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diff --git a/28925.txt b/28925.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d0603f --- /dev/null +++ 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_. + + + + * * * * * + + + +MACMILLAN'S THREE-AND-SIXPENNY LIBRARY OF BOOKS BY POPULAR AUTHORS + +Crown 8vo. + + +_This series comprises over four hundred volumes in various departments +of Literature. Prominent among them is an attractive edition of_ The +Works of Thackeray, _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._ The Works of Charles Dickens, +_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_ The Novels of Charles +Lever, _illustrated by Phiz and G. Cruikshank, have also a place in the +Library. The attention of book buyers may be especially directed to_ The +Border Edition of the Waverley Novels, _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._ The +Works of Mr. Thomas Hardy, _including the poems, have also been added to +the Three-and-Sixpenny Library._ + +_Among other works by notable contemporary authors will be found those +of_ Mr. F. Marion Crawford, Rolf Boldrewood, Mr. H. G. Wells, Mrs. +Gertrude Atherton, Mr. Egerton Castle, Mr. A. E. W. Mason, _and_ Miss +Rosa Nouchette Carey; _while among the productions of an earlier period +may be mentioned the works of_ Charles Kingsley, Frederick Denison +Maurice, Thomas Hughes, _and_ Dean Farrar; _and the novels and tales of_ +Charlotte M. Yonge, Mrs. Craik, _and_ Mrs. Oliphant. + + + + +THE +WORKS OF THACKERAY + +_Reprints of the First Editions, with all the Original Illustrations, +and with Facsimiles of Wrappers, etc._ + + +Messrs. MACMILLAN & CO., Limited, beg leave to invite the attention of +book buyers to the Edition of THE WORKS OF THACKERAY in their +Three-and-Sixpenny Library, which is the Completest Edition of the +Author's Works that has been placed on the market. + +The Publishers have been fortunate in securing the services of Mr. LEWIS +MELVILLE, 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. + + +List of the Series. + +VOL. + +1. Vanity Fair. With 190 Illustrations. + +2. The History of Pendennis. With 180 Illustrations. + +3. The Newcomes. With 167 Illustrations. + +4. The History of Henry Esmond. + +5. The Virginians. With 148 Illustrations. + +6. Barry Lyndon and Catherine. With 4 Illustrations. + +7. The Paris and Irish Sketch Books, With 63 Illustrations. + +8. Christmas Books--MRS. PERKINS'S BALL: OUR STREET: DR. BIRCH AND HIS +YOUNG FRIENDS: THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE: THE ROSE AND THE RING. With +127 Illustrations. + +9. Burlesques: From Cornhill to Grand Cairo: and Juvenilia. With 84 +Illustrations. + +10. The Book of Snobs, and other Contributions to _Punch_. With 159 +Illustrations. + +11. The Yellowplush Correspondence: Jeames's Diary: The Great Hoggarty +Diamond: Etc. With 47 Illustrations. + +12. Critical Papers in Literature. + +13. Critical Papers in Art; Stubbs's Calendar: Barber Cox. With 99 +Illustrations. + +14. Lovel the Widower, and other Stories. With 40 Illustrations. + +15. The Fitz-Boodle Papers (including Men's Wives), and various +Articles. 8 Illustrations. + +16. The English Humourists of the 18th Century: The Four Georges: Etc. +45 Illustrations. + +17. Travels in London: Letters to a Young Man about Town: and other +Contributions to _Punch_ (1845-1850). With 73 Illustrations. + +18. Ballads and Verses, and Miscellaneous Contributions to _Punch_. With +78 Illustrations. + +19. A Shabby Genteel Story, and The Adventures of Philip. With +Illustrations. + +20. Roundabout Papers and Denis Duval. With Illustrations. + + +MACMILLAN'S +EDITION OF THACKERAY + +SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +_EXPOSITORY TIMES._--"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." + +_WHITEHALL REVIEW._--"Never before has such a cheap and excellent +edition of Thackeray been seen." + +_ACADEMY._--"A better one-volume edition at three shillings and sixpence +could not be desired." + +_GRAPHIC._--"In its plain but pretty blue binding is both serviceable +and attractive." + +_DAILY GRAPHIC._--"An excellent, cheap reprint." + +_PALL MALL GAZETTE._--"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." + +_GLOBE._--"The paper is thin but good, the type used is clear to read, +and the binding is neat and effective." + +_LADY'S PICTORIAL._--"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." + +_WORLD._--"Nothing could be better than the new edition." + +_BLACK AND WHITE._--"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." + +_SCOTSMAN._--"This admirable edition." + +_LITERARY WORLD._--"The paper and printing and general get up are +everything that one could desire." + +_ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE._--"A clear and pretty edition." + + + + +THE +WORKS OF DICKENS + +Reprints of the First Editions, with all the original Illustrations, and +with Introductions, Biographical and Bibliographical, by CHARLES DICKENS +the Younger. + + +1. THE PICKWICK PAPERS. With 50 Illustrations. + +2. OLIVER TWIST. With 27 Illustrations. + +3. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. With 44 Illustrations. + +4. MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. With 41 Illustrations. + +5. THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. With 97 Illustrations. + +6. BARNABY RUDGE. With 76 Illustrations. + +7. DOMBEY AND SON. With 40 Illustrations. + +8. CHRISTMAS BOOKS. With 65 Illustrations. + +9. SKETCHES BY BOZ. With 44 Illustrations. + +10. DAVID COPPERFIELD. With 40 Illustrations. + +11. AMERICAN NOTES AND PICTURES FROM ITALY. With 4 Illustrations. + +12. THE LETTERS OF CHARLES DICKENS. + +13. BLEAK HOUSE. With 43 Illustrations. + +14. LITTLE DORRIT. With 40 Illustrations. + +15. A TALE OF TWO CITIES. With 15 Illustrations. + +16. GREAT EXPECTATIONS; AND HARD TIMES. + +17. OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. With 40 Illustrations. + + +MACMILLAN'S +EDITION OF DICKENS + +SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +_ATHENAEUM._--"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." + +_SPEAKER._--"We do not think there exists a better edition." + +_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 L4 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." + +_ATHENAEUM._--"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 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 +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. + +ADVENTURES OF HAJJI BABA OF ISPAHAN. By JAMES MORIER. Illustrated by +H. R. Millar. With Introduction by Lord Curzon. + + + + +THE NEW CRANFORD SERIES + +_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 AEsop. Selected by JOSEPH JACOBS. Illustrated by R. +Heighway. + +Old Christmas. By WASHINGTON IRVING. With Illustrations by R. +Caldecott. + +Bracebridge Hall. With Illustrations by R. CALDECOTT. + +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. + + +MACMILLAN & CO., LTD., LONDON. + +J. 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