy in his aspect, as though some heavy pressure had been suddenly
+removed.
+
+'I am ever so much better,' he returned gratefully; and it was then that
+Audrey noticed for the first time his likeness to his brother. He was
+really a nice-looking boy, and but for his want of health would have
+been handsome. 'When I go home'--and here a cloud passed over his
+face--'these weeks will seem like a dream. Fancy having to do nothing
+all day but enjoy one's self from morning to night!'
+
+'Why, I am sure you and Michael work hard enough.'
+
+'Oh, but that is the best pleasure of all!' he replied eagerly. 'I
+should not care for idleness. I like to feel I am making progress; and
+Captain Burnett says I am getting on first-rate. And then think of our
+study, Miss Ross!' and here Kester's face kindled with enthusiasm. 'How
+I shall dream of those moors, and of those great patches of purple
+heather, and the bees humming over the thyme, and the golden gorse, and
+the bracken! No wonder Cyril wants to be in my place!'
+
+'You and Michael are great friends, are you not, Kester?'
+
+'Oh yes!' But though Kester turned on her a beaming look of assent, he
+said no more. He had a boy's dislike to speak of his feelings; and
+Audrey respected this shy reticence, for she asked no further questions.
+But she knew Kester almost worshipped Michael, that a word from him
+influenced him more than a dozen words from any other person; even
+Cyril's opinion must defer to this new friend. For was not Captain
+Burnett a hero? did he not wear the Victoria Cross? and were not those
+scars the remains of glorious wounds, when he shed his blood freely for
+those poor sick soldiers? And this hero, this king of men, this grave,
+clear-eyed soldier, had thrown the aegis of his protection round
+him--Kester--had stooped to teach and befriend him! No wonder Kester
+prayed 'God bless him!' every night in his brief boyish prayers; that he
+grew to track his footsteps much as Booty did, and to read him--as
+Audrey failed to do--by the light of his honest, youthful love.
+
+For Kester's hero was Kester's friend; and in time friends grow to
+understand each other.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+YELLOW STOCKINGS ON THE TAPIS
+
+     'We school our manners, act our parts,
+       But He who sees us through and through
+     Knows that the bent of both our hearts
+       Was to be gentle, tranquil, true.'
+
+                              MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Audrey had not forgotten Mollie all this time. She kept her promise, and
+wrote to her frequently; and she had long letters from her in return.
+Mollie's girlish effusions were very innocent and loving. One day
+Michael asked to read one of them. He smiled as he handed it back.
+
+'She is a dear little girl!' he said heartily; 'I do not wonder that you
+are so fond of her. She is only an undeveloped child now, but there is
+plenty of good raw material. Mollie will make a fine large-hearted woman
+one day--like someone else I know,' he finished to himself. 'If I do not
+mistake, Mollie is cut after Audrey's pattern.'
+
+Now and then Mrs. Blake wrote also. Her letters were airy and
+picturesque, like her talk. Audrey would read them aloud to her mother
+and Michael.
+
+'I really feel as though our Richmond dreams had come true,' she wrote
+once--'as though our favourite castle in the air were built. "Not
+really, mother? you don't think this beautiful house and garden belong
+to us really?" asks Mollie, in her stupid way. You know what a literal
+little soul she is. "Oh, go away, Mollie!" I exclaim quite crossly. "How
+can I help it if you have no imagination?" For all I know, the place is
+ours: no one interferes with us; we come and go as we like; the birds
+sing to us; the flowers bloom for our pleasure. Sometimes we sit by the
+lake, or Mollie paddles me to Deep-water Chine, or we read our history
+on that delicious circular seat overlooking the terraces. Then the
+silence is invaded: a neat-handed Phyllis--isn't that poetically
+expressed?--comes up with a message from that good Mrs. Draper: "Where
+would Mrs. Blake and Miss Mollie have their tea?" Oh, you dear,
+thoughtful creature, as though I do not know who has prompted Mrs.
+Draper! Of course Mollie cries: "The garden, mamma!" and "The garden so
+be it," say I. And presently it comes--such a tea! such fruit, such
+cream, such cakes! No wonder Mollie is growing fat. And how am I to
+thank you and dear Mrs. Ross? I must give it up; words will not express
+my sense of your goodness. But before I finish this rigmarole I must
+tell you that Mollie practises every day for an hour, and keeps up her
+French, and the Roman history progresses well. I am carrying Mollie so
+fast over the ground that we shall soon be dragged at Pompey's
+chariot-wheels; and as she complains that she forgets what we have read,
+I make her take notes and copy them neatly in a book. I know you will be
+glad to hear this.'
+
+'Humph!' was Michael's sole observation, when Audrey had finished.
+
+'It is a very interesting letter--very droll and amusing,' remarked Mrs.
+Ross, in her kindly way. 'Mrs. Blake is a clever woman; don't you think
+so, Michael?'
+
+But Michael could not be induced to hazard an opinion; indeed, his
+behaviour was so unsatisfactory that Audrey threatened to keep the next
+letter to herself.
+
+But the last week was nearly at an end, and, though everyone loudly
+lamented over this fact, it was observed that Mrs. Ross's countenance
+grew brighter every day. She never willingly left her beautiful home,
+and she always hailed her return to it with joy. Not even her Highland
+home, with its heather and long festoons of stag-horn moss, could divert
+her affections from her beloved Woodcote; and the young mistress of
+Hillside fully echoed these sentiments.
+
+'It has been a lovely time, and has done Percy a world of good,' she
+said to her mother, as they were packing up some curiosities together;
+'but I can see he is growing a little tired of idleness; and, after all,
+there is no place like home.'
+
+'I am sure your father and I feel the same; and really, Geraldine, on a
+wet day these rooms are terribly small. I used to take my work upstairs;
+one seemed to breathe freer than in that stuffy parlour that Audrey and
+Michael think so charming.'
+
+'So our last evening has come,' observed Audrey, in a curious tone, as
+she and Michael wandered down to the little bridge they called their
+trysting-place. A tiny rivulet of water trickled over the stones, and
+two or three ducks were dibbling with yellow bills among the miniature
+boulders. Audrey sat down on the low wall, and Michael stooped to pick
+up a pebble, an action that excited frantic joy in Booty's breast.
+
+'Ah, to be sure!' he replied, as he sent it skimming along the water,
+while Booty pattered after it, barking with glee. 'Don't you remember De
+Quincey's observation?' And as Audrey shook her head, for she never
+remembered quotations, he went on: 'He declares that it is a true and
+feeling remark of Dr. Johnson's, that we never do anything consciously
+for the last time (of things, that is to say, which we have long been in
+the habit of doing) without sadness of heart.'
+
+'I think he is right;' and Audrey bent over the low parapet to watch a
+sudden scrimmage below.
+
+Booty was frisking among the boulders, and the ducks, evidently ruffled
+in their feelings, were swimming under the bridge, quacking a loud,
+indignant protest. Even ducks lose their tempers sometimes, and the
+angry flourish of their tails and the pouting of their soft necks and
+their open bills showed keen remonstrance and utter vexation of spirit.
+
+'Booty, come here, and leave those ducks in peace;' and then, while
+Michael threw another pebble or two, she sat asking herself if she felt
+this sadness. Was she glad or sorry to know that to-morrow they would be
+on their way to Rutherford?--would it not be a matter of regret if their
+return were to be suddenly postponed? She had been very happy here; she
+had seen so much of her father and Michael; but----Here Audrey brought
+her inward questioning to an abrupt end.
+
+'It has been a nice time, Michael,' she said gently--'a very nice time
+indeed.'
+
+'Look here! I wish you would substitute another adjective,' he
+remonstrated, quite seriously. '"Nice" is such an insipid, sugary sort
+of word: it has no sort of character about it. Now, if you had said "a
+good old time----"'
+
+'And have drawn down a reproof on myself for talking slang.'
+
+'Well, "a glorious time,"' he corrected--'shall we say that instead? You
+have enjoyed it, have you not?' with one of his searching looks.
+
+'Oh yes; I have never enjoyed myself more. And, Michael'--her love of
+mischief predominating--'I do believe we have not quarrelled once.'
+
+'You have been such a brick, you know, and have given in to me in
+everything. Somehow,' continued Michael, throwing up a pebble and
+catching it again, 'if people give in to me, I am remarkably
+sweet-tempered. We were very near a quarrel once, I remember, but it
+never came to anything. It was a hot afternoon, I think, and we were
+both sleepy.'
+
+'I cannot say I remember it.'
+
+'Well, let it pass. I am in that sort of magnanimous mood that I am
+ready to pronounce absolution on all offences--past, present, and to
+come. By the bye, Audrey, I forgot to tell you something. Kester has had
+the letter he wanted, and Widow Blake graciously signifies her assent.'
+
+'Michael, let me give you a timely warning. We shall quarrel if you call
+my friend by that ridiculous name.'
+
+'A quarrel cannot be carried on by one party alone,' he returned lazily;
+'and I absolutely refuse to consider a mere statement of facts in the
+light of a grievance. Still, if your feelings are wounded, and you
+object to my allusion to your fair friend's bereaved condition----'
+
+'Michael!' with a little stamp, 'will you leave off talking about Mrs.
+Blake and tell me what you mean?'
+
+'It is perfectly simple, I assure you. Kester wrote to his mother to ask
+if he might go up to town with me, and she said "Yes."'
+
+'Must you really go?' rather regretfully. 'It would be so much nicer if
+you came to Rutherford with us. You know,' she continued affectionately,
+'I always miss you so much when you are away.'
+
+Michael gave her one of his quick looks, and then he picked up a smooth
+white stone that had attracted his attention.
+
+'I shall follow you in ten days--at least, that is my present intention,
+unless Stedman's business keeps me.'
+
+'But will not Kester be in your way?'
+
+'Not a bit; he will be a famous companion. He will have the run of my
+rooms, and when I am at the club or with the other fellows he will find
+a hundred ways of amusing himself.'
+
+'It will be such a treat to him.'
+
+'I want it to be a treat; he has not had much pleasure in his life, poor
+fellow! Do you know, Audrey, he has never really seen London. Won't he
+enjoy bowling along the Embankment in a hansom, and what do you suppose
+he will say to Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament? I mean to
+take him to the theatre. Actually he has never seen a play! We will
+have dinner at the Criterion, and I will get Fred Somers to join us.
+Well, what now?' regarding her with astonishment; for Audrey was looking
+at him, and her beautiful gray eyes were full of tears.
+
+'Because you are so kind,' she said a little huskily; 'because no one
+else ever did such kind, thoughtful things, and because you never think
+of yourself at all.'
+
+'Oh, come, you must not begin praising me after this fashion!' he said
+lightly; for he would not show her how much he was touched that there
+were actually tears in her eyes for him.
+
+'And I think it no wonder at all that Kester is so devoted to you.'
+
+'Booty!' exclaimed Michael sadly; and as the little creature jumped on
+his knee, he continued in a melancholy tone: 'Do you know, Booty, you
+have a rival? Someone else beside yourself dares to be devoted to your
+master. Ah, no wonder you wag your tail so feebly! "The moon loves many
+brooks, but the brooks love one moon"--it is an affecting image.'
+
+'Michael, I do wish you would be a little serious this last evening. I
+really mean it. Kester thinks more of you than he does of his own
+brother.'
+
+'Oh, he will be wiser some day,' returned Michael, with the utmost
+cheerfulness. 'You must make allowance for his youth and inexperience.
+He is an odd boy, rather precocious for his age, and his weak health has
+fostered his little peculiarities.'
+
+'You speak as though some apology were needed. You are very dense this
+evening, Michael. I believe I said I was not at all surprised at
+Kester's devotion, you have been so good to him.'
+
+'I think the air of this place is enervating,' replied Michael, jumping
+up from the parapet. 'I know people do not generally consider moorland
+air enervating; but mine is a peculiar constitution, and needs more
+bracing than other men's. Shall we walk back, my dear?' But as he gave
+her his hand to rise, the gentle melancholy of his smile smote her with
+a sudden sense of sadness, for it spoke of some hidden pain that even
+her sympathy could not reach; and she knew that his whimsical words only
+cloaked some vague uneasiness. 'Come, dear, come,' he continued; 'these
+Scotch twilights are somewhat damp and chilly. We will burn that pine
+log this evening, and we will sit round it and tell stories--eh,
+Audrey?'
+
+But, in spite of these cheerful words, Michael was the quietest of the
+group that evening, as he watched from his dusky corner, unperceived
+himself, the play of the firelight on one bright, earnest face. Audrey
+sat on the rug at her father's feet, with her head against his knee. It
+was a favourite position of hers.
+
+'Now, Daddy Glass-Eyes, it is your turn,' she said, using the old
+baby-name. 'Michael has turned disagreeable and has gone to sleep, so we
+will miss him. Kester, are you thinking of your story? It must be a nice
+creepy one, please.'
+
+'I think we ought all to go to bed early, John,' interrupted Mrs. Ross.
+'Audrey is in one of her sociable moods; but she forgets we have a long
+journey before us. Kester is looking as sleepy as possible.' And as Dr.
+Ross always acted on his wife's quiet hints, the fireside circle soon
+broke up.
+
+It had been arranged that the whole party should sleep two nights in
+town. Geraldine and Audrey had shopping to do, and both Dr. Ross and his
+son-in-law had business appointments to detain them. Audrey and her
+mother had tea with Michael one evening, and then they bade him and
+Kester good-bye.
+
+'You will tell Mollie all about me, will you not, Miss Ross?' Kester
+exclaimed excitedly. 'Tell her I am going to St. Paul's, and the
+National Gallery, and the British Museum. Fred Somers is going to pilot
+me about, as Captain Burnett has so much to do. Do you know Fred Somers,
+Miss Ross? He seems a nice sort of fellow.'
+
+Oh yes, Audrey knew all about Fred Somers. He was another _protege_ of
+Michael's; indeed, the whole Somers family considered themselves
+indebted to Captain Burnett.
+
+Fred's father was only a City clerk, and at one time his head had been
+very much below water. He was a good, weak sort of man; but he had not
+sufficient backbone, and when the tide sat dead against him he lost
+courage.
+
+'The man will die,' said the doctor. 'He has no stamina; he simply
+offers no resistance to the disease that is carrying him off. You should
+cheer him up a bit, Mrs. Somers--crying never mended a sick man yet.'
+For he was the parish doctor, and a little rough in his ways.
+
+'A man has no right to lose courage and to show the white feather when
+he has a wife and six children depending on him,' said Michael.
+
+Some chance--or rather say some providential arrangement--had brought
+him across their threshold. Michael came across all sorts of people in
+his London life, and, though his acquaintance among City clerks was
+rather limited, he had known Mr. Somers slightly.
+
+When Michael stepped up to that sick-bed with that wholesome rebuke on
+his tongue, but his heart very full of sympathy for the stricken man,
+Robert Somers' difficulties were practically over. The debts that were
+chafing the life out of him--debts incurred by sickness, by a hundred
+little disasters--were paid out of Michael's small means; and, despite
+his doctor's prophecy, Robert Somers rose from his bed a braver,
+stronger man.
+
+Michael never lost interest in the family. They would always be pinched
+and struggling, he knew--a City clerkship is not an El Dorado of riches,
+and growing boys and girls have to be clothed and educated. Michael took
+the eldest boy, Fred, under his wing--by some means or other he got him
+into Christ's Hospital. How Fred's little sisters admired those yellow
+stockings!--though it may be doubted whether they were not too warm a
+colour for Fred's private taste. Fred was a Grecian by this time--a big
+strapping fellow he looked beside Kester--with a freckled, intelligent
+face and a mop of dark hair. He was a great favourite of Audrey's, and
+she had once induced her mother to let him spend a fortnight at
+Woodcote. Dr. Ross also took a kindly interest in him.
+
+'Fred will make his mark one day. You are right, Michael,' he observed.
+'He has plenty of brains under that rough thatch of his. He will
+shoulder his way through the world. Christ's Hospital has turned out
+many a fine scholar, and Fred does not mean to be behind them.'
+
+Audrey bade good-bye to Michael somewhat reluctantly.
+
+'You will follow us in ten days, will you not?' she asked rather
+anxiously. 'Remember that London never suits you; you are always better
+at Rutherford, and it will be such a pity to lose your good
+looks--Scotland has done wonders for you. Percival was only saying so
+this morning.'
+
+'I shall be sure to come as soon as I have settled this troublesome
+piece of business,' he returned cheerfully. 'Take care of yourself, my
+Lady Bountiful, and do not get into mischief during your Mentor's
+absence.'
+
+But when the hansom had driven off, Michael did an unusual thing. He
+walked to a small oak-framed mirror that hung between the windows, and
+regarded himself with earnest scrutiny. He was alone; the two boys had
+started off in an omnibus to the National Gallery, and Michael had
+promised to lunch with a friend in Lincoln's Inn.
+
+'My good looks,' he soliloquised. 'I wonder if my health has really
+improved? She was right. I felt a different man in Scotland. I have not
+felt so well and strong since that Zulu slashed me--poor devil! I sent
+him to limbo. It is true the doctors were not hopeless; in time and with
+care, if I could only keep my nerves in order--that was what they said.
+Oh, if I could only believe them--if I could only feel the power for
+work--any sort of work--coming back to me, I would--I would----' He
+stopped and broke off the thread of his thoughts abruptly. 'What a fool
+I am! I will not let this temptation master me. If I were once to
+entertain such a hope, to believe it possible, I should work myself into
+a restless fever. Avaunt, Satanas! Sweet, subtle, most impossible of
+impossibilities--a sane man cannot be deluded. Good God! why must some
+men lead such empty lives?' For a moment the firm, resolute mouth
+twitched under the reddish-brown moustache, then Michael rang the bell
+and ordered a hansom.
+
+It was late on a September evening when Audrey drove through Rutherford.
+She leaned forward in the carriage a little eagerly as they passed the
+Gray Cottage--surely Mollie would be at the window! But no! the windows
+were blank; no girlish face was there to greet her, and with a slight
+feeling of disappointment she drew back again. But nothing could long
+spoil the joy of returning home.
+
+'Oh, mother, does it not all look lovely?' she exclaimed, later on that
+evening. She had been everywhere--to the stables, the poultry-yard, the
+dairy, and lastly to Mrs. Draper's room. The twilight was creeping over
+the gardens of Woodcote before Audrey had finished her rambles. She had
+been down to the lake, she had sat on 'Michael's bench,' she had looked
+at her favourite shrubs and flowers, and Dr. Ross smiled as he heard her
+gaily singing along the terraces.
+
+'Come in, you madcap!' he said good-humouredly. 'Do you know how heavy
+the dews are? There, I told you so; your dress is quite damp.'
+
+'What does it matter?' returned Audrey, with superb disdain. '"The rains
+of Marly do not wet!"--do you recollect that exquisite courtier-like
+speech?--so, no doubt, Woodcote dews are quite wholesome. Is it not
+delicious to be home again? And there is no more "Will you come ben?"
+from honest Jean, and "Will you have a sup of porridge, Miss Ross, or a
+few broth to keep out the cold?" "Home, home, there is no place like
+home!"' And then they heard her singing at the top of her fresh young
+voice, as she roamed through the empty rooms, some old ballad Michael
+had taught her:
+
+     'Oh, there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain,
+     Oh, there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain;
+     Though the heart of this world's as hard as a stane,
+     Yet there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain.'
+
+'Dear child!' observed her mother fondly. 'I do not think anyone ever
+was happier than our Audrey. She is like a sunbeam in the house, John;'
+and then they both paused to listen:
+
+     'Ye wealthy and wise in this fair world of ours,
+     When your fields wave wi' gowd, your gardens wi' flowers,
+     When ye bind up the sheaves, leave out a few grains
+     To the heart-broken widow who never complains.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+'THE LITTLE RIFT'
+
+     'And sigh that one thing only has been lent
+     To youth and age in common--discontent.'
+
+                              MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Audrey was very busy the next morning unpacking and settling a hundred
+things with her mother and Mrs. Draper. She had fully expected that
+Mollie would have made her appearance at her usual time; but when the
+luncheon-hour arrived, and still no Mollie, she felt a little perplexed.
+Kester had entrusted her with numerous messages, and she had now no
+resource but to go herself to the Gray Cottage and deliver them. Audrey
+was never touchy, never stood on her dignity as most people do; but the
+thought did cross her that for once Mollie had been a little remiss.
+
+'I would so much rather have seen her at Woodcote,' she said to herself,
+as she walked quickly down the High Street. Mrs. Ross was going up to
+Hillside to look after Geraldine, and Audrey had promised to join her
+there in an hour's time. 'I never can talk comfortably to Mollie at the
+Gray Cottage; Mrs. Blake always monopolises me so.'
+
+But Audrey carefully refrained from hinting, even to herself, the real
+reason for her reluctance. She had a curious dread of seeing Mr. Blake,
+an unaccountable wish to keep out of his way as much as possible; but
+not for worlds would she have acknowledged this.
+
+She opened the green gate, and Zack bounded out to meet her with his
+usual bark of welcome; but no Mollie followed him, only Biddy, looking
+more like a witch than ever, with a red silk handkerchief tied over her
+gray hair, hobbled across the passage.
+
+'The mistress and Miss Mollie are in the drawing-room,' she said,
+fixing her bright hawk-like eyes on Audrey. 'And how is it with
+yourself, Miss Ross?--you look as blooming as a rose before it is
+gathered. It is a purty compliment,' as Audrey laughed; 'but it is true,
+and others will be telling you so, Miss Ross, avick.'
+
+Audrey blushed a little, for there was a meaning look in the old woman's
+eyes. Then she ran lightly upstairs; the drawing-room door was half
+open, and she could hear Mollie's voice reading aloud; 'Pompey and
+Pharsalia' caught her ear; then she gave the door a little push, and
+Mollie's book dropped on the floor.
+
+'Miss Ross! oh, Miss Ross!' she exclaimed half hysterically, but she did
+not move from her place.
+
+It was Mrs. Blake who took Audrey's hands and kissed her airily on
+either cheek.
+
+'My dear Miss Ross!' she exclaimed, in her soft, impressive voice, 'this
+is almost too good of you. I told Mollie that I knew you would come. "Do
+you think she will have the heart to stay away when she knows that we
+are perfectly famished for a sight of her?" that was what I said when
+Mollie was plaguing me to let her go to Woodcote this morning.'
+
+'But I was expecting her, Mrs. Blake,' returned Audrey, drawing the girl
+to her side as she stood apart rather awkwardly. 'I thought it was
+unkind of Mollie to desert me the first morning. Every time the door
+opened I said to myself, "That is Mollie." I half made up my mind to be
+offended at last.'
+
+'There, mamma, I told you so!' observed Mollie rather piteously; 'I knew
+Miss Ross would be hurt; that is why I begged so hard to go.'
+
+'Poor mamma! she is always in the wrong,' returned Mrs. Blake, with a
+touch of petulance. 'I put it to you, Miss Ross: would it not have been
+utter want of consideration on my part to allow Mollie to hinder you
+with her chattering just when you were unpacking and so dreadfully busy?
+"Take my advice, and stop away until you are wanted," that is what I
+said to Mollie, and actually the foolish child got into a regular pet
+about it; yes, you may look ashamed of yourself, Mollie, but you know I
+said I should tell Miss Ross. You can see by her eyes how she has been
+crying, and all because I insisted you were not to be worried.'
+
+'Mollie never worries me,' returned Audrey, with a kind look at her
+favourite's flushed face.
+
+But she did not dare pursue the subject; she knew poor Mollie was often
+thwarted in her little plans. If her mother had a sudden caprice or whim
+to be gratified, Mollie was the one who must always set her own wishes
+aside--for whom any little disappointment was judged salutary. Perhaps
+the discipline did not really harm Mollie; her humility and
+unselfishness guarded her against any rankling bitterness.
+
+'Mamma never likes me to do things without her,' she said later on that
+afternoon. 'I think she is a little jealous of my going to you so much,
+Miss Ross; she was so angry when I asked to run across this morning,
+because she said I wanted you all to myself. I know I was silly to cry
+about it, but I was so sure you would be expecting me; and last night
+mamma made me come out with her, and I wanted to stay at home and watch
+for you: we went all the way to Brail; that is quite mamma's favourite
+walk now--and, oh, I was so tired.'
+
+'But you must not fret, Mollie; and of course you must do as your mother
+wishes: you know I shall always understand.'
+
+'Mamma says that you are her friend, and not mine,' returned Mollie,
+with big melancholy eyes; 'and that I ought not to put myself so
+forward: but you are my friend, too, are you not, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Of course I am, my dear little girl, just as Michael is Kester's
+friend; and now I must tell you some more about him.'
+
+But this was when she and Mollie were walking towards Hillside.
+
+Audrey had deftly changed the subject after Mrs. Blake's remonstrance;
+but as she talked she still held Mollie's hand. She felt very happy to
+be sitting in that pretty shady drawing-room again, watching the pigeons
+fluttering among the old arches. There was a bowl of dark crimson
+carnations on the little work-table, and a cluster of the same fragrant
+flowers relieved the sombreness of Mrs. Blake's black gown. She was
+looking handsomer than ever this afternoon; she wore a little lace
+kerchief over her dark glossy hair, and the delicate covering seemed to
+enhance her picturesque, Mary Queen of Scots beauty, and to heighten the
+brilliancy of her large dark eyes. Audrey had never seen her look so
+charming, and her soft playful manners completed the list of her
+fascinations. As usual, Audrey forgave her petulance and want of
+consideration for Mollie. It was difficult to find fault with Mrs.
+Blake; she was so gay and good-humoured, she so soon forgot anything
+that had ruffled her, she was so childlike and irresponsible, that one
+seemed to judge her by a separate code.
+
+'I must go!' exclaimed Audrey, starting up, when it had chimed the hour.
+She was in the midst of a description of one of their walking
+expeditions--an attempt to reach a lovely tarn in the heart of the
+hills. 'I must not wait any longer, as my mother will be expecting me.
+Mollie, put on your hat; you can walk with me to Hillside;' and then she
+hesitated.
+
+It was very strange that all this time Mr. Blake's name had not been
+mentioned. They had talked about Kester and Michael, but for once
+Cyril's name had not been on his mother's lips.
+
+'I hope your son enjoyed his holiday?' she asked, as she picked a little
+sprig of scented geranium.
+
+'I am afraid Cyril is not quite in the mood for enjoying himself,'
+returned Mrs. Blake in rather a peculiar tone. 'Mollie, run and put on
+your hat, as Miss Ross told you; and for goodness' sake do brush your
+hair. My boy is not looking like himself,' she continued when they were
+alone. 'I am rather uneasy about him; he has grown thin, and does not
+seem in his usual spirits.'
+
+'He wrote very cheerfully to Kester,' returned Audrey, taken aback at
+this.
+
+'Oh, letters never tell one anything,' replied Mrs. Blake impatiently.
+'I daresay you thought I was as happy as possible from mine, just
+because I must have my little jokes. We Blakes are all like that. I
+daresay, if Cyril were here, you would see nothing amiss with him; but
+you cannot blind a mother's eyes, Miss Ross.'
+
+'I am very sorry,' returned Audrey gravely; 'perhaps Cornwall did not
+agree with him; but he seemed very gay.'
+
+'Oh, as to that, he was gay enough; people always make so much of
+him--he has been a favourite all his life. I never knew any young man
+with so many friends. He has gone up to London now to bid good-bye to
+one of them who is going to India. We do not expect him back until quite
+late to-morrow.'
+
+'Indeed,' was Audrey's brief reply; but as she walked up the hill with
+Mollie she was sensible of a feeling of relief. She liked Mr. Blake, she
+had always liked him; but she had begun to find his quiet, persistent
+watchfulness a little embarrassing--she felt that it invaded the perfect
+freedom in which she delighted. Nevertheless, she was sensible of a
+vague curiosity to know why Mr. Blake was not in his usual
+spirits--could it be Miss Frances, after all?
+
+'Mamma sent me away because she wanted to talk about Cyril,' observed
+Mollie, with girlish shrewdness; 'she is worrying about him, because he
+looks grave, and does not talk quite so much as usual; but I am sure he
+is not ill. He was terribly vexed when Mr. Plumpton telegraphed for him.
+I don't think I ever saw Cyril so put out before. He was quite cross
+with mamma when she wanted to pack his big portmanteau. He declared he
+did not mean to stay away longer than one night; but mamma said she knew
+he could not be back until to-morrow evening. Just before he went away
+he asked what time you were expected, and----'
+
+'Never mind about that,' interrupted Audrey; 'we shall be at Hillside
+directly, and I have heard nothing about yourself. Were you very dull
+without Kester, Mollie? and were our letters long enough to satisfy
+you?'
+
+'Oh, they were just lovely!' returned Mollie enthusiastically; 'only
+mamma complained that everyone had forgotten her, for even Cyril did not
+write half so often. I used to read them over in the evening, and try
+and imagine what you were doing; and I was not always dull, because I
+had so much to do: but that Roman history--oh, Miss Ross!'
+
+'You have worked hard at that, have you not, Mollie?'
+
+'You would say so if you had heard us,' returned Mollie with a shrug;
+'we used to grind away at it until I was quite stupid. Sometimes I
+wanted to practise or to go on with my French. But no: mamma had
+promised Cyril, and there was no help for it. I have filled one
+note-book, but I am not sure I remember half. Mamma reads so fast, and
+she is always vexed if I do not understand; but,' with a look of relief,
+'I don't think we shall do so much now. Mamma has got her walking mood
+again.'
+
+Audrey tried not to smile. 'Next week we shall resume our lessons,
+Mollie.'
+
+'Oh, that will be delightful,'--standing still, for they were now
+entering the shrubberies of Hillside; 'somehow, no one teaches like you,
+Miss Ross: you never seem to grow impatient or to mind telling things
+over again; but mother is always in such a hurry, and she is so clever
+herself that she has no patience with a dunce like me.'
+
+'My dear Mollie, please do not call yourself names--you are certainly no
+dunce.'
+
+'I don't mean to be one any longer,' replied Mollie, brightening up.
+'Oh, Miss Ross, what do you think Cyril says! that I am not to help
+Biddy any more, and that we are to have a woman in to do the rough work.
+I don't think mamma was quite pleased when he talked about it. She said
+it was uncalled-for extravagance, and that we really could not afford
+it; that a little work did not hurt me, and that I ought to be glad to
+make myself useful. Mamma was almost annoyed with Cyril, but he always
+knows how to soothe her down. Of course it will be as he wishes, and
+mamma has promised to speak to you about a woman; and so I shall have
+plenty of time to do my lessons; and it will be my own fault if I am a
+dunce now,' finished Mollie, with a close hug, as the thick shrubs
+screened them from any prying eyes.
+
+'Poor little soul! I must help her all I can,' thought Audrey, as she
+walked on to the house. 'I am glad her brother takes her part;' and then
+her brother-in-law met her in the porch and took her into the
+morning-room, where the two ladies were sitting, and where Geraldine
+welcomed her as though months, and not hours, had separated them.
+
+Audrey's first visit had always been paid to the O'Briens; so the
+following afternoon she started off for Brail as a matter of course.
+
+'Perhaps you will come and have tea with mother, Gage,' she had said on
+bidding her sister good-bye; 'my Brail afternoons always keep me out
+until dinner-time;' and Geraldine had generously assented to this. She
+admired Audrey's benevolence in walking all those miles to see her old
+friend; the whole family took a lively interest in honest Tom O'Brien,
+though it must be allowed that Mrs. Baxter was by no means a favourite.
+
+Audrey would have enjoyed her walk more if she could have kept her
+thoughts free from Mr. Blake; but, unfortunately, the long grassy lanes
+she was just entering only recalled the time when he had carried Booty
+and had walked with her to the gate of Woodcote; and she found herself
+wondering, in a vexed manner, as to the cause of the gravity that had
+excited his mother's uneasiness.
+
+But she grew impatient with herself presently.
+
+'After all, what does it matter to me?' she thought, as she stopped to
+gather some red leaves. 'I daresay it was only Miss Frances, after
+all.'
+
+And then she recoiled with a sort of shock, for actually within a few
+feet of her was a tall figure in a brown tweed coat. She had been so
+busy with her thoughts and the red and yellow leaves that she had not
+seen Mr. Blake leaning against the gate that led into the ploughed
+field. She might even have passed him, if he had not started up and
+confronted her.
+
+'Miss Ross,' grasping her hand, 'please let me gather those for you;
+they are too difficult for you to reach--the ditch is so wide. How many
+do you want? Do you care for that bit of barberry?'
+
+'Thank you; I think I have enough now,' returned Audrey very gravely.
+
+She was quite unprepared for this meeting. She had seen the flash of joy
+in his eyes as he sprang forward to meet her, and she was annoyed to
+feel that her own cheeks were burning. And she was clear-sighted enough
+to notice something else--that Mr. Blake was talking eagerly and
+gathering the coloured leaves at random, as though he hardly knew what
+he was doing, and that, after that first look, he was avoiding her eye,
+as though he were afraid that he had betrayed himself. Audrey's maidenly
+consciousness was up in arms in a moment. The gleam in Cyril's eyes had
+opened hers. Some instinct of self-defence made her suddenly entrench
+herself in stiffness; the soft graciousness that was Audrey's chief
+charm seemed to desert her, and for once in her life she was a little
+abrupt.
+
+'There is no need to gather any more, thank you. I have all I want, and
+I am in a great hurry;' and she held out her hand for the leaves.
+
+But Cyril withheld them.
+
+'Let me carry them for you,' he returned, evidently trying to speak as
+usual; but his voice was not quite in order. 'I know where you are
+going--to that pretty, old-fashioned cottage with the jasmine-covered
+porch; it is not far, and I have not seen you for so long.' Then he
+stopped suddenly, as though something in Audrey's manner arrested him.
+'That is, if you do not object,' he finished, with a pleading look.
+
+But for once Audrey was obdurate.
+
+'Thank you, I would rather carry them myself. There is no need to take
+you out of your way.'
+
+Audrey felt that her tone was cold--that she was utterly unlike herself;
+but her one thought was to get rid of him. But she need not have feared
+Cyril's importunity. He drew back at once, and put the leaves in her
+hand without speaking; but he turned very pale, and there was a hurt
+look in his eyes. Audrey put out her hand to him, but he did not seem to
+see it; he only muttered something that sounded like 'Good-morning,' as
+he lifted his cap and went back to the gate. Audrey walked on very fast,
+but her cheeks would not cool, and a miserable feeling of discomfort
+harassed her. She was vexed with him, but still more with herself. Why
+need she have taken alarm so quickly? It was not like her to be so
+missish and disagreeable. Why had she been so cold, so unfriendly, just
+because he seemed a little too pleased to see her?
+
+And now she had hurt him terribly--she was quite sure of that--she who
+never willingly offended anyone. He had been too proud, too gentlemanly,
+to obtrude himself where he was evidently not wanted; but his pained,
+reproachful look as he drew back would haunt her for the rest of the
+day. And, then, how splendidly handsome he had looked! She had once
+likened him to a Greek god, but it may be doubted whether even the
+youthful Apollo had seemed more absolutely perfect when he revealed
+himself in human form to some Athenian votary, than Cyril Blake in the
+glory of his young manhood. Audrey had not recognised this so keenly
+before.
+
+'I must make it up to him somehow. I cannot bear to quarrel with anyone.
+I would rather do anything than hurt his feelings,' she thought; and it
+needed all her excellent common-sense to prevent her from running back
+to say a kind word to him.
+
+'I was in a hurry--I was too abrupt; I did not mean to be unkind'--this
+was what she longed to say to him. 'Please come with me as far as the
+cottage, and tell me all you have been doing.' Well, and what withheld
+her from such a natural course--from making her amends in this graceful
+and generous fashion? Simply that same maidenly instinct of
+self-preservation. She did not go back; she dare not trust herself with
+Cyril Blake, because she was afraid of him, and perhaps--though this was
+not quite so clear to her--she was afraid of herself. But, all the same,
+she was very miserable--for doing one's duty does not always make one
+happy--and she felt the joy of her home-coming was already marred; for,
+with a person of Audrey's temperament, there is no complete enjoyment if
+she were not in thorough harmony with everyone. One false note, one
+'little rift within the lute,' and the whole melody is spoiled. So
+Audrey's gaiety seemed all quenched that afternoon, and though her old
+friend testified the liveliest satisfaction at the sight of her, and
+Priscilla could not make enough of her, she was conscious that, as far
+as her own pleasure was concerned, the visit was a failure.
+
+But she was aware that no one but herself was conscious of this fact.
+Certainly not honest Tom O'Brien, as he sat smoking his pipe in the
+porch, and listening to her descriptions of Highland scenery with a
+beaming face; neither was Mrs. Baxter a keen observer, as she testified
+by her parting speech.
+
+'You have done father a world of good, Miss Ross,' she said, as she
+walked down to the little gate with Audrey. 'I think there is no one he
+so loves to see, or who cheers him up in the same way as you do. You are
+young, you see, and young people take more cheerful views of life; and
+it is easy to see you have not a care on you. Not that I begrudge you
+your happiness, for no one deserves it more; and long may it continue,
+Miss Ross,' finished Mrs. Baxter, with her usual mournfulness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+'HE IS VERY BRAVE'
+
+     'Ah! life grows lovely where you are;
+       Only to think of you gives light
+       To my dark heart; within whose night
+     Your image, though you hide afar,
+     Glows like a lake-reflected star.'
+
+                              MATHILDE BLIND.
+
+
+For the first time Audrey closed the little gate of Vineyard Cottage
+with a sense of relief that her visit was over. The two hours she had
+just passed had been quite an ordeal to her. True, she had exerted
+herself to some purpose: she had talked and amused her old friend; she
+had partaken of Mrs. Baxter's cakes; she had even summoned up a
+semblance of gaiety that had wholly deceived them. But all the time her
+heart had been heavy within her, and her remembrance of Cyril's grieved
+look came between her and enjoyment.
+
+It had been a lovely afternoon when she had started for her walk, but
+now some heavy clouds were obscuring the blue sky. The air felt heavy
+and oppressive, and Audrey quickened her steps, fearing lest a storm
+should overtake her in the long unsheltered lanes that still lay between
+her and home. She drew her breath a little as she approached the place
+where she had parted with Cyril more than two hours ago. Then she gave a
+great start, and again the blood rushed to her face, for through a gap
+in the hedge she could see a brown tweed coat quite plainly. He was
+still there--still in the same position. She could see the line of his
+shoulders as he stooped a little over the gate, with the peak of his cap
+drawn over his eyes.
+
+Audrey slackened her pace. She felt a little breathless and giddy. She
+would have to pass him quite close, and, of course, if he meant to speak
+to her----But no: though he heard her footsteps, and half turned his
+head and seemed to listen, he did not move his arms from the gate. He
+evidently meant to take no advantage, to let her pass him if she wished
+to do so. Audrey could read this determination in his averted face. Most
+likely he wished her to think that his abstraction was too great to
+allow him to notice her light footfall; he would make it easy for her to
+pass him--a man's eyes can only see what they are looking at. But this
+time Audrey's prudence counselled her in vain; her soft heart would not
+allow her to go past him as a stranger. She stopped and looked at him;
+but Cyril did not turn his head.
+
+'Mr. Blake,' she said gently; and then he did move slightly.
+
+'I am not in your way, I hope,' he said rather coldly. 'I did not know
+it was so late, or I would have gone back. Please do not let me keep
+you, Miss Ross; I am afraid there will be a storm directly.'
+
+'In that case you had better come with me,' she returned, trying to
+speak with her usual friendly ease. But his proud, sad look rather
+daunted her. How could she leave him and go on her way, when he seemed
+so utterly cast down and miserable; and it was all her fault? 'Please do
+not shake your head, Mr. Blake. I know you are hurt with me because I
+was rather abrupt just now; but I meant nothing at all, only that I was
+in a hurry, and----'
+
+'That you did not wish for my company,' he added bitterly.
+
+'Oh, Mr. Blake!'
+
+'You are right--quite right,' he went on, in a tone that pierced
+Audrey's heart, it was so hopeless, so full of pain; and now he did
+place himself at her side. 'I do not blame you in the least; it was the
+truest kindness. I can see that now. It is not your fault that I have
+been a fool. Miss Ross, I wished you to pass; I never meant to speak or
+to obtrude myself on you, but you stopped of your own accord.'
+
+'I wished to apologise to you for my abruptness. I did not like you to
+think me unkind.'
+
+'You are never unkind, you could not be if you tried,' he returned in
+the same passionate tone; 'you are only so absolutely true. You saw what
+I ought never to have shown you, and you thought it only right to check
+me. Yes, I was hurt for a moment, I will allow it. Perhaps in some sort
+of sense I am hurt now. I suppose a man may own to being hurt when his
+heart is half broken.'
+
+'Please, please do not talk so.'
+
+'I will promise never to talk so again,' he returned with sad humility;
+'but I have gone too far to stop now.'
+
+'No, oh no!' trying to check him; but she might as well have tried to
+check a river that had broken bonds. For once Cyril determined that he
+would be heard.
+
+'It is your own fault,' he returned, looking at her; 'you should have
+passed on and left me to my misery. Yes, I am miserable; and you have
+made me so: and yet for all that you are not to be blamed. How could I
+see you, how could I be with you, and not love you? I have loved you
+from the very first hour I saw you.'
+
+'Oh, hush, hush!' Audrey was half sobbing. There were great tears
+rolling down her face; she could hardly bear to hear him or to look at
+him, his face was so white and strained.
+
+'I must always love you,' he went on in the same low concentrated voice.
+'I have never seen anyone like you; there is not another girl in the
+world who would do as you are doing. How can I help losing my heart to
+you? No man could, in my position.'
+
+'I am very sorry,' she murmured.
+
+'Do not be sorry'--and then he saw her tears, and his voice softened
+from its vehemence and became very gentle. 'You are so kind that I know
+you would spare me this pain if you could--but it is not in your power;
+neither is it in mine. Do not be afraid of me,' he went on quickly, as
+she would have spoken. 'Remember I am asking you for nothing. I expect
+nothing. What right have I to aspire to such as you? Even if I have
+dared to dream, my dreams are at an end now, when you have shown me so
+plainly----' He stopped and turned aside his face, but no words could
+have been so eloquent as that silence.
+
+'Mr. Blake, will you let me say something? I am grieved, grieved to the
+heart, that this should have happened. If I could have prevented it, not
+a word of all this should have been spoken; but it is too late to say so
+now.'
+
+'Far, far too late!'
+
+'So we must make the best of it. I must try to forget all that has
+passed, and, Mr. Blake, you must promise me to do the same.'
+
+'I have promised,' he returned proudly. 'I promised you of my own accord
+that I would never talk to you in this way again; but you must not ask
+anything more of me.'
+
+'May I not?' in rather a faltering voice.
+
+'It would be useless,' he replied quickly. 'I can never leave off loving
+you. I would part with my life first. I think I am not one of those men
+who could ever love twice. I am young, still something tells me this;
+but all the same you have nothing to fear from me. I know your position
+and mine.'
+
+'You must not speak as though we were not equal,' she said, in her
+desire to comfort him and raise him up from his despondency; 'it is not
+that. What does one's poverty or wealth matter?'
+
+'No, it is not that,' he answered, with a significance that made her
+lower her eyes; 'in one sense we are equals, for one cannot be more or
+less than a gentleman, and when one has youth and strength, and a
+moderate amount of talents, one can always raise one's self to the level
+of the woman one loves. And if I had thought that you could ever have
+cared for me----' His voice trembled; he could not proceed.
+
+'Mr. Blake, I must beg, I do entreat you to say no more.' Audrey's lips
+were quivering; she looked quite pale. At that moment she could bear no
+more.
+
+'Forgive me,' he said remorsefully. 'I was thinking more of myself than
+you. I am trying you too much.'
+
+She could not deny this, but with her usual unselfishness she strove
+again for some comforting word.
+
+'It will be as though you had not spoken,' she said, in so low a voice
+that he had to stoop to hear her. 'It will be sacred, quite sacred; do
+not let it spoil everything--we--I have been so happy; let us try to
+remain good friends.'
+
+'I will try my best, but it will be very hard.' Perhaps, if she had seen
+his face that moment, she would have known that what she asked was
+impossible. How could he be friends with this girl? Even while he
+assented to that innocent request he knew it could never be.
+
+'Miss Ross,' he said suddenly, for his position was becoming too
+difficult for him, and it was his duty to shield her as much as
+possible, 'we are just in the town, and perhaps it would be better for
+me to drop behind a little. It will not do for people to notice; and now
+the rain is beginning, and if you do not hurry on you will be wet.'
+
+'Very well,' she returned; and then rather timidly she put out her hand
+to him. Cyril did not ignore it this time; he held it fast for a moment.
+
+'You have been good, very patient with me,' he said rather huskily.
+'Thank you for that, as well as for everything else: and then he stepped
+aside and waited for her to leave him.
+
+Audrey's limbs were trembling; she had never felt so agitated in her
+life. She hurried on, panting a little with her haste; but the drops
+fell faster and faster, and just at the entrance to the town she was
+obliged to take refuge in a shed by the roadside. The street was dark,
+and she knew no one could see her. She would have time to recover
+herself a little before she had to answer all her mother's anxious
+questions. There was a carpenter's bench and a pile of planks; she sat
+down on them, and looked out at the heavy torrents of rain. By and by
+Cyril passed, but he did not notice her; he was walking very fast and
+his head was erect, as though he were not conscious of the rain beating
+down on him. Audrey shrank back a little as she saw him. 'He is young,
+but he is strong,' she said to herself; 'he is almost as strong as
+Michael;' and then her tears flowed again, but she wiped them away a
+little impatiently. 'I must be strong, too, for his sake as well as my
+own; it will never do for people to find out his secret. He must be
+spared as much as possible. I must help him all I can.' But as she
+argued herself into calmness she told herself again and again how
+thankful she was that Michael was away. Michael was so observant, so
+clear-sighted, that it was impossible to hoodwink him. He had a terrible
+habit of going straight to the point, of putting questions that one
+could hardly evade. He would have seen in a moment that she had been
+crying, and any refusal on her part to satisfy his inquiries would only
+have deepened his suspicions. 'I could not have faced Michael,' she
+thought, as the rain suddenly stopped and she stepped out into the wet
+gleaming roads.
+
+Audrey played her part in the conversation so badly that night that Mrs.
+Ross observed, uneasily, that she was sure Audrey had taken a chill:
+
+'For she is quite flushed, John,' she continued anxiously, 'and I
+noticed her shiver more than once. She has overheated herself in that
+long walk, and then being caught in that heavy rain has done the
+mischief.'
+
+Dr. Ross looked at his daughter. Perhaps, in spite of his short-sight,
+he was more observant than his wife, for he took the girl's face between
+his hands:
+
+'Go to bed, my child,' he said kindly, 'and I will finish that game of
+chess with your mother;' and Audrey, with a grateful kiss, obeyed him.
+But as Dr. Ross placed himself opposite his wife he seemed a little
+absent, as though he were listening in vain for something. For it was
+Audrey's habit to sing snatches of some gay tune as she mounted the
+stairs. But to-night there was no 'Widow Miller'; it was the Doctor who
+hummed the refrain to himself, as he captured an unwary pawn:
+
+     'When ye bind up the sheaves, leave out a few grains
+     To the heart-broken widow who never complains.'
+
+Audrey felt that night as though she should never sing again--as though
+she had committed some crime that must for ever separate her from her
+old happy self.
+
+To most people this remorse for an unconscious fault would have seemed
+morbid and exaggerated. Thousands of girls have to inflict this sort of
+pain at least once in their lives; the wrong man loves them, and the
+disastrous 'No' must be spoken. Audrey had not even said 'No,' for
+nothing had been asked her--she had only had to listen to a declaration
+of love, an honest, manly confession, that had been wrung from the
+speaker's lips. Wherein, then, did the blame consist? and why was Audrey
+shedding such bitter tears as she sat by her window that night looking
+over the dark garden? For a hundred complex reasons, too involved and
+intricate to disentangle in one brief hour.
+
+Audrey was accusing herself of blindness--of wilful and foolish
+blindness. She ought to have seen, she must have seen, to what all this
+was tending. Again and again Mr. Blake had shown her quite plainly the
+extent of her influence over him. Could she not have warned him in time
+to prevent this most unhappy declaration? Would it not have been kinder
+to have drawn back in the first months of their intimacy, and have
+interposed some barrier of dignified reserve that would have kept him
+silent for ever? But no! she had drawn him on: not by coquetry--Audrey
+was far too high-minded to coquet with any man--but simply by the warm
+friendliness of her manner. She had liked his company; she had accepted
+his attentions, not once had she repulsed him; and the consequence was
+his attachment had grown and increased in intensity day by day, until it
+had overmastered him. He had said that his heart was almost broken, and
+it was her fault. What right had she to be so kind to him, until her
+very softness and graciousness had fed his wild hopes? Was it not true
+when he had implied that his misery lay at her door?
+
+Audrey felt as though her own heart was broken that night--such a
+passion of pity and remorse swept over her. What would she not give to
+undo it all!
+
+'If I could only bear some of his suffering,' she thought, 'if I could
+only comfort him, I should not care what became of myself. I would
+sooner bear anything than incur this awful responsibility of spoiling a
+life;' and Audrey wept again.
+
+But even at this miserable crisis she shrank from questioning herself
+too closely. A sort of terror and strange beating at the heart assailed
+her if she tried to look into her own thoughts. Was there no subtle
+sweetness in the knowledge that she was so beloved? No wish, lying deep
+down in her heart, that it might have been possible to comfort him?
+
+'It would not do--it would not do. I am sure of him, but not of myself,'
+she thought, 'and it would make them all so unhappy. If I could only
+think it right----' and then she stopped, and there was a sad, sad look
+in her eyes. 'I will not think of it any more to-night.' And then she
+knelt and, in her simple girlish way, prayed that God would forgive her,
+for she had been wrong, miserably wrong; and would comfort him, and make
+it possible for them to remain friends: 'for I do not wish to lose him,'
+thought Audrey, as she laid her head on her pillow that, for once in her
+bright young life, seemed sown with thorns.
+
+It seemed to Audrey as though she had never passed a more uncomfortable
+three weeks than those that followed that unfortunate talk in the Brail
+lanes; and, in spite of all her efforts to appear as though nothing had
+happened, her looks and gravity were noticed by both Mrs. Ross and
+Geraldine.
+
+'I told your father that it was a chill,' observed Mrs. Ross, on more
+than one occasion. 'She is growing thin, and her eyes are so heavy in
+the morning. There is nothing worse than a suppressed cold,' she went on
+anxiously, for even a small ailment in one of her children always called
+forth her motherly solicitude.
+
+But Geraldine held another opinion. Audrey never took cold; she had
+often got wet through in Scotland, and it had never hurt her. She
+thought it more probable that Audrey was troubled about
+something--perhaps she missed Michael, or--then she paused, and looked
+at her mother with significance--perhaps, who knows? she might even be a
+little hurt at Mr. Blake's desertion. For a certain little bird--that
+fabulous winged purveyor of gossip, dear to the feminine mind--had
+whispered into young Mrs. Harcourt's ear a most curious story. It was
+said that Mr. Blake had fallen deeply in love with a Cornish beauty, a
+certain Miss Frances Hackett, and that his moody looks were all owing to
+this.
+
+'Edith has seen her,' went on Geraldine, as she repeated this story with
+immense relish; 'she is a pretty little thing, a dark-eyed brunette. The
+Hacketts are very wealthy people, and they say Miss Frances will have a
+few thousand pounds of her own; so he will be lucky if he gets her.
+Perhaps the pere Hackett is obdurate, and this may account for Mr.
+Blake's gloom--for he is certainly very bad company just now.'
+
+'Your father thinks he looks very ill; he was speaking to me about him
+last night. It is wonderful what a fancy he has taken to him.'
+
+'I think we all like him,' returned Geraldine, who could afford to
+praise him now her fears about Audrey were removed. 'Miss Frances might
+do worse for herself. He is very clever--a rising young man, as Percy
+says--and then he is so handsome: a girl might well lose her heart to
+him.'
+
+Mrs. Ross was quite willing to regard Mr. Blake as Miss Frances'
+suitor--an unhappy lover was sure to excite her warmest sympathy--but
+she was a little shocked and scandalised at Geraldine's hint.
+
+'My dear,' she said, in a more dignified tone than she usually employed
+to her eldest daughter, 'I do not think you have any right to say such a
+thing of your sister. Audrey is the last girl in the world to fancy any
+man was in love with her, or to trouble herself because he chose to fall
+in love with some one else. I have often seen her and Mr. Blake
+together--he has dined here a dozen times--and her manner has always
+been perfectly friendly with him, as frank as possible--just as it is to
+Michael.'
+
+'I thought she seemed a little constrained and uncomfortable last night
+when Mr. Blake came into the room,' returned Geraldine, who certainly
+seemed to notice everything; but she knew her mother too well to say
+more just then.
+
+With all her softness, Mrs. Ross had a great deal of womanly dignity,
+and nothing would have ruffled her more than to be made to believe that
+one of her girls cared for a man who had just given his heart to another
+woman, and that Audrey--her bright, unselfish Audrey--should be that
+girl. No, she would never have been brought to believe it.
+
+Audrey was quite aware that her sister's eyes were upon her, and she
+exerted herself to the utmost on every occasion when Geraldine was
+present. But gaiety was very far from her, and she felt each day, with a
+certain sickness of heart, that her burden was growing too heavy for
+her. Her position with regard to Mr. Blake was becoming more difficult.
+In spite of his efforts to see as little as possible of her,
+circumstances were perpetually throwing them together. Every day they
+met at luncheon; she must still keep her seat between him and her
+father, but how differently that hour passed now! Instead of that eager,
+low-toned talk, that merry interchange of daily news and plans, Cyril
+would be absorbed in his carving, in his supervision of the boys; he
+seemed to have no leisure to talk to Audrey. A grave remark upon the
+weather, a brief question or two, and then he turned to his
+fellow-master, Mr. Greville. Audrey never tried to divert his attention;
+she listened to the two young men a little wearily. Politics could still
+interest him, she thought; yes, politics were always safe. Once, when he
+had no excuse to offer--for he was very ready with his excuses--he
+joined them at the family dinner. Audrey never passed such a miserable
+evening. She sat opposite him; there was no other guest to break the
+awkwardness--only Mr. Blake and her mother and father and herself.
+
+It was the first time she had been compelled to look at him, and she was
+painfully struck with the alteration in him. Her father was right; he
+certainly looked ill. He was thinner, older, and there were dark lines
+under his eyes. Just at that moment Cyril seemed to become aware of her
+scrutiny; their eyes met, but it was Audrey who blushed and looked
+embarrassed. Cyril did not flinch, only his right hand contracted under
+the table-cloth. She played chess with him afterwards. There was no help
+for it; Dr. Ross had proposed it. Audrey was so nervous that she played
+shamefully, and lost her queen at the third move.
+
+'How stupid of me!' she said, trying to laugh it off.
+
+Cyril looked at her very gravely.
+
+'I am afraid you find this a bore,' he said, with such evident
+understanding of her nervousness that the tears came to her eyes.
+
+When they had played a little longer, he suddenly jumbled the pieces
+together.
+
+'It is unfair to take advantage of you any longer,' he said, jumping up;
+'no one can play without a queen, and you have lost your castles and one
+of your knights, and I was just going to take the other. It is only
+trying your patience for nothing; the game is mine.'
+
+'Yes, it is yours,' returned Audrey, in rather a melancholy voice.
+
+Why had he ended it so abruptly? Could he have noticed how her hand
+shook? How very nervous she had been! She did not dare look at him as he
+bade her good-night.
+
+'I must go,' she heard him say to Dr. Ross. 'I have work to finish;' and
+then he went out, and she heard the door close behind him.
+
+'Is it always to be like this?' thought Audrey, as she stood by her
+window. 'Will he never speak to me or look at me again in the old way?
+To-night he went away to spare me, because he saw how uncomfortable I
+was. He is very brave; I suppose a man's pride helps him. Somehow, I
+think it is easier for him than me. Perhaps I am different from other
+women, but I always feel as though I would rather bear pain myself than
+inflict it on another person.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+'NO, YOU HAVE NOT SPARED ME'
+
+     'Thy word unspoken thou canst any day
+     Speak; but thy spoken ne'er again unsay.'
+
+                        _Eastern Proverb_--TRENCH.
+
+
+Michael was still away. The business that detained him was not to be
+settled as easily as he had expected; there were complications--a host
+of minor difficulties. He was unwilling to return until things were
+definitely arranged.
+
+'I am too proud of my present position,' he wrote to Audrey; 'the mere
+fact that I am of some use in the world, and that one human being feels
+my advice helpful to him, quite reconciles me to my prolonged absence.
+Of course I mean to keep Kester with me. He is perfectly happy, and
+fairly revels in London sights. He and Fred are thick as thieves.
+Abercrombie saw him the other day--you know who I mean: Donald
+Abercrombie. He is a consulting physician now, and is making quite a
+name for himself. He has good-naturedly promised to look into the case.
+He says, from the little he has seen, he is sure the boy has been
+neglected, and that care and medical skill could have done much for him
+in the beginning. Abercrombie is just the fellow to interest himself
+thoroughly in a case like Kester's, and I have great hopes of the
+result. I have written to his brother, but perhaps you would be wise to
+say as little as possible to Mrs. Blake. She is far too sanguine by
+nature; and it would never do to excite hopes that might never be
+gratified. Mr. Blake is of a different calibre; he will look at the
+thing more sensibly.'
+
+Audrey sighed as she laid aside Michael's letter. She seemed to miss him
+more every day, and yet she was quite willing that his absence should be
+prolonged. Michael would have noticed her want of spirits in a moment;
+she would never have been free from his affectionate surveillance. At a
+distance everything was so much easier; she could write cheerfully; she
+could fill the sheets with small incidents and matters of local
+interest, with pleasant inquiries about himself and Kester.
+
+Nevertheless, Michael's face grew graver over each letter. He could not
+have told himself what was lacking to his entire satisfaction, only some
+strange subtle chord of sympathy, as delicate as it was unerring, warned
+him that all was not right with the girl.
+
+'She is not as bright as usual,' he thought. 'Audrey's letters are
+generally overflowing with fun. There is a grave, almost a forced, tone
+about this last one. And she so seldom mentions the Blakes.'
+
+Audrey had certainly avoided the Gray Cottage during the last three
+weeks; even Mollie's lessons were irksome to her. Mollie's tongue was
+not easily silenced. In spite of all her efforts, her cheeks often burnt
+at the girl's innocent loquacity. Mollie was for ever making awkward
+speeches or asking questions that Audrey found difficult to answer; she
+would chatter incessantly about her mother and Cyril.
+
+'Mamma is so dreadfully worried about Cyril!' she said once. 'She wants
+him to speak to Dr. Powell; she is quite sure that he is ill. He hardly
+eats anything--at least, he has no appetite--and mamma says that is so
+strange in a young man. And he walks about his room half the night;
+Biddy hears him. You recollect that evening he dined at Woodcote? Well,
+he never came home that night until past twelve, and Biddy declares that
+his bed was not slept in at all; he must just have thrown himself down
+on it for an hour or two. And he had such a bad headache the next
+morning.'
+
+Audrey walked to the piano and threw it open.
+
+'I am very sorry your brother is not well,' she said in rather a forced
+voice, as she flecked a little dust off the legs. 'Mollie, I think
+Caroline has forgotten to dust the piano this morning. Will you hand me
+that feather-brush, please? I want you to try this duet with me; it is
+such a pretty one!' And after that Mollie's fingers were kept so hard at
+work that she found no more opportunity for talking about Cyril.
+
+Another time, as Audrey looked over her French exercise, she heard a
+deep sigh, and glancing up from the book, found Mollie gazing at her
+with round sorrowful eyes.
+
+'Well, what now?' she asked a little sharply.
+
+'Oh, I am so sorry, Miss Ross!' returned Mollie, faltering and turning
+red; 'I am so dreadfully sorry, Miss Ross, that Cyril has offended you.
+I thought you were such good friends, but now----' She stopped, somewhat
+abashed at Audrey's displeased expression.
+
+'My dear Mollie, I have never been really vexed with you before; but you
+will annoy me excessively if you talk such nonsense. I am not in the
+least offended with your brother--whatever made you say such a
+thing?--and we are perfectly good friends.'
+
+Audrey spoke with much dignity as she took up her pen again.
+
+Poor Mollie looked very much frightened.
+
+'Oh dear, Miss Ross,' she said penitently, 'you are not really cross
+with me, are you? It was not my own idea; only mamma said last night
+that she was sure you were offended about something, for you never come
+to see us now, and your manner was so different when she spoke to you
+after chapel on Sunday; and then she said perhaps Cyril had offended
+you.'
+
+'I tell you it is all nonsense, Mollie!'
+
+'Yes, but I am sure there is something,' returned Mollie, half crying,
+for Audrey had never been impatient with her before. 'Cyril will never
+let me talk to him about you; he gets up and leaves the room when mamma
+begins wondering why you never come. Cyril was quite cross when she
+asked him to give you a message the other day. "It is more in Mollie's
+line," he said; "I never can remember messages," and he walked away, and
+mamma cried, and said she could not think what had happened to him--that
+he had never been cross with her in his life before; but that now she
+hardly dared open her lips to him, he took her up so.'
+
+Audrey sighed wearily, then she gave Mollie a comforting little pat.
+
+'Mollie, dear,' she said kindly, 'I did not mean to be cross with you;
+but you do say such things, you know, and really you are old enough to
+know better'--and as Mollie only looked at her wonderingly--'oh, go
+away!--you are a dear little soul; but you talk as though you were a
+baby; no one is offended. If your brother is not well, why cannot you
+leave him in peace? I don't think you understand that men never like to
+be questioned about their ailments; they are not like women. Cornwall
+certainly did not agree with him.'
+
+'Do you think it is only that? Oh, I won't say another word if you will
+only not be cross with me;' and Mollie relieved her feelings by one of
+her strangling hugs.
+
+Mollie was quite used to people finding fault with her and telling her
+she was a goose. When Audrey kissed her, she sat down and copied her
+exercise in a humble and contrite spirit; it was Audrey who felt sad and
+spiritless the rest of the day. 'It has gone deeper than I thought; it
+has gone very deep,' she said with a sort of shiver, as she walked up to
+Hillside that afternoon.
+
+But a far worse ordeal was before Audrey--one that threw all Mollie's
+girlish chatter into the shade. A few days afterwards she received a
+little note from Mrs. Blake.
+
+     'MY DEAR MISS ROSS,' it began,
+
+     'I am nearly desperate. What have Mollie or I done that we should
+     be sent to Coventry after this fashion? At least, not Mollie--I am
+     wrong there: Mollie still basks in the light of your smiles, is
+     still allowed to converse with you; it is only I who seem to be
+     debarred from such privileges. Now, my dear creature, what can you
+     mean by keeping away from us like this? I was at Woodcote
+     yesterday, but you had flown. I had to sit and chat with Mrs. Ross
+     instead; she is delightful, but she is not her daughter; no one but
+     yourself can ever fill your place; no one can be Miss Ross. Now
+     will you make us amends for all this unfriendliness? If you will
+     only come to tea with me to-morrow I will promise you full
+     forgiveness and the warmest of welcomes.
+
+     'Yours affectionately but resentfully,      M. BLAKE.'
+
+Audrey wrote a pretty playful little answer to this. She was sorry to be
+accused of unfriendliness, but nothing was farther from her thoughts;
+she was very busy, very much engaged. Relays of parents had been
+interviewing them at Woodcote; her sister had not been well, and all her
+afternoons had been spent at Hillside. Mrs. Blake must be lenient; she
+would come soon, very soon, and so on. Mrs. Blake was more formidable
+than Mollie, and Audrey was determined to delay her visit as long as
+possible. Just now she had a good excuse. Geraldine was a little
+delicate and ailing, and either she or her mother went daily to
+Hillside.
+
+Audrey breathed more freely when she had sent off her note; she had
+given it into Cyril's hand at luncheon--a sudden impulse made her choose
+that mode of delivery.
+
+'I wish you would give this to your mother,' she said, addressing him
+suddenly as he sat beside her. 'She wants me to have tea with her
+to-morrow; but it is impossible, I have so much to do just now.'
+
+'I could have told her; there was no need for you to write or to
+trouble yourself in any way. I am afraid my mother is rather exacting;
+it is a Blake foible.' He smiled as he spoke, and there was no special
+meaning in his tone; he seemed to take it as a matter of course that
+Audrey's visits to the Cottage had ceased. 'It will be all right,' he
+said, as he put the letter in his breast-pocket; and then he stopped and
+called some boy to order. 'You will stay in after luncheon, Roberts,' he
+said severely, and after that he did not speak again to Audrey.
+
+But that letter, strange to say, brought things to a climax. The very
+next morning Mollie gave Audrey a note.
+
+'It is from mamma,' she said, rather timidly. 'Would you like me to
+begin my piece, Miss Ross, while you read it?'
+
+'Yes, certainly; but it does not seem a long letter.' And, indeed, it
+only contained a few words:
+
+     'DEAR MISS ROSS,
+
+     'I must see you. If you will not come to me, will you tell Mollie
+     when I may call? But I must and will speak to you alone.'
+
+Audrey twisted up the paper in her hand; then she stood behind Mollie
+and beat time for a moment.
+
+'Mollie,' she said hurriedly, as she turned over the page, 'will you
+tell your mother that I will come to her this afternoon a little before
+three? I shall not be able to stay, but just for half an hour;' and then
+she sat down and quietly and patiently pointed out how an erring passage
+ought to be played. But there was a tired look on her face long before
+the lesson ended.
+
+All her life long Audrey never forgot the strange chill sensation that
+came over her as she read that note; it was as though some dim,
+overmastering force were impelling her against her own will. As she
+crushed the letter in her hand, she told herself that circumstances were
+becoming too strong for her.
+
+Her face was very grave that afternoon as she pushed open the green gate
+and walked up to the open door. It seemed to her as though she were
+someone else, as she crossed the threshold and stood for a moment in the
+little hall. Biddy came out of the kitchen. The mistress was in the
+drawing-room, she said, and Miss Mollie was out; and Audrey, still with
+that strange weight at her heart, went upstairs slowly. Mrs. Blake was
+sitting in her usual seat by the window. She rose without speaking and
+took Audrey's hands, but there was no smile upon her face. She looked
+very pale, and Audrey could see at once that she had been weeping.
+
+'You have come,' she said quietly; 'I thought my letter would bring you.
+Perhaps it was wrong of me to write; I ought to have come to you
+instead. But how was I to speak to you alone? Last night I was almost
+desperate, and then I was obliged to send for you.'
+
+'If you wanted me so much, of course you were right to send for me.'
+
+Audrey was conscious that her manner was cold, and that her voice was
+hardly as sympathetic as usual. She was sure Mrs. Blake noticed it, for
+her eyes filled with tears.
+
+'Oh, how coldly you speak! My poor boy has indeed offended you deeply.
+Oh, I know everything; he was too unhappy last night to hide it any
+longer from his mother. Do you know what he said to me?--that with all
+his strength he could not bear it, and that he must go away.'
+
+'Go away--leave Rutherford?'
+
+'Yes;' and now the tears were streaming down her face, and her voice was
+almost choked with sobs. 'He said he must give it up, and that we must
+all go away--that the effort is killing him, and that no man could bear
+such an ordeal. Oh, Miss Ross'--as Audrey averted her face--'I know you
+are sorry for him; but think what it was for his mother to stand by and
+hear him say such things. My boy--my brave, noble-hearted boy, who has
+never given me an hour's pain in his life!'
+
+'And you have sent for me to tell me this?'
+
+There was something proud, almost resentful, in Audrey's tone.
+
+'Yes; but you must not be angry with me. I think that, if Cyril knew
+that I was betraying him, he would never give me his confidence again.
+Last night I heard him walking about his room, and I went up to him. He
+wanted to send me away, but I would not go. I knelt down beside him and
+put my arms round his neck, and told him that I had found out his
+secret. It had come to me with a sudden flash as I sat beside him in
+chapel last Sunday. You passed up the aisle, and I saw his face, and
+then I knew what ailed him. And in the darkness I whispered in his ear,
+"My poor boy, you love Audrey Ross!"'
+
+Audrey put up one hand to shield her face, but she made no remark. She
+must hear it all; she had brought this misery upon them, and she must
+not refuse to share it.
+
+'He owned it then. I will not tell you what he said; it must be sacred
+between my boy and me. Oh, you do not know him! His nature is intense,
+like mine; he takes nothing easily. When he says that it is killing him
+by inches, and that we must go away, I know he is speaking the truth.
+How is he to live here, seeing you every day, and knowing that there is
+no love for him in your heart? How could any man drag out such a
+hopeless existence?'
+
+'Such things are done every day.' Audrey hardly knew what she was
+saying. A dull pain seemed to contract her heart; he was going away.
+Somehow, this thought had never occurred to her.
+
+'Yes, but not by men of Cyril's nature. He is strong, but his very
+strength seems to make him suffer more keenly. If he stayed here, people
+would begin to talk; he would not always be able to hide what he felt.
+He thinks he ought to go away for your sake. "I am giving her pain now,
+and by and by it will be worse"--those were his very words.'
+
+'I think it would be braver to stay on here. Will you tell him so, Mrs.
+Blake?'
+
+'No, Miss Ross, I will not tell him so; I will not consent to see him
+slowly tortured. If he tells us we must go, I will not say a dissenting
+word. What is my own comfort compared to his? I have had a hard life,
+God knows! and now it will be harder still.'
+
+'But you have other children to consider,' remonstrated Audrey faintly.
+'If you leave here, Mollie and Kester will be sacrificed. Surely, you
+have put this before him.'
+
+'No, indeed, I have not; he has always been my first consideration. Of
+course, I know how bad it will be for the poor children; but if it comes
+to that--to choose between them and Cyril----' And a strange, passionate
+look came into her eyes.
+
+'Hush, hush! I do not like to hear you talk so,' replied Audrey. 'It is
+wrong; no mother ought to make such a difference. You are not yourself,
+or you would not say such things. It is all this trouble.'
+
+'Perhaps you are right,' she returned drearily. 'I think it has half
+crazed me to know we must go away. Oh, if you knew what my life has
+been, and what a haven of rest this has seemed!' She looked round the
+room, and a sort of spasm crossed her face. 'It is all so sweet and
+homelike, and he has loved it so; and now to begin all afresh, and to go
+amongst strangers--and then the loss----' She stopped as though
+something seemed to choke her.
+
+Audrey felt as though she could hear no more. 'It is all my fault,' she
+burst out; 'how you must hate me!' But Mrs. Blake shook her head with a
+sad smile.
+
+'I don't seem to have the power of hating you,' she said, so gently that
+Audrey's lip quivered. 'How can I hate what my boy loves?' and then she
+paused and looked at Audrey, as though the sight of her suppressed
+emotion stirred some dim hope within her: 'If I thought it would help
+him, I would kneel at your feet like a beggar and pray you to have
+compassion upon him; but I know what such pity would be worth--do you
+think Cyril would accept any woman's pity?'
+
+'No, no,' and then Audrey rose and put out her hands in a beseeching
+way. 'Will you let me go? Indeed, indeed, I can bear no more----'
+
+'Yes, you shall go,' returned Mrs. Blake in a stifled tone. 'I have not
+been generous, I have spared you nothing, and yet it is not your fault.
+You have not played with my boy's heart; you never tried to win his
+heart. Cyril said so himself.'
+
+'No, you have not spared me,' was Audrey's answer, and then the two
+women parted without kissing each other--Audrey was too sore, too
+bewildered, for any such caress. They stood holding each other's hands
+for a moment, and then Mrs. Blake walked to the other end of the room
+and threw herself down upon a couch. Audrey looked at her for an
+instant, then she turned and went slowly down the stairs. But as she
+closed the green gate after her, she told herself that she must be alone
+for a little, and with a sudden impulse she turned into the courtyard
+that led to the school-house and chapel. There was one spot where she
+would be in perfect seclusion, and that was the school library; even if
+some stray boy were to make his appearance in search of a book--a very
+unlikely thing at this time in the afternoon--her presence there would
+attract no notice: she had several times chosen it as a cool, quiet
+retreat on a hot summer's afternoon. The sight of the big shabby room,
+with its pillars and book recesses and sloping desks, gave her a
+momentary sense of relief. The stillness soothed her, and the tumultuous
+singing in her head and ears seemed to lull. She sat down in one of the
+inner recesses and looked out on the row of ivy-covered studies and the
+little gate that led down to the town. A tame jackdaw was hopping among
+the stones, and a couple of fan-tail pigeons were strutting near him.
+The mellow brightness of the October sunshine seemed to flood the whole
+court. Oh, how peaceful it looked, how calm and still! and then Audrey
+suddenly put down her face on her hands and cried like a baby. 'Oh, if
+it were only not my fault!' she sobbed; 'but I cannot, cannot bear it,'
+and for a time she could do nothing but weep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+'DADDY, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU'
+
+                             'To his eye
+     There was but one beloved face on earth,
+     And _that_ was shining on him.'
+
+                                     CHAPMAN.
+
+
+Audrey never knew how long she sat there, shedding those healing tears,
+every one of which seemed to relieve her overcharged heart; it was a
+luxury to sit there in that cool shadowed stillness. Presently she would
+rouse herself and go back to her world again; presently, but not just
+now! By and by she would think it all out, she would question her own
+heart more closely. Hitherto she had feared any such scrutiny--now it
+would be selfish, cowardly, to avoid it any longer; but at the present
+minute she was only conscious that she and everyone else were miserable.
+
+At this moment she heard footsteps crossing the courtyard. Then, to her
+dismay, they entered the lobby. She had only just time to drag down a
+book from the shelves and open it haphazard; it was a volume on natural
+history. Anyone would have thought her absorbed, she pored so
+attentively over that plate of gaudy butterflies, never raising her head
+to look at the new-comer, who stood a few yards off regarding her with
+unqualified astonishment. Cyril Blake--for it was he, and no other, who
+had entered the library--would willingly have withdrawn without
+attracting her notice; but one of the boys in the sanatorium wanted a
+certain fascinating book of adventures, and he had promised to fetch it.
+He knew the volume was in this very recess, and he saw with some
+annoyance that it would be necessary to disturb her.
+
+'Miss Ross,' he said, in that quiet, guarded tone in which he always
+addressed her now, 'may I trouble you to move just for one moment? I am
+so sorry to disturb you, but Willie Taylor--' and then he stopped as
+though he were suddenly petrified.
+
+Audrey had risen quickly, but as she moved aside he had a full view of
+her face--the flushed cheeks and swollen eyelids told their own tale.
+
+'Good heavens!' he exclaimed, forgetting his errand and speaking in
+excessive agitation, 'you are unhappy--something is the matter!' and
+Cyril turned quite pale.
+
+Poor Audrey! her feelings were not very enviable at that moment. That
+she should be discovered by the very person whom she was most anxious to
+avoid! If he would only go away and leave her, and not stand there
+asking her questions! But nothing was farther from Cyril's intentions.
+For the minute he had forgotten everything, except that she was unhappy.
+
+'You are not well, or else something has been troubling you,' he
+continued, and his voice softened with involuntary tenderness. 'Miss
+Ross, you promised that we should be friends--will you not treat me as
+one now? There is nothing I would not do to help you, if you would only
+tell me what is troubling you.'
+
+'It is impossible,' she returned with a little sob. Oh, if he would only
+go away, and not speak to her so kindly! 'One must be troubled
+sometimes, and no one can help me--if you will only leave me to myself.'
+
+'Leave you like this?'
+
+'Yes, indeed--indeed. I cannot talk;' and Audrey wiped away the tears
+that seemed to blind her. She so seldom gave way--she so seldom
+permitted herself this feminine luxury of tears--but when once she set
+them flowing they were simply uncontrollable. She could not help what
+Cyril thought of her. 'If you would only go away,' she repeated, turning
+from him as he stood there as though rooted to the spot.
+
+'I cannot go;' and here Cyril's lips became quite white under his
+moustache.
+
+Some sudden intuition of the truth had come to him. Why had he not
+thought of that before? It had never even occurred to him. An hour ago
+he had met Mollie wandering about the town disconsolately. Miss Ross was
+at the Cottage, she had said; it was only a call, and she had taken the
+message herself; and then her mother had given her some errands to do,
+and had charged her strictly not to return for at least an hour.
+
+'Mamma never likes me to be at home when Miss Ross comes,' Mollie had
+observed in an aggrieved tone. But Cyril had taken no notice of the
+speech--he knew his mother's little ways, and no suspicion of the truth
+had come to him. It was only the sight of Audrey's emotion that
+quickened it into life now.
+
+'You have seen my mother,' he exclaimed; and here his face grew dark and
+stern. 'She has been talking to you--making you unhappy. Miss Ross,' as
+she remained silent, 'you must answer me. This concerns me very closely.
+I have a right to know if my mother has betrayed me!'
+
+His tone frightened Audrey.
+
+'You must not be vexed with her,' she said, rousing herself to defend
+the absent. 'She is very unhappy, and of course it troubled me.' Audrey
+spoke with her usual simplicity--what was the use of trying to hide it
+any longer? Cyril's impetuous pertinacity gave her no chance of escape.
+
+'And she told you that I was going away?'
+
+Audrey bowed her head.
+
+'It was very wrong,' he returned, still sternly. 'Whom is a man to
+trust, if he cannot trust his own mother? She has betrayed my
+confidence. It was cruel to me, but it was far more cruel to you--it is
+that I cannot forgive.'
+
+'No, no! You must not say that--she did not mean to be cruel, Mr. Blake.
+Of course I ought not to have known this, and of course it has made me
+very unhappy. But now I must ask you something. Will you not wait a
+little? Things may be better--easier----' And here she looked at him
+timidly, and her expression was very sweet.
+
+But Cyril was not looking at her; he was having a hard fight with
+himself. He was angry--justly angry, as he thought; nay, more, he was
+humiliated that his mother should have appealed to this girl--that,
+knowing her kind heart, she should have inflicted this pain on her. The
+sight of her grief, her gentleness, almost maddened him, and he averted
+his eyes as he answered her.
+
+'They cannot be easier. But do not mistake my meaning--perhaps my mother
+has misled you--let me put it right. No pain or difficulty is driving me
+away; do not think that for a moment. However hard it might be to go on
+living here, I think I could have endured it, if it were only right to
+do so. But I have made up my mind that it is not right, and to-morrow
+morning I shall speak to Dr. Ross.'
+
+'Oh no, no!' and here Audrey clasped her hands involuntarily. But
+Cyril's eyes were fixed on some carrier-pigeons fluttering across the
+courtyard.
+
+'It is my duty to do it, and it must be done. If Dr. Ross questions me,
+I shall tell him the truth: "I must go away because I have dared to love
+your daughter; and if I stayed here I should never cease from my efforts
+to win her." That is what I should tell him, Miss Ross. I think he will
+not press me to remain under these circumstances.' And Cyril gave a
+bitter little laugh.
+
+'Perhaps not;' and here Audrey sank down upon her chair, for she felt
+weak and giddy.
+
+'I am glad, at least, that you think I am doing right.'
+
+'I did not say so.'
+
+'Pardon me;' and here Cyril did try to get a glimpse of her face, for
+something in her tone baffled him. 'You, who know all, must of course
+approve my conduct. If I stayed here I could not answer for myself; it
+is better--safer--that I should go; though wherever I am,' here his
+voice trembled with exquisite tenderness, 'I must always love you.'
+
+'Then in that case you had better remain.'
+
+Audrey tried to shield her face as she spoke, but he had seen a little
+tremulous smile flit over her features, and she could not hide her
+dimple. What could she mean? Was he fooling himself--dreaming? The next
+moment he had dropped on one knee beside her, and was begging her, with
+tears in his eyes, to look at him.
+
+'This is a matter of life and death to me,' he implored, compelling her
+by the very strength of his will to turn her blushing face to him. 'Miss
+Ross--Audrey'--his tone almost amounting to awe--'you cannot mean that
+you really care for me?'
+
+'I am afraid I do care too much to let you go,' she half whispered. But
+as he grasped her hands, and looked at her almost incredulously: 'Why is
+it so impossible? I think in a way I have long cared.'
+
+But even then he did not seem satisfied.
+
+'It is not pity--you are sure of that? It is nothing that my mother has
+said? Audrey, if I thought that, I would rather die than take advantage
+of you. Tell me, dear'--and the pleading of his eyes was almost more
+than she could bear--'you would not so humiliate me?'
+
+'No, Cyril, I would not.'
+
+His name came so naturally to her, she hardly knew she said it; but a
+gleam of joy passed over the young man's face as he heard it, and the
+next moment he drew her towards him.
+
+Audrey took it all quite simply; she listened to her young lover's
+passionate protestation of gratitude, half shyly, half happily. The
+reverence with which he treated her touched her profoundly; he did not
+overpower her with the force of his affection. After the first few
+moments of agitated feeling he had quieted himself and her.
+
+'I must not try you too much,' he said. 'If I were to talk for an hour I
+could never make you understand how happy I am. It is a new existence;
+it is wonderful. Yesterday I was so tired of my life, and
+to-day--to-day, Audrey----'
+
+'I am happy, too,' she said, in a soft, contented voice. 'All these
+weeks have been so miserable; I seemed to miss you so--but you would
+have nothing to say to me. Do you remember that evening when you took my
+queen? Oh, how unhappy I was that night! And you saw it, and went away.'
+
+'I did not go far,' he returned, taking possession of one hand--the soft
+white hand that lay so quietly in his. 'It was the only thing I could do
+for you--to keep out of your sight as much as possible. I walked up and
+down the road like a sentinel for hours; it did not seem possible to go
+home and sleep. I felt as though I never wanted to sleep again. I could
+only think of you in your white gown as you sat opposite to me, and how
+your hand trembled, and how cold it felt when I said good-night. I
+thought it was all your goodness, and because you were sorry for me.
+Were you beginning to care for me a little even then, my darling?'
+
+'I do not know,' she answered gently. 'You must not question me too
+closely. I hardly understand myself how it has all come about.'
+
+'No,' he returned, looking at her with a sort of worship in his
+eyes--the worship with which a good, true woman will sometimes inspire a
+man, and which makes their love a higher education; 'it is all a
+miracle. I am not worthy of you; but you shall see--you shall see how
+dearly I shall prize this precious gift.'
+
+And then for a moment they were both silent.
+
+'You will not now forbid me to speak to your father?' he said presently;
+and a shade of anxiety crept into his voice in spite of his intense
+happiness.
+
+The thought of that interview somewhat daunted him. It was surely a
+daring thing for a junior classical master to tell his chief that he
+had won his daughter's affections; it was an ordeal that most men would
+have dreaded.
+
+Audrey seemed to read his thoughts.
+
+'I hope I shall never hinder you from doing your duty,' she said
+quietly, 'and, of course, you will have to speak to him; but'--looking
+at him with one of her radiant smiles--'you will find him quite
+prepared.'
+
+'Do you mean that you will speak to him first? Oh no; it is surely my
+prerogative to spare you this.'
+
+'But I do not wish to be spared,' she returned happily. 'Cyril, I do not
+think you have any idea of what my father is to me, and I to him. Do you
+suppose I should sleep until I have told him? There has never been any
+secret between us. Even when I was a little child, I would take him all
+my broken toys to mend, and if I fell down or cut my finger--and I was
+always in mischief--it was always father who must bind it up, and kiss
+and comfort me; and, with all his hard work, he was never too busy to
+attend to me.'
+
+'I think in your place I would have gone to your mother. You must not be
+jealous, darling, if I tell you that I fell in love with her first.'
+
+'I am so glad. Dear mother! everyone loves her. But when Gage and I were
+children, I was always the one most with father. I think there is no one
+in the world like him, and Michael says the same. I must write and tell
+Michael about this.'
+
+'Oh yes; he is like your brother. I remember you told me so. But,
+dearest, I must confess I am a little anxious about Dr. Ross. I am only
+a poor man, you know; he may refuse his consent.'
+
+Audrey shook her head.
+
+'Father is not like that,' she said tranquilly. 'We think the same on
+these matters; we are both of us very impulsive. I have some money of my
+own, you know--not much'--as Cyril's brow contracted a little--'but
+enough to be a real help. But do not let us talk about that; I have
+never cared for such things. If you had not a penny in the world you
+would be still yourself--Cyril Blake.'
+
+Audrey looked so charming as she said this, that the cloud on Cyril's
+brow cleared like magic.
+
+'And you do not think your father will be angry?'
+
+'Angry! Why should he be angry?' opening her eyes widely. 'He may be
+disappointed--very probably he will be so; he may think I might have
+done better for myself. He may even argue the point a little. The great
+blessing is that one is not obliged to consult one's sister in such
+cases; for'--looking at him with her old fun--'I am afraid Gage would
+refuse her consent.'
+
+'Yes; I am afraid both Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt will send me to Coventry.'
+
+'To be sure they will; but I suppose even Coventry will be bearable
+under some circumstances. Oh dear!' interrupting herself, 'do you see
+how dark it is growing? We have actually forgotten the time. I must
+really be going.'
+
+'I ought not to have kept you so long,' he returned remorsefully.
+'There, you shall go! I will not detain you another moment. I think it
+will be better for you to go alone. I will stay here another half-hour;
+I could not speak to anyone just now. I must be alone and think over
+this wonderful thing that has happened.'
+
+'Very well,' she replied. But some minutes elapsed before the last
+good-bye was said. There were things he had forgotten to say. More than
+once, as she turned away, he detained her with some parting request.
+When she had really gone, and the last sound of her footsteps died away,
+he went back into the dusky room, and threw himself down on the chair
+where she had sat, and abandoned himself to a delicious retrospect.
+
+'And it is true--it is not a dream!' he said to himself when, an hour
+later, he roused himself to go back to the Gray Cottage. 'Oh, thank God
+that He has given me this priceless gift! If I could only be worthy of
+her!' finished the young man with tender reverence, as he crossed the
+courtyard and let himself in at the green door.
+
+Mrs. Ross looked at her daughter rather anxiously that evening; she
+thought Audrey was rather quiet and a trifle subdued. Geraldine and her
+husband were dining at Woodcote. Audrey, who had forgotten they were
+expected, was rather taken aback when she saw her sister, and made her
+excuses a little hurriedly. She had been detained--all sorts of things
+had detained her. She had been to the Gray Cottage and the library. She
+had not walked far enough to tire herself--this being the literal fact,
+as not a quarter of a mile lay between Woodcote and the Cottage. Oh no,
+she was not the least tired, and she hoped Geraldine felt better.
+
+'Much better, thank you,' returned Geraldine, with one of her keen
+glances; and then she somewhat elaborately changed the subject. Audrey
+was not subjected to any cross-examination; indeed, there was something
+significant in Mrs. Harcourt's entire dearth of curiosity; but all the
+time she was saying to herself: 'Audrey has been crying; her eyes are
+quite swollen, and yet she looks cheerful. What can it mean? What has
+she been doing? She has hardly had time to smooth her hair, it looks so
+rough. I wonder if Percival notices anything! I am sure father does, for
+he keeps looking at her,' and so on.
+
+It was Mr. Harcourt who was Audrey's _bete noir_ that evening. He was in
+one of his argumentative moods, and could not be made to understand that
+his sister-in-law would have preferred silence. He was perpetually
+urging her to single combat, touching her up on some supposed tender
+point in the hope of getting a rally. 'I suppose Audrey, who goes in for
+women's rights so warmly, will differ from me if I say so and so?' or
+'We must ask Audrey what she thinks of that, my dear; she is a great
+stickler for feminine prerogative;' and then he would point his chin,
+and a sort of sarcastic light would come into his eyes. It was positive
+enjoyment to him when Audrey rose to the bait and floundered hopelessly
+into an argument. But, on the whole, she acquitted herself ill. 'You are
+too clever for me to-night, Percival,' she said a little wearily, as he
+stood talking to her with his coffee cup in his hand; 'I cannot think
+what makes men so fond of debating and argument. If they can only
+persuade a person that black is white, they go home and sleep quite
+happily.'
+
+'It is such a triumph to make people see with one's own eyes,' he
+returned, as though accepting a compliment. 'Have you ever read the
+_Republic_ of Plato? No! I should recommend it for your perusal: it is
+an acknowledged masterpiece; the reasoning is superb, and it is rich in
+illustrations. The want of women is that, with all their intelligence,
+they are so illogical. Now, if women only had the education of men----'
+
+'Harcourt, I think Geraldine is tired, and would like you to take her
+home,' observed Dr. Ross, interrupting the stream of eloquence; and Mr.
+Harcourt, without finishing his sentence, went at once in search of his
+wife. Women might be illogical, but they were to be considered, for all
+that. With all his satire and love of argument, Mr. Harcourt valued his
+wife's comfort before his own. 'I am quite ready, dear,' he said, as
+she looked up at him with a deprecating smile; 'and I know your mother
+will excuse us.'
+
+Dr. Ross had walked with his daughter to the gate. Young Mrs. Harcourt
+was a woman who always exacted these little attentions from the menkind
+around her; without demanding them, she took them naturally as her right
+and prerogative. It would have seemed strange to her if her father had
+not offered her his arm. 'Good-bye, father dear,' she said, giving him
+her firm cool cheek to kiss; 'Percy and I have had such a nice evening.'
+
+Dr. Ross walked back to the house; then he went to his study and lighted
+his reading-lamp. There was a certain interesting debate in the _Times_
+which he wished much to read--a Ministerial crisis was at hand, and Dr.
+Ross, who was Conservative to the backbone, was aware that his party was
+menaced. He had just taken the paper in his hand when Audrey came into
+the room. 'Good-night, my dear,' he said, without looking up; but Audrey
+did not take the hint.
+
+'Daddy, I want to speak to you,' she said very quietly; 'will you please
+put that paper down for a moment?' And then she added, 'I want to speak
+to you very particularly.'
+
+Dr. Ross heaved a sigh and lowered his paper somewhat reluctantly.
+'Would not another time have done as well?' he grumbled good-humouredly;
+'Harcourt has taken up all the evening. That is the worst of having an
+elderly son-in-law; one is bound to be civil to him; one could not tell
+him to hold his tongue, for example.'
+
+'I think Percival would resent such a hint,' returned Audrey rather
+absently. She had drawn a low chair close to her father's knee, so that
+she could touch him, and now she looked up in his face a little
+pleadingly.
+
+'Well, what is it, child?' he went on, still fingering his paper; 'I
+suppose you want help for some _protegee_ or other--moderation in all
+things. I warn you that I have not got Fortunatus's purse.'
+
+'It is not money I want,' she returned, so gravely that he began to feel
+uncomfortable. 'Daddy, it is something very, very different. This
+afternoon Cyril Blake spoke to me, and I--that is, we--are engaged.'
+
+Dr. Ross gave a great start and dropped the _Times_ as though it burnt
+him. For a moment he did not speak. With all his mildness and
+benevolence, he was a man of strong passions, though no one would have
+guessed it from his habitual self-control.
+
+'We are engaged,' she repeated softly, and then she stroked her father's
+hand; but he drew it rather quickly away.
+
+'Audrey,' he said, in a voice that she did not recognise, it was so
+stern, so full of displeasure; 'I would rather have heard anything than
+this, that a child of mine should so far forget herself as to engage
+herself to any man without her parents' consent.'
+
+'Oh, daddy----' she began caressingly, but he stopped her.
+
+'It was wrong; it was what I would not have believed of you, Audrey; but
+with regard to Mr. Blake, it was altogether dishonourable. How dared
+he,' here the Doctor's eyes flashed through his spectacles, 'how dared
+he win my daughter's affections in this clandestine way?'
+
+'Father, you must not speak so of Cyril!' returned Audrey calmly, though
+she was a little pale--a little disturbed at this unexpected severity;
+'it is not what you think: there was nothing clandestine or
+dishonourable. He did not mean to speak to me; it was more my fault than
+his. You shall hear all, every word from the beginning. Do you think I
+would hide anything from my father?' And here two large tears welled
+slowly from Audrey's eyes, but she wiped them away. Perhaps her
+gentleness and the sight of those tears mollified Dr. Ross, for when
+Audrey laid her clasped hands upon his knee he did not again repulse
+her. Nay, more, when she faltered once in telling her story, he put his
+hand on her head reassuringly.
+
+'Is that all you have to tell me, my dear?' and now Dr. Ross spoke in
+his old kind voice.
+
+'Yes, father dear; you have heard everything now, and--and--'
+beseechingly, 'you will not be hard on us!'
+
+'Hard on him, I suppose you mean,' returned Dr. Ross, with rather a sad
+smile; 'a man is not likely to be hard to his own flesh and blood. I
+still think he has acted rather badly, but I can make allowance for him
+better now--he was sorely tempted. But now I want you to tell me
+something: are you sure that your happiness is involved in this--that it
+would really cost you too much to give him up?'
+
+Audrey looked at her father with some astonishment--that wide,
+clear-eyed glance conveyed reproach.
+
+'Do you think it necessary to ask me such a question?' she said, with a
+little dignity; 'should I have engaged myself to any man without loving
+him?'
+
+'But he may have talked you into it; you may have mistaken your
+feelings,' suggested Dr. Ross; but Audrey shook her head.
+
+'I am not a child,' she said, rather proudly. 'Father, you have always
+liked Mr. Blake. You can surely have no objection to him personally?'
+
+'Yes, but my liking did not go to the extent of wishing him to be my
+son-in-law,' he replied, with a touch of grim humour; 'in my opinion,
+Audrey, Mr. Blake is far too young.'
+
+'He is three-and-twenty,' she pleaded; 'he is two months older than I
+am. What does age matter, father? He will grow older every day. I know
+some men are boyish at that age; but I think Cyril's life has matured
+him.'
+
+'Still, I would rather have entrusted you to an older man, and one who
+had in some measure made his position. Mr. Blake is only at the
+beginning of his career; it will be years before he achieves any sort of
+position. Audrey, you know me well enough by this time: I am not
+speaking of his poverty, though that alone should have deterred him from
+aspiring to my daughter. We think alike on these points, and I care
+nothing about a rich son-in-law; but Mr. Blake has only his talents and
+good character to recommend him. He is far too young; he is poor, and
+his family has no social standing.'
+
+'But, father, surely a good character is everything. How often I have
+heard you say what a high opinion his Dean had of him, and what an
+excellent character he had borne at school and college; and then think
+what a son and a brother he is--how unselfish, how hard-working! How
+could any girl be afraid of entrusting her future to him?'
+
+Dr. Ross sighed. Audrey's mind was evidently made up. Why had he brought
+this misfortune on them all by engaging this fascinating young
+master--for he certainly looked upon it as a misfortune. After all, was
+it any wonder that Cyril Blake, with his perfect face and lovable
+disposition, had found his way to his daughter's heart? 'Why could he
+not have fallen in love with someone else?' he groaned to himself; for
+Audrey was the very apple of his eye, and there was no one he thought
+good enough for her, unless it were Michael. Not that such an idea ever
+really occurred to him. Michael's ill-health put such a thing out of the
+question; but Michael was his adopted son, and far above the average of
+men, in his opinion.
+
+'Father, you will remember that my happiness is involved in this,'
+Audrey said, after a little more talk had passed between them. 'You will
+be good to Cyril when he speaks to you to-morrow.'
+
+'Oh yes; I will be good to him.'
+
+And then Audrey laid her hot cheek against him, and thanked him as she
+bid him good-night; but when she had gone there were no debates read
+that night--Dr. Ross had too many thoughts to occupy him as he sat alone
+in his empty study.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+'I FELT SUCH A CULPRIT, YOU SEE'
+
+     'Still, it seems to me that love--true and profound love--should be
+     a source of light and calm, a religion and a revelation, in which
+     there is no place left for the lower victories of vanity.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+It cannot be denied that Cyril Blake had rather a hard time of it in the
+Doctor's study. Dr. Ross received him kindly; but his kindness was a
+trifle iced as he shook hands with the young man, and then seated
+himself in his big easy-chair. He groaned inwardly: 'I am an old fool,'
+he thought, 'ever to have brought him here. How confoundedly handsome
+the fellow is! if one could only honestly dislike him!' and then he
+assumed a judicial aspect as he listened to the culprit.
+
+On the whole, Cyril acquitted himself fairly; he was very pale, and
+hesitated a little over his words; but he stated his case with
+sufficient eloquence. His love for Audrey bore him triumphantly even
+through this ordeal.
+
+'You have reason to be angry with me,' he said with ingenuous frankness.
+'I had no right to speak to Miss Ross until I had gained your permission
+to do so.'
+
+'It was certainly a grievous mistake, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'You are very kind not to call it by another name; I will own frankly it
+was a mistake. I must beg you to make allowances for a very strong
+temptation. Under some circumstances a man is not always master of
+himself.'
+
+Dr. Ross half smiled. After all, this braw wooer was bearing himself
+with manly dignity.
+
+'I hope you will believe me,' continued Cyril earnestly, 'when I say
+that I acted with no preconceived intention. My first declaration was
+perfectly hopeless. I expected nothing, asked for nothing; on the second
+occasion'--here he paused, and, in spite of his nervousness, a light
+came in his eyes--'circumstances forced me to speak.'
+
+'Circumstances can be controlled, Mr. Blake. If you had come to me, for
+example----'
+
+'It had been my intention to come to you, Dr. Ross, and to tender my
+resignation. I had made up my mind that it was my duty to leave this
+place. I had even spoken to my mother on the subject. "I love your
+daughter, and therefore it will not be right for me to stay." These were
+the very words I should have spoken to you, only--she--she--asked me not
+to go;' and here the young man's voice trembled.
+
+Dr. Ross's magisterial aspect relaxed a little; his good heart, yearning
+only for his child's happiness, began to relent.
+
+'I am quite sure of your affection for Audrey, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'You may be sure of it. There is no proof you could ask that would be
+refused by me. If I thought--that is, if you and she thought that this
+would not be for her happiness, I should be ready, even now, to go
+away.'
+
+'Thank you! I can quite believe that you mean what you say; but I shall
+not put you to so severe a proof. My child told me last night that her
+mind was made up--indeed, I understand that you and she are already
+engaged.'
+
+'Only with your permission, sir.'
+
+'I do not see how I am to withhold it when the girl tells me that her
+happiness is involved. I will speak to you plainly, Mr. Blake. You are
+certainly not in the position in which I should wish to see my future
+son-in-law. A man of your age, at the very beginning of his career, has
+no right to think of marrying.'
+
+Cyril flushed.
+
+'I do not think of it. I must work my way before such a thing would be
+possible.'
+
+'You mean because you are poor. Poverty is, of course, a serious
+obstacle; but just then I was thinking more of position. I should hardly
+be willing for my daughter to marry a junior classical master. Her
+sister is in a far better position.'
+
+'I shall hope not always to be a junior master, Dr. Ross.'
+
+'True; and, of course, interest can do a great deal. I must speak to
+Charrington, and see what is to be done in the future. Perhaps you know
+that Audrey has a little money of her own?'
+
+'I am sorry to hear it.'
+
+'Their grandfather left them each five thousand pounds--as Audrey is of
+age, she is, of course, her own mistress. It was my intention to give
+her a couple of thousands on her marriage--Geraldine had it--anything
+else will only come to them on my death.'
+
+'I wish you had not told me all this.'
+
+Dr. Ross smiled.
+
+'You are young, Blake,' he said, in his old friendly manner, 'or you
+would not be so romantic as to wish Audrey were penniless. You will find
+a few thousands very serviceable by and by, when, in the course of time,
+a house falls vacant. I am speaking of the future, mind--for I do not
+mean you to have Audrey for at least a couple of years; we are in no
+hurry to lose her, and you must make your way a little first. Now I
+think we have talked enough for the present. I will just have a word
+with Audrey, and send her to you.' Then he held out his hand, and Cyril
+grasped it with a word or two of gratitude.
+
+Meanwhile Audrey, seated close to her mother on the drawing-room couch,
+was pouring out the whole story. She told it very comfortably, with her
+face resting against her mother's shoulder, and only interrupted by a
+tearful inquiry at intervals.
+
+'Oh, Audrey! Oh, my darling child!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross, in a sighing
+sort of voice, when the girl had finished her recital.
+
+'Are you sorry, mother? Why do you speak in that tone? You know you have
+always liked Cyril.'
+
+'Yes, my dear,' but here Mrs. Ross sighed again; 'how can one help
+liking him, when he is so lovable? But, Audrey, what will your sister
+say--and Percival?'
+
+'Poor dear mother! So that was the reason of that dolorous voice? Well,
+do you know,' with an engaging air of frankness, 'I am afraid we shall
+have a bad time with Gage; she will want me put in a strait-waistcoat
+and fed on a cooling diet of bread and water. Father will have to assure
+her that there is no insanity in the family; and as to Percival--oh,
+Percival's face, when he hears the news, will be a joke!'
+
+'I must say I don't see the joke, Audrey. I am really afraid they will
+both be dreadfully shocked. You must tell them yourself. I would not
+take the news to Hillside for the world--and just now, too, when dear
+Geraldine ought to be spared all agitation.'
+
+Audrey did not dare laugh; her mother was far too much in earnest.
+
+'You must go yourself, Audrey,' she repeated; 'and I hope you will be
+very, very careful.'
+
+'Don't you think it would be better to write, mother? I am so sure that
+Gage will disapprove and say cutting things--and of course it will not
+be pleasant. If I were to write her a sisterly little note, just telling
+her the news, and saying I would go to her to-morrow?'
+
+And, after a good deal of consideration, Mrs. Ross was brought to own
+that this plan would be the best.
+
+Mrs. Ross was so oppressed by the fear of Geraldine's disapproval that
+she could hardly give her attention to Audrey; and yet her motherly
+heart was stirred to its foundations. Audrey pretended to be hurt at
+last.
+
+'Oh, do not let us talk any more about Gage!' she said impatiently; 'we
+must give her time to come round. I want you to think about me and
+Cyril. "Cyril"--is it not a nice name? And you must be very fond of him,
+and treat him like your own son. He is to be a second Michael.'
+
+'Dear me, Audrey! I wonder what Michael will say; he can never have
+guessed anything before he went away.'
+
+'I don't know, mother. Michael is very sharp, you know. It struck me
+once or twice that he was watching Cyril; but he liked him--he always
+liked him;' and here Audrey's voice was full of gladness. Michael's
+approval was necessary to her happiness: whoever else might choose to
+cavil at her choice, it must not be Michael--dear old Michael!
+
+'I wish he would come back,' she said softly; for she felt a strange
+sort of longing to see his kind face again. She must write to him; she
+must tell him everything, just as though he were her brother. 'Mother,'
+interrupting herself, 'I want to tell you something very pretty that
+Cyril said yesterday. I was talking of you and father, and he said I
+must not be hurt, but he had fallen in love with you first. He thinks
+you the sweetest woman he has ever seen.'
+
+'Dear fellow!' murmured Mrs. Ross; for the little compliment pleased
+her.
+
+With all her loyalty to Geraldine's husband, there were times when he
+was a little formidable to her. Perhaps, in her secret heart, she felt
+herself too young to be the mother-in-law of a man of forty; and, in
+spite of Mr. Harcourt's real liking and respect for his wife's mother,
+he had never been guided by her. It had not been with him, as with
+younger men, to say, 'Your mother thinks so-and-so should be done.'
+Indeed, if the truth be told, Geraldine very rarely quoted her mother's
+opinions--she was so certain that Percival would contradict them.
+
+'We are surely able to make up our own minds without consulting your
+parents, my dear,' he would say, in rather a crushing tone; for
+prosperity had fed his self-confidence, and it needed the discipline of
+trouble to teach him humility.
+
+At that moment Dr. Ross entered the room, and at the first sight of his
+face Audrey sprang up, and he opened his arms to receive her.
+
+'Oh, daddy, is it all right?'
+
+'Well, it is as far right as it can be,' he replied, in rather an
+inexplicable voice. 'Emmie, my dear, this girl of ours has taken the bit
+between her teeth. Geraldine never gave us this trouble. She fell in
+love with the right man at the right time, and everything was arranged
+properly.'
+
+'And now the right man has fallen in love with me,' whispered Audrey in
+her father's ear.
+
+'But you have given your consent, John?' returned his wife, in a
+pleading tone. In spite of her fears about Geraldine, her sympathies
+were by this time enlisted on the side of the lovers. 'Of course, Mr.
+Blake is a poor man; but I daresay Dr. Charrington will push him when he
+knows how things are; and he is so nice and pleasant and clever, and
+dear Audrey really loves him.'
+
+'Are you sure of that?' trying to catch a glimpse of his daughter's
+face. 'Girls make mistakes sometimes.' And then, as a faint protest
+reached him: 'Well, you will find the fellow in my study, if you want to
+talk to him. Perhaps you had better bring him in to see your mother.'
+
+And Audrey withdrew, blushing like a rose.
+
+'She is very fond of him, John,' observed Mrs. Ross, with a trace of
+anxiety in her tone, as though her husband's manner did not quite
+satisfy her. 'She has been talking to me for the last hour. Audrey never
+cared for anyone before. You remember young Silverdale and Fred
+Langton--they were both in love with her, and would have spoken if she
+had given them the chance; but she was as distant as possible.'
+
+'Yes; and Fred Langton has fifteen hundred a year, and his father is a
+Member of Parliament. He is a nice fellow, too--only a little too stout
+for so young a man; but he is not the sort Audrey would fancy. Blake is
+a good fellow, and I liked him from the first,' continued the Doctor, in
+a musing tone; 'but I never should have picked him out for Audrey.'
+
+'Perhaps you think him too young?' hazarded his wife.
+
+'Yes; I should have liked her to have married an older man. They are too
+much of an age, and Audrey, with all her good-nature, has a will of her
+own. Blake is by no means a weak man; on the contrary, I should say he
+is strong; but he will have to give in to her.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not!' for Mrs. Ross held the old-fashioned doctrines of
+wifely submission and obedience.
+
+'They will not find it out for a little; but, if I am not mistaken,
+Blake will discover in time that he is somewhat handicapped. The girl
+has too much on her side: there is her position, her little bit of
+money, and her equality as regards age. Blake will have to steer his way
+prudently, or he will find himself among shoals.'
+
+Mrs. Ross looked distressed; her husband's opinion was infallible to
+her. It never occurred to her that he might be occasionally wrong in his
+premises.
+
+'Percival and Geraldine will be dreadfully shocked,' she replied. 'I
+quite dread the effect on Geraldine.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross's mood changed.
+
+'It is no business of hers, or of Harcourt's either,' he said, rather
+sharply. 'If Audrey has her parents' consent, she need not trouble
+herself about other people's opinions.'
+
+Then Mrs. Ross knew that, whatever stormy discussion might be in store
+for her, she must not expect her husband to come to her assistance. He
+had more than once hinted that his son-in-law took rather too much upon
+himself, and on one occasion he had gone so far as to say that it was a
+pity Geraldine had married a man so much older than herself.
+
+'Harcourt is a clever fellow, but he plays the autocrat rather too much.
+A man has a right to be master in his own house, but Woodcote is not
+Hillside.' And this speech had alarmed Mrs. Ross dreadfully.
+
+'I wish your father cared for Percival as much as he does for Michael,'
+she said once a little plaintively to Audrey. 'Nothing Michael says or
+does is ever wrong in his eyes.'
+
+'But there could not be two Michaels, mother,' returned Audrey; 'and
+really, Percival does lay down the law far too much. I don't wonder
+father was a little put out, for of course he is the older man.'
+
+Meanwhile, the lovers were enjoying themselves after their own fashion.
+When Audrey entered the study, Cyril was standing in the bay-window with
+his back towards the door; but at the sound of her footstep he turned
+round quickly and crossed the room. As he took her hands he looked at
+her for a moment without speaking, and she saw at once that he was
+deeply moved. Then he put his arm round her very gently and kissed her.
+Somehow that silent caress touched Audrey, it was so much more eloquent
+than words; and when he did speak, his speech was very grateful to her
+ears.
+
+'Your father has been so good to me.'
+
+'Yes, I know. I told you yesterday how good he would be.'
+
+'Ah, but I had a rather bad time of it at first,' he replied, shaking
+his head. 'Do you see that chair?' pointing to the high-backed oaken
+chair that always occupied the corner by the writing-table. 'Dr. Ross
+sat there, and I stood leaning against the mantelpiece, just opposite to
+him.'
+
+'Do you mean that father did not ask you to sit down?'
+
+'Oh no; he more than once pressed me to take a seat; but I felt it would
+be unbecoming for a culprit not to stand before his judge. I felt such a
+culprit, you see. When a man steals another man's dearest possession
+without asking his leave, he must regard himself as a sort of traitor.'
+
+Audrey smiled; but as Cyril drew her gently down beside him on the wide
+cushioned window-seat, she made a faint protest.
+
+'I think mother will be looking for us,' she said a little shyly.
+
+'But not just now,' he pleaded. 'You will stay with me for a few
+minutes, will you not, darling? I could not talk to you before your
+mother, and I want to tell you what Dr. Ross said. In spite of my
+presumption, he has treated me most generously; but, Audrey,' half
+whispering her name, as though it thrilled him to say it, 'he says that
+he will not spare you to me for at least two years.'
+
+'Oh no, of course not; I could not leave father and mother for a long,
+long time,' returned Audrey, somewhat troubled by this allusion to her
+marriage. It was one thing to be engaged and to make Cyril happy, but to
+be married was a far more serious consideration. 'If I had been asked, I
+should have said at least three years,' she added quickly.
+
+For one instant the young lover felt himself wounded, but his good sense
+enabled him to hide this from her.
+
+'You are right, dearest,' he said quietly. 'It would be mere selfishness
+for me to wish to take you away from this beautiful home until I have
+made one that shall in some degree be fitting for you. You will not
+expect a grand one; you know you have linked your lot to a poor man.'
+
+'Of course I know it,' she replied calmly; 'you need not trouble about
+that, Cyril. I think I am different from other girls: I have never cared
+for wealth or luxury in the least. Woodcote is my home, and I love every
+stone of it; but I could be just as happy in a cottage.'
+
+'If it were like the Gray Cottage, for example?'
+
+'Oh, I have always been fond of the Gray Cottage!' she returned, smiling
+at him; and the look of those sweet gray eyes made the young man's
+pulses beat faster. 'I should be perfectly satisfied with a home like
+that. Why,' as he interrupted her with a rapturous expression of
+gratitude, 'did you think I should be hard to please? I am not a fine
+lady, like Geraldine!'
+
+'You are the finest lady in the world to me!' was Cyril's answer. It
+took all his self-control to sit there, just holding her hand and
+listening to her. He felt as though in his joy he could have been guilty
+of any extravagance--as though he ought to be kneeling before her, his
+lady of delight, pouring out his very soul in a tumultuous, incoherent
+stream of words. But it spoke well for his knowledge of Audrey's
+character that he restrained himself so utterly: any such passionate
+love-making would have disturbed her serenity and destroyed her ease in
+his society; her inborn love of freedom, and a certain coyness that was
+natural to her, would have revolted against such wooing. Cyril had his
+reward for his unselfish forbearance when he saw how quietly she rested
+against his arm, how willingly she left her hand in his, as she talked
+to him in her frank, guileless way.
+
+'I suppose your mother is pleased about this?' she said presently.
+
+'You would have said so if you had heard us talking last night, until
+one o'clock in the morning! You have made more than one person happy,
+dear; my mother will be your debtor for life.'
+
+'I wonder she is not a little jealous of me,' returned Audrey. 'She has
+had you so long to herself, I should think she would find me a little in
+her way.'
+
+'Oh no! she is too grateful to you for making me happy. My darling, it
+would cause me utter misery if you and my mother did not get on. I have
+been her one thought all these years; it is not right, of course,' as
+Audrey's eyes expressed disapproval at this. 'I have had more than my
+fair share; but I am only stating facts from her point of view. If you
+had refused me--if we had gone away--she would have broken her heart; as
+it is, she is ready to worship you for your goodness to me.'
+
+'You must take me to her by and by,' returned Audrey gently; 'but now,
+Cyril, indeed we must go to my mother;' and this time he made no
+objection.
+
+Mrs. Ross welcomed him very nicely.
+
+'Audrey tells me that I am to have another son,' she said softly, as she
+held out her hand to him.
+
+'If you will only let me be one,' he returned gratefully, as he carried
+the soft motherly hand to his lips.
+
+Audrey might be forgiven if she regarded Cyril's behaviour as perfect.
+As for Mrs. Ross, the tears started to her eyes at that act of
+reverential homage. She told Audrey afterwards that she felt as though
+she could have kissed him.
+
+'What a pity you did not! I think Cyril would have liked it,' was
+Audrey's quiet answer.
+
+She heard her mother inviting him to dinner as she turned to the
+tea-table, for the afternoon was nearly over. 'We shall be just by
+ourselves, Mr. Blake.'
+
+'Will you call me Cyril now?' he asked in almost a whisper, and a blush
+came to Mrs. Ross's comely face.
+
+'I will try and remember,' she said, in the kindest possible voice; and
+then he joined Audrey at the tea-table, and made himself very busy in
+waiting on them both, and they were soon as easy and comfortable as
+possible.
+
+'Would you like my mother to come and see you to-morrow?' he asked
+presently, when lamps had been brought in and the October twilight had
+been excluded; 'that will be the correct thing, will it not, Mrs. Ross?'
+
+'I suppose so,' she assented; but Audrey, with her usual impulsiveness,
+interrupted her:
+
+'Why should you not take me across now?' she said; 'I think it is so
+stupid thinking about etiquette. Your mother is older than I, and it is
+for me to go to her.' Audrey spoke with decision, and Cyril looked
+enchanted.
+
+'I did not like to propose it,' he said delightedly; 'will you really
+come? May I take her, Mrs. Ross?'
+
+But Audrey did not wait for her mother's permission. She left the room,
+and returned presently in her hat and jacket.
+
+'I am quite ready,' she said, speaking from the threshold; but she
+smiled as she said the words. Was she interrupting an interesting
+conversation? Cyril was on the couch beside her mother, and he was
+talking eagerly. Perhaps, though Audrey did not know it, he was making
+up for his previous self-restraint by pouring out some of his pent-up
+feelings.
+
+'You understand?' he said as he stood up, and Mrs. Ross beamed at him in
+answer.
+
+'Are you two having confidences already?' observed Audrey happily, as
+she looked on at this little scene; and Cyril laughed as he followed her
+into the hall.
+
+'She is the sweetest woman in the world but one,' he said, as they went
+out together into the soft damp air; and Audrey, perhaps in gratitude
+for these words, took his arm unasked as she walked with him through the
+dark village street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+MR. HARCOURT SPEAKS HIS MIND
+
+     'It is idle to _talk_ a young woman in love out of her passion.
+     Love does not lie in the ear.'--HORACE WALPOLE.
+
+
+Mrs. Blake was expecting them--had been expecting them for hours; Audrey
+could see that in a moment. The October evenings were chilly, and most
+people in Rutherford lighted a fire at sundown; so a clear little fire
+burnt in the drawing-room grate, and Mrs. Blake's favourite lamp with
+the pink shade cast a rosy glow over the little tea-table. The cups were
+ranged in due order, and some hot cakes were on the brass trivet, but
+the little tea-maker was not at her usual post. Only Mrs. Blake was
+standing alone in the middle of the room, and as Cyril led Audrey to her
+she threw her arms round the girl with almost hysterical violence. 'Oh,
+my dear, dear, dearest girl!' she exclaimed, pressing her with
+convulsive force; and Audrey felt a little embarrassed.
+
+'I thought you would be looking for us,' she said, releasing herself
+gently; 'I asked Cyril to bring me--it seemed the right thing.'
+
+'No, dear, it was not the right thing,' returned Mrs. Blake, almost
+solemnly; 'it was for me to come to you. But all the same, I knew Cyril
+would bring you; my boy would remember his mother even in his
+happiness.'
+
+'It was not my thought,' began Cyril; but a very sweet look from Audrey
+checked him.
+
+'What does it matter whose thought it was?' she said, in her direct way;
+'if I asked him to bring me, it was because I knew it was what he
+wished, though he did not like to ask me. Dear Mrs. Blake, was it likely
+that I should stay away when we have always been such friends?'
+
+For a moment Mrs. Blake seemed unable to answer. Some curious emotion
+impeded her utterance. She turned very pale and trembled visibly.
+
+'And we shall be better friends than ever now,' continued Audrey, taking
+her hand, for she felt very tender towards the beautiful woman who was
+Cyril's mother.
+
+'I trust so,' returned Mrs. Blake in a low voice; but there was a
+melancholy gleam in her large dark eyes. Then, with an effort to recover
+her usual manner: 'Audrey, I hope you have forgiven me for troubling you
+so yesterday. You must not expect me to say I am sorry, or that I repent
+a word that I said then; but all the same, I was rather hard on you.'
+
+'You certainly made me very wretched.'
+
+'Yes, I felt I was very cruel; but one cannot measure one's words at
+such a moment. I felt as though my children and I were being driven out
+of our paradise.'
+
+'And you thought it was my fault?' but Audrey blushed a little as she
+asked the question.
+
+'Oh, hush!' and Mrs. Blake glanced at her son with pretended alarm; 'do
+you know that in spite of all I had done for him, that ungrateful boy
+actually presumed to lecture me. He would have it that I had been cruel
+to you, and that no one but a woman would have taken such a mean
+advantage; but all the time he looked so happy that I forgave him.
+"All's well that ends well." That is what I told him.'
+
+Cyril shook his head. Even in his happiness he had been unable to
+refrain from uttering his disapproval of his mother's tactics. His
+nature was almost as simple and transparent as Audrey's. It hurt him to
+remember how his mother had appealed to this girl's sense of compassion.
+
+'Do not let us talk any more of it,' he said quickly. 'I think Audrey
+has a great deal to forgive; but you and I, mother, know her
+generosity.'
+
+And the look that accompanied these words left Audrey silent for a
+moment.
+
+'Where is Mollie?' she exclaimed presently, when, after a little more
+conversation, Mrs. Blake insisted that she must have just one cup of
+tea. In vain Audrey protested that they had had tea already at Woodcote,
+that in another hour or so they would have to dine. Mrs. Blake could not
+be induced to let them off.
+
+'Where is Mollie?' she continued; 'may I go and look for her, Mrs.
+Blake?'
+
+But before Mrs. Blake could answer, Audrey had exchanged a glance with
+Cyril and disappeared.
+
+She found Mollie in the dining-room; she was pacing up and down the room
+with a small black kitten in her arms, but the moment Audrey appeared
+the kitten was discarded, and flung upon four trembling, sprawling legs,
+and Mollie sprang towards her, almost overwhelming her with her girlish
+vehemence.
+
+'Oh, Miss Ross, my dear Miss Ross! is it really true? Cyril said so this
+morning, but I could not believe him; I must hear it from your own
+lips.'
+
+'Do you mean, is it true that I hope one day to become your sister? Of
+course it is true, dear Mollie.'
+
+'Oh, I am so glad! I am more than glad; I have been crying with joy half
+the day. But is he good enough for you, Miss Ross?' gazing at her idol
+with intense anxiety. 'I am very fond of Cyril--Kester and I think there
+is no one like him--but it does not seem as though anyone were quite
+good enough for you.'
+
+'Oh, Mollie, what nonsense! but I am not going to believe you; and what
+do you mean by calling me Miss Ross, you silly child? Don't I tell you
+we are going to be sisters?'
+
+Mollie, who had been rubbing her cheeks against her friend in a
+fondling, kittenish sort of way, started back in a moment.
+
+'But I could not call you anything else,' she returned, becoming crimson
+with shyness. 'You will always be Miss Ross to me--my Miss Ross, you
+know; I could not think of you as anyone else. It would be such a
+liberty to call you by your Christian name.'
+
+'Well, never mind; it will come naturally by and by,' returned Audrey
+tranquilly. 'I shall know you are fond of me, whatever you choose to
+call me; so you and Kester can do as you like.'
+
+'May I write and tell him?' pleaded Mollie. 'Oh, dear Miss Ross, do let
+me!'
+
+But Audrey was not inclined to give permission; she explained to Mollie
+that she meant to write herself to Captain Burnett, and that she thought
+Cyril would send Kester a note.
+
+'Better leave it to him,' she suggested; 'you can write to him
+afterwards;' and as usual Mollie was docile.
+
+They went upstairs after this, Mollie picking up the kitten on the way.
+Cyril sprang to the door as he heard their footsteps.
+
+'Have we been long?' Audrey asked, turning to him with a smile.
+
+Cyril hardly knew what he answered. For a moment a sense of giddiness
+came over him, as though he were suddenly dazzled. 'Could it be really
+true?' he asked himself more than once. Audrey did not seem to guess his
+feelings: she was perfectly tranquil and at her ease; she had laid aside
+her hat and jacket to please Mrs. Blake, and as she sat there sipping
+her tea and talking softly to them all, she looked so fair and girlish
+in her lover's sight, that the infatuated young man could not remove his
+eyes from her.
+
+And yet Audrey was only in the old dark-red cashmere that was
+Geraldine's pet aversion; but her brown hair had golden gleams in it,
+and the gray eyes were very bright and soft, and perhaps with that
+changing colour Audrey did look pretty; for youth and love are great
+beautifiers even of homely features. Audrey was sorry when Cyril
+reminded her that it was time to go. She was loath to leave that little
+drawing-room, so bright with lamplight and firelight. She went home and
+dressed for dinner in her white gown, feeling as though she were in some
+placid dream.
+
+The rest of the evening passed very tranquilly. Dr. Ross asked for some
+music; he was not in the mood for conversation, so Audrey sang to them
+all her favourite songs, while Cyril stood beside her and turned over
+the leaves. Now and then they could exchange a word or two.
+
+And just at the last she must needs sing 'Widow Miller,' and as usual
+Dr. Ross softly beat time and crooned an accompaniment:
+
+     'The sang o' the lark finds the widow asteer,
+     The birr o' her wheel starts the night's dreamy ear,
+     The tears o'er the tow-tap will whiles fa' like rain,
+     Yet there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain.'
+
+'What a sad song, my darling! I should like to hear something more
+cheerful,' whispered Cyril, as she finished.
+
+But she did not seem to hear him; she rose from her seat and crossed the
+room to the corner where Dr. Ross was sitting.
+
+'That is your favourite song, daddy,' she said, leaning over him.
+
+And as he smiled and nodded, she sat down on the low chair beside him
+and looked thoughtfully into the fire.
+
+She roused herself presently to bid Cyril good-bye, and to linger a
+moment with him at the door in the starlight.
+
+'I shall not see you until luncheon to-morrow, unless you pass the
+window,' he said, with the egotism common to lovers. 'You will think of
+me until then, will you not, dear?'
+
+'Of course I shall think of you,' returned Audrey, with her usual
+gentleness.
+
+But she seemed to wonder a little at the sudden passion with which Cyril
+clasped her to him.
+
+'Good-night, Cyril dear. I shall be very busy all the morning writing
+letters; but we can have the walk you propose after four.'
+
+And then she went back to her seat and leant her cheek against her
+father's arm, as she looked into the fire again.
+
+'A penny for your thoughts, my child,' observed Dr. Ross, when they had
+both been silent for a long time; 'though I suppose I need not ask.'
+
+'I was thinking of Michael,' she returned guiltily. 'Dear old Michael!
+how I wish he could be happy, too!' And then she bade them both
+good-night and went up to her room, and, strange to say, her last
+thought before she fell asleep was to wonder what Michael would say.
+
+The boys marvelled more than once the following morning at their
+master's evident abstraction. In spite of his efforts to fix his
+attention on Greek verbs and exercises, Cyril's eyes would turn
+perpetually to the window; but no slight girlish figure in dark-red
+cashmere appeared on the terrace to gather the yellow and white and
+violet chrysanthemums that bloomed in the borders.
+
+Audrey was in her own private sanctum, and had given orders that no one
+should disturb her. Even Mollie was to be sent away. She had very
+important business on her hands. There was her letter to Geraldine, and
+a very difficult one it was to write--so difficult, that more than once
+Audrey thought that she would put on her hat and go up to Hillside
+instead; but she remembered that Gage was expecting visitors to
+luncheon. They would probably come early, and drive away before dusk;
+her letter must not be delivered before then. So she addressed herself
+again to her task.
+
+After all, it was a very sweet, womanly letter, and might have touched
+any sister's heart.
+
+'If you cannot conscientiously approve, you can at least wish me joy in
+the life I have chosen for myself,' she wrote. 'I have accepted Mr.
+Blake of my own free will, because I think he is worthy of my affection.
+You do not know him yet; but he is so good--so good: sometimes I think
+even Michael is not more to be trusted.' And so on.
+
+But, after all, it was far easier to write to Michael. Audrey had no
+need to pick her words or arrange her ideas with him. She could tell him
+everything as frankly as though he were her brother. There need be no
+limit to her confidence; Michael would never misunderstand her.
+
+'The one drawback is that you are still away,' she finished
+affectionately. 'I shall not feel things are perfect until we have had
+one of our long talks on "Michael's bench." When are you coming home? It
+will soon be November, and the trees will be stripped of their leaves.
+Why do you trouble yourself about another man's business? No one wants
+you more than your devoted cousin and friend--AUDREY ROSS.'
+
+And when this letter was in the post, and the note for Geraldine lying
+on the marble slab in the hall, she felt a sense of relief, and had
+leisure to think of Cyril.
+
+They had their walk together after afternoon school, but it soon grew
+dusk, and Audrey suggested that, as her mother was alone, they should go
+back to Woodcote to tea. There was no invitation to dinner that night,
+but Cyril did not expect it--he had his dormitory work; and as Audrey
+promised to see him before he went away for the night, he was quite
+content.
+
+'You must not think that I mean to bore Mrs. Ross with intruding myself
+on all occasions,' he said. 'I know you will tell me when I may come. I
+mean to be guided entirely by you. Under these circumstances a man is
+tempted to be selfish.'
+
+'You will never be selfish,' she said, with one of her charming smiles.
+'I could never have promised to marry a selfish man. But, Cyril, you
+will be guided by me in that other thing?' changing her tone, and
+looking at him very seriously; for they had had rather a hot argument.
+
+Cyril was going to Peterborough the next day to buy the betrothal ring,
+and Audrey had petitioned for a gold one.
+
+'But it will only look like a wedding-guard,' he had remonstrated; for
+he would rather have denied himself everything for six months, if only
+he could buy something fit for her acceptance--a pearl or sapphire ring,
+for example. Diamonds were beyond his means.
+
+But Audrey could not be induced to say that she liked pearls; on the
+contrary, she manifested an extraordinary preference for the idea of a
+broad chased gold band, with her own and Cyril's initials inside.
+
+'I am going to marry a poor man,' she said decidedly, 'and he must not
+waste his money on me. What does it matter if it look like a guard? It
+can serve that purpose afterwards. Please do not look so disappointed,
+Cyril. When you can afford it, you shall give me any ring you
+like--pearl or diamond; but I like diamonds best.' And she was so
+evidently in earnest that he had to yield to her; and Audrey wore her
+gold ring with immense satisfaction.
+
+Audrey spent her evening quietly with her parents. She and Dr. Ross
+played chess together, and when he went off to his study she stayed and
+talked to her mother.
+
+Mrs. Ross was not a lively companion that evening. The fear of
+Geraldine's disapproval was quickening her latent feelings of uneasiness
+into activity, and she could not keep these feelings to herself.
+
+'I wonder if Geraldine will answer your letter this evening, Audrey?'
+
+'I don't think so, mother dear. I am to go there to-morrow, you see, so
+there will be no need for her to write.'
+
+'I am afraid that she will be hurt because you have not gone to her
+to-day; she will think it rather odd for you to write.'
+
+'Why, mother,' opening her eyes rather widely at this, 'don't you
+remember Mr. and Mrs. Bland were to lunch there? How could Gage have
+given me her attention? And then, with guests to entertain, it would
+never have done to run the risk of upsetting her. Percival would have
+glared at us all through luncheon if he had noticed her eyes were red.
+You know how easily Gage cries.'
+
+'Did you tell her this in your letter?'
+
+'I think I implied it, but I am not sure.'
+
+'Ah, well, we must wait until to-morrow,' with a sigh; 'but I cannot
+deny I am very anxious. You will go up to Hillside directly after
+breakfast, will you not, my dear? And do beg Geraldine to come back with
+you. I feel I shall not have a moment's peace until I have seen her.'
+
+'Poor dear mother!' observed Audrey caressingly; for there was a look of
+care on Mrs. Ross's brow.
+
+But though Audrey cheered up her mother, and made her little jokes, she
+was quite aware of the ordeal that was before her, and it was with some
+undefined idea of propitiating her sister that she laid aside the red
+cashmere the next morning and put on a certain gray gown which Gage
+especially admired. It had a hat to match, with a gray wing, and
+Geraldine always looked at her approvingly when she came to Hillside in
+the gray gown. She was on the terrace, picking two or three yellow
+chrysanthemums, when she saw her brother-in-law coming towards her. A
+visit from him at this hour was a most unusual proceeding, and Audrey at
+once guessed that his business was with her. The idea of any
+interference from her brother-in-law was decidedly unpalatable;
+nevertheless, she awaited him smilingly. Mr. Harcourt was a man who
+walked well. He had a fine carriage of the head, though some people said
+he held himself a little too erect, and too much with the air of a man
+who recognises his own superiority; but, as Audrey watched him as he
+walked up the terrace, she thought he had never held his head so proudly
+before.
+
+'You are a very early visitor this morning, Percival,' she observed, as
+she arranged the chrysanthemums in her gray dress; and she looked up at
+him pleasantly as she shook hands with him.
+
+But there was no answering smile on Mr. Harcourt's face.
+
+'It is a very unusual business that brings me,' he replied rather
+solemnly. 'Is there anyone in the drawing-room, Audrey? I should like to
+speak to you quietly.'
+
+'Susan is in there, dusting the ornaments, but I can easily send her
+away,' rejoined Audrey cheerfully. 'Mother is in the study.' And then
+she led the way to the drawing-room, and gave Susan a hint to withdraw.
+
+Mr. Harcourt waited until the door was shut, then he put down his hat
+and faced round on his sister-in-law.
+
+'This is a very sad business,' he said, still with the same portentous
+air of solemnity. 'I am sorry to say your sister is dreadfully upset.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not,' returned Audrey quickly.
+
+'I have never seen her more upset about anything. She hardly slept at
+all last night, and I was half afraid I should have to send for Dr.
+Musgrave this morning: she was not quite strong enough to bear such a
+shock.'
+
+'Gage is so sensitive, you see.'
+
+'She is not more sensitive than other people,' feeling himself bound to
+defend his wife's nerves. 'I am not in the least surprised to find how
+much she has taken it to heart. I think she feels very properly about
+it. We are both as disappointed as possible--we hoped better things of
+you, Audrey.'
+
+'Is not that a little severe?'
+
+'I think not. I am bound to tell you the truth plainly, that Geraldine
+and I strongly disapprove of this engagement.'
+
+'I am so sorry,' returned Audrey, with provoking good-humour; 'but you
+see, Percival, one must be guided by one's own feelings in such a
+personal matter; and I hope when you and Gage know Mr. Blake a little
+better that you will alter your opinion.'
+
+'I am afraid I must differ from you there, even at the risk of
+displeasing you. I must say that I think Mr. Blake is the last man to
+make you happy.'
+
+'Now, what reason can you have for making such a sweeping assertion?'
+asked Audrey, waxing a little warm at this. Percival had no right to
+stand there lecturing her after this fashion; it was not in a
+brother-in-law's province to interfere with her choice of a lover. If
+her parents had given their sanction to her engagement, and allowed her
+to throw herself away on a poor man, it was surely no one else's
+business to say a dissenting word. Percival might go home and lecture
+his own wife if he liked. 'It is a pity you and Gage are so worldly,'
+she said, in what was meant to be a withering tone. Audrey had never
+been so near quarrelling with her brother-in-law.
+
+'Worldly?' he repeated, in rather a perplexed tone. 'My dear girl, I
+confess I do not understand you.'
+
+'It is very easy to understand,' she returned coldly. 'You and Gage
+object to Mr. Blake because he is poor and has not made his position;
+you think I am throwing myself away, because I have engaged myself to a
+junior classical master who has to work his way up.'
+
+'Just so,' observed Mr. Harcourt; 'that is exactly what we do think.'
+
+'And yet you are surprised because I call you worldly. If you only knew
+how differently father and I think! Perhaps he is disappointed
+too--indeed, I know that he is; he wanted me to marry an older man--but,
+all the same, he agrees with me, that a man so honourable and clever,
+one who has borne so high a character, who is so good a son and brother,
+would be likely to make a woman happy.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt shrugged his shoulders. They were arguing from different
+points. Audrey was not likely to convince him: he had started with a
+preconceived dislike to the whole business. He now proceeded to pull
+Audrey's impulsive speech to pieces.
+
+'I do not deny that Blake is a good fellow, and he is clever, too; but
+in marrying him you will be descending in the social scale. Who are the
+Blakes? No one knows anything about them--Edith always declared the
+father was a City man--but we do know that his mother is distinctly
+objectionable!'
+
+'Excuse me, Percival, but you are speaking of a close friend. Even if
+she were not Cyril's mother, my friendship for her should prevent you
+from speaking against her in my presence.'
+
+Mr. Harcourt groaned as he heard the word 'Cyril,' but he felt at the
+same time that he had gone too far: his quick temper had carried him
+away. He hastened to apologise.
+
+'You must forgive me, Audrey, if I speak a little too plainly. But this
+is such a bitter disappointment to me, my very affection for you makes
+me object all the more strongly to this engagement. As Geraldine said to
+me last night, she has only one sister--and this makes it all the harder
+for her.'
+
+'Yes, I understand; and I am very sorry to disappoint you both. But,
+Percival, the thing is done now, and I want you and Gage to make the
+best of it.'
+
+'Will you not reconsider your decision?' he asked, and there was
+softness and real affection in his look. 'Perhaps, after all, you may
+have mistaken your feelings; a girl is sometimes talked into a thing.'
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+'I have not mistaken them,' she said quietly. 'Don't say any more,
+Percival; I have no wish to quarrel; and, of course, I am a little sore
+about this.'
+
+Then Mr. Harcourt felt that his mission had been unsuccessful; the girl
+was contumacious, and would listen to no one.
+
+'It's all Dr. Ross's fault,' he said to himself, as he took up his hat
+and prepared to walk with her to Hillside. 'If he had refused his
+consent she would have given the thing up; but in worldly matters my
+respected father-in-law is a mere child.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+HOW GERALDINE TOOK IT TO HEART
+
+     'This world is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who
+     feel.'--HORACE WALPOLE.
+
+
+It may be doubted if either Audrey or her brother-in-law enjoyed their
+walk to Hillside. Mr. Harcourt felt that he had failed signally in his
+brotherly mission, and any sort of failure was intolerable to him. To do
+him justice, he was thinking only of Audrey's future welfare. As he took
+up the wide clerical-looking hat that he affected, and walked with her
+down the terrace, he told himself sorrowfully that he might as well have
+held his tongue; but, all the same, he could not refrain from speaking
+another word or two.
+
+'I do so wish I could make you see this thing as your friends will see
+it!' he said, no longer laying down the law, but speaking in a tone of
+mild insistence, as became a man who knew himself to be right. 'They may
+not be so closely interested in the matter, but perhaps their view may
+be less prejudiced. Think, my dear girl, what a serious, what a terrible
+thing it would be if you were to discover too late that you had made a
+mistake!'
+
+'I should never own it to be one,' she said, trying to smile; but it
+could not be denied that she found her brother-in-law a little
+depressing; 'and you may be quite sure that I should abide by it. There
+is a fund of obstinacy in my nature that no one seems to have discovered
+but myself.'
+
+Then Mr. Harcourt gave vent to an impatient sigh. He must leave her to
+Geraldine, he thought; but even then he could not forbear from one
+Parthian thrust.
+
+'You will live to repent it,' he said very seriously, 'and then you will
+remember my warning. You must not look to me to help you out of your
+difficulties then, Audrey; I would have done anything for you now.'
+
+'I will promise you that I will not ask for your help,' she returned, so
+promptly that he looked quite hurt. And she hastened to soften her
+words. 'If one makes a mistake of that kind, one must only look to one's
+self.'
+
+'I have always regarded your interests as identical with Edith's,' he
+returned a little stiffly. 'I mean, I have always treated you as though
+you were my own sister; but, of course, if you cannot rely on me as your
+brother----'
+
+But Audrey would not let him finish his sentence.
+
+'Why, Percival,' she said gently, 'I do believe you are quarrelling with
+me, just because I am taking you at your word. Are you not just a little
+illogical for once? In one breath you tell me not to look to you for
+help, and then you reproach me with unsisterly feelings. How are we to
+understand each other at this rate?'
+
+Then a faint smile played round Mr. Harcourt's mouth. It was true that,
+in the heat of argument, he did not always measure his words; even
+Geraldine had ventured to tell him so once.
+
+'Well, well, we will say no more about it,' he returned somewhat
+magnanimously; and though he could not pluck up spirit to turn the
+conversation into another channel, he refrained from any more depressing
+remarks. He gave her a friendly nod and smile as they parted in the
+hall.
+
+'You will find Geraldine in the morning-room,' he said; and Audrey was
+much relieved that he did not offer to accompany her.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt evidently regarded herself as an invalid that morning. She
+was sitting in the corner of the big couch, in her pale-pink tea-gown.
+She rose at her sister's entrance, however, and crossed the room with
+languid steps.
+
+'Did Percival bring you?' she asked, as she kissed her.
+
+Audrey felt as though she were to blame when she saw Geraldine's heavy
+eyes.
+
+'I am afraid you are far from well, Gage,' she said a little anxiously,
+for, after all, Geraldine was her only sister, and if things should go
+wrong with her----. She felt a momentary compunction--one of those keen,
+pin-like pricks of conscience--as she remembered how often she had been
+vexed with her little ways.
+
+Mrs. Harcourt looked at her mournfully.
+
+'How can I be well?' she said, with reproachful sweetness in her voice.
+'I do not think I had three hours' sleep last night. Percival got quite
+concerned about me at last. Oh, Audrey, you have made me so very
+unhappy!' and her eyes filled with tears.
+
+'My dear Gage, I would not willingly make you unhappy for worlds!'
+
+'But, all the same, it has been such a shock--such a cruel
+disappointment to us both! Percival was nearly as upset about it as I
+was. If you could have seen him walking up and down the room last night!
+"She must be mad to throw herself away in this fashion!"--he would say
+nothing else for a long time.'
+
+'I am quite aware of Percival's sentiments,' returned Audrey coldly.
+
+Her manner alarmed Geraldine. 'But you have not quarrelled with him for
+telling you the truth?' she asked with unmistakable anxiety. 'Oh,
+Audrey, you do not know how fond Percival is of you! He is as proud of
+you as though you were his own sister. He has always looked forward to
+your marriage. He used to say none of the men he knew were half good
+enough for you; that you ought to have someone who would be in every way
+your superior, and to whom you could look up.'
+
+'Yes, and it is such a blessing that I can look up to Cyril.'
+
+'But he is so young; and though he is nice--yes, of course, he is very
+nice and good-looking and clever--still one wants more in a husband.
+Somehow I never realised these things until I was actually standing at
+the altar with Percival and said those solemn words for myself: "For
+better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health,
+until death us do part." I felt then that if I had not been so sure of
+Percival I would rather have died than have said those words.'
+
+A faint shiver passed over Audrey as Geraldine spoke. She had never
+heard her talk in this way before. 'Dear, dear Audrey,' she continued,
+taking her sister's hand; 'can you wonder that I am anxious that you
+should be as happy as I am, that it nearly breaks my heart to know that
+you are taking this false step?'
+
+A painful flush crossed Audrey's face. This was a worse ordeal than she
+had expected. She had been prepared for reproaches, even for bitter
+words; but this softness, this tearful and caressing gentleness, seemed
+to deprive her of all strength, to cut away the ground from under her
+feet. She was at once touched and grateful for her sister's forbearance.
+
+'You are very good to me, Gage,' she said in a low voice; 'I know how
+utterly I have disappointed you and Percival--and from a worldly point
+of view I daresay you are both right. Cyril is poor, he has to work his
+way up, he is not what people would call a good match; but then, you
+know, I have always been terribly unpractical.'
+
+'It is not only that,' sighed Geraldine; 'as far as Mr. Blake is
+concerned, one cannot say much against him; he is very gentlemanly. I
+suppose one would get used to him, though I shall never, never think him
+good enough for you. But there are other objections: the idea that Mrs.
+Blake will be your mother-in-law makes me utterly wretched.'
+
+'Poor woman! she is so nice, and I am so fond of her. I often wonder why
+you are so prejudiced against her, Gage; but of course it is all that
+tiresome Mrs. Bryce.'
+
+'No, indeed, it is not,' returned Mrs. Harcourt quickly. 'I do not want
+to vex you, Audrey; things are miserable enough without our quarrelling,
+and however unhappy you make me, I will never quarrel with my only
+sister. But you must let me say this for once, that I cannot like Mrs.
+Blake. From the first moment I have distrusted her, and I know Percival
+feels the same.'
+
+'But, Gage, do be reasonable. I am going to marry Cyril, not Mrs.
+Blake!'
+
+'When a woman marries she enters her husband's family,' returned
+Geraldine in her old decided manner; 'you will belong to them, not to
+us--at least,' correcting herself, as the thought of her daily visits to
+Woodcote occurred to her, 'you will have to share your husband's
+interests and responsibilities with regard to his family. You cannot
+divide yourself from him without failing in your wifely duty.'
+
+'I am quite of your opinion,' returned Audrey happily; 'Cyril's mother
+and Kester and Mollie will be very dear to me. I never dreamt for one
+moment of separating my interests from his.'
+
+'If I thought you really loved him----' observed Geraldine, but here she
+stopped, warned by an indignant flash in Audrey's gray eyes.
+
+'You might have spared me that, Gage,' she said, rather sadly; 'I think
+I have had enough to bear already from you and Percival. You have done
+your best to depress and dishearten me; you have not even wished me
+happiness.' Then Geraldine burst into tears.
+
+'I don't want to be unkind,' she sobbed, in such distress that Audrey
+repented her quick words; 'but you must give me time to get over this.
+It is the first real trouble I have ever had.' And then, as Audrey
+kissed her and coaxed her, she allowed herself to be somewhat consoled.
+
+'You know you must think of yourself, Gage; you must not make yourself
+ill about me. I am not worth it.' Then Geraldine did summon up a smile.
+
+'And you will be good to Cyril? The poor fellow could not help falling
+in love with me, you know.'
+
+'Of course we shall behave properly to him,' returned Geraldine, drawing
+herself up a little stiffly; 'you must not expect us to receive him with
+open arms. Mr. Blake must know how entirely we disapprove of the
+engagement; but, of course, as my father has given his consent, we have
+no right to make ourselves disagreeable. You must give me a little time,
+Audrey, just to recover myself, and then he shall be asked to dinner.'
+
+'I hope you will not ask me at the same time!' exclaimed Audrey in
+genuine alarm; and Geraldine looked rather shocked.
+
+'Of course you must come with him! that is understood. You will be asked
+everywhere if--if----' looking at her suggestively, 'you mean your
+engagement to be known.'
+
+'Most certainly! I object very strongly to secrecy under any
+circumstances.'
+
+'Then in that case you must be prepared for congratulations and a round
+of dinners.'
+
+'I prefer congratulations to condolences,' returned Audrey a little
+wickedly; and then, as though to atone for her joke, she suddenly knelt
+down before her sister and put her arms round her. 'Dear Gage, I do feel
+such a wretch for having upset you like this. No wonder Percival owes me
+a grudge. Now, do say something nice to me before I go--there's a
+darling!' and, of course, Geraldine melted in a moment.
+
+'I do pray, with all my heart, that you may be happy,' she sighed, and
+then they kissed each other very affectionately. 'Give my love to
+mother, and tell her I am not well enough to come to her to-day,' were
+Geraldine's parting words as Audrey left her.
+
+Mr. Harcourt came out of his study the moment he heard the door close.
+
+'Well,' he asked, with a shade of anxiety in his tone, 'have you made
+any impression, my dear?'
+
+'No, Percy,' returned his wife sadly. 'She is bent on taking her own
+way--the Blake influence is far too strong.'
+
+'Ah, well,' in a tone of strong disgust, 'she is making her own bed, and
+must lie on it. It was an evil day for all of us when your father
+engaged Blake for his junior classical master. I wanted him to have
+Sowerby--Sowerby is the better man, and all his people are
+gentlefolks--but there is no turning the Doctor when he has got an idea
+in his head: no one but Blake would do. And now mischief has come of it.
+But, all the same, I won't have you making yourself ill about
+it--remember that, my love. You have got me to think about, and I don't
+choose to have my wife spoiling her eyes after this fashion. It is too
+damp for you to go out, for there has been a sharp shower or two; but I
+have half an hour to spare, and can read to you if you like.' And to
+this Geraldine gratefully assented.
+
+It may be doubted whether she heard much of the brilliant essay that Mr.
+Harcourt had selected for her delectation, but it was very soothing to
+lie there and listen to her husband's voice. The sentences grew involved
+presently, and there was a humming, as though of bees, in the quiet
+room. Mr. Harcourt smiled to himself as he went on reading--the sleep
+would do her more good than the essay, he thought; and in this he was
+right.
+
+When Mrs. Ross received her daughter's message she at once prepared to
+go up to Hillside, and spent the remainder of the afternoon there.
+
+Geraldine had awakened from her nap much refreshed, and was disposed to
+take a less lugubrious view of things. She was certainly somewhat
+depressing at first, and her mother found her implied reproaches
+somewhat hard to bear; but she was still too languid and subdued to
+speak with her usual decision.
+
+'I suppose that we shall have to make the best of it,' she observed
+presently, in a resigned tone of voice. 'It will always be a great
+trouble to me--but one must expect trouble in this world, as I said to
+Percy just now. I am afraid we have been too happy.'
+
+'Oh, my dear! you must not say such things.'
+
+'It is better to say them than to think them. Percy never minds how much
+I complain to him, if I will only not brood over worries by myself. He
+says that it is so bad for me.'
+
+'Percival is quite right, my love;' and Mrs. Ross looked anxiously at
+her daughter's pale face. 'But you know your one duty is to keep
+yourself cheerful. Try and put all this away from your mind, and leave
+Audrey to be happy in her own way. Mr. Blake is really a very nice
+lovable fellow, and I am quite fond of him already, and so is your
+father--and I am sure your father is a good judge of character.'
+
+'Yes, mother dear; and you must not think Percy and I mean to be
+tiresome and disagreeable. It is not the young man so much that we
+mind--though we shall always think Audrey is lowering herself in
+marrying him--but it is that odious Mrs. Blake.'
+
+Then, for the moment, Mrs. Ross felt herself uncomfortable. Mrs. Blake
+had called on her that very morning, while Audrey was at Hillside, and
+in spite of her mildness and toleration she had been obliged to confess
+to herself that Mrs. Blake's manners had not quite pleased her.
+Geraldine managed to extract the whole account of the interview, though
+Mrs. Ross gave it rather reluctantly.
+
+'And I suppose she was absurdly impulsive, as usual, mother?' she asked,
+when Mrs. Ross had finished a somewhat brief narrative.
+
+'Well, yes. She is always rather effusive; people have their own style,
+you see.'
+
+'Only Mrs. Blake's is, unfortunately, a very bad style.'
+
+'I daresay you are right, my dear, and I certainly prefer a quieter
+manner; and it was not quite good taste lauding your father and me to
+the skies for our goodness in allowing the match. Poor woman! I daresay
+she was a little excited; only it was a pity to let her feelings carry
+her away--still, she was very nice about Audrey.'
+
+'She will be her daughter-in-law, you know.'
+
+Then Mrs. Ross winced slightly. She was glad that Mrs. Charrington was
+that moment announced--she was a pleasant chatty woman, and always paid
+long visits: Geraldine was her special favourite. As the news of the
+engagement had not yet reached her, the talk was confined to certain
+local interests: a new grant of books to the library, the difficulty of
+finding a butler, and the lameness of one of Dr. Ross's carriage-horses;
+and Mrs. Ross was in this manner relieved from any more awkward
+questions.
+
+Her husband was her only confidant, and to him she did disburden
+herself.
+
+'I do wish that Mrs. Blake were a different sort of woman, John,' she
+observed that night. 'She is very handsome and amusing; but she is
+certainly too unrestrained in her talk.'
+
+'We must take folk as we find them, Emmie,' returned Dr. Ross quietly.
+'Mrs. Blake is not your sort. In spite of having a grown-up son, she is
+not quite grown-up herself: middle-aged people ought not to talk out all
+their feelings as though they were children. But she is a very pleasing
+person for all that.'
+
+'So I always thought; but she tires one. Not that I would let Audrey
+know that.'
+
+'Oh, Audrey would keep a dozen Mrs. Blakes in order,' was her husband's
+response; and then Mrs. Ross said no more.
+
+Geraldine kept her word, and about a week later Cyril Blake received a
+civil little note, asking him to dine at Hillside on the following
+evening.
+
+'We shall be quite by ourselves. It will be only a family party--just my
+husband's brother, Mr. Walter Harcourt, and his wife;' for the Walter
+Harcourts had come on a visit.
+
+Cyril looked a little grave as he showed the note to Audrey.
+
+'I suppose I must go; but it will be very terrible. I don't mind telling
+you, Audrey, that I am awfully afraid of your sister.'
+
+'Poor fellow!' returned Audrey, with one of her charming smiles; 'I wish
+I could spare you this ordeal. But I can give you one bit of comfort:
+Gage will behave very nicely to you.' And though Cyril still felt a
+little dubious on this point, he was obliged to own afterwards that she
+was right.
+
+The evening was a far pleasanter one than he expected. Mr. Harcourt was
+thawed by his brother's presence, and though there was a slight
+stiffness and reserve in his manner to Cyril, there was no
+aggressiveness; and Geraldine was too much of a gentlewoman to behave
+ungraciously to any guest. Both of them were quite civil to Cyril,
+though they could not be said to be demonstrative, and there was no
+attempt to treat him as one of themselves.
+
+Mr. Walter Harcourt was a barrister, and was rapidly rising in his
+profession. He was considerably younger than his brother, and had
+recently married a wealthy young widow. He was a clever talker, and his
+stock of legal anecdotes kept them all well amused. He and Audrey were
+old friends, and at one time Geraldine and her husband had privately
+hoped that their acquaintance might ripen into a tenderer feeling.
+
+As soon as the ladies reached the drawing-room, Mrs. Walter Harcourt,
+who was a pretty, vivacious little woman, observed confidentially to
+Geraldine:
+
+'My dear, I must congratulate you. That future brother-in-law of yours
+is one of the handsomest men I have ever seen. I always thought Walter a
+good-looking fellow, and I daresay you thought much the same of
+Percival; but both our husbands looked very ordinary people beside him.
+In fact, Walter was quite clumsy.'
+
+'Nonsense, Maggie!' returned Geraldine, glancing behind her to see if
+Audrey were within earshot. 'How can you make such absurd comparisons?
+Of course Mr. Blake is good-looking; but, for my own part, I always
+distrust handsome men.'
+
+'They are generally such fools, you see. I hate talking to a man who is
+too self-engrossed to pay me attention. But Mr. Blake is thoroughly
+nice. I must go to Audrey and tell her how much I admire her _fiance_.'
+
+'Thank goodness, that is over!' exclaimed Cyril fervently, as Audrey
+joined him in the porch. 'I have not had a word with you yet.'
+
+Audrey smiled as she gathered up her long dress and stepped out into the
+dark shrubberies.
+
+'It was very pleasant,' she observed tranquilly. 'The Walter Harcourts
+are clever, amusing people. You got on capitally with both of them; and,
+Cyril, I am sure Gage was as nice as possible.'
+
+'Oh yes!' he returned quickly; 'and I admire her excessively; but, all
+the same, I shall never feel at my ease with her.' And, as Audrey
+uttered a protest at this, he continued seriously: 'Of course, I know
+what Mrs. Harcourt thinks of my presumption; her manner told me that at
+once. "You are not one of us"--that is what her tone said to me; and yet
+she was quite kind and civil. Oh, Audrey'--interrupting himself, and
+speaking almost passionately--'if I were only more worthy of you! But
+have patience with me, and your people shall respect me yet.'
+
+'Dear Cyril, please do not talk so!' and Audrey stole closer to him in
+the October darkness. 'You have behaved so beautifully to-night, and I
+felt, oh! so proud of my sweetheart. And if I am content, what does it
+matter what other people think?'
+
+'Forgive me, darling,' he returned remorsefully; 'I am only sometimes a
+little sore because I can give you so little.'
+
+And then his mood changed, for the subtle comfort of her sweet words
+was thrilling through him; for he was young, and the girl he worshipped
+from the depths of his honest heart was alone with him under the dim,
+cloudy skies. Was it any wonder that the world was forgotten, and only
+the golden haze of the future seemed before them, as they walked
+together through the quiet streets to Woodcote?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+WHAT MICHAEL THOUGHT OF IT
+
+     'Not to be solitary one must possess, entirely to one's self, a
+     human creature, and belong exclusively to her (or him).'--GUIZOT.
+
+     'How, then, is one to recover courage enough for action?
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     By extracting a richer experience out of our losses and
+     lessons.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+Captain Burnett had finished his troublesome piece of business, and was
+thinking of his return home. His friend was, metaphorically speaking, on
+his feet again, and Michael was now free to leave London. He had waited,
+however, for another day or two on Kester's account; the friendly doctor
+who had undertaken to look into his case had already done wonders.
+Kester was making rapid progress under his care, and his bright looks
+and evident enjoyment of his town life reconciled Michael to their long,
+protracted stay.
+
+'We must certainly go back to Rutherford next week,' he observed one
+morning, as they sat at breakfast together.
+
+Kester had some appointment with Fred Somers that called him out early,
+and Captain Burnett good-naturedly left his letters unread, that he
+might pour out the coffee and attend to his wants.
+
+'They will keep, and I have nothing to do this morning,' he remarked
+carelessly, as he took them up and laid them down again.
+
+After all, he would not be sorry to read them alone. There was an Indian
+letter, and one from Audrey, and several notes that were evidently
+invitations.
+
+When Kester had left him, he sat down in an easy-chair by the window.
+There was a little table beside him, with a red jar full of brown leaves
+and chrysanthemums. He picked out one and played with it for a moment,
+and then Booty jumped up uninvited and curled himself up on his knee.
+
+He read the invitations first, and then threw them aside.
+
+'I shall be at Rutherford,' he thought; and then he opened his Indian
+letter.
+
+It was from a fellow-officer, and contained an amusing account of a
+visit he had lately paid to Calcutta. Just at the end it said: 'By the
+bye, somebody told me the other day that your uncle, Mr. Carlisle, was
+ill. He has got a nasty attack, and the doctors are shaking their heads
+over him. The fellow who told me--it was Donarton--mentioned that you
+were likely to take a lively interest in the news. Is that true, old
+man, or has Mr. Carlisle any nearer relative than yourself? From what I
+hear, he is a sort of nabob in these parts.'
+
+Captain Burnett put down this letter, and looked dreamily out of the
+window. Was it really so, he wondered? Major Glenyow was not the sort of
+fellow to mention a mere report. His uncle was by no means an old man,
+and once or twice a rumour of his intended marriage had reached his
+ears, but it had never been verified. If it were true that his uncle
+were in a bad way, that he should not recover, then, indeed, there was a
+possibility. And here, in spite of himself, Michael fell into a
+day-dream.
+
+If he were rich, if he had sufficient to offer a comfortable home and
+some of the luxuries of life to the woman he wished to make his wife,
+would it be right for him to speak? For years his poverty and ill-health
+had kept him silent; he had made no sign: he had been her faithful
+friend and cousin--that was all!
+
+But now, if the pressure of narrow means were removed, if, after all, he
+were his uncle's heir--as he verily believed himself to be--might he not
+venture to plead his cause at last? His health was better, and his
+doctor had often told him, half seriously and half in joke, that all he
+needed was a good wife to take care of him.
+
+'I shall never be as strong as other men,' he said to himself; 'some
+women might object to me on that score. But she is not that sort: she
+loves to take care of people, to feel herself necessary to them.' And
+here a smile came to his lips. 'I have never spoken to her, never
+dropped a hint of my feelings; but, somehow, I do not think she would be
+surprised if I ever told them--we have been so much to each other. I
+think I could teach her to love me in time--at least, I would try, my
+sweet.' And here there was a sudden gleam and fire in his eyes, and then
+he took up Audrey's letter, and began to read it.
+
+But when he had finished the first sentence, a curious dull feeling came
+over him, and he found that he could not understand what he was reading;
+he must go over the passage again. But as he re-read it the same
+numbness and impossibility of comprehension came over him; and yet the
+words were very clearly written:
+
+'Shall you be very much surprised, my dear Michael, to hear some news I
+have to tell you? I am engaged to Mr. Blake. I will tell you all about
+it presently, just as though you were my father-confessor; I will not
+hide one little thing from you. But I was never one to beat about the
+bush, and I hope my abruptness has not made you jump; but oh, Michael
+dear, I am so happy!' etc.
+
+He read this sentence half a dozen times, until something of its meaning
+had taken hold of his dense brain; and then he read the letter straight
+through to the very end, slowly, and often pausing over a sentence that
+seemed to him a little involved. And as he read there was a pinched gray
+look upon his face, as though some sudden illness had seized him; but he
+was not conscious of any active pain, though the whole plan and purpose
+of his life lay crushed in the dust before him, like the chrysanthemum
+that Booty was tearing, petal by petal, until his master's coat-sleeve
+was covered with golden-brown shreds. On the contrary, as he sat there,
+holding the letter between his limp hands, his mind wandered off to a
+story he had once read.
+
+Was it the wreck of the _Royal George_, he wondered? The name of the
+vessel had escaped him, but he knew the story was a true one; it had
+really happened. He had read how the vessel was doomed. She was a
+troop-ship, and there were hundreds of brave English soldiers on board;
+and when they knew there was no hope, the officers drew up their men on
+the deck, just as though they were on parade; and the gallant fellows
+stood there, in rank and file, as they went down to their watery grave.
+
+'And not a man of them flinched, you may depend on that,' he said, half
+aloud; 'for they were Englishmen, and Englishmen know how to die.'
+
+And it seemed to him that he was still ruminating over this old story
+that had happened so many, many years ago, when Kester returned, and he
+must needs tell him the story again, and he told it very well, too.
+
+'And not a man of them flinched,' he repeated, rising a little feebly
+from his chair, 'for they were Englishmen, and Englishmen know how to
+die. Why are you staring at me, boy? It is a good story, is it not?'
+
+'Very good indeed, but I was only afraid you were not quite well,
+Captain Burnett; you look so queer, somehow, and your hand is shaking.'
+
+'I have sat too long. I think I must walk off my stiffness. Don't wait
+lunch for me, Kester. I may go to my club.'
+
+And then he took down his hat, and went out in the streets, with Booty
+ambling along at his heels.
+
+But he did not go far; he strolled into the Park and sat down on a
+bench. The air refreshed him, and the miserable numb feelings left him,
+and he had power to think.
+
+But there were deep lines in his face as he sat there, and a great
+sadness in his eyes, and just before he rose to go home a few words
+escaped him. 'Oh, my darling, what a mistake, when you belong to me!
+Will you ever find it out for yourself? Will you ever recognise that it
+is a mistake?' And then he set his teeth hard, like a man who knows his
+strength and refuses to be beaten.
+
+And the next morning, as they sat at breakfast, Michael looked up from
+his newspaper and asked Kester if he had heard the Rutherford news.
+
+'Perhaps your mother or Mollie has written to you?' he observed, as he
+carelessly scanned the columns.
+
+Kester looked up a little anxiously.
+
+'No one has told me anything,' he said, rather nervously. 'I hope it is
+not bad news.'
+
+'Most people would call it good news. Your brother and Miss Ross are
+engaged. Well'--as Kester jumped from his seat flushing scarlet--'aren't
+you delighted? I think you ought to write a pretty note to Miss Ross to
+go with my letter.'
+
+'Have you written to her? Will you give her a message from me? I would
+rather write to Cyril. I don't take it in, somehow; you are quite sure
+it is true, Captain Burnett? Of course, I am glad that Cyril should be
+happy, but I always thought----'
+
+And here Kester stammered and got confused; but Michael did not help
+him. He took up his paper again, and left him to finish his breakfast in
+silence, and after that he remarked that he was going down to his club.
+
+Kester curled himself up on the window-seat as soon as he was left
+alone, and fell into a brown study. Somehow he could not make it out at
+all. He was sharp-witted by nature, and years of suffering and forced
+inaction had made him more thoughtful than most boys of his age. He had
+long ago grasped the idea that his idolised hero was not happy, and
+during their stay in Scotland some dim surmise of the truth had occurred
+to him.
+
+'Dear old Cyril!' he observed, half aloud; 'I am awfully glad for his
+sake; but it always seemed to me as though Miss Ross were a cut above
+us. If only I were sure that he was glad, too.'
+
+And here a troubled look crossed the boy's face; he was thinking of the
+story Captain Burnett had told him yesterday, and of the strange dazed
+look in Michael's eyes: 'And not a man of them flinched; for they were
+Englishmen, and Englishmen know how to die.' 'Ah, and to live, too!'
+thought Kester, as he roused himself at last and sat down to his Greek.
+
+When Audrey heard that Michael was really coming home, she felt as
+though she had nothing more to wish. She had read his letter at least a
+dozen times; its brotherly tenderness and anxiety for her welfare had
+touched her to the heart.
+
+'I am very grateful for your confidence,' he wrote, after a few earnest
+wishes for her happiness. 'I would like, if it were possible, to keep my
+old place as Mentor--we have always been such friends, dear, such true
+and trusty comrades; and I do not think that Mr. Blake will object to my
+cousinly surveillance. I could not afford to lose you out of my life,
+Audrey; so let me subscribe myself, now and for ever, your faithful
+friend and brother--MICHAEL.'
+
+Audrey sighed gently as she put down the letter; it touched, but it did
+not completely satisfy her. Michael had not said he was glad to hear of
+her engagement. He was truthful almost to a fault. The conventional
+falsehoods that other men uttered were never on his lips. If he could
+not approve, he would take refuge in silence. 'Silence never damages a
+man's character,' he was fond of saying; but many people found this
+oppressive. Audrey had secretly longed for some such word of approval.
+If Michael had only told her that he applauded her courage in marrying a
+poor man, if he had praised her unworldliness, she would have been
+utterly content; but the letter that Michael had written with a breaking
+heart held no such comfort for her. He had accepted her decision without
+a word, and though his message of congratulation to Cyril was all that
+could be wished, there was no further allusion to him.
+
+'Michael thinks I have been rash,' she said to herself a little
+sorrowfully. 'I suppose he, too, considers that Cyril is rather too
+young. If Michael were only on our side, I should not care what the rest
+of the world thinks;' and then she folded up the letter.
+
+But on the day Michael was expected her face was so radiant that Cyril
+pretended to be jealous. 'You are very fond of your cousin,' he observed
+as he followed her to the window, where she was watching the clouds a
+little anxiously.
+
+Audrey heard him rather absently. She was thinking that the dampness
+might bring on Michael's neuralgia, and that, if he had only named his
+train, the carriage might have been sent for him--indeed, she would have
+driven out herself to meet him and Kester. 'Oh yes,' she rejoined; 'I
+have missed him terribly all this time. Nothing is right without
+Michael----' and as Cyril looked a little surprised at this, she added
+quickly: 'He is like my own brother, Cyril, so it is perfectly natural,
+you see; ever since his illness he has been one of us.' And as Cyril
+professed himself satisfied with this explanation, there was nothing
+more said, and Audrey went up to put the finishing touches to Michael's
+rooms, and to arrange the chrysanthemums and coloured leaves in the big
+Indian jars. If she had only known how Michael would shudder at the
+sight of these chrysanthemums! He had taken a dislike to the flowers
+ever since Booty had covered his coat-sleeve with golden-brown petals.
+
+After all, Michael came before he was expected. Audrey was sitting
+chatting to her mother in the twilight, when they heard the hall door
+open and close, and the next moment they saw Michael standing on the
+threshold looking at them.
+
+'My dear Michael!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross; but Audrey had already crossed
+the room: both her hands were in Michael's, and he was looking at her
+with his old kind smile, though he did not say a word; but Audrey did
+not seem to notice his silence.
+
+'Have you walked from the Gray Cottage? We did not hear any wheels. Why
+did you not let us know your train, and I would have driven in to meet
+you? Mother, I am going to ring for the lamp and tea; Michael will be
+tired!' And Audrey did as she said, and then picked up Booty and
+lavished all sorts of caresses on the little animal, while she listened
+to the quiet explanations that Michael was giving to Mrs. Ross.
+
+'You are looking very well, Audrey,' he said at last; 'you have not lost
+your moorland colour yet.' And though he said this in his usual tone,
+he thought that never in his life had he seen her look so sweet.
+
+'I wish I could return the compliment,' was her answer; 'you are looking
+thin and pale, Michael. You have been giving us such a good account of
+yourself, but London never suits you.'
+
+'I think it suits me better than it did,' he returned quietly; but he
+could not quite meet her affectionate look. 'I shall have to run up
+there pretty frequently now; one must look up one's friends more: out of
+sight is out of mind in many cases.'
+
+Audrey gave an incredulous smile. She thought Michael would not act up
+to this resolution; but he fully meant what he said. Woodcote, dearly as
+he loved it, would never be his home now. Of course, he would do things
+by degrees: his brief absences should grow longer and more frequent,
+until they had become used to them; and perhaps in time he might break
+with his old life altogether. But he put away these thoughts, and talked
+to them in his usual easy fashion, asking questions about Geraldine and
+her husband; and presently Dr. Ross came in and monopolised him
+entirely.
+
+Audrey felt as though she had not had a word with him when she went
+upstairs to dress for dinner. True, he had asked after Cyril, and
+inquired if he were coming in that evening; but on Audrey's replying in
+the negative he had made no observation.
+
+'When father is in the room he never will let Michael talk to anyone
+else,' she said to herself rather discontentedly; 'if I could only get
+him alone!'
+
+She had her wish presently, for on her return to the drawing-room she
+found him lying back in an easy-chair, looking at the fire. He was
+evidently thinking intently, for he did not hear her entrance until she
+was close beside him; but at the touch of her hand on his shoulder he
+started violently.
+
+'A penny for your thoughts, Michael,' she said gaily, as he jumped up
+and stood beside her on the rug.
+
+'They are too valuable to be saleable,' he returned lightly; 'suppose
+you let me hear yours instead.'
+
+'You shall have them and welcome. Oh, Michael, how delicious it is to be
+talking to you again; letters are so stupid and unsatisfactory!'
+
+'Do you mean my letters in particular?'
+
+'Oh no! They were as nice as possible; but, all the same, they did not
+quite satisfy me. Do you know,' and here her tone was a little wistful,
+'you have not told me that you are glad about my engagement? You said so
+many nice things; but somehow I was longing for just one word of
+approval from my old Mentor.'
+
+An uneasy flush crossed Michael's face; but the firelight was flickering
+just then, and Audrey could not see him distinctly. For one moment he
+was silent; then he put her gently in a seat and placed himself beside
+her. It would be easier to talk to her so, and perhaps he was conscious
+of some sudden weakness.
+
+'How cold your hands are!' she observed anxiously; 'if you will break
+the big coal the fire will burn more brightly.' And as he obeyed her she
+continued: 'Ah, now we can see each other! I do dislike a flickering,
+uncertain light. Now, will you tell me frankly if you were glad or sorry
+when you got my letter?'
+
+He was more prepared now, and his voice was quite steady as he answered
+her.
+
+'Mentor has no objection to be catechised, but he wishes to put one
+question first. Are you quite content and happy, Audrey?'
+
+'Indeed I am!' turning to him one of the brightest faces he had ever
+seen.
+
+'Then, my dear, I am satisfied, too.'
+
+'Oh, but that will not do! You must tell me your own private opinion. I
+know you like Cyril--you have always spoken well of him; but are you
+sure that in your heart you thoroughly approve my choice?'
+
+She was pressing him close, but he did not flinch; he only turned to her
+rather gravely.
+
+'My dear Audrey, there are limits even to Mentor's privileges. When two
+people make up their minds to take each other for better, for worse, no
+third person has a right to give an opinion. I know little of Mr. Blake,
+but I have already a respect for him. I am perfectly sure that in time
+we shall be good friends.'
+
+'I hope so--I hope so from my heart!' she returned earnestly. 'You are
+very guarded, Michael; and, though you are too kind to say so, I know
+you think I have acted rather hastily. Perhaps you would rather I had
+waited a little longer; but Cyril was so unhappy, and I--well, I was not
+quite comfortable myself. It is so much nicer to have it all settled.'
+
+'Yes, I see.'
+
+'And now everything is just perfect. Oh, Michael, you must not go away
+for a long time! I cannot do without you.'
+
+'I hope you don't expect me to believe that?'
+
+'But it is perfectly true, I assure you. Actually, Cyril pretended to be
+jealous to-day, because I could think of nothing but your coming home.
+He was only teasing me; for of course he understands what we feel for
+each other. If you were my own brother, Michael, I could not want you
+more. But that is the best of Cyril; he is really so unselfish--almost
+as unselfish as you.'
+
+'My dear child,' returned Michael lazily, 'did you ever hear of a
+certain philosopher named Diogenes, and how he set off one day, lamp in
+hand, to search through the city for an honest man? Really, your remark
+makes me inclined to light my own private farthing dip, and look for
+this curious anomaly, an unselfish man.'
+
+'You would not have to go far,' she returned innocently. 'There are two
+of them in Rutherford at the present moment.'
+
+But he only shook his head and laughed at this guileless flattery, and
+at that moment, to his relief, Dr. Ross came into the room.
+
+But as he took his place at the dinner-table he had a curious sensation,
+as though he had been racked; and, though he laughed and talked, he had
+an odd feeling all the time as though he were not quite sure of his own
+identity; and all that evening a few words that Audrey had said haunted
+him like a refrain:
+
+'If you were my own brother, Michael, I could not want you more--if you
+were my own brother I could not want you more!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+MICHAEL TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF
+
+     'My privilege is to be the spectator of my own life-drama, to be
+     fully conscious of the tragi-comedy of my own destiny; and, more
+     than that, to be in the secret of the tragi-comic itself.
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     'Without grief, which is the string of this venturesome kite, man
+     would soar too quickly and too high, and the chosen souls would be
+     lost for the race, like balloons, which, but for gravitation, would
+     never return from the empyrean.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+Michael's return had greatly added to Audrey's happiness. In spite of
+her lover's society and her natural joyousness of disposition, she had
+been conscious that something had been lacking to her complete
+contentment.
+
+'No one but Michael could take Michael's place,' as she told him a
+little pathetically that first evening.
+
+But when a few days had elapsed she became aware that things were not
+quite the same between them--that the Michael who had come back to her
+was not exactly the old Michael.
+
+The old Michael had been somewhat of an autocrat--a good-natured
+autocrat, certainly, who tyrannised over her for her own good, and who
+assumed the brotherly right of inquiring into all her movements and
+small daily plans. They had always been much together, especially since
+Geraldine's marriage had deprived her of sisterly companionship; and it
+had been an understood thing in the Ross family that where Audrey was,
+Michael was generally not far off.
+
+Under these circumstances, it was therefore quite natural that Audrey
+should expect her cousin to resume his usual habits. She had counted on
+his companionship during the hours Cyril was engaged in his schoolroom
+duties. In old times Michael had often accompanied her on her visits to
+her various _protegees_; he had always been her escort to the
+garden-parties that were greatly in vogue at Rutherford, or he would
+drive her to Brail or some of the outlying towns or villages where she
+had business.
+
+It was somewhat of a disappointment, then, to find that Michael had
+suddenly turned over a new leaf, and was far too occupied to be at her
+beck and call. Kester came to him almost daily, and it became his custom
+to spend the remainder of the morning in Dr. Ross's study. He had a
+habit, too, of writing his letters after luncheon; in fact, he was
+seldom disengaged until the evening, when he was always ready to take
+his place in the family circle.
+
+Audrey accused herself of selfishness. Of course she ought to be glad
+that Michael's health had so much improved. Her father was always
+remarking on the change in a tone of satisfaction.
+
+'He is like the old Mike,' he said once; 'he has taken a new departure,
+and has shaken off his listlessness. Why, he works quite steadily now
+for hours without knocking up. He is a different man. He takes a class
+for me every morning; it does me good to see him with half a dozen boys
+round him. Blake will have to look out for himself; he is hardly as
+popular as the Captain.'
+
+Audrey took herself to task severely when her father said this. It was
+evident that Michael had spoilt her. She was determined not to
+monopolise him so selfishly; but, somehow, when it came to the point,
+she was always forgetting these good resolutions.
+
+And another thing puzzled Audrey: Michael was certainly quieter than he
+used to be; when they were alone--which was a rare occurrence now--he
+seemed to have so little to say to her. Sometimes he would take up his
+book and read out a few passages, but if she begged him to put it down
+and talk to her instead, he would dispute the point in the most tiresome
+fashion.
+
+'I think people talk too much, nowadays,' he would say in his lazy way;
+'it is all lip-service now. If women would only cultivate their minds a
+little more, and learn to hold their tongues until they have something
+worth saying, the world would not be flooded with all this muddy
+small-talk. Now, for example, if you would allow me to read you this
+fine passage from Emerson.'
+
+But if Audrey would allow nothing of the kind, and if, on the contrary,
+she manifested an obstinate determination to talk, he would argue with
+her in the same playful fashion; but she could never draw him into one
+of their old confidential talks.
+
+But when they were all together of an evening, Michael would be more
+like his old self. He would sit beside the piano when she sang, and turn
+over the leaves for her, or he would coax her to be his partner in a
+game of whist, and lecture her in his old fashion; but all the time he
+would be looking at her so kindly that his lectures never troubled her
+in the least.
+
+But when Cyril spent the evening at Woodcote, which was generally once
+or twice a week, Michael never seemed to think that they wanted him: he
+would bury himself in his book or paper, or challenge Dr. Ross to a game
+of chess. He never took any notice of Audrey's appealing looks, and her
+kindly attempts to draw him into conversation with her and Cyril were
+all disregarded.
+
+Audrey bore this for some time, and then she made up her mind that she
+must speak to him. She was a little shy of approaching the
+subject--Michael never seemed to give her any opening now--but she felt
+she must have it out with him.
+
+One evening, when she and Cyril had exchanged their parting words in the
+hall, she went back to the drawing-room and found Michael standing alone
+before the fire. She went up to him at once, but as he turned to her she
+was struck with his air of weariness and depression.
+
+'Oh, Michael, how tired you look!' she observed, laying her hand on his
+arm. 'Have you neuralgia again?' And as he shook his head, she continued
+anxiously: 'Are you sure you are quite well--that nothing is troubling
+you? You have been so very quiet this evening. Michael'--and here she
+blushed a little--'I want to say something to you, and yet I hardly know
+how to put it--it is just like your thoughtfulness--but, indeed, there
+is no need: you are never in the way.'
+
+'Is this an enigma? If so, I may as well tell you I give it up at once.
+I never could guess conundrums;' and Michael twirled his moustache in a
+most provoking way; but, all the same, he perfectly understood her. 'I
+give it up,' he repeated.
+
+Audrey pretended to frown.
+
+'Michael, I never knew you so tiresome before. It is impossible to speak
+seriously to you--and I really am serious.' And then her tone changed,
+and she looked at him very gently. 'You mean it so kindly, but indeed it
+is not necessary. Neither Cyril nor I could ever find you in the way.'
+
+He looked down at the rug as she spoke, and there was a moment's
+silence before he answered her. She had come straight to him from her
+lover to say this thing to him. It was so like Audrey to tell him this.
+An odd thought occurred to him as he listened to her--one of those
+sudden flashes of memory that sometimes dart across the mind: he
+remembered that once in his life he had kissed her.
+
+It had been half a lifetime ago. She was only a child. They were staying
+in London, and he had come to see them on his way from some review. He
+remembered how Audrey had stood and looked at him. She had the same
+clear gray eyes then.
+
+'How grand you look, Mike!' she exclaimed in an awestruck tone, for as a
+child she had always called him 'Mike.' 'I wish you would always wear
+that beautiful scarlet coat; and I think, if you did not mind, I should
+like you to kiss me just for once.'
+
+Michael remembered how he had felt as she made that innocent request,
+and how Dr. Ross had laughed; and then, when he kissed her cheek, she
+thanked him quite gravely, and slipped back to her father.
+
+'Why don't you ask for a kiss, too, Gage?' Dr. Ross observed in a joking
+way.
+
+But Geraldine had looked quite shocked at the idea.
+
+'No, thank you, father; I never kiss soldiers,' she replied
+discreetly--at which reply there had been a fresh laugh.
+
+'He may be a soldier, but Mike's Mike, and I wanted to kiss him,'
+returned Audrey stoutly. 'Why do you laugh, daddy?--little girls may
+kiss anybody.'
+
+Had he cared for her ever since then, he wondered; and then he pulled
+himself up with a sort of start.
+
+'Michael, why do you not answer me?'
+
+'Because I was thinking,' he returned quietly. 'Audrey, do you know you
+are just as much a child as you were a dozen years ago? Does it ever
+occur to you, my dear, that Blake might not always endorse your opinion?
+Stop,' as she was about to speak; 'we all know what a kind-hearted
+person our Lady Bountiful is, and how she never thinks of herself at
+all. But I have a sort of fellow-feeling with Blake, and I quite
+understand his view of the case--that two is company and three are
+none.'
+
+'But, Michael,' and here Audrey blushed again, most becomingly, 'indeed
+Cyril is not so ridiculous. I know what people generally think: that
+engaged couples like to be left to themselves--and I daresay it is
+pleasant sometimes--but I don't see why they are to be selfish. Cyril
+has plenty of opportunities for talking to me; but when he comes of an
+evening there is no need for you to turn hermit.'
+
+'It is a character I prefer. All old bachelors develop this sort of
+tendency to isolate themselves at times from their fellow-creatures. To
+be sure, I am naturally gregarious; but, then, I hate to spoil sport.
+"Do as you would be done by"--that is the Burnett motto. So, by your
+favour, I intend Blake to have his own way.'
+
+'Oh, how silly you must think us!' she returned impatiently. 'I wish you
+would not be so self-opinionative, Michael; for you are wrong--quite
+wrong. I should be far happier if you would make one of us, as you do on
+other evenings.'
+
+'And this is the _role_ you have selected for me,' replied Michael
+mournfully: 'to play gooseberry in my old age, and get myself hated for
+my pains. No, my dear child; listen to the words of wisdom: leave Mentor
+to enjoy a surreptitious nap in his arm-chair, and be content with your
+Blake audience.' And, in spite of all her coaxing and argument, she
+could not induce him to promise that he would mend his ways.
+
+'You are incorrigible!' she said, as she bade him good-night. 'After
+all, Cyril gives me my own way far more than you do.'
+
+But Michael seemed quite impervious to this reproach: the smile was
+still on his face as she left him; but as the door closed his elbow
+dropped heavily on the mantelpiece, and a sombre look came into the keen
+blue eyes.
+
+'Shall I have to give it up and go away?' he said to himself. 'Life is
+not worth living at this price. Oh, my darling! my innocent darling! why
+do you not leave me in peace? why do you tempt me with your sweet looks
+and words to be false to my own sense of honour? But I will not yield--I
+dare not, for all our sakes. If she will not let me take my own way, I
+must just throw it all up and go abroad. God bless her! I know she means
+what she says, and Mike is Mike still.' And then he groaned, and his
+head dropped on his arms, and the tide of desolation swept over him. He
+was still young--in the prime of life--and yet what good was his life to
+him?
+
+Audrey was a healthy-minded young person; she was not given to
+introspection. She never took herself to pieces, in a morbid way, to
+examine the inner workings of her own mind, after the manner of some
+folk, who regulate themselves in a bungling fashion, and wind
+themselves up afresh daily; and who would even time their own
+heart-beats if it were possible.
+
+Audrey was not one of these scrupulous self-critics. She would have
+considered it waste of time to be always weighing herself and her
+feelings in a nicely-adjusted balance. 'Know thyself,' said an old
+thinker; but Audrey Ross would have altered the saying: 'Look out of
+yourself; self-forgetfulness is better than any amount of
+self-knowledge.'
+
+Nevertheless, Audrey was a little thoughtful after this conversation
+with Michael, and during the next few weeks she was conscious of feeling
+vaguely dissatisfied with herself. Now and then she wondered if she were
+different from other girls, and if her absence of moods, and her
+constant serenity and gaiety, were not signs of a phlegmatic
+temperament.
+
+She was perfectly content with her own position. She had never imagined
+before how pleasant it would be to be engaged, and to have one human
+being entirely devoted to her. She was very much attached to her
+_fiance_. He never disappointed her; on the contrary, she discovered
+every day some new and admirable trait that excited her admiration, and
+as a lover he was simply perfect. He never made her uneasy by demanding
+more than she felt inclined to give; at the same time, it deepened her
+sense of security and restfulness to feel how completely he understood
+her.
+
+But now and then she would ask herself if her love for Cyril were all
+that it ought to be. She began to compare herself with others--with
+Geraldine, for example. She remembered the months of Geraldine's
+engagement, and how entirely she and Percival had been absorbed in each
+other. Geraldine had never seemed to have eyes or ears for anyone but
+her lover, and in his absence she had hardly seemed like herself at all.
+
+She had been obliged to pay a few weeks' visit to some friends in
+Scotland, and Audrey had accompanied her, and she remembered how, when
+their visit was half over, she had jestingly observed that she would
+never be engaged to anyone if she were compelled to lose her own
+identity. 'For you know you are not the same person, Gage,' she had
+said; 'instead of taking pleasure in our friends' society, you shut
+yourself up and write endless letters to Percival; and when we drive out
+or go in the boat, you never seem to see the beautiful scenery, and the
+mountains and the loch might be in the clouds; and when anyone asks you
+a question, you seem to answer it from a distance, and everyone knows
+that your thoughts are at Rutherford.' And though Geraldine had chosen
+to be offended at this plain speaking, she had not been able to defend
+herself. And then, had not Audrey once found her crying in her room, and
+for a long time she had refused to be comforted? Audrey had been much
+alarmed, for she thought something must be wrong at Woodcote; but it was
+only that Percival had a headache and seemed so dull without her. 'He
+says he really cannot bear the place without me, that he thinks he must
+go to Edith--and, and, I want to go home dreadfully,' finished Geraldine
+tearfully; 'I don't think engaged people ought to leave each other, and
+I know Percival thinks so too.'
+
+Audrey remembered this little episode when during the Christmas holidays
+Cyril was obliged to go up to town for ten days. She missed him
+excessively, and wrote him charming little letters every day; but,
+nevertheless, the time did not hang heavily on her hands. But she was
+glad when the day of his return arrived, and she went down to the Gray
+Cottage to welcome him. Mrs. Blake had suggested it as a little
+surprise, and Audrey had agreed at once. Cyril's delight at seeing her
+almost deprived him of good manners. He knew his _fiancee_ objected to
+any sort of demonstration before people; and he only just remembered
+this in time, as Audrey drew back with a heightened colour.
+
+But he made up for it afterwards when Mrs. Blake left them alone, and
+Audrey was almost overwhelmed by his vehement expressions of joy at
+finding himself with her again.
+
+'It has been the longest ten days I have ever spent in my life,' he
+observed; 'I was horribly bored, and as homesick as possible. I am
+afraid Norton found me very poor company. If it had not been for your
+letters, I could not have borne it. You shall never send me away again,
+dearest.'
+
+'But that is nonsense,' she returned, in her sensible way; 'you cannot
+stop at Rutherford all the year round, and it will not do for you to
+lose your friends. I shall have to pay visits myself; and I am afraid I
+shall not always ask your leave if any very tempting invitations come.'
+
+'You will not need to do so,' he answered quietly; 'do you think I
+should begrudge you any pleasure? I have no wish, even if I had the
+right, to curtail your freedom. I am not so selfish.'
+
+'You are never selfish,' she returned softly. 'Cyril dear, I suppose I
+ought to be pleased that you feel like this; but, do you know, I am just
+a little sorry.'
+
+'Sorry!' and indeed he could hardly believe his ears, for was he not
+paying her a pretty compliment?
+
+'Yes; it makes me rather uncomfortable. It seems to me as though I ought
+to feel the same, as though there were something wanting in me. I
+sometimes fancy I am different from other girls.'
+
+'Do not compare yourself with other people,' he returned quickly, for he
+could not bear her to look troubled for a moment. This mood was new to
+him, and he had never seen a shade on her bright face before. 'You have
+a calm temperament--that is your great charm--you are not subject to the
+cold and hot fits of ordinary mortals. It is my own fault that I cannot
+be happy without you; but I do not expect you to share my restlessness.'
+
+'Ah, that is right,' she replied, very much relieved by this. 'You are
+always so nice at understanding things, Cyril. Do you know, I was
+blaming myself for feeling so comfortable in your absence. But I was so
+busy--I had so many things to interest me; and, then, I had Michael.'
+
+The young man flushed slightly, but he had learnt to repress himself: he
+knew, far better than she did, that his love was infinitely greater than
+hers. But what of that? She was a woman made to be worshipped. It never
+troubled him when she talked of Michael--Cyril's nature was too noble
+for jealousy--but just for the moment her frankness jarred on him.
+
+'I think I was nearly as happy as usual,' she went on, determined to
+tell the truth; 'and yet, by your own account, you were perfectly
+miserable.'
+
+'But that was my own fault,' he returned lightly. 'Men are unreasonable
+creatures; they are not patient like women. It is true that I have no
+life apart from you now, and that I always want to be near you; but I do
+not expect you to feel the same.'
+
+Audrey looked at him thoughtfully; he gave her so much, and yet he
+seemed to demand so little.
+
+'You are very good to me, Cyril,' she said, in a low voice. 'I never
+thought you would understand me so thoroughly. You leave me so free, and
+you make me so happy. I wonder where you have learnt to be so wise.'
+
+'My love for you has taught me many things,' he answered. 'Do I really
+make you happy, sweetheart?'
+
+But the look in her eyes was sufficient answer. This was his reward--to
+see her perfect content and trust in him, and to bask in her sweet looks
+and smiles.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+TWO FAMILY EVENTS
+
+     'A solemn thing it is to me
+     To look upon a babe that sleeps,
+     Wearing in its spirit deeps
+     The undeveloped mystery
+     Of our Adam's taint and woe;
+     Which, when they developed be,
+     Will not let it slumber so.'
+
+                          MRS. BROWNING.
+
+
+One morning, as the Ross family were sitting at breakfast, Audrey
+noticed that Michael seemed very much absorbed by a letter he was
+reading. He laid it down presently, but made no remark, only he seemed a
+little grave and absent during the remainder of the meal.
+
+Just as they were rising from table, she heard him ask her father in
+rather a low tone if he would come into the study for a moment, as he
+wanted a few words with him; and as they went out together he mentioned
+the word dogcart--could he have it in time to catch the 11.15 train?
+
+Audrey felt a sudden quickening of curiosity. Michael's manner was so
+peculiar that she was sure something must have happened. She wondered
+what this sudden summons to town meant. It was a bitterly cold day, and
+a light fall of snow had whitened the ground. A three miles' drive in a
+dogcart was not a very agreeable proceeding, only Michael seemed so
+strangely callous to weather now. Surely her father would insist on his
+having a fly from the town? He was always so careful of Michael's
+comfort.
+
+Audrey could settle to nothing; it was impossible to practise or answer
+notes until she had had a word with Michael. So she took up the paper
+and pretended to read it, until the study door opened and she heard her
+cousin go up to his room. The next moment Dr. Ross walked in, looking
+as though he were very much pleased.
+
+'Mike's a droll fellow,' he said, addressing his wife, who was looking
+over the tradesmen's books. 'He has just told me, with a very long face,
+that his uncle, Mr. Carlisle, is dead, and that he has left him all his
+money; and he is as lugubrious over it as though he had been made
+bankrupt.'
+
+Audrey uttered an exclamation, but Mrs. Ross said, in her quiet way:
+
+'Perhaps he is grieved at the loss of his uncle, John. It would hardly
+be becoming to rejoice openly at the death of a relative, however rich
+he might be.'
+
+'I am afraid many men would if they were in Mike's shoes. Why, they say
+Mr. Carlisle was worth six or seven thousand a year--most of it solid
+capital, and locked up in safe securities and investments. He was always
+a canny Scotsman, and liked to take care of his money. And here is Mike
+pretending not to care a jot about it, and looking as though he had the
+cares of all the world on his shoulders.'
+
+'I think he shows very good feeling. Michael was never mercenary, and
+the loss of his only near relative would make him dull for a time.'
+
+'My dear Emmie, that is very pretty sentiment; but, unfortunately, it
+does not hold good in this case. Mike has never seen his uncle since he
+was a lad of eighteen--that is about seventeen years ago--and he has
+often owned to me that Mr. Carlisle was very close in his money
+dealings. "It is a pity there is no sympathy between us," he said once.
+"Uncle Andrew does not seem to have a thought beyond his money-grubbing.
+He is a decent sort of old fellow, I believe, and I daresay he will end
+by marrying some pretty girl or other, and then he will be properly
+miserable all the rest of his life." That does not sound much like an
+affectionate nephew.'
+
+'Oh, he never cared for him!' interposed Audrey; 'Michael and I have
+often talked about him. It seems so strange that he should leave him his
+money, when he took so little notice of him all these years.'
+
+'Well, he was not a demonstrative man,' returned her father; 'but in his
+way he seemed both fond and proud of Mike. I remember when he got the
+Victoria Cross, and was lying between life and death, poor lad! that Mr.
+Carlisle wrote very kindly and enclosed a cheque for two hundred pounds.
+I had to answer the letter for him, and I remember when he got better,
+and first came down here, that I recommended him to keep up a friendly
+intercourse with his uncle, though I do not believe he took my advice.
+Mike was always such a lazy beggar!'
+
+'And he has to go up to town to see his lawyer, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes, and he thinks he may be away a week or two; but, there, I must not
+stand here talking. I have told Reynolds to order a fly from the town;
+but he need not start for three-quarters of an hour.'
+
+Audrey waited impatiently for another twenty minutes before Michael made
+his appearance. He looked very cold, and at once proceeded to wheel an
+easy-chair in front of the fire.
+
+'I may as well get warm,' he observed. 'I expect we shall have a regular
+snowstorm before night. Look at that leaden sky! Well, what now?'
+
+For Audrey was kneeling on the rug, and she was looking at him with her
+brightest and most bewitching smile.
+
+'Michael, I am so glad, so very, very glad. I think I am as pleased as
+though the fortune were mine.'
+
+'Do you think that is a decent remark to make to a fellow who has just
+lost his uncle? Really, Audrey, you may well look ashamed of yourself; I
+quite blush for you. "Avarice, thy name is woman!"'
+
+'Now, Michael, don't be absurd. I am not a bit ashamed of myself. Of
+course, I am sorry the poor man is dead; but as I never saw him, I
+cannot be excessively grieved; but I am delighted that he has done the
+right thing and left you all his money, and I am sure in your heart that
+you are glad, too.'
+
+'It does not strike you that I may regard it in the light of an
+unmitigated bore. What does an old bachelor like myself want with this
+heap of money? I should like to know how I am to spend six or seven
+thousand a year--why, the very idea is oppressive!'
+
+'You are very good at pretence, Michael; as though I am not clever
+enough to see through that flimsy attempt at philosophy! You think it
+would be _infra dig._ to look too delighted.'
+
+'Oh, you think I am going in for a stoic?' he returned blandly.
+
+'Yes, but you are not really one; you were never cut out for a poor man,
+Michael; the _role_ did not suit you at all. It is a pain and a grief to
+you to travel second class, and it is only the best of everything that
+is good enough for you; and you like to put up at first-class hotels,
+and to have all the waiters and railway officials crowding round you.
+Even when we were in Scotland the gillie took you for some titled
+aristocrat, you were so lavish with your money. It is a way you have,
+Michael, to open your purse for everyone. No wonder the poor widow
+living down by the fir-plantation called you the noble English
+gentleman.'
+
+'Why, what nonsense you talk!' he replied.
+
+But all the same it pleased him to think that she had remembered these
+things. Oh, those happy days that would never come back!
+
+'And now you will be able to gratify all your tastes. You have always
+been so fond of old oak, and you can have a beautiful house, and furnish
+it just as you like; and you can buy pictures, and old china, and books.
+Why, you can have quite a famous library, and if you want our
+assistance, Gage and I will be proud to help you; and if you will only
+consult us, it will be the loveliest house you ever saw.'
+
+'What do I want with a house?' he returned a little morosely. 'I should
+think rooms would be far better for a bachelor.'
+
+'Ah, but you need not be a bachelor any longer,' she replied gaily. 'You
+have always told us that you could not afford to marry; but now you can
+have the house and wife too.' But here she stopped for a moment, for
+somehow the words sounded oddly as she said them. Michael's wife! What a
+curious idea! And would she be quite willing for Michael to marry? His
+wife must be very nice--nicer than most girls, she said to herself; and
+here she looked at him a little wistfully; but Michael did not make any
+response. He had the poker in his hand, and when she left off speaking
+he broke up a huge coal into a dozen glowing splinters.
+
+'And, then, do you remember,' she went on, 'how you used to long for a
+mail phaeton, and a pair of bay horses? "When my ship comes I will drive
+a pair!" How often you have said that to me! Will you drive me in the
+Park sometimes, Michael, until you have someone else whom you want to
+take?--for, of course, when you have a wife----'
+
+But here he interrupted her with marked impatience:
+
+'I shall never have a wife. I wish you would not talk such nonsense,
+Audrey;' and there was such bitterness in his tone that she looked quite
+frightened. But the next moment he spoke more gently. 'Do you not see,
+dear, that I am a little upset about all this money coming to me? It is
+a great responsibility, as well as a pleasure.'
+
+Then as she looked a little downcast at his rebuke, he put his hand
+lightly upon her brown hair and turned her face towards him.
+
+'Why, there are tears in your eyes, you foolish child!' he said quickly.
+'Did you really mind what I said, my dear Audrey?' in a more agitated
+tone--for, to his surprise, a large bright tear fell on his other hand.
+
+'Oh, it was not that!' she returned, in rather a choked voice. 'Please
+don't look so concerned, Michael. You know I never mind your scolding
+me.'
+
+'Then what is it?' he asked anxiously. 'What can have troubled you? Was
+it my want of sympathy with your little plans? The old oak, and the
+carvings and the books, and even the mail phaeton, may come by and by,
+when I have had time to realise my position as Croesus. Did my apathy
+vex you, Audrey?'
+
+'No; for of course I understood you, and I liked you all the better for
+not caring about things just now. It was only--you will think me very
+foolish, Michael'--and here she did look ashamed of herself--'but I
+felt, somehow, as though all this money would separate us. You will not
+go on living at Woodcote, and you will have a home of your own and other
+interests; and perhaps--don't be vexed--but if ever you do marry, I
+hope--I hope--your wife will be good to me.'
+
+'I think I can promise you that,' he returned quietly. 'Thank you, dear,
+for telling me the truth.'
+
+'Yes; but, Michael, are you not shocked at my selfishness?'
+
+'Not in the least. I understand you far better than you understand
+yourself;' and here he looked at her rather strangely as he rose.
+
+'Must you go now?'
+
+'Yes, it is quite time; I can hear wheels coming up the terrace.' And
+then he took her hands, and his old smile was on his face. 'Don't have
+any more mistaken fancies, Audrey; all the gold of the Indies would not
+separate us. If I furnish my house, I will promise you that Gage and you
+shall ransack Wardour Street with me; and when you are married, my dear,
+you shall choose what I shall give you;' and as he said this he stooped
+over her, for she was still kneeling before the fire, and kissed her
+very gently just above her eyes. It was done so quietly, almost
+solemnly, that she was not even startled. 'I don't suppose Blake would
+object to that from Cousin Michael,' he said gravely. 'Good-bye for a
+few days;' and then he was gone.
+
+'I am glad he did that,' thought Audrey; 'he has never done it before.
+As though Cyril would mind! I was so afraid I had really vexed him with
+all my foolish talking. But he looked so sad, so unlike himself, that I
+wanted to rouse him. I will not tease him any more about a possible
+wife; it seems to hurt him somehow--and yet why should he be different
+from other men? If he does not go on living here with father and mother,
+he will want some one to take care of him.' And here she fell into a
+brown study, and the work she had taken up lay in her lap. After all, it
+was she who was leaving him--when she was Cyril's wife, how could she
+look after Michael?
+
+Audrey could think of nothing else for the remainder of the day. She
+told Cyril about her cousin's good fortune when he took her out for a
+walk that afternoon. Neither of them minded the hard roads and gray
+wintry sky; when a few snowflakes pelted them they only walked on
+faster.
+
+Cyril showed a proper interest in the news.
+
+'I am delighted to hear it,' he said heartily. 'Captain Burnett is one
+of the best fellows I know, and he deserves all he has got.'
+
+And then, as it was growing dark, and they could hardly see each other's
+face, he coaxed her to go back with him to the Gray Cottage to tell
+Kester the wonderful news. Now, it so happened that Mrs. Blake and
+Mollie had gone to a neighbour's, and were not expected back for an
+hour; but Cyril begged her to stay and make tea for them: and a very
+cosy hour they spent, sitting round the fire and making all kinds of
+possible and impossible plans for their hero.
+
+But the next day Audrey's thoughts were diverted into a different
+channel, for Geraldine's boy was born, and great was the family
+rejoicing. Dr. Ross himself telegraphed to Michael. Audrey never liked
+her brother-in-law so well as on the morning when he came down to
+Woodcote to receive their congratulations.
+
+Mrs. Ross was at Hillside, and only Audrey and her father were sitting
+at breakfast. Mr. Harcourt looked pale and fagged, but there was
+marvellous content in his whole mien. The slight pomposity that had
+always jarred on Audrey had wholly vanished, and he wrung her hand with
+a warmth of feeling that did him credit.
+
+Once, indeed, she could hardly forbear a smile, when he said, with a
+touch of his old solemnity, 'Nurse says that he is the finest child that
+she has seen for a long time--and Mrs. Ross perfectly agrees with her;'
+but she commanded herself with difficulty.
+
+'I wonder if he is like you or Gage, Percival?'
+
+'It is impossible to say at present--one cannot get to see his eyes, and
+he is a little red. Mrs. Lockhart says they are all red at first. But he
+is astonishingly heavy--in fact, he is as fine a boy as you could see
+anywhere.'
+
+Audrey went on with her breakfast. It was so inexpressibly droll to see
+Percival in the character of the proud father, but Dr. Ross seemed
+perfectly to understand his son-in-law. Audrey's pleasure was a little
+damped when she found that she must not see Geraldine. She went about
+with her head in the air, calling herself an aggrieved aunt; and she
+pretended to be jealous of her mother, who had taken up her residence at
+Hillside during the first week.
+
+But when the day came for Audrey to be admitted to that quiet room, and
+she saw Geraldine looking lovelier than ever in her weakness, with a
+dark, downy head nestled against her arm, a great rush of tenderness
+filled her heart, and she felt as though she had never loved her sister
+so dearly.
+
+'Will you take him, Aunt Audrey?' and Geraldine smiled at her.
+
+'No, no! do not move him--let me see mother and son together for a
+moment. Oh, you two darlings, how comfortable you look!' but Audrey's
+tone was a trifle husky, and then she gave a little laugh: 'Actually,
+boy is a week old to-day, and this is the first time I have been allowed
+to see my nephew.'
+
+'It did seem hard,' returned Geraldine, taking her hand; 'but mother and
+nurse were such tyrants--and Percival was just as bad; we were not
+allowed to have a will of our own, were we, baby? It was such nonsense
+keeping my own sister from me, as I told them.'
+
+'Percival is very pleased with his boy, Gage;' and then a soft,
+satisfied look came into the young mother's eyes.
+
+'I think it is more to him than to most men,' she whispered. 'He is not
+young, and he did so long for a son. Do you know, mother tells me that
+he nearly cried when she put baby into his arms--at least, there were
+tears in his eyes, and he could scarcely speak when he saw me first.
+Father loves his little boy already,' she continued, addressing the
+unconscious infant, and after that Audrey did consent to take her
+nephew.
+
+'What do you mean to call him, Gage?'
+
+'Mother and I would have liked him to be called John, after father; but
+Percival wishes him so much to have his own father's name, Leonard; and
+of course he ought to have his way. You must be my boy's godmother,
+Audrey--I will have no one else; and Michael must be one
+godfather--Percival told me this morning that Mr. Bryce must be the
+other.'
+
+'I am glad you thought of Michael,' responded Audrey rather dreamily:
+baby had got one of her fingers grasped in his tiny fists, and was
+holding it tightly; and then nurse came forward and suggested that Mrs.
+Harcourt had talked enough: and, though Audrey grumbled a little, she
+was obliged to obey.
+
+Audrey took advantage of the first fine afternoon to walk over to Brail.
+It was more than three miles by the road, but she was a famous walker.
+The lanes were still impassable on account of the thaw; February had set
+in with unusual mildness: the snow had melted, the little lake at
+Woodcote was no longer a sheet of blue ice, and Eiderdown and Snowflake
+were dabbling joyously with their yellow bills in the water and their
+soft plumes tremulous with excitement.
+
+Audrey had set out early, and Cyril had promised to meet her half-way on
+her return; the days were lengthening, but he was sure the dusk would
+overtake her long before she got home.
+
+Audrey was inclined to dispute this point: she liked to be independent,
+and to regulate her own movements. But Cyril was not to be coerced.
+
+'I shall meet you, probably by the windmill,' he observed quietly. 'If
+you are not inclined for my companionship, I will promise to keep on the
+other side of the road.'
+
+And of course, after this remark, Audrey was obliged to give in; and in
+her heart she knew she should be glad of his company.
+
+She had not seen Mr. O'Brien for some weeks. During the winter her
+visits to Vineyard Cottage were always few and far between. Michael had
+driven her over a few days before Christmas, but she had not been there
+since. She had heard that Mrs. Baxter had been ailing for some weeks,
+and her conscience pricked her that she had not made an effort to see
+her. She would have plenty of news to tell them, she thought: there was
+Michael's fortune, and Gage's baby. Last time she had told them of her
+engagement, and had promised to bring Cyril with her one afternoon. She
+had tried to arrange this more than once, but Cyril had proposed that
+they should wait for the spring.
+
+Audrey enjoyed her walk, and it was still early in the afternoon when
+she unlatched the little gate and walked up the narrow path to the
+cottage. As she passed the window she could see the ruddy gleams of
+firelight, and the broad back of Mr. O'Brien as he sat in his great
+elbow-chair in front of the fire.
+
+Mrs. Baxter opened the door. She had a crimson handkerchief tied over
+her hair, and her face looked longer and paler than ever.
+
+'Why, it is never you, Miss Ross?' she cried in a subdued crescendo.
+'Whatever will father say when he knows it is you? There's a deal
+happened, Miss Ross, and I am in a shake still when I think of the turn
+he gave me only the other night. I heard the knock, and opened the door,
+as it might be to you, and when I saw who it was--at least----Why,
+father! father! what are you shoving me away for?' For Mr. O'Brien had
+come out of the parlour, and had taken his daughter rather
+unceremoniously by both shoulders, and had moved her out of his way.
+
+'You leave that to me, Priscilla,' he said in rather a peculiar voice;
+and here his great hand grasped Audrey's. 'You have done a good deed,
+Miss Ross, in coming here this afternoon, for I am glad and proud to see
+you;' and then, in a voice he tried in vain to steady: 'Susan was
+right--she always was, bless her!--and Mat has come home!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+'I COULD NOT STAND IT ANY LONGER, TOM'
+
+     'The beautiful souls of the world have an art of saintly alchemy,
+     by which bitterness is converted into kindness, the gall of human
+     experience into gentleness, ingratitude into benefits, insults into
+     pardon.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+'Mat has come home!'
+
+Audrey uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure as she heard this
+unexpected intelligence.
+
+'Is it really true? Oh, Mr. O'Brien, I am so glad--so very glad! When
+did he come? Why did you not send for me? My dear old friend, how happy
+you must be to get him back after all these years of watching and
+waiting!'
+
+A curiously sad expression crossed Mr. O'Brien's rugged face as Audrey
+spoke in her softest and most sympathetic voice.
+
+'Ay, I am not denying that it is happiness to get the lad back,' he
+returned, in a slow, ruminative fashion, as though he found it difficult
+to shape his thoughts into words; 'but it is a mixed sort of happiness,
+too. Come in and sit down, Miss Ross--Mat has gone out for a prowl, as
+he calls it--and I will tell you how it all happened while Prissy sees
+to the tea;' and as Mrs. Baxter withdrew at this very broad hint, Mr.
+O'Brien drew up one of the old-fashioned elbow-chairs to the fire, and
+then, seating himself, took up his pipe from the hob, and looked
+thoughtfully into the empty bowl. 'Things get terribly mixed in this
+world,' he continued, 'and pleasures mostly lose their flavour before
+one has a chance of enjoying them. I am thinking that the father of the
+Prodigal Son did not find it all such plain sailing after the feast was
+over, and he had time to look into things more closely. That elder
+brother would not be the pleasantest of companions for many a long day;
+he would still have a sort of grudge, like my Prissy here.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not!'
+
+'Oh, it is true, though. Human nature is human nature all the world
+over. But, there, I am teasing you with all this rigmarole; only I seem
+somehow confused, and as though I could not rightly arrange my thoughts.
+When did Mat come home? Well, it was three nights ago, and--would you
+believe it, Miss Ross?--it feels more like three weeks.'
+
+'I wish you had written to me. I would have come to you before.'
+
+'Ay, that was what Prissy said; she was always bidding me take ink and
+paper. "There's Miss Ross ought to be told, father"--she was always
+dinning it into my ears; but somehow I could not bring myself to write.
+"Where's the hurry," I said to Prissy, "when Mat is a fixture here? I
+would rather tell Miss Ross myself." And I have had my way, too'--with a
+touch of his old humour--'and here we are, talking comfortably as we
+have been used to do; and that is better than a stack of letters.'
+
+Audrey smiled. Whatever her private opinion might be, she certainly
+offered no contradiction. If she had been in his place, all her world
+should have heard of her prodigal's return, and should have been bidden
+to eat of the fatted calf; she would have called her friends and
+neighbours to rejoice with her over the lost one who had found his way
+home. Her friend's reticence secretly alarmed her. Would Vineyard
+Cottage be a happier place for its new inmate?
+
+'Yes, it is better for you and me to be talking over it quietly,' he
+went on; 'and I am glad Mat took that restless turn an hour ago. You
+see, the place is small, and he has been used to bush-life; and after he
+has sat a bit and smoked one or two pipes, he must just go out and dig
+in the garden, or take his mile or two just to stretch his muscles; but
+he will be back by the time Prissy has got the tea.'
+
+'And he came back three nights ago?' observed Audrey.
+
+'Ay. We were going upstairs, Prissy and I; the girl had been in bed for
+an hour. I was just smoking my last pipe over the kitchen fire, as I
+like to do, when we heard a knock at the door, and Prissy says to me:
+
+'"I expect that is Joshua Ruddock, father, and Jane has been taken bad,
+and they cannot get the nurse in time." For Prissy is a good soul at
+helping any of her neighbours, and sometimes one or other of them will
+send for her to sit up with a sick wife or child. And then she goes to
+the door, while I knock the ashes out of my pipe. But the next moment
+she gave a sort of screech, and I made up my mind that it was that
+rascal Joe asking for a night's lodging--not that he would ever have
+slept under my roof again. I confess I swore to myself a bit softly when
+I heard Prissy fly out like that.
+
+'"Father," she says again, "here is a vagrant sort of man, and he says
+he is Uncle Mat."
+
+'"And she won't believe me, Tom; so you had better come and look at me
+yourself;" and, sure enough, I knew the lad's voice before I got a sight
+of his face.
+
+'I give you my word, Miss Ross,' he continued, somewhat huskily, 'I
+hardly know how I got to the door, for my limbs seemed to have no power.
+
+'"Do you think I don't know your voice, lad?" I said; and, though it was
+dark, I got hold of him and pulled him into the light.
+
+'We were both of us white and shaking as we stood there, but he looked
+me in the face with a pitiful sort of smile.
+
+'"I could not stand it any longer, Tom," he said; "I suppose it was
+home-sickness; but it would have killed me in time. I have not got a
+creature in the world belonging to me. Will you and Susan take me in?"
+And then, with a laugh, though there were tears in his eyes: "I am
+precious tired of the husks, old chap."
+
+'Well, I did not seem to have my answer ready; for I was fairly choked
+at the sight of his changed face, and those poor, pitiable words. But he
+did not misunderstand me, and when I took his arm and pushed him into a
+chair by the fire, he looked round the place in a dazed kind of way.
+
+'"Where's Susan?" he asked. "I hope she is not sick, Tom." And with that
+he did break me down; for the thought of how Susan would have welcomed
+him--not standing aloof as Prissy was doing--and how she would have
+heartened us up, in her cheery way, was too much for me, and I fairly
+cried like a child.
+
+'Well, I knew it was my lad--in spite of his gray hairs--when he cried,
+too--just for company. Mat had always a kind heart and way with him.
+
+'"I never thought of this, Tom," he said, when we were a bit better.
+"All to-day Susan's face has been before me bonnie and smiling, as I
+last saw it. Prissy there is not much like her mother. And so she is in
+her coffin, poor lass! Well, you are better off than me, Tom, for you
+have got Prissy there to look after you, and I have neither wife nor
+children."
+
+'"Do you mean they are gone?" I asked, staring at him; and he nodded in
+a grim, sorrowful kind of way.
+
+'"I have lost them all. There, we won't talk about that just yet. What
+is it Susan used to say when the children died? 'The Lord gave, and the
+Lord hath taken away.' Those are pious words, Tom." And then he looked
+at me a bit strangely.
+
+'Well, it was Prissy who interrupted us, by asking if Mat wanted food.
+And then it turned out that he was 'most starving.
+
+'"I think I was born to ill-luck, Tom," he went on; "for some scamp or
+other robbed me of my little savings as soon as I reached London, and I
+had to make shift to pay my fare down here. It is a long story to tell
+how I found you out. I went to the old place first, and they sent me on
+here. I had a drop of beer and a crust at the Three Loaves, and old
+Giles, the ostler, knew me and told me a long yarn about you and
+Prissy."
+
+'And then we would not let him talk any more. And when he was fed and
+warmed Prissy made up a bed for him, for we saw he was nearly worn out,
+and there was plenty of time for hearing all he had to tell us.
+
+'But I could not help going into his room before I turned in, for there
+came over me such a longing to see Mat's face again--though it was not
+the old face. And I knew my bright, handsome lad would never come back.
+Well, he was not asleep, for he turned on his pillow when he saw me.
+
+'"If one could only have one's life again!" he said--and there was a
+catch in his voice. "I could not sleep for thinking of it. I have shamed
+you, Tom, and I have shamed all that belonged to me; and many and many a
+time I have longed to die and end it all, but something would not let
+me. I was always a precious coward. Why, I tried to shoot myself once;
+but I could not do it, I bungled so. That was when things were at the
+worst; but I never tried again, so don't look so scared, old chap!"
+
+'Well, it was terrible to hear him talk like that, of throwing his life
+away, and I said a word or two to show what I thought of it; but he
+would not listen.
+
+'"Don't preach, Tom: you were always such a hand at preaching; but I
+will tell you something you may care to hear. It was when I was out in
+the bush. I had been down with a sort of fever, and had got precious
+low. Well, it came over me one day as I was alone in the hut, that, if
+that sort of life went on, I should just lose my reason; for the
+loneliness, and the thought of the prison life, and all the evil I had
+done, and the way I had thrown aside my chances, seemed crowding in upon
+my mind, and I felt I must just blow my brains out, and I knew I should
+do it this time; and then all at once the thought came to me: 'Why not
+go to Tom? Tom and Susan are good sort; they won't refuse a helping hand
+to a poor wretch;' and the very next day I packed up my traps and
+started for Melbourne."
+
+'"My lad," I said, "it was just Providence that put that thought in your
+head;" and then I left him, for my heart was too full to talk, except to
+my Maker. But I dreamt that night that Susan came to me, and that we
+stood together by Mat's bedside looking down at him while he slept.
+
+'"He looks old and gray," I heard her say quite distinctly; "but he will
+grow young again beside my Tom." And then she looked at me so gently and
+sighed: "Be patient with him; he is very unhappy," and then I woke.'
+
+'Oh, I hope you told him that dream!'
+
+'Ay, I did. I told him a power of things about Susan and myself and
+Prissy, and he never seemed tired of listening; but after that first
+evening he did not open out much of his own accord. He told us a few
+things, mostly about his bush-life, and where he went when he got his
+ticket-of-leave; but somehow he seemed to dislike talking about himself,
+and after I had questioned him pretty closely, he suddenly said:
+
+'"Look here, old chap: I don't mean to be rough on you, but I have grown
+used to holding my tongue during the last few years. What is the use of
+raking up bygones? Do you suppose I am so proud of my past life that I
+care to talk about it? Why can we not start afresh? You know me for what
+I am, the good-for-nothing Mat O'Brien. I know I am no fit companion for
+you and Prissy; and if you tell me to go, I will shift my quarters
+without a reproachful word. Shall I go, Tom?"
+
+'"No," I said, almost shouting at him, and snapping my pipe in two; "you
+will just stay where you are, lad. Do you think I will ever suffer you
+to wander off again?" And then, as he looked at me very sadly, I opened
+the big Bible we had been reading in that morning, and showed him the
+verse that was in my thoughts that moment: "The Lord do so to me, and
+more also, if aught but death part me and thee."
+
+'"Do you mean that, Tom?" and his voice was rather choky.
+
+'"Ay, I do," was my answer. And then he gripped my hand without
+speaking, and went out of the room, and we did not see him for an hour
+or two. And that is about all I have to tell you, Miss Ross.'
+
+'Thank you, old friend,' returned Audrey gently.
+
+And she looked reverently into the thoughtful face beside her. The
+rugged, homely features were beautified to her. He was only a small
+tradesman, yet what nobleman could show more tender chivalry to the
+fallen man who had brought disgrace on his honest name? In her heart
+Audrey knew there was no truer gentleman than this simple, kindly Tom
+O'Brien.
+
+'There's Mat,' he observed presently; and Audrey roused herself and
+looked anxiously at the door.
+
+She was longing, yet dreading, to see this much-loved prodigal.
+Priscilla's description of 'a vagrant sort of man' had somewhat alarmed
+her, and she feared to see the furtive look and slouching gait that so
+often stamp the man who has taken long strides on the downward path.
+
+She was greatly surprised, therefore, when a tall, fine-looking man,
+with closely-cropped gray hair and a black moustache, came quickly into
+the room. On seeing a young lady he was about to withdraw; but his
+brother stopped him.
+
+'Don't go away, lad. This is Miss Ross, the young lady who I told you
+was with Susan when she died.'
+
+'And I am very glad to welcome you back, Mr. O'Brien,' observed Audrey
+cordially, as she held out her hand.
+
+Mat O'Brien reddened slightly as he took the offered hand with some
+reluctance, and then stood aside rather awkwardly. He only muttered
+something in reply to his brother's question of how far he had walked.
+
+'I think I will go to Priscilla,' he said, with a touch of sullenness
+that was mere shyness and discomfort. 'Don't let me interrupt you and
+this young lady, Tom.' And before Mr. O'Brien could utter a
+remonstrance, he was gone.
+
+'I am afraid I am in the way,' suggested Audrey. 'Perhaps your brother
+does not like to see people. It is growing dark, so I may as well start
+at once. Mr. Blake has promised to meet me, so I shall not have a
+solitary walk.'
+
+'Nay, you must not go without your cup of tea,' returned the old man,
+rubbing up his hair in a vexed manner; 'I hear Prissy clattering with
+the cups. Don't fash your head about the lad; he is a bit shamed of
+looking honest folk in the face; but we'll get him over that. Sit you
+down, and I will fetch him out of the kitchen.' And without heeding her
+entreaties to be allowed to go, Mr. O'Brien hurried her into the next
+room, where the usual bountiful meal was already spread, and where Mrs.
+Baxter awaited them with an injured expression of face.
+
+'I think father has gone clean daft over Uncle Mat,' she observed, as
+Mr. O'Brien departed on his quest. 'Draw up to the table, Miss Ross.
+Father will be back directly; but he won't touch a mouthful until he
+sees Uncle Mat in his usual place; he fashes after him from morning to
+night, and can hardly bear him out of his sight. It is "Mat, come here,
+alongside of me," or "Try this dish of Prissy's, my lad," until you
+would think there was not another person in the house. It is a bit
+trying, Miss Ross, I must confess; though I won't fly in the face of
+Providence, and say I am not glad that the sinner has come home. But
+there, one must have one's trials; and Heaven knows I have had a
+plentiful share of thorns and briars in my time!'
+
+'I am sorry to hear you speak like this, Mrs. Baxter. I was hoping that
+you would rejoice in Mr. O'Brien's happiness. Think how he has longed
+for years to see his brother's face again!'
+
+Mrs. Baxter shook her head mournfully.
+
+'Ay, Miss Ross; but the best of us are poor ignorant creatures, and,
+maybe, the blessings we long for will turn to a curse in the end. I
+doubt whether our little cottage will be the restful place it was before
+Uncle Mat came home. He has gone to a bad school to learn manners; and
+wild oats and tares and the husks that the swine did eat are poor crops,
+after all, Miss Ross,' finished Priscilla a little vaguely.
+
+Audrey bent over her plate to conceal a smile; but she was spared the
+necessity of answering, as just then the two men entered.
+
+It was the first meal that Audrey had failed to enjoy at Vineyard
+Cottage; and notwithstanding all her efforts to second Mr. O'Brien's
+attempt at cheerfulness, she felt that she failed most signally. Neither
+of them could induce Mat O'Brien to enter into conversation; his gloomy
+silence or brief monosyllabic replies compelled even his brother at last
+to desist from any such attempt.
+
+Now and then Audrey stole a furtive glance at him as he sat moodily
+looking out into the twilight. The handsome lad was still a
+good-looking man; but the deep-seated melancholy in the dark eyes
+oppressed Audrey almost painfully: there was a hopelessness in their
+expression that filled her with pity.
+
+Why had he let that one failure, that sad lapse from honesty, stamp his
+old life with shame? Had he not expiated his sin? Why was he so beaten
+down and crushed with remorse and suffering that he had only longed to
+end an existence that seemed God-forsaken and utterly useless? And then,
+half unconsciously, she noted the one serious defect in his face--the
+weak, receding chin; and she guessed that the mouth hidden under the
+heavy moustache was weak too.
+
+'I will not ask you what you think of Mat to-night,' observed Mr.
+O'Brien, as he accompanied Audrey to the gate; 'he has not been used to
+a lady's company, and he has grown into silent ways, living so much
+alone.'
+
+'He looks terribly unhappy.'
+
+'Ay, poor chap, he is unhappy enough; he has got a load on his heart
+that he is carrying alone. Sometimes it makes my heart ache, Miss Ross,
+to see him sitting there, staring into the fire, and fetching up a sigh
+now and then. But there, as Susan says, "The heart knoweth its own
+bitterness"; but if ever a man is in trouble, Mat is that man.'
+
+And Audrey felt that her old friend was right.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+'WILL YOU CALL THE GUARD?'
+
+     'Plead guilty at man's bar, and go to judgment straight;
+     At God's no other way remains to shun that fate.'
+
+                                          ARCHBISHOP TRENCH.
+
+
+Captain Burnett had settled his business, and was returning again to
+Rutherford after more than a month's absence. He would willingly have
+lingered in town longer. Lonely as his bachelor quarters were, he felt
+he was safer in them than in his cosy rooms under his cousin's roof,
+where every hour of the day exposed him to some new trial, and where the
+part he played was daily becoming more difficult. In town he could at
+least be free; he had no need to mask his wretchedness, or to pretend
+that he was happy and at ease. No demands, trying to meet, were made on
+his sympathy; no innocently loving looks claimed a response. At least,
+the bare walls could tell no tales, if he sat for long hours brooding
+over a future that looked grim and desolate.
+
+And he was a rich man. Heavens! what mockery! And yet how his friends
+would have crowded round him if they had known it! Comfort--nay, even
+luxury--was within his power; he could travel, build, add acre to acre;
+he could indulge in philanthropic schemes, ride any hobby. And yet,
+though he knew this, the thought of his gold seemed bitter as the apples
+of Sodom.
+
+It had come too late. Ah, that was the sting--his poverty had been the
+gulf between him and happiness, and he had not dared to stretch his hand
+across it to the woman he loved; and now, when his opportunity had gone
+and he had lost her irrevocably, Fate had showered these golden gifts
+upon him, as though to bribe him as one bribes children with some gilded
+toy.
+
+Was it a wonder that, as he sat trying to shape that dreary future of
+his, his heart was sore within him, and that now and again the thought
+crossed him that it might have been well for him if his battered body
+could have been laid to rest with those other brave fellows in Zululand?
+And then he remembered how Kester had once told him that he must be the
+happiest man in the world. He had never quite forgotten that boyish
+outburst.
+
+'Don't you see the difference?' he could hear him say. 'I have got this
+pain to bear, and no good comes of it; it is just bearing, and nothing
+else. But you have suffered in saving other men's lives; it is a kind of
+ransom. It must be happiness to have a memory like that!'
+
+Was he suffering for nothing now? Would any good to himself or others
+come from a pain so exquisite, so rife with torture--a pain so strongly
+impregnated with fear and doubt that he scarcely dared own it to
+himself? Only now and again those few bitter words would escape his
+lips:
+
+'Oh, my darling, what a mistake! Will you ever find it out before it is
+too late?' And then, with a groan, he would answer, as though to
+himself: 'Never! never!'
+
+Old habits are strong, and it was certainly absence of mind that made
+Captain Burnett take his usual third-class ticket; and he had seated
+himself and dismissed his porter before he bethought himself that the
+first-class compartment was now within his means.
+
+Audrey had told him laughingly that such creature comforts were dear to
+him--that he was a man who loved the best of things, to whom the loaves
+and fishes of bare maintenance were not enough without adding to them
+the fine linen and dainty appendages of luxury; and he had not
+contradicted her. But, all the same, he knew that he would have been
+willing to live in poverty until his life's end if he could only have
+kept her beside him.
+
+Happily, the third-class compartment was empty, and he threw himself
+back in the farthest corner, and, taking out his Baedeker, began to plan
+what he called his summer's campaign--a tour he was projecting through
+Holland and Belgium, and which was to land him finally in the Austrian
+Tyrol. He would work his way later to Rome and Florence and Venice, and
+he would keep Norway for the following year; and he would travel about
+in the desultory, dilettante sort of fashion that suited him best now.
+He would probably go to America, and see Niagara and all the wonders of
+the New World, that was so young and fresh in its immensity. Indeed, he
+would go anywhere and everywhere, until his trouble became a thing of
+the past, and he had strength to live and work for the good of his
+fellow-creatures; but he felt that such work was not possible to him
+just yet.
+
+Michael studied his Baedeker in a steady business-like way. He had made
+up his mind that to brood over an irreparable misfortune was unworthy of
+any man who acknowledged himself a Christian--that any such indulgence
+would weaken his moral character and make him unfit for his duties in
+life. The sorrow was there, but there was no need to be ever staring it
+in the face; as far as was possible, he would put it from him, and do
+the best for himself and others.
+
+Michael's stubborn tenacity of purpose brought its own reward, for he
+was soon so absorbed in mapping out his route that he was quite startled
+at hearing the porters shouting 'Warnborough!' and the next moment the
+door was flung open, and a shabbily-dressed man, with the gait and
+bearing of a soldier, entered the compartment, and, taking the opposite
+corner to Michael, unfolded his paper and began to read.
+
+Michael glanced at him carelessly. He was rather a good-looking man, he
+thought, with his closely-cropped gray hair and black moustache; but his
+scrutiny proceeded no further, for just then he caught sight of a
+familiar face and figure on the platform that made him shrink back into
+his corner, and wish that he, too, had a newspaper, behind which he
+could hide himself.
+
+There was no mistaking that slim, graceful figure and the little, close
+black bonnet. There was something about Mrs. Blake which he would have
+recognised a quarter of a mile off. By Jove! she was coming towards his
+compartment. Her hands were full of parcels, and she was asking a
+gray-headed old gentleman to open the door for her--how handsome and
+bright and alert she looked, as she smiled her acknowledgment! The old
+gentleman looked back once or twice--even old fogeys have eyes for a
+pretty woman--but Mrs. Blake was too busy arranging her parcels in the
+rack to notice the impression she had made.
+
+If only he had had that newspaper he might have pretended that he was
+asleep; but when the parcels were in their place she would see him.
+There was nothing for him but to take the initiative.
+
+'Let me put that up for you, Mrs. Blake;' and at the sound of his voice
+she turned round.
+
+In a moment he knew that she was not pleased to see him--that if she had
+discovered that he was there, nothing would have induced her to enter
+the compartment. It was his extraordinary quickness of intuition that
+made him know this, and the sudden shade that crossed her face when he
+addressed her. Underneath Mrs. Blake's smooth speeches and charm of
+manner he had always been conscious of some indefinable antagonism to
+himself; as he had once told Geraldine, there was no love lost between
+them. 'In a ladylike way, she certainly hates me,' he had said.
+
+'Dear me, Captain Burnett, how you startled me! I thought there were
+only strangers in the carriage. Thank you; that parcel is rather heavy.
+I have been shopping in Warnborough and am terribly laden; I hope Cyril
+will meet me--if the omnibus be not at the station, I must certainly
+take a fly. I had no idea you were coming back until to-morrow. Kester
+certainly said to-morrow. How delighted he will be, dear boy, when I
+tell him I have seen you!'
+
+'The christening will be to-morrow, you know, and I have to stand
+sponsor to my small cousin.'
+
+'Ah, to be sure! How stupid of me to forget! and yet Mollie told me all
+about it. It is very soon--baby is only a month old, is he not? But I
+hear Mrs. Harcourt is not to be allowed to go to the church.'
+
+'No; so Audrey tells me.'
+
+'I think that a pity. When my children were christened I was always with
+them. To be sure, both Kester and Mollie were two months old at least.
+What is your opinion, Captain Burnett--you are a strict Churchman, I
+know--ought not the mother to be there as a matter of course?'
+
+Mrs. Blake spoke in a soft voice, with her usual engaging air of
+frankness, but Michael's answer was decidedly stiff. Of all things he
+hated to be entrapped into a theological argument, but he would not
+compromise truth.
+
+'I think there is one thing even more desirable than the mother's
+presence,' he returned quickly, 'and that is that these little heathens
+be made Christians as soon as possible; and I think Harcourt is
+perfectly right to have his son baptized without exposing his wife to
+any risk.'
+
+'And she is still so delicate, as dear Audrey tells me. She was up at
+Hillside last evening, and Cyril fetched her. My boy is a most devoted
+lover, Captain Burnett.'
+
+'Cela va sans dire,' returned Michael lightly--he may be forgiven for
+regarding this speech in the worst possible taste--and then he stopped,
+attracted by a singular action on the part of their fellow-passenger.
+
+He had put down his paper, and was leaning forward a little in his seat,
+and staring intently into Mrs. Blake's face.
+
+'Good God, it is Olive!' he muttered. 'As I live, it is Olive herself!'
+and then he threw out both his hands in a strange, appealing sort of
+way, and his face was very pale. 'Olive,' he went on, and there was
+something strained and pitiful in his voice, as though pleading with
+her; 'how am I to sit and hear you talk about the little chaps and take
+no notice? How am I to mind my promise and not speak to my own wife?'
+
+Michael gave a violent start, but he had no time to speak, for Mrs.
+Blake suddenly clutched his arm with a stifled scream; she looked so
+ghastly, so beside herself with terror, that he could not help pitying
+her.
+
+'Captain Burnett,' she gasped, 'will you stop the train? I will not
+travel any longer with this madman. I shall die if I am in this carriage
+a moment longer. Don't you see he is mad? Will you call the guard?
+I--I----' She sank down, unable to articulate another syllable.
+
+Captain Burnett hardly knew how to act. They would reach the station for
+Rutherford in another quarter of an hour. He knew the man opposite him
+was no more mad than he was--there was no insanity in those deep-set,
+melancholy eyes, only intense pain and sadness. The very sound of his
+voice brought instant conviction to Michael's mind that he was speaking
+the truth. Whatever mystery lay beneath his words, he and Mrs. Blake
+were not strangers to each other--her very terror told him that.
+
+'Mrs. Blake,' he said, endeavouring to soothe her, 'there is nothing to
+fear. Do try to be reasonable. No one could molest you while you are
+under my protection. Perhaps this gentleman,' with a quick glance at the
+man's agitated face and shabby coat, 'may have made some mistake. You
+may resemble some friend of his.'
+
+'No fear of that,' interposed the man sullenly, and now there was an
+angry gleam in his eyes that alarmed Michael; 'a man can't mistake his
+own wife, even if he has not seen her for fifteen or sixteen years. I
+will take my oath before any court of justice that that is my lawful
+wedded wife, Olive O'Brien.'
+
+Mrs. Blake uttered another faint scream, and covered her face with her
+hands. She was shaking as though in an ague fit.
+
+'I assure you, you must have made some mistake,' replied Michael
+civilly; 'this lady's name is Blake: she and her family are well known
+to me. If you like, I will give you my card, if you should wish to
+satisfy yourself by making further inquiries; but, as you must see, it
+is only a case of mistaken identity.'
+
+If Michael spoke with the intent of eliciting further facts, he was not
+wholly unsuccessful.
+
+'It is nothing of the kind,' returned the man roughly; 'don't I tell you
+it is no mistake. I can't help what she calls herself. If she has taken
+another husband, I'll have the law of her and bring her to shame; she
+has only one husband and his name is Matthew O'Brien.'
+
+'Good heavens! do you mean that Thomas O'Brien, of Vineyard Cottage, is
+your brother?' And as Michael put this question he felt the plot was
+thickening.
+
+'Yes. Tom, poor old chap! is my brother; but he knows nought about Olive
+and the young ones. He thinks they are dead. I told him I had lost them
+all. Has she not been talking about them--Cyril and Kester and my little
+Mollie!' And here there were tears in Matthew O'Brien's eyes.
+
+'Hush!' interposed Michael; 'don't say any more. Don't you see she has
+fainted? Will you move away a moment, that she may not see you? Open the
+window; make a thorough draught.'
+
+Michael was doing all that he could for Mrs. Blake's comfort. He
+loosened her bonnet-strings and made his rug into a pillow, and, taking
+out his brandy flask, moistened her white lips. However she had sinned,
+he felt vaguely, as he knelt beside her, that hers would be a terrible
+expiation. Mat O'Brien stood a little behind, talking half to himself
+and half to Michael.
+
+'Ah, he is a handy chap,' he soliloquised; 'he must have a wife of his
+own, I'm thinking. Poor lass! she does look mortal bad. I have frighted
+her pretty nearly to death, but it is her own fault. I never would have
+hurt a hair of her head. She is as handsome as ever, and as
+hard-hearted, too. I used to tell her she was made of stone--not a bit
+of love, except for the children. She is coming to, sir,' he continued
+excitedly; 'I was half afraid she was dead, lying so still.'
+
+'Yes, she is recovering consciousness,' replied Michael quietly; 'but
+it is rather a serious fainting fit, and I must ask you to leave her to
+me, Mr. O'Brien. There is my card. I shall be at Rutherford, and will
+try to see you to-morrow--no, not to-morrow, there is the
+christening--but the next day. I will come over to Vineyard Cottage;
+there, we are stopping. Please send a porter to me.' And then Michael
+turned again to his patient.
+
+She had opened her eyes and was looking at him as though she were dazed.
+'Where am I? what has happened? why are you giving me brandy, Captain
+Burnett?'
+
+'You have been ill,' he returned coolly; 'are you subject to these
+fainting fits? I want you to try and stand, and then I will help you to
+my fly. Porter, will you take those parcels, please. Now, Mrs. Blake, do
+you think you can walk?'
+
+'I will try,' she replied in an exhausted voice, but just at that moment
+Mat O'Brien passed. 'Oh, I remember,' she gasped; 'the madman! It was he
+who frightened me so, Captain Burnett,' looking at him with a return of
+the old terror in her face and a sort of wildness in her eyes. 'You did
+not believe that improbable story? How can I, a widow, have a living
+husband?' And she laughed hysterically.
+
+'Will you permit me to assist you?' was Michael's sole answer, as he
+lifted her from the seat; 'can you fasten your bonnet? I was obliged to
+give you air.' But as her trembling hands could not perform the office,
+he was compelled to do it himself. 'Now you can come,' he went on in a
+quiet, authoritative voice, that was not without its effect on her, and
+half leading, half supporting her, he placed her at last safely in the
+fly. But as he seated himself beside her, and they drove off, in the
+gathering dusk of the March evening, he felt a cold hand grip his wrist.
+
+'Oh, Captain Burnett, do say that you did not believe him!'
+
+Michael was silent.
+
+'It was too utterly horrible, too improbable altogether!' she continued
+with a shudder; 'no man calling himself a gentleman ought to believe
+such an accusation against a woman.'
+
+Still silence.
+
+'If it should reach my boy's ear, he will be ready to kill him.'
+
+'Mrs. Blake, will you listen to me a moment, for your children's sake. I
+desire to stand your friend.'
+
+'And not for my sake--not for the sake of a lonely, misjudged woman?'
+
+'No,' he returned coldly; 'I will confess the truth: it is the best. In
+our hearts we are not friends, you and I. From the first I have
+mistrusted you. I have always felt there was something I could not
+understand. Friends do not have these feelings; but, all the same, I
+wish to help you.'
+
+'Oh, that is kind; and now I do not mind your hard words.'
+
+'But I must help you in my own way. To-morrow I shall come to you, and
+you must tell me the whole truth, and whether this man Matthew O'Brien
+be your husband or not.'
+
+'I tell you--' she began excitedly, but he checked her very gently.
+
+'Hush! Do not speak now; you will make yourself ill again.'
+
+'Oh yes,' she said, falling back on her seat. 'I have palpitations
+still. I must not excite myself.'
+
+'Just so; and to-morrow you will be calmer and more collected, and you
+will have made up your mind that the truth will be best because----' he
+paused, as though not certain how to proceed.
+
+'Because of what?' she asked sharply; and he could detect strained
+anxiety in her tone.
+
+'Because it will be better for you to tell your story in your own way,
+far better than for me to hear it from Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'You would go to him?' and there was unmistakable alarm in her voice.
+
+'Most certainly I would go to him. This is a very important matter to
+others as well as yourself, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+'I will kill myself,' she said wildly, 'before I tell any such story!
+You have no heart, Captain Burnett; you are treating me with refined
+cruelty; you want to bring me to shame because you hate me, and
+because----'
+
+But again he checked her:
+
+'Do not exhaust yourself with making all these speeches; you will need
+all your strength. I will come to you to-morrow evening, and if you will
+tell me the truth I will promise to help you as far as possible. Surely
+at such a crisis you will not refuse such help as I may be able to offer
+you, if only----' he paused, and there was deep feeling in his voice,
+'for your children's sake.'
+
+But though he could hear her sob as though in extremity of anguish, she
+made him no answer, nor could he induce her to speak again until they
+reached the Gray Cottage, where the fly stopped, and he got out and
+assisted her to alight. She kept her face averted from him.
+
+'I will be with you to-morrow,' he repeated, as he touched her hand.
+
+But to this there was no audible reply; she only bowed her head as she
+passed through the gate he held open for her, and disappeared from his
+sight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+'I DID NOT LOVE HIM'
+
+     'When a man begins to do wrong, he cannot answer for himself how
+     far he may be carried on. He does not see beforehand; he cannot
+     know where he will find himself after the sin is committed. One
+     false step forces him to another.'--NEWMAN.
+
+     'An Italian proverb, too well known, declares that if you would
+     succeed you must not be too good.'--EMERSON.
+
+
+Audrey found Michael strangely uncommunicative that evening; he hardly
+responded to her expressions of pleasure at seeing him again, and all
+her questions were answered as briefly as possible. His manner was as
+kind as ever; indeed, he spoke to her with more than his usual
+gentleness; but during dinner he seemed to find conversation difficult,
+and all her little jokes fell flat. She wanted to know how many pretty
+things he had bought, and if he had put down his name for the proof
+engraving of a certain picture he had longed to possess.
+
+'Twenty guineas is nothing to you now, Michael,' she observed playfully.
+
+'No, I forgot all about the picture,' he returned, starting up from his
+chair; 'but I have brought you a present.'
+
+And the next moment he put in her hand a little case. When Audrey opened
+it, there was a small cross studded with diamonds of great beauty and
+lustre, and the whole effect was so sparkling and dainty that Audrey
+quite flushed with surprise and pleasure.
+
+'Oh, mother, look how beautiful! But, Michael, how dare you waste your
+money on me; this must have cost a fortune!' And then she added a little
+thoughtfully, 'I am afraid Cyril will be sorry when he sees this; he is
+always lamenting that he cannot give me things.'
+
+'I chose a bracelet for Geraldine,' he returned carelessly, as though
+buying diamonds were an everyday business with him. 'Would you like to
+see it?' and he showed her the contents of the other case. 'I have a
+small offering for my godson in the shape of the inevitable mug, and I
+mean to give this to Leonard's mamma.'
+
+'It is very handsome; mother thinks so: don't you, mother? and Gage is
+devoted to bracelets; but I like mine ever so much better; it is the
+very perfection of a cross, and I shall value it, ah, so dearly,
+Michael!' and Audrey held out her hand as she spoke.
+
+Michael pressed it silently. It was little wonder, he thought, that
+Audrey liked her gift better than Geraldine's; it had cost at least
+three times as much; in fact, its value had been so great that he had
+written the cheque with some slight feeling of shame and compunction.
+'There is no harm, after all, and she is so fond of diamonds,' he
+assured himself, as he put the little case in his pocket; 'she will not
+know what it cost me, and he will never be able to buy ornaments for
+her--I may as well give myself this pleasure;' and just for the moment
+it did please him to see her delight over the ornament.
+
+'It is not so much the diamonds that please me, as Michael's kindness
+and generosity,' she said to Cyril the next day. 'He has bought nothing
+for himself, and yet he has been in town a whole month; he only thought
+of us.'
+
+And Cyril observed quietly, as he closed the case, that it was certainly
+very kind of Captain Burnett; but a close observer would have said that
+Michael's generosity had not quite pleased him.
+
+'I suppose you will wear this to-night at the Charringtons'?' he asked
+presently.
+
+'Yes; and those lovely flowers you have brought me,' she added, with one
+of her charming smiles; and somehow the cloud passed in a moment from
+the young man's brow.
+
+What did it matter, after all, that he could not give her diamonds? Had
+he not given himself to her, and did they not belong to each other for
+time and for eternity? And as he thought this he took her in his arms
+with a loving speech.
+
+'You are sweet as the very sweetest of my flowers,' he said, holding her
+close to him. 'You are the very dearest thing in the world to me,
+Audrey; and sometimes, when I think of the future, I am almost beside
+myself with happiness.'
+
+When the little excitement of the diamonds was over, Michael relapsed
+again into gravity, and he was still grave when he went up to Hillside
+the next day. A wakeful night's reflection had brought him no comfort;
+he felt as though a gulf were opening before him and those whom he
+loved, and that he dared not, for very dread and giddiness, look into
+it.
+
+When they returned from church, and were about to sit down to the
+sumptuous luncheon, he took Geraldine aside and presented his offerings.
+To his surprise, she was quite overcome, and would have called her
+husband to share her pleasure; but he begged her to say nothing just
+then.
+
+'Audrey has a present, too, but she took it far more calmly,' he said,
+in a rallying tone. But as he spoke he wondered at his cousin's beauty.
+Her complexion had always been very transparent, but now excitement had
+added a soft bloom. Was it motherhood, he asked himself, that deepened
+the expression of her eyes and lent her that new gentleness? 'I never
+saw you look better, Gage,' he said, in quite an admiring voice; but
+Geraldine was as unconscious as ever.
+
+'I am very well,' she returned, smiling, 'only not quite as strong as
+usual. It is such a pity that Percival would not allow me to invite you
+to dinner, because he says that I ought to be quiet this evening. He and
+mother make such a fuss over me. Percival means to take baby and me for
+a change during the Easter holidays. That will be nice, will it not? I
+think we shall go to Bournemouth.'
+
+'Very nice,' he returned absently.
+
+'I wish Audrey would go too, but I am afraid she will not leave Cyril;
+he is not going away this vacation. That is the worst of a sister being
+engaged, she is not half so useful.'
+
+'I think Audrey would go with you if you asked her; she is very
+unselfish.'
+
+'Yes; but she has to think about someone else now, and I do not wish to
+be hard on Cyril. He is very nice, and we all like him.'
+
+'I am very glad to hear that, Gage.'
+
+'Yes; we must just make the best of it. Of course, Percival and I will
+always consider she is throwing herself away; but that cannot be helped
+now. By the bye, Michael, this is the first time I have seen you since
+you came into your fortune. I have never been able to tell you how
+delighted we both were to hear of it.'
+
+'Well, it was a pretty good haul.'
+
+'Yes; but no one will do more with it. But you must not buy any more
+diamonds;' and then she smiled on him. And just then Master Leonard made
+his appearance in his long lace robe, and, as Geraldine moved to take
+her boy in her arms, there was no further conversation between them.
+
+They left soon after luncheon. Mr. Bryce had to take an early afternoon
+train, and Dr. Ross accompanied him to the station. Audrey drove home
+with her mother; they expected Michael to follow them, but he had other
+business on hand. There was his interview with Mrs. Blake, and on
+leaving Hillside he went straight to the Gray Cottage.
+
+Mollie met him at the door. She looked disturbed and anxious.
+
+'Yes; you are to go up to the drawing-room, Captain Burnett,' she said,
+when he asked if Mrs. Blake were at home. 'Mamma is there. I heard her
+tell Biddy so. Do you know'--puckering up her face as though she were
+ready to cry--'mamma will not speak to any of us--not even to Cyril! She
+says she is ill, and that only Biddy understands her. It is so odd that
+she is able to see a visitor.'
+
+'What makes you think she is ill, Mollie?'
+
+'Oh, because she looked so dreadful when she came home last night; she
+could hardly walk upstairs, and Cyril was not there to help her. He was
+quite frightened when I told him, and went to her room at once; but her
+door was locked, and she said her head ached so that she could not talk.
+Biddy was with her then; we could hear her voice distinctly, and mamma
+seemed moaning so.'
+
+'Has she seen your brother this morning?'
+
+'Yes, just for a minute; but the room was darkened, and he could not see
+her properly. She told him that the pain had got on the nerves, and that
+she really could not bear us near her. But she would not let him send
+for a doctor, and Biddy seemed to agree with her.'
+
+'Perhaps she will be better to-morrow,' he suggested; and then he left
+Mollie and went upstairs. 'Poor little girl!' he said to himself; 'I
+wonder what she would say if she knew her father were living!'
+
+And then he tapped at the drawing-room door. He was not quite sure
+whether anyone bade him enter. Mrs. Blake was sitting in a chair drawn
+close to the fire; her back was towards him. She did not move or turn
+her head as he walked towards her, and when he put out his hand to her
+she took no notice of it.
+
+'You have come,' she said, in a quick, hard voice. And then she turned
+away from him and looked into the fire.
+
+'Yes, I have come,' he replied quietly, as he sat down on the oak settle
+that was drawn up near her chair. 'I am sorry to see you look so ill,
+Mrs. Blake.'
+
+He might well say so. She had aged ten years since the previous night.
+Her face was quite drawn and haggard--he had never before noticed that
+there were threads of gray in her dark hair--she had always looked so
+marvellously young; but now he could see the lines and the crows'-feet;
+and as his sharp eyes detected all this he felt very sorry for her.
+
+'Ill; of course I'm ill,' she answered irritably. 'All night long I have
+been wishing I were dead. I said yesterday that I would rather kill
+myself than tell you my story; but to-day I have thought better of it.'
+
+'I am glad of that.'
+
+'Of course I am not a fool, and I know I am in your power--yours and
+that man's.' And here she shivered.
+
+'Will you tell me this one thing first? Is he--is Matthew O'Brien your
+husband?'
+
+'Yes; I suppose so. I was certainly married to him once.'
+
+'Then, why, in the name of heaven, Mrs. Blake, do you allow people to
+consider you a widow?'
+
+'Because I am a widow,' she returned harshly. 'Because I have unmarried
+myself and given up my husband. Because I refused to have anything more
+to do with him--he brought me disgrace, and I hated him for it.'
+
+'But, pardon me, it is not possible--no woman can unmarry herself in
+this fashion--unless you mean----'
+
+And here he stopped, feeling it impossible to put any such question to
+her. But what on earth could she mean?
+
+'No, I have not divorced him. I suppose, in one sense, he may still be
+regarded as my husband; but for fourteen years he has been dead to me,
+and I have called myself a widow.'
+
+'But you must have known it was wrong,' he returned, a little bewildered
+by these extraordinary statements. If she had not looked so wan and
+haggard, he would have accused her of talking wildly.
+
+'No, Captain Burnett; I do not own it was wrong. Under some
+circumstances a woman is bound to defend herself and her children--a
+tigress will brave a loaded gun if her young are starving. If it were
+to come over again, I would do the same. But I will acknowledge to you
+that I did not love my husband.'
+
+'No; that is evident.'
+
+'I never loved him, though I was foolish enough to marry him. I suppose
+I cared for him in a sort of way. He was handsome, and had soft,
+pleasant ways with him; and I was young and giddy, and ready for any
+excitement. But I had not been his wife three months before I would have
+given worlds to have undone my marriage.'
+
+'Was he a bad husband to you?'
+
+'No. Mat was always too soft for unkindness; but he was not the man for
+me. Besides, I had married him out of pique--there was someone I liked
+much better. You see, I am telling you all quite frankly. I am in your
+power, as I said before. If I refused to speak, you would just go to
+Mat, and he would tell you everything.'
+
+'I am very much relieved to find you so reasonable, Mrs. Blake. It is
+certainly wiser and better to tell me yourself. You have my promise
+that, as far as possible, I will give you my help; but at present I do
+not know how this may be.'
+
+'Yes; I will tell you my story,' she answered. But there was a
+bitterness of antagonism in her tone as she said this. 'I have always
+been afraid of you, Captain Burnett; I felt you disliked and mistrusted
+me, and I have never been easy with you. If it were not for Kester, and
+your kindness to him, I should be horribly afraid of you. But for
+Kester's sake you would not be hard on his mother.'
+
+'I would not be hard on any woman,' he answered quietly. 'It is true I
+have mistrusted you. I told you so yesterday. But if you will confide in
+me, you shall not repent your confidence.'
+
+'You mean you will not be my enemy.'
+
+'I am no woman's enemy,' he said a little proudly. 'I wish someone else
+had been in my place yesterday; you can understand it is not a pleasant
+business to ask these questions of a lady; but there are many interests
+involved, and I am like a son to Dr. Ross. I am bound to look into this
+matter more closely for his sake, and----' he paused, and, if possible,
+Mrs. Blake turned a little pale.
+
+'Let me tell you quickly,' she said. 'Perhaps, after all, you will not
+blame me, and you will help me to keep it from Cyril.' And here she
+looked at him imploringly, and he could see the muscles of her face
+quivering. 'No, I never loved Mat. I felt it was a condescension on my
+part to marry him. My people were well connected. One of my uncles was a
+dean, and another was a barrister. My father was a clergyman.'
+
+'What was his name?'
+
+'Stephen Carrick. He was Vicar of Bardley.'
+
+'I have heard of Dean Carrick; he wrote some book or other, and came
+into some notoriety before his death. Is it possible that you are his
+niece?'
+
+'Yes. I was very proud of him, and of my other uncle; but they would
+have nothing to do with me after my marriage. We were living in Ireland
+then, and when Mat brought me to London I seemed to have cut myself
+adrift from all my people. My father died not long afterwards, and my
+mother followed him, and my two brothers were at sea. I saw the name of
+Carrick in the papers one day--James Carrick--he was in the navy; so it
+must have been Jem. Well, he is dead, and, as far as I know, Charlie may
+be dead too.'
+
+She spoke with a degree of hardness that astonished him, but he would
+not interrupt her by a question. He saw that, for some reason of her
+own, she was willing to tell her story.
+
+'I soon found out my mistake when Mat brought me to London. From the
+first we were unfortunate; we had neither of us any experience. Our
+first landlady cheated us, and our lodgings were far too expensive for
+our means--my money had not then come to me. At my mother's death I was
+more independent.
+
+'I might have grown fonder of Mat but for one thing. Very shortly after
+our marriage--indeed, before the honeymoon was over--I discovered that
+he had already stooped to deceit. He had always led me to imagine that
+his people were well-to-do, and that his parentage was as respectable as
+mine; indeed, I understood that his only brother was a merchant, with
+considerable means at his disposal. I do not say Mat told me all this in
+words, but he had a way with him of implying things.
+
+'I was very proud--ridiculously proud, if you will--and I had a horror
+of trade. You may judge, then, the shock it was to me when I found out
+by the merest accident--from reading a fragment of a letter--that this
+brother was a corn-chandler in a small retail way.
+
+'We had our first quarrel then. Mat was very cowed and miserable when he
+saw how I took it; he wanted to coax me into forgiving his deceit.
+
+'"I knew what a proud little creature you were, Olive," he said, trying
+to extenuate his shabby conduct, "and that there was no chance of your
+listening to me if you found out Tom was a tradesman. What does it
+matter about the shop? Tom is as good a chap as ever breathed, and Susan
+is the best-hearted woman in the world." But I would not be conciliated.
+
+'I would not go near his people, and when he mentioned their names I
+always turned a deaf ear. It is a bad thing when a woman learns to
+despise her husband; but from that day I took Mat's true measure, and my
+heart seemed to harden against him. Perhaps I did not go the right way
+to improve him or keep him straight, but I soon found out that I dared
+not rely on him.
+
+'I think I should have left him before the year was out, only my baby
+was born and took all my thoughts; and Mat was so good to me, that for
+very shame I dare not hint at such a thing. But we were not happy. His
+very fondness made things worse, for he was always reproaching me for my
+coldness.
+
+'"You are the worst wife that a man could have," he would say to me.
+"You would not care if I were brought home dead any day, and yet if the
+boy's finger aches you want to send for the doctor. If I go to the bad,
+it will be your own fault, because you never have a kind look or word
+for me."
+
+'But he might as well have spoken to the wind. There was no love for Mat
+in my heart, and I worshipped my boy.'
+
+'You are speaking now of your eldest son?'
+
+'Yes; of Cyril. He was my first-born, and I doted on him. I had two
+other children before Kester came; but, happily, they died--I say
+happily, for I had hard work to make ends meet with three children. I
+was so wrapped up in my boy that I neglected Mat more and more; and when
+he took to going out of an evening I made no complaints. We were getting
+on better then, and I seldom quarrelled with him, unless he refused to
+give me money for the children. Perhaps he was afraid to cross me, for
+the money was generally forthcoming when I asked for it; but I never
+took the trouble to find out how he procured it. And he was only too
+pleased to find me good-tempered and ready to talk to him, or to bring
+Cyril to play with him; for he was fond of the boy, too. Well, things
+went on tolerably smoothly until Mollie was born; but she was only a few
+months old when the crash came.'
+
+She stopped, and an angry darkness came over her face.
+
+'You need not tell me,' returned Michael, anxious to spare her as much
+as possible. 'I am aware of the forgery for which your husband incurred
+penal servitude for so many years.'
+
+'You know that!' she exclaimed, with a terrified stare. 'Who could have
+told you? Oh, I forgot Mat's brother at Brail! Why did I never guess
+that Audrey's old friend she so often mentioned was this Tom O'Brien?
+But there are other O'Briens--there was one at Richmond when we lived
+there--and I thought he was still in his shop.'
+
+'We heard all the leading facts from him; he told Audrey everything.'
+
+'Then you shall hear my part now,' she returned, with flashing eyes.
+'What do you suppose were my feelings when I heard the news that Mat was
+in prison, and that my boy's father was a convicted felon? What do you
+imagine were my thoughts when I sat in my lodgings, with my children
+round me, knowing that this heritage of shame was on them?'
+
+'It was very bad for you,' he whispered softly, for her tragical aspect
+impressed him with a sense of grandeur. She was not good: by her own
+account she had been an unloving wife; but in her way she had been
+strong--only her strength had been for evil.
+
+'Yes, it was bad. I think for days I was almost crazed by my
+misfortunes; and then Mat sent for me. He was penitent, and wanted my
+forgiveness, so they told me.'
+
+'And you went?'
+
+'Of course I went. I had a word to say to him that needed an answer, and
+I was thankful for the opportunity to speak it. I dressed myself at
+once, and went to the prison. Cyril cried to come with me, and slapped
+me with his little hands when I refused to take him; but I only
+smothered him with kisses. I remember how he struggled to get free, and
+how indignant he was. "I don't love you one bit to-day, mamma! you are
+not my pretty mamma at all." But I only laughed at his childish pet--my
+bright, beautiful boy!--I can see him now.
+
+'Mat looked utterly miserable; but his wretchedness did not seem to
+touch me. The sin was his, and he must expiate it; it was I and my
+children who were the innocent sufferers. He began cursing himself for
+his mad folly, as he called it, and begged me over and over again to
+forgive him. I listened to him for a few minutes, and then I looked at
+him very steadily.
+
+'"I will forgive you, Mat, and not say a hard word to you, if you will
+promise me one thing."
+
+'"And what is that?" he asked, seeming as though he dreaded my answer.
+
+'"That you will never try to see me or my children again."'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+'SHALL YOU TELL HIM TO-NIGHT?'
+
+     'Wouldst thou do harm, and still unharmed thyself abide?
+     None struck another yet, except through his own side.
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     From our ill-ordered hearts we oft are fain to roam,
+     As men go forth who find unquietness at home.'
+
+                                                TRENCH.
+
+
+Michael raised his eyes and looked attentively at the woman before him;
+but she did not seem to notice him--she was too much absorbed in her
+miserable recital.
+
+'I had made up my mind to say this to him from the moment I heard he was
+in prison--he should have nothing more to do with me and the children.
+It was for their sake I said it.
+
+'He shrank back as though I had stabbed him, and then he began
+reproaching me in the old way: "I had never loved him; from the first I
+had helped to ruin him by my coldness; he was the most wretched man on
+earth, for his own wife had deserted him;" but after a time I stopped
+him.
+
+'"It is too late to say all this now, Mat; you are quite right--I never
+loved you. I was mad to marry you; we have never been suited to each
+other."
+
+'"But I was fond of you. I was always fond of you, Olive."
+
+'But I answered him sternly:
+
+'"Then prove your affection, Mat, by setting me free. Let me go my way
+and you go yours, for as truly as I stand here I will never live with
+you again."
+
+'"But what will you do?" he asked; "oh, Olive, do not be so cruelly
+hard! There is Tom; he will take you and the children, and care for you
+all."
+
+'But at the mention of his brother I lost all control over myself. Oh, I
+know I said some hard things then--I am not defending myself--and he
+begged me at last very piteously not to excite myself, and he would
+never mention Tom again; only he must know what I meant to do with
+myself and the children while he was working out his sentence.
+
+'"Then I will tell you," I replied; "for at least you have a right to
+know that, although from this day I will never acknowledge you as my
+husband. I will not go near your beggarly relations; but I have a little
+money of my own, as you know, though you have never been able to touch
+it. I will manage to keep the children on that."
+
+'Well, we talked--at least I talked--and at last I got him to promise
+that he would never molest me or the children again. Mat was always
+weak, and I managed to frighten him. I threatened to make away with
+myself and the children sooner than have this shame brought home to
+them, not that I meant it; but I was in one of my passionate moods, when
+anything seemed possible.
+
+'I told him what I meant to do, for I had planned it all in my head
+already. I would sell out all my money and change my investments, so
+that all clue should be lost; and I would take another name, and after a
+time the children should be told their father was dead. I would give
+myself out to be a widow, and in this way no disgrace would ever touch
+them. Would you believe it? Mat was so broken and penitent that he began
+to think that, after all, this would be best--that it would be kinder to
+me and the children to cut himself adrift from us.
+
+'I saw him again, and he gave me his promise. "You are a clever woman,
+Olive," he said; "you will do better for the youngsters than ever I
+could have done. I have brought disgrace on everyone belonging to me. If
+you would only have trusted to Tom!--but you will go your own gait. I
+dare not cross you; I never have dared, lest evil should come of it; but
+I think no woman ever had a colder heart."
+
+'"You have killed it, Mat," was my answer; and then I said good-bye to
+him, and we parted.
+
+'Well, I took Biddy into my confidence; she was a faithful creature, and
+had been devoted to me since my childhood. She had accompanied me to
+England on my marriage, and had been my one comfort before the children
+were born. Strange to say, she had always disliked Mat, and if I had
+only listened to her, his wooing would have been unsuccessful.
+
+'I found a lawyer who would do my business, and then I took a lodging at
+Richmond and called myself Mrs. Blake, and for a few years we lived
+quietly and comfortably.'
+
+'The investments had prospered, one especially was yielding a handsome
+dividend, so I was better off than I expected. I had got rid of some
+house property, and I put aside this money for my boy's education. I
+need not tell you that he was my one thought. Sometimes, when I saw him
+growing so fast, and looking so noble and handsome, my heart would quite
+swell with pride and happiness to think he was my son; and I forgot Mat
+and the past wretchedness, and only lived in and for him. My other
+children were nothing to me compared to him.'
+
+'And you heard nothing of your husband?'
+
+'I tell you I had no husband; he was dead to me. Do you think I would
+allow a man like Mat to blight my boy's career--a poor creature, weak as
+water, and never able to keep straight; a man who could be cowed into
+giving up his own wife and children? I would have died a hundred times
+over before I would have let Cyril know that his father was a convict.'
+
+Michael held his peace, but he shuddered slightly as he thought of
+Audrey. 'They will make her give him up,' he said to himself.
+
+'Yes, I was happy then,' she went on. 'I always had an elastic
+temperament. I did not mind the poverty and shifts as long as Cyril was
+well and contented. I used to glory in giving up one little comfort
+after another, and stinting myself that he might have the books he
+needed when he was at Oxford. I used to live on his letters, and the day
+when he came home was a red-letter day.'
+
+'And you never trembled at the idea that one day you might come face to
+face with your husband?'
+
+'Oh no; such a thought never crossed my mind. I knew Mat too well to
+fear that he would hunt me out and make a scene. Another man would, in
+his place, but not Mat: he had always been afraid of me, and he dared
+not try it on. It was accident--mere accident--that made him cross my
+path yesterday. But I know I can manage him still, and you--you will not
+betray me, Captain Burnett?'
+
+'I do not understand you,' he returned, almost unable to believe his
+ears. Could she really think that he would make himself a party to her
+duplicity?
+
+'I think my meaning is sufficiently clear,' she replied, as though
+impatient at his denseness. 'Now you have heard my story, you cannot
+blame me; under the circumstances, you must own that my conduct was
+perfectly justifiable.'
+
+'I am not your judge, Mrs. Blake,' he answered quietly; 'but in my
+opinion nothing could justify such an act of deception. None of us have
+any right to say, "Evil, be thou my good." When you deceived the world
+and your own children, by wearing widow's weeds, when all the time you
+knew you had a living husband, you were distinctly living a lie.'
+
+'And I glory in that lie!' she answered passionately.
+
+'Do not--do not!' he returned with some emotion; 'for it will bring you
+bitter sorrow. Do you think the son for whom you have sacrificed your
+integrity will thank you for it----' But before he could finish his
+sentence a low cry, almost of agony, stopped him. Ah, he had touched her
+there.
+
+'You will kill me,' she gasped, 'if you only hint at such a thing!
+Captain Burnett, I will say I am sorry--I will say anything--if you will
+only help me to keep this thing from my boy. Will you go to Mat? Will
+you ask him, for all our sakes, to go away? He is not a bad man. When he
+hears about Cyril's prospects he will not spoil them by coming here and
+making a scene. I will see him if he likes--but I think it would be
+better not. Tell him if he wants money he shall have it: there is a sum
+I can lay my hands on, and Cyril will never know.'
+
+'You want me to bribe your husband to go away?'
+
+'Yes. You have promised to help me; and this is the only way.'
+
+'Pardon me! There are limits to anything--an honest man cannot soil his
+hands with any such acts of deception. When I said I would help you, it
+was real help I meant--for good, and not for evil. I will not attempt to
+bribe your husband; neither will I stand by and see you blindfold your
+son.'
+
+Then she threw herself on her knees before him, with a faint cry for
+mercy. But he put her back in her seat, and then took her hands in his
+and held them firmly.
+
+'Hush! you must not do that. I will be as kind to you as I can. Do you
+think that my heart is not full of pity for you, in spite of your
+wrong-doing? Try to be reasonable and listen to me. I have only one
+piece of advice to give you. Tell your son everything, as you have told
+me.'
+
+'Never, never! I would die first.'
+
+'You do not know what you are saying,' he returned soothingly. 'Do you
+think a son is likely to judge his own mother harshly? If I can find it
+in my heart to pity you, will your own flesh and blood be more hard than
+a stranger?'
+
+'Oh, you do not know Cyril!' she replied with a shudder. 'He is so
+perfectly truthful. I have heard him say once that nothing can justify a
+deception. In spite of his goodness, he can be hard--very hard. When
+Kester was a little boy, he once, told a lie to shield Mollie, and Cyril
+would not speak to him for days.'
+
+'I do not say that he will not be shocked at first, and that you may not
+have to bear his displeasure. But it will be better--a hundred times
+better--for him to hear it from your own lips.'
+
+'He will never hear it,' she returned; and now she was weeping wildly.
+'The story will never be told by me. How could I bear to hear him tell
+me that I had ruined him--that his prospects were blasted? Oh, have
+mercy upon a miserable woman, Captain Burnett! For the sake of my
+boy--for Kester's and Mollie's sake--help me to send Mat away!'
+
+He made no answer, only looked at her with the same steady gentleness.
+That look, so calm, yet so inexorable, left her no vestige of hope. A
+rock would have yielded sooner than Michael Burnett, and she knew it.
+
+'I was wrong to trust you,' she sobbed. 'You are a hard man--I always
+knew that; you will stand by and see us all ruined, and my boy breaking
+his heart with shame and misery, and you will not stretch out your hand
+to save us.'
+
+But he let this pass. Her very despair was making her reckless of her
+words.
+
+'Mrs. Blake,' he said quietly, 'will you tell your son that he has a
+father living?'
+
+'No; I will not tell him!'
+
+Then Michael got up from his chair as though the interview were at an
+end. His movement seemed to alarm Mrs. Blake excessively.
+
+'You are not going? Do you mean that you are actually leaving me in this
+misery? Captain Burnett, I would not have believed you could be so
+cruel!'
+
+'There is no use in my staying. I cannot convince you that your best
+hope for the future is to throw yourself on your son's generosity. I
+regret that you will not listen to me--you are giving me a very painful
+task.'
+
+Then she started up and caught him by the arm.
+
+'Do you mean that you will tell him?'
+
+'I suppose so--somebody must do it; but I would rather cut off my right
+hand than do it.'
+
+'Shall you tell him to-night?'
+
+'No, certainly not to-night.'
+
+'To-morrow?'
+
+'Yes, to-morrow or the next day; but I must speak to Mr. O'Brien and Dr.
+Ross first.'
+
+Then she left him without saying another word; but it went to his heart
+to see her cowering over the fire in her old miserable attitude.
+
+'Mrs. Blake,' he said, following her, 'if you think better of this, will
+you write to me? Two or three words will be enough: "I will tell him
+myself" just that----' but she made no reply. 'I shall wait in the hope
+that I may receive such a note; a few hours' delay will not matter, and
+perhaps a little consideration may induce you to be brave. Remember,
+there is no wrong-doing except that of heinous and deadly sin that we
+may not strive to set right. It needs courage to confess to a
+fellow-creature, but love should give you this courage.'
+
+But still she did not move or speak, and he was forced to leave her. He
+found Biddy hovering about the dark passage, and he guessed at once that
+she had been a listener. A moment's consideration induced him to take
+the old woman by the shoulder and draw her into an empty room close by.
+
+She looked somewhat scared at his action. She had a candle in her hand,
+and he could see how furtively her wild, hawk-like eyes glanced at him.
+
+'Biddy, I know you are your mistress's trusted friend--that she confides
+in you.'
+
+'Ay.'
+
+'Use every argument in your power, then, to induce her to tell her son
+about his father.'
+
+'I dare not, sir; she would fly into one of her mad passions and strike
+me.'
+
+'Good heavens!'
+
+'I have work enough with her sometimes; she has always had her tantrums
+from a child; but I'm used to them, and I know how to humour her. She
+will never tell Mr. Cyril; I know them both too well for that.'
+
+'You heard all I said, Biddy. You need not deny it. You have been
+listening at the door.'
+
+'It is not me who would deny it,' she returned boldly; but there was a
+flush on her withered cheek. 'There is nothing that my mistress could
+say that she would wish to keep from me. I have been with her all her
+life. As a baby she slept in my bosom, and I loved her as my own child.
+Ah, it was an ill day for Miss Olive when she took up with that
+good-for-nothing Matthew O'Brien; bad luck to him and his!'
+
+'Nevertheless, he is her husband, Biddy.'
+
+'I don't know about that, sir. I was never married myself, and fourteen
+years is a long absence. Aren't they more her children than his, when
+she has slaved and sacrificed herself for them? You meant it well, sir,
+what you said to the mistress; but I take the liberty of differing from
+you, and I would sooner bite my tongue out than speak the word that will
+bring them all to shame.'
+
+'Then I must not look to you for help?'
+
+'I am afraid not, sir. I am on my mistress's side.'
+
+'You are an obstinate old woman, Biddy, and I looked for better sense at
+your age.'
+
+Nevertheless, he shook her by the hand very kindly, and then she lighted
+him downstairs.
+
+Mollie came out of the dining-room and looked at him wistfully.
+
+'Is mamma better now, Captain Burnett?'
+
+'Well, no, I am afraid not: but I think you need not trouble. Biddy will
+look after her.'
+
+'Biddy is dreadfully mysterious, and will hardly let any of us speak to
+mamma; but I think it is my place, not Biddy's, to wait on her. She has
+no right to tell me to go downstairs, and to treat me like a child. I am
+fifteen.'
+
+'Yes; indeed, you are growing quite a woman, Mollie.'
+
+And Michael looked very kindly at Audrey's _protegee_. He and Mollie
+were great friends.
+
+'Cyril came in some time ago. He had to dress for the party, you know,
+and Biddy would not let him go into the drawing-room and interrupt you;
+she was mounting guard all the time. Cyril was quite cross at last, and
+asked me what on earth was the matter, and why you and mamma were having
+a private interview; but of course I could not tell him.'
+
+'I suppose not, my dear.'
+
+'He says he shall ask mamma to-morrow, and that he shall bring Miss Ross
+to see her, because he is sure she is ill. Will you come in and see
+Kester, Captain Burnett?--he is busy with his Greek.'
+
+But Michael declined; it was late, and he must hurry home and dress for
+dinner.
+
+He had forgotten all about the Charringtons' dinner-party and dance, and
+he was a little startled, as he entered the hall, to see Audrey standing
+before the fire talking to Cyril. Both of them were in evening dress.
+
+Audrey looked very pretty; she wore a white silk dress. He had seen her
+in it once before, and he had thought then how wonderfully well it
+became her; and the sparkling cross rested against her soft throat.
+Cyril's roses, with their pale pinky tint, gave her just the colour that
+was needed, and her eyes were very bright; and perhaps her lover's
+praise had brought that lovely glow to her face.
+
+'You will be late, Michael; the dressing-bell sounded an age ago, and
+father is in the drawing-room. What have you been doing with yourself
+all these hours?'
+
+'I had forgotten you were going out,' he returned, parrying her
+question. 'How nice you look, Audrey! I thought white silk was bridal
+finery. Cinderella turned into a princess was nothing to you.'
+
+'I feel like a princess with my roses and diamonds;' but she looked at
+Cyril, not at Michael, as she spoke. Cyril was standing beside her with
+one arm against the carved mantelpiece; he was looking handsomer than
+ever. Just then there was the sound of carriage-wheels, and he took up
+the furred cloak that lay on the settee beside him, and put it gently
+round her shoulders.
+
+'You must not take cold,' Michael heard him say. There was nothing in
+the words, but the glance that accompanied this simple remark spoke
+volumes. Michael drew a deep heavy sigh as he went upstairs. 'Poor
+fellow! how he worships her!' he thought;' what will be the end of this
+tangle?' And then he dressed himself hastily and took his place at the
+table to eat his dinner with what appetite he might, while Mrs. Ross
+discoursed to him placidly on the baby's beauty and on dear Geraldine's
+merits as a mother and hostess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+'I MUST THINK OF MY CHILD, MIKE'
+
+     'Ah! the problem of grief and evil is, and will be always, the
+     greatest enigma of being, only second to the existence of being
+     itself.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+Michael listened in a sort of dream. He was telling himself all the time
+that his opportunity was come, and that it was incumbent on him not to
+sleep another night under his cousin's roof until he had made known to
+him this grievous thing.
+
+As soon as they rose from the table, and Dr. Ross was preparing as usual
+to follow his wife into the drawing-room until the prayer-bell summoned
+him into the schoolroom, Michael said, a little more seriously than
+usual:
+
+'Dr. Ross, would you mind giving me half an hour in the study after
+prayers? I want your advice about something;' for he wished to secure
+this quiet time before Audrey returned from her party.
+
+The Doctor was an observant man, in spite of his occasional absence of
+mind, and he saw at once that something was amiss.
+
+'Shall you be able to do without us this evening, Emmie?' he said, with
+his usual old-fashioned politeness, that his wife and daughters thought
+the very model of perfection: 'it is too bad to leave you alone when
+Audrey is not here to keep you company.'
+
+But Mrs. Ross assured him that she would not in the least mind such
+solitude; she was reading the third volume of an exciting novel, and
+would not be sorry to finish it. And as soon as this was settled and the
+coffee served, the gong sounded, and they all adjourned to the
+schoolroom.
+
+Michael never missed this function, as he called it. He liked to sit in
+his corner and watch the rows of boyish faces before him, and try to
+imagine what their future would be; and, above all things, he loved to
+hear the fresh young voices uniting in their evening hymn; but on this
+evening he regarded them with some degree of sadness.
+
+'They have the best of it,' he thought rather moodily; 'they little know
+what is before them, poor fellows! and the hard rubs fate has in store
+for them.' And then, as they filed past him and one little fellow smiled
+at him, he drew him aside and put him between his knees.
+
+'You look very happy, Willie. I suppose you have not been caned
+to-day?'--a favourite joke of the Captain's.
+
+'No, sir,' returned Willie proudly; 'but Jefferson minor fought me, and
+I licked him. You may ask the other fellows, and they would tell you it
+was all fair. He is a head taller than me, and I licked him,' finished
+Willie, with an air of immense satisfaction on his chubby baby face.
+
+'Ah, you licked him, did you?' returned Michael absently; 'and Jefferson
+minor is beaten. I hope you shook hands afterwards; fair fight and no
+malice, Willie. There's a shilling for you because you did not show the
+white feather in the face of the enemy. You will be at the head of a
+brigade yet, my boy.' For all Dr. Ross's lads were bitten with the
+military fever, and from Willie Sayers to broad-shouldered Jeff Davidson
+each boy nourished a secret passion and desire to follow the Captain's
+footsteps, and were ready to be hewed and slashed into small pieces if
+only the Victoria Cross might be their reward.
+
+As soon as the curly-haired champion had left him, Michael followed his
+cousin into the study. Dr. Ross had already lighted his lamp, and roused
+his fire into a cheerful blaze.
+
+'What is it, Mike? you look bothered,' he asked, as Michael drew up his
+chair. 'Nothing wrong with the money, I hope?'
+
+'What should be wrong about it?' returned Michael rather disdainfully;
+'it is about as safe as the Bank of England. No; it is something very
+different--a matter that I may say concerns us all. I heard something
+the other day rather uncomfortable about the Blakes.'
+
+'Nothing discreditable, I hope?' returned the Doctor quickly.
+
+'I am afraid I must answer "Yes" to that question; but, at least, I can
+assure you that there is nothing against Blake.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross looked relieved.
+
+'Whatever blame there is attaches solely to the mother.'
+
+'Humph! With all her good looks, I never quite liked the woman,'
+ejaculated Dr. Ross _sotto voce_. Nevertheless, he had always been
+extremely pleasant with her; but perhaps a man finds it difficult to be
+otherwise with a pretty woman.
+
+'I have unfortunately found out--but perhaps I ought to say fortunately
+for us--that Mrs. Blake is not a widow: her husband is living.'
+
+'Good heavens!'
+
+'Neither is her name Blake; she changed it at the time she discarded her
+husband. I am afraid you must prepare yourself for a shock, Dr. Ross,
+for the whole thing is distinctly reprehensible.'
+
+'And you mean to tell me,' returned the Doctor, with an anxious
+blackness gathering on his brow, 'that Cyril--that my future son-in-law
+is cognisant of this fact?'
+
+'No, no!' replied Michael eagerly; 'you are doing him injustice. Blake
+is as ignorant of the thing as you are yourself; he has no more to do
+with it than you or I. Did I not tell you that the sole blame rests with
+his mother?'
+
+Then the Doctor, in spite of his Christianity, pronounced a malediction
+against the Blake womankind.
+
+'She is just the sort to get into mischief,' he continued; 'there is a
+dangerous look in her eyes. Go on, Michael; don't keep me in suspense.
+There is something disgraceful behind all this. What reason has any
+woman to allege for giving up her husband?'
+
+'Her excuse is that he brought shame and dishonour on her and on his
+children, and that she would have nothing more to do with him. He had
+committed a forgery, and had been condemned to penal servitude for seven
+years.'
+
+Then the Doctor said 'Good heavens!' again. At certain moments of
+existence it is not possible to be original--when the roof is falling on
+one's head, for example, or a deadly avalanche is threatening. But
+Michael needed no answer; he only wished to finish his story as quickly
+as possible.
+
+'You know Audrey's friend, Thomas O'Brien?'
+
+'To be sure I do. He is a retired corn-chandler. I went to his shop
+once, in Peterborough.'
+
+'And you have probably heard of his brother Mat?'
+
+Then Dr. Ross gazed at him with a face of despair. His misfortunes were
+accumulating; he had a sense of nightmare and oppression. Surely this
+hideous thing could not be true! no such disgrace could threaten him and
+his! If an earthquake had opened in the Woodcote grounds, he could not
+have looked more horrified.
+
+'Do you mean to tell me, Mike, that this Mat O'Brien is Cyril's father?'
+
+Then Michael gave him a detailed and carefully-worded account of his
+interview with Mrs. Blake.
+
+'Then it is true--quite true?' in a hopeless tone.
+
+'There cannot be a doubt of it; I had it from her own lips. To-morrow I
+must see O'Brien himself, and hear his side. I cannot help saying that I
+am sorry for the woman, in spite of her falseness; she is utterly
+crushed with her misery.' But it may be doubted if Dr. Ross heard this:
+he was occupied with his own reflections.
+
+'This will break Audrey's heart; she is devoted to the fellow.'
+
+'Oh, I hope not; she has more strength than other girls.'
+
+'Of course I cannot allow this affair to go on: I must see Blake, and
+tell him so at once.'
+
+'There is no hurry, is there? I think you should let me speak to O'Brien
+first.'
+
+'Well, if you wish it; but I confess I do not see the necessity.'
+
+'And I hope you will be gentle with Blake: remember that not a vestige
+of blame attaches to him; it is simply his misfortune that he is the son
+of such parents. I expect he will be utterly broken-hearted.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross gave vent to an impatient groan. No man had a softer heart
+than he, and he had liked Cyril from the first.
+
+'I must think of my child, Mike,' he said at last.
+
+'Yes, you must think of her; but you must be merciful to him, too. Think
+what he will suffer when he knows this; and he is as innocent as a
+babe! I suppose'--and then he hesitated, and looked at his cousin--'that
+there will be no way of hushing up things, and letting the engagement go
+on?'
+
+Then the Doctor nearly sprang out of his chair.
+
+'Are you out of your senses, Michael, to put such a question to me? Is
+it likely that any man in my position would allow his family to be
+allied to a convicted criminal? Would any amount of hushing up render
+such an alliance tolerable?'
+
+'Well, I suppose not.'
+
+'I have never cared much for conventionality, or for the mere show of
+things; but I suppose that, in some sense, the good opinion of my
+fellow-men is necessary for my comfort. When Blake came to me, and told
+me that he had not a shilling in the world beside his earnings as my
+classical master, I did not let his poverty stand in the way. I told him
+that, as my girl's happiness was involved, I could not find it in my
+heart to withhold my consent.
+
+'"You are certainly not in the position in which I should wish to see my
+son-in-law," I said to him; "but I will speak to Charrington, and see
+what is to be done."
+
+'Well, I have spoken, and Charrington only promised the other day that
+he would push him on. I have no doubt at all that, with my interest and
+standing in the place, Cyril would have had a house in time, and
+Audrey's position would have been equal to her sister's.'
+
+'And you mean to say that all this is at an end?'
+
+'Of course it is at an end!' almost shouted the Doctor; 'and Cyril's
+career is practically at an end, too. Do you suppose any public school
+in England would employ a master whose relatives are so disreputable
+that he is obliged to make use of an assumed name? When I refuse to
+allow him to marry my daughter, I must give him his _conge_ at the same
+time.'
+
+'Then in that case he is a ruined man;' and to this Dr. Ross gave a
+sorrowful assent.
+
+'How am I to help myself or him, Mike? I will do all in my power to
+soften the weight of this blow to him; but when all is at an end between
+him and Audrey, how am I to keep him in Rutherford? The thing would he
+impossible. He would not wish it himself. He is very proud and
+high-spirited by nature, and such a position would be intolerable to
+him. No, he must go; but if money will help him, he may command me to
+any reasonable amount.'
+
+'He will not take your money;' and then he added 'Poor beggar!' under
+his breath.
+
+'You will stand by me, Mike?'
+
+'Most certainly I will; but I mean to befriend Blake, too, as far as he
+will let me.'
+
+'I should not think he would refuse your sympathy; a man needs someone
+at such a time. But when I spoke I was thinking of my girl. You have
+great influence with her, Michael; sometimes I think no brother's
+influence could be stronger. How would it be if she were to hear the
+news first from you?'
+
+Then Michael recoiled as though someone had struck him in the face.
+
+'Impossible! I could not tell her. I would rather be shot!' he returned
+vehemently.
+
+'Well, it is not a pleasant business, and I suppose I must do it myself;
+only the idea crossed my mind that perhaps it might come better from
+you. I shall not be able to refrain from indignation; I am apt to get a
+little warm sometimes.'
+
+But Michael firmly negatived this notion.
+
+'It will go hard with her, whoever tells it,' he said decidedly.
+'Nothing can soften such a blow, and it is far better for her to hear it
+from her father. You see,' he continued rather sadly, 'it will be a fair
+division, for I have to break it to poor Blake; and I shall have tough
+work with him, for he worships the ground she walks on.'
+
+'Ay, poor fellow! I know he does. What a cruel affair it is, Mike! That
+woman's deceit will go far to spoil two lives.'
+
+But to this Michael would not agree. He said, with a great deal of
+feeling, that Audrey was not the girl to let any love-affair spoil her
+life; she thought too little of herself, was too considerate and
+unselfish, to allow any private unhappiness to get too strong a hold
+over her, and so spoil other people's lives.
+
+'You will see what sort of stuff she has in her,' he said, with the
+enthusiasm of a lover who can find no flaw at all. 'She will bear her
+sorrow bravely, and not allow it to interfere with others. She is far
+too good and noble. You need not fear for her; she has strength enough
+for a dozen women.'
+
+And Dr. Ross felt himself a little comforted by such words.
+
+'Do you mind waiting up for her to-night?' he asked presently.
+'Unfortunately, Emmie has sent all the servants to bed, because I said I
+had some writing to do. I feel very upset about all this, and she will
+find out from my manner that something is amiss. Would it bother you,
+Mike? She will just come in here and warm herself; but if you tell her
+you are tired, she will not detain you.'
+
+'I can have no objection to do that,' replied Michael, trying to hide
+his reluctance; and, indeed, Dr. Ross looked so pale and jaded, that
+Audrey's suspicions would have been excited. 'Go to bed and get a good
+night's rest; it is nearly twelve now, and they meant to be home by
+one.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross allowed himself to be persuaded.
+
+'I don't know about the good night's rest,' he replied; 'but I should be
+glad to think over the whole thing quietly before I see either of them.
+There is no hurry, as you say, and perhaps you had better get your
+interview over with O'Brien.'
+
+'Shall you tell Cousin Emmeline?'
+
+'Tell Emmie!' and here the Doctor's voice was somewhat irritable, as one
+disagreeable detail opened after another. 'Not to-night, certainly. Why,
+she will be asleep. No, it would never do to tell her before Audrey; it
+would get round to Geraldine, and there would be the deuce of a row.
+Tell the child I was tired, and bid her good-night.'
+
+And then Dr. Ross shook Michael's hand with fervour and took himself
+off.
+
+Michael spent a dreary hour by himself in the study. It was a relief to
+him when he heard the carriage-wheels, but as he opened the door he was
+quite dazzled at the scene before him. It was a brilliant moonlight
+night, and the terrace and wide lawn were bathed in the pure white
+light. A crisp frost had touched the grass and silvered each blade, and
+the effect against the dark background of trees and shrubs was intensely
+beautiful.
+
+And the moonlight shone full on Audrey's upturned face, as she stood
+talking to her lover, and the silken folds of her dress and her soft
+furred cloak and hood looked almost of unearthly whiteness. In Michael's
+bewildered eyes she seemed invested at the present moment with some new
+and regal beauty; but her light musical laugh dispelled the illusion.
+
+'Why, Michael, what has become of father?'
+
+'He was tired, and went off to bed more than an hour ago. I hope you do
+not object to his deputy. I suppose you are not coming in, Blake, as it
+is so late?'
+
+'Of course he is not,' returned Audrey in a tone that allowed of no
+appeal. 'He has early work to-morrow, and must get as much rest as he
+can. Good-night, Cyril; we have had a delightful evening, have we not?'
+And to this Cyril responded gaily--for it was not possible there could
+be any lingering adieus before Michael; and as Cyril ran down the
+terrace Audrey waited until Michael had fastened the door, and then
+accompanied him to the study.
+
+'How nice and warm it is!' she observed in a pleased tone. 'You always
+keep up such a splendid fire.'
+
+'I am a chilly mortal, you know, and these March nights have a touch of
+December in them.'
+
+'Yes; it is quite frosty.'
+
+And Audrey threw back her hood and cloak and sat down in Dr. Ross's
+favourite chair. 'Had she any idea how like a picture she looked,'
+Michael wondered, 'with all those soft white draperies about her, and
+the sparkling cross upon her neck?' Then he turned away his head with a
+mute sensation of pain. How happy, how very happy, she looked!
+
+'We have had such a nice evening, she began in her most animated manner;
+'everything was so well arranged. There was a dinner-party first, which
+was followed by what they called a Cinderella dance; but actually they
+do not mean to break up for another hour and a half. Mrs. Charrington
+was quite annoyed because we came home so early.'
+
+'And you enjoyed yourself?'
+
+'Oh, immensely! I waltzed twice with Cyril. Do you know, he dances
+splendidly--he was certainly my best partner.'
+
+'Yes; he looks as though he would dance well. Would you believe it,
+Audrey, that when I was a youngster I was considered a good dancer, too?
+It is rather droll to remember that now.'
+
+'I can very easily believe it--you do everything well, Michael.'
+
+'Pshaw!' And then Michael added, with a pretended yawn: 'I think I could
+sleep well, though.'
+
+But Audrey refused to take this very broad hint.
+
+'What a hurry you are in! And I have not warmed myself yet. Do stay a
+little longer, Michael. I so seldom get you to myself.'
+
+'But it is very late,' he returned, unwilling to yield.
+
+'I will only keep you a few minutes,' she replied eagerly; 'but I want
+to tell you something.'
+
+Then he was obliged to sit down again.
+
+'What is it?' he asked a little languidly, for the spell of her presence
+was so strong that it threatened to subjugate him. He was never
+willingly alone with her now. The fear was always upon him that, in some
+weak moment, he might betray himself. The fear was an idle one--no man
+was less likely than Michael to lose his self-control; but,
+nevertheless, it was there.
+
+'It is about Cyril,' she returned softly. 'Dr. Charrington has been so
+nice to him to-night. He stood out once during the Lancers, and Dr.
+Charrington came up to him, and they had quite a long talk together. He
+said father had been speaking to him, and that he had quite made up his
+mind that Cyril should be in the upper school next year, when Mr.
+Hanbury left. It would be a better position, and he would be able to
+have private pupils. And he as good as told him that he would do his
+best to push him, for father's sake.'
+
+'Blake must have been very pleased at this,' replied Michael; but he
+spoke in a dull, monotonous way.
+
+'Yes; he is quite excited. Don't you see,' she continued a little shyly,
+'it will make all the difference to us if Dr. Charrington pushes Cyril;
+for of course it will make it possible for him to marry.'
+
+Then Michael felt as though he had accidentally touched a full-charged
+battery. He waited until the numb, tingling sensation had left him
+before he answered her.
+
+'I did not know that you wished to shorten your engagement,' he said
+very quietly; 'I understood that there would be no talk of settling for
+the next two or three years; but, of course, if your father has no
+objection----'
+
+'How you talk, Michael!' returned Audrey, blushing with some annoyance
+at this obvious misunderstanding of her meaning; 'it is Cyril who is in
+a hurry: for myself, I should be perfectly content to go on as we are
+for the next five years. Do you not remember my tirade on the pleasures
+of freedom?'
+
+'I think I do recall something of the kind.' Alas! had he ever forgotten
+anything she had said to him?
+
+'Well, I am afraid I am of the same opinion still; only I dare not let
+Cyril know that: he would be so hurt. I suppose,' reflectively, 'men are
+different from women; they do always seem in such a dreadful hurry about
+everything. When Cyril complains that he feels unsettled, and that I get
+between him and his work, I do not pretend to understand him. I am very
+matter-of-fact, am I not, Michael?'
+
+'I should not have said so.'
+
+'Oh, but I am; and I am afraid Cyril thinks so. Well, as I have told you
+my good news I will not detain you any longer.' And then Michael rose
+with a feeling of relief.
+
+But as he followed her a few minutes later upstairs, he wondered what
+she must have thought of him. With all his efforts, he had been unable
+to bring himself to utter one word of congratulation. 'It would have
+been a lie,' he said to himself vehemently; 'how could I find it in my
+heart to deceive her for a moment? This may be their last happy day,
+Heaven help them both!' and Michael went to bed in profound
+wretchedness.
+
+'My roses are withered,' thought Audrey, as she regarded the drooping
+buds and leaves; 'my poor beautiful roses, and they were Cyril's gift,
+too. What a pity that flowers must die, and we must grow old--that in
+this world there must always be decay and change! Shall I ever be
+happier than I am to-night, with Cyril to love me, and Michael--dear
+Michael--to be my friend? What makes him so grave? He is always grave
+now.' And then she sighed and laid down her flowers, and took the
+glittering cross from her neck. 'My poor Michael! I should like to see
+him happy, too,' she finished, as she put it away in its case.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+'OLIVE WILL ACKNOWLEDGE ANYTHING'
+
+     'Evil, like a rolling stone upon a mountain-top,
+     A child may first impel, a giant cannot stop.'--TRENCH.
+
+     'By despising himself too much, a man comes to be worthy of his own
+     contempt.'--AMIEL.
+
+
+Audrey was sure it was the east wind that made everyone so unlike
+themselves the next morning. Bailey had told her that the wind was
+decidedly easterly, or, perhaps, more strictly speaking, north-east. She
+had run down the garden to speak to him about some plants, and perhaps
+with some intention of intercepting Cyril when he went across to
+breakfast, and they had had quite a confabulation on the subject.
+
+But when she got back to the house she found rather a subdued state of
+things. Mrs. Ross looked tired; her husband had kept her awake by his
+restlessness, and she had got it firmly in her mind that a fit of gout
+was impending. Dr. Ross had once had a touch of gout--a very slight
+touch, to be sure--but it had given him a wholesome fear of the
+complaint, and had implanted in him a deep distrust of other men's port
+wine; and his devoted wife had never forgotten the circumstance.
+
+'And I am sure,' she observed in an undertone to her daughter, 'that if
+I were not quite certain that there is nothing troubling your
+father--for, of course, he would have told me of it at once--I should
+have said there was something on his mind, for he tossed and groaned so;
+but mark my words, Audrey, it is his old enemy, the gout; and if only I
+could induce him to speak to Dr. Pilkington we might ward it off still.'
+
+'What is that you are telling the child, Emmie?' asked the Doctor, who
+had very sharp ears. 'Gout! stuff and nonsense! I never was better in my
+life.'
+
+'I think your complexion looks a little sallow this morning, John,'
+returned Mrs. Ross rather timidly, for she knew her husband's objection
+to any form of ailment; 'and I am sure you never closed your eyes all
+night.' But at this Dr. Ross pished impatiently, and it was then that
+Audrey hazarded her brilliant suggestion about the east wind.
+
+'Michael looks rather limp, too,' she went on; 'and he never could
+endure an east wind.'
+
+'Have your own way, Audrey,' returned her cousin good-humouredly; but
+neither to her nor to Mrs. Ross did he confess that his night had been
+sleepless too. When he had finished his breakfast he went round to the
+stables, where Dr. Ross joined him. He had ordered the dog-cart to be
+got ready for him, and he told the groom that there was no need to bring
+it round to the front door.
+
+Dr. Ross watched him silently as he drew on his driving gloves and
+turned up the collar of his coat.
+
+'You will have a cold drive, I am afraid,' he said at last, as Michael
+took the reins and the brown mare began to fidget; 'come to my study the
+moment you get back.' And Michael nodded.
+
+Much as he disliked the business before him, he was anxious to get it
+over; so he drove as fast as possible; and as the mare was fresh and
+skittish, she gave him plenty to think about, and he was quite warm with
+the exertion of holding her in and restraining her playful antics by the
+time he pulled up at the village inn, which went by the name of the Cat
+and Fiddle. Here he had the mare put up, while he walked down the one
+main street of Brail, and down a lane or two, until he came to Mr.
+O'Brien's sequestered cottage.
+
+Mr. O'Brien opened the door himself. When he saw Michael, he shook his
+head with an air of profound sadness, and led the way without speaking
+into the parlour, where he usually sat, and where Sam was basking before
+the fire after the luxurious habit of cats.
+
+He got up, however, and rubbed his sleek head against Michael's knee as
+he sat down in the black elbow-chair; but Mr. O'Brien still stood on the
+rug, shaking his head sadly.
+
+'You have come, Captain. I made up my mind you would come to-day, to get
+at the rights of it; I told Mat so. "Depend upon it, the Captain will
+look us up," I said to him; "he is a man of action, and it is not likely
+he will let the grass grow under his feet. He will be round, sure
+enough, and you will have to be ready with your answers."'
+
+'Where is your brother, Mr. O'Brien?'
+
+'He has gone out for a bit, but he will be back presently. I told him
+not to go far. "You'll be wanted, you may take my word for it--you'll be
+wanted, Mat," I told him; and then he promised he would be round
+directly.'
+
+'I am afraid this affair has been a great shock to you, Mr. O'Brien.
+Miss Ross once told me that you had no idea whom your brother married.'
+
+'Well, sir, I can't say as much as that. Mat told me that the name of
+the girl he was going to wed was Olive Carrick, and that she came of
+respectable people; but he did not tell me much more than that. And now
+I put it to you, Captain--how was I to know that any woman would falsify
+her husband's name, and that she should be living close to my doors, as
+one might say?--for what is a matter of three miles? It gave me a sort
+of shiver--and I have not properly got rid of it yet--when I think of
+that dear young creature, whom Susan and me have always loved--that she
+should be entrapped through that woman's falseness into an engagement
+with Mat's son. It goes to my heart--it does indeed, Captain--to see
+that dear, sweet lady dragged into a connection that will only disgrace
+her.'
+
+'My cousin would think it no disgrace to be connected with you, Mr.
+O'Brien;' for he knew too well Audrey's large-mindedness and absence of
+conventionality. 'She has always looked upon you as her friend.'
+
+'Thank you, Captain; that is very handsomely said, and I wish my Prissy
+could have heard it, for she has done nothing but cry since the news
+reached her. "Rachel refusing to be comforted" is nothing compared to
+Prissy when the mood is on her; she literally waters all her meals with
+her tears. Yes, you mean it handsomely; but I am an old man, Captain
+Burnett, and know the world a bit, and I have the sense to see that
+Thomas O'Brien--honest and painstaking as he may be--is no fit
+connection for Dr. Ross's daughter. Why, to think she might be my niece
+and call me "uncle"!' and here the old man's face flushed as he spoke.
+'It is not right; it is not as it should be. She must give him up--she
+must indeed, Captain!'
+
+'I am afraid Dr. Ross holds that opinion, Mr. O'Brien. You will
+understand that he means no disrespect to you; but it is simply
+intolerable to him that any daughter of his should marry Matthew
+O'Brien's son. You see, I am speaking very plainly.'
+
+'Yes, sir; and I am speaking just as plainly to you. In this sort of
+case it is no use beating about the bush. Mat has made his bed, and he
+must just lie on it; and his children--Heaven help them, poor young
+things!--must just lie on theirs too. Dear, dear! to think that when she
+was talking to me so pleasantly about Mollie and Kester, and--what is
+her lad's name?--that neither she nor I had an idea that she was
+speaking to their uncle! There, it beats me, Captain--it does indeed!'
+And there were tears in the old man's eyes.
+
+'I am afraid there is heavy trouble in store for them all, and for my
+cousin, too; she will be very unwilling to give up Blake.'
+
+'Humph! that is what he calls himself! Well, she was always faithful,
+Captain; she is made of good stout stuff, and that sort wears best in
+the long-run. If she is a bit difficult, send her to me, and I'll talk
+to her. I will put things before her in a light she won't be able to
+resist.'
+
+In spite of the sadness of the conversation, Michael could hardly
+forbear a smile.
+
+'I hardly know what you would say to her, Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'You leave that to me, Captain; it is best not to be too knowing about
+things. But I don't mind telling you one thing that I would say: "My
+dear young lady, you have been a good and true friend to Thomas O'Brien,
+and I am grateful and proud to call you my friend; but I will not have
+you for my niece. Mat's son may be good as gold--I have nothing to say
+against the poor lad, who, after all, is my own flesh and blood; but it
+would be a sin and shame to wed him, when his father picked oakum in a
+felon's cell." Don't you think that will fetch her, sir? Women are
+mostly proud, and like their menkind to have clean hands; and I'll say
+it, too!' And here Mr. O'Brien thumped the arm of his chair so
+emphatically, that Sam woke and uttered a reproachful mew.
+
+'I hope you will not be put to the pain of saying this to her,'
+returned. Michael, in a low voice.
+
+What a fine old fellow this was! He wondered what Dr. Ross would say
+when he repeated this speech to him. Nature must have intended Tom
+O'Brien for a gentleman. Could anything be more touching than the way he
+sought to shield his girl-friend, even putting aside the natural claims
+of his own flesh and blood to prevent her from being sullied by any
+contact with him and his?
+
+Michael felt as though he longed to shake hands with him, and tell him
+how he honoured and respected him; but he instinctively felt that any
+such testimony would hardly be understood. One word he did venture to
+say:
+
+'I think it is very good of you to take our side.'
+
+'Nay, sir, I can see nought of goodness in it. As my Susan used to say,
+you should not praise people for walking along a straight road, and for
+not taking the first crooked path that offers itself. Susan and I
+thought alike there--we were neither of us fond of crooked turnings.
+"There can only be one right and one wrong, Tom," as she would say; and
+I hope, Captain, that I shall always tell the truth and shame the devil
+as long as I am a living man.'
+
+'I should think there would be no doubt of that,' returned Michael
+heartily. And then a faint smile crossed the old man's face; but it
+faded in a moment, as footsteps sounded in the passage outside.
+
+'That is Mat; he has kept his word in coming back so soon. I had better
+fetch him in, and then you'll get it over.'
+
+'You need not leave the room, Mr. O'Brien; this is your business as well
+as ours.'
+
+'I know it, sir. But, thank you kindly, I feel as if I had said my say,
+and that I may as well bide quiet with Prissy. Mat has had it all out
+with me; we were up half the night talking. I always hoped I was a
+Christian, Captain; but I doubt it when I think of the words I spoke
+about that woman. She married that poor lad to serve her own purposes
+and to spite her lover; and while he doted on her, she just looked down
+on him, and scouted his people because they were in trade. She pretty
+nearly ruined him with her fine lady-like ways, and with pestering him
+for money that he had not got; and then, when he made that slip of his,
+and was almost crazy with the sin and the shame, she just gives him
+up--will have nothing more to do with him. And that is the woman that
+the Almighty made so fair outside that our poor foolish lad went half
+wild for the love of her! No, sir; if you will excuse me, I will just
+send Mat along, and keep in the background a bit. It makes me grind my
+teeth with pain and anger to hear how she treated the poor fellow,
+almost driving him mad with her bitter tongue!'
+
+'Then in that case I will certainly not keep you.' And as he spoke he
+noticed how the vigorous old man seemed to totter as he rose from his
+chair; but he only shook his head with the same gentle smile as Michael
+offered him his arm.
+
+'Nay, Captain; that is not needed. I am only a bit shaken with all
+that's passed, and you must give me time to right myself. Now I will
+send Mat in; and when you have finished I'll see you again.'
+
+Michael did not have to wait long. He had only crossed the room to look
+at a photograph of Susan O'Brien which always stood on a little round
+table in the corner, when he found the light suddenly intercepted, as
+Matthew O'Brien's tall figure blocked up the little window.
+
+To his surprise, Mat commenced the conversation quite easily:
+
+'You are looking at Susan, Captain Burnett? That was taken twelve or
+thirteen years ago. Isn't it a kind, true face?--that is better than a
+handsome one in the long-run. She does not look as though she would
+desert a man when his head is under water--eh, Captain?'
+
+'No, indeed!' returned Michael, falling at once into the other man's
+humour. 'Mrs. O'Brien must have been a thoroughly good woman, for her
+husband never seems to have got over her loss; he is always talking
+about her.'
+
+'That is so like Tom! He was never given to keep a silent tongue in his
+head: he must always speak out his thoughts, good or bad. That is rather
+different from me. Why, I have often spent days without opening my
+mouth, except to call to my dog. I think Tom finds it a relief to talk;
+the sound of his own tongue soothes him.'
+
+'Very likely. Shall we sit down, Mr. O'Brien? the fireside is rather a
+pleasant place this bitter March day.'
+
+'As you like,' returned Mat indifferently; 'for myself, I prefer to
+stand;' and as he spoke he propped his tall figure against the wooden
+mantelpiece, and, half shielding his face with one arm, looked down into
+the blaze.
+
+In this attitude Michael could only see his side-face, and he was
+startled at the strong likeness to Cyril--the profile was nearly as
+finely cut; and it was only when he turned his full face that the
+resemblance ceased to be so striking. Cyril had the same dark eyes and
+low, broad forehead; but his beautifully-formed mouth and chin were very
+different from his father's, which expressed far too clearly a weak,
+irresolute character. But he was a handsome man, and, in spite of his
+shabby coat, there was something almost distinguished in his appearance.
+Anyone seeing the man for the first time would have guessed he had a
+story; very probably, looking at his broad chest and closely-cropped
+gray hair and black moustache, they would have taken him for a soldier,
+as Michael did.
+
+Somehow, he found it a little difficult to begin the conversation; he
+hoped Matthew O'Brien would speak again; but he seemed disinclined to
+break the silence that had grown up between them.
+
+'You are not much like your brother, Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'No, sir; Tom and I are not much alike, and more's the pity. Tom has
+been an honest man all his life.'
+
+Michael was about to reply that that was not saying much in his favour;
+but he felt that under the circumstances this would be awkward, so he
+held his peace.
+
+'There aren't many men to beat Tom,' continued Mat. 'Few folk would be
+so stanch to their own flesh and blood when only disgrace would come of
+it; but Tom is too fine-hearted to trample on a fellow when he is down
+and other folk are crying "Fie! for shame!" on him. Would you believe
+it, sir,' stretching out a sinewy thin hand as he spoke, 'that that
+brother of mine never said an unkind word to me in my life; and when I
+came back to him that night, feeling none too sure of my welcome, it was
+just a grip of the hand and "Come in, my lad," as though I were the
+young chap I used to be coming home to spend my holiday with him and
+Susan.'
+
+'I think your brother one of the best men living, Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'And so he is, sir; and so he is; but you have not come all this way to
+talk about Tom;' and here he paused, and again the shielding hand went
+over his eyes, and Michael could see a twitching of the mouth under the
+moustache. 'It is about Olive that you want to see me.'
+
+'You are right. Will you kindly give me the date and place of your
+marriage?'
+
+Matthew O'Brien nodded and drew a folded paper from his breast-pocket.
+
+'There it is. Tom told me I had better write it down in black and white
+to save us all trouble. I have put down the date and the name of the
+church where we were married. Strange to say, I can even recollect the
+name of the parson who did the job; he was a little black-haired man,
+and his name was Craven. It was a runaway match, you know. Olive was
+stopping with some friends in Dublin, and I met her early one morning
+and took her to St. Patrick's. You will find it all right in the
+register--Matthew Robert O'Brien and Olive Carrick. There were only two
+witnesses: an old pew-opener, and a friend of mine, Edgar Boyle. Boyle
+is dead now, poor chap! but you will find his name all right.'
+
+'Can you tell me also, Mr. O'Brien, where I can find the entries of your
+children's baptism? It may be necessary for them to know this some day.'
+
+'Well, sir, I believe I can satisfy you on that point, too. We were
+living at Stoke Newington when the children were born. You will find
+their names in the register at St. Philip's--Cyril Langton Carrick: that
+was a bit of her pride; she wanted the boy to have her family names.
+Kester and Mary Olivia--my little Mollie as we meant to call her--I have
+not seen her since she was a baby;' and here Michael was sure Mat dashed
+away a tear. 'It was a barbarous thing to rob me of my children, and I
+was so fond of the little chaps, too. I think I took most to Kester; he
+was such a cunning, clever little rogue, and his mother did not make
+half the fuss about him that she did about Cyril.'
+
+'She has acknowledged that to me.'
+
+'I don't doubt it, sir. Olive will acknowledge anything; she will have
+her flare-up one minute and frighten you to death with her tantrums, and
+the next she will be as placid and sweet-tongued as ever. She was never
+the same for two days running; it would be always some scheme or other,
+something for which she needed money. I used to tell her she never
+opened her lips to me except to ask me for money; and woe betide me if I
+told her I was hard up.'
+
+'But she had money of her own?'
+
+'Yes; but she muddled it away. She was always a bad manager. I never saw
+such a woman; and Biddy was just as bad. We might have had a comfortable
+home, and I might have kept out of trouble, if she had listened to me;
+but I might as well have spoken to that wall.'
+
+'But surely it was your duty as her husband to restrain her? Her son
+manages her quite easily now.'
+
+'Perhaps so,' a little sullenly; 'maybe she cares for her son, though
+she turned against her husband; her heart was always like flint stone
+to me. I was afraid of her, Captain Burnett, and she knew it; and that
+gave her a handle over me. A man ought not to fear his own wife--it is
+against nature; but, there, when she looked at me in her cold,
+contemptuous way, and dared me to dictate to her, I felt all my courage
+ooze out of me. I could have struck her when she looked at me like that;
+and I think she wanted me to, just to make out a case against me: but,
+fool that I was, I was too fond of her and the children to do it. I bore
+it all, and perilled my good name for her sake; and this is how she has
+treated me--spurned me away from her as though I were a dog!'
+
+'She has not been a good wife to you; but, all the same, I do not
+understand why you took her at her word. Did you never in all these
+years make an effort to be reconciled with her for the sake of your
+children?'
+
+'You do not know Olive when you put such a question. There will be no
+reconciliation possible in this world. I may compel her to own herself
+my wife, but I could not force her to say a kind word to me. She talked
+me over into setting her free, and made me promise not to hunt her out.
+She got over me. Olive is a rare talker; she told me it would be better
+for the little chaps not to bear their father's name--she would take
+them away and bring them up to be good, honest men, and she would take
+care no shame should ever touch them; and would you believe it, sir, I
+was so cowed and broken with the thought of all those years I was to
+spend in prison, that for the time I agreed with her. It was just as
+though I had made her a promise to commit suicide. I was to let her and
+the children go, and not to put in my claims when they set me free; and
+as she talked and I answered her, it seemed to me as though Mat O'Brien
+were already dead.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+'HOW CAN I BEAR IT?'
+
+     'Through that gloom he will see but a shadow appearing,
+       Perceive but a voice as I come to his side;
+     But deeper their voice grows, and nobler their bearing,
+       Whose youth in the fires of anguish hath died.'
+
+                                                  MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Michael was trying to frame a suitable reply to this speech, that was at
+once so tragic and hopeless, when Mat suddenly turned to him and said,
+in a strangely altered voice:
+
+'I want you to tell me one thing, sir. Why does she call herself Blake?'
+
+'I am afraid I cannot enlighten you on that point,' returned Michael,
+after a moment's consideration; 'probably it was the first name that
+occurred to her. You will allow that it is short and handy, and that it
+is by no means conspicuous.' But this answer did not seem to satisfy
+Matthew O'Brien. An uneasy, almost suspicious look came into his eyes.
+
+'I suppose it does not mean,' he continued, hesitating over his words,
+'that she--Olive--has put herself under another man's protection?'
+
+'Good heavens, O'Brien!' exclaimed Michael, in a shocked voice. 'How can
+you wrong your wife so? With all her sins, I do not believe she is that
+sort of woman.'
+
+'You mistake me, sir,' returned Mat doggedly. 'And, in a way, you
+mistake Olive too. She has not got the notions of other women. She would
+not think things wrong that would horrify other folk. When she gave me
+up, she said that she should consider herself free, and she might even
+make it straight with her conscience to marry another man, who would be
+a better protector to her and the children. I do not say Olive has done
+this. But if it be so, by the powers above, Captain Burnett, I will
+have the law of her there! So let her and the other fellow look out for
+themselves!'
+
+'There is no need to excite yourself so, O'Brien. Your wife is too much
+a woman of the world to get herself into that sort of trouble. Her love
+for her eldest son is her master passion. And I do not suppose she has
+even given a thought to another man.'
+
+'I am glad to hear it, Captain. But Olive has fooled me once, and I
+doubted but she might have done it again. Perhaps you may not have heard
+it, but she would never have married me if Darrell--Major Darrell, he
+was--had not jilted her. She told me once, to spite me, that she
+worshipped the ground the fellow trod on. And he was a cad--confound
+him!--one of those light-hearted gentry who dance with girls and make
+love to them, and then boast of their conquests. But he had a way with
+him, and she never cared for anyone again. She has told me so again and
+again in her tantrums.'
+
+'My poor fellow,' returned Michael pityingly, 'you may at least be easy
+on one point. Mrs. Blake--or Mrs. O'Brien, as I suppose we must call
+her--has certainly led an exemplary life since she left you, devoting
+herself to her children, and especially to her eldest son.'
+
+Mat made no answer. His brief excitement had faded, and he now resumed
+his old dejection of manner. He leant his head on his hand again and
+looked into the fire; but by and by he roused himself from his
+abstraction.
+
+'Cyril has grown up a fine, handsome fellow, I hear. I suppose he has
+Olive's good looks?'
+
+'He is very like her, certainly. He is a good-looking man, and
+exceedingly clever. Any father might feel proud of such a son.'
+
+'And he is to marry the young lady I saw here the other day. I forget
+her name, but she is the daughter of the chief boss down here.'
+
+Michael gave a faint shudder.
+
+'Her name is Miss Ross.'
+
+'Oh yes, I remember now. Tom says the marriage will be broken off; but
+we will talk of that presently. I want to hear something about the other
+little chap--Kester.'
+
+'He has not got his brother's good health, I am sorry to say.' And here
+Michael gave a short sketch of Kester's boyish accident, and the results
+that followed. 'He can walk very fairly now,' he continued, 'and will
+soon lay aside his crutch; but I fear he will never make a strong man.'
+
+'Dear, dear!' returned Mat in a sorrowful tone. 'And to think of the
+active little monkey he used to be! Why, I can see him now, mounted
+aloft on my shoulder and holding me round the neck till I was fairly
+choked, and the other lad clasping me round the knee, and hallooing out
+that he wanted to ride dada, too, though Olive never seemed to care to
+see me play with them--we made so much noise, she said. Dear, dear! and
+to think of the poor chap on crutches! And there is Mollie, too; she was
+only a baby when I saw her last--such a fat, rosy little thing!'
+
+'Mollie is a fine-grown girl, and as nice a child as you would wish to
+see. We are all very fond of her.'
+
+'Well, she has kept her word, and done her duty to them. And now look
+here, sir. You just bring me somewhere where I can see the youngsters,
+and hear them talk, and I will promise you to keep dark, and not let out
+to them that I am their father. I will just have a look at them, and
+then I will never trouble them again.'
+
+'What on earth do you mean, O'Brien?'
+
+'I mean that Olive is right, and that they are better without me,'
+returned Mat dejectedly. 'Do you suppose they would have any love in
+their hearts for a father who could only bring disgrace on them? No,
+sir; I am not going to stand in their light and spoil their lives for
+them. I have given them up to Olive, and she seems to have done her best
+for them. Let the youngster have his sweetheart, and I will just bide
+here quietly with Tom; or, if you think that Brail is too near, I will
+put the seas between us again; and you can tell Olive so, if you like.'
+
+'I shall tell her nothing of the kind, O'Brien,' returned Michael, much
+touched at this generosity on the part of the poor prodigal. 'I will not
+deny that this is the very thing she suggested; she even begged me to
+propose this to you, but I refused. Do you suppose that either I or my
+cousin, Dr. Ross, would connive at such deceit and falsehood? It is
+quite true that Mrs. Blake and her children may refuse to have anything
+to do with you, but that is solely their affair. In a few hours, Mr.
+O'Brien, your eldest son will be made aware of his father's existence.'
+
+'I am sorry to hear it, sir,' returned Mat, in a weak, hopeless voice.
+'You will make a great mistake, and nothing good will come of it. She
+will teach the youngsters to loathe my very name, and as for the
+lad'--here he spoke with strong emotion--'he will be ready to curse me
+for spoiling his life. No, no, sir; let sleeping dogs lie. Better let me
+keep dark, and bring trouble to no one.'
+
+But Michael shook his head. Such double-dealing and deceit could only
+deepen the mischief.
+
+'Dr. Ross will never give his sanction to his daughter's marriage; he
+has assured me so most solemnly. Whatever trouble comes will be of your
+wife's causing.'
+
+But Mat would not agree to this.
+
+'She meant no harm, sir. Olive always had curious ideas of right and
+wrong, and she did her best for the youngsters. According to your
+account, she has brought them up well, and sent the lad to Oxford. Fancy
+a son of mine being such a swell, and engaged to that young lady, too!
+Lord! when I think of it, I am ready to wish I had never left the bush.'
+
+'It is no use wishing that now, Mr. O'Brien.'
+
+'No, sir; and it is no use talking over what can't be mended. If you
+have made up your mind to tell the lad, it is pretty plain that I can't
+hinder you; but I will not lift a finger to help you. I will just stop
+where I am.'
+
+'I think perhaps that will be best under the circumstances.'
+
+'But, all the same, it makes me uncommon restless to feel that Olive and
+the youngsters are only three miles off, and I can't get at them. Put
+yourself in my place, sir, and you would not find it very pleasant. And
+there's Tom, too--with all his fine-hearted Christianity--vowing
+vengeance on Olive, and threatening to turn her away from the door if
+she ever dares to show her face here.'
+
+'I do not think that she will ever molest you or your brother.'
+
+'I am quite of your opinion, Captain. Olive will give me a pretty wide
+berth, unless it is her interest to see me; and then all Tom's rough
+speeches wouldn't turn her from her purpose. For tenacity and getting
+her own way, I'd back her against any woman.'
+
+'Well, as you say, there is nothing to be gained by talking.' returned
+Michael, rising from his chair; but at this moment Mr. O'Brien entered.
+
+'I hope I am not interrupting you, Captain; but it is getting late, and
+I was thinking you would take a snack with us. The women are dishing up
+the dinner--just a baked shoulder of mutton and potatoes under it. We
+are plain folk, but Prissy and I will be glad and proud if you will join
+us, sir;' and, after a moment's hesitation, Michael consented.
+
+He had had no idea how late it was; they would already be sitting down
+to luncheon at Woodcote. It would be better for him to take some food
+before he set out on his cold drive home.
+
+'If you will allow me to leave you directly afterwards,' he observed;
+and, as Mat left the room that moment, he took the opportunity to give
+Mr. O'Brien a brief _resume_ of the conversation.
+
+'He begged me to keep it all dark,' he finished; 'he is thinking more of
+his children than himself. But I told him that such a course would be
+impossible.'
+
+'And you spoke the truth, sir; and no good would come of such
+crookedness. But Mat meant well; the lad has a good heart, and I do not
+doubt he has a sore conscience when he thinks of all the evil he has
+wrought. Leave him with me, sir; I can manage him best. There, I hear
+Prissy calling to us, and we will just take our places.'
+
+Michael felt faint and weary, and the homely viands seemed very
+palatable to him; but he noticed how Matthew O'Brien's want of appetite
+seemed to distress his brother.
+
+'You are eating nought, lad,' he kept saying at intervals, and once he
+bade Prissy fetch the remains of a meat pie that Mat had enjoyed the
+previous days; 'maybe he will find it more toothsome,' he said in his
+hearty way; but Mat would have nothing to say to it.
+
+'You let me be, Tom,' he said at last; 'a man has not always got stomach
+for his food. The Captain has taken away my appetite with his talk, and
+the sight of the meat makes me sick;' and then he got up from the table,
+and they saw him pacing up and down the garden with his pipe.
+
+Michael got away as soon as possible, and Mr. O'Brien walked with him to
+the inn. When the dogcart was brought out, he shook his hand very
+heartily.
+
+'Let me know how things go on, Captain, and God bless you!' and then, as
+though by an afterthought: 'If the girl gives you trouble, send her to
+me, and I will just talk the sense into her.' And then he stood in the
+road and watched until the dogcart and driver were out of sight.
+
+Afternoon work had begun as Michael entered Woodcote, but he found Dr.
+Ross alone in the study.
+
+'I have only a few minutes to give you, Michael,' he said, looking up
+from the letter he was writing; 'I expected you back at least two hours
+ago.' Then Michael gave him a concise account of his interview with the
+brothers.
+
+'Thomas O'Brien is a grand old fellow,' he said enthusiastically; 'you
+should have heard him talk, Dr. Ross; and as for poor Mat, he has the
+makings of a good fellow about him, too, only the devil somehow spoilt
+the batch. Would you believe it?--the poor beggar wanted to efface
+himself--to clear out altogether for the sake of the youngsters, as he
+called them. He was not very polished in his language, but what can you
+expect? Still, he meant well.'
+
+'I daresay he did,' returned the Doctor with a sigh; 'you had better
+keep that paper to show Cyril. I must send you away now, as Carter and
+the other boys are coming to me. I will see you later on.'
+
+And then Michael took himself off. He could hear Audrey's voice as he
+passed the door of her sitting-room; Mollie was with her. A few minutes
+later, as he stood at his window wondering what he should do with
+himself, he saw her walk down the terrace towards the gate with Mollie
+hanging on her arm; they seemed laughing and talking. 'How long will she
+wear that bright face?' he said to himself as he threw himself into his
+easy-chair and took up the paper.
+
+He had just fallen into a doze, with Booty stretched on the softest of
+rugs at his feet, when there was a light tap at his door, and to his
+surprise and discomposure Cyril Blake entered the room.
+
+The visit was so wholly unexpected that Michael stared at him for a
+moment without speaking. Cyril had never come to his private
+sitting-room before without a special invitation.
+
+'I must apologise for this intrusion, Captain Burnett,' began Cyril
+quickly; 'but I wanted to speak to you particularly. Were you asleep? I
+am so sorry if I have disturbed you.'
+
+'No, nonsense. I only felt drowsy because I have been out in this cold
+wind and the room is so warm. Take a chair, Blake. I shall be wide awake
+in a moment. Have you seen the paper to-day? There is nothing in it,
+only a remarkably stupid article on Bismarck.'
+
+'I will look at it by and by; but to tell you the truth, I have come to
+speak to you about my mother. I am seriously uneasy about her: either
+she is ill, or there is something grievously wrong. I understood from
+Mollie that you were with her for more than an hour yesterday; in fact,
+that she sent for you.'
+
+The fire had burnt hollow during Michael's brief nap, and he seized this
+opportunity to stir it vigorously into a blaze; it afforded him a
+momentary respite. A few seconds' reflection convinced him, however,
+that it was no use beating about the bush with a man of Cyril's calibre.
+The truth had to be told, and no amount of preparation would render it
+palatable.
+
+'You are right,' he returned quietly; 'Mrs. Blake sent for me. She
+thought that I should be able to help her in a difficulty.'
+
+Cyril looked intensely surprised. 'I thought Mollie must have made a
+mistake. It seems very strange that my mother----'
+
+He stopped as though civility did not permit him to finish his sentence.
+But Michael perfectly understood him.
+
+'It seems strange to you; of course it does. My acquaintance with Mrs.
+Blake is so slight that it certainly gives me no right to her
+confidence; but she was in trouble--in great trouble, I may say--and
+chance threw me in her way, and so----'
+
+But here Cyril interrupted him.
+
+'My mother in trouble!' he returned incredulously, but Michael thought
+he looked a little pale; 'excuse me, Captain Burnett, if I seem rude,
+but from a boy I have been my mother's friend. She has never kept
+anything from me. I find it almost impossible to believe that she would
+give that confidence to a comparative stranger which she would refuse to
+her son. May I beg you to speak plainly? I abhor mysteries.'
+
+Cyril spoke impatiently and curtly; his tone was almost displeased. But
+Michael took no offence; he regarded the young man very kindly.
+
+'I abhor them too,' he replied gravely; 'but I want you to understand
+one thing: it was a mere chance that brought me in Mrs. Blake's way at a
+moment when she needed assistance; I was only like any other stranger
+who sees a lady in difficulty. Now I have told you this I can speak more
+plainly.'
+
+'I wish to heavens you would!' returned Cyril with growing excitement.
+'Do you know the impression you are giving me?--that there is some
+mysterious confidence between you and my mother. Is it too much to ask
+if I may know what this difficulty and trouble mean?'
+
+'No, Blake; you shall know all in good time,' replied Michael, with
+disarming gentleness. 'If I do not speak out at once, it is because I
+fear to give you too great a shock.'
+
+'Too great a shock?'
+
+'Yes. Your mother, out of mistaken kindness, has kept her children in
+ignorance all these years that they have a father living. He was not a
+father of whom they could be proud, and she tried to keep the fact of
+his existence from them.'
+
+'Wait a moment!' exclaimed Cyril. The poor fellow had turned very white.
+'I must take this in. What are you telling me, Burnett? That my
+mother--my widowed mother--has a husband living?'
+
+'I am telling you the truth. Are you ready to hear me say more? I will
+wait any time you like; but it is a long story, and a sad one. Your
+mother has left me to tell it.'
+
+'Go on! Let me hear every word! Hide nothing--nothing!'
+
+Cyril spoke in a dull, stifled voice, as though he felt choking. When
+Michael began to speak, very slowly and quietly, he almost turned his
+back to him; and as the story proceeded, Michael noticed how he clutched
+the carved arms of his chair; but he did not once see his face. Michael
+afterwards owned that telling that miserable story to Olive O'Brien's
+son was one of the toughest jobs he had ever done in his life. But he
+had no idea how well he did it: there was not an unnecessary word. With
+the utmost care he strove to shield the woman, and to show her conduct
+in the best light. 'It was for her children's sake she did it,' he said
+again and again; but there was no answering word from Cyril; if he had
+been turned to stone, his position could not have been more rigid.
+
+'Have you understood me, Blake? My poor, dear fellow, if you knew how
+sorry Dr. Ross and I are for you----'
+
+Then, as Michael mentioned Dr. Ross's name, Cyril seemed galvanised into
+sudden life.
+
+'He knows! he knows! For God's sake give me air!' But before Michael
+could cross the room, Cyril had stumbled to the window and flung it up,
+and stood there, with the bitter east wind blowing on his face, as
+though it were a refreshing summer breeze.
+
+The chill air made Michael shiver; but he knew by experience how
+intolerable was that sense of suffocation, and he stood by patiently
+until that deadly feeling had passed.
+
+'Are you better now, Blake? My poor fellow, can you sit down and speak
+to me?'
+
+Then Cyril turned his face towards him, and Michael was shocked to see
+how strained and haggard it looked.
+
+'Does she know, too?'
+
+'Not yet; her father will tell her.'
+
+Then the poor boy shuddered from head to foot.
+
+'They will make her give me up! O my God! how can I bear it? Burnett, I
+think I shall go mad! Tell me it is not true--that my mother has not
+lied to me all these years!'
+
+'At least, she has lied for her son's sake.' But he knew how futile were
+his words, as he saw the bitter contempt in Cyril's honest eyes.
+
+'I will never forgive her! She has ruined my life! she has made me wish
+that I were dead! I will never, never----'
+
+But Michael interrupted him somewhat sternly:
+
+'Hush! hush! You do not know what you are saying. She is your mother,
+Blake--nothing can alter that fact.'
+
+'She has deceived us all! No, I will not speak; nothing can make it
+better or worse. If I lose Audrey, I do not care what becomes of me!'
+
+Michael looked at him pityingly.
+
+'Do you think you ought to marry her, Blake!'
+
+Then Cyril flung away from him with a groan; even in his misery he
+understood that appeal to his generosity. But he put it from him: he was
+too much stunned, too dazed altogether, to follow out any train of
+reasoning. In a vague sort of way he understood two facts: that he and
+Kester and Mollie were disgraced, and that his mother--the mother whom
+he adored--had deceived him. Beyond this he could not go. The human mind
+has limits.
+
+Afterwards, in the chill hour of darkness and solitude, Michael's words
+would come back to him: 'Do you think you ought to marry her, Blake? Do
+you think you ought to marry her?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+'I SHALL NEVER BE FREE'
+
+     'But there are true hearts which the sight
+       Of sorrow summons forth;
+     Though known in days of past delight,
+       We know not half their worth.'
+
+                                       BAYLY.
+
+
+The words escaped from Michael almost unconsciously; he hardly knew that
+he spoke them aloud; but in his inner consciousness he had no doubt at
+all of the course that ought to be pursued. If he had been in Cyril's
+place he would not have hesitated for a moment. Dearly as he loved
+Audrey--and what that love was only he himself knew--he would have
+refused to marry her. He would have separated himself from her utterly,
+and at once.
+
+Michael's strong, long-suffering nature would have carried him nobly
+through such an ordeal. He was a man who would have acted up to the
+spirit of the Gospel command 'to pluck out the offending eye, or to cut
+off the right hand;' there would have been no parleying, no weak
+dalliance with temptation.
+
+'I love you, but it is my duty to leave you, so farewell for
+ever!'--that is what he would have said to her, knowing all the time
+that life would be utterly joyless to him. Would Cyril, in his hot,
+untried youth, be capable of a like generosity, or would he cleave to
+his betrothed with passionate, one-sided fealty, vowing that nothing on
+earth should separate them as long as they two loved each other?
+
+'They will make her give me up!'--that was all he had said. That seemed
+to be the one deadly terror that assailed him.
+
+Cyril had turned away with a groan when Michael spoke, but he made no
+audible answer, and the next moment his hand was on the door.
+
+'Where are you going, Blake?' inquired Michael anxiously.
+
+It was impossible to keep him, and yet, how could he let him leave him
+in such a condition?
+
+'I must get away from here!' returned Cyril hoarsely. 'I must be alone
+somewhere.'
+
+And Michael understood him.
+
+'Let me at least walk with you,' he returned quickly. 'You might meet
+someone, and perhaps I may be of use. Do not refuse; I will not speak to
+you.' And, as Cyril made no objection--indeed, it was doubtful whether
+he even heard what Michael said--he followed him downstairs.
+
+Just as they reached the hall the drawing-room door opened, and, before
+he could warn Cyril, Audrey came out. She had some music in her hand.
+She uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure when she saw them.
+
+'Michael, I thought you were lost. What have you been doing with
+yourself all day? Were you going out with Cyril? Please don't go just
+yet; it is just beginning to rain, and I want him to practise this duet
+with me. Will you?' looking up in Cyril's face with one of her bright
+smiles.
+
+'I cannot; another time. Please do not keep me!'
+
+Cyril hardly knew what he said. He pushed by her as she stood there
+smiling, with the music in her hand, and went out bareheaded into the
+rain and darkness.
+
+Audrey looked bewildered.
+
+'What does he mean? Is he ill? has anything happened? He is so white,
+and he has forgotten his hat! He has never left me like this before. Oh,
+Michael, do call him back; I must speak to him!'
+
+'I cannot. I think something is troubling him. Let me go, Audrey; he
+will tell you everything by and by.' And Michael snatched up his hat and
+Cyril's, and hurried after him as fast as his halting gait permitted.
+
+Cyril had not gone far; he was standing by the gate quite motionless,
+and his hair and face were wet with the heavy rain. Michael took him by
+the arm and walked on with him; he must see him safely to his room, and
+charge Mrs. Blake not to go near him.
+
+'He must have time; he is simply stunned and incapable of thought now,'
+he said to himself, as he piloted him through the dark, wet streets.
+
+Biddy admitted them. She gave them a searching glance as they entered.
+Cyril's disordered condition must have told her everything, for she put
+her wrinkled, claw-like hand on his arm with a warning gesture.
+
+'Don't let the mistress see you like that, Mr. Cyril avick, or you'll
+fright her to death. Go up softly, or she will hear you.'
+
+But Biddy's warning was in vain. The staircase was badly lighted, and
+Michael made a false, stumbling step. The next moment Mrs. Blake came
+out on the landing. The sight of the two men together seemed to transfix
+her with horror.
+
+'You have told him!--oh, heavens! you have told him!' she cried, in a
+despairing voice.
+
+Cyril raised his heavy eyes and looked at her, but he did not speak; he
+passed her as he had passed Audrey, and went up to his room, and they
+heard the door close heavily behind him.
+
+'I will go to him! How dare you detain me, Captain Burnett? I will go to
+my son!'
+
+But Michael took no notice of this angry remonstrance; his hand was on
+her arm, and very gently, but firmly, he made her enter the
+drawing-room.
+
+'Mrs. Blake, will you listen to me for a moment?'
+
+'No, I will not listen!' she answered passionately, and her bosom began
+to heave. 'I will go to him and make him speak to me. Did you see how he
+looked at me--his mother--as he has never looked at me in his life?' And
+the unhappy woman broke into tears and sobs. 'Oh, my boy! my boy! Let me
+go to him, Captain Burnett, and I will bless you as long as I live; let
+me go and kneel to him, if I must. Do you think my boy will see his
+mother at his feet and not forgive her?'
+
+'He will forgive you, Mrs. Blake,' returned Michael, in a pitying voice;
+'but you must give him time. He cannot speak to you now--he can speak to
+no one; he is simply stunned. Give me your promise that you will not see
+him to-night.'
+
+'Impossible! I will make no such promise. He is my son, not yours. If he
+cannot speak to me, I can at least take his hand and tell him that I am
+sorry.'
+
+'He will not be able to hear you. As far as I can tell, he has taken
+nothing in; the news has simply crushed him. If you will give him time,
+he will pull himself together; but I would not answer for the
+consequences if you persist in seeing him to-night. He is not himself.
+There would be words said that ought never to be uttered. Mrs. Blake, do
+be persuaded. I am speaking for your sake as well as his.'
+
+'You are always so hard,' she moaned.
+
+But from her manner he thought she would not disobey him; he had managed
+to frighten her.
+
+'You will be wise if you take my advice,' he returned, moving away from
+the door. 'I am going to him now, but I shall not stay; it is, above all
+things, necessary that he should be alone.'
+
+'Will you speak to him for me? Will you tell him that my heart is nearly
+broken with that cold, reproachful look of his? Will you at least say
+this, Captain Burnett?'
+
+'I think it would be better not to mention your name to him to-night.'
+
+Then she threw herself back on the couch in a hysterical outburst.
+
+Michael thought it useless to stay with her. He found Biddy outside as
+usual, and sent her in to do her best for her mistress; and then he went
+up to Cyril's room. He found him sitting on the edge of his bed; the
+window was wide open, and the rain was driving in, and had already
+wetted the carpet; a candle someone had lighted was guttering in the
+draught. Michael closed the window, and then he looked at the fireplace.
+There was plenty of fuel at hand. Cyril often worked in his own room,
+and now and then his mother's care had provided him with a fire. The
+room felt cold and damp. There were matches at hand, and Michael had no
+scruple in lighting a fire now; the crackle of wood seemed to rouse
+Cyril.
+
+'Why do you do that? there is no need,' he said irritably.
+
+'Pardon me, there is every need. Do you know your coat is wet, Blake?
+You must change it at once.'
+
+But Cyril only gave an impatient shrug.
+
+'Will you let me see you change it before I go?' he persisted, and he
+actually had his way, perhaps because Cyril was anxious to get rid of
+him. 'Now I am going; I only want to say one word, Blake: you will be
+safe to-night, your mother will not come near you.' Then a look of
+relief crossed Cyril's wan face. 'You shall, at least, have peace for a
+few hours. If I can help you in any way, you have only to speak. Will
+you remember that?'
+
+'Thank you.'
+
+'I mean it. There, that is all I have got to say. God bless you!' and
+as he grasped Cyril's hand there was a faint response.
+
+Michael crept down as softly as he could. As he passed the drawing-room
+door he could hear Mrs. Blake's hysterical sobs, and Biddy soothing her.
+'The Nemesis has come,' he said to himself; and then he went into the
+lower room, where he found Mollie and Kester reading over the fire.
+
+'Don't let me disturb you,' he said hurriedly, as they both sprang up to
+greet him; 'Mollie, your brother wishes to be quiet to-night. He has
+just heard something that troubles him a good deal, and he has desired
+that no one should go near him. If I were you, I should take no notice
+at all.'
+
+'But what are we to do about supper?' returned Mollie with housewifely
+anxiety; 'we have such a nice supper, and Cyril will be so cold and
+hungry shut up in his room. We have made such a big fire, because he was
+going to spend the evening with us.'
+
+'He has a fire, too; he was very wet, and the room felt damp, so I
+lighted it. You might take up a tray to him presently and put it outside
+his door, and perhaps a cup of nice hot coffee.'
+
+'Ah! I will go and make it at once, and mamma shall have some, too.' And
+Mollie ran off in her usual impetuous manner, but Kester sat still in
+his place.
+
+'What is the matter, Captain Burnett?' he asked anxiously; 'we heard
+mother crying just now, and saying that Cyril would not speak to her.
+Mollie heard it quite plainly, and so did I.'
+
+'You shall know all in good time, my dear boy,' returned Michael, laying
+his hand on Kester's shoulder; 'do not ask me any more just now.'
+
+Kester looked at him wistfully, but he was trained to self-discipline,
+and he asked no more; and Michael went back to Woodcote.
+
+It was just dinner-time, and the gong sounded before he was ready; but
+he made some easy excuse and slipped into his place, and began to talk
+to Dr. Ross about the new swimming-baths that were being built. It was
+the first topic that came handy to him, and Dr. Ross at once followed
+his lead; the subject lasted them until the end of dinner. Audrey was
+unusually silent, but neither of them made any remark on her gravity.
+Now and then Michael addressed some observation to her, but she answered
+him briefly and without interest.
+
+They went into the schoolroom for prayers as usual, and Audrey played
+the harmonium; but as he was following Mrs. Ross back into the
+drawing-room, Audrey tapped him on the arm.
+
+'Don't go in there just yet, Michael; I want to speak to you.'
+
+Then he suffered himself very reluctantly to be detained by the hall
+fire.
+
+'Michael,' she began, in rather a peremptory tone, 'I cannot understand
+either you or Cyril to-night. You are both very strange, I think. Cyril
+leaves me without a word, and goes out looking like a ghost, and you
+tell me that something is troubling him, and yet neither of you
+vouchsafes me one word of explanation.'
+
+'I cannot help it, Audrey; it is not my affair. Blake was in a hurry;
+you must have seen that for yourself.'
+
+'He was very extraordinary in his behaviour, and so were you. Of course,
+if you don't choose to answer me, Michael, I will just send a note
+across to Cyril, and tell him I must see him at once.'
+
+'I should hardly do that, if I were you.'
+
+'Not write to him!' in an offended voice. 'Really, Michael, you are too
+mysterious; why, this borders on absurdity! Cyril is in trouble--in one
+breath you tell me that--and then you would prevent my writing to ask
+him to come to me! I shall certainly write to him.'
+
+'Will you go to your father instead? He has just gone into the study.'
+
+Then Audrey looked at him with intense astonishment.
+
+'What has my father got to do with it?'
+
+'Never mind all that,' returned Michael slowly. 'Go to Dr. Ross, and ask
+him why Blake is in trouble. He will tell you; you may take my word for
+it.'
+
+Audrey still gazed at him; but Michael's grave manner left her in no
+doubt as to the seriousness of the matter, and her eyes looked a little
+troubled.
+
+'Go, dear,' he repeated gently; 'it will be best for you to hear it from
+him.'
+
+Then she left him without another word, and went straight to the study.
+
+It seemed as though her father expected her, for he looked at her as she
+came slowly towards him, and put out his hand.
+
+'You have come to talk to me, my darling. Sit down beside me. No, not
+that chair; it is too far off. Come closer to me, my child.'
+
+Then, as Audrey obeyed him, she felt a sense of growing uneasiness. What
+did that sorrowful tenderness in her father's voice mean? For the moment
+her courage failed her, and her lips could not frame the question she
+had come to ask.
+
+'You want me to tell you about Cyril's trouble?'
+
+Then she sat and gazed at him in speechless dread.
+
+Dr. Ross cleared his throat and shifted his spectacles. He began to find
+his task difficult.
+
+'If I only knew how to prepare you, Audrey! But I can think of no words
+that will break the force of such a shock. I will tell you one thing: a
+few hours ago Cyril was as ignorant of the great trouble that has
+befallen him as you are at this present moment.'
+
+She touched him with a hand that had grown suddenly very cold.
+
+'Wait for one minute, father; I must ask you something: Did Michael tell
+this thing to Cyril this afternoon?'
+
+'Yes, dear. By some strange chance Michael was put in possession of a
+terrible secret. There was no one else to break it to the poor fellow,
+and, as you and I know, Mike is not the man to shirk any unpleasant
+duty.'
+
+'I understand. You may go on now, father dear; I am prepared--I am quite
+prepared. I know it was no light trouble that brought that look on
+Cyril's face; and Michael, too, was very strange and unlike himself.'
+And then she composed herself to listen.
+
+Dr. Ross told the story as carefully as he could, but he made no attempt
+to soften facts. A skilful surgeon cuts deep: the patient may quiver
+under the relentless knife, but the present pain will prevent lasting
+injury. Dr. Ross wished his daughter to see things from his point of
+view. It was impossible to spare her suffering; but she was young, and
+he hoped time and her own strong sense of duty would bring their own
+healing. He could not judge of the effect on her. Almost at his first
+words she had dropped her head upon his knees, and her face was hidden
+from him; and though his hand rested on her soft hair, she made no sign
+or movement.
+
+'That is all I have to tell you, my darling. No one knows but you and I
+and Michael. I have not told your mother; I thought it best to wait.'
+Then she stirred a little uneasily under his caressing hand. 'My own
+child, you do not need to be told how I grieve for you and Cyril; it is
+a bitter disappointment to you both; but--but'--his voice dropped a
+little--'you must give him up.'
+
+There was no perceptible start; only, as he said this, Audrey raised her
+face from his knee, and looked at him. She was very pale, but her eyes
+were quite dry; only the firm, beautiful lips trembled a little.
+
+'I do not understand, father. Why must I give him up?'
+
+'Why?' Dr. Ross could hardly believe his ears as he heard this. 'My
+child,' he said, with a touch of sternness, 'it is very easy to
+understand. Cyril is not to blame--he is as innocent as you are; but the
+son of Matthew O'Brien can never be my son-in-law.'
+
+'No,' she returned slowly, 'I suppose not. I ought not to be surprised
+to hear you say that.'
+
+'It is what any father would say, Audrey.'
+
+'Anyhow, it is for you to say it, if you think it right, and it is for
+me to obey you.'
+
+Then he put his arm round her with an endearing word or two. She was his
+good, obedient child--his dearly-loved daughter, who had never grieved
+him in her life.
+
+'I trust I may never grieve you,' she replied gently; but there was a
+great solemnity in her eyes. 'Father, if you tell me that I must not
+marry Cyril, I shall be compelled to obey you; but it will break my
+heart to think that your mind is fully made up on this point.'
+
+'My darling, you are both very young, and in time----' He stopped,
+arrested by the strangeness of her look.
+
+'You think that we shall get over it: that is your meaning, is it not?
+But I am afraid you are wrong. Cyril loves me too well; he would never
+get over it.'
+
+'But, my dear----'
+
+'Father, will you listen to me for a moment? You need not fear that I
+should ever disobey you--you are my father, and that is enough. But I
+shall live in the hope that you will change your mind.'
+
+'My child, I must forbid that hope. I cannot let you cheat yourself with
+any such false supposition. My mind will know no change in this matter.'
+
+'Then, in that case, I shall never marry Cyril. If you cannot give me
+your blessing on my marriage, I will remain as I am--Audrey Ross. But,
+father, I shall never give him up! Never--never!'
+
+'If Cyril be the man I think him, he will give you up, Audrey; he will
+be far too proud and honourable to hold you to your engagement.'
+
+'That may be,' she answered a little wearily. 'I know the strong
+pressure that will be put on him. You will have no difficulty with him;
+he will do as you wish. My poor Cyril! how can he do otherwise? But all
+the same, I shall be true to him as long as he and I live. I shall feel
+that I belong to him.'
+
+'But, my darling, do be sensible. When the engagement is broken off you
+will be free, utterly free.'
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+'I shall never be free while Cyril lives. Father, you do not understand.
+He may set me free to-morrow, but I shall still consider myself bound.
+When he comes here, I shall tell him so, and I do not think he will
+misunderstand me.'
+
+Dr. Ross sighed. Here was an unexpected difficulty. She would obey him,
+but she would regard herself as the victim of filial obedience. She
+would not marry her lover without his consent, but she would have
+nothing to say to any other man. She would consider herself fettered by
+this hopeless betrothal. He had declined to accept the son of Matthew
+O'Brien as his son-in-law; but would not his own death set her free to
+fulfil her engagement? Dr. Ross groaned within himself as he thought of
+this. If only he could bring her to reason; but at his first word of
+pleading her eyes filled with tears.
+
+'Father, I can bear no more; you have made me very unhappy. I have
+promised not to marry without your consent; but no one on earth could
+make me give him up.'
+
+Then he looked at her very sorrowfully, and said no more. If she had
+thrown herself into his arms he could almost have wept with her. Would
+she ever know how his heart bled for her? But she only kissed him very
+quietly.
+
+'You are not angry with me, father?'
+
+'Angry with you? Oh, Audrey, my child, how can you ask such a question?'
+
+'That is well,' she returned calmly. 'There must never be anything
+between us. I could not bear that.' Then her breast heaved a little, and
+a large tear stole down her face. 'Will you tell mother and Michael what
+I have said--that I will never give him up?'
+
+And then she walked very slowly out of the room.
+
+Half an hour later Michael came into the study. He did not speak; but
+the Doctor shook his head as he came silently towards him.
+
+'It is a bad business, Mike. That girl of mine will give us trouble. She
+is as good as gold, but she will give us trouble.'
+
+'She refuses to give him up?'
+
+Michael sat down as he asked the question; his strength seemed to have
+deserted him.
+
+'That is what she says--that she will regard herself as altogether bound
+to him. She is very firm. With all her goodness and sweetness, Audrey
+has a strong will.'
+
+'Do you mean that she will still marry him?'
+
+'Not unless I will give my consent. No, Mike; she is a dutiful child.
+She will never give herself to any man without her parents' blessing and
+approval; but she will not marry anyone else.'
+
+Then there was a curious fixed look on Michael's face.
+
+'I am not surprised, Dr. Ross. Audrey is too generous to forsake any man
+when he is in trouble. She will not think of herself--she never does;
+her whole heart will be set on the thought of giving him comfort. You
+must not try to change her resolution. It would be useless.'
+
+'The deuce take it all!' returned the Doctor irritably. 'For there will
+be no peace of mind for any of us, Mike.' But Dr. Ross's voice was
+hardly as clear as usual. 'I suppose I must just go and have it all out
+with Emmie--there is nothing like getting an unpleasant job over; she
+and Geraldine can put their heads together, but they had better keep
+Harcourt away from me.'
+
+And the Doctor stalked out of the room with an unwonted gloom on his
+genial face.
+
+Michael did not follow him. He sat still for a few minutes looking at
+the Doctor's empty chair.
+
+'I knew it; I could have said it. Audrey is just that sort of woman. She
+will never give him up--whether she loves him or not--as long as she
+feels he needs her. Poor Blake! poor fellow! Of the two, I hardly think
+he is the one to be pitied; but she will never find that out for
+herself. Never, never!'
+
+And then Booty scratched and whined at the door, and he got up and let
+him in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+'WHO WILL COMFORT HIM?'
+
+     'Earth has nothing more tender than a woman's heart, when it is the
+     abode of piety.'--LUTHER.
+
+
+Dr. Ross had deferred telling his wife for more than one reason: he
+dreaded the effect on her emotional nature, and, above all things, he
+hated a scene. But for once he was agreeably disappointed. Mrs. Ross
+received the news more quietly than he expected; the very suddenness and
+force of the shock made her summon up all her womanly fortitude to bear
+such an overwhelming misfortune. Her first thought was for Audrey, and
+she would have gone to her at once; but her husband gently detained her.
+
+'Give her time, Emmie; she has only just left me, and she will not be
+ready even for her mother. Sit down again, my dear; I cannot spare you
+yet.' And Mrs. Ross very reluctantly took her seat again on the couch.
+
+They talked a little more, and Mrs. Ross wept as she thought of that
+poor dear boy, as she called him; for Cyril had grown very dear to her,
+and she had begun to look on him as her own son. But it seemed as though
+the whole vial of her wrath was to be emptied on the head of Mrs. Blake.
+At any other time, and in different circumstances, Dr. Ross would have
+been amused at the scathing invectives that were uttered by his
+sweet-tempered wife.
+
+'But, my dear Emmie, you must consider her provocations. Think of a
+woman being tied to a feckless ne'er-do-well like Matthew O'Brien!'
+
+'Don't talk to me, John; I will not listen to you. Was she not his
+wedded wife, and the mother of his children? Had she not vowed to be
+faithful to him for better and for worse?'
+
+'Yes, my dear; but you must allow it was for worse.'
+
+'That may be; but she was bound to him all the same by her wifely duty.
+She might have saved him, but instead of that she has been his ruin. How
+dare any woman rob her husband of his own children, and forbid him to
+lay claim to them? She is a false, perjured wife!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross,
+with rising excitement.
+
+'My dear, I am not defending her; but at least she is to be pitied now.'
+
+'I do not think so. It is Cyril and Kester and Mollie who are to be
+pitied, for having such parents. My heart bleeds for them, but not for
+her. What will become of them all? How will that poor boy bear his
+life?'
+
+'I do not know. But, Emmie, tell me one thing--you agree with me that
+Audrey must not marry him?'
+
+'Of course she must not marry him! What would Geraldine and Percival
+say?'
+
+Then the Doctor muttered 'Pshaw!'
+
+'Why, his name is not Blake at all. How could a daughter of ours form a
+connection with the O'Briens? My poor Audrey! And now, John, you must
+let me go to her.' And this time Dr. Ross made no objection.
+
+It was nearly midnight by this time, but Audrey had not thought of
+retiring to bed; she was sitting by her toilet-table, with her hands
+folded in her lap. Her mother's appearance seemed to surprise her.
+
+'Dear mother, why have you come? There was no need--no need at all.'
+
+Then, as her mother put her arms round her, she laid her head on her
+shoulder as though she were conscious of sudden weariness. Mrs. Ross's
+eyes were red with weeping, but Audrey's were still quite bright and
+dry.
+
+'Mother dear, you will be so tired!'
+
+'What does that matter? It is your father who is tired; he feels all
+this so terribly. My own darling, what am I to say to you in this awful
+trouble that has come upon you, but to beg you to be brave for all our
+sakes?'
+
+'Yes; and for his, too.'
+
+'If I could only bear it for you--that is what a mother feels when her
+child suffers--if I could only take it from you, and carry it as my own
+burden!'
+
+Then the girl gently pressed her with her arms.
+
+'That is what I feel about him,' she returned, and there was a pained
+look in her eyes as she spoke. 'He is so young, and all this is so
+terrible; his pride will suffer, and his heart, and his mother will be
+no comfort to him. If he only had you!' And then she did break down a
+little, but she soon recovered herself. 'I have been sitting here trying
+to find out why this has been allowed to happen to him. I think there is
+no one so good, except Michael. It is very dreadful!' And here she
+shuddered slightly. 'How will he live out his daily life and not grow
+bitter over it? My poor, poor Cyril!'
+
+'My darling, are you not thinking of yourself at all?'
+
+'Of myself? No, mother. Why should I think of myself? I have you and
+father and Michael--you will all comfort me; but who will comfort him?'
+
+'His Heavenly Father, Audrey.'
+
+'Oh yes, you are right; but do young men think as we do? Cyril is good,
+but he never speaks of these things. He is not like Michael.'
+
+'It was trouble that taught Michael.'
+
+'Yes, I know; but I would fain have spared my poor Cyril such a bitter
+lesson. Mother, I want you to tell them all not to talk to me--I mean
+Michael and Gage and Percival; I could not bear it. As I told father, I
+shall never give him up. If he goes away, I must bid him good-bye; but
+if he will write to me I shall answer his letters.'
+
+'I do not think your father would approve of that, Audrey. My child,
+consider--would it not be better, and more for Cyril's good, that you
+should give him up entirely?'
+
+'No, mother; I do not think so. I believe in my heart that the knowledge
+that I am still true to him will be his only earthly comfort. No one
+knows him as I do; his nature is very intense. He is almost as intense
+as Michael, and that is saying a great deal.'
+
+'My love, will you let your mother say one thing to you?--that I think
+you are making a grievous mistake, and that your father thinks so too.'
+
+'I know it, mother, and it pains me to differ from you both in this; but
+you will never convince me. I plighted my troth to Cyril because I loved
+him dearly, and nothing will change that love. It is quite true,' she
+continued dreamily, as though she were following out some train of
+habitual thought, 'that I have often asked myself if I loved him in the
+same way in which other girls cared for their lovers--as Gage did for
+Percival, for example--if mine were not too quiet and matter-of-fact an
+attachment; and I have never been able to answer myself
+satisfactorily.'
+
+'Have you not, Audrey?'
+
+'No, mother dear; but of course this is in confidence: it must be sacred
+to you and me. I think I am different from most girls. I have never
+wished to be married; and dear as Cyril is to me, the thought of my
+wedding-day has always oppressed me. I have made him unhappy sometimes,
+because he saw that I shrank from it.'
+
+Mrs. Ross felt a quick sense of relief that almost amounted to joy. Was
+Audrey in love with him, after all? She had never heard a girl talk so
+strangely. What an unutterable blessing it would be to them all if she
+were not utterly crushed by her misfortune, and if any future healing
+would be possible; but she was careful not to express this to her
+daughter.
+
+'My experience has been very different,' she answered quietly. 'My
+happiest moments were those in which your dear father spoke of our
+future home. I think I was quite as averse to a long engagement as he
+was.'
+
+'I can believe it, mother dear, but our natures are not alike; but there
+is one thing on which we are agreed, that an engagement is almost as
+binding as marriage; that is,' correcting herself, 'as long as two
+persons love each other.'
+
+'It ought not to be binding under such circumstances, Audrey.'
+
+'Ought it not? Ah, there we differ! With all my want of enthusiasm, my
+absence of sentimentality, I shall hold fast to Cyril. I have never yet
+regarded myself as his wife; I did not wish to so regard myself. But now
+I shall give myself up in thought wholly to him, and I pray God that
+this knowledge will give him comfort.'
+
+Mrs. Ross was silent. She felt that she hardly understood her daughter;
+it was as though she had entered on higher ground, where the wrappings
+of some sacred mist enveloped her. This was not the language of earthly
+passion--this sublime womanly abnegation. It was not even the tender
+language of a Ruth, widowed in her affections, and cleaving with
+bounteous love and faith to the mother of her young Jewish husband,
+'Whither thou goest I will go;' and yet the inward cry of her heart
+seemed to be like that of honest Tom O'Brien: 'The Lord do so unto me,
+and more also, if ought but death part me and thee.'
+
+The one thought wholly possessed her that she might give him comfort.
+
+'My poor, dear child, if I could only make you feel differently!'
+
+Then Audrey laid her hand gently on her mother's lips. It was an old
+habit of hers when she was a child, and too much argument had proved
+wearisome.
+
+'Hush! do not let us talk any more. I am so tired, so tired, mother, and
+I know you are, too.'
+
+'Will you let me stay with you, darling?'
+
+Then Audrey looked at her trim little bed, and then at her mother, and
+smiled.
+
+'There is no room. What can you mean, mother dear? and I am not ill; I
+am never ill, am I?'
+
+'Thank God at least for that; but you are worse than ill--you are
+unhappy, my dear. Will you let me help you to undress, and then sit by
+you until you feel you can sleep?'
+
+But Audrey only shook her head with another smile.
+
+'There is no need. Kiss me, mother, and bid me good-night. I shall like
+to be with my own self in the darkness. There, another kiss; now go, or
+we shall both be frozen;' and Audrey gently pushed her to the door.
+
+'She would not let me stop with her, John!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross, as she
+entered her husband's dressing-room. 'She is very calm: unnaturally so,
+I thought; she hardly cried at all; she is thinking nothing of herself,
+only of him.'
+
+'Do you know it is one o'clock, Emmie?' returned her husband rather
+shortly. He was tired and sore, poor man, and in no mood to hear of his
+daughter's sufferings. 'The deuce take the woman!' he said to himself
+fretfully, as Mrs. Ross meekly turned away without another word; but he
+was certainly not alluding to his wife when he spoke. 'From the days of
+Eve they have always been in some mischief or other'--from which it may
+be deduced that Mrs. Ross was not so far wrong when she thought her
+husband was threatened with gout, only his _malaise_ was more of the
+mind. He was thinking of the interview that awaited him on the morrow.
+'I would as lief cut off my right hand as tell him that he must not have
+Audrey,' he said to himself, as he laid his head on the pillow.
+
+Now, as Michael lay awake through the dark hours revolving many things
+in his uneasy brain, it occurred to him that he would send a note across
+to Cyril as soon as he heard the household stirring, and he carried out
+this resolution in spite of drowsiness and an aching head.
+
+     'MY DEAR BLAKE,' he wrote,
+
+     'Don't bother yourself about early school. I am on the spot, and
+     can easily take your place. You will want to pull yourself
+     together, and under the circumstances the boys would be an awful
+     nuisance. I hope you have got some sleep.
+
+                                      'Yours,
+
+                                           'M. O. BURNETT.'
+
+To this came the following reply, scrawled on a half-sheet of paper:
+
+'Thanks awfully; will accept your offer. Please tell Dr. Ross that I
+will come across to him soon after ten.'
+
+'Poor beggar! he is awake now, and pulling himself together with a
+vengeance. This looks well; now for the grind.'
+
+And Michael went down to the schoolroom and gave Cyril's class their
+divinity lesson with as much coolness and gravity as though his whole
+life had been spent in teaching boys.
+
+Dr. Ross winced slightly as he gave him Cyril's message after breakfast,
+but he said, a moment afterwards: 'I intended sending for him; but I am
+glad he has saved me the trouble--only I wish it were over, Mike.'
+
+Michael shrugged his shoulders with a look of sympathy. He had no time
+to say more; he must take Cyril's place in the schoolroom again, in
+spite of all Booty's shivering solicitations for a walk this fine
+morning. 'Booty, old fellow,' he observed, as he noticed the little
+animal's manifest disappointment, 'you and I are not sent into the world
+to please ourselves; there are "still lame dogs to help over stiles,"
+and a few burdens to shift on our own shoulders. If our head ache, what
+of that, Booty? It will be the same a hundred years hence. Now for Greek
+verbs and general discord, so right about face!' And if Booty did not
+understand this harangue, he certainly acted up to the spirit of it, for
+he pattered cheerfully after his master to the schoolroom, and curled
+himself up into a compact brown ball at his feet, to doze away the
+morning in doggish dreams.
+
+Meanwhile, Dr. Ross made a feint of reading his letters; but he found as
+he laid them down that their contents were hopelessly involved. Was it
+Rawlinson, for example, whom an anxious mother was confiding to his
+care? 'He had the measles last holidays, and has been very delicate ever
+since, and now this severe cold----' Nonsense! It was not Rawlinson, it
+was Jackson minor, and he was all right and had eaten an excellent
+breakfast; but he thought Major Sowerby's letter ought to be answered at
+once. He never allowed parents to break his rules; it was such nonsense
+sending for Charlie home, just because an uncle had come from India. He
+must write and remonstrate; the boy must wait until the term was
+over--it would only be a fortnight. And then he read the letter again
+with growing displeasure, and found that Captain MacDonald was the name
+of the erring parent.
+
+'I will settle all that,' he remarked, as he plunged his pen rather
+savagely into the inkstand; and then a tap at the door made him start,
+and a huge blot was the result. Of course it was Cyril, who was standing
+at the door looking at him.
+
+'Are you disengaged, Dr. Ross?'
+
+'Yes--yes. Come in, my dear fellow, and shut the door.'
+
+And then Dr. Ross jumped up from his seat and grasped the young man's
+hand; but his first thought was, What would Audrey say when she saw him?
+Could one night have effected such a change? There was a wanness, a
+heaviness of aspect, that made him look ten years older. Somehow Dr.
+Ross found it necessary to take off his spectacles and wipe them before
+he commenced the conversation.
+
+'My poor boy, what am I to say to you?'
+
+'Say nothing, sir; it would be far better. I have come----' Here Cyril
+paused; the dryness of his lips seemed to impede his utterance. 'I have
+come to know your wishes.'
+
+'My wishes!' repeated Dr. Ross in a pained voice; and then he put his
+hand on his shoulder: 'Cyril, do not misjudge me, do not think me hard
+if you can help it, but I cannot give you my daughter.'
+
+He had expected that Cyril would have wrenched himself free from his
+detaining hand as he heard him, but to his surprise he remained
+absolutely motionless.
+
+'I know it, Dr. Ross. There was no need to tell me that--nothing would
+induce me to marry her.'
+
+Then the Doctor felt as though he could have embraced him.
+
+'Why should you think so meanly of me,' went on Cyril in the same heavy,
+monotonous voice, as though he were repeating some lesson that he had
+carefully conned and got by heart, 'as to suppose that I should take
+advantage of her promise and yours? If you will let me see her, I will
+tell her so. Do you think I would drag her down to my level--mine?'
+
+'You are acting nobly.'
+
+'I am acting as necessity compels me,' returned Cyril with
+uncontrollable bitterness. 'Do you think I would give her up, even at
+your command, Dr. Ross, if I dared to keep her? But I dare not--I dare
+not!'
+
+'Cyril, for my peace of mind, tell me this one thing--have I ever been
+unjust to you in all our relations together?'
+
+'No, Dr. Ross. I have never met with anything but kindness from you and
+yours.'
+
+'When you came to me five months ago and told me you loved my daughter,
+did I repulse you?'
+
+Then Cyril shook his head.
+
+'But I was very frank with you. I told you even then that I had a right
+to look higher for my son-in-law, but that, as you seemed necessary to
+my girl's happiness, your poverty and lack of influence should not stand
+in your way. When I said this, Cyril, when I stretched out the right
+hand of fellowship to you, I meant every word that I said. I was
+teaching myself to regard you as a son; as far as any man could do such
+a thing, I intended to take your future under my care. In all this I did
+you no wrong.'
+
+'You have never wronged me, sir,' and with a low but distinct emphasis:
+'God forbid that I should wrong either you or her.'
+
+'No! My heart was always full of kindness to you. Young as you
+were--young in years and in work--you had won my entire respect and
+esteem. I thank you, Cyril--I thank you in my own and in my wife's
+name--that I can respect you as highly as ever.'
+
+Dr. Ross's voice faltered with emotion, and the hand that still lay on
+Cyril's shoulder trembled visibly; but there was no answering gleam of
+emotion on the young man's face.
+
+'You mean it kindly, Dr. Ross, but I have not deserved this praise.' He
+spoke coldly, proudly. 'Have I an unsullied name to offer any woman? And
+even if this difficulty could be got over, do I not know that my career
+is over? Would you--would any other man, do you think--employ me as a
+master? I have been facing this question all night, and I know that, as
+far as my worldly prospects are concerned, I am practically ruined.'
+
+'No, no; you must not say that. There are plenty of openings for a
+clever man. You shall have my help. I will employ my influence; I have
+powerful friends. We might find you a secretaryship.'
+
+'I think a clerkship will be more likely,' returned Cyril, in the same
+hard voice, though the pent-up pain threatened to suffocate him. 'I may
+have some difficulty even there; people like their clerks to be
+respectably connected, and when one's father has been in prison----'
+
+But Dr. Ross would not let him proceed.
+
+'My poor boy, your father's sin is not yours. No one can rob you of your
+self-respect and stainless honour. If it were not for Audrey, I might
+even venture to brave public opinion and keep you myself. It might bring
+me into trouble with Charrington, but, as you know, I am my own master.
+I could have talked him over and got him to hush it up, and we could
+have moved your mother to a little distance. Yes, Cyril, I would have
+done it; you should have fought out your battle at my side, if it were
+not for my child.'
+
+'I do not know how to thank you for saying this;' and Cyril's rigidity
+relaxed and he spoke more naturally. 'I shall never forget this, Dr.
+Ross--never, never! But'--here his voice shook--'you will let me go--you
+will not make me stop when people begin to talk about it? I am no
+coward, but there are some things too hard to put on any man; and to do
+my work when I see on the boys' faces that they know everything--it
+would be the death of me. I could not stand it--no, by heavens! I could
+not.'
+
+'You shall not be asked to bear it. My poor boy, have you no faith in
+me? Do you think I should ask you to perform so cruel, so impossible a
+duty? From this hour you are free, Cyril; do not trouble about your
+work. I can find a substitute, or, if that fails, I will do your work
+myself. You are ill--it will be no falsehood to say that--and in another
+fortnight the school will break up. Keep quiet--go away somewhere for a
+time, and take Burnett into your confidence; he will be a better friend
+for you just now than I.'
+
+'I doubt it, sir.'
+
+Then the Doctor's eyes glistened with tears.
+
+'God help you, my dear fellow! You are doing the right, and He will.
+This is not good-bye; I will see you again. Now go to her, and teach my
+child to do the right too.' And then Dr. Ross turned his back upon him
+rather abruptly, and walked to the window.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+'YOU WILL LIVE IT DOWN'
+
+     'Sweet the thought, our lives, my love.
+       Parted ne'er may be,
+     Though between thy heart and mine
+       Leagues of land and sea.
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     Of this twofold life and love,
+       Twofold running fate,
+     Sad and lone we may be oft,
+       Never desolate.'
+
+                                BRITTON.
+
+
+Cyril knew where he should find Audrey; she was generally in her own
+little sitting-room until luncheon. Sometimes her mother or Mollie would
+be with her, but this morning he felt instinctively that she would be
+alone.
+
+She was sitting by the window, and there was some work on her lap, but
+she did not seem to be employing herself. She had bidden Cyril enter,
+and directly she saw him she rose from her seat and crossed the room
+somewhat quickly to meet him; but he did not at once speak to her,
+neither did he offer his usual greeting.
+
+She waited for a moment to see what he would do; then she put up her
+face to him.
+
+'Why do you not kiss me, Cyril?' she said, a little reproachfully; and
+then he did take her in his arms.
+
+'It is for the last time!' he murmured, as he pressed her almost
+convulsively to him.
+
+But she made no answer to this; when he had set her free, she took his
+hand very quietly, and led him to a seat that stood beside her chair.
+His hand was cold, and she kept it in both her own as though to warm it.
+
+'I knew you would come to me,' she said very softly. 'How ill you look,
+my poor Cyril! You have not slept. Oh yes, I know all about it. And you
+have been to father, and you have both made yourselves very miserable.
+Do you think I do not know that? Poor father! and he is so
+tender-hearted.'
+
+'I tried to spare him,' he returned wearily. 'I did not wish to put him
+to any trouble. I must dree my own weird, Audrey.'
+
+'But I shall have to dree it too. Cyril, my darling, you shall not bear
+your trouble alone; it is far too heavy for you. As far as we can--as
+far as our duty permits, we will bear it together.' And then, as though
+the haggardness of his young face was too much for her, she came closer
+to him, and laid her head on his shoulder. 'We will bear it together,
+Cyril.'
+
+'But, Audrey, my one blessing, that cannot be. Do you know what I have
+come to say to you this morning? That our engagement must be at an
+end--that you are free, quite free.'
+
+'But I do not wish for freedom.'
+
+'My darling, you ought to wish for it. Under the circumstances, it is
+quite impossible that we should ever be married. I am a ruined man,
+Audrey; I have lost my good name, my work, my worldly credit; my
+connections are disreputable. By this time you must know that I have a
+father living, and that his name----'
+
+But she gently checked him.
+
+'Yes, dear, I know all.'
+
+'And yet you can tell me that you do not desire freedom? But that is all
+your goodness, and because you do not wish to pain me. Audrey, when I
+tell you that I must give up the idea of ever calling you my wife, it
+seems to me as though the bitterness of death were on me.'
+
+'My poor Cyril!'
+
+'Yes, I am poor indeed; I never dreamt of such poverty. They might have
+taken from me everything, and I would not have murmured, if they had
+only left me my faith in my mother, and if they had not robbed me of my
+love!'
+
+'She is yours still, Cyril. No, do not turn from me; I mean it--I mean
+it! If you give me up, if you say to yourself that our engagement is
+broken, it must be as you choose, and I must let you go. No woman can
+compel a man to remain bound to her. But the freedom is on your side
+alone; I neither ask nor desire to be free.'
+
+'Darling, darling, what can you mean?'
+
+'If you say that you will never marry me,' she continued, with an air of
+deep sadness, 'I suppose you will keep your word; perhaps you are right
+in saying so. I would not marry you without my father's consent, and he
+tells me he will never give it; but, Cyril, you may rest assured of
+this, that in your lifetime I will never marry another man.'
+
+Then he threw himself at her feet, and, taking her hands in his, begged
+her for very pity's sake to stop.
+
+'I love you, Audrey! I think I never loved you before as I do now! but
+do you think I would permit such a sacrifice?'
+
+'How are you to help it?' she returned, with a faint smile that was very
+near tears; 'and it would be no sacrifice, as far as I know my own
+heart. I think my one wish is to comfort you, and to make your life a
+little less dreary, Cyril,' looking at him earnestly; and it seemed to
+him as though her face were like an angel's. 'You will be brave and bear
+this for my sake. When you are tempted to lose faith, and hope seems
+farthest from you, you must say to yourself: "Audrey has not deserted
+me; she is mine still--mine always and for ever!"'
+
+Then he bowed his head on her hands and wept like a child. She passed
+her hand over his hair caressingly, and her own tears flowed; but after
+a little while she spoke again:
+
+'I have told father so, and I have told mother; I said to both of them
+that I would never give you up. We may live apart. Oh yes, I know that
+it is all very sad and miserable; but you will let me keep your ring,
+Cyril, because I still belong to you.'
+
+He tried to steady his voice, and failed; all his manhood could not give
+him fortitude at such a moment. He could only clasp her in his arms, and
+beg her for her own sweet sake to listen to him.
+
+And presently, when he was a little stronger, he put it all before her.
+He explained to her as well as he could the future that lay before him;
+the yoke of his father's sin was on his neck, and it was useless to try
+and break it off. He might call himself Blake, and look for new work in
+a new place, and the miserable fact would leak out.
+
+There is a fatality in such cases, he went on. 'One may try to hush it
+up, to live quietly, to attract no notice; but sooner or later the
+secret will ooze out. I think I am prouder than most men--perhaps I am
+morbid; but I feel I shall never live down this shame.'
+
+'You will live it down one day.'
+
+'Yes, the day they put me in my coffin; but not before, Audrey.' Then,
+as she turned pale at the thought, he accused himself bitterly for his
+selfishness. 'I am making you wretched, and you are an angel of
+goodness!' he cried remorsefully. 'But you must forgive me, darling;
+indeed, I am not myself.'
+
+'Do you think I do not know that?'
+
+'A braver man than I might shrink from such a future. What have I done
+that such a thing should happen to me? I loved my work, and now it is
+taken from me; as far as I know, I may have to dig for my bread.'
+
+'No, no!' she returned, holding him fast; for this was more than she
+could bear to hear--that the bright promise of his youth was blasted and
+destroyed. 'Cyril, if you love me, as you say you do, will you promise
+me two things?'
+
+He looked at her a little doubtfully.
+
+'If I love you!' he said reproachfully.
+
+'Then I will alter my sentence, I will say, because of your love for me,
+will you grant me these two things? Cyril, you must forgive your mother.
+However greatly she has erred, you must remember that it was for your
+sake.'
+
+'I do remember it.'
+
+'And you will be good to her?'
+
+Then, his face became very stern.
+
+'I will do my duty to her. I think I may promise you that.'
+
+'Dearest, I do not doubt it. When have you ever failed in your duty? But
+I want more than that: you must try so that your heart may be softer to
+her; you are her one thought; with all her faults, I think no mother
+ever loved her son so well. It is not the highest love, perhaps, since
+she has stooped to deceit and wrong for your sake; but, Cyril, it is not
+for you to judge her.'
+
+'Perhaps not; but how am I to refrain from judging her? To me truth is
+the one absolute virtue--the very crown and chief of virtues. That is
+why I first loved you, Audrey--because of your trustworthiness. But now
+I have lost my mother--nay, worse, she has never existed!'
+
+'I do not quite understand you.'
+
+'Do you think my mother--the mother I believed in--could have acted this
+life-long lie? Would she have worn widows' weeds, and utterly forsworn
+herself? No; with all her faults, such crooked ways would have been
+impossible. Audrey, you must give me time to become acquainted with this
+new mother. I will not be hard to her, if I can possibly help it;
+but'--here the bitterness of his tone betrayed his deep agony--'she can
+never be to me again what she has been.'
+
+'Then I will not press you any more, Cyril. I have such faith in you,
+that I believe you will come through even this ordeal; but there is
+something more I must ask you: Will you let Michael be your friend?'
+
+'We are friends, are we not?' he said, a little bewildered at this.
+
+'Ah! but I would have you close friends. Dear, you must think of me--how
+unhappy I shall be unless I know you have someone to stand by you in
+your trouble. If you would let my father help you!' But a shake of the
+head negatived this. 'Well, then, it must be Michael, our good, generous
+Michael, who will be like a brother to you.'
+
+'I do not feel as though any man could help me.'
+
+'No one but Michael. Dear Cyril, give me my way in this. We are going to
+part, remember, and it may be for a long term of years; but if you value
+my peace of mind, promise me that you will not turn from Michael.'
+
+'Very well; I will promise you that. Have you any more commands to lay
+upon me, Audrey?'
+
+'No,' she returned wistfully; 'be yourself, your true, brave, honest
+self, and all may yet be well. Now go! We have said all that needs to be
+said, and I must not keep you. You are free, my dear one; but it is I
+who am bound, who am still yours as much as ever. When we shall meet
+again, God knows; but in heart and in thought I shall be with you
+wherever you may go. Now kiss me, but you need not tell me again it is
+for the last time.'
+
+Then she put her arms round his neck, and for a minute or two they held
+each other silently.
+
+'My blessing, my one blessing!' murmured Cyril hoarsely.
+
+Then she gently pushed him from her.
+
+'Yes, your blessing. You may call me that always, if you will.' And
+then, still holding his hand, she walked with him to the door; and as he
+stood looking at her with that despair in his eyes, she motioned to him
+to leave her. 'Go, dearest; I cannot bear any more.' And then he obeyed
+her.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few hours afterwards her mother found her lying on her bed, looking
+very white and spent.
+
+'Are you ill, Audrey? My dear, your father is so anxious about you, and
+so is Michael. When you did not appear at luncheon, they wanted me to go
+to you at once. Crauford says you have eaten nothing.'
+
+'Dear mother, what does that matter? I am quite well, only so very
+tired. My strength seemed to desert me all at once, so I thought I would
+lie down and keep quiet. But you must tell father that I am not ill.'
+
+'I shall tell him how good and brave you are,' returned her mother,
+caressing her; 'Audrey, did Crauford tell you that Geraldine is here?'
+
+Then a shadow passed over Audrey's pale face.
+
+'No, mother.'
+
+'She came up the moment luncheon was over to ask if you could go with
+her to Beverley, and of course she saw at once that something was amiss.
+Your father took her into the study and told her himself. She is very
+much upset. That is why I have left you so long.'
+
+'I did not know it was long,' returned Audrey, speaking in the same
+tired voice; 'it seems to me only a few minutes since Crauford took away
+the tray.'
+
+'It is nearly four o'clock,' replied Mrs. Ross, looking at her
+anxiously--could it be her bright, strong girl who was lying there so
+prostrate? 'Geraldine has been here nearly two hours. She sent her love
+to you, darling, and wanted so much to know if she could see you; but I
+shall tell her you are not fit to see anyone.'
+
+'I do not know that,' returned Audrey in a hesitating manner; 'I was
+just wishing that I could speak to Michael. If you had not come up, I
+think I should have put myself straight and gone downstairs. I think I
+may as well see Gage for a moment; it is better to get things over.'
+
+'But, Audrey, I am quite sure it would be wiser for you to keep quiet
+to-day; you have had such a terrible strain. Everyone ought to do their
+best to spare you.'
+
+'But I do not want to be spared,' returned Audrey, echoing her mother's
+sigh; 'so please send Gage to me, and tell her not to stop too long.
+Crauford can tell her when tea is ready.' And then Mrs. Ross left her
+very reluctantly.
+
+Geraldine's face was suffused with tears as she sat down beside the bed
+and took her sister's hand. Audrey shook her head at her.
+
+'Gage, I don't mean to allow this; you and mother are not to make
+yourselves miserable on my account.'
+
+'How are we to help it, Audrey?' replied Geraldine with a sob; 'I have
+never seen you look so ill in your life, and no wonder--this unhappy
+engagement! Oh, what will Percy say when I tell him?'
+
+'He will be very shocked, of course. Everyone will be shocked. Perhaps
+both he and you will say it serves me right, because I would not take
+your advice and have nothing to do with the Blakes. Gage, I want you to
+do me one favour: tell Percival not to talk to me. Give him my love--say
+anything you think best--only do not let him speak to me.'
+
+'He shall not, dearest; I will not let him. But all the same, he will
+grieve bitterly. He knows how bad it will be for you, and how people
+will talk. I have been telling mother that you ought to go away until
+things have blown over a little.'
+
+Audrey was silent. This was not the sympathy her sore heart needed.
+Geraldine's tact was at fault here; but the next moment Geraldine said,
+with manifest effort:
+
+'Cyril has behaved very well. Father seems very much impressed with his
+behaviour; he says that he offered at once to release you from your
+engagement.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Percy will say he has acted like a gentleman; that is the highest
+praise from him. Dear--dearest Audrey, you will not think that I am not
+sorry for you both when I say that this is a great relief to me?'
+
+'A relief to you that Cyril is free?'
+
+'Yes, and that you are free too.'
+
+'Ah, but I am not,' moving restlessly on her pillow. 'There you are
+making a mistake, Gage. I thought father would have told you. I am still
+engaged to Cyril; I shall always be engaged to him, although perhaps we
+shall never be married.'
+
+'But, Audrey----'
+
+'Now, Gage, we are not going to argue about it, I hope; I am far, far
+too tired, and my mind is made up, as I told father. I shall never give
+my poor boy up--never, never!--as long as he is in the world and needs
+me.' Then, as she saw the distress on her sister's face, she put her
+hand again into hers. 'You won't love me less for being so wilful, Gage?
+If anyone had asked you to give up Percival when you were engaged to
+him, do you think you would have listened?'
+
+'Is that not very different, darling?'
+
+'No; not so very different. Perhaps I do not love Cyril quite in the
+same way you loved Percival, our natures are so dissimilar; but, at
+least, he is very dear to me.'
+
+'Do you mean that you will break your heart because of this? Oh,
+Audrey!' and Geraldine's face was very sad.
+
+'No, dear; hearts are not so easily broken, and I do not think that mine
+would be so weak and brittle. But the thought of his sorrow will always
+be present with me, and, in some sense, I fear my life will be clouded.'
+
+Then her sister caressed her again with tears.
+
+'But it will not be as bad for me as for him; for I shall have you all
+to comfort me, and I know how good you will all be. You will be ready to
+share even your child with me, Gage, if you think that will console me.'
+
+'Yes; and Percival will be good to you, too.'
+
+'I am sure of that; only you must ask him not to speak to me. Now I am
+very tired, and I must ask you to leave me. Go down to mother, dear
+Gage.'
+
+But it seemed as though Geraldine could hardly tear herself away.
+
+'I will do anything, if only you will promise to be happy again,' she
+said, kissing her with the utmost affection. 'Remember how necessary you
+are to us. What would any of us do without you? To-morrow I shall bring
+your godson to see you.'
+
+Then, at the thought of her baby-nephew, a faint smile crossed Audrey's
+face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+MICHAEL ACCEPTS HIS CHARGE
+
+     'Try how the life of the good man suits thee: the life of him who
+     is satisfied with his portion out of the whole, and satisfied with
+     his own just acts and benevolent disposition.'--M. AURELIUS
+     ANTONINUS.
+
+
+Michael's morning in the schoolroom had been truly purgatorial;
+fortunately for him, it was a half-holiday, and the luncheon-hour set
+him free from his self-imposed duties. On his way to his own room, he
+had overheard Geraldine's voice speaking to her father, and he at once
+guessed the reason why Dr. Ross had invited her into the study.
+
+He had never been less enamoured of solitude and of his own society;
+nevertheless, he told himself that any amount of isolation would be
+preferable to the penalty of hearing Geraldine discuss the matter. He
+could hear in imagination her clear sensible premises and sound, logical
+conclusion, annotated by womanly lamentations over such a family
+disaster. The probable opinions of Mrs. Bryce and Mrs. Charrington would
+be cited and commented on, and, in spite of her very real sympathy with
+her sister, Michael shrewdly surmised that the knowledge that the Blake
+influence was waning would give her a large amount of comfort in the
+future.
+
+When Crauford announced that the ladies were having tea in the
+drawing-room, he begged that a cup might be sent up to him.
+
+'Will you tell Mrs. Harcourt that I have a headache?' he said; and, as
+Crauford delivered the message, Geraldine looked meaningly at her
+mother.
+
+'I expect Michael has taken all this to heart,' she said, as soon as
+Crauford had left the room; 'he is very feeling, and then he is so fond
+of Audrey.' And as Mrs. Ross sighed in assent, she went on with the
+topic that was engrossing them at that moment--how Audrey was to be
+induced to leave home for a while.
+
+Michael's table was strewn with books, and one lay open on his knee, but
+he had not once turned the page. How was he to read when the very
+atmosphere seemed charged with heaviness and oppression?
+
+'She thinks that she loves him, and therefore she will suffer,' he said
+to himself over and over again; 'and it will be for the first time in
+her life; for she has often told me that she has never known trouble.
+But her suffering will be like a grain of sand in comparison with his.
+Oh, I know what he is feeling now! To have had her, and then to have
+lost her! Poor fellow! it is a cruel fate.'
+
+Michael pondered drearily over the future that lay before them all. How
+was he to bear himself, he wondered, under circumstances so
+exasperating? She was free, and he knew her to be free--for Cyril would
+never claim her--and yet she would regard herself as altogether bound.
+
+He must go away, he thought; not at once--not while she needed him--but
+by and by, when things were a little better. Life at Rutherford was no
+longer endurable to him; for months past, ever since her engagement, he
+had chafed under a sense of insupportable restlessness. A sort of fever
+oppressed him--a longing to be free from the influence that dominated
+him.
+
+'If I stay here I must tell her how it is with me, and that will only
+make her more miserable,' he thought. 'She is not like other women--I
+never saw one like her. There is something unreasonable in her
+generosity. Girls sometimes say things they do not mean, and then repent
+of their impulsiveness; but she will never repent, whether she loves him
+or not. She believes that it is her mission to comfort him. Perhaps, if
+I had appealed to her, I might have made her believe that she had a
+different mission. Oh, my dear, if it only could have been so!'
+
+And he sighed in the bitterness of his spirit; for he knew that in his
+unselfishness he had never wooed her.
+
+At that moment there was a light tap at his door, and he started to his
+feet with a quick exclamation of surprise as Audrey entered. He had been
+thinking of her at that moment, and he almost felt as though the
+intensity of his thoughts had attracted her by some unconscious
+magnetism; but a glance at her dispelled this illusion.
+
+She was dressed for dinner, and he noticed that there was an air of
+unusual sombreness about her attire, as though she felt that any gaiety
+of apparel would be incongruous. And as she came closer to him, he was
+struck with her paleness and the sadness in her large gray eyes.
+
+'Michael,' she said, in a low voice, 'I want to speak to you. I hope I
+am not interrupting you.'
+
+'You never interrupt me,' he returned quickly. 'Besides, I am doing
+nothing. Sit down, dear, and then we shall talk more comfortably.' For
+he noticed that she spoke with an air of lassitude that was unusual to
+her, and her strong lithe figure swayed a little, as though with
+weakness.
+
+'Do you think you should be here?' he asked, with grave concern. 'You
+look ill, Audrey, as though you ought to be resting in your own room.'
+
+'I have been resting,' she replied gently. 'And then Gage came to me,
+and after that I thought I had been idle long enough. Michael,'--and
+here her lips quivered as though she found it difficult to maintain her
+self-control--'you know all that has happened. Cyril has gone away--he
+has said good-bye to me--and he looks as though his heart were broken. I
+have done what I could to comfort him. I have told him that I shall
+always be true to him; but it is not in my power to help him more.'
+
+'Dear Audrey,' he said--for he understood her meaning well, and there
+was no need for her to speak more plainly--'it was not for me to go to
+him after such a parting as that. The presence of one's dearest friend
+would be intolerable.'
+
+'I did not mean to-day,' she returned sadly; 'but there is to-morrow,
+and there is the future. And he has no friend who is worthy of the name.
+Michael, there is no one in the whole world who could help him as you
+could. This is the favour I have come to ask you.'
+
+'It is granted, Audrey.'
+
+Then her eyes were full of tears as he said this.
+
+'Oh, I knew you would not refuse! When have you ever refused to do a
+kindness for anyone? Michael, I told my poor boy to-day that if he
+valued my peace of mind he would consent to be guided by your advice. He
+is so young; he does not know the world as you do, and he is so terribly
+unhappy; but if you would only help him----'
+
+'My dear,' he said very quietly, 'there is no need to distress yourself,
+or to say any more; we have always understood each other without words.
+You are giving me this charge because you are unable to fulfil it
+yourself. You wish me to be a good friend to poor Blake, to watch over
+him and interest myself in his welfare--that is, as far as one man will
+permit another to do so. Well, I can promise you that without a moment's
+hesitation. I will be as solicitous for him as though he were my
+brother. Will that content you?'
+
+But he could not easily forget the look of gratitude that answered him.
+
+'God bless you, Michael! I will not try to thank you. Perhaps some
+day----'
+
+She stopped as though unable to say more.
+
+'Oh,' he said lightly, and crushing down some dangerous emotion as he
+spoke, 'I have done nothing to deserve thanks. Even if you had not asked
+me this, do you think I would have gone on my own way, like the Levite
+in the parable, and left that poor fellow to shift for himself? No, my
+dear, no; I am not quite so flinty-hearted. Unless Blake will have none
+of my help--unless he absolutely repulse me--I will try as far as lies
+in my power to put him on his feet again.'
+
+'He will not repulse you; I have his word for that. Ah! there is the
+dinner-bell, and I have not said all that I wanted. The day seems as
+though it would never end, and yet there is time for nothing.'
+
+'You will not come downstairs, Audrey? Let me ask your mother to excuse
+you. See! you can stay in this room; I can clear the table and put
+things ship-shape for you.'
+
+Then she looked at him with the same air of innocent surprise with which
+she had regarded her mother the previous night, when she had asked to
+remain with her.
+
+'Why do you all treat me as though I were an invalid?' she said
+protestingly. 'I am not ill, Michael. What does it matter where one eats
+one's dinner? It is true I am not hungry, but there is father--why
+should I make him uncomfortable? We must think of other people always,
+and under all circumstances.'
+
+She seemed to be saying this to herself more than to him, as though she
+would remind herself of her duty. Michael said no more, but as he
+followed her downstairs he told himself that no other girl could have
+borne herself so bravely and so sweetly under the circumstances.
+
+He wondered at her still more as he sat opposite to her at table, and
+saw the quiet gravity with which she took her part in the conversation.
+She spoke a word or two about her sister, and mentioned of her own
+accord that she had promised to bring Leonard to see her the next day.
+
+'I do not mean to call him baby,' she said; 'he is far too important a
+personage. Did you hear nurse speak of him as Master Baby the other day?
+I think Gage must have given her a hint about it.'
+
+And then she listened with an air of interest as her mother related a
+little anecdote that recurred to her memory of Geraldine's babyhood.
+
+But he saw her flush painfully when Mrs. Ross commented on her want of
+appetite.
+
+'You have eaten nothing to-day, Crauford tells me,' she continued
+anxiously.
+
+Audrey shook her head.
+
+'One cannot always be hungry, mother dear,' she said gently; but it was
+evident that her mother's kindly notice did not please her.
+
+And she seemed still more distressed when her father once rose from his
+place to give her some wine.
+
+'Why do you do that?' she asked, with a touch of impatience. 'It is not
+for you to wait on me, father. Michael would have filled my glass quite
+easily.'
+
+'You are paying me a very bad compliment, Audrey,' returned Dr. Ross
+with a smile. 'You are telling me that I am too much of an old fogey to
+wait on ladies. Mike is the younger man, of course, and if you should
+prefer that he should help you to madeira----'
+
+'No, father, it is not that; but it is for me to wait on you. You must
+never, never do that for me again.'
+
+And somehow Dr. Ross seemed to have no answer ready as he went back to
+his chair.
+
+But when she was alone with her mother she spoke still more plainly.
+Mrs. Ross had persuaded her to take the corner of the couch; but as she
+stood by her manipulating the cushions and adjusting them more
+comfortably, Audrey turned round quickly and took hold of her hands.
+
+'Mother, do please sit down. I think you have all entered into a
+conspiracy to-night to kill me with kindness.'
+
+'We are so sorry for you, darling.'
+
+'Perhaps I am sorry for myself; but is that any reason why I should be
+treated as though I had lost the use of my limbs? I want you to behave
+to me as usual; it will be far better for me and you too. Why did not
+father and Michael talk politics, instead of making little
+cut-and-dried speeches that seemed to fit into nothing?'
+
+'I daresay they found it very difficult to talk at all under the
+circumstances.'
+
+'That sounds as though I had better have remained upstairs, as Michael
+suggested; indeed, I must do so if you will persist in regarding me as
+the skeleton at the feast.'
+
+'My darling child, how you talk! Surely you will allow your parents to
+share your sorrow?'
+
+'No, mother; that is just what I cannot allow; no one shall be burdened
+with my troubles. Listen to me, mother dear: I think people make a great
+mistake about this; they mean to be kind, but it is not true kindness;
+they are ready to give everything--sympathy, watchfulness,
+attention--but they withhold the greatest gift of all, the freedom, the
+solitude, for which the sufferer craves.'
+
+'Do you mean that we are to leave you alone, Audrey? Oh, my dear, this
+is a hard saying for a mother to hear!'
+
+'But it is not too hard for my mother,' returned Audrey caressingly.
+'Yes, I would have you leave me alone until I recover myself. I would be
+treated as you have always treated me, and not as though I were a maimed
+and sickly member of the flock. Neither would I be reminded every moment
+of the day that any special hurt has come to me.'
+
+'And I am not to ask you even to rest yourself?'
+
+'No, not even that. I would rather a thousand times that you gave me
+some work or errand. Mother dear,' and here her voice was very sad, 'I
+will not deny that this is a great trouble, and that my life will not be
+as easy and as happy as it used to be. The shadow of my poor boy's
+sorrow will be a heavy burden for me to bear; but we must ask God to
+lighten it for both of us. I tell you this to-night because you are my
+own dear mother, and such confidence is your due; but after to-night I
+shall not say it again. If you and father wish to help me, it will be by
+allowing me to feel that I am still your comfort;' and then she threw
+herself in her mother's arms. 'Tell father this,' she whispered, 'and
+ask him to give me time. One day, perhaps, I shall be more like my old
+self; but we must wait: it is too soon to expect much of me yet.'
+
+'I will tell your father you are our good, dear child, Audrey, and you
+shall have your way.'
+
+'Thank you; I knew you would understand. After all, there is no one like
+one's mother.' And then she sighed, and Mrs. Ross knew where her
+thoughts had wandered. 'Now, for this one evening, I will take your
+advice and rest. I will go up to my room now; but to-morrow'--she
+stopped, and then said firmly--'to-morrow everything shall be as usual.'
+And then she gave her cheek to her mother's kiss, and went up to her
+room.
+
+Michael did not make his appearance in the drawing-room that night. To
+Booty's secret rapture, he put on his great-coat, and went out into the
+chill darkness. He had much to consider; and it was easier to make his
+plans under the dim March starlight. A difficult charge had been given
+him, and he had not shrunk from it; on the contrary, he had felt much as
+some knight in the olden times must have felt when his liege lady had
+given him some hazardous work or quest. To be sure, there was no special
+guerdon attached to it; but a man like Michael Burnett does not need a
+reward: if he could only give Audrey peace of mind, he would ask no
+other reward.
+
+He made up his mind that he would go to Cyril the next morning, and he
+thought he knew what he should say to him. He and Dr. Ross had talked
+matters over after dinner. Dr. Ross had already suggested a
+substitute--a young Oxford man, who was staying at the Vicarage, and who
+was on the look-out for a mastership.
+
+'I told Cyril that he had better discontinue his work,' he went on. 'If
+it were not for Audrey, he could have made some sort of shift, and kept
+on until the holidays; but it would never do to run the risk of another
+scene between them: it would be bad for her, and it would be terrible
+for him. It is an awkward complication, Mike; it would be better to get
+him away as soon as possible.' And to this Michael assented.
+
+He went round to the Gray Cottage soon after breakfast. Audrey was
+watering her flowers in the hall. She looked at him as he passed her,
+but did not speak; of course, she guessed his errand, for he saw her
+head droop a little over the flowers.
+
+Mollie received him. The poor girl's eyes were swollen with crying, and
+she looked up in his face very piteously, as he greeted her with his
+usual kindness.
+
+'Where is your brother, Mollie?'
+
+'Do you mean Cyril? He is in his room; but no one has seen him. Oh,
+Captain Burnett, is it true? Mamma has been saying such dreadful
+things, and we do not know whether we are to believe her. Biddy tries to
+hush her, but she will go on talking; she is quiet now, and Kester and I
+crept down here. Ah, there is Kester looking at us; he wants you to go
+in and speak to him.'
+
+'Is it true?' were Kester's first words when he saw his friend. The poor
+lad's lips were quivering. 'Oh, Captain Burnett, do tell us that it is
+not true!'
+
+'I cannot do that, my boy,' returned Michael gravely; and then he sat
+down and listened to what they had to tell him. He soon found that the
+mother's wild ravings had told them the truth. In her despair at being
+refused admittance to her son's room, she had given way to a frantic
+outburst of emotion. Biddy had tried to get rid of them, but Kester and
+Mollie had remained, almost petrified with horror. What could their
+mother mean by telling them that she hated the sight of them, and
+adjuring them to go to their father?
+
+'Father is dead; does she wish us to be dead, too?' Mollie had faltered.
+'Dear mamma, do let me go and fetch Cyril! You are ill; you do not know
+what you are saying!' But as she turned to go, her mother had started
+up, and gripped her arm so fiercely that the poor child could have
+screamed with pain.
+
+'Yes, you shall fetch him, but he will not come; he will not listen to
+you any more than he would to me. When I implored him on my knees to
+open the door, he said that he was ill, and that he could not speak to
+me. But was I not ill, too? If I were dying he would not come to me! and
+yet he is my son!'
+
+'Dear mamma! oh, dear mamma! do you know how you are hurting me?'
+
+'No; it is he who is hurting me: he is killing me--absolutely killing
+me!--because I kept from him that his father was alive! Did I not do it
+for his sake--that he should not be shamed by such a father? Go to him,
+Mollie; tell him that you know all about it, and that Audrey Ross will
+have nothing to say to him, because he is the son of a felon. Why are
+you staring at me? Go! go!' And she pushed her from her so roughly that
+Mollie would have fallen if Biddy had not caught her.
+
+'Go, Miss Mollie, or you will drive her crazy with your big eyes and
+frightened face. Whist! don't heed the mistress's wild talk; it is never
+the truth she is telling you.'
+
+But Mrs. Blake had interrupted the old woman; her eyes were blazing with
+angry excitement:
+
+'Where do you expect to go, Biddy, if you tell Mollie such lies? You are
+a wicked old woman! You have helped me to do all this mischief! Would
+you dare to tell me to my face that I am not the wife of Mat O'Brien?'
+
+'Sorra a bit, Miss Olive; you are the widow of that honest man Blake.
+Heaven rest his soul!' returned the old woman doggedly. 'We must be
+having the doctors to you, Miss Olive avick, if you tell us these wild
+stories.'
+
+'Biddy, you are a false, foolish old creature! and it is you who are
+driving me out of my sane senses.'
+
+But at this point Mollie fairly fled.
+
+'Did you see your brother?' asked Michael, as she stopped to dry her
+eyes. Kester had never uttered a word; he left Mollie to tell her own
+story, and sat leaning his head on his hands. For once Mollie's
+loquacity was suffered unchecked.
+
+'It was dark, and I could not see him; it was quite late, you
+know--nearly twelve o'clock. He came out and listened to me; but the
+passage and the room were quite dark.
+
+'"Go down, Mollie," he said, "and tell my mother that I cannot speak to
+her to-night. It is quite impossible; she ought not to expect it."
+
+'"But she is ill, Cyril--I am sure she is dreadfully ill; her eyes look
+so strange, and she is saying such things!"
+
+'"Biddy will take care of her; if she needs a doctor, you must go for
+one. But nothing on earth would induce me to see her to-night." And then
+he went back into his room and locked the door.'
+
+'Poor Mollie!'
+
+'Oh, that was nothing to what came afterwards. Would you believe it,
+Captain Burnett?--mamma had heard every word. When I left Cyril, I found
+her crouching on the stairs in a dark corner. Oh, I shall never forget
+the turn it gave me! She had got her arms over her head, and they seemed
+quite stiff, and her fingers were clenched. Biddy was crying over her;
+but she did not move or speak, and it was quite an hour before we could
+get her into her own room.'
+
+'You ought to have sent for the doctor.'
+
+'Biddy would not let us; she said it was only sorrow of heart, and that
+she had seen her once before like that, when her husband died. What
+makes Biddy say that, Captain Burnett, if our father be still living?'
+
+Michael shook his head.
+
+'Biddy chooses to persist in her falsehood. I have seen your father,
+Mollie. I am very sorry for him; with all his faults, he loves his
+children.' Then a low sound like a groan escaped Kester's lips. 'And I
+think his children should be sorry for him, too; he has had a hard,
+unhappy life. But there is no time to talk of this now; I want you to
+finish about last night, and then I must go upstairs.'
+
+'There is nothing more to tell. We could not induce mamma to undress or
+to go to bed, so Biddy covered her up and told me to go away. She was
+with her all night. With all her crossness and tiresome ways, Biddy is
+always good to mamma; she was talking to her almost as though she were a
+baby, for I stood and listened a minute before I closed the door. I
+could hear her say:
+
+'"Miss Olive avick, what was the good of telling the children? You
+should hush it up for Mr. Cyril's sake, and for the sake of the dear
+young lady he is going to marry." But he is not going to marry her;
+mamma said so more than once.'
+
+And then, in a few grave words, Michael told them all that it was
+necessary for them to know.
+
+'Poor, poor Cyril! Oh, my dear Miss Ross!' was all Mollie could say.
+Kester seemed nearly choking.
+
+'Let me go to him, dear Mollie. But I think I will see your mother
+first. Biddy seems to be a bad adviser. After all, she may require a
+doctor.'
+
+And then he put his hand on Kester's shoulder and whispered something
+into his ear. Mollie could not hear what it was, but she saw the boy's
+face brighten a little as he took up Booty to prevent him from following
+his master.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+'THERE SHALL BE PEACE BETWEEN US'
+
+     'Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them, then, or bear
+     with them.'
+
+            *       *       *       *       *
+
+     'When a man has done thee any wrong, immediately consider with what
+     opinion about good or evil he has done wrong; for when thou hast
+     seen this thou wilt pity him, and wilt neither wonder nor be
+     angry.'--M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.
+
+
+Biddy was hovering about the passage, as usual. She regarded Michael
+with marked disfavour when he asked if he could see her mistress. In her
+ignorant way, she had arrived at the conclusion that the Captain was at
+the bottom of the mischief.
+
+'Why couldn't he leave things to sort themselves?' she grumbled within
+herself. 'But men are over-given to meddling; they mar more than they
+make.'
+
+'My mistress is too ill to see anyone,' she returned shortly.
+
+'Do you mean that she is in her own room?' he asked.
+
+But even as he put the question, he could answer it for himself. The
+door of the adjoining room was wide open, and he was certain that it was
+empty.
+
+'Sick folk do not always stop in their beds,' retorted Biddy still more
+sourly; 'but for all that, she is not fit to see visitors.'
+
+She squared her skinny elbows as she spoke, as though prepared to bar
+his entrance; but he looked at her in his quiet, authoritative way.
+
+'She will see me, Biddy. Will you kindly allow me to pass?' And the old
+woman drew back, muttering as she did so.
+
+But he was obliged to confess that Biddy was right as he opened the
+door, and for a moment he hesitated on the threshold.
+
+Mrs. Blake was half sitting, half lying on the couch in a curiously
+uneasy position, as though she had flung herself back in some sudden
+faintness; her eyes were closed, and the contrast between the pale face
+and dark dishevelled hair was very striking; her lips, even, were of the
+same marble tint. He had always been compelled to admire her, but he had
+done so in grudging fashion; but now he was constrained to own that her
+beauty was of no mean order. An artist would have raved over her; she
+would have made a model for a Judith or a Magdalene.
+
+As he stood there with his hand on the door, she opened her eyes and
+looked at him; but she did not change her attitude or address him.
+
+Michael made up his mind that he must speak to her.
+
+'I am sorry to see you look so ill, Mrs. Blake.'
+
+He took her hand as he spoke; it felt weak and nerveless. But she drew
+it hastily away, and her forehead contracted.
+
+'Of course I am ill.'
+
+'I hope Biddy has sent for a doctor; I think you should see one without
+delay.'
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+'No doctor would do me any good. I would not see him if he came.'
+
+Michael was silent; he hardly knew how he was to treat her. Mollie's
+graphic account of the scene last night had greatly alarmed him. Mrs.
+Blake was of a strangely excitable nature; he had been told that from
+her youth she had been prone to fits of hysterical emotion. She was
+perfectly unused to self-control, and only her son had ever exercised
+any influence over her. Was there not a danger, then, that, the barriers
+once broken down, she might pass beyond her own control? He had heard
+and had read that ungovernable passion might lead to insanity; he almost
+believed it, as he listened to Mollie's story. This is why he had
+insisted on seeing her. He must judge of her condition for himself; he
+must do his best to prevent the recurrence of such a scene. And now, as
+he saw her terrible exhaustion and the dim languor in her eyes, he told
+himself that something must be done for her relief.
+
+'If you send one, I will not see him,' she went on.
+
+'I think you are wrong. For your children's sake you ought to do your
+best to throw off this illness that oppresses you.'
+
+But she interrupted him.
+
+'Why are you here this morning? Are you going to him?' she asked
+abruptly.
+
+'Yes, certainly; that is, if he will see me.'
+
+'He will see you. He would not refuse anyone who came from Woodcote.
+Captain Burnett, will you tell me this one thing: has that girl given
+him up?'
+
+Michael hesitated.
+
+'Your son has broken off his engagement with Miss Ross. He felt he could
+not do otherwise.'
+
+'You are not answering me straight. I do not want to hear about Cyril;
+of course he would offer to release her. But has Miss Ross consented to
+this?'
+
+'No,' he returned reluctantly, for it pained him to enter on this
+subject with her; 'she has refused to be set free. As far as your son is
+concerned, the engagement is broken; but my cousin declares her
+intention of remaining faithful to him.'
+
+'I knew it--I knew it as well as though you had told me,' returned Mrs.
+Blake with strong emotion; 'Audrey Ross is not the girl to throw a man
+over. Oh! I love her for this. She is a darling, a darling,
+but'--relapsing into her old melancholy--'they will never let her marry
+him--never, never!'
+
+'I am afraid you are right.'
+
+'No, he is doomed; my poor boy is doomed. If you see him, what is there
+that you can say to comfort him?'
+
+'I shall not try to comfort him. I shall bid him do his duty. Comfort
+will come to him in no other way.'
+
+'Shall you speak to him of me?'
+
+'Yes, certainly. If I have any influence, I shall bring him to you
+before an hour is over.'
+
+Then she caught his hand and the blood rushed to her face.
+
+'God bless you for this!' she whispered. 'Go; do not keep me waiting.
+Go, for Heaven's sake!'
+
+'You must promise me one thing first: that you will control yourself.
+Think of him, of the day and the night he has passed. He will not be fit
+for any scene. If you reproach him, you will only send him from you
+again.'
+
+'I will promise anything--everything--if you will only bring him.' And
+now her eyes were wet; it seemed as though he had given her new life.
+She sat erect; she was no longer like a marble image of despair. 'If I
+can only see him, if he will let me speak to him! but it is this
+emptiness--this blank, this dreadful displeasure--that is shutting me
+out from him, that is killing me by inches.'
+
+And here she put her hand to her throat, as though the words suffocated
+her.
+
+'Be calm and quiet, and all may yet be well,' he returned in a soothing
+voice; 'I will do what I can for you and him too.' And with a reassuring
+look he left her.
+
+What had become of his dislike? He felt he no longer disliked her. She
+was false--falser than he had thought any woman could be; she had
+qualities that he detested, faults that he, of all men, was most ready
+to condemn; but the one spark of goodness that redeemed her in his eyes
+was her love for her son.
+
+He knocked somewhat lightly at Cyril's door, but there was no answer;
+but as he repeated it more loudly, Cyril's voice impatiently demanded
+his business.
+
+'It is I--Burnett. Will you let me speak to you a moment, Blake?'
+
+And then the door was unlocked, and Cyril stood aside to let him enter;
+but he uttered no greeting, neither did Michael at once offer his hand.
+He threw a hasty glance round the room as Cyril relocked the door; the
+bed had not been slept in that night--that was plainly evident--but the
+crushed pillow and the rug flung across the foot proved clearly that he
+had thrown himself down fully dressed when weariness compelled him.
+
+He had evidently only just completed his toilet: the shirt he had thrown
+aside was still on the floor, in company with his bath towels; and
+something in his appearance made Michael say: 'You were just going out.
+I hope I am not keeping you?'
+
+'There is no hurry,' returned Cyril indifferently; 'I was only going out
+because I could not stop indoors any longer; but there is plenty of time
+between this and night.' And then he offered Michael the only chair, and
+sat down on the bed. 'This place is not fit for you,' he continued
+apologetically; 'but there is nowhere else where one can be quiet.'
+
+'You are looking ill, Blake. I am afraid you have not slept.'
+
+For there was a sunken look in Cyril's eyes that told its own tale.
+
+'I had some sleep towards morning,' he replied, as though the matter did
+not concern him; 'and I dreamt that I was in purgatory. It was not a
+pleasant place, but I believe I was rather sorry when I woke. It is very
+good of you to look me up, Burnett.' And here he paused, and then said
+in a changed voice: 'Will you tell me how she is?'
+
+'You mean my cousin? She is as well as one can expect her to be; but, of
+course, all this has been a terrible upset. She is very good and brave.
+She knows I have come to you.'
+
+'Did she send you?'
+
+'I suppose I must say yes to that; but I had fully intended to come.
+Blake, I want you to look on me as a friend. You need someone to stand
+by you, and see you through this; and I think there is no one so
+suitable as myself at the present.'
+
+'You are very good; but I can have no possible claim on you, Captain
+Burnett.'
+
+Cyril spoke a little stiffly.
+
+'If you put it in that way, perhaps not; in this sense, a shipwrecked
+sailor has no claim on the man who holds out a helping hand to him; but
+I doubt whether that reason would induce him to refuse it.'
+
+Then a faint smile came to Cyril's dry lips.
+
+'You are right to choose that illustration. I think no man in the world
+has ever suffered more complete shipwreck. I have been trying to face my
+position all night, and I cannot see a gleam of hope anywhere.'
+
+'You must not lose heart, Blake.'
+
+'Must I not? I think anyone would lose heart and faith, and hope, too,
+in my position. Two days ago no future could have been so bright; I had
+everything--everything that a man needs for his happiness; and at this
+moment no beggar could be poorer. I feel as though I had no bread to
+eat, and as though I should never have appetite for bread again.'
+
+'I understand what you mean. I had the same sort of feeling as I lay in
+the hospital. I was covered with wounds; health was impossible; my work
+was gone. I could not face my life. Would you believe it, Blake?--I was
+the veriest coward, and could have trembled at my own shadow. It made a
+woman of me. I did not want to live such a crippled, meagre existence;
+but somehow I managed to struggle to the light.'
+
+'Did anyone help you?'
+
+'No, not consciously; I helped myself. At least'--in a lower
+voice--'the help that came to me was from a higher source. One day I
+will tell you about it, Blake; it was an awful crisis in a man's life,
+and I should not speak about it unless I thought my experience could
+benefit anyone. Now about yourself--have you formed any plans?'
+
+'None; but I must get away from here.'
+
+'I can understand that perfectly; and I must say that I think you are
+right. Dr. Ross and I were speaking about you yesterday; he is deeply
+grieved at the idea of parting with you so abruptly. He says, under any
+other circumstances (he was thinking of his daughter when he spoke) that
+it would have been well for you to go on with your work as usual--the
+change could have been made after the holidays--but he fears now that
+this is hardly possible. I am sure you will not misunderstand him.'
+
+'No; he has decided quite rightly.'
+
+'He will give you a testimonial of which any man may be proud. He told
+me with tears in his eyes that he never knew anyone so young with so
+great a moral influence; that your work was at all times excellent, and
+that he had never had so high a respect for any of his masters. And he
+begs me to say that you may command his purse or influence to any
+reasonable extent. He will be truly grateful to you if you will not
+refuse his help.'
+
+'I fear I must refuse it.' And Cyril threw back his head with his old
+proud gesture. 'But do not tell him so, Captain Burnett. Give him my
+kindest, my most respectful regards. Say anything you like, but do not
+compromise me. I will take nothing but my salary from Dr. Ross.'
+
+'Then we will say no more about it,' returned Michael with ready tact.
+'Every man has a right to his own independence. Have you any place to go
+to when you leave here, Blake?'
+
+Then Cyril shook his head.
+
+'One can always take lodgings,' he replied. 'I must go up to town and
+look out for some situation. I suppose, after all, my testimonials will
+help me.'
+
+'Without doubt they will. What do you say to a secretaryship? I have one
+in my mind that I think would suit you. It is a friend of my own who is
+wanting someone as a sort of general amanuensis and secretary. He is a
+literary man and extremely wealthy, an old bachelor and somewhat of an
+oddity; but in his own way I don't know a better fellow.'
+
+Cyril listened to this description with languid interest.
+
+'It sounds as though it would do,' he replied, after a moment's
+reflection. 'At least, I might try it for a time. Last night I thought
+of going to New Zealand. I could get a mastership there.'
+
+'That is not a bad idea; but you might try the secretaryship first, if
+Unwin be willing to come to terms. The work would be novel and
+interesting, and your mother might not like the New Zealand scheme.'
+
+Then, at the mention of his mother, Cyril's face seemed to harden.
+
+Michael took no apparent notice of this.
+
+'I tell you what we will do, Blake. We will go up to town together. When
+would you like to start--to-morrow?' Here Cyril nodded. 'I have diggings
+of my own, you know, in South Audley Street. They are very comfortable
+rooms, and I can always get a bed for a friend. The people of the house
+are most accommodating. Besides, I am a good tenant. I will put you up,
+Blake, for any length of time you like to name. I will not promise to
+bear you company after the first week or so; but by that time you will
+find yourself quite at home. And we will interview the old fellow as
+soon as possible.'
+
+'You are too good! I have no right to burden you so;' but a ray of hope
+shone in Cyril's sunken eyes: he was not the outcast he had seemed to
+be, if this man stood by him.
+
+'Nonsense! How can you burden me?' returned Michael briskly. 'I shall be
+delighted to have your company. And the rooms are always there, you
+know. They may as well be used.'
+
+'And we can go to-morrow. You see, I am accepting your generous offer;
+but how can I help myself? I must find work, or I shall go mad.'
+
+'Just so, and I will help you to find it. There is some good, after all,
+in being an idle man: one can do a good turn for a friend. Well, we will
+say to-morrow. I shall be quite at your service, then; but there are two
+things that must be done first. Blake, do you know how ill your mother
+is? I was quite shocked to see her just now.'
+
+'Yes, Mollie told me so last night; she wanted me to come down to her,
+but I knew that it was far better for both of us that I should remain
+where I was; I was in no mood for a scene;' and Cyril knitted his brows
+as he spoke.
+
+'You were the best judge of that, of course; but I should advise you to
+see her now.'
+
+His grave tone somewhat startled Cyril.
+
+'Do you mean that she is so very ill?'
+
+'No, I do not mean that. As far as I can tell, I believe her illness is
+more mental than bodily; but she is evidently suffering acutely. If you
+leave her to herself much longer I would not answer for the
+consequences. Her nature is a peculiar one, as you must know for
+yourself. If you could say a word to her to soothe her, I think it would
+be as well to say it.'
+
+'Very well, I will go to her; but she must not expect me to say much.'
+
+'She will expect nothing; but all the same I hope you will not be too
+hard on her. If you cannot extenuate her fault, you can at least
+remember her provocations.'
+
+A sigh of great bitterness rose to Cyril's lips.
+
+'I think it is hardest of all to hear you defend my mother to me.'
+
+'I know it--it is bitterly hard. Do you think I don't feel for you? But,
+Blake, before we leave Rutherford, there is another duty, and a still
+more painful one. Surely you intend to see your father?'
+
+'I do not see the necessity, Captain Burnett; my father is nothing to me
+nor I to him.'
+
+'You are wrong,' returned Michael warmly; 'you are altogether wrong.
+Will you let me tell you something?'
+
+And then he repeated the substance of his conversation with Mat O'Brien.
+He thought Cyril seemed a little touched, but he merely said:
+
+'I think I need hardly see him at present;' and he added in a low voice,
+'Am I in a fit state to see anyone?'
+
+'Perhaps not; but you may not soon have another opportunity, my dear
+fellow. Will you put aside your feelings and do this thing for my
+satisfaction? I have given my word to Mr. O'Brien that I will do my best
+to bring you together, and if you refuse I shall accuse myself of
+failure.'
+
+'Oh, if you put it in that light, I do not see my way to refuse.'
+
+'Thanks--shall we go together, or would you prefer going alone?'
+
+'I could not bring myself to go alone.'
+
+'Very well, then, I will drive you over in the dogcart. I am no walker,
+as you know, and perhaps Kester had better go with us;' and to this
+Cyril made no demur. 'Now I have detained you long enough, and Mrs.
+Blake will be wearying for you. I will bring the trap round at half-past
+two.'
+
+Cyril nodded, and they went downstairs together. Michael paused for an
+instant at the drawing-room door:
+
+'Be gentle with her, Blake,' he said, as he grasped his hand. 'What is
+done cannot be undone;' and then he went down to Kester.
+
+Mrs. Blake was still in the same position. The tension of that long
+waiting had been too much for her, and the old faintness had returned;
+but when she saw her son she struggled into a sitting posture and
+stretched out her hands to him as he came slowly, and almost
+reluctantly, towards her.
+
+'Cyril! my darling Cyril!' Then he took her hand and held it for a
+moment. 'My boy,' she said a little piteously, 'have you nothing else
+for your mother?'
+
+But he seemed as though he failed to understand her, and when she
+pointed mutely to the seat beside her, he did not at once seat himself.
+
+'Mother,' he said, still speaking as though the words were difficult to
+him, 'I have come to tell you that there shall be peace between us.'
+
+'Does that mean you have forgiven me, Cyril?'
+
+'It means that I will do my best to forgive you your share in the ruin
+of my life--of all our lives.'
+
+Then as he stood before her she threw her arms round him with a faint
+cry; but he gently, very gently, repulsed her.
+
+'Do not let there be any scene; I could not bear it;' and the weariness
+in his voice made her heart ache still more. 'Mother, I think that we
+had better never speak of these things again. As far as I am concerned,
+I will willingly blot out the past from my memory. To-day we must begin
+afresh--you and I.'
+
+His tone made her shiver, and as she looked up in his dark impassive
+face, and saw the deep-seated melancholy in his eyes, a sort of despair
+seized her.
+
+'Oh!' she cried passionately, 'can it be my son who speaks? Blot out the
+past?--that happy past, when we were all in all to each other--when even
+poverty was delicious, because I had my boy to work for me!'
+
+'I shall work for you still.'
+
+'Yes, but will it be the same? What do I care for the gifts you may
+bring me when your heart has gone from me? How am I to bear my life when
+you treat me with such coldness? Cyril, you do not know what a mother's
+love is. If you had sinned, if you had come to me and said, "Will you
+take my hand, red as it is with the blood of a fellow-creature?" with
+all my horror I would still have taken it, for it is the hand of my
+son.'
+
+She spoke with a wild fervour that would have touched any other man; but
+he only returned coldly:
+
+'And yet you had no mercy for my father?'
+
+Then a look of repugnance crossed her face.
+
+'That was because I did not love him. Where there is no love there is no
+self-sacrifice; but, Cyril, with all my faults, I have been a good
+mother to you.'
+
+'I know it,' he replied, 'and I hope I shall always do my duty by you;
+but, mother, you must be patient and give me time. Do you not see,' and
+here his voice became more agitated, 'that you have yourself destroyed
+my faith in my mother: the mother in whom I believed, who was truth
+itself to me, is only my own illusion. I know now that she never
+existed; that is why I say that you must give me time, that I may become
+used to my new mother.'
+
+He spoke with the utmost gentleness; but his words were dreadful to her.
+And yet she hardly understood them. How could the pure rectitude, the
+scrupulous honour, of such a nature be comprehended by a woman like
+Olive O'Brien, a creature of wild impulses, whose notions of morality
+were as shifty as the quicksands, whose sense of right and wrong was so
+strangely warped? For the first time in her life the strong accusing
+light of conscience seemed to penetrate the murky recesses of her nature
+with an unearthly radiance that seemed to scorch her into nothingness.
+Her son had become her judge, and the penalty he imposed was worse than
+death to her. Of what use would her life be to her if the idol of her
+heart had turned against her? And yet, with all her remorse and misery,
+there was no repentance: if the time had come over again, she would
+still have freed herself from the husband she loathed, she would still
+have dressed herself in her widows' weeds, and carried out her life's
+deception.
+
+Cyril was perfectly aware of this; he knew all her anguish was caused by
+his displeasure, and by the bitter consequences that he was reaping. Her
+plot had failed; it had only brought disaster on him and his. If he
+could have seen one spark of real repentance--if she had owned to him
+with tears that her sorrow was for her sin, and that she would fain undo
+it--his heart would have been softer to her as she sat and wept before
+him.
+
+'I never thought you could have been so hard to me!' she sobbed.
+
+'I do not mean to be hard,' was his answer; 'that is why I said there
+should be peace between us, and because I am going away.'
+
+'You are going!--where?'
+
+And then he told her briefly that Captain Burnett had offered him a
+temporary home.
+
+'It is better for me to be alone a little,' he went on. 'When I have
+settled work, and you can get rid of the house, I will ask you to join
+me; but that will not be for some time.'
+
+'And I must stop on here alone? Oh, Cyril, my own boy, let me come with
+you! I will slave, I will be content with a crust, if you will only take
+me!'
+
+'It is impossible, mother; I shall have no home for you. You must stay
+here quietly with Mollie and Kester, until my plans are more settled.'
+
+And then he rose, as though to put an end to the discussion.
+
+'And you go to-morrow?'
+
+'Yes, to-morrow. Will you ask Mollie to look after my things?'
+
+Then, as she gazed at him with troubled eyes, he bent over her and
+kissed her forehead. 'We must begin afresh,' he said, half to himself,
+as he left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+'WILL YOU SHAKE HANDS WITH YOUR FATHER?'
+
+     'It is peculiar to man to love even those who do wrong. And this
+     happens if, when they do wrong, it occurs to thee that they are
+     kinsmen, and that they do wrong through ignorance and
+     unintentionally, and that soon both of you will die; and above all,
+     that the wrongdoer hath done thee no harm, for he hath not made thy
+     ruling faculty worse than it was before.'--M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.
+
+     'To err is human; to forgive, divine.'
+
+
+The drive to Brail that afternoon was a silent one; grim care sat on the
+two young faces, and Michael, with his usual tact, devoted himself to
+his mare. Now and then her skittishness gave him an opportunity of
+saying a word or two, to which Cyril replied in monosyllables.
+
+When they had left the inn, and were almost in sight of the cottage,
+Michael suddenly asked Cyril if he had ever seen Mr. O'Brien. 'Thomas
+O'Brien,' he added quickly.
+
+'You mean my uncle?' returned Cyril curtly. 'No; I have never seen him.'
+
+'Then I should like to tell you something about him. Of all the men I
+have ever known, Thomas O'Brien is the one I have most honoured. I have
+always had the greatest respect for him--for his honesty, integrity, and
+child-like simplicity. In spite of his want of culture, he is the
+gentleman his Creator intended him to be. Let me tell you, Blake, that
+you may be proud to call such a man your uncle.' And with these words
+Michael unlatched the little gate, and waited for them to follow him.
+
+They were not unperceived. Long before they reached the porch the
+cottage door was open, and Thomas O'Brien's genial face and strong,
+thick-set figure blocked up the doorway.
+
+Michael was about to speak, when, to his surprise, Cyril lifted his hat,
+and then extended his hand to the old man.
+
+'I believe you are my uncle, sir,' he said quietly. 'There can be no
+need of an introduction: I am Cyril, and this is my brother Kester.'
+
+A soft, misty look came into Thomas O'Brien's honest eyes.
+
+'Ay, my lad, I am thinking I know you both, though I have never set eyes
+on you before. You are kindly welcome, young gentlemen, for your own and
+for your father's sake.' And here he gave them a hearty grasp of the
+hand. 'The Captain is always welcome, as he knows. He and me have been
+friends for half a score of years--eh, Captain?'
+
+'Good God! are those my boys, Tom?'
+
+The interruption was so sudden and unexpected that they all started, and
+Cyril turned pale. Something familiar in the voice seemed to thrill him,
+like an echo from a far-off time. He turned round quickly. A tall man,
+with closely-cropped hair and a gray moustache, was standing behind him,
+and regarding him with dark, melancholy eyes.
+
+'Those two can never be my boys, Tom!' he repeated, in the same
+incredulous, awestruck voice.
+
+'Ay, lad, they are your own, surely; and you had better be thanking God
+for His mercy in giving you such sons than be taking the holy name on
+your lips.'
+
+But Mat did not seem to hear this mild rebuke.
+
+'Will you shake hands with your father, Cyril?' he said, with an air of
+deep dejection. 'I wish it were a cleaner hand, for your sake; but I can
+give you no other.'
+
+'Do you think I would refuse it, sir?' returned the young man, touched,
+in spite of himself.
+
+And then it was Kester's turn. But as Mat's eyes fell on the boy's worn,
+sickly face his manner changed.
+
+'Is that my little chap--the young monkey who used to ride on my
+shoulder and hold on by my hair? Dear! dear! who would have believed
+it?'
+
+Kester's pale face flushed a little.
+
+'You are looking at my crutch, sir,' he said nervously; 'but I shall
+soon throw it away. I am ever so much better now, am I not, Cyril?'
+
+'And where's my little Mollie?' continued Mat--'"the baby," as we used
+to call her?'
+
+'Let us come away,' whispered Michael in Mr. O'Brien's ear. 'They will
+get on better without us.'
+
+The tears were running down the old man's face as they turned into the
+little parlour.
+
+'It beats me, sir, it beats me utterly, to see my poor lad trying to
+make friends with his own children, and looking so shamed before them.
+That is a fine-looking chap, that eldest one,' he went on--'Miss Ross's
+sweetheart, as I used to call him. He is the sort any girl could fancy.
+And he has a look of Mat about him, too, only he is handsomer and better
+set up than Mat ever was. "I believe you are my uncle, sir." Few young
+chaps would have said that. A fine fellow, and she has lost him. Well,
+the Almighty sends trouble to the young as well as the old. May I light
+my pipe, Captain? For I am a bit shaky, and all this has overset me.'
+
+Meanwhile Cyril was saying:
+
+'We have not brought Mollie. If you wish to see her, she shall come
+another time.'
+
+'Thank you, my lad; that is kindly spoken. And I have a sort of longing
+to set eyes on her again. But you need not think that I am going to
+trouble her, or you either. A man like me has no right to trouble
+anyone.'
+
+How could they answer him? But Mat did not seem to notice their silence.
+His eyes were bent on the ground, and he twirled his gray moustache
+fiercely.
+
+'My children belong to their mother, and not to me. I made you over to
+her years ago. She said I was not fit to have the charge of my own
+children; and maybe she was right. It was not a wifely speech, but I
+can't blame her. When you go home, tell her I'll keep my word--that I'll
+lay no sort of claim to any of you.'
+
+He spoke in the slow, brooding tone that was natural to him, and the
+tears came into Kester's eyes as he listened.
+
+Boy as he was, he understood the deep degradation of such words. This
+tall, hungry-eyed man, who stood aloof and talked so strangely, was his
+own father, who was voluntarily denuding himself of a father's
+rights--an outcast thrown over by his wife and children--an erring, and
+yet a deeply repentant man. Could anything be more unnatural and
+horrible? Kester's boyish sense of justice revolted against this painful
+condition of things; he longed to start up and take his father's hand.
+
+'Do not be so miserable; whatever you have done, you are our father, and
+we will be good to you.' This is what he would have said; but he only
+looked at Cyril and held his peace.
+
+Cyril had felt himself strangely attracted from the first. This was not
+the father whom he had dreaded to see, and on whose countenance he had
+feared to behold the stamp of the felon. Mat's worn, gentle face and
+deep-set, sorrowful eyes only inspired him with pity; the haggard
+weariness, the utter despondency of the man before him told their own
+story. True, there was weakness, moral weakness; but, at least, there
+was no glorying in his wrong-doing. The prodigal had come home weary of
+his husks, and craving for more wholesome food.
+
+'If I have done wrong, I have suffered for it,' his looks seemed to say;
+and Cyril's generosity responded to the appeal.
+
+'We are all in a difficult position,' he said; 'but there is no need to
+make things worse than they are. It is not for us to judge our parents,
+neither is it our fault that all these years we have believed that we
+had but one. Now I know all, I feel you have not been treated fairly.'
+
+'I thought you would have taken your mother's part, my boy,' replied Mat
+humbly.
+
+Cyril's words brought him some amount of consolation, only he could not
+quite bring himself to believe them.
+
+'I hope that I shall always be on the side where the right lies,' was
+Cyril's answer. 'I do not wish to blame my mother. I think it is best
+and wisest to be silent. You are a stranger to us, and we have not even
+your memory to aid us. My own childish reminiscences are very vague: I
+can just remember a big man who used to play with us, and whom we called
+daddy; but I have no special recollection of him.'
+
+'I hardly expected you to say as much as that,' and Mat's eyes
+brightened; 'but, after all, I doubt if I am better off in that respect
+than you. How am I to find my little chaps again when I look at you
+both--a fine grown man, and that poor sickly lad beside you? Why,' he
+continued in a tender, musing tone, 'the little chaps I remember had
+rosy cheeks and curly heads. I can feel their bare legs swarming up me
+now. "Give us a ride, dad!" It was always Kester who said that. He was
+never still a moment unless he was asleep, and then he used to look so
+pretty; but where shall I find him?--there is not a trace of the little
+rogue left in him; and when I see my girl Mollie, it will be the same.'
+
+Kester could stand no more; he started up so hastily that his crutch
+slipped from under his arm, and he would have lost his balance if his
+father had not caught him and held him fast.
+
+'Why did you do that, boy? You have given me quite a fright? There!
+there! I will pick up your stick for you, while you stop quietly in your
+chair.'
+
+But, to his surprise, Kester held him tightly by the wrist.
+
+'Never mind the crutch, father; I am not afraid of a tumble. Somehow, my
+leg gets stiff, but I don't mind it. I only wanted to say that, if you
+like, I will come and see you sometimes, when I can get a lift; and I
+will bring Mollie with me. I can't help what mother says,' continued the
+boy, his face working, 'and I don't mean to let her hinder us from
+coming. Cyril is going away, so he will not count; but I'll bring
+Mollie: and though she is not your baby now, she will take to you and
+cheer you up.'
+
+Kester was quite out of breath with this long speech that he blurted
+out, but he was hardly prepared for the result; for before he had
+finished a low sob broke from Mat's lips, and he sat down shaking with
+emotion, and covered his face with his hands. Kester looked at him
+wistfully.
+
+'Have I said anything to hurt him?' he whispered; but Mat's ears caught
+the words.
+
+'No, no,' he returned vehemently; 'you have put fresh life into me by
+speaking so kindly. It was only the word "father" that I never thought
+to hear. God bless you, my boy, for saying that! I thought that she
+would have taught you to hate me--as she did herself.'
+
+'I shall never hate you, father; I would not be so wicked. If you will
+let me come and see you sometimes I will try to be good to you, and I
+know Mollie will, too. I suppose,' continued Kester doubtfully, 'that I
+must not ask you to come and see us in return. It is mother's house,
+and----'
+
+But Mat finished the speech:
+
+'No, my lad, you are right. Your mother and I have parted for this
+life.' And now he spoke with a sort of mournful dignity. 'The time was
+when I worshipped the ground she walked upon; but there are limits to a
+man's love. When she forsook me in my shame and trouble, when she stood
+there taunting me in my prison cell, my heart seemed to die to her.
+Olive is nought to me now but a bitter memory, and if she prayed to me
+on her bended knees I would not enter her house.'
+
+It was Cyril's turn to speak now.
+
+'Yes, you are better apart,' he said in a low voice; 'and my mother has
+always been my charge. I shall tell her that she must not hinder Mollie
+or Kester from coming to see you. Shall you still remain here, father?'
+
+He said the word with some little effort, but the same brightness came
+into Mat's eyes.
+
+'I think so, my lad; I would as lief stay with Tom. All these years he
+has stuck to me, and I'll not forsake him now.'
+
+'And you will be comfortable?'
+
+Cyril asked the question with some degree of interest, and again Mat's
+eyes glistened with pleasure.
+
+'I doubt if I was ever so comfortable in my life,' he returned, without
+any hesitation. 'You are young, my boy, and trouble is new to you, and
+Heaven forbid that you should ever be able to put yourself in my place.
+But if you only knew what it is to me to bid good-night to someone
+again!
+
+'It is not much of a life, perhaps,' went on Mat, with his gentle,
+melancholy drawl; 'but to me it is heavenly in its peace and quiet.
+Prissy is sometimes a bit harassing: but, then, most women are; but she
+keeps things comfortable and ship-shape, and when she has gone off to
+bed there is Tom and his pipe in the chimney-corner, and it is "Come and
+have a chat, my lad, until it is time to turn in." Yes, yes, I'll bide
+with Tom and be thankful.'
+
+'Then we will come and see you here sometimes,' returned Cyril, rising;
+'for myself I cannot answer at present----' He paused, and then
+continued hurriedly: 'I shall not see you again for some time. I am
+leaving Rutherford.'
+
+'Yes, lad, I know,' and Mat sighed heavily; 'and it is all through me
+that you are going. I wanted the Captain to hush it all up; but he would
+not hear of it. When I think of all I have brought on you, I wonder you
+can bring yourself to speak a kind word to me.'
+
+'It is not all your fault; but I cannot talk of myself. Good-bye,
+father. If we do not meet again for some time, it will be because things
+are going badly with me; but I shall always be ready to help you, if you
+need my assistance.'
+
+'Thank you, my boy,' returned Mat huskily.
+
+And then it was Kester's turn.
+
+'I shall come soon, very soon, and Mollie shall come with me.'
+
+'Mollie!' Mat repeated the name in fond, lingering fashion as he moved
+to the window. 'My little girl! I wonder if she is like Olive? Cyril is;
+he has all her good looks, but he has something in his face that Olive
+never had. I almost felt shamed when he called me father; but the other
+one--he is not my little chap, and yet he is--but somehow when he spoke
+my whole heart seemed to go out to him.' And then Mat tried to light his
+pipe, only his hand trembled too much to do it. 'If I could only have my
+life back again!' he said to himself with a groan.
+
+Cyril hardly broke the silence once during the drive back. It was not
+until several days had passed that Michael heard how that interview with
+his father had affected him. Cyril said very little even then, but
+Michael was relieved to find that, on the whole, he had been more
+attracted than repelled.
+
+'Kester likes him, and in a way I like him too,' he remarked; 'we both
+think he has been hardly used. My mother could have kept him
+straight--there is no doubt of that--but she never tried to do so. One
+is sorry for that sort of weakness, even if one cannot understand it,'
+finished Cyril, with the feeling that there was nothing more to say.
+
+Michael left them at the Cottage and drove on to Woodcote. His day's
+work had been somewhat arduous, and he felt fagged and weary. It was
+long past tea-time, he knew, but he wondered if he could ask Crauford to
+bring him some. Michael's long years of ill-health made him depend on
+this feminine panacea for all ills more than most men. That Michael
+hated to miss his tea was a well-known fact in the Ross household.
+
+Another time Audrey would have cared for his comforts, he thought, as he
+dragged himself up the stairs in a spiritless manner. Tired Nature was
+avenging herself in her usual fashion, and Michael's head and limbs were
+aching. Perhaps something else ached too.
+
+But his mood changed when he entered his room. After all, he had not
+been forgotten. A cheery little fire burnt and spluttered as though
+newly lighted, and a tiny kettle sang merrily on its trivet; the
+tea-tray was on the table, and, as Michael regarded these preparations
+with an expression of satisfaction, he heard Audrey's well-known knock
+at the door.
+
+'Shall I make your tea, Michael,' she asked, 'or would you rather be
+alone? Gage and Percival are downstairs, and, as I was sure you would
+be tired, I told Crauford to bring up the kettle. Shall I stay or not?'
+she continued, a little surprised by his silence.
+
+'Stay, by all means!' was his only reply, as he threw himself into his
+easy-chair.
+
+He would have thanked her--and she evidently expected to be thanked--but
+he was afraid he should say too much. She had thought of him and his
+comfort in her own unhappiness, though her face was still pale with her
+inward trouble.
+
+'You have had a trying day,' she continued, as she knelt down on the rug
+a moment to coax the fire to burn more brightly; 'and of course it has
+taken it out of you. I was quite sure that you would not be in the mood
+for Gage and Percival. Percival is very kind, but somehow he is not
+restful; he is so very bracing.' And she sighed as though she had found
+him so.
+
+'People are not always in a condition for a tonic, are they, Audrey?'
+
+'No,' she replied quietly; 'and then it is no use forcing it on them.
+But I must not be hard on Percival; he was very kind, only somehow his
+conversation was a little too bracing. He and Gage were full of plans;
+they meant it all for my good: but it was a little tiring.'
+
+'Poor child!' and Michael's sympathising tone was very healing.
+
+'But we will not talk about my silly self,' rousing herself; 'there is
+something else I want to know. I guess where you have been this
+afternoon. You have taken Cyril to see his father.'
+
+'Yes; and Kester too.'
+
+'I am very glad,' forcing a smile. 'It was right--quite right. He will
+be the happier for not shirking his duty.'
+
+Then she looked at Michael a little pleadingly, as though to beg for
+some account of the interview.
+
+'I am afraid I cannot tell you much,' he returned, feeling sorry that he
+had so little to communicate. 'As far as I could see, Blake behaved
+uncommonly well; he shook hands with O'Brien at once. But, of course,
+after that I only thought it right to efface myself.'
+
+'But surely Cyril has spoken of his father?'
+
+'No, he has not said a word; but I daresay he will open out more by and
+by, I am going up to town with him to-morrow, and we shall have plenty
+of opportunity if he feels disposed to talk.'
+
+'Are you going to stay?'
+
+'Well, yes--he is hardly fit to be left just now. I shall put him up at
+South Audley Street, and then he can look about him for a bit. I daresay
+I shall be back in a week or two.'
+
+'Oh, Michael, I never thought of this. Are you sure it will not trouble
+you?'
+
+'Not a bit,' he returned cheerfully. 'I want to see my lawyer, and do
+one or two things; so it comes quite handy.'
+
+But this plausible pretext did not in the least deceive her.
+
+'It is no use saying what I think,' she said hurriedly, and he saw the
+gleam of a tear on her eyelash. 'No one but yourself would ever do such
+things. I shall miss you--I think I shall miss you more than ever--but
+it will be such a comfort to feel you are with him.'
+
+'Oh, as to that, he will not need me long. When I see him fairly settled
+I shall come home. I want to speak to Unwin about him. You have often
+heard me speak of Unwin: he is nearly old enough to be my father; but we
+are great chums, and I mean to tell him the whole story about Blake. If
+I could only get Unwin to stand his friend, there will be some hope for
+him.'
+
+'Yes, I understand; but it is you who will be his benefactor. Don't
+frown, Michael, I am not going to thank you; I cannot. Now please tell
+me one other thing before I go: will you write to me?'
+
+'If you wish it,' he replied without hesitation. 'Oh yes, I will
+certainly write and let you know how we are getting on; but I think it
+might be as well for you not to answer my letters.'
+
+A flush came to Audrey's face, but she perfectly understood the delicacy
+that induced Michael to make this stipulation; he would deprive himself
+of one of his greatest pleasures rather than Cyril should be pained by
+the sight of her handwriting.
+
+'I will not write,' she said in a low voice. 'Now I must go down to
+Gage.'
+
+But he detained her.
+
+'Wait a moment; there is no hurry, is there? And it is my turn to ask
+questions. I want to know what you are going to do with yourself during
+my absence?'
+
+And there was no mistaking his anxiety, though he strove to hide it.
+
+'I shall do as usual,' she returned tranquilly. 'Mollie will come to me
+every morning, and we shall work hard at our lessons, and----'
+
+But he interrupted her.
+
+'Are you sure that your father will approve of Mollie's visits?' he
+asked.
+
+'There is no reason why he should disapprove,' she replied quickly; 'but
+of course I shall speak to him. There can be no possible reason why my
+poor Mollie should be punished. Father would not wish me to go to the
+Gray Cottage, and, indeed, I should not wish it myself; but there can be
+no objection to Mollie coming here.'
+
+'Perhaps not; and, after all, it will not be for long.'
+
+'No, it will not be for long; so I must do my best for her. Do not
+trouble about me, Michael; I shall be as busy as possible. I am not
+going away with Gage, as she wishes. I tell her I would rather stay
+quietly with father and mother--perhaps next holidays--but we need not
+talk of that.'
+
+'But you will be very dull.'
+
+'No, indeed, I shall have too much to do--at least, I do not mean to
+think whether I am dull or not; but, Michael, I shall depend for a great
+deal of my comfort on your letters.'
+
+Then he knew that the burden of her lover's unhappiness was very heavy
+upon her, but that she would not willingly speak of it even to him.
+
+'I will tell you all that there is to tell. If you do not hear from me,
+it will be because there is nothing to say;' and with these words he let
+her go.
+
+He did not speak to her again that evening; for though Mr. Harcourt had
+taken his departure, Geraldine had remained, with the amiable intention
+of cheering her sister. If she did not quite succeed in her mission, it
+was for no want of effort on Audrey's part, who, as usual, did her best
+for everyone. But more than once Michael detected a weary look in her
+eyes, that told him that she would fain have been left alone. 'But that
+is the last thing that Gage and Harcourt would ever do,' he said to
+himself, with a shade of bitterness, as he saw the gentleness and
+patience with which Audrey received her sister's attentions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+MICHAEL'S LETTER
+
+     'Be not ashamed to be helped; for it is thy business to do thy
+     duty, like a soldier in the assault on a town. How then, if being
+     lame, thou canst not mount up on the battlements alone, but with
+     the help of another it is possible.'--M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.
+
+
+About a week afterwards, Michael was writing in his sitting-room in
+South Audley Street when Cyril Blake entered the room. He put down his
+hat and began taking off his gloves as he stood by the table.
+
+'Well,' asked Michael, looking up from his cheque-book; 'have you hit it
+off, old man?'
+
+'Yes; we have settled it,' returned Cyril, dropping into a chair as
+though he were tired. 'And I am to enter on my duties next week.'
+
+'Next week! That is uncommonly short notice. Unwin must be in a precious
+hurry to close with the bargain.'
+
+'He is in a hurry. He says his work is all in arrears, and that his
+publishers want his book on Cyprus as soon as he can let them have it;
+and the papers are all in confusion. Of course I let him know that I was
+in no need of a holiday, and that I would far rather commence work at
+once. Mr. Unwin was most kind and considerate. My hours are to be from
+ten to six; so I shall be able to give a lesson or two in the evening.'
+
+'You know my opinion on that subject; but I fancy I have exhausted all
+my arguments for no purpose.'
+
+'I am afraid so too,' returned Cyril quietly. 'Mr. Unwin thinks he can
+find me a pupil--a young fellow who is behind-hand with his classics,
+and has got plucked in his examination. Really, Burnett, I am extremely
+indebted to you for this introduction to Mr. Unwin. In spite of his
+peculiarities, he seems to have an excellent heart.'
+
+'Oh yes; he is an out-and-out good fellow. I can tell you some anecdotes
+that are very much to his credit, only I know he would never forgive me.
+Unwin likes his kind actions to blush unseen. Shall you think me
+impertinent, Blake, if I ask what amount of salary he means to give
+you?'
+
+'Not in the least; you have every right to know. I am to have a hundred
+and twenty pounds a year--that is only thirty pounds less than I had at
+Rutherford. I never expected such good pay.'
+
+'Ah! Unwin can afford it.'
+
+'He seemed to say so. One thing--he thought I was older than I am. He
+seemed quite surprised when I told him I was only three-and-twenty.'
+
+Michael looked up a little sharply. There was no denying that Cyril
+looked older--even these few days had worked some indefinable change in
+him. He was not ill, though he could not be said to be well; but there
+had come to him a certain settled look that one sees on the faces of
+middle-aged men who have a large amount of care. And there were dark
+circles round his eyes, as though sleep had to be wooed with some degree
+of difficulty.
+
+'You are tolerably youthful still, Blake,' he said, not liking to admit
+that he saw this change in him.
+
+'Am I? I should not have said so from my own feelings. I fancy youth is
+rather a relative term; but I must acknowledge that Mr. Unwin treated me
+with a great deal of consideration. I know what you have told him; but
+he scarcely alluded to it, except in the most distant way: indeed, I am
+very grateful to him for his delicacy.'
+
+'I told you from the first that he was a good fellow. Unwin is what I
+call an all-round man. He is a bit fussy over his hobbies, but as long
+as you keep Charles the First out of your conversation I fancy it will
+be plain sailing. I hope you are not bursting with the subject, as the
+immortal Mr. Dick was, when he found himself compelled to fly his kites;
+but it is a fact that Unwin is a bit cranky about him.'
+
+'Thank you for warning me,' returned Cyril, with a grave smile; 'now, my
+next business will be to look out for some lodgings within an easy
+distance of Cromwell Road. I have trespassed on your kind hospitality
+long enough.'
+
+'Nonsense!' returned Michael bluntly. 'I expected you to stop on here
+for at least another month. I shall go back to Rutherford in a fortnight
+or so; but that would not make any difference to you: my old woman
+would be delighted to cook for you, and make you comfortable. You know,
+her husband was an old corporal in our regiment; but an amputated leg,
+and a little bit of money coming to his wife, made him fall out of the
+ranks. I have lodged with them for about ten years, and I have been in
+no hurry to change my quarters.'
+
+'No--they are very comfortable; but the fact is, Burnett, my mother
+gives me no peace. She writes every day to beg me to take her away from
+Rutherford. She says she will never go outside the gate as long as she
+remains there. I imagine she has a nervous dread of meeting my father;
+besides, she says everyone will be talking about her.'
+
+'I do not believe a single person in Rutherford has begun to talk.'
+
+'So I tell her; but she will not believe me. You know my mother; it is
+not always easy to manage her. She will be quieter when she has once got
+away; so, with many thanks for all your kindness, Burnett, I will just
+look out for these lodgings.'
+
+'Well, if your mind is made up, I will not try to change your
+determination; but, if you will excuse my plainness of speech, I think
+it would be better for you to be without your mother for another week or
+two.'
+
+'I daresay you are right,' replied Cyril wearily; 'and my quiet life
+here has been a great boon. But it does not do to think only of one's
+self. And, after all, nothing matters much. Perhaps Mrs. Johnson may
+know of some good rooms; they must be furnished, for of course it would
+never do to move our furniture under the present unsettled state of
+things. Besides, ours is too old to bear another journey. My mother can
+bring away the books, and her bits of china, and any little thing she
+fancies, and Biddy can mount guard over the rest until we can dispose of
+it. I daresay I can soon get the house off my hands.'
+
+'There will be no difficulty about that,' returned Michael, inwardly
+wondering at Cyril's cool, business-like tone; in his heart he admired
+him all the more for his pluck. 'Paget is looking out for a house--you
+know he expects to be married shortly--shall I write to him and give him
+a hint that you want to find a tenant for the Gray Cottage? I daresay
+the landlord will be glad for him to take it.'
+
+'If you will be so good. I forgot all about Paget. But he would turn up
+his nose at our old carpets; his bride-elect is rather a grand lady.'
+
+Cyril's tone was a trifle cynical; but Michael would have forgiven him
+if his speech had been flavoured with the gall of bitterness.
+
+'Very well, then; I will write to him before country post, and we will
+have up Mrs. Johnson and talk to her.'
+
+And Cyril at once rang the bell.
+
+Two days afterwards Audrey received her first long letter from Michael.
+A brief note was all that had yet reached her.
+
+     'MY DEAR AUDREY,' it began,
+
+     'I hope that you will not think that I have forgotten you; but when
+     there is literally nothing to say, I am rather a bad hand at
+     cooking up a letter; and I had not a single fact to go upon, except
+     to tell you that, on the whole, we were pretty fit, and were
+     jogging along somehow. Well, I have a whole budget of facts now,
+     and my pen has become a valuable implement.
+
+     'First, then, Blake has come to terms with Unwin; and he is to
+     begin work on Monday. I believe in his heart he would still prefer
+     the New Zealand scheme; and if we could only get rid of his
+     mother--not an easy task that--I should be inclined to give him a
+     helping hand in that direction; but as Blake does not see his way
+     clear to leave her, he may as well take the berth offered to him.
+     Privately, I believe Unwin is hugging himself under the idea that
+     he has got a treasure. He spoke of him to me as a highly
+     intelligent fellow and a first-rate Greek scholar, which we know
+     are facts. His hours are pretty light--from ten to six--so he will
+     have his evenings to himself; but I am sorry to say he means to
+     look out for pupils. I have talked myself hoarse on the subject;
+     but he will not listen to reason. Of course his health will suffer:
+     he has always been accustomed to so much fresh air and exercise. If
+     I could only induce him to join a cricket or tennis club! But it
+     would never do to propose it just now; he has no heart for play.
+
+     'One thing, he has given in to me about Kester, though I had some
+     difficulty with him at first. We had a long talk last night, and I
+     employed all my eloquence to bring him to see the thing in its
+     right light; and at last he consented that I should have my way.
+
+     'Do you remember my telling you about George Moore--that nice
+     fellow who got into trouble with his rector? Well, he has married
+     lately, and his wife is a very good woman. Moore has taken a
+     capital house at Brighton. He has a curacy at Kemp Town, and he is
+     looking out for a few pupils to prepare for the university.
+
+     'I am going to send Kester to him for a year or two, until he is
+     old enough to go to Oxford. Abercrombie tells me the sea air will
+     do him a world of good. I have just written to him to come up at
+     once, as he must have a proper outfit. And now I must tell you that
+     Blake has found some very good rooms, Kensington way. I went down
+     with him yesterday, and I think they will do very well.
+
+     'There is a good-sized drawing-room--a sunny, cheerful room, with a
+     smaller one behind, where Blake can work with his pupils--and two
+     good bedrooms. Biddy (how I wish she were not to be of the menage!)
+     will have to content herself with a dull slip of a room on the
+     basement. Of course the furniture is shabby, and there is very
+     little of it; but I mean to introduce a few improvements by
+     degrees. I like the appearance of the woman of the house. She is a
+     widow, and is evidently very respectable. Her daughter, a very tidy
+     sort of person, waits on the lodgers.
+
+     'I think I have told you about all now. Blake has thawed lately,
+     and we have long talks together, though perhaps they are not
+     cheerful ones. On the whole, I think he shows a great deal of
+     pluck. I doubt whether any other young man of his age would behave
+     as well. If the Victoria Cross were ever given for moral heroism, I
+     am sure Blake would get it.
+
+     'Good-bye until we meet. I suppose I shall be back in another week
+     or ten days. Take care of yourself, my dear, for the sake of your
+     affectionate friend and cousin,
+
+                                                 'MICHAEL.'
+
+'There is no one like Michael!' was Audrey's inward comment as she put
+down the letter.
+
+How simply he had told her his intentions with regard to Kester! as
+though his generosity were a matter of course. How few men of Michael's
+age would have cared to saddle themselves with such a responsibility!
+for one, too, who was not their own kith and kin.
+
+'It will cost him at least two hundred a year,' she thought; 'no wonder
+my poor Cyril found it difficult to accept such an offer. He would take
+nothing from Michael for himself, but he could hardly refuse for Kester.
+Michael has virtually adopted him, just as I should like to adopt
+Mollie. I suppose he thinks he will have no son of his own, and there
+is all that money----'
+
+And she sighed a little as she thought of Michael's loneliness.
+
+But if she had only known it, Michael's real generosity was shown in
+those lines he had written at the end of his letter. His munificence to
+Kester cost him far less than those few words which he wrote so
+ungrudgingly of his rival; but he knew how they would gladden her heart.
+The old beautiful smile would come to her lips, he thought, as she read
+them.
+
+'They will please her more than all the rest of the letter,' he said to
+himself.
+
+Two or three evenings after this letter had reached her, Audrey went
+into her father's study, as usual, to bid him good-night; but when he
+had kissed her with that special tenderness which he had shown to her
+ever since her trouble, she looked at him very seriously.
+
+'Father,' she said, as he kept his arm still round her, 'I wish you to
+know that I am going to the Gray Cottage to-morrow to bid Mrs. Blake
+good-bye.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross's arm dropped from her waist, and she saw at once that the
+news was not palatable to him.
+
+'Is that necessary, Audrey?'
+
+'Yes, father; I think I may say that it is necessary. I have kept away
+from the Gray Cottage all this time because I knew that it was your wish
+that I should do so, and I have ever been guided by your wishes; but now
+Mrs. Blake is going away, and it would trouble me greatly if she were to
+leave without my bidding her good-bye.'
+
+'I think it would be far better, for her sake as well as yours, that
+there should be no special leave-taking.'
+
+'There I must differ from you, father dear,' returned Audrey gently. 'I
+could not bring myself to put such an affront on Cyril's mother. You
+know, I am still engaged to Cyril, and his mother can never be a
+stranger to me.'
+
+Then Dr. Ross regarded his daughter with a grieved expression.
+
+'My own child, if you would only be guided by me in this!--if you would
+give up this young man entirely----'
+
+Then she shook her head, and a grave, sweet smile came to her lips.
+
+'Would you have me break my word, father, because Cyril has broken his?
+But I do not blame him--he was obliged to do it; but no power on earth
+could compel me. Dear, why should we speak of this thing--you and I?
+When one's mind is made up, there is nothing more to be said. In
+everything else I will obey you as a child ought to obey her father. If
+you tell me that I must not go to the Gray Cottage to-morrow, you shall
+be obeyed, no matter what it may cost me; but'--pressing her lips to his
+forehead as she leant against him--'I do not think my father will be
+such a tyrant.'
+
+'I have no wish to tyrannise, Audrey,' returned Dr. Ross sadly. 'In all
+I have said, I have only considered your happiness. If you feel that
+there is this need to bid Mrs. Blake good-bye, I shall certainly not
+prevent you. I know I can trust my daughter. I have wished that the
+break should be final and conclusive, but it seems that you think
+otherwise.'
+
+'After to-morrow the separation will be as complete as you desire it to
+be.'
+
+'I am thankful to hear it. Of all women, I believe Mrs. Blake to be the
+most unsatisfactory. Audrey, my child, at the risk of paining you, I
+must say one word. There must be no written communication between her
+and you.'
+
+'No, father; I should not wish it. Any such letters would be
+impossible--at least, to me. Mollie will write to me sometimes, and I
+suppose I shall answer her letters; but she will not write often.'
+
+'I think I should tell her to write as seldom as possible. Mollie is a
+nice little girl, and we are all fond of her; but I should be inclined
+to doubt her discretion.'
+
+Then Audrey smiled faintly, and promised that Mollie's correspondence
+should be enclosed within strict limits. She knew well what her father
+meant. Mollie's letters would be overflowing with allusions to her
+brother; her simplicity would know no reticence.
+
+'I think you may trust me,' she said, after a moment's silence. 'Of
+course I understand what you mean.'
+
+'Then in that case we will not say any more about it,' replied her
+father. Trust her!--he knew that he could absolutely rely on her. When
+had she ever disappointed him? Of all girls, he had never known one so
+free from guile, so utterly transparent; there could be no shadow of
+doubt in his mind concerning her. And as he kissed her, and again wished
+her good-night, he blessed her in his heart for being such a daughter to
+him.
+
+Audrey had carried her point. Her visit to Mrs. Blake had appeared to
+her in the light of an imperative duty; but it may be doubted whether
+she looked forward to it with any feeling of pleasure.
+
+Up to the present time she had spoken as little as possible of Mrs.
+Blake. She had only said a word or two to Cyril, begging him to make
+peace with his mother; she had asked him to soften his heart to her.
+'With all her faults, I think no mother ever loved her son so well,' she
+had told him. 'It is not the highest love,' she had continued, 'since
+she has stooped to deceit and wrong for your sake. But it is not for you
+to judge her.' And she knew instinctively that her pleading had had
+weight with him.
+
+But though she had found words to defend her, she knew that Mrs. Blake
+could never be to her the friend she had been; and the shock of this
+discovery had been dreadful to her. She might still love and pity
+Cyril's mother; she might even be desirous of serving her; but the charm
+was broken, and, as far as Audrey's happiness was concerned, it might be
+well that the distance was widened between them.
+
+When she rose the next morning, she felt as though some difficult and
+painful duty lay before her; and as she walked towards the Cottage in
+the sunshine of an April afternoon, she told herself that her visit must
+not be a long one.
+
+A rush of bitter-sweet memories came over her as she pushed open the
+green gate for the last time, and Zack bounded to meet her. As she
+stooped to caress him, and he rested his glossy head against her with a
+dog's unreasoning adoration, she said in a low voice: 'Zack, old fellow,
+you will be glad to be with your master again.' And he whined, as though
+in joyful assent.
+
+There were no signs of either Mollie or Biddy, so she went up as
+usual--unannounced. The drawing-room door was open, and as her footsteps
+sounded in the passage Mrs. Blake came quietly out. She stepped back as
+she saw Audrey, and a slight colour came to her face.
+
+'It is you--at last!' she said abruptly; but there was no other
+greeting.
+
+'Yes, it is I,' returned Audrey, kissing her, and speaking in her usual
+tranquil manner. 'Do you think I should have let you leave Rutherford
+without bidding you good-bye!'
+
+Then Mrs. Blake's eyes had a dangerous gleam in them.
+
+'How could I know that they would let you come?' she said almost
+harshly. 'Am I not a pariah, an outcast from all respectable society?
+Does not Dr. Ross think so, as well as that excellent sister of yours?
+Do you know what my life has been during the last fortnight, since my
+boy left me? I have not dared to leave my own gate; if I were stifled
+for air, I would not venture to stir out, for fear of seeing a face I
+know.'
+
+'You need not have been afraid; no one in Rutherford has heard your
+story.'
+
+'But they may have heard it by this time. You forget that Dr.
+Charrington and Mr. Harcourt have been told. A man would never keep such
+a secret from his wife. Mrs. Charrington may have told it to half the
+masters' wives by this time; this is why I have begged Cyril to take me
+away, because my life is unendurable.'
+
+'You are going to him now,' observed Audrey soothingly, for she saw at
+once that Mrs. Blake was in one of her unhappy moods.
+
+She was thin and pale, and there was a sharpened look about her
+features, as though her inward excitement had worn her.
+
+'Yes, I am going to him; but what good will my life be to me? He has
+forgiven me--at least, he says so--but every hour of the day his sadness
+will be a reproach to me. When I see his unhappiness, how am I to bear
+it, when I know it is all my fault? Audrey, tell me one thing: you are
+still engaged to him?'
+
+'Yes,' returned Audrey very softly, 'I am still engaged to him.'
+
+'Captain Burnett told me so; he said you had refused to give him up. Oh,
+my darling, how I loved you when he said that! It was brave of you to
+say such words, but my boy deserves them. If ever a girl was worshipped,
+he worshipped you.'
+
+'Dear Mrs. Blake, I think we will not speak of that.'
+
+'Why should we not speak of it? It is the only thing that will comfort
+me, and him too. Ah, if you only loved him as he loves you, there would
+be no difficulty. Many a girl has given up more for her lover than you
+will ever be asked to give up, and has found her reward in a happy
+life.'
+
+'I will not pretend to misunderstand you,' returned Audrey simply; but
+she felt as she spoke that her father had been right to dread this
+interview. 'I know what you would insinuate--you would have me marry
+Cyril without my parents' consent.'
+
+'I would,' was Mrs. Blake's unabashed reply; 'and where would be the
+harm, Audrey? You are of age; you have your own money. No one has a
+right to prevent your marriage. Of course, your people would be angry at
+first, but after a time they would relent. My darling girl, think of it:
+would it not be a noble act of self-sacrifice? And it would save Cyril!'
+
+'He would not wish to save himself at the risk of my happiness and peace
+of mind,' she replied calmly. 'Dear Mrs. Blake, how strange that you
+should not know your own son better than that! Cyril would never marry
+me without my father's consent, neither would I marry him. Under such
+circumstances we should both be wretched.'
+
+'And you call that love?' returned Mrs. Blake with a sneer. 'I am
+different from you, Audrey. I would have given up home, country,
+everything, for the sake of the man I loved; that is why I hated Mat,
+because I was bound to him, and the other man was free. It just maddened
+me! What!' interrupting herself, 'are you going to leave me?'
+
+'It is useless to stay,' returned Audrey, in a pained voice. 'If you
+talk like this, it is far better for me to go.'
+
+Then Mrs. Blake burst into passionate tears, and clasped her in her
+arms.
+
+'Going! when I have never thanked you for your goodness to my boy; when
+I have never told you how dearly I have loved you for it! Audrey,
+forgive me, and stay with me a little, and I will try not to talk so
+wildly. It makes me feel better only to look at you--and you used to
+love me a little.'
+
+Then very reluctantly Audrey suffered herself to be persuaded, and to
+remain for another half-hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+MOLLIE GOES INTO EXILE
+
+     'There are some natures that cannot unfold under pressure, or in
+     the presence of unregarding power. Hers was one. They require a
+     clear space round them, the removal of everything which may
+     overmaster them, and constant delicate attention.'--MARK
+     RUTHERFORD.
+
+
+Audrey had no cause to regret her concession. Mrs. Blake quieted down
+the moment she resumed her seat; and though the remainder of her
+conversation concerned herself and Cyril, she did not venture again on
+any dangerous allusion.
+
+It was only when Audrey said that she must really go, as she had
+promised her mother to be back by tea-time, that she made an attempt to
+coax her into sending Cyril a message; but Audrey's strong sense of
+honour made her proof against this temptation. She would send him no
+message at all. Even if she thought it right to do so, how could she
+rely on Mrs. Blake's veracity? how could she be sure that it might not
+be delivered with annotations from her own fertile brain?
+
+'But you will at least send him your love?' pleaded Mrs. Blake.
+
+'There is no need for me to send him that,' returned Audrey with rising
+colour. 'Indeed, there is no need of any message at all: Cyril and I
+understand each other.'
+
+And then Mrs. Blake cried a little and called her a hard-hearted girl,
+but relented the next minute, and kissed her affectionately.
+
+'You will tell Mollie to come to me as usual to-morrow?' were Audrey's
+parting words, and Mrs. Blake nodded assent.
+
+As Audrey opened the green gate some impulse made her look back. Mrs.
+Blake was still on the threshold, watching her, and her large dark eyes
+were full of tears. There was something pathetic in her appearance. With
+a sudden impulse, for which she was unable to account, Audrey went back
+and gave her another kiss.
+
+'We do not know when we shall meet again,' she said in a low voice. 'Try
+to be as happy as you can, and to make him happy too.'
+
+She was glad that it was over, she told herself, as she walked back to
+Woodcote; nevertheless, she could not shake off a certain sense of
+depression. That dear Gray Cottage--how she had grown to love it, and
+what happy hours she had passed there, sitting by that window and
+watching the pigeons fluttering among the arches! Her heart was soft
+towards the woman she had left. Could she help it, she thought, if her
+moral sense were blunted and distorted? There was something defective
+and warped in her nature--something that seemed to make her less
+accountable than other people. Truth was not dear to her, or her
+marriage-vows sacred in her eyes. How came it that she and Matthew
+O'Brien should have a son like Cyril? Audrey's girlish brains grew
+confused over questions that might well baffle a psychologist; she could
+make nothing of them.
+
+Mollie came to her the next morning with her eyes swollen with crying.
+
+'Oh, dear Miss Ross!' she exclaimed, the moment she entered the room,
+'do you know mamma says that we are going away to-morrow? I thought it
+was to be next week, and Biddy thought so too; but mamma says that Cyril
+is all alone in the lodgings, and that we ought to go to him at once.
+Biddy and she are packing up the books and things, and mamma seemed to
+think that I ought to have remained to help her; but I told her that I
+must--I must say-good-bye to my dear, dear Miss Ross;' and here Mollie
+gave her a low-spirited hug.
+
+'My dear Mollie,' returned Audrey kindly, 'I have arranged that already
+with your mother, and you are to spend the whole morning with me. We
+will not do any lessons; I can see you are not fit for them. And it is
+such a lovely morning. We will go in the garden, and sit on that nice
+sunny seat overlooking Deep-water Chine. Do you remember our voyage
+there, and how contemptuous you were about the scenery?' but this
+allusion to one of the happiest days she had ever spent in her young
+life only brought on a fresh burst of grief.
+
+Poor Mollie was broken-hearted at the idea of leaving her friend, and it
+was a long time before Audrey could induce her to look at things in a
+less lugubrious light. Michael, prowling about with his cigarette, and
+followed closely by his short-legged favourite, came upon them sitting
+hand-in-hand on a bench near the pond; but he was careful not to betray
+his presence, and he called off Booty rather sternly when the
+affectionate little animal showed some disposition to join his friends.
+Neither of them saw him. Audrey was talking earnestly, but he only heard
+a fragment of what she was saying.
+
+'So you see, dear Mollie,' she went on, in a soft, persuasive voice,
+'that you will be as great a comfort to me when you are away as you have
+been here. When I think of you all, I shall say to myself: "Mollie is
+taking care of them."'
+
+'Yes, I see; and indeed, indeed I will try to do my best for Cyril and
+mamma,' replied Mollie, with a sob. 'I know how unhappy poor Cyril is;
+and mamma will not be the comfort to him that she used to be. Is it not
+sad to think of it, Miss Ross? Mamma sometimes shows me his letters--she
+always did, you know--but somehow they seem so different. I wonder
+sometimes if she notices the change in them; but she never says so. He
+does not want her to come up to London--one can see that so plainly--he
+keeps begging her to be patient, and give him time to settle things. But
+you know mamma: she is always in such a hurry--she never can wait for
+anything,' finished Mollie, in her artless way.
+
+Audrey suppressed a smile. Mrs. Blake's children certainly read her
+truly; but with all her faults they loved her well. Perhaps Kester had
+stood aloof from her most; but Mollie had always been devoted to her
+mother.
+
+'You will miss the country, of course,' went on Audrey cheerfully; 'but
+London has its charms. You must get your brother to take you in the
+parks and Kensington Gardens; you must tell him that you and Zack want
+exercise, and then he will not refuse.'
+
+'Mamma will walk with me,' returned Mollie disconsolately. 'She is very
+fond of crowded streets and shops; she will want me to go with her, and
+then we shall be obliged to leave Zack at home, for fear he should be
+lost. Oh, I know all about it!' continued Mollie, with a sigh. 'I shall
+be far too tired to walk with Cyril, even if he asked me; but he would
+not, because he knows mamma would be hurt: she always likes him to ask
+her.'
+
+'Never mind,' replied Audrey, changing the subject abruptly. 'Remember,
+Mollie, we can only do our best for people, and leave all the rest. I am
+sure that in a thousand ways you will be a comfort to them. You have
+always been their thoughtful little housekeeper, and you can be that
+still. You can keep the place bright and cheery, and make it look as
+home-like as possible. And, Mollie, I want you to do something; but it
+is to be a secret between you and me, and no one--no one'--repeating the
+word emphatically--'is to know about it.'
+
+And Mollie promised faithfully to hold her tongue.
+
+'Your mother is passionately fond of flowers.' (But Audrey, in her
+heart, knew someone else loved them too.) 'I want you to lay out this
+prudently and by degrees;' and she slipped a sovereign into Mollie's
+hand. 'Flowers are so plentiful in London, and you can always have a
+nice fresh bunch for the breakfast-table. I remember your mother once
+saying she would go without food to buy flowers. When I think you have
+come to an end of the money, I shall send you some more.'
+
+'But if anyone asks me who bought them,' asked Mollie, with one of her
+wide-open glances, 'what can I say then, Miss Ross?'
+
+'Say that you have bought them with your own money--for it is your
+money, Mollie; and if you would rather buy gloves with it, you are
+welcome to do so.'
+
+But Mollie protested eagerly that she would far rather buy flowers.
+
+'Cyril is so fond of them,' she added innocently, 'and I shall always
+take care to have a good-sized bunch on his writing-table. But what
+shall I do about lessons, Miss Ross?' she continued, when this point was
+settled. 'I am getting on so beautifully with French and music, and it
+will be such a pity to lose it all. I asked mamma the other evening, and
+she said she was sure she did not know; she might help me with my
+French, but she was afraid Cyril could not afford music-lessons.
+Besides, there would be the piano to hire; for of course I must
+practise. Oh dear! I don't see how I am to get on!' with another big
+sigh.
+
+'I think we must leave all that for the present, dear Mollie,' replied
+Audrey, rather sorrowfully. 'One needs a great deal of faith when things
+go crooked. Keep up by yourself as well as you can, and leave the music
+alone for a little. By and by, when you think he can bear it, you might
+speak to your brother; but if he cannot afford it----'
+
+Audrey stopped. Michael's generosity must not be taxed any further; but
+she had money of her own, and nothing would please her more than to
+spend a little on Mollie's education. Would her father allow it? she
+wondered.
+
+'I think we must leave this question for the present, Mollie,' she said,
+in her decided way. 'Make up your mind not to trouble about it for a
+month or two.'
+
+And Mollie, with her usual sweet unselfishness, agreed to this.
+
+Audrey sent her away cheered, and a good deal comforted, at receiving
+her dear Miss Ross's permission to write long letters.
+
+'I don't mind how long they are,' Audrey had observed, with an indulgent
+smile; 'but you must not write too often, neither must you expect to
+hear from me always in return. My letters will be very few, dear Mollie,
+and they are only for your own eyes--remember that.' And when Mollie had
+promised this with some reluctance, the gong sounded for luncheon, and
+Audrey was obliged to dismiss her a little hurriedly.
+
+Audrey was surprised to find how much she missed her favourite. Mollie's
+lessons had occupied the greater part of her mornings, and lately this
+occupation had been a boon to her.
+
+Audrey had never loved idleness, but now she loathed it; her girlish
+employments no longer satisfied her. She made wider margins for her
+activity, and schemed with an anxiety that looked like restlessness how
+she might fill up the day.
+
+Perhaps her happiest hours, after Mollie left her, were spent in the
+Hillside nursery, playing with her baby-nephew. Geraldine noticed with
+secret satisfaction that her boy was becoming an engrossing interest to
+his young aunt.
+
+'I am sure he knows you, Audrey,' she would say. 'Look how he stretches
+out his dear little arms and coos to you to take him! Go to Aunt Audrey,
+my precious!' and Geraldine would place him in her sister's arms as
+though she loved to see them together.
+
+Geraldine had certain fine instincts of her own. Her womanly intuition
+told her that nothing could be more healing than the touch of those baby
+fingers. When Audrey sat down opposite to her, with her nephew sprawling
+on her lap, and kicking up his pink toes in a baby's aimless fashion,
+her face always looked happier, and a more contented look came into her
+eyes.
+
+'You are very like your mother, Leonard,' she would say to him: 'but I
+do not believe that you will ever be as handsome.'
+
+Baby's gurgling answer was no doubt rich with infantile wisdom, if he
+could only have couched it in mortal language. But, all the same, he was
+fulfilling his mission. Audrey felt somehow as though things must come
+right some day when baby gripped her finger and held it fast, or else
+tangled her hair. 'You are a happy woman, Gage,' she said one day; but
+she was a little sorry that she made the remark when Geraldine got up
+quickly and kissed her, with tears in her eyes.
+
+'You will be happy, too, some day, my darling,' she said very tenderly.
+But to this Audrey made no reply.
+
+Mollie was faithful to her compact, and did not write for three whole
+weeks. The school had reassembled by that time, and a tall, pale young
+man with spectacles filled Cyril's place at table. Audrey took very
+little notice of him. When Michael was there, she talked to him; but she
+found any conversation with the new-comer almost impossible.
+
+'It hurts me to see him there,' she said once to her mother, and her lip
+quivered as she spoke. And of course her mother understood her.
+
+'Yes, dear, it is very hard; your father was only saying so last night.
+I think he notices how silent you are at luncheon. Mr. Gisbourne is
+certainly not prepossessing--not like our dear Cyril; but your father
+says he is an excellent fellow.'
+
+'I think I shall change my place at table, mother. I shall sit between
+you and father. That is, if you do not mind,' she added, with ready
+courtesy.
+
+'My love, as though I should mind! And I am sure your father will be
+delighted to have you. He was only speaking of you an hour ago. He
+thinks you are behaving so well, Audrey, and so does Percival. Percival
+declared that he was quite proud of you at the Charringtons' "at home";
+that it must have been such an ordeal for you to meet all those people.
+A girl in your position is generally so sensitive; but he told me that
+even Geraldine could not have been more dignified and at her ease.'
+
+'That is high praise from Percival,' returned Audrey, smiling. 'He
+thinks Gage's manners are perfection--and so they are; but, mother, he
+need not have praised me so much. The people were nothing to me--I
+hardly thought of them at all. I was only remembering the last time I
+was there, and how Cyril was with me; it was the saddest evening I have
+spent yet.'
+
+And then she sighed and disengaged herself from her mother's embrace.
+
+'Don't let us talk of it, mother dear; one can bear things better if one
+does not speak of them. I am going to drive with Gage now, and perhaps
+she will keep me to dinner;' and then she went quickly away.
+
+After all, it was better to do something than to waste her time in
+complaining: it was seldom that she allowed herself to speak of her
+feelings even to her mother, and if she suffered a word or two to escape
+her, she always reproached herself afterwards for her weakness.
+
+When Mollie's letter arrived the next day she left it unopened until she
+was in her own room. Michael was up in town, as usual. He rarely spent
+more than a few days together at Woodcote now. Audrey did not regret his
+absence as she would otherwise have done, because she knew he would be
+with Cyril.
+
+When her father glanced at her letter she said quietly that it was from
+Mollie, and then he made no further observation.
+
+But when she was in her own room she opened it somewhat eagerly. 'Dear
+little Mollie! I never thought I should miss her quite so much,' she
+thought.
+
+Evidently Mollie had taken a long time to write that letter; it had been
+commenced two days after her arrival in London, and it had not been
+completed until now.
+
+The first two or three pages, written in Mollie's girlish angular
+handwriting, were filled with plaintive lamentations over her enforced
+exile and separation from her dear Miss Ross; and here and there a
+bleared word showed touchingly where a great tear had rolled down and
+blotted the page; but the next entry, written a few days afterwards,
+showed some signs that the prospect had brightened a little. One passage
+gave great pleasure to Audrey:
+
+'Mamma likes our lodgings excessively, and though I shall never love any
+place like our dear Gray Cottage, they are really very nice; indeed,
+they are better than any lodgings we have been in yet. Mamma says she
+never saw rooms so well furnished; the carpets and papers are rather
+ugly, and I cannot say much for the curtains; but there is a delicious
+couch--one of those soft, springy ones that are so comfortable, rather
+like the one in the Woodcote drawing-room, and two delightfully easy
+chairs.
+
+'Then, in the little room we call Cyril's study, there is really a very
+handsome writing-table, with one of those green reading-lamps that Dr.
+Ross always uses, and a nice little secretaire for papers. Mamma was so
+charmed when she saw that; she told Cyril that he only wanted a few
+stained shelves to hold his books, and that then he would be as snug as
+possible. I thought Cyril looked a little queer when she said that, and
+when she exclaimed at the softness of the couch I saw such an odd smile
+on his face. I fancy he must have bought it himself, and that he does
+not wish mamma to know it.' ('Oh, you little goose!' observed Audrey,
+when she came to this; but her eyes were very bright as she went on with
+the letter.)
+
+'There were such quantities of flowers and plants about the room when we
+arrived, and the most beautiful tea set out on the big round table.
+Mamma laughed, and said Cyril was very extravagant to provide such
+luxuries; but he told her he had had nothing to do with it, and he did
+not seem to enjoy anything.
+
+'I am afraid he works too hard. Mamma is beginning to say that she might
+as well have remained in Rutherford, for all she sees of him; but I know
+she does not mean it, for she is as happy as possible.
+
+'Cyril never gets home until half-past six, and then we have tea. His
+pupil comes to him at eight for two hours. I think Zack has the best of
+it. Cyril always takes him out for a long walk before breakfast. I
+should like to go with them, but I think Cyril prefers going alone. He
+only walks with mamma on Sunday afternoon, and then he comes in looking
+so tired. He often falls asleep when he sits down. I never remember his
+ever doing such a thing before; but mamma says she is sure that he
+sleeps badly, though he will never own to it. Cyril never did like to be
+questioned about himself.
+
+'We see Captain Burnett sometimes, and Cyril says he often meets him on
+his way home. One day Captain Burnett asked me if I should like to see
+some pictures, and of course I said yes. We drove such a long way in a
+hansom, and I did so enjoy seeing all those beautiful pictures. Captain
+Burnett was kind; he explained everything to me, and when he thought I
+was tired he took me to a grand place, where we had ices and coffee.
+
+'He asked me a great many questions, and when I told him that I had no
+one to teach me now I had left my dear Miss Ross, he looked very grave.
+He wanted to know if mamma did not help me at all, and I was obliged to
+confess that the French books were still unopened; and then he looked
+grave again and said, "Poor little thing!" as though he were sorry for
+me.
+
+'Well, was it not strange?--the very next night Cyril began talking to
+mamma about it. He told her that now Kester was away they ought to be
+able to afford to give me a good education, that they were not poorer
+than they had been at Rutherford, and that something must be done at
+once.
+
+'Cyril spoke as though he thought mamma was to blame, and then mamma
+cried, as she always does if Cyril finds fault with her; but the very
+next day she went out alone, and in the evening she told Cyril that she
+had found a very good school close by our lodgings, where they had
+excellent masters, and that she had arranged that I was to go there four
+times a week to take French, German, and music lessons. I could see
+Cyril was pleased, though he said very little, but by and by he asked me
+what I should do about a piano, and mamma suggested that we should hire
+one. Is this not nice, my dear Miss Ross, and is not Cyril a darling for
+thinking of everything so nicely?'
+
+'Ah, Mollie, I am afraid you are a sad goose!' was Audrey's inward
+ejaculation at this point, and there was a smile on her lips as she
+finished the letter.
+
+Michael was fulfilling his promise nobly. Audrey knew him well enough to
+be sure that those meetings with Cyril were by no means accidental.
+'Whatsoever thou doest, do it with thy might,' was a precept literally
+obeyed by Michael Burnett. When he held out that right hand of
+fellowship to his rival, there was no sense of grudging in his mind. If
+a cheery word or two would brighten Cyril's day, and make his hard life
+a little less unendurable, Michael would speak that word at the cost of
+any inconvenience to himself. Audrey may be forgiven if she cherished
+the notion that Michael's frequent visits to London were undertaken more
+for Cyril's benefit than his own; and if Michael could have given a
+somewhat different version of his motives, he kept all such
+interpretation to himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+AUDREY RECEIVES A TELEGRAM
+
+     'One fourth of life is intelligible, the other three-fourths is
+     unintelligible darkness; and our earliest duty is to cultivate the
+     habit of not looking round the corner.'--MARK RUTHERFORD.
+
+     'Thou shalt lose thy life, and find it; thou shalt boldly cast it
+         forth;
+     And then back again receiving, know it in its endless worth.'
+
+                                               ARCHBISHOP TRENCH.
+
+
+Audrey thought it was the longest summer term that she had ever known;
+never in her life had weeks or months passed so slowly.
+
+To all outward appearance she was well and cheerful, and spent her time
+much as usual--helping her mother and visiting her poor people in the
+morning, and in the afternoon attending cricket matches or playing
+tennis at the various garden-parties of the season. The nine days'
+wonder about the Blakes' sudden disappearance was over, and the
+Rutherford ladies no longer whispered strange tales into each other's
+ears--each more marvellous than the last. It was said and believed by
+more than one person that Audrey's engagement had been broken off
+because Dr. Ross had discovered that there was hereditary insanity in
+the Blake family; indeed, one lady--a notorious gossip, and who was
+somewhat deaf--was understood to say that she had heard Mrs. Blake was
+at that moment in a private lunatic asylum.
+
+That Audrey Ross did not take her broken engagement much to heart was
+the general opinion in Rutherford. Would a girl play tennis, dance, or
+organise picnics, they said, if she were languishing in
+heart-sickness?--and there was certainly no appearance of effort in the
+readiness with which Audrey responded to any plan that her young friends
+proposed. As they remarked, 'Audrey Ross was always up to fun.' But
+Michael Burnett could have told them a different story if they had asked
+him. Audrey's sweet, sound disposition made her peculiarly alive to a
+sense of duty.
+
+'One must think of other people, always and under all circumstances,'
+she had said to him when her trouble was fresh upon her, and he knew
+that she was only acting up to her words.
+
+She would play because other people wished to play, not because her
+heart was in it. During his brief visits to Woodcote they were always
+together, and more than once he told himself that he could see a great
+change in her. She had at times a tired, burdened look, as though weary
+thoughts were habitual to her. But she never spoke to him of Cyril, or
+questioned him in any way. He would tell her unasked about Mollie, and
+now and then he would drop a word casually about Cyril.
+
+'I met Blake the other day,' he would say. 'I think he looks better,
+though he says the hot weather tries him; he is getting on with his
+work, and appears to like it.' Or another time: 'I dined with Unwin last
+week; he and Blake seem to hit it off famously. Unwin says he has far
+more discrimination and intelligence than other young men of his age,
+and that for steadiness and application he might be fifty. But he thinks
+he ought to take more exercise; his hard work and the heat together are
+making him thin.'
+
+Audrey remembered this speech of Michael's, as, a month later on, she
+sat on the Whitby sands. She had yielded to Geraldine's persuasion to
+accompany them to the seaside. Dr. Ross and his wife were paying visits
+in Cumberland, Michael was in North Wales with an artist friend, and
+Audrey had accepted her sister's invitation very willingly.
+
+Both Percival and Geraldine were very kind to her, she thought. They let
+her wander about alone and do as she liked, and they were always ready
+to plan something for her enjoyment--a drive or a sail, or a day on the
+moors. Audrey liked being with them, and baby Leonard was more
+fascinating than ever; yet it may be doubted if she would not have been
+happier at Rutherford. The absence of all duties, of any settled
+employment, tried her. A holiday, to be thoroughly enjoyed, must be
+attended with a disengaged mind, and with a certain freedom from worry;
+and this was not possible with Audrey. She would talk to her sister
+cheerfully, or play with Leonard, and she was an intelligent companion
+for Mr. Harcourt when they took long walks together; but in her moments
+of solitude, when she roamed alone over the yellow sands with the fresh
+salt wind blowing in her face, her thoughts would be sad enough as she
+thought of Cyril in his hot London lodgings.
+
+'Oh, my darling, if you could only be with me and feel this wind!' she
+would think, with a great rush of pity and tenderness; 'if I could only
+take your place a little and bear things for you!' and the sense that
+she could do nothing for him would lie like a load on her heart.
+
+'I think Audrey is getting over her trouble,' Geraldine said one day to
+her husband. 'Baby is doing her good; and really, when she is playing
+with him she seems just like her dear old self.'
+
+'Of course she will get over it,' returned Mr. Harcourt impatiently;
+'all girls do. I tell you what, Jerry: when we get back to Hillside we
+will have Graham down to stop with us.'
+
+'Oh, did you mean Lionel Graham all the time?' returned Geraldine,
+opening her eyes very widely. 'Is he the man you always wanted for
+Audrey? He is nice, of course--all the Grahams are nice--but he is
+dreadfully ugly.'
+
+'Nonsense, my love! Graham ugly, with that fine head of his! I tell you
+the girl is lucky who gets such a clever fellow. I recollect he was
+rather struck with her last spring. We will have him down and see if
+they can take to each other.'
+
+'But, Percy dear, you forget Audrey declares she is still engaged to
+Cyril Blake.'
+
+'Stuff and nonsense!' replied her husband, waxing exceedingly irate at
+this remark. 'I wonder at you--I do indeed!--repeating anything so
+ridiculous! Has not Blake given her up?--and very proper of him,
+too--and has not your father forbidden her to have anything more to do
+with him? My love, with all my respect for your judgment, I must differ
+from you. Audrey is not the girl to propose anything so indelicate--so
+altogether wanting in propriety--as to thrust herself upon a man who
+very properly declines to marry her. No, no; we will have Graham down.
+He is a first-rate fellow, and when he makes up his mind to a thing, he
+sticks at nothing. That's the way to win a girl--eh, Jerry?' And
+Geraldine blushed beautifully as she recalled Percival's bold wooing.
+
+'Well, do as you like,' she said tranquilly; 'but I don't believe Audrey
+will look at him.' And then she made signs to the nurse to bring her the
+baby; and Mr. Harcourt forgot his match-making schemes as he played with
+his son and heir.
+
+Audrey was the only one who was glad when the time came for them to
+return to Rutherford: her mother's face was a delicious sight to her;
+and as she presided again at her little tea-table she gave vent to a
+fervent 'Oh, how glad I am to be at home again!'
+
+'That sounds as though you have not enjoyed your holiday, Audrey; and
+yet Geraldine was so pleased to have you.'
+
+'But I have enjoyed myself, mother dear. Whitby is beautiful, and I did
+just what I liked, and Gage and Percival could not have been kinder or
+more thoughtful; and then Leonard is such a darling!'
+
+'You look all the better for your change; but you are still a little
+thin, love,' returned her mother, scrutinising her daughter rather
+narrowly. But Audrey disclaimed this charge: if she were thin, it was
+because Percival had taken her such long walks, she declared. But she
+was not thin--she was very well; only she was tired of her idleness, and
+meant to work hard.
+
+'I wish Michael were at home,' she went on. 'He has returned from Wales,
+but he means to stay for a week or two in South Audley Street. Kester is
+with him. Home is never quite the same without Michael,' she finished,
+looking round her as though she missed something.
+
+Michael had really stayed up in London for Kester's sake; but he was
+glad of any excuse that kept him away from Woodcote. When Kester's visit
+was over, he went with him to Victoria, and saw him off. He had some
+business in Aldersgate Street, and he thought he might as well take a
+Circle train, and go on. Michael always hated business in the City--the
+noise of the crowded thoroughfares jarred on him--and he thought he
+might as well get it over. He had finished his business, and was walking
+down Cheapside, when, to his surprise, he saw Cyril Blake coming out of
+a shop. Cyril seemed equally surprised at this unexpected _rencontre_.
+
+'I know you haunt Cromwell and Exhibition Roads,' he said, in rather an
+amused tone; 'but I always understood you shunned the City.'
+
+'So I do; but one may have business there sometimes,' returned Michael,
+linking his arm in Cyril's; for the two had grown fast friends, in spite
+of the disparity in their ages. 'I suppose it would be inquisitive on my
+part to ask what brings you here at this time in the afternoon?'
+
+'Not at all. I have only been to my tailor's,' replied Cyril, smiling.
+'I am not a swell like you, and City prices suit my pocket better than
+West-End ones. I was feeling rather dilapidated, so, as Unwin dismissed
+me early this afternoon, I thought I would attend to my outer man.'
+
+'You would have been wiser to have run down to Teddington and had a pull
+up the river. You look as though you want fresh air, Blake. I don't know
+about your outer man, as you call it; but I must say you look uncommonly
+seedy.'
+
+'Do I? Oh, I am all right,' he added hastily. 'I have not been used to
+spend a summer in town. How did you get on in Worth Wales, Burnett? I
+was never there, but I hear the scenery is beautiful.'
+
+'So it is. You should see some of Jack Cooper's sketches; they would
+give an idea of the place;' and Michael launched into an enthusiastic
+description of a thunderstorm he had witnessed under Snowdon. 'I took
+Booty to pay his devoirs at the tomb of Bethgelert. On the whole, I
+think Booty enjoyed his trip as much as we did.'
+
+Michael had so much to say about his trip, that they found themselves on
+the platform before he had half finished. It was half-past five by this
+time, and a good many business men were returning home. The station was
+somewhat crowded, but as they piloted their way through the knots of
+passengers Michael still talked on. Cyril had listened at first with
+interest; he was becoming much attached to his new friend, and though
+his masculine undemonstrativeness forbade him to say much about his
+feelings, his gratitude to Michael was deep and intense, and amid his
+own troubles he had an unselfish satisfaction in thinking that, whatever
+his own future might be, Kester's was safe. By and by his attention
+began to flag; he was watching an old man who stood at a little distance
+from them at the edge of the platform. He was a very dirty old man, and
+at any other time his appearance would certainly not have inspired Cyril
+with the wish to look at him a second time; but he was attracted by his
+swaying, lurching movements, which would have conveyed to any practised
+eye that the old reprobate was in an advanced stage of intoxication.
+What if he were to lose his balance and fall over the edge of the
+platform? The down train was momentarily expected. Cyril could bear it
+no longer.
+
+'Excuse me, Burnett,' he said hastily; 'that old fellow looks as though
+he might topple over any minute;' and before Michael could understand
+what he meant, he had dived across the platform.
+
+The whistle of the advancing train sounded at that moment, and almost
+simultaneously there was a shriek of terror from some woman standing at
+the farther end.
+
+'Poor wretch! he has done for himself,' Michael heard someone say. 'He
+went clean over.'
+
+Michael was slightly short-sighted, and a crowd of people intercepted
+his view, and he could not at once make his way through them. He could
+not see Cyril, but the surging, excited throng all veering towards the
+end of the platform told him that some serious accident had occurred.
+
+Blake must have been an eyewitness of the whole thing, he thought, as he
+tried to elbow his way through horrified men and hysterical women. If he
+could only find him! And then a very stout man in a navvy's garb blocked
+up his passage.
+
+'Is the poor old man killed?' Michael asked; but he feared what the
+answer would be. Was the gray-headed sinner summoned in this terrible
+manner to the bar of his offended Judge?
+
+'Lord bless you, sir!' returned the man, 'he is as right as possible;
+the train did not touch him. It is the other poor fellow that is done
+for, I expect. Me and my mate have just got him out.'
+
+A sudden horrible, almost sickening sensation of fear came to Michael.
+
+'Oh, my God! not that, not that!' burst from his lips as he literally
+fought his way down the platform. 'Let me pass, sir! I believe I know
+him!' he cried hoarsely, and the man in pity to his white face drew
+back.
+
+There was a motionless figure lying on the bench at the other end,
+surrounded by porters and strangers. Michael darted towards it, but when
+he caught sight of the face he uttered a groan. Alas, alas! he knew it
+too well.
+
+'Give me place,' he said, almost fiercely; 'that dead man is my friend.'
+
+'He is not dead, Burnett,' observed a gentleman, who was supporting
+Cyril's head; 'but he is badly hurt, poor fellow! We must get him away
+at once.'
+
+'Thank Heaven it is you, Abercrombie!' returned Michael excitedly; 'he
+is safer with you than with any man alive.'
+
+But Dr. Abercrombie shook his head gravely.
+
+'My carriage is outside, and is at your service,' he said; 'and for the
+matter of that, so am I. Let me give these men directions how to move
+him.'
+
+Then Michael stood aside while the doctor issued his commands.
+
+Cyril had not regained full consciousness, but as Dr. Abercrombie placed
+himself beside him and applied remedies from time to time, a low moan
+now and then escaped from his lips.
+
+Michael, who had to sit with the coachman, thought that long drive would
+never end, and yet Dr. Abercrombie drove good horses. It seemed hours
+before they reached Mortimer Street, and the strain on his nerves made
+him look so ghastly as he went into the house to prepare Mrs. Blake,
+that she uttered a shriek as soon as she saw his face.
+
+'You have come to tell me my boy is dead!' she exclaimed, catching hold
+of him.
+
+'No, he is not dead; but he is badly hurt, Abercrombie says. Let me go,
+Mrs. Blake; they want my help to carry him in. Is there a room ready?
+Mollie, look after your mother;' and Michael sped on his sad errand.
+
+'Do not let anyone in, Burnett, while I examine him. Lock the door;' and
+Michael obeyed the doctor's orders, though an agonised voice outside
+entreated admittance.
+
+Michael thought the doctor's examination would never end; but by and by
+he came up to Michael and drew him aside.
+
+'Do you wish another opinion, Burnett?' he asked abruptly; 'but it is
+kinder to tell you that the thing is hopeless.'
+
+'Good heavens, Abercrombie! Do you mean he will not live?'
+
+'Only a few hours--he is hurt internally. They were both down on the
+rails, you know: I saw the whole thing; and he flung up the old man with
+one hand--I never saw anything so splendidly done--but the wheel of the
+engine caught him, and before they could stop the train the mischief was
+done.'
+
+'Will he suffer? Can nothing be done for him? Abercrombie, I would give
+half my fortune to save the life of that man.'
+
+'He will not suffer long,' returned Dr. Abercrombie kindly. He was a
+rough, hard-featured Scotchman, but no man had a better heart, as
+Michael knew. 'I will do all I can for him, Burnett, for his own sake as
+well as yours. I think he wants to speak to you, but he cannot talk
+much; it is agony to him.'
+
+And Michael stepped up to the bed. In the emergency he had regained his
+old calmness of manner, and as Cyril's eyes were fixed on his face, he
+bent over him and said gently:
+
+'Do not speak, my dear fellow; I know what you wish to say. I will
+telegraph for her at once.'
+
+Cyril's damp, cold hand closed over his.
+
+'Thanks, thanks! that is what I wanted. She would like it, and it will
+do no harm.'
+
+The last few words seemed intended for a question, and Michael answered
+without hesitation.
+
+'Harm! she would never forgive us if we did not send for her.'
+
+Then a faint light came into Cyril's eyes.
+
+'I hope for her sake I shall not suffer; but it will soon be over: I
+heard him say so.' He seemed to speak with difficulty. 'Don't look so
+sorry about it, Burnett; it is much better so, and the poor old man was
+saved. Oh!'
+
+That expression of pain wrung unwillingly from his lips drew the doctor
+to him, and he made a sign to Michael to leave them.
+
+An hour later Audrey received the following telegram:
+
+     'An accident. Cyril Blake badly hurt. Condition critical. Come at
+     once. Will meet the last train at King's Cross.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+'INASMUCH'
+
+     'He, being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled a long
+     time.'--WISDOM OF SOLOMON.
+
+
+All her life long Audrey never forgot that long weary journey. The
+lateness of the hour compelled her to take a circuitous route to London.
+Dr. Ross accompanied her part of the way, and did not leave her until he
+placed her under the care of the guard, who promised to keep the
+compartment for her.
+
+'You will be all right now, Audrey,' he said, with a poor attempt at
+cheerfulness. 'I have tipped the guard half-a-crown--a piece of
+extravagance on my part, I believe, as you only stop once between this
+and King's Cross, and Michael will meet you at the other end. God bless
+you, my child!' he continued, with deeper feeling, as the train began to
+move. 'Give my love to Cyril, and try and trust him to his Heavenly
+Father.'
+
+'I will try, dear father,' was Audrey's answer.
+
+And then she leant back on her seat and attempted to pray; but she only
+found herself repeating over and over again the same petition--that she
+might be in time; for Michael's message, so carefully worded, had read
+to her like Cyril's death-warrant. 'He will die,' she had said with
+tearless eyes to her father, as she had carried him the telegram.
+
+It was eleven o'clock before she reached King's Cross; but before the
+train stopped she could see Michael standing alone under a gas-lamp, and
+before he discerned her she was beside him.
+
+'Am I in time, Michael?'
+
+Then he started, and drew her hand through his arm.
+
+'Quite in time, dear; he has still a few hours to live.'
+
+For he saw at once that she was prepared for the worst.
+
+'That is well,' she replied calmly; 'let us go.'
+
+And then Michael handed her into the hansom.
+
+How pale she was, he thought, and how sad those dear gray eyes looked,
+as she turned to him and asked that question that he so dreaded to hear!
+
+'We are out of the station now, and I can hear better. What was the
+accident, Michael? How did it all happen? Tell me everything, please.'
+
+Then, as far as he was able, he told her all, and she heard him very
+quietly, though once he felt the shudder that passed through her when
+she first understood the nature of the terrible thing that had happened.
+
+'Abercrombie saw it all from the first,' he went on; 'he said he never
+saw anything so splendidly done. Not a man in a thousand would have
+ventured it. What did I tell you, Audrey?--that Blake was just the
+fellow to win the Victoria Cross.'
+
+'He was very brave,' she murmured; but she trembled all over as she
+spoke.
+
+'He was more than brave. What was my action in Zululand compared to his?
+He stepped into the jaws of death quietly, and with his eyes opened, for
+he must have known that two could not have been saved. He has given his
+noble life for a wretched worthless one. It sounds inhuman to say it,
+but who would have mourned if that poor old man had been swept away?
+Would it not have been better if he had left him to his fate?'
+
+'You must not say that!' returned Audrey. And now the tears were running
+down her face. 'It is this that makes it so noble, so Christ-like--a
+life laid down out of love and pity for the worthless. My brave Cyril!
+Who is more fit to go than he? Ah, I knew him so well; he is very
+reserved; he is not one to speak of religion--very few young men do; he
+never liked to do so; but in a simple, manly way he has tried to live
+it. I always knew he was good. Yes, Michael, it was better for him to
+give up his fresh young life than for that old man to die in his sins.'
+
+He could not steady his voice to answer her. Would any other girl have
+taken it in this way? He felt there were depths in her nature that he
+had not fathomed yet. The nobleness of the action seemed to lift her up
+out of her grief. The heroic death was a fit ending to that brave life,
+short as it was.
+
+There were a few minutes' silence, during which she wept quietly, and
+then she roused herself to ask after Mrs. Blake. A deeper shade passed
+over Michael's face as she put the question.
+
+'Poor soul!' he returned in a grieved voice; 'I fear it will go very
+hardly with her. Abercrombie tried to say a word to her about her son's
+hopeless condition, but she dropped at his feet like a dead thing. I had
+to leave him with her, and go back to poor Blake, as he was asking for
+her. I am afraid Abercrombie had to be very stern with her, for by and
+by she crept in quietly enough, and sat down beside him. When I left he
+was talking to her, but I do not believe that she understood a word that
+he said; she looks as though she has been turned to stone.'
+
+Audrey sighed, and a moment afterwards she said a little wearily:
+
+'Oh, how slowly we are going! Shall we ever be there?'
+
+Then Michael took her hand gently in his; she was so patient, so good:
+if only he could comfort her!
+
+'We have a very fast horse, and a capital driver. Yes, we shall be there
+soon now. Your journey must have tired you, dear. I wish someone could
+have come with you.'
+
+'Father wanted to do so, but I told him I would rather be alone. Never
+mind about me, Michael; what does it matter if I am tired or not? If I
+could only be with him! but the time is passing so!' Then, as she saw
+the pained look on Michael's face, she said in a low voice: 'Don't be
+too sorry for me; it is hard--very hard--but we must only think of him;'
+and then she did not speak again until the hansom stopped.
+
+Mollie was on the watch, for the door opened before they had alighted;
+but as she flung her arms round Audrey with a tearful welcome, the
+latter gently disengaged herself.
+
+'Do not keep me, dear Mollie; let me go to him.'
+
+'Yes, you shall go to him, dear Miss Ross; he is a little better just
+now; at least, he does not suffer so much. I wish mamma could speak to
+him, but she only sits there sighing as though her heart would break,
+and it must be so sad for Cyril to hear it. That is the door; you can go
+in;' and Audrey needed no more.
+
+A tall, gray-haired man stood aside to let her pass, but it may be
+doubted whether she even saw him, any more than she noticed that rigid
+figure at the foot of the bed. Audrey saw nothing but that death-like
+face on the pillow, and the glad light in Cyril's eyes, as she went
+straight to him, and kneeling down beside him, kissed his lips.
+
+'My poor Cyril! My poor, dear Cyril!' she said in a voice that was
+heavenly in its sweetness to him.
+
+'No, not poor now,' he whispered, as he moved his head until it rested
+on her breast. 'My darling, it is worth even this to see you again. If
+you could only know what these five months have been to me!'
+
+He spoke in a voice so low and feeble that only she could hear him. Mrs.
+Blake did not move as Audrey entered; her eyes were fixed on her boy's
+face. They seemed the only living things about her. From time to time,
+even in his awful suffering, he had struggled to say a word to her, but
+she had scarcely answered him, though now and then a low moan issued
+from her lips.
+
+'I could not have borne it much longer,' he went on, as in her mute
+sympathy Audrey rested her face against his cold, damp forehead; 'the
+life was killing me. How was a man to live without hope? And I had no
+hope.'
+
+'I should always have loved you,' she said simply.
+
+'Yes, my own faithful one; but even your love, precious as it was, could
+not have consoled me for the unnatural loneliness that was my lot. The
+very knowledge that you were mine and that I could never claim you
+seemed to add a deep bitterness to my grief. Do not let us speak of that
+dreary time, my darling; it is gone now, and it is come to this: that I
+thank God that I lie here with only a few hours to live.'
+
+'Oh, Cyril! for your mother's sake, do not say this!'
+
+'She does not hear us,' he replied; 'she seems to take no notice of
+anything. Poor, dear mother! I am sorry for her!'
+
+'And not for me!' Audrey's unselfishness could not refrain from that low
+cry.
+
+'No, not for you,' he returned tenderly. 'It is better, far better, for
+you, my darling, that things are ending thus. Why should you have wasted
+your sweet life for me, Audrey? I could not have borne the sacrifice. In
+a little while I should have written to you, and begged you to give me
+up.'
+
+'There would have been no use in writing such a letter.'
+
+Then he smiled happily, as though even on his dying bed it gave him
+pleasure to hear that.
+
+'Cyril, you must not talk; Michael says it hurts you.'
+
+'No, not quite so much now; somehow the pain seems easier, and it is
+such a relief to say all this. Does it make you unhappy, darling?'
+
+'Not if it gives you comfort; you may say anything--anything--to me.'
+
+'I only wanted to tell you that it is all right. I am glad I did it. I
+have not done much for Him all my life,' dropping his voice reverently,
+and she knew what he meant. '"Inasmuch"--how does that go on, Audrey?'
+
+Then she softly repeated the words:
+
+'"Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these, My brethren, ye
+have done it unto _Me_."'
+
+'Well, He did more than that for us. What was a moment's pain compared
+with His? Audrey, do you think someone could say a prayer?'
+
+Then Audrey suggested that they should send for Michael, and he came at
+once.
+
+Cyril listened with his eyes closed; but his lips moved, and Audrey's
+hand was in his all the time. He seemed a little exhausted after this,
+and Dr. Abercrombie gave him some restorative.
+
+Michael did not leave the room for long after this. He came in from time
+to time to see if he were wanted. But there was very little for anyone
+to do. The flame of life was flickering to its close, and the practised
+eye of the physician knew that in another hour or two all would be over.
+
+'You can go in,' he said to Mollie; 'nothing makes any difference now.'
+
+Then Mollie crept to her brother's side.
+
+Cyril lay very quiet; but by and by he roused himself to send a message
+to Kester. And then he spoke of his father.
+
+'Will you give him my love?' he said. 'I wanted to see more of him. I
+think if I had only known him better I could have loved him.'
+
+'I will tell him this, dear Cyril.'
+
+'Thank you.'
+
+And then he closed his eyes again. And as Audrey bent over him, it
+seemed to her as though his face were almost perfect in that stillness.
+Presently he asked his mother to come closer, and she at once obeyed
+him.
+
+'Mother,' he said pleadingly, 'you will try to give me up?'
+
+But she made a gesture of dissent.
+
+'I cannot; I cannot, Cyril! I do not believe I can live without you.'
+
+'You have Mollie and Kester,' he panted, for her suppressed agitation
+evidently disturbed him. 'Mother, I know what we have been to each
+other.'
+
+Then she fell on her knees with a bitter cry.
+
+'Cyril, it is all my fault that you are lying there. Your mother has
+killed you. It would not have happened but for me. My boy! my boy! I
+cannot, I will not live, without you!'
+
+'Mother.'
+
+But Michael saw he could bear no more, and at a sign from the doctor he
+raised the unhappy woman and led her from the room.
+
+'It is too much for them both,' he said to Biddy; 'neither of them can
+bear it.'
+
+And then he saw the old woman take her mistress in her arms and cry over
+her like a child.
+
+'Biddy, I shall die too. You will bury me in my boy's grave--my boy and
+me together.'
+
+But Michael heard no more. He went back to the room just as Cyril was
+asking for him.
+
+'Burnett, will you say good-bye?' he gasped. 'I think it will not be
+long now, and I have said good-bye to Mollie. Oh! this pain, doctor--it
+has come back again. Can you do anything for me?'
+
+But Dr. Abercrombie shook his head sorrowfully.
+
+'Never mind, then; it must be borne. Burnett, God bless you for all you
+have done! You will be good to her, I know'--with a glance at his
+betrothed.
+
+'I will,' returned Michael Burnett.
+
+And then the two men grasped hands.
+
+Cyril hardly spoke after this--his pain was too intense. But once Audrey
+saw his eyes rest on her ring. 'It is still there,' she heard him
+murmur. And another time he made signs that she should lay his head on
+her shoulder.
+
+'I want to die so,' he whispered. And a little later he asked her to
+kiss him again.
+
+He lay so quiet now that they thought he was going, and Michael knelt
+down by the bed and offered up the commendatory prayer. But once more
+the dark eyes opened: there was a strange, unearthly light in them.
+
+'Inasmuch,' he said; 'Inasmuch----'
+
+His head fell back a little heavily, and the soul of Cyril Blake was
+with its God.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'He does not suffer now,' were Audrey's first words, as she laid him
+gently down and gave her last solemn kiss. When Michael put his arm
+round her and led her gently away, she offered no resistance.
+
+'I must leave you for a little while, dear,' he said, as he stood beside
+her a moment; 'but I will send Mollie to you.'
+
+Then she begged that she might be left alone.
+
+'Her mother will want her; and I would rather, much rather, be alone.'
+
+Then, when Michael had gone, she laid her head down on Cyril's
+writing-table, and the tears had their way. Until now she had not
+thought of herself; but now it seemed to her as though the world had
+grown suddenly cold and dark. He had loved her--oh, how well he had
+loved her!--and now the Divine will had taken him from her!
+
+But Audrey wept less for herself than for that bright young life cut off
+so mysteriously in its early bloom, before its youthful promise had come
+to maturity. But as her tears flowed, certain words she had often read
+recurred to her mind, and comforted her:
+
+'For honourable age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor
+that is measured by number of years.
+
+'But wisdom is the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'For his soul pleased the Lord: therefore hasted He to take him away
+from the wicked.'
+
+Certainly there was no bitterness in Audrey's grief when, a few hours
+later, she stood with Michael beside that still form. How beautiful her
+Cyril looked! she thought; and even Michael marvelled as he gazed at
+him. He lay there like a young knight who had fallen in his maiden
+fight, and who in death was still a conqueror. The living man who stood
+there could almost have envied him, he was so worn and jaded with the
+battle of life.
+
+'How peacefully he sleeps!' he said, in a moved voice; 'he looks as
+though he were dreaming happily, Audrey. Surely it will comfort his
+mother to see him like this!'
+
+'She will not see him yet; Biddy says she is too ill. We must give her
+time to recover herself--the blow has been so awfully sudden. Yes, he
+looks happy; my darling sleeps well. Did you hear what he said,
+Michael?--that he was glad that he lay there; that it was all as it
+should be? If ever a man yielded his life willingly, Cyril did!'
+
+'His life was so hard, you see.'
+
+'Yes; but he would have given it all the same if his happiness had been
+perfect. He would not have stood by and seen even a beggar perish, he
+was so generous. You would have done it yourself, Michael.'
+
+'I do not know,' he returned with a shudder; 'I would not answer for
+myself: it was such an awful death!'
+
+'But I can answer for you,' she replied calmly: 'you would have done it
+if he had not been beforehand.'
+
+And then she moved away from him, and began to arrange the few flowers
+that the people of the house had sent up to her.
+
+Michael waited until she had finished. She was exhausted and weary, he
+knew, and he was anxious to take her to South Audley Street, where her
+mother would be awaiting them. Michael had telegraphed to her earlier in
+the day, and the answer had come that she was already on her way.
+
+Audrey made an attempt to see Mrs. Blake before she left, but Biddy
+would not admit her.
+
+'It will drive my mistress crazy to see anyone,' she said. 'She has
+quieted down a bit, and the doctor has given me some stuff to make her
+sleep; and his orders were that I was to keep her as still as possible.'
+And after this Audrey dared not persist.
+
+But it grieved her to leave poor Mollie in that desolate house, the girl
+seemed so utterly alone; but Michael said he had spoken to the woman of
+the house, and that she had promised to look after her.
+
+'We ought not to take her with us, dear Audrey,' he said gently, but
+firmly; 'it is her duty to stay with her mother.' And Audrey acquiesced
+a little reluctantly.
+
+Mrs. Ross cried abundantly as she took Audrey in her arms; her motherly
+soul was filled with pity for her girl. But Audrey had no more tears to
+shed.
+
+'Mother,' she said pleadingly, when, after the late evening meal,
+Michael had retired and left them alone together--'mother, I must wear
+mourning for Cyril. I hope father will not mind.'
+
+'You shall do as you like, my love,' returned her mother sadly. 'Your
+father will not object to anything you wish to do. You know we all loved
+dear Cyril.'
+
+'Yes, mother; and you were always so good to him. Towards the last he
+mentioned you and father: "Give my love to them both." Michael heard him
+say it.'
+
+'Geraldine is as unhappy as possible. She drove with me to the station.
+She begged me over and over again to say how grieved she was for you.'
+
+'Poor dear Gage is always so kind!' replied Audrey calmly. 'Mother dear,
+should you mind my going to bed now? My head aches so, and I am so
+tired!'
+
+Then Mrs. Ross attended her daughter to her room, and did not leave her
+until her weary head was on the pillow.
+
+'I should like to stay,' she said, looking at her child with yearning
+eyes; 'but I suppose you would rather be alone.'
+
+'Yes, mother dear;' and then she drew her mother's face down to hers and
+kissed it tenderly. 'Dearest, you are so good to me, and so is Michael.'
+
+'Who could help being good to you, Audrey?'
+
+'Yes; but you must not be too kind to me. One must not let one's
+unhappiness spoil other people's lives. I want to be as brave as he was.
+Will you draw up the blind, mother dear? It is such a beautiful
+moonlight night.' And, as Mrs. Ross did as she was asked, Audrey raised
+herself upon her elbow. 'Oh, how calm and lovely it looks! Even the
+housetops are transfigured and glorified. Oh, mother, it is all as it
+should be! Cyril said so; and he is safe in his Father's house--in his
+Father's and mine!' she half whispered to herself, as she sank back on
+the pillow again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+A STRANGE EXPIATION
+
+     'When some beloved voice that was to you
+     Both sound and sweetness faileth suddenly,
+     And silence against which you dare not cry
+     Aches round you like a strong disease and new,
+     What hope? what help?...
+                      ...Nay, none of these.
+     Speak, Thou availing Christ! and fill this pause.'
+
+                                    MRS. BROWNING.
+
+
+Mrs. Ross soon discovered that Audrey wished to remain in town until the
+funeral was over, and she at once wrote off to her husband for the
+required permission.
+
+Dr. Ross made no objection; he meant to be present himself at the
+funeral, and as he had some important business that would detain him
+another day or so in London, he suggested that they should accompany him
+back to Woodcote.
+
+Audrey seemed satisfied when she had read her father's letter. He had
+sent her a message that touched her greatly.
+
+'I hope our child will not grieve over-much,' he wrote. 'Tell her that
+her father sympathises with her most fully. By and by she will read the
+meaning of this painful lesson. As for poor Cyril, one can only long to
+change places with him. His was a short and fiery trial, but at least he
+was spared the burden and heat of the day. When one thinks of his
+blameless youth, and the manly endurance with which he met and faced his
+trouble, one can only be thankful that he has been taken out of a life
+that would have been only one long struggle and disappointment, and has
+entered so early into his rest.'
+
+'Father is right,' murmured Audrey, as she read this. 'Every morning I
+wake I thank God that he has ceased to suffer.'
+
+Audrey went every day to see Mollie, and to spend a few minutes by
+Cyril's coffin. She went with Michael to Highgate to choose his last
+resting-place, and no other hands but hers arranged the flowers that
+decked the chamber of death. Mrs. Blake remained in her own room, and
+refused to see anyone. Biddy's account of her mistress was very
+unsatisfactory.
+
+'She does not sleep unless I give her the doctor's soothing stuff,' she
+confessed one day, when Audrey questioned her very closely, 'and
+sometimes I cannot coax her to take it. "I don't want to sleep, Biddy,"
+that is all her cry. "If I sleep I must wake, and the waking is too
+terrible." Unless Blessed Mary and the saints help my mistress,'
+continued Biddy, wiping the tears from her withered cheeks, 'I think she
+will go out of her mind. She spends half the night in that room. Early
+this morning I missed her, and found her lying in a dead faint beside
+the coffin. She does not eat, and I never see her shed a tear. She sits
+rocking herself and moaning as though she were in pain, and then she
+starts up and walks the room till it turns one giddy to see her. I dare
+not leave her a moment. If she would only see a doctor! but, poor soul,
+she will do nothing now to please her old Biddy.'
+
+'I must see her,' exclaimed Audrey, horrified at this description of
+wild, unchastened grief. 'Biddy, will you take this note to her?' and
+Biddy, nothing loath, carried off the slip of paper.
+
+Audrey had only pencilled a few words:
+
+'My poor friend, let me come to you; ours is the same sorrow. For
+Cyril's sake, do not refuse me.'
+
+But Biddy came back the next moment shaking her head very sorrowfully.
+
+'I can do nought with her,' she said hastily. 'She sends her love, Miss
+Ross, but she will see no one--no one. I have done the best I can for
+you, but I dare not anger her,' finished the old woman, moving sadly
+away. 'Why, she has not seen Master Kester, though he came to her door
+last night! We must leave her alone until she comes round to her right
+mind.'
+
+'Do you think she will be at the funeral?' Michael asked more than once;
+but no one was able to answer this question.
+
+But when the day came she was there, closely veiled, so that no one
+could see her face, and as she walked to the grave, between Kester and
+Mollie, her step seemed as firm as ever. Michael had written to Matthew
+O'Brien the particulars of his son's death, and had told him that a
+place would be reserved for him among the mourners; but to this there
+was no reply.
+
+Just as the service began in the chapel, however, a tall man with a gray
+moustache slipped into the seat behind Kester. When the sad procession
+filed out into the cemetery, Audrey and Michael drew back to let him
+pass, but he made signs for them to precede him. But at the end, as they
+all crowded round the open grave to take their last look at the
+flower-decked coffin, Mat O'Brien stood for a moment by his wife's side.
+Audrey said afterwards that she was sure Mrs. Blake saw him; she started
+slightly, but took no further notice. The tears were streaming down
+Mat's face, and Mollie, with girlish sympathy, had slipped her hand
+through his arm; but the mother stood in stony impassiveness beside
+them, until Kester whispered something to her and led her away. The rest
+of the mourners had dispersed, but Audrey stood there still, looking
+thoughtfully down into the grave. Dr. Ross and his wife had followed the
+others, but Michael had kept his place beside Audrey.
+
+'I think they are waiting for us, dear,' he said at last, as though to
+rouse her.
+
+Then she turned her face to him.
+
+'I like being here,' she replied simply; 'and yet it is not pain to
+leave him lying there. Michael, I feel like Christian. Do you remember
+how his burden rolled off into an open grave? Somehow, mine has rolled
+off, too.'
+
+'You mean that you are happy about him.'
+
+'Yes. It is so sweet to think that he will never suffer any more. Oh,
+Michael, it has been such a burden! I never seemed to have a moment's
+peace or comfort. Every night I used to think, "How has he passed
+to-day? Has it been very bad with him?" And sometimes the thought of all
+he was bearing seemed to weigh me to the earth.'
+
+'And you never spoke of this to anyone--you bore all this by yourself?'
+
+'It was no use to speak. No one could help me. It was his pain, not
+mine. Now it will be different. He is safe and happy, and as for me, I
+must try to live now for other people.'
+
+And then, with a smile that touched him to the heart, she stepped back
+from the grave and told him that she was ready.
+
+Somehow, Michael felt comforted by those few words. His intuition and
+knowledge of Audrey's character gave him hope that after a time she
+would recover her old elasticity. 'Until now,' he said to himself, 'she
+has so fully identified herself with him, that she has simply had no
+life of her own. Her sympathetic nature has reflected only his thoughts
+and feelings. I doubt whether she has ever questioned herself as to her
+love for him; she has taken everything for granted. And now she has lost
+him, the thought of his happiness seems to swallow up all thought of her
+own grief. Such unselfishness will bring its own healing.' And in this
+way Michael comforted himself about her.
+
+That evening Audrey received a message that surprised her greatly.
+Kester brought it. His mother would see her the next day; someone had
+told her that Audrey was going back to Woodcote, and she had at once
+expressed a wish that she should not leave without bidding her good-bye.
+
+'Tell her that I can speak now, and that I have much to say to her.' And
+the strangeness of this message filled Audrey with perplexity.
+
+Michael took her to Kensington the next day. He had to fetch Kester; the
+boy was going back to Brighton: there was no good in his lingering in
+London. His mother took no pleasure in his society; his overtures to his
+father had made a breach between them, and she had treated him with
+silent displeasure.
+
+But he told Michael, as they drove to the station, that she had been
+kinder in her manner to him that morning than she had been for months.
+
+'She kissed me more than once, and held my hand as though she did not
+like bidding me good bye. She looks awfully ill,' continued the boy,
+with a choke in his voice; 'and when I asked her to be good to Mollie,
+she said quite gently that she had been a bad mother to us both; that
+she had not considered us enough, and that God was punishing her for it.
+I begged her not to say it, but she repeated it again. "You and Mollie
+will be better without me," she went on. Oh, Captain Burnett! do you
+think she will die? I never saw anyone look quite so bad,' persisted
+Kester sadly.
+
+Biddy took Audrey up at once to her mistress's room.
+
+'You will find her better,' she said shortly; 'the dumb spirit is cast
+out of her. That is the blessed saints' doing. I knew my mistress would
+come to her senses--Heaven be praised for it!'
+
+The room was somewhat dark, and it was not until Audrey was quite close
+to Mrs. Blake that she noticed the change in her that had so shocked
+Kester.
+
+The blackness of the plain stuff gown, unrelieved by any whiteness, may
+have made the contrast of her pale face more striking; but Audrey
+noticed that her dark hair was now streaked with gray. She had drawn it
+back from her face and coiled it tightly behind, as though her own
+appearance had ceased to interest her, and the sunken eyes and a certain
+sharp look about the cheekbones made her seem at least ten years older.
+
+With a pity amounting to tenderness, Audrey would have put her arms
+round her; but Mrs. Blake drew back, and only suffered her to kiss her
+cheek.
+
+'Dear Mrs. Blake----'
+
+But she interrupted her.
+
+'Do not call me that again,' she said hastily. 'There has been enough of
+deception and lies; my name is Olive O'Brien. As long as I remain in the
+world I wish to be called by that name.'
+
+Then Audrey gazed at her in speechless consternation. What could this
+strange speech portend?
+
+'Will you sit down?' she continued, at the same time seating herself in
+a high-backed chair that stood beside her bed.
+
+A crucifix lay on a little table beside her, with a framed photograph of
+Cyril that she always carried about with her. From time to time she
+looked at them as she spoke.
+
+'Biddy told me that you were going back to Rutherford, and I could not
+let you go without bidding you good-bye.'
+
+'It would have made me very unhappy if you had not allowed me to see
+you.'
+
+'I cannot believe that; but of course you mean it for the truth: that is
+why my boy loved you, because you are so absolutely true.' Her voice
+sank into a whisper, and a gloomy light came into her eyes. 'That is why
+his mother disappointed him, why he lost all trust in her, because
+falsehood was easier to her than truth.'
+
+'But not now, dear Mrs. Blake; nay, I must call you by the old name. And
+what does it matter between us two if you have sinned? If your
+wrong-doing seems a heavy burden, you can at least repent.'
+
+'I have repented,' she said, in a voice so strange and thrilling that
+Audrey felt inwardly troubled. 'In the hours of darkness by my boy's
+coffin I have humbled myself before my Maker, I have craved to expiate
+my sin. Audrey, listen to me,' she continued; 'I have sent for you
+because you loved my Cyril, because for a few months you made him happy.
+He was my idol, and that is why he has been taken from me--because I
+forgot God and truth, and sinned for his sake.'
+
+'Yes; but you are sorry now.'
+
+'What does such sorrow avail, except for my own purging? In a little
+while the world--this cruel, hard, outer world--will know me no more. I
+am going back to Ireland with Mollie and Biddy, and when I have made my
+peace with the Church I shall enter a convent.'
+
+'Good heavens! what can you mean?'
+
+'I have always been at heart a Catholic,' she returned in a mechanical
+tone; 'but while my boy lived I was content that his Church should be
+mine. All my life I have had a leaning to the older faith; now in my
+desolation I mean to shelter in the bosom of our Holy Mother the Church.
+She receives all penitents; she will not refuse me.'
+
+'But your children--Mollie: would you forsake Mollie?' pleaded Audrey,
+with tears in her eyes. 'Would you neglect your sacred responsibilities
+for duties no one would demand of a mother?'
+
+'Am I fit to discharge my responsibilities?' she returned in a cold,
+hard voice. 'Has anyone but Cyril ever kept me straight? Do you think
+Mollie and I could go on living the same old life without him? Audrey,
+you do not know what you say; such an existence would rob me of my
+reason.'
+
+'But what will become of Mollie?' asked Audrey, concealing her alarm at
+this wild speech. 'You must not only think of yourself.'
+
+'Mollie will go with me,' she returned. 'I shall not forsake her. The
+convent that I propose to enter has a home attached to it, where they
+educate girls belonging to the upper classes. Mollie will have plenty of
+companions. The nuns are kind women, and they will not coerce her in any
+way, and there will be sufficient for her maintenance.'
+
+'But when she grows up--when her education is finished: what will become
+of her then?'
+
+But Mrs. Blake did not seem clear on this point. The convent had its
+boarders, she remarked; with the superior's permission, Mollie might
+still remain there, and lead a tolerably happy life.
+
+'There will be other young ladies; she will not be dull,' she went on.
+'The rule is a strict one--that is why I chose it--but I should be
+allowed to see her sometimes; perhaps she too may turn Catholic, and
+then all will be well.'
+
+But Audrey's honest nature revolted against this merciless arrangement.
+She saw clearly that Mrs. Blake's weak, excitable nature had been under
+some strong influence, though it was not until later that she heard that
+during the last few months she had secretly attended a Roman Catholic
+chapel near them. Doubtless Biddy, who was a stanch Romanist, had
+connived at this.
+
+And now she had planned this strange expiation for herself, and poor
+Mollie must be sacrificed. What would Cyril have thought of such an
+unnatural arrangement? For Cyril's sake, for Mollie's, Audrey felt she
+must combat this notion.
+
+'Mrs. Blake,' she said very earnestly, 'it is not for me to question
+your actions with regard to yourself. If you are at heart a Roman
+Catholic--if all these years you have been an unprofessed member of that
+Church--it may be as well for you to acknowledge it openly. I do not
+believe myself that a convent life is free from its trials and
+temptations. Human nature is the same everywhere, and even sanctified
+human nature is liable to error. Wiser people than myself would tell you
+that peace of mind would be more surely attained by remaining in the
+path of duty. Dear Mrs. Blake, forgive me if I pain you, but would'--she
+hesitated a moment--'would not Cyril have disapproved of his mother
+taking such a step?'
+
+'I think not,' was the response. 'My boy's eyes are purified now; he
+would judge differently. I shall devote the remainder of my life to
+praying for the repose of his soul, and in repentance for my miserable
+past; and it may be'--here she lifted her clasped hands, and a faint
+light came into her eyes--'that Heaven may release me from my misery
+before many years are over, and my purified soul may be allowed to find
+rest.'
+
+'God grant you may find it, poor, misguided woman!' was Audrey's secret
+prayer; but she merely said aloud:
+
+'We must live out our life as long as the Divine will ordains; but, Mrs.
+Blake, I must speak of Mollie. If you will sacrifice yourself, you have
+no right to sacrifice her. For Cyril's sake, let me have her!'
+
+'You, Audrey!'
+
+'Yes, I. Have we not been like sisters all these months? I think Cyril
+would love to know she was with me; he was so fond of Mollie. He liked
+to see us together. It will make me happier to have her; when Michael is
+away I have no companion.'
+
+'Do you really mean it?' asked Mrs. Blake, in an astonished voice. 'You
+are very good, Audrey, but you are not your own mistress. Dr. Ross
+would never consent to such an arrangement.'
+
+'I have my own money. No one would be put to any expense for Mollie,
+unless you wished to provide for her yourself.'
+
+'I should certainly wish that.'
+
+'Then in that case there will be no difficulty at all. I know my father
+too well to fear a refusal from him. I will go back to South Audley
+Street and speak to him and my mother, and to-morrow you shall know
+their answer; but you must promise me one thing before I go--that, if
+they consent, you will let me have Mollie.'
+
+'She will be happier with you than in the convent,' replied Mrs. Blake,
+in a musing tone. 'After all, it would have been a dull existence for
+her, poor child!' There was a touch of motherliness in her voice as she
+spoke. 'Yes, you shall have her. I think my boy would have wished it.'
+
+And Audrey's grateful kiss sealed the compact.
+
+'But there is something else I must say,' continued Mrs. Blake, when
+they had talked a little more about Mollie--at least, Audrey had talked.
+'I want you to give Mat a message from me.'
+
+'Mr. O'Brien!'
+
+'Yes, my husband. Have I not told you that I have humbled myself to the
+dust? Before I leave the world I would make my peace even with him. Will
+you give him my message?'
+
+'Assuredly I will.'
+
+'Tell him that I have repented at last, and that I would fain have his
+forgiveness--that I know now that I had no right to rob him of his
+children. If the time came over again--but no; how can I tell whether
+things would have been different? Mat would always have been Mat, and I
+could not alter my own nature. Oh, if I had only been good like you,
+Audrey!' she sighed bitterly.
+
+'You must not talk any more,' observed Audrey, alarmed by the look of
+utter exhaustion on the wan face. 'Shall I leave you now to rest a
+little?'
+
+'Rest?' Audrey never forgot the tone in which the unhappy woman uttered
+the word. 'How can one rest on such a pillow of thorns? No; the time is
+too short. I must be up and about my work. Will you bid me good-bye,
+now? After to-day we shall not meet again. You shall write to me about
+Mollie; but this interview has exhausted me, and I must husband my
+strength.'
+
+'If I could only comfort you!'
+
+The sad yearning in Audrey's voice seemed to touch Mrs. Blake, and as
+the girl clung to her she pressed her to her bosom.
+
+'God bless you for all your goodness to him and to me! Every day I live
+I shall pray for you.' Her voice broke; with a sudden impulse she kissed
+her again and again, then pushed her gently from her. 'Go, go!' she said
+faintly, 'and send Biddy to me.' And Audrey dared not linger.
+
+But she looked quite white and shaken when she rejoined Michael; she
+could scarcely speak to Mollie, and she seemed relieved when her cousin
+told her that his hansom was at the door. The soft autumnal breeze
+seemed to refresh her, and after a little while she was able to tell
+Michael all that had passed between her and Mrs. Blake. Michael took it
+very coolly; he seemed to have fully expected something of the kind.
+
+'Poor soul! she will always be true to herself,' he observed. 'It is
+singular how these unbalanced, pleasure-loving natures lean towards
+asceticism--how rapidly they pass from one extreme to another. Even her
+repentance is not free from selfishness. She would free herself from her
+maternal responsibilities, as she freed herself from her marriage vows,
+under the mistaken notion of expiating a sinful past; and she will
+labour under the delusion that such an ill-conceived sacrifice will be
+pleasing to the Almighty.'
+
+'Yes; it is a great mistake,' she returned.
+
+'A very great mistake. The longer I live, Audrey, the more I marvel at
+the way people deceive themselves. The name of religion cloaks hidden
+selfishness to an extent you could hardly credit; the majority are too
+much engrossed in trying to save their own souls to care what becomes of
+other people. One would think it was "Save yourself, and the devil take
+the hindmost!" when one sees so-called Christians scurrying along the
+narrow way, as they call it, without a thought to the brother or sister
+who has fallen beside them.'
+
+'It is very grievous,' returned Audrey sadly. 'What would my poor Cyril
+have said to such an expiation? Michael, this interview with his mother
+has tried me more than anything. I think the hardest thing in life is
+when we see those we love turn down a wrong path, and when no entreaty
+will induce them to retrace their steps.'
+
+'It is a sight one sees every day,' was Michael's reply; and then, as he
+saw how jaded and weary she was, he began to tell her about Kester, and
+after that they talked of Mollie. And when Audrey found that Michael
+approved of her plan, and was as anxious as she was herself that Mollie
+should accompany them to Woodcote, she began to discuss the subject with
+her old animation, and by the time the drive was over the harassed look
+had passed away from her face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+ON MICHAEL'S BENCH
+
+     'What can I give thee back, O liberal
+     And princely giver, who has brought the gold
+     And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,
+     And laid them out the outside of the wall,
+     For such as I to take or leave withal,
+     In unexpected largesse?'
+
+                                    MRS. BROWNING.
+
+
+Dr. Ross and his wife listened very kindly to their daughter's project.
+Indeed, if Audrey had expressed a wish to establish a small colony of
+street Arabs at the end of the Woodcote garden, Mrs. Ross would have
+offered no objection to the scheme. Audrey could have ruled her mother
+as well as ever Geraldine had ruled her; but she was too generous to
+exert her influence. Her mother could have refused her nothing; from
+morning to night her one thought was how she might console her child.
+
+'Mollie will be such a companion for Audrey, John!' she suggested, when
+for one moment her husband had hesitated.
+
+'I was thinking about Matthew O'Brien,' he replied. 'Brail is rather too
+near, and people will talk; it will leak out in time that O'Brien is
+Mollie's father.'
+
+'Will that matter?' interposed Michael; 'talk will not hurt anyone. I
+think I can answer for O'Brien: he is the last man to lay claim to his
+own child. His brother tells me that he is perfectly content if he sees
+her from time to time. Kester often writes to him, and he is never tired
+of reading his letters. Both Mollie and Kester have grown quite fond of
+him.'
+
+'I think it should be kept quiet, for Mollie's sake,' returned Dr. Ross.
+'In my judgment, Matthew O'Brien is a very unfit person to take care of
+a girl approaching womanhood. His brother is old, and he may outlive
+him. I do not wish to be hard on him, but he seems to me a very
+irresponsible sort of person. When Mollie is of age she will, of course,
+judge for herself; but until then her friends will be wise not to give
+her up to her father's guardianship.'
+
+'He will never claim her,' replied Michael dryly. 'I will quote your own
+words: an irresponsible person is only too glad to evade responsibility.
+Mollie may live at Woodcote quite safely, and her visits to Brail will
+be taken as a matter of course. Of all people I know, the O'Briens are
+the least likely to chatter about their private concerns. Matthew
+O'Brien will be too thankful that his daughter should enjoy such
+privileges to wish to rob her of them.'
+
+'Father, it will make me so happy to have her!' whispered Audrey in her
+father's ear.
+
+Then the Doctor's eyes glistened with tenderness.
+
+'It shall be as you wish, my dear,' he said very gently: 'Mollie shall
+come. Your mother is very fond of her, and so am I. You will have
+another daughter, Emmie,' he continued, looking at his wife with a kind
+smile. And so the matter was settled.
+
+Poor Mollie was horrified when she heard what she had escaped. The idea
+of the convent was terrible to her.
+
+'Oh, dear Miss Ross,' she exclaimed, 'how can mamma do anything so
+dreadful? She will be miserable--quite miserable. Of course she would
+not like living with only Biddy and me--she would have fretted herself
+ill. But to be a nun and say prayers all day long! Poor, poor mamma!'
+And Mollie's eyes grew round with misery.
+
+'Dear Mollie, your mother thinks she knows best, and no one can control
+her. Perhaps, if she does not like it--if the life be too hard--she will
+come out at the end of her novitiate.'
+
+And this view of the case seemed to comfort Mollie a little.
+
+'And I am really to live at Woodcote--at that dear, beautiful place?'
+she continued. 'Oh, Miss Ross, it seems too good to be true!'
+
+'Yes; you are to be my little sister,' returned Audrey tranquilly. 'But,
+Mollie, I will not be called Miss Ross any longer. If you live with me,
+you must call me Audrey.'
+
+And Mollie promised that she would.
+
+Mollie said very little about her parting interview with her mother; but
+she cried bitterly for hours afterwards. 'Poor, poor mamma! Oh, what
+would Cyril say!' she exclaimed over and over again. And it was a long
+time before anyone could comfort her.
+
+Michael went down with them to Woodcote, and remained with them for the
+next month or two. Cyril's sudden death had occurred the first week in
+October, and the trees in the Woodcote gardens were glorious in their
+autumnal livery of red and golden-brown, while every day careful hands
+swept up the fallen leaves from the shrubberies and paths. Michael
+resumed his old habits. When Audrey wanted him he was always ready to
+walk or drive with her. No one knew the effort it cost him to appear as
+usual, when every day his passion gained a stronger mastery over him.
+Dearly as he had loved her in her youthful brightness, he had never
+loved her as he did now, when he saw her in uncomplaining sadness
+fulfilling her daily duties and devoting herself to Mollie. Geraldine
+used to look at her with tears in her eyes. 'She is sweeter than ever. I
+never knew anyone so good,' she said to her husband; and Mr. Harcourt
+had assented to this very cordially. As for Mrs. Ross, before many weeks
+were over she had drawn down on her maternal head more than one reproof
+from her daughter.
+
+'Mother,' Audrey said to her one day, 'have you forgotten what I once
+told you--that you are not to be so kind to me? You are spoiling me
+dreadfully. You give me my way in everything; and when I say anything
+that I ought not to say, you do not contradict me. I am growing
+demoralised, and it is all your and Michael's fault if I get more
+selfish every day.'
+
+'You selfish, my darling?'
+
+'Yes, selfish and stupid, and as idle as possible; and yet you never
+scold me or ask me to do anything for you.'
+
+'You are always doing something, Audrey; you are busy from morning till
+night. Michael says you work far too hard.'
+
+'But I must work; it is my duty to work,' she returned, a little
+restlessly; 'and, mother, you must help, and not spoil me. When I see
+you and Gage looking at me with tears in your eyes, it troubles me to
+see them. I want you to be happy. I want everything to go on as usual,
+and I mean to be happy, too.'
+
+And then she went away and gave Mollie her music-lesson, and when it was
+over she went in search of Michael.
+
+Michael knew he was necessary to her--that in certain restless moods he
+was able to soothe her; so he stayed manfully at his post until after
+Christmas.
+
+But with the new year he resumed his Bohemian life, spending two or
+three weeks at South Audley Street, and then running down to Woodcote
+for a few days. He felt it was wiser to do so, and he could leave her
+more comfortably now. She was better in every way: she drooped less
+visibly, her smile became more frequent, and the constant society of
+Mollie and intercourse with her fresh girlish mind were evidently
+beneficial.
+
+She would do now without him, he told himself as he went back to his
+lodgings, and he need no longer put such a force on himself. 'Until I
+can speak, until the time has come for me to open my heart to her, it is
+better that we should be apart.'
+
+That Audrey held a different opinion was evident, and she could not
+always conceal her disappointment when Michael's brief visits became
+briefer and more infrequent.
+
+'It is all that troublesome money,' she said once, when one spring
+morning he stood waiting for the dog-cart to take him to the station.
+'Of course, Woodcote does not content you now. You want a house of your
+own, and to be your own master. Well, it is perfectly natural,' she
+added quickly.
+
+'I have always been my own master,' he returned quietly; 'and as for the
+house you are so fond of talking about, it seems still in the clouds as
+far as I am concerned. Neither have I once visited Wardour Street.'
+
+'No; you have been very slow about it,' she replied, smiling; 'you were
+never in a hurry to possess your good things, Michael. I have often
+envied you your patience.'
+
+And then the mare trotted round the corner.
+
+'There is an old saying, that "all comes round to him who waits." Do you
+think that is true, Audrey?'
+
+He did not wait for her answer, as he climbed up into the driving-seat
+and took the reins; then he lifted his hat to her with rather a sad
+smile.
+
+'Yes, I have waited a long time, and it will not come yet.' And then he
+touched the mare a little smartly, and the next moment she was trotting
+briskly towards the gate.
+
+'Why had he looked so sad?' she wondered, as she went back to Mollie. He
+had not seemed like himself all the week, and now he had gone. 'If he
+only knew how much I want him, I think he would not go away so often,'
+she said to herself as she sat down to correct Mollie's French exercise.
+
+It was in the early days of June that Michael paid one of these flying
+visits to Rutherford, and as he drove through the green lanes, with the
+sweet summer breeze just stirring the leaves, he suddenly remembered
+that Cyril had lain in his quiet grave just eight months. He hardly knew
+why the thought had occurred to him, for he had been pondering a far
+different subject. 'Eight months! I had no idea that it had been so
+long,' he said to himself; 'time passes more quickly as one grows older.
+If I live to the end of the year I shall be nine-and-thirty. No wonder I
+feel a sober middle-aged man!'
+
+These reflections were hardly exhilarating, and he was glad when
+Woodcote was in sight.
+
+'You need not drive in, Fenton,' he said to the groom; 'take the mare
+round to the stables, and I will walk up to the house.'
+
+The gardens of Woodcote looked lovelier than ever this afternoon, he
+thought, as he walked slowly up the terrace: the tender green of the
+foliage, the gay tints of lilacs and laburnums and pink and white horse
+chestnuts, made a gorgeous background. Here a guelder rose thrust its
+soft puffy balls almost in his face, while the white shimmering leaves
+of the maple contrasted superbly with the dark-veined leaves of the
+copper beech. Dr. Ross had always prided himself on his rare trees and
+shrubs, and, indeed, no other garden in Rutherford could compete with
+the grounds of Woodcote; the long lawn that stretched below the terrace
+was kept free from daisies, and was as smooth as velvet.
+
+Some lads were playing tennis there now, and a young lady in a gray
+dress was sitting under a clump of lilacs, watching them. For a moment
+Michael hesitated, thinking it was a stranger; but as she beckoned to
+him, a sudden gleam came into his eyes, and he hastily crossed the lawn.
+
+'I have been waiting for you; you are a little late, Michael,' she said,
+as he shook hands with her. 'Mollie has gone out with mother; I asked
+her to take my place.'
+
+But he stood looking at her, and there was a strangely pleased
+expression on his face.
+
+'I did not know you,' he said, in a low voice; 'I thought it was a
+strange young lady sitting on the bench. It was this, I suppose;' and he
+touched her gown as he spoke.
+
+Audrey coloured. The remark evidently pained her.
+
+'I left off my black gown yesterday,' she replied hurriedly. 'I found
+out that it troubled father, though he was too kind to tell me so. It
+was Gage who spoke to me; she said that it was a pity to wear it so
+long.'
+
+'I don't see that Gage had any right to speak to you. It was your
+affair, not hers.'
+
+There was a trace of sharpness in Michael's tone, and the light had
+faded out of his eyes. After all, there was no cause for him to rejoice;
+she had not left off her mourning of her own accord. What a fool he had
+been! Of course, she had only done it to please her father.
+
+'No; it was kind of her to speak; and, after all, what does it matter?
+Father seemed so relieved when I put on this, and I can remember Cyril
+without the help of a black gown. It is better to please other people
+than to please one's self, and after the first moment I did not mind.
+Those boys are so noisy,' she continued in her ordinary manner, as
+though she were not willing to discuss the subject more fully. 'Shall we
+go to "Michael's bench"? Booty is making for that direction, as usual,
+and the pond is so pretty this afternoon.'
+
+'As you like,' he returned, a little moodily.
+
+Strange to say, this little episode of the dress had upset his
+equanimity, and he could not at once regain his old calmness. Had ever
+any gown become her so well? he wondered, with the exaggeration natural
+to a lover. She had a spray of laburnum in her hand, and the sunshine
+seemed to thread her brown hair with gold. It seemed to him as though
+there was a softer look in her gray eyes, as though his return were very
+welcome to her.
+
+'Michael,' she said suddenly, as they stood watching Eiderdown and
+Snowflake as they came sailing proudly up the pond in all the majesty of
+unruffled feathers, and Booty, as usual, pattered to the water's edge to
+bark at them until he was hoarse, 'what is this that I hear about your
+going away? Father tells me that you have made all sorts of plans for
+yourself.'
+
+'My money is burning a hole in my purse, you see,' he returned, picking
+up a dry twig from the ground, a proceeding that seemed to drive Booty
+frantic with excitement. 'I am beginning to realise my responsibility as
+a man of property; and as, of course, my first duty is to look after
+number one----'
+
+But she would not allow him to finish.
+
+'Michael, will you come and sit down? How can we talk properly while you
+are picking up sticks for Booty?'
+
+Then he followed her to the bench, but, instead of seating himself, he
+leaned lazily against a baby-willow.
+
+'I am going abroad with Dick Abercrombie,' he said, as though he were
+mentioning an everyday occurrence. 'You know how often I have planned a
+tour in Switzerland and Italy, but I have never been able to carry it
+out; and now I can combine duty and pleasure.'
+
+'Where does the duty lie, Michael?'
+
+But she did not smile as she put the question, and it struck him that
+she looked a little dull.
+
+'Why, with Dick, of course,' he returned quickly. 'Don't you know, the
+poor fellow is terribly out of health; his father is very anxious about
+him. He has been over-working, and I fancy there is some sort of
+love-affair as well; at least, the Doctor hinted as much. Anyhow, he is
+to strike work for six months; and as he wanted a travelling companion,
+I offered my humble services.'
+
+'But you will not be away all that time?' she asked, with visible
+anxiety.
+
+'Six months is not so very long, is it?' he returned coolly; 'and I do
+not see how we shall work out our plans even in that time. We are to do
+Switzerland thoroughly and to spend at least a month in the Engadine;
+then there are the Swiss Tyrol and the Italian lakes, and afterwards
+Rome, Florence, Venice, and Naples. If Dick tires of it and throws it
+up, I can still keep on alone. I want to do the thing properly for once
+in my life, and I have even thought of Greece and the Holy Land the
+following spring.'
+
+But again she interrupted him, and this time he saw the pained look in
+her eyes.
+
+'You will leave us for all that time--you will let him come back alone,
+and go on by yourself? Oh, Michael! what shall I do without you? You are
+more necessary to me than ever now.'
+
+She so seldom thought of herself that this speech took him by surprise.
+There was a tone of reproach in her voice, as though she thought him
+unkind for leaving her. Michael was not his ordinary calm self that
+afternoon. For months he had dreaded to find himself alone with her; but
+now the very sweetness of that loving reproach seemed too much for him.
+
+'A man is not always master of himself,' Cyril had once said; and at
+that moment Michael felt that it was no longer possible for him to be
+silent. He could bear it no more.
+
+'I shall stay away,' he said in a strangely-suppressed voice, 'because
+it is only right for me to do so--because it is my duty to leave you.'
+
+'Your duty to leave me,' she faltered. 'Oh, Michael, why?'
+
+'Do you wish me to tell you?' he said, looking at her fully as he stood
+opposite to her; and there was a gleam in the keen blue eyes that made
+her suddenly avert her face. 'Is it possible that all these years you
+have not known what you have been to me--that you have not guessed my
+love?'
+
+Then for the first time in her life she shrank from him.
+
+'What do you mean?' she said helplessly. 'We have always loved each
+other; you have been like my own brother, Michael.'
+
+'Then I can be your brother no longer,' he returned passionately; 'from
+a child you have been far dearer to me. I never remember the time since
+I was a subaltern that I did not love you, and my love has grown every
+year.'
+
+'Do you mean that you cared for me as Cyril cared?'
+
+But even as she asked the question he saw that her face was suffused
+with a burning blush.
+
+'I do mean it! From a child you have been the one woman in the world to
+me--the only one I wished to make my wife.'
+
+Then she covered her face with her hands, and he could see that she was
+trembling from head to foot.
+
+'It is too soon,' he heard her say; 'it is terribly soon;' and he knew
+the shock of this discovery was very great.
+
+'It is not too soon,' he said, sitting down beside her and trying to
+draw away her hands. 'Audrey, my dearest, I cannot bear this. You must
+not shrink from me so. Do not misunderstand me; I am asking you for
+nothing. Surely you are not afraid of me--of Michael?'
+
+'I think I am afraid of you,' she whispered. 'Oh, Michael, if this be
+true! But I cannot--cannot believe it! Why have you never told me this
+before? Why have you let me----'
+
+And then she stopped, as though a sob impeded her utterance.
+
+'I was never in a position to tell you so,' he returned, with his old
+gentleness. 'For years I doubted whether I should ever be well enough to
+marry. Do you think I would have condemned my wife, even if I could have
+won her, to a life of nursing? I was far too proud to demand such a
+sacrifice of any woman. And then I was a poor man, Audrey.'
+
+'What did that matter?' she replied, with a touch of scorn in her voice;
+'Cyril was poor too.'
+
+'You must not think I blame him, if I say we were very different men. I
+was prouder than he, and I knew your generous nature too well to take
+advantage of it. When the money came it was too late: you were engaged
+to him. I had only to hide my pain, so that you should not be made
+unhappy by it. I thought I was a bad actor; but you never guessed my
+secret--you would not have guessed it now.'
+
+'How could I?' she returned simply; 'I was only thinking of Cyril.'
+
+'Yes, and you are thinking of him now; he is as much my rival now he is
+dead as when he was living. That is why I am going away, because I can
+bear it no longer.'
+
+'Must you go?'
+
+Audrey's voice sank so that he could hardly hear the faint words.
+Perhaps she herself did not know what they implied; she was too shaken
+and miserable. That Michael, her own dear Michael, should have suffered
+all these years, and that she had never known it! Cyril was in his
+grave--he no longer needed her--what did it matter if the idea of
+another man wooing her so soon gave her pain, if she could only comfort
+Michael? But happily for them both, Michael guessed at that secret
+thought, and as he caught the words the flush mounted to his brow.'
+
+'Yes, I must go,' he said firmly; 'it is my best, my only chance. In my
+absence you will think of me more kindly. The old Michael--who was your
+friend, your faithful, devoted friend--will unconsciously blend with the
+new Michael, who you know is your lover. There,' he continued in a
+pained voice, 'as I speak the word you shrink again from me; and yet I
+am asking you nothing. Dear, if you were to promise me this moment that
+you would be my wife, if you were to tell me that you would try to love
+me as I wish to be loved, I would not marry you! No--though you are
+dearer to me than anything in life--I would not marry you!'
+
+'Do you not wish me to try, then?' she asked, rather bewildered by this
+strange wooing.
+
+Was it because Cyril was young that she had never feared him as she
+feared Michael? There was a quiet power about him that, in spite of his
+gentleness, seemed to subdue her, and though he was very pale, there was
+a fire in his eyes that made her unwilling to look at him. Yes, it was
+indeed a new Michael--one she could hardly understand.
+
+'Certainly I do not wish it,' he replied quickly. 'Can love come by
+trying?' But she could not answer him this. 'Any such love would not
+content me,' he went on; 'I must have all your heart or none. Forgive me
+if I say one thing, Audrey. I believe that poor Blake had not all that
+you have to give. I have thought this more than once; his love for you
+was so great that yours could hardly equal it. Nay, dear, I did not
+mean to hurt you by saying this,' for she was weeping now. 'You were
+goodness itself to him.'
+
+'I loved him; I am sure I loved him,' she said a little piteously, for
+Michael's words seemed to touch a sore spot.
+
+How often since Cyril's death had she blamed herself for not loving him
+more! More than once his excessive tenderness had wearied her, and she
+would have been content with less. She had been in no hurry to shorten
+her engagement, and the thought of resigning her maidenly freedom had
+always been distasteful to her. Could it be possible that Michael was
+right, and that there was something defective in her love?
+
+'Yes, you loved him. Blake has often told me that you were an angel of
+goodness to him. He missed nothing, you may be sure of that; but,
+Audrey, I cannot help my nature. I should ask more than ever he did.'
+
+Then her head drooped, and he knew that no answer was possible.
+
+'So you know why I am going away.' And now he rose and again stood
+before her. 'Because under these circumstances it would no longer be
+possible for us to be together--at least, it would not be possible for
+me. I shall leave you to question your own heart. Let it speak truly.
+Perhaps--I do not say it will be so, but perhaps you may find that I am
+more to you than you think. If that time ever comes, will you send for
+me?'
+
+'Send for you?'
+
+'Yes; be true to your own noble self, your own honest nature, and be
+true to me. You need not say many words. Just "Michael, come," will be
+enough to bring me from the very ends of the earth.'
+
+'But you will come before that; you will not wait for any such words?'
+
+But though he gave no special answer to this, she saw by his face that
+he would wait.
+
+'But you will write, Michael? you will not leave me'--and then she
+hastily substituted 'us'--'in complete silence? You may be away six
+months--a whole year--it may even be longer.'
+
+'Yes, it may be longer,' he returned; and now it was he who was the
+calmer of the two. 'It is impossible for either of us to tell now how
+long my exile may last; but I will write--not often, and perhaps I may
+not even speak of this that has passed between us; but I shall write,
+and you will find no difficulty in answering my letters.'
+
+And when he had said this he looked at her very kindly and then without
+another word walked to the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+'LET YOUR HEART PLEAD FOR ME'
+
+     'We were apart; yet day by day
+     I bade my heart more constant be.
+     I bade it keep the world away,
+     And grow a home for only thee;
+     Nor fear'd but thy love likewise grew,
+     Like mine, each day, more tried, more true.'
+
+                                   MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Audrey never knew how she got through the rest of the day. During the
+remainder of Michael's visit she seemed in an uneasy dream. Never before
+in her life had she been oppressed by such painful self-consciousness;
+all freedom of speech was impossible to her; she spoke with reluctance,
+and felt as though every word were weighed in some inward balance.
+
+More than once her mother asked her if she were well; but, happily,
+Michael was not present to see how the blood rushed to her face as she
+framed an evasive answer. She could not have told her mother whether she
+were ill or well: she only knew some moral earthquake had shattered her
+old illusions, and that she was looking out at a changed world.
+
+But she was conscious through it all that Michael's watchfulness and
+care shielded her from observation, that he was for ever throwing
+himself into the breach when any unusual effort was required. Once when
+her sister and Mr. Harcourt were present, he challenged them to a game
+of whist, that Audrey might leave her place at the piano. Very likely he
+had heard the slight quaver in her voice that told him the song tried
+her.
+
+Audrey longed to thank him as she stole out into the summer dusk, and
+wandered down the paths between the tall sentinel lilies, that gleamed
+so ghostly white in the darkness. But with all his thought for her, he
+was never alone with her for a moment until the last day came, and he
+went to the morning-room to wish her good-bye. She was tending her
+ferns, but she took off her gardening-gloves at once as he came up to
+her.
+
+'You are going, Michael; but we shall see you again before you really
+start?' she said, with an attempt at cheerfulness. But he shook his
+head.
+
+'I think not. Abercrombie has just written to say that Dick wants to get
+away a week earlier. I shall not be down here again.'
+
+Something choking seemed to rise in Audrey's throat, and if her life had
+depended on it she could not have got out another word. But Michael saw
+the troubled look in her eyes; they seemed to ask him again that
+question, 'Must you go?'
+
+'Yes, dear; I must go,' he replied gently. 'It is better for us
+both--better for you, and far, far better for me.' And as she still
+looked at him without speaking, he drew her towards him and kissed her
+cheek. 'God be with you, my dearest!' he said very tenderly. 'Think of
+me as kindly as you can, and let your heart plead for me.'
+
+And the next moment he was gone.
+
+Audrey stood rooted to the spot; she felt as though some nightmare
+oppression were on her. She heard her father's voice calling to her.
+'Where is Audrey?' he said. 'She must bid Michael good-bye.' And then
+someone--Michael, perhaps--answered him.
+
+A great longing was on her to see him again; but as she hesitated the
+wheels of the dog-cart sounded on the gravel, and she knew that she was
+too late. With a sudden impulse she leant out of the window. Michael was
+looking back at the house; he saw her, and raised his hat. She had just
+time to wave her hand as Dr. Ross drove rapidly through the gate.
+
+When her mother came to find her she was still standing there; she
+looked very pale, and the pained, wistful look was still in her eyes.
+
+'Mother,' she said, 'Cyril has left me, and now Michael has gone, too;
+and the world seems a different place to me.'
+
+'Michael will come back, my darling,' replied Mrs. Ross, vaguely
+troubled by the look on the girl's face. 'Your father says he has long
+wanted a thorough change, and this trip will do him so much good.'
+
+'Yes, he will come back; but when and how? And he will not come back for
+a long time;' and then she broke down, and hid her face in her mother's
+shoulder. 'If I were only like you, mother! if my life lay behind me,
+and had not to be lived out day by day and year by year! for I seem so
+tired of everything.'
+
+Mrs. Ross could make nothing of her girl; but she gave her just what she
+required that moment, a little soothing and extra petting.
+
+'You have gone through so much, and you have borne it all so quietly,
+and now Nature is having her revenge; you will be better presently, my
+darling.'
+
+And she was right: Audrey's strong will and sense of duty soon overcame
+the hysterical emotion.
+
+'I think I am tired,' she acknowledged; and to her mother's relief she
+consented to lie still and do nothing. 'I will make up for this idle day
+to-morrow,' she said with a faint smile, as she closed her eyes. 'Now go
+downstairs, mother dear, and don't trouble about me any more, unless you
+want to make me ashamed of myself for having been such a baby.'
+
+'She is just worn out with keeping everything to herself, and trying to
+spare us pain,' Mrs. Ross said to her husband, as she recounted this
+little scene to him. 'I never knew Audrey hysterical before; I was
+obliged to give her some sal volatile. I think she is asleep now.'
+
+'I don't hold with sal volatile,' returned the Doctor a little grimly.
+'Sleep is a far safer remedy, Emmie. Leave her to herself; she will be
+all right in a day or two.'
+
+But Dr. Ross sighed as he got up and went to his study. Audrey little
+knew that her father was in the secret; that in his pain and perplexity
+Michael had at last taken his best friend into his confidence.
+
+'We must leave things to work round,' had been his parting words to
+Michael that morning. 'No one, not even her father, must coerce her. All
+these years you have been like a son to me, Mike; and if my child could
+bring herself to love you as you deserve to be loved, no one would be
+better pleased than I should be.'
+
+'And you will tell no one--not even Cousin Emmeline?'
+
+'Why, I should not dare tell her,' returned the Doctor with rather a
+dejected smile, for he hated to keep things from his wife. 'Geraldine
+would get hold of it, and then it would come round to Harcourt. No, I
+will keep my own counsel, Mike. And now good-bye, and good luck to you!'
+
+'It is the Burnett motto,' replied Michael, with a touch of solemnity in
+his voice--'"Good luck God send." Take care of her, Cousin John.'
+
+And then the two men grasped hands and parted.
+
+'If I had to search the whole world over for a husband for her, I'd
+choose Mike,' was Dr. Ross's thought as he drove himself back again to
+Woodcote.
+
+Audrey kept her promise and made up for her one idle day. 'Work was good
+for everyone,' she said, 'and it was especially good for her.' So the
+following morning she resumed lessons with Mollie. She had complained a
+few weeks before that her German was becoming rusty, and by her father's
+advice she and Mollie were taking lessons together of Herr Freiligrath.
+The master she had selected was a very strict one, and his lessons
+entailed a great deal of preparation. No discipline could have been more
+wholesome. Audrey forgot her perplexities while she translated
+Wallenstein and followed the unhappy fortunes of Max and Theckla.
+
+But she did not at once regain her cheerfulness, and the daily round of
+duty was not performed without a great deal of effort and inward
+prompting; if no task were left unfulfilled, if she were always ready to
+give her mother or Geraldine the companionship they needed, and if her
+father never missed one of her usual ministrations, it was because she
+would listen to no plea of self-indulgence.
+
+'You are unhappy, and I fear you must be unhappy and not at ease for a
+long time,' she would say to herself in the intervals of her work; 'but
+idleness will not help you.' And to give her her due, she was never
+busier than during the summer that followed Michael's leave-taking. She
+had no idea that Michael knew all she was doing, and that her father
+often wrote to him. Michael had kept his word, and his letters to Audrey
+were very few and far between, and there was not a word in them that her
+mother or Geraldine could not have read if she had chosen to show them;
+but Michael's letters had always been sacred to her. Still it was
+impossible to answer them with her old freedom. The happy, sisterly
+intercourse was now a thing of the past. She could no longer pour out to
+her friend all her innocent girlish thoughts; a barrier--a strange,
+unnatural barrier--had been built up between them, and Audrey's letters,
+with all her painstaking effort, gave very little pleasure to Michael.
+
+'Poor child! she is still afraid of me,' he thought, as he folded up the
+thin paper. And he could not always suppress a sigh as he missed the old
+playfulness and open-hearted affection that used to breathe in every
+carelessly-worded sentence. But he knew that she could not help
+herself; that it was impossible for her now to tell him how she missed
+him and how heavily the days passed without him; and how could he know
+it, if she thought less of Cyril and more of him every day?
+
+Michael could not guess at all that inward self-questioning that seemed
+for ever making dumb utterance in her breast. Now and then, when no one
+needed her, she would wander down to 'Michael's bench' in the dusk or
+moonlight, and go over that strange conversation again.
+
+'Let your own heart plead for me,' had been his parting words; and,
+indeed, it seemed as though some subtle influence were for ever bringing
+his words to her memory. Why had he left her? Could he not have trusted
+her to do even this for him? She had loved Cyril, but she had not wished
+to marry him; she had wished to marry no man. It was the instinct of her
+nature to make others happy, and not to think of herself; and if Michael
+had wanted her----But the next moment a sort of despair seized her.
+
+He was not like Cyril. What she had to give would not content him in the
+least.
+
+'I must have all your heart or none,' he had said to her; and his eyes
+seemed to dominate her as he spoke. 'I should ask more than he did.' And
+she had not dared to answer him.
+
+No; she could not deceive him. She knew that no kindness on her part
+would ever wear in his eyes the semblance of the love he wanted. What
+could she do for him or for herself?
+
+'Can love come by trying?' he had asked; and she could recall vividly
+the bitterness of his tone as he said this.
+
+But the speech over which she pondered most, sometimes for an hour
+together, was a very different one.
+
+'I shall leave you,' he had told her, and there had been a strange light
+in his eyes as he spoke--'I shall leave you to question your own heart.
+Let it speak truly. Perhaps--I do not say it will be so, but perhaps you
+may find that I am more to you than you think. If that time ever comes,
+will you send for me?'
+
+'What did he mean by saying this?' she would ask herself. 'Why did his
+look seem to reproach me and pierce me to the heart? How could I know,
+unless he told me? It is not my fault that I have been so blind. I
+cannot send for him--I cannot! It is too soon, and----'
+
+But Audrey did not finish her sentence. Even under the dark trees the
+hot flush was scorching her face.
+
+'Oh, I am so tired of it all!' she would say, springing to her feet with
+a sudden, quick impatience.
+
+The old tranquil life--the happy, careless life--was gone for ever.
+Cyril--her poor dear Cyril--was in his grave; and now there was this new
+lover, with his proud, gentle wooing: not her old Michael who had so
+satisfied her, but a new, powerful Michael, who half drew and half
+repelled her, and for whom she had no fitting answer.
+
+Audrey was glad when August came and she could find some relief in
+change of scene. Dr. Ross had taken a large roomy cottage at Keswick for
+the summer holidays, and the Harcourts and Kester were to join them.
+Audrey was thankful that her father had not selected Scotland, as his
+son-in-law had suggested; and she made up her mind, in her sensible way,
+that, as far as lay in her power, she would enjoy herself as much as
+possible; and after a time her efforts were not unsuccessful.
+
+Derwent-water was in unusual beauty that year, and a spell of warm,
+sunny weather enabled them to enjoy their boating expeditions on the
+lake. Audrey liked to paddle herself and Mollie to one of the islands,
+and sit there reading and working, while Kester and Percival fished and
+Geraldine roamed by the lake-side with her bonnie boy, sitting like a
+young prince in his little wheeled carriage, beside her. There was a
+long-tailed, shaggy pony belonging to the cottage--a sturdy,
+sure-footed, good-tempered animal, and Dr. Ross would often drive his
+wife through some of the lovely dales. Mrs. Ross never thoroughly
+enjoyed herself in a boat--she had a dislike to find herself surrounded
+by the deep, clear water; and she much preferred the chaise and Jemmy.
+
+'You were always a goose, Emmie, and I suppose that is why I married
+you,' Dr. Ross remarked, as he tickled up Jemmy's broad back with the
+whip.
+
+Nevertheless, the Doctor loved these expeditions quite as much as his
+wife did.
+
+'What a handsome Darby and Joan they look, Jerry!' Mr. Harcourt once
+said, as he walked beside her, with Leonard proudly seated on his
+shoulder. 'I doubt if we shall make such a good-looking couple, my love,
+in thirty years' time.'
+
+But Mr. Harcourt was smiling in a sly fashion, as he took a sidelong
+glance at his graceful wife. Geraldine was looking lovelier than ever in
+the broad-brimmed hat that her husband had chosen for her.
+
+A sad event happened soon after their return to Woodcote. Matthew
+O'Brien died on the anniversary of his son's death. His end had been
+very sudden; no one had suspected that for months an insidious disease
+had been making stealthy progress. He had seemed much as usual, and had
+made no complaint, only Mrs. Baxter had remarked to her father that
+Uncle Mat seemed quieter-like and more peaceable. 'He has given up those
+wearisome prowls of his, and takes more kindly to the chimney-corner,'
+as she said.
+
+But one evening Mat put his pipe down silently before it was half
+smoked, and went off to bed, and the next day he complained of pain and
+drowsiness; and Prissy cooked some of her messes and soothing possets,
+and made much of him as he lay on his pillow looking idly out on the
+October sunshine. And the next day, as the pain and drowsiness did not
+diminish, she very wisely suggested that a doctor should be sent for;
+and as Dr. Foster stood beside him, asking him questions rather gravely,
+a sudden thought came into Mat's mind, and he looked into the doctor's
+eyes a little solemnly.
+
+'You need not be afraid to tell me, doctor,' he said sadly; 'my life has
+not been much good to me, and I shall not be sorry to part with it.' But
+the doctor's answer was kindly evasive.
+
+But two or three nights afterwards, as Thomas O'Brien was sitting beside
+the bed for an hour to relieve Prissy, Mat stretched out his lean arm
+and grasped his brother's coat-sleeve.
+
+'It is coming, Tom,' he said; 'I shall soon be with my boy--that is, if
+God's mercy will grant me admittance to that good place. Give my love to
+Mollie and the little chap, and, Tom, old fellow, God bless you!'
+
+He murmured something drowsily, and then again more clearly:
+
+'Tell Olive that she was not to blame so much, after all. I have been
+too hard on her, poor girl! but she could not help her nature. Isn't
+there something about "To whoever little is forgiven, the same loveth
+little"? I seem to remember Susie reading it.'
+
+And Thomas O'Brien, bending over the gray face, repeated the words
+slowly:
+
+'"Wherefore I say unto you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for
+she loveth much."'
+
+But Mat interrupted him:
+
+'He has forgiven me plenty, lad, and you too, and I love Him for it.'
+
+And those were Matthew O'Brien's last words.
+
+Mat O'Brien did not go unwept to his grave, in spite of his
+unsatisfactory life. His brother mourned for him long and sincerely, and
+in their way Kester and Mollie grieved, too. At Audrey's wish, Mollie
+wrote the full particulars of her father's death to the convent. Sister
+Monica's answer was, in Audrey's opinion, singularly suggestive of the
+ci-devant Mrs. Blake. It was a strange medley of mysticism and motherly
+yearnings, but at the end was a touch of real honest feeling.
+
+     'Tell Audrey that when I pray for my boy I pray for her, too; and,
+     Mollie, do not think that your mother forgets you, for perhaps she
+     may do you better service now than ever she did when we were
+     together. Think of me sometimes, my child. I am glad that your
+     father spoke of me so kindly. I can pray for him now, as I never
+     could when he was living. Poor man! It was an ill world to him, but
+     he is out of it now.
+
+                           Your loving and repentant mother,
+
+                                      'SISTER MONICA MARY.'
+
+Audrey went over to Brail constantly during the autumn and winter months
+that followed Mat's death. Sometimes Mollie accompanied her, but oftener
+she was alone. Nothing cheered Thomas O'Brien more than the society of
+his favourite. He loved to talk to her of the dear ones who had passed
+within the veil, and to Audrey herself the visits were very soothing.
+
+She liked those solitary walks under the gray November skies, or when
+the December sun hung redly behind the distant hedgerows. How often she
+had walked there when Cyril had met her half-way, or she had come upon
+him lingering in the lanes, with Zack bounding beside him. It was in the
+Brail lanes that he first told her of his love, when she had sent him
+sorrowfully away from her; but somehow, as she walked there now, between
+hedgerows white with hoar frost, she thought less of him than of
+Michael; but as yet no message had been sent to recall the wanderer
+home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+BOOTY'S MASTER
+
+     'And she to him will reach her hand,
+     And gazing in his eyes will stand,
+     And know her friend and weep for glee,
+     And cry, "Long, long, I've looked for thee."'
+
+                                   MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+
+
+Kester had spent his Christmas holidays at Woodcote; Audrey loved to
+have him with her. Somehow he seemed to belong to Michael, and the boy
+warmly returned her affection.
+
+'Do you know that Mr. Abercrombie is coming home in March?' he said to
+her the day before he went back to Brighton; 'he is quite well now, and
+Captain Burnett says he is in a fever to get back to England. Do you
+think Captain Burnett will come, too?' and Kester looked anxiously in
+her face.
+
+Audrey could not satisfy Kester on this point; nevertheless, she felt a
+secret hope stirring in her heart that Michael would not stay away much
+longer. After all, was it likely that he would wait for the message when
+he must know how impossible it would be for her to send it? He had been
+away seven months, and by this time he must be growing homesick.
+
+Almost the same thought occurred to Michael as, early in March, he sat
+in the loggia of an old Florentine palace, where he and his friend had a
+suite of rooms.
+
+How long had he been away, he wondered, as he looked out on the
+sunset--seven, nay, eight months; and as yet there had been no recall.
+Had he really expected it? Would it not be as well to go back and plead
+his own cause, and see what these months of absence had done for him, or
+should he wait a little longer?
+
+Michael's self-imposed exile had not been unhappy. His companion was
+congenial to him; the varied scenes through which he had passed, the
+historic interest of the cities, had engrossed and interested him; and,
+perhaps for the first time, he tasted the delights of a well-filled
+purse, as he accumulated art treasures and pictures; but, above all, a
+latent hope, to which he gave no voice or title, kept him patient and
+cheerful.
+
+'It was too soon; but by and by she will find it out for herself,' he
+would say, as he strolled through the galleries, or stood by some
+moss-grown fountain to buy flowers from a dark-eyed Florentine girl.
+
+Should he go back with Abercrombie next week, or should he push on
+towards Greece and the Holy Land? It was a little difficult to decide,
+but somehow Michael never answered that question. Fate took the matter
+into her own hands, as she often does when the knot becomes too
+intricate for the bungling fingers of poor mortals.
+
+Somehow Audrey became convinced in her own mind that Michael would
+certainly accompany his friend back to England. They had started
+together; was it likely that Michael would allow him to return alone?
+and when March came she began to look anxiously for a letter announcing
+this intention.
+
+She was thinking of this one afternoon as she sat talking to her mother.
+It was a cold, dreary day, and Audrey had just remarked that no one in
+Rutherford would think of leaving their fireside on such an afternoon,
+when Geraldine entered, glowing from the cold wind, and looking cosy and
+comfortable in her warm furs.
+
+'My dear, what a day to venture out,' remonstrated her mother; 'even
+Audrey says the wind is cruel.'
+
+'I am not such a foe to the east wind as Michael is,' returned Geraldine
+cheerfully, as she seated herself out of the range of the fire; 'and
+Percival never likes me to cosset myself--that is why I never take cold.
+By the bye, I heard something about Michael a little while ago. Just as
+I was talking to Mrs. Charrington, who should come in but Dora
+Abercrombie! You know Dora, Audrey. She is the second one; but she is
+not half so good-looking as Gwendoline.'
+
+'She is related to Mrs. Charrington, is she not, Gage?'
+
+'Yes; a step-niece, or something of that sort; not a very near
+relationship, but they are very intimate. She says her brother is
+expected in Portland Place to-morrow or the day after.' Here Audrey gave
+a start. 'Take care, my dear: the urn is running over; you are filling
+the teapot too full. Shall I ring for Crauford? No? Well, as I was
+saying'--rather absently, for her eyes were still following the thin
+stream on the tea-tray that Audrey was hurriedly wiping up--'Master Dick
+is expected back--and here Dora was a trifle mysterious; and then it
+came out that he was engaged--had been engaged for the last eight
+months; only the mother of his lady-love had turned restive. But now
+things were smoother, and she hoped that they would soon be married.
+Poor Michael! I am afraid he has not had a very cheerful companion all
+these months.'
+
+'Did Miss Abercrombie mention Michael?' asked Audrey, speaking with
+manifest effort. How tiresome Gage was! as though anyone wanted to hear
+about Dick Abercrombie's love affairs!
+
+'Oh dear yes! and that is the worst part of all,' returned Geraldine,
+with the zest that is always shown by the bearer of bad news, even by a
+superior person like young Mrs. Harcourt. 'I had no idea Michael would
+play truant for so long: actually she says her brother is coming home
+without him! and he is going to spend the summer and autumn in Greece
+and the Holy Land, and perhaps winter in Algiers. In fact, Dick
+Abercrombie says he does not know when he means to come back.'
+
+'What is that you say, my dear?' asked Dr. Ross, who entered the room in
+time to hear the last clause. 'Were you speaking of Michael?'
+
+'Yes, father dear.' And Geraldine willingly recapitulated the whole of
+her speech for his benefit. 'And I do wish someone would write and give
+him a good scolding for staying away so long, as though no one wanted
+him! And we have all been missing him so badly!'
+
+'By the bye, that reminds me that I was called away just now to speak to
+Fergusson, and I have actually left my letter to Michael open on my
+study-table; and I meant it to go by this post. Do you mind just
+slipping it into its envelope, Audrey?--it is already directed. Thank
+you, my dear,' as Audrey silently left the room.
+
+Was Dr. Ross really anxious about his letter, or had he noticed the
+white look on his daughter's face, and feared that others might notice
+it too?
+
+Audrey never knew how long she sat before her father's study-table,
+neither could she have recalled a single thought that passed through her
+mind. A dull throbbing pain was at her heart; the cold numbness that had
+crept over her as Michael had bidden her good-bye, and which kept her
+dumb before him, was over her now--some strange pulse seemed beating in
+her head. He was going still farther away from her. He was not coming
+back. He would never come back. Something would happen to him. She would
+never see his kind face again--never, never!
+
+Perhaps this long silence had angered him--Michael, who had always been
+so gentle to her, on whose face she had never seen a frown! Michael had
+grown weary of endurance, and had given up all hope of winning her. Oh,
+if he had only trusted her! if he would only have believed that she
+would have done her very best to make him happy! How could he be so
+cruel to himself and to her? How could he have the heart to punish her
+so bitterly, as though she were to blame? Could she help her nature any
+more than she could help this separation from her dearest friend?
+
+And then there came over her the deadly feeling of possible loss, and a
+desolation too terrible to contemplate. She had mourned very tenderly
+for Cyril; but if Michael died--if any ill should befall him in those
+distant lands--'Oh, I could not bear it!' was her inward cry. 'Life
+without Michael would be impossible,' and as this thought flashed
+through her mind her eyes suddenly fell on an empty space at the end of
+her father's letter. With a sudden impulse she took up the pen and wrote
+three words across the page in her clear, legible writing--'Michael,
+come. Audrey.' She was almost breathless with her haste as she thrust it
+into the envelope, and carried it to the boy who was waiting for the
+letters. Then she went back to the drawing-room, for she dare not trust
+herself to be alone another moment. What had she done? What would
+Michael think of her? What must she think of herself? No wonder
+Geraldine looked at her in surprise as she crossed the room and took up
+her work.
+
+'What a time you have been, Audrey!' she said, a little reproachfully.
+'I have been waiting to bid you good-bye. Father is going to walk with
+me to Hillside, so Percival will not mind my being so late. How cold
+your face and hands are, and I am as warm as possible! You have been
+running about those draughty passages, and have taken a chill. She looks
+pale, doesn't she, mother?'
+
+'Come, come,' interrupted her father impatiently, 'you must not keep me
+waiting any longer, Geraldine. Sit down by the fire and warm yourself,
+my dear.'
+
+And for one moment Dr. Ross's hand lay lightly on Audrey's brown hair.
+Did he guess the real meaning of the girl's downcast and sorrowful
+looks? And why was there a pleased smile on his face as he followed his
+eldest daughter out of the room?
+
+'I shall write to Michael and tell him to come home,' he said to
+himself, as he buttoned up his great-coat. 'I promised him that I would
+watch over his interests, and I shall tell him that in my opinion there
+is some hope for him now.'
+
+The next few days were terrible to Audrey. More than once she feared she
+would be ill. She could not sleep properly. The mornings, the
+afternoons, the evenings, were endless to her. Mollie's merry chatter
+seemed to jar on her. Her mother's kindly commonplace remarks seemed
+devoid of interest, and yet above all things she dreaded to be alone.
+Was she growing nervous? for any sudden sound, an unaccustomed footstep,
+even the clanging of the door-bell, made her start, and drove the blood
+from her heart. Would he write or would he telegraph? Should she hear
+one day that he was on his way home? Audrey was asking herself these
+questions morning, noon, and night. She felt as though the suspense
+would wear her out in time. If anyone had told Audrey that for the
+first time in her life she had all the symptoms that belong to a
+certain well-known disease--that these cold and hot fits, this
+self-distrustfulness and new timidity that were transforming her into a
+different Audrey, were only its salient features--she would have scouted
+the idea very fiercely. That she was in love with Michael, and that her
+love for Cyril was a very dim, shadowy sort of affection compared with
+her love for Michael,--such a thought would have utterly shocked her;
+and yet it was the truth. Michael had always been more to her than ever
+she had guessed, and this long absence had taught her the unmistakable
+fact that she could not do without him.
+
+Audrey struggled on as well as she could through those restless,
+miserable days. She would not give in; she had never given in in her
+life to any passing tide of emotion, and she would not be weak now.
+Every morning, after a wakeful, unrefreshing night, she braced herself
+to meet the day's duties. She read French and German with Mollie; she
+superintended her practising, and only wandered off in a dream when
+Mollie's scales and exercises became too monotonous. She went up to
+Hillside and played with Leonard in the nursery, and though Geraldine's
+sharp eyes discovered that something was amiss, and that Audrey was not
+in her usual spirits, she had the tact and wisdom not to press for an
+immediate confidence; and Audrey was very grateful for this forbearance.
+Audrey's sturdy nature could brook no self-indulgence, and though the
+March winds were cold, and the Brail lanes deep in miry clay, she
+persisted in paying her accustomed weekly visit to Thomas O'Brien.
+
+Mollie had a cold, and so had established a claim to remain by the
+fireside; but Audrey would listen to no weak persuasion to ensconce
+herself comfortably in the opposite easy-chair. On the contrary, she put
+on her thickest boots, and, tucking up her skirts, braved wind and mud,
+and even a cold mizzle of rain, on her way back, and had her reward, for
+the walk freshened her, and in cheering her old friend she felt her own
+spirits revive.
+
+She was in a happier mood as she let herself in, and shook out her wet
+cloak. She was in far too disreputable a state to present herself in the
+drawing-room; besides, she was late, and she must get ready for dinner.
+She ran upstairs lightly, but at the top of the staircase she suddenly
+stopped as though she had been turned to stone. And yet there was
+nothing very astonishing in the fact that a small brown dog, with very
+short legs, should be pattering in a cheerful manner down the corridor,
+or that he should utter a whine of friendly and delighted recognition
+when he saw Audrey; and if she stared at him as though he were some
+ghostly apparition, that was not Booty's fault. But the next moment she
+had caught him up, and had darted with him into her own room.
+
+'Oh, Booty, Booty!' she gasped, as the little animal licked her pale
+face in a most feeling manner; 'to think he has come, Booty!' And if the
+application of a warm tongue could have given comfort and assurance,
+Audrey could have had plenty of both.
+
+For a little while she could do nothing but sit there hugging the dog,
+and making little plaintive speeches to him, until she heard Mollie's
+step at the door, and then she put him down hastily.
+
+'Oh, Audrey dear!' exclaimed Mollie, breathless with excitement. 'Have
+you really got back at last? They are all asking for you. Dinner is
+nearly ready, and you have not begun to dress yet. And who do you think
+is in the drawing-room?'
+
+For Booty, who always knew when he was not wanted, had pattered softly
+out of the room, thinking it high time to rejoin his master.
+
+'Is it Michael?' asked Audrey, with her face well hidden in her
+wardrobe.
+
+'To think of your guessing like that!' returned Mollie in a vexed tone.
+'Whatever put Captain Burnett in your head, Audrey? Everyone else is so
+surprised. Mrs. Ross nearly jumped off her chair when she heard his
+voice. He has been here two hours, and we have all been so busy getting
+his room ready.'
+
+'I am very glad he has come,' returned Audrey, trying to speak as usual;
+'but now will you go down, Mollie dear? for I shall dress more quickly
+if you do not talk to me. You may give me my dress if you like. There,
+that will do.' For Mollie's chatter was unendurable.
+
+'How was she to go down and meet him before them all?' she thought, as
+her trembling fingers bungled with the fastening. Her cheeks were
+burning, and yet her hands were cold as ice. Would he see how nervous
+she was, and how she dreaded to meet him? And yet the thought that he
+was there--in the house--and that in a few minutes she should hear his
+beloved voice, made her almost dizzy with happiness. And as she clasped
+the brilliant cross on her neck she hardly dare look at herself, for
+fear she should read her own secret in her eyes.
+
+The gong sounded before she was ready, and she dared not linger, for
+fear Mollie should come again in search of her. Without giving herself
+time for thought, she hurried down, and stood panting a little before
+the drawing-room door. Yes, they were all there: her father and mother
+and Mollie; and someone else--imperfectly seen through a sort of
+haze--was there too! Audrey never knew what word of greeting came to her
+lips as Michael took her hand. Her eyes were never lifted, as she felt
+that strong, warm pressure. His low-toned 'I have come, Audrey,' might
+mean anything or nothing, and was met by absolute silence on her part.
+Perhaps Michael felt this meeting embarrassing, for he dropped her hand
+in another moment and spoke to Mollie, and Audrey took refuge with her
+father.
+
+But dinner was on the table, and she must take her seat opposite to him.
+It was Mollie who was beside him. Happily, no one spoke to her for the
+first few minutes. Dr. Ross was questioning Michael about his route, and
+Michael seemed to have a great deal to say about his journey.
+
+Audrey recovered herself, and breathed a little more freely. He was
+talking to her father, and she could venture one glance at him. How well
+he looked! He was not so pale, and his moustache seemed darker--she had
+never thought him handsome before. But at this point, and as though
+aware of her scrutiny, Michael turned his face full on her, and a flash
+from the keen blue eyes made her head droop over her plate. During the
+rest of dinner she scarcely spoke, and more than once Mrs. Ross looked
+at her in some perplexity. Audrey was very strange, she thought. Had she
+and Michael quarrelled, that they had met so coldly, with not even a
+cousinly kiss after his long absence. And now they did not speak to each
+other!
+
+Dinner was later than usual that night, and the prayer-bell sounded
+before they left the table. Audrey whispered to Mollie to play the hymn;
+but she was almost sorry she had done so when she found that Michael had
+no hymn-book, and she must offer him hers. He took it from her, perhaps
+because he noticed that her hand was not steady; and she could hear his
+clear, full bass, though she could not utter a note.
+
+He was still beside her as they left the schoolroom; but as she was
+about to follow her mother and Mollie, she felt his hand on hers.
+
+'Come with me a moment,' he said. 'I want to show you something.'
+
+And there was no resisting the firm grasp that compelled her to obey. He
+was taking her to her father's study; and there he shut the door, as
+though to exclude the outer world. She was trembling with the fear of
+what he would say to her, and how she was to answer him, when he came up
+to her and said, in his old familiar voice:
+
+'Are you never going to look at me again, Audrey?'
+
+Something amused, and yet caressing, in his tone made her raise her
+eyes, and the look that met hers said so plainly that he understood
+everything, that her embarrassment and shyness passed away for ever; and
+as he took her in his arms, with a word or two that told her of his deep
+inward gladness, a sense of well-being and utter content seemed to
+assure her that she had found her true rest at last.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI
+
+'LOVE'S AFTERMATH'
+
+     'I seek no copy now of life's first half:
+     Leave here the pages with long musing curled,
+     And write me new my future's epigraph,
+     New angel mine, unhoped for in the world.'
+
+                                    MRS. BROWNING.
+
+
+Neither of them spoke for some minutes; perhaps Michael's strong emotion
+felt the need of silence. But presently he said in a voice that thrilled
+her with its tenderness:
+
+'Audrey, you must never be afraid of me again.'
+
+'I shall never need to be afraid again,' she returned softly. 'Oh,
+Michael, if you only knew how dreadful it has been all the week! I would
+not go through it again for worlds.'
+
+'Has it been so bad as that?' in his old rallying tone, for he saw how
+greatly she was moved.
+
+'You have no idea how bad it was. I felt that I had done something very
+bold and unmaidenly in writing that postscript to father's letter. I had
+longed for your return; but after that I began to dread it: I was so
+afraid of what you must think of me.'
+
+'I think you have known my opinion on that subject for a great many
+years,' he replied gently. 'If you had not been different from other
+girls, if you had not been immeasurably above them all in my eyes, I
+would never have asked you to send me that message. I knew I could rely
+on your perfect truth, and you have not disappointed me.'
+
+This delicate flattery soothed her and appeased her sensitiveness.
+Michael watched her for a moment; then he drew up a chair to the fire in
+his old way.
+
+'You must sit there and talk to me for a little while,' he said
+quietly.
+
+And as she looked at him rather doubtfully, and suggested that her
+mother would be wondering at their absence, he negatived the idea at
+once.
+
+'By this time your father will have told her everything; he has been in
+my confidence all these months. No, they will not want us, and I have
+not seen you yet--at least, you have not seen me; I am quite sure of
+that.' And as Audrey's dimples came into play at this remark, he very
+nearly made her feel shy again by saying, 'You have no idea how lovely
+you have grown, Audrey! Has anyone told you so, I wonder?'
+
+'No, of course not. Who do you think would talk such nonsense to me?'
+
+But her blush made him still more certain of the fact.
+
+'At any rate, it is the dearest face in the world to me,' he went on,
+still more earnestly. 'Audrey, I think even if you had not written those
+three little words, I must still have come home. I could not have stayed
+away from you any longer.'
+
+'If I had only known that, I might have spared myself a great deal of
+pain,' she replied quickly; 'but they told me that you were going to
+Greece and the Holy Land, and Mr. Abercrombie had come back alone, and I
+thought--I thought that I should never see you again.'
+
+'I began to have the same sort of feeling myself, and then I was so
+tired of waiting. How long have I wanted you, Audrey?--ten or twelve
+years, at least. I begin to think that there never was such a fellow for
+constancy.'
+
+'Ten or twelve years! What can you mean, Michael?'
+
+But she knew well enough what he meant, only she was woman enough to
+love to hear him say it.
+
+'Oh, it was quite twelve years ago! I can remember the occasion quite
+well. You were in a short white frock, and you had your hair streaming
+over your shoulders. You were such a pretty little girl, Audrey. I
+admired you far more than I admired Gage, with all her regular
+features.'
+
+'Oh, what nonsense, Michael!'
+
+'Nonsense! You will tell me next that you do not remember asking me to
+give you a kiss. "I want to kiss you, Mike, because you are so nice and
+smart." Do you think I shall ever forget that? I lost my heart to you
+then.'
+
+'You must not expect me to remember those things,' she returned,
+blushing like a rose.
+
+'No, darling, I suppose not; you were only a child then. But, all the
+same, these memories are very sweet to me. You have been my one and only
+love, and you know that now.'
+
+'Oh, Michael!' And now the gray eyes filled with tears, for these words
+sounded like a reproach to her.
+
+'You must not misunderstand me,' he returned, shocked at her evident
+misconception of his words. 'Do you think that I begrudge the love you
+gave that poor fellow? Some day, when you are my wife, I will tell you
+all I think on this subject; but not now--not to-night, of all nights,
+when I know and feel for the first time that my treasure is in my own
+keeping.'
+
+And then he stopped, and, in rather an agitated voice, begged her that
+he might not see tears in her dear eyes to-night.
+
+'I did not mean to be foolish,' she returned, in a low voice; 'only,
+when I think of all you have suffered, and how patient you have been,
+and how beautifully you bore it all for our sakes, I feel as though I
+should never make up to you for all you have gone through. Michael'--and
+here her look was a little wistful--'are you sure that I shall never
+disappoint you--that what I have to give will content you?'
+
+But his answer fully satisfied her on this point. He was more than
+content, he said; he needed no assurances of her affection--he would
+never need them. The first look at her face had told him all he wanted
+to know.
+
+'I think I can read your very thoughts, Audrey--that I know you better
+than you know yourself;' and as Michael said this there was a smile upon
+his face that seemed to baffle her--a smile so penetrating and sweet
+that it lingered in her memory long afterwards.
+
+And a few minutes later Michael proved the truth of his words. He was
+showing her the ring that he had chosen--a half-hoop of diamonds of the
+finest water, and their lustre and brilliancy almost dazzled Audrey.
+
+'I remember your love for diamonds,' he said, as he took her hand.
+
+But she did not answer him. She was looking rather sadly at a little
+gold ring she had always worn.
+
+'Do not take it off!' he said hastily, as he read the tender reluctance
+in her face. 'Dear Audrey, why should not my diamonds keep company with
+his ring?' And, as her eyes expressed her gratitude, he slipped the
+brilliant ring into its place. 'They will soon have to make way for
+another. The diamonds will make a capital guard.'
+
+But though he evidently expected an answer to this, Audrey made no
+response, except to remark on the lateness of the hour; and then Michael
+did consent to adjourn to the drawing-room.
+
+They were eagerly expected and heartily welcomed, and as her father
+folded her in his arms with a murmured blessing, and she received her
+mother's tearful congratulations, Audrey felt how truly they appreciated
+her choice. On this occasion there were no drawbacks, no whispered fear
+of what Geraldine and her husband might say. Mrs. Ross begged that she
+might be allowed to carry the good news to Hillside. They were coming up
+to dinner, and she thought that it was due to them that they should be
+prepared beforehand; and, as everyone assented to this, Mrs. Ross
+started early the next morning on her delightful embassage.
+
+But she had miscalculated the amount of pleasure that her news would
+impart. Geraldine cried with joy when she heard the news, and nothing
+would satisfy her except to put on her bonnet and walk back with her
+mother to Woodcote.
+
+She interrupted a delightful _tete-a-tete_ between the lovers. Not that
+either of them minded; for, as Michael sensibly remarked, he expected
+that they would have plenty of _tete-a-tetes_ in their life, and Audrey
+was sufficiently fond of her sister to welcome her under any
+circumstances.
+
+'How did you think I could wait until the evening?' she said, as she
+threw her arms round Audrey. 'Oh, my darling, do you know how glad I am
+about this? And to think that no one ever imagined it would be Michael!'
+And then, as he gave her a brotherly kiss, and begged that he, too,
+might be congratulated, she continued earnestly: 'Yes, indeed; and we
+have all been as blind and stupid as possible! And yet, when one comes
+to think of it, you and Audrey are cut out for each other.'
+
+'I was afraid you might say something about the disparity in our
+ages--five-and-twenty and forty; and actually I have some gray hairs
+already, Gage.'
+
+'Nonsense!' she returned indignantly. 'I never saw you look younger and
+better in your life; and as for disparity, as you call it, isn't it just
+the same between Percival and myself? and can any couple be happier? If
+you are only as good to Audrey as Percival is to me, she will be the
+happiest woman in the world!'
+
+It was a pity Mr. Harcourt could not see his wife as she made this
+speech, for she looked so lovely in her matronly dignity that Michael
+and Audrey exchanged an admiring glance. But the climax of their success
+was felt to be reached when Mr. Harcourt arrived that evening.
+
+'You have done the best day's work that ever you did in your life when
+you said "Yes" to Burnett!' was his first speech to Audrey; and then he
+had turned very red, and wrung her hand with such violence that it
+throbbed with pain.
+
+'I think you ought to give her a kiss, Percy,' suggested his wife a
+little mischievously; for it was well known that Mr. Harcourt objected
+to any such demonstration, except to his own wife.
+
+'No, thank you,' returned Audrey, stepping back. 'I am quite sure of
+Percival's sympathy without putting it to such a painful proof.'
+
+'I shall kiss Audrey on her wedding-day,' replied Mr. Harcourt solemnly;
+'that is, if her husband will permit me,' with a bow to Michael.
+
+But this remark drove his sister-in-law to the other end of the room, so
+that she lost a certain straightforward and complimentary speech that
+gave a great deal of pleasure to Michael, and which he never could be
+induced to repeat to her.
+
+No one could doubt Audrey's happiness after the first few days of
+strangeness had worn off, and she had grown used to her new position as
+Michael's _fiancee_. Michael had been very careful not to scare her at
+first--he had no wish to bring back the shyness that had made their
+first evening such a misery to them both--and his forbearance was
+rewarded when he saw the old frankness and joyousness return, and Audrey
+became her own sweet self again.
+
+Michael was an ardent lover, but he was not an exacting one: Audrey
+could have had as much freedom as she needed during their brief
+engagement, but she had ceased to desire such freedom.
+
+She remembered sometimes with faint, unavoidable regret that Cyril's
+demonstrativeness had at times wearied her; but she had no such feeling
+with Michael: when he left her for a few days to complete the purchase
+of a pretty little property he had secured for their future home in one
+of the loveliest spots in Surrey, she was as restless during his absence
+as ever Geraldine had been.
+
+Michael was surprised to find how she had missed him, and how overjoyed
+she was at his return; but he never told her so, or ever alluded to the
+mistake that had doomed them both to such misery.
+
+'My innocent darling! how could she know that I loved her, when I never
+told her so? It was I who would have been to blame if she had married
+Cyril. God grant that in that case she might never have found out her
+mistake; but I do not know. She would always have cared too much for
+Michael, and he would have found it out in time;' but he kept such
+thoughts to himself.
+
+Audrey had no objection to offer when Michael pleaded that they should
+be married early in August. He had waited long enough, she knew, and
+there was nothing to gain by waiting.
+
+But she had a long talk with her mother and Geraldine about Mollie, whom
+she still regarded as her special _protegee_.
+
+'Michael has Kester,' she suggested; 'so I daresay he will not mind
+Mollie sharing our home.'
+
+'You will make a great mistake if you ask him any such question,'
+returned Geraldine, in her practical, matter-of-fact way. 'Kester will
+be at Oxford, and during the long vacation he will join some reading
+party or other--Michael told me so; but Mollie would want a home all the
+year round. Why do you not leave her at Woodcote? Mother will be
+dreadfully dull without you at first, and, of course, I cannot always be
+with her. You are very fond of Mollie, are you not, mother?'
+
+'She is a dear, good child, and I should love to have her with me,' was
+Mrs. Ross's reply. 'That is a clever thought of yours, my love, and
+Michael certainly will want his wife to himself--men always do.'
+
+'If you really think so, mother, and if Mollie does not mind, she shall
+stay at Woodcote,' was Audrey's reply.
+
+And when Mollie was consulted she proved quite willing to do as they all
+wished.
+
+'Of course, dear Mrs. Ross will be dull. And I know I should only be in
+Captain Burnett's way,' argued Mollie, a little tearfully. 'I knew that
+from the first. I shall miss you dreadfully, Audrey. No one will ever
+take your place; but I shall feel as though I were helping you somehow.'
+
+'Yes, and then you will pay me long visits, Mollie; and, of course,
+Michael will often bring me to see mother.'
+
+And this charming prospect, and the promise that she should be Audrey's
+bridesmaid, speedily consoled Mollie.
+
+Michael had stipulated that their honeymoon should be spent in Scotland,
+and to Audrey's amusement Braemar was the place he finally selected,
+and he would have the very cottage, or rather cottages, that Dr. Ross
+had taken for his family.
+
+'We can shut up some of the rooms and only use as many as we want,' he
+said, when Mrs. Ross had complained of the roominess. 'We are rich
+people, and can afford it; and as Crauford is to be Audrey's maid, she
+can come with us and see that things are comfortable. Do you remember
+that sitting-room, Audrey, and the horse-hair sofa, and the
+rowan-berries and heather in the big china jars? By the bye, you must
+have a gray tweed dress and a deerstalker cap, and look as you used to
+look; and there is the little bridge where Gage and I used to meet you
+all when you had had a day's outing on the moors. Shall you not love to
+go there again, Audrey?
+
+And in answer Audrey said 'Yes' rather demurely.
+
+But she was not demure at all when two months afterwards she sat on the
+little bridge in the sunset, watching the very same ducks dibble with
+their yellow bills in the brook that trickled so musically over the
+stones, while Michael stood beside her, lazily throwing in pebbles for
+Booty's amusement; on the contrary, she was laughing and talking with a
+great deal of animation, and, strange to say, she wore the gray tweed,
+and the deerstalker cap was on her bright brown hair.
+
+'We have had such a delicious day!' she was saying. 'I think there is
+nothing, after all, like a Scotch moor. Do look at those ducks, Michael;
+how angry they are with Booty, and how ridiculous they look waddling
+over those wet stones!'
+
+'I was thinking of something else,' he replied; and his tone made Audrey
+look up rather quickly. 'Do you remember your tirade on the subject of
+single blessedness, my Lady Bountiful, and how freedom outbalanced all
+the delights of wedded bliss? I recollect we were on the moors then, and
+Kester was with us, and I took out my pocket-book and wrote down the
+date. Well, I will be magnanimous and not ask an awkward question. Six
+weeks of married life is not such a long time, after all.'
+
+But she interrupted him with some impatience:
+
+'Michael, how can you recall such nonsense? But of course you are only
+doing it to tease me. As though I were not much happier than I was
+then!'
+
+'Are you really happier, Audrey--really and truly, my darling?'
+
+'Oh, Michael, what a question! Am I not your wife? Is not that answer
+enough? Do you think I would change places with any other woman in the
+world, or even with my old self?'
+
+And as he looked at her bright face he knew that she was speaking the
+truth, and that Audrey Burnett so loved and reverenced her husband that
+she was likely to be a happier woman than Audrey Ross had been.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.
+
+
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+
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+MACBETH, A.R.A., JOHN PETTIE, R.A., H. MACBETH-RAEBURN, D. HERDMAN,
+W. J. LEITCH, ROBERT HERDMAN, R.S.A., and J. ECKFORD LAUDER.
+
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+MACBETH, A.R.A., C. O. MURRAY, CLARK STANTON, R.S.A., GOURLAY STEELL,
+R.S.A., F. S. WALKER, R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., and J. B. MACDONALD, A.R.S.A.
+
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+BOUGH, R.S.A., R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., W. M'TAGGART, A.R.S.A., J. B.
+MACDONALD, A.R.S.A., and A. H. TOURRIER.
+
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+BOUGH, R.S.A.
+
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+HERDMAN, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., M. L. GOW, D. Y. CAMERON, LOCKHART
+BOGLE, and ALFRED HARTLEY.
+
+6. THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN. With 10 Illustrations by Sir J. E. MILLAIS,
+Bart., HUGH CAMERON, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., and
+WAL. PAGET.
+
+7. A LEGEND OF MONTROSE and THE BLACK DWARF. With 7 Illustrations by Sir
+GEORGE REID, P.R.S.A., GEORGE HAY, R.S.A., HORATIO MACCULLOCH, R.S.A.,
+W. E. LOCKHART, R.S.A., H. MACBETH-RAEBURN, and T. SCOTT.
+
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+MACBETH-RAEBURN.
+
+9. IVANHOE. With 12 Illustrations by AD. LALAUZE.
+
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+
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+
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+
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+BOUGH, R.S.A., HERBERT DICKSEE, W. STRANG, LOCKHART BOGLE, C. J. HOLMES,
+and F. S. WALKER.
+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+JAMES ORROCK, R.I., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., W. HOLE, R.S.A., G. HAY, R.S.A.,
+T. SCOTT, A.R.S.A., W. BOUCHER, and FRANK SHORT.
+
+19. THE BETROTHED and THE TALISMAN. With 10 Illustrations by HERBERT
+DICKSEE, WAL. PAGET, and J. LE BLANT.
+
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+
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+P.R.S.A., JOHN PETTIE, R.A., R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A., and ROBERT HERDMAN,
+R.S.A.
+
+22. ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. With 10 Illustrations by R. DE LOS RIOS.
+
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+
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+
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+desirable.... Type, paper, illustrations, are altogether admirable."
+
+_MAGAZINE OF ART._--"Size, type, paper, and printing, to say nothing of
+the excessively liberal and charming introduction of the illustrations,
+make this perhaps the most desirable edition of Scott ever issued on
+this side of the Border."
+
+_DAILY CHRONICLE._--"There is absolutely no fault to be found with it,
+as to paper, type, or arrangement."
+
+
+
+
+THE WORKS OF
+THOMAS HARDY
+
+Collected Edition
+
+
+1. TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES.
+
+2. FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD.
+
+3. THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE.
+
+4. A PAIR OF BLUE EYES.
+
+5. TWO ON A TOWER.
+
+6. THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE.
+
+7. THE WOODLANDERS.
+
+8. JUDE THE OBSCURE.
+
+9. THE TRUMPET-MAJOR.
+
+10. THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA.
+
+11. A LAODICEAN.
+
+12. DESPERATE REMEDIES.
+
+13. WESSEX TALES.
+
+14. LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES.
+
+15. A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES.
+
+16. UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE.
+
+17. THE WELL-BELOVED.
+
+18. WESSEX POEMS, and other Verses.
+
+19. POEMS OF THE PAST AND THE PRESENT.
+
+20. A CHANGED MAN, THE WAITING SUPPER, and other Tales.
+
+
+
+
+THE WORKS OF
+CHARLES KINGSLEY
+
+
+WESTWARD HO!
+
+HYPATIA; or, New Foes with an old Face.
+
+TWO YEARS AGO.
+
+ALTON LOCKE, Tailor and Poet. An Autobiography.
+
+HEREWARD THE WAKE, "Last of the English."
+
+YEAST: A Problem.
+
+POEMS: including The Saint's Tragedy, Andromeda, Songs, Ballads, etc.
+
+THE WATER-BABIES: A Fairy Tale for a Land-Baby. With Illustrations by
+LINLEY SAMBOURNE.
+
+THE HEROES; or, Greek Fairy Tales for my Children. With Illustrations by
+the Author.
+
+GLAUCUS; or, The Wonders of the Shore. With Illustrations.
+
+MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY; or, First Lessons in Earth Lore for Children.
+With Illustrations.
+
+AT LAST. A Christmas in the West Indies. With Illustrations.
+
+THE HERMITS.
+
+HISTORICAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
+
+PLAYS AND PURITANS, and other Historical Essays.
+
+THE ROMAN AND THE TEUTON.
+
+PROSE IDYLLS, New and Old.
+
+SANITARY AND SOCIAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
+
+LITERARY AND GENERAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
+
+ALL SAINTS' DAY: and other Sermons.
+
+DISCIPLINE: and other Sermons.
+
+THE GOOD NEWS OF GOD. Sermons.
+
+GOSPEL OF THE PENTATEUCH.
+
+SERMONS FOR THE TIMES.
+
+VILLAGE SERMONS, AND TOWN AND COUNTRY SERMONS.
+
+WESTMINSTER SERMONS.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS
+OF
+F. MARION CRAWFORD
+
+
+1. MR. ISAACS: A Tale of Modern India.
+
+2. DOCTOR CLAUDIUS: A True Story.
+
+3. A ROMAN SINGER.
+
+4. ZOROASTER.
+
+5. MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX.
+
+6. A TALE OF A LONELY PARISH.
+
+7. PAUL PATOFF.
+
+8. WITH THE IMMORTALS.
+
+9. GREIFENSTEIN.
+
+10. TAQUISARA: A Novel.
+
+11. A ROSE OF YESTERDAY.
+
+12. SANT' ILARIO.
+
+13. A CIGARETTE-MAKER'S ROMANCE.
+
+14. KHALED: A Tale of Arabia.
+
+15. THE THREE FATES.
+
+16. THE WITCH OF PRAGUE.
+
+17. MARION DARCHE: A Story without Comment.
+
+18. KATHARINE LAUDERDALE.
+
+19. THE CHILDREN OF THE KING.
+
+20. PIETRO GHISLERI.
+
+21. DON ORSINO.
+
+22. CASA BRACCIO.
+
+23. ADAM JOHNSTONE'S SON.
+
+24. THE RALSTONS.
+
+25. CORLEONE: A Tale of Sicily.
+
+26. VIA CRUCIS: A Romance of the Second Crusade.
+
+27. IN THE PALACE OF THE KING: A Love Story of Old Madrid.
+
+28. CECILIA: A Story of Modern Rome.
+
+29. MARIETTA: A Maid of Venice.
+
+30. THE HEART OF ROME.
+
+31. SOPRANO: A Portrait.
+
+32. THE PRIMADONNA.
+
+33. THE DIVA'S RUBY.
+
+34. "WHOSOEVER SHALL OFFEND----"
+
+35. A LADY OF ROME.
+
+36. ARETHUSA.
+
+37. THE WHITE SISTER.
+
+38. STRADELLA: An Old Italian Love Tale.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS
+OF
+ROLF BOLDREWOOD
+
+
+1. ROBBERY UNDER ARMS: A Story of Life and Adventure in the Bush and in
+the Gold-fields of Australia.
+
+2. A MODERN BUCCANEER.
+
+3. THE MINER'S RIGHT: A Tale of the Australian Gold-fields.
+
+4. THE SQUATTER'S DREAM.
+
+5. A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON.
+
+6. A COLONIAL REFORMER.
+
+7. NEVERMORE.
+
+8. PLAIN LIVING: A Bush Idyll.
+
+9. MY RUN HOME.
+
+10. THE CROOKED STICK; or, Pollie's Probation.
+
+11. OLD MELBOURNE MEMORIES.
+
+12. WAR TO THE KNIFE; or, Tangata Maori.
+
+13. BABES IN THE BUSH.
+
+14. IN BAD COMPANY, and other Stories.
+
+
+
+
+By H. G. WELLS
+
+
+THE PLATTNER STORY: and others.
+
+TALES OF SPACE AND TIME.
+
+THE STOLEN BACILLUS: and other Incidents.
+
+THE INVISIBLE MAN. A Grotesque Romance.
+
+LOVE AND MR. LEWISHAM. A Story of a very Young Couple.
+
+WHEN THE SLEEPER WAKES.
+
+THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON.
+
+TWELVE STORIES AND A DREAM.
+
+THE FOOD OF THE GODS AND HOW IT CAME TO EARTH.
+
+KIPPS: The Story of a Simple Soul.
+
+IN THE DAYS OF THE COMET.
+
+TONO-BUNGAY.
+
+
+
+
+By A. E. W. MASON
+
+
+THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER.
+
+THE PHILANDERERS.
+
+MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY.
+
+
+
+
+By EGERTON CASTLE
+
+
+"LA BELLA": and others.
+
+MARSHFIELD THE OBSERVER.
+
+
+
+
+By AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE
+
+
+THE BATH COMEDY.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF
+ROSA N. CAREY
+
+
+_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE._--"A clever delineator of character, possessed of
+a reserve of strength in a quiet, easy, flowing style, Miss Carey never
+fails to please a large class of readers."
+
+_STANDARD._--"Miss Carey has the gift of writing naturally and simply,
+her pathos is true and unforced, and her conversations are sprightly and
+sharp."
+
+_LADY._--"Miss Carey's novels are always welcome; they are out of the
+common run, immaculately pure, and very high in tone."
+
+
+Nearly 800,000 of these works have been printed.
+
+1. NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 58th Thousand.
+
+2. WEE WIFIE. 42nd Thousand.
+
+3. BARBARA HEATHCOTE'S TRIAL. 35th Thousand.
+
+4. ROBERT ORD'S ATONEMENT. 30th Thousand.
+
+5. WOOED AND MARRIED. 40th Thousand.
+
+6. HERIOT'S CHOICE. 29th Thousand.
+
+7. QUEENIE'S WHIM. 34th Thousand.
+
+8. NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS. 43rd Thousand.
+
+9. MARY ST JOHN. 27th Thousand.
+
+10. FOR LILIAS. 26th Thousand.
+
+11. UNCLE MAX. 36th Thousand.
+
+12. RUE WITH A DIFFERENCE. 24th Thousand.
+
+13. THE HIGHWAY OF FATE. 25th Thousand.
+
+14. ONLY THE GOVERNESS. 40th Thousand.
+
+15. LOVER OR FRIEND? 31st Thousand.
+
+16. BASIL LYNDHURST. 26th Thousand.
+
+17. SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS. 27th Thousand.
+
+18. THE OLD, OLD STORY. 30th Thousand.
+
+19. THE MISTRESS OF BRAE FARM. 32nd Thousand.
+
+20. MRS. ROMNEY and "BUT MEN MUST WORK." 14th Thousand.
+
+21. OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES. 5th Thousand.
+
+22. HERB OF GRACE. 27th Thousand.
+
+23. A PASSAGE PERILOUS. 25th Thousand.
+
+24. AT THE MOORINGS. 21st Thousand.
+
+25. THE HOUSEHOLD OF PETER. 23rd Thousand.
+
+26. NO FRIEND LIKE A SISTER. 21st Thousand.
+
+27. THE ANGEL OF FORGIVENESS. 20th Thousand.
+
+28. THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE HILL. 18th Thousand.
+
+29. THE KEY OF THE UNKNOWN. 17th Thousand.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS AND TALES OF
+CHARLOTTE M. YONGE
+
+
+THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE. With Illustrations by KATE GREENAWAY.
+
+HEARTSEASE; or, the Brother's Wife. New Edition. With Illustrations by
+KATE GREENAWAY.
+
+DYNEVOR TERRACE; or, the Clue of Life. With Illustrations by ADRIAN
+STOKES.
+
+THE DAISY CHAIN; or, Aspirations. A Family Chronicle. With Illustrations
+by J. P. ATKINSON.
+
+THE TRIAL: More Links of the Daisy Chain. With Illustrations by J. P.
+ATKINSON.
+
+THE PILLARS OF THE HOUSE; or, Under Wode, under Rode. Two Vols. With
+Illustrations by HERBERT GANDY.
+
+THE YOUNG STEPMOTHER; or, a Chronicle of Mistakes. With Illustrations by
+MARIAN HUXLEY.
+
+THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. With Illustrations by ADRIAN STOKES.
+
+THE THREE BRIDES. With Illustrations by ADRIAN STOKES.
+
+MY YOUNG ALCIDES: A Faded Photograph. With Illustrations by ADRIAN
+STOKES.
+
+THE CAGED LION. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+THE DOVE IN THE EAGLE'S NEST. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+THE CHAPLET OF PEARLS; or, the White and Black Ribaumont. With
+Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+LADY HESTER; or, Ursula's Narrative; and THE DANVERS PAPERS. With
+Illustrations by JANE E. COOK.
+
+MAGNUM BONUM; or, Mother Carey's Brood. With Illustrations by W. J.
+HENNESSY.
+
+LOVE AND LIFE: an Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume. With
+Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+UNKNOWN TO HISTORY. A Story of the Captivity of Mary of Scotland. With
+Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+THE ARMOURER'S 'PRENTICES. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+SCENES AND CHARACTERS; or, Eighteen Months at Beechcroft. With
+Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+CHANTRY HOUSE. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+A MODERN TELEMACHUS. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+BYWORDS. A collection of Tales new and old.
+
+BEECHCROFT AT ROCKSTONE.
+
+MORE BYWORDS.
+
+A REPUTED CHANGELING; or, Three Seventh Years Two Centuries Ago.
+
+THE LITTLE DUKE, RICHARD THE FEARLESS. With Illustrations.
+
+THE LANCES OF LYNWOOD. With Illustrations by J. B.
+
+THE PRINCE AND THE PAGE: A Story of the Last Crusade. With Illustrations
+by ADRIAN STOKES.
+
+TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+THAT STICK.
+
+AN OLD WOMAN'S OUTLOOK IN A HAMPSHIRE VILLAGE.
+
+GRISLY GRISELL; or, The Laidly Lady of Whitburn. A Tale of the Wars of
+the Roses.
+
+HENRIETTA'S WISH. Second Edition.
+
+THE LONG VACATION.
+
+THE RELEASE; or, Caroline's French Kindred.
+
+THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE BEN BERIAH.
+
+THE TWO GUARDIANS; or, Home in this World. Second Edition.
+
+COUNTESS KATE AND THE STOKESLEY SECRET.
+
+MODERN BROODS; or, Developments Unlooked for.
+
+STROLLING PLAYERS: A Harmony of Contrasts. By C. M. YONGE and C. R.
+COLERIDGE.
+
+STRAY PEARLS. Memoirs of Margaret de Ribaumont, Viscountess of Bellaise.
+With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
+
+
+
+
+Works by Mrs. Craik
+
+
+Olive: A Novel. With Illustrations by G. BOWERS.
+
+Agatha's Husband: A Novel. With Illustrations by WALTER CRANE.
+
+The Head of the Family: A Novel. With Illustrations by WALTER CRANE.
+
+Two Marriages.
+
+The Laurel Bush.
+
+King Arthur: Not a Love Story.
+
+About Money, and other Things.
+
+Concerning Men, and other Papers.
+
+
+
+
+Works by Mrs. Oliphant
+
+
+Neighbours on the Green.
+
+Kirsteen: the Story of a Scotch Family Seventy Years Ago.
+
+A Beleaguered City: A Story of the Seen and the Unseen.
+
+Hester: a Story of Contemporary Life.
+
+He that Will Not when He May.
+
+The Railway Man and his Children.
+
+The Marriage of Elinor.
+
+Sir Tom.
+
+The Heir-Presumptive and the Heir-Apparent.
+
+A Country Gentleman and his Family.
+
+A Son of the Soil.
+
+The Second Son.
+
+The Wizard's Son: A Novel.
+
+Lady William.
+
+Young Musgrave.
+
+
+
+
+The Works of Dean Farrar
+
+
+SEEKERS AFTER GOD. The Lives of Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius.
+
+ETERNAL HOPE. Sermons preached in Westminster Abbey.
+
+THE WITNESS OF HISTORY TO CHRIST.
+
+THE SILENCE AND VOICES OF GOD, with other Sermons.
+
+"IN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH." Sermons on Practical Subjects.
+
+SAINTLY WORKERS. Five Lenten Lectures.
+
+EPHPHATHA; or, the Amelioration of the World.
+
+MERCY AND JUDGMENT: a few last words on Christian Eschatology.
+
+SERMONS & ADDRESSES DELIVERED IN AMERICA.
+
+
+
+
+THE WORKS OF
+Frederick Denison Maurice
+
+
+SERMONS PREACHED IN LINCOLN'S INN CHAPEL. In five vols.
+
+SERMONS PREACHED IN COUNTRY CHURCHES.
+
+CHRISTMAS DAY: and other Sermons.
+
+THEOLOGICAL ESSAYS.
+
+THE PROPHETS AND KINGS OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.
+
+THE PATRIARCHS AND LAWGIVERS OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.
+
+THE GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN.
+
+THE EPISTLES OF ST. JOHN.
+
+THE FRIENDSHIP OF BOOKS: and other Lectures.
+
+THE PRAYER BOOK AND THE LORD'S PRAYER.
+
+THE DOCTRINE OF SACRIFICE. Deduced from the Scriptures.
+
+THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES.
+
+THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST; or, Hints to a Quaker respecting the Principles,
+Constitution, and Ordinances of the Catholic Church. 2 vols.
+
+
+
+
+By J. H. SHORTHOUSE
+
+
+JOHN INGLESANT: A Romance.
+
+SIR PERCIVAL: a Story of the Past and of the Present.
+
+THE LITTLE SCHOOLMASTER MARK.
+
+THE COUNTESS EVE.
+
+A TEACHER OF THE VIOLIN.
+
+BLANCHE, LADY FALAISE.
+
+
+
+
+By GERTRUDE ATHERTON
+
+
+A DAUGHTER OF THE VINE.
+
+THE CALIFORNIANS.
+
+
+
+
+By HUGH CONWAY
+
+
+A FAMILY AFFAIR.
+
+
+
+
+By W. CLARK RUSSELL
+
+
+MAROONED.
+
+
+
+
+By ANNIE KEARY
+
+
+A YORK AND A LANCASTER ROSE.
+
+CASTLE DALY: the Story of an Irish Home thirty years ago.
+
+JANET'S HOME.
+
+A DOUBTING HEART.
+
+THE NATIONS AROUND ISRAEL.
+
+OLDBURY.
+
+
+
+
+By GEORGE BORROW
+
+
+LAVENGRO.
+
+
+
+
+By THOMAS HUGHES
+
+
+TOM BROWN'S SCHOOLDAYS.
+
+TOM BROWN AT OXFORD.
+
+THE SCOURING OF THE WHITE HORSE.
+
+ALFRED THE GREAT.
+
+
+
+
+By ARCHIBALD FORBES
+
+
+BARRACKS, BIVOUACS, AND BATTLES.
+
+
+
+
+By MONTAGU WILLIAMS
+
+
+LEAVES OF A LIFE.
+
+ROUND LONDON.
+
+
+
+
+By E. WERNER
+
+
+FICKLE FORTUNE.
+
+
+
+
+By W. E. NORRIS
+
+
+THIRLBY HALL.
+
+A BACHELOR'S BLUNDER.
+
+
+
+
+The Works of SHAKESPEARE
+
+
+VICTORIA EDITION. In Three Volumes. Vol. I. COMEDIES. Vol. II.
+HISTORIES. Vol. III. TRAGEDIES.
+
+
+
+
+UNIFORM EDITION OF THE
+NOVELS OF CHARLES LEVER
+
+With all the Original Illustrations.
+
+
+1. HARRY LORREQUER. Illustrated by PHIZ.
+
+2. CHARLES O'MALLEY. Illustrated by PHIZ.
+
+3. JACK HINTON THE GUARDSMAN. Illustrated by PHIZ.
+
+4. TOM BURKE OF OURS. Illustrated by PHIZ.
+
+5. ARTHUR O'LEARY. Illustrated by G. CRUIKSHANK.
+
+6. LORD KILGOBBIN. Illustrated by LUKE FILDES.
+
+
+
+
+By W. WARDE FOWLER
+
+
+A YEAR WITH THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
+
+TALES OF THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
+
+MORE TALES OF THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
+
+SUMMER STUDIES OF BIRDS AND BOOKS.
+
+
+
+
+By FRANK BUCKLAND
+
+
+CURIOSITIES OF NATURAL HISTORY. Illustrated. In four volumes:
+
+     FIRST SERIES--Rats, Serpents, Fishes, Frogs, Monkeys, etc.
+
+     SECOND SERIES--Fossils, Bears, Wolves, Cats, Eagles, Hedgehogs,
+     Eels, Herrings, Whales.
+
+     THIRD SERIES--Wild Ducks, Fishing, Lions, Tigers, Foxes, Porpoises.
+
+     FOURTH SERIES--Giants, Mummies, Mermaids, Wonderful People, Salmon,
+     etc.
+
+
+
+
+Works by Various Authors
+
+
+Hogan, M. P.
+
+Flitters, Tatters, and the Counsellor
+
+The New Antigone
+
+Memories of Father Healy
+
+CANON ATKINSON.--The Last of the Giant Killers
+
+---- Playhours and Half-Holidays; or, further Experiences of Two
+Schoolboys
+
+SIR S. BAKER.--True Tales for my Grandsons
+
+R. H. BARHAM.--The Ingoldsby Legends
+
+REV. R. H. D. BARHAM.--Life of Theodore Hook
+
+BLENNERHASSET AND SLEEMAN.--Adventures in Mashonaland
+
+LANOE FALCONER.--Cecilia de Noel
+
+W. FORBES-MITCHELL.--Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny
+
+REV. J. GILMORE.--Storm Warriors
+
+MARY LINSKILL.--Tales of the North Riding
+
+S. R. LYSAGHT.--The Marplot
+
+---- One of the Grenvilles
+
+M. M'LENNAN.--Muckle Jock, and other Stories
+
+G. MASSON.--A Compendious Dictionary of the French Language
+
+MAJOR GAMBIER PARRY.--The Story of Dick
+
+E. C. PRICE.--In the Lion's Mouth
+
+LORD REDESDALE.--Tales of Old Japan
+
+W. C. RHOADES.--John Trevennick
+
+MARCHESA THEODOLI.--Under Pressure
+
+ANTHONY TROLLOPE.--The Three Clerks
+
+CHARLES WHITEHEAD.--Richard Savage
+
+
+
+
+ENGLISH
+MEN OF LETTERS
+
+EDITED BY JOHN MORLEY.
+
+_Arranged in 12 Volumes, each containing the Lives of three Authors._
+
+
+Chaucer. By Dr. A. W. WARD. Spenser. By Dean CHURCH. Dryden. By
+Prof. SAINTSBURY.
+
+Milton. By MARK PATTISON. Goldsmith. By W. BLACK. Cowper. By
+GOLDWIN SMITH.
+
+Byron. By Professor NICHOL. Shelley. By J. A. SYMONDS. Keats. By
+SIDNEY COLVIN.
+
+Charles Lamb. By Canon AINGER. Addison. By W. J. COURTHOPE. Swift.
+By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN, K.C.B.
+
+Scott. By R. H. HUTTON. Burns. By Principal SHAIRP. Coleridge. By
+H. D. TRAILL.
+
+Hume. By Professor HUXLEY, F.R.S. Locke. By THOS. FOWLER. Burke.
+By JOHN MORLEY.
+
+Defoe. By W. MINTO. Sterne. By H. D. TRAILL. Hawthorne. By HENRY
+JAMES.
+
+Fielding. By AUSTIN DOBSON. Thackeray. By ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
+Dickens. By Dr. A. W. WARD.
+
+Gibbon. By J. C. MORISON. Carlyle. By Professor NICHOL. Macaulay.
+By J. C. MORISON.
+
+Sydney. By J. A. SYMONDS. De Quincey. By Prof. MASSON. Sheridan.
+By Mrs. OLIPHANT.
+
+Pope. By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN, K.C.B. Johnson. By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN,
+K.C.B. Gray. By EDMUND GOSSE.
+
+Bacon. By Dean CHURCH. Bunyan. By J. A. FROUDE. Bentley. By Sir
+RICHARD JEBB.
+
+
+
+
+THE GLOBE LIBRARY
+
+Crown 8vo. _3s. 6d._ each.
+
+_The volumes marked with an asterisk (*) are also issued in limp
+leather, with full gilt back and gilt edges. 5s. net each._
+
+
+*Boswell's Life of Johnson. With an Introduction by MOWBRAY MORRIS.
+
+*Burns's Complete Works. Edited from the best Printed and MS.
+Authorities, with Memoir and Glossarial Index. By A. SMITH.
+
+*The Works of Geoffrey Chaucer. Edited by ALFRED W. POLLARD, H. F.
+HEATH, M. H. LIDDELL, and W. S. MCCORMICK.
+
+*Cowper's Poetical Works. Edited, with Biographical Introduction and
+Notes by W. BENHAM, B.D.
+
+Robinson Crusoe. Edited after the original Edition, with a
+Biographical Introduction by HENRY KINGSLEY, F.R.G.S.
+
+*Dryden's Poetical Works. Edited, with a Memoir, Revised Texts, and
+Notes, by W. D. CHRISTIE, M.A.
+
+*The Diary of John Evelyn. With an Introduction and Notes by AUSTIN
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+Froissart's Chronicles. Translated by Lord BERNERS. Edited by G. C.
+MACAULAY, M.A.
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+*Goldsmith's Miscellaneous Works. With Biographical Introduction by
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+*Milton's Poetical Works. Edited, with Introduction, by Professor
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+*Pope's Poetical Works. Edited, with Notes and Introductory Memoir, by
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+*Sir Walter Scott's Poetical Works. Edited, with Biographical and
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+*Shakespeare's Complete Works. Edited by W. G. CLARK, M.A., and W.
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+*Spenser's Complete Works. Edited, with Glossary, by R. MORRIS, and a
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+*Tennyson's Poetical Works. [Also in extra cloth, gilt edges. _4s.
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