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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41826 ***
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 41826-h.htm or 41826-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/41826/41826-h/41826-h.htm)
+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/41826/41826-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+WILD HEATHER
+
+by
+
+L. T. MEADE
+
+With a Frontispiece in Colour
+and Three Black-and-White Plates
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Cassell and Company, Ltd.
+London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne
+1911
+
+All Rights Reserved
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF PLATES
+
+
+    HEATHER                                             _Frontispiece_
+
+    "'OH, BUT HE MUST STAY,' I ANSWERED"                           116
+
+    "'ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU, CAPTAIN CARBURY,'
+    SAID LADY HELEN, 'THAT MY STEPDAUGHTER IS
+    NOT FOR YOU'"                                                  184
+
+    "WE SAT ON THE HEATHER, AND HE TOLD ME THE
+    STORY OVER AGAIN"                                              310
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: HEATHER]
+
+
+
+
+WILD HEATHER
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+There are all kinds of first things one can look back upon; I mean by
+that the first things of all. There is the little toddling journey
+across the floor, with father's arms stretched out to help one, and
+mother's smile to greet one when the adventurous journey is over. And
+there are other baby things, of course. Then there come the big things
+which one can never forget.
+
+My big thing arrived when I was eight years old. I came home with father
+from India. Father's name was Major Grayson, and I was called Heather. I
+was petted a great deal on board ship, and made a fuss about, and, in
+consequence, I made a considerable fuss about myself and gave myself
+airs. Father used to laugh when I did this and catch me in his arms and
+press me close to his heart, and say:
+
+"My dearest little Heather, I can quite perceive that you will be a
+most fascinating woman when you grow up."
+
+I remember even now his words, and the look on his face when he said
+these things, but as I did not in the least comprehend them at the time,
+I merely asked in my very pertest voice for the nicest sweetmeats he
+could procure for me, on which he laughed more than ever, and, turning
+to his brother officers, said:
+
+"Didn't I say so? Heather will take the cake some time."
+
+I suppose at that period of my life there was no one in the wide world
+whom I loved as I did father. There was my nurse, but I was not
+specially devoted to her, for she was fond of teasing me and sticking
+pins into my dress without being careful with regard to the points. When
+I wriggled and rushed away from her she used to say that I was a very
+naughty and troublesome child. She never praised me nor used mysterious
+words about me as father did, so, of course, I clung close to him.
+
+I very, very dimly remembered my mother. As I have just said, my first
+memory of all was running across the nursery floor and being caught by
+my father, and my mother smiling at me. I really cannot recall her after
+that, except that I have a very dim memory of being, on one occasion,
+asked to stoop down and kiss her. My father was holding me in his arms
+at the time, and I stooped and stooped and pressed my lips to hers and
+said: "Oh, how cold!" and shuddered and turned away. I did not know then
+that she was dead. This fact was not told me until long afterwards.
+
+We had a most prosperous voyage home on board the _Pleiades_, with never
+a storm nor any unpleasant sea complication, and father was in high
+spirits, always chatting and laughing and playing billiards and making
+himself agreeable all round, and I was very much petted, although one
+lady assured me that it was on account of father, who was such a very
+popular man, and not because I was little Heather Grayson myself.
+
+By and by the voyage came to an end, and we were safe back in old
+England. We landed at Southampton, and father took Anastasia and me to a
+big hotel for the night. Anastasia, my nurse, and I had a huge room all
+to ourselves. It did look big after the tiny state cabin to which I had
+grown accustomed.
+
+Anastasia was at once cross and sorrowful, and I wondered very much why
+she was not glad to be back in old England. But when I asked her if she
+were glad, her only answer was to catch me to her heart and kiss me over
+and over again, and say that she never, oh never! meant to be unkind to
+me, but that her whole one desire was to be my dearest, darling "Nana,"
+and that she hoped and prayed I would ever remember her as such. I
+thought her petting almost as tiresome as her crossness, so I said, in
+my usual pert way:
+
+"If you are really fond of me, you won't stick any more pins in me,"
+when, to my amazement, she burst into a flood of tears.
+
+Now I had a childish horror of tears, and ran out of the room. What
+might have happened I do not know; whether I should have lost myself in
+the great hotel, or whether Anastasia would have rushed after me and
+picked me up and scolded me, and been more like her old self, and
+forbidden me on pain of her direst displeasure to ever leave her side
+without permission, I cannot tell. But the simple fact was that I saw
+father in the corridor of the hotel, and father looked into my face and
+said:
+
+"Why, Heather, what's the matter?"
+
+"It's Anastasia who is so queer," I said; "she is sorry about something,
+and I said, 'If you are sorry you will never stick pins in me
+again'--and then she burst out crying. I hate cry-babies, don't you,
+Daddy?"
+
+"Yes; of course I do," replied my father. "Come along downstairs with
+me, Heather."
+
+He lifted me up in his arms. I have said that I was eight years old, but
+I was a very tiny girl, made on a small and neat scale. I had little,
+dark brown curls, which Anastasia used to damp every morning and convert
+into hideous rows of ringlets, as she called them. I was very proud of
+my "ringerlets," as I pronounced the word at that time, and I had brown
+eyes to match my hair, and a neat sort of little face. I was not the
+least like father, who had a big, rather red face and grey hair, which I
+loved to pull, and kind, very bright, blue eyes and a big mouth,
+somewhat tremulous. I used to wonder even then why it trembled.
+
+He rushed downstairs with me in his usual boisterous fashion, while I
+laughed and shouted and told him to go faster and faster, and then he
+entered a private sitting-room and rang the bell, and told the man who
+appeared at his summons that dinner was to be served for two, and that
+Miss Heather Grayson would dine with her father. Oh, didn't I feel
+proud--this was an honour indeed!
+
+"I need not go back to the cry-baby, then, need I?" I said.
+
+"No," replied my father; "you need not, Heather. You are to stay with
+me."
+
+"Well, let's laugh and be very jolly," I said. "Let me be a robber,
+pretending to pick your pockets, and you must lie back and shut your
+eyes and pretend to be sound, sound asleep. You must not even start when
+I pull your diamond ring off your finger. But, I say--oh, Daddy!--where
+_is_ your diamond ring?"
+
+"Upstairs, or downstairs, or in my lady's chamber," replied Daddy.
+"Don't you bother about it, Heather. No, I don't want to play at being
+burgled to-night. Sit close to me; lay your little head on my breast."
+
+I did so. I could feel his great heart beating. It beat in big throbs,
+now up, now down, now up, now down again.
+
+Dinner was brought in, and I forgot all about the ring in the delight of
+watching the preparations, and of seeing the grand, tall waiter laying
+the table for two. He placed a chair at one end of the table for father,
+and at the other end for me. This I did not like, and I said so. Then
+father requested that the seats should be changed and that I should sit,
+so to speak, in his pocket. I forget, in all the years that have rolled
+by, what we had for dinner, but I know that some of it I liked and some
+I could not bear, and I also remember that it was the dishes I could not
+bear that father loved. He ate a good deal, and then he took me in his
+arms and settled me on his knee, sitting so that I should face him, and
+then he spoke.
+
+"Heather, how old are you?"
+
+I was accustomed to this sort of catechism, and answered at once, very
+gravely:
+
+"Eight, Daddy."
+
+"Oh, you are more than eight," he replied, "you are eight and a half,
+aren't you?"
+
+"Eight years, five months, one week, and five days," I said.
+
+"Come, that is better," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Always be
+accurate when you speak. Always remember, please, Heather, that it was
+want of accuracy ruined me."
+
+"What is ruined?" I asked. "What in the world do you mean?"
+
+"What I say. Now don't repeat my words. You will be able to think of
+them by and by."
+
+I was silent, pondering. Daddy was charming; there never was his like,
+but he did say puzzling things.
+
+"Now," he said, looking full at me, "what do you think I have come to
+England for?"
+
+I shook my head. When I did not know a thing I invariably shook my head.
+
+"I have come on your account," he replied.
+
+"On mine, Daddy?"
+
+"Yes. I am going back again to India in a short time."
+
+"Oh, what fun!" I answered. "I love being on board ship."
+
+He did not reply at all to this.
+
+"Why don't you speak?" I said, giving his grizzled locks a lusty tug.
+
+"I am thinking," was his answer.
+
+"Well, think aloud," I said.
+
+"I am thinking about you, Heather. Have you ever by any chance heard of
+a lady called Aunt Penelope?"
+
+"Never," I answered. "Aunt Penelope--Aunt Penelope--what is an aunt,
+Daddy?"
+
+"Well, there is an Aunt Penelope waiting to see you in old England, and
+I am going to take you down to her to-morrow. She is your
+aunt--listen--think hard, Heather--use your brains--because she is your
+mother's sister."
+
+"Oh!" I answered. "Does that make an aunt?"
+
+"Yes, that makes an aunt; or if she were your father's sister she would
+also be your aunt."
+
+I tried to digest this piece of information as best I could.
+
+"I am taking you to her to-morrow, and you must learn to love her as
+though she were your mother."
+
+I shook my head.
+
+"I can't," I said.
+
+"Well, don't think about it," was Daddy's reply. "Love her, without
+knowing that you love her. I believe she is a very good woman."
+
+"I 'spect so," I said. "I don't much care for good womens."
+
+As a rule I spoke quite correctly, but when excited I did make some
+lapses.
+
+"Well, that's all," said father, suddenly putting me down on the floor.
+"Run up to bed now and to sleep. You will see Aunt Penelope to-morrow;
+you will like her very much. I have brought you all the way to England
+in order that you might see her."
+
+I was a bit sleepy, and it was very late for me to be up. So I kissed
+Daddy two or three times and ran upstairs all alone. Anastasia was
+waiting for me at the head of the stairs.
+
+"Anastasia," I shouted, "we are going to have a real jolly time. We are
+going to Aunt Penelope to-morrow. She is aunt because she is mother's
+sister; she would be aunt, too, if she was father's sister. I wonder how
+many people she is aunt to? Is she your aunt, Anastasia?"
+
+"No, my dear child," said Anastasia, in quite a gentle tone.
+
+"And isn't it fun, Anastasia?" I continued. "Daddy has brought me all
+the way to England just to see Aunt Penelope, and we are going back to
+India almost immediately--Daddy said so."
+
+"Said what, Miss Heather?"
+
+"That we were going back to India almost--almost at once. Isn't it just
+lovely? You will come too, of course, only you might remember about the
+pins."
+
+Anastasia, who had placed me on a little chair, now went abruptly to the
+fire and stirred it into a brilliant blaze. I stared at it as a child
+will who has seldom seen fires. Anastasia stood with her back to me for
+a long time, even after she had done poking the fire, and when she
+turned round I thought her eyes looked funny.
+
+"Are you going to cry again?" I said. "I don't like cry-babies."
+
+"Of course not, Miss Heather. Now let me undress you."
+
+A minute later I was in bed, the firelight playing on the walls. The bed
+was big and warm and soft. I felt tired and very happy. I dropped into
+profound slumber. When I awoke it was broad daylight, and Anastasia was
+shaking me.
+
+"Get up, miss," she said. "If you want to be off in time you must be
+stirring."
+
+"Oh, hurrah!" I answered. "This is Aunt Penelope's day. Are we all
+going, Anastasia? And when we go, shall I ask her at once if she is your
+aunt, too?"
+
+"Now, for goodness' sake, stay still, Miss Heather, while I tie your
+things. You are such an awful fidget."
+
+I was dressed in an incredibly short space of time, and I had eaten a
+good breakfast, and Anastasia had taken me by the hand and brought me
+downstairs. Daddy was waiting for me in the hall, and he looked very big
+and broad and important. He went up to Anastasia and said a few words to
+her, and I think he slipped something into her hand, but I am not sure.
+She turned abruptly and walked away, and I said:
+
+"Where is she going, father?"
+
+"Never mind."
+
+Then we got into a cab, and I said:
+
+"But where's Anastasia?"
+
+"Oh, if she's quick we may meet her at the railway station," said
+father; "and if she is slow she must come on by the next train."
+
+"Oh, dear, what a nuisance!" I answered. "I did want her to come with
+us."
+
+"It all depends upon whether she is quick or slow," said father.
+
+"Well, at any rate," I answered, with a child's easy acceptance of a
+situation which she cannot understand, "it is lovely to go to Aunt
+Penelope."
+
+We reached the railway station. Anastasia was slow--she was nowhere to
+be seen. Father said, in his cheerful voice:
+
+"All right, little woman, she'll catch the next train." And then we
+found ourselves facing each other in two padded compartments of a
+first-class carriage, and the train moved out of the station, and we
+were off. There happened to be no one else in the carriage, but Daddy
+was very silent, and almost pale, for him. Once he said, bending
+towards me and speaking abruptly:
+
+"Promise me one thing?"
+
+"Yes, Daddy," I answered.
+
+"You will never think badly of me whatever you hear?"
+
+Now this was such a queer speech that I could not in the least
+understand it, but I answered at once, in the queer sort of metaphor
+that a child might use:
+
+"I would not think badly of you, father, if the world rocked."
+
+He kissed me two or three times after I said this, and so far recovered
+his usual self that he allowed me to sit on his knee and play with his
+watch chain. I was greatly taken with a little charm he wore, and when I
+said I liked it he told me that it had once belonged to a great idol in
+one of the most marvellous temples in the historic town of Delhi. He
+said it was supposed to be a charm and to bring luck, and then he
+detached it from his chain and slipped it on to a narrow gold chain
+which I wore round my neck. He told me to keep it always, for it was
+certain to bring luck. I said:
+
+"What's luck?"
+
+He answered: "Fair gales and a prosperous sail."
+
+I nodded my head satisfactorily at that, and said:
+
+"Then I will wear it, and you and me, Daddy"--I went wrong again with my
+grammar--"will have fair gales and a prosperous sail when we are
+returning to India."
+
+He thrust his head out of the carriage window when I said this, and when
+he put it back again I noticed that for some reason his face was as red
+as ever.
+
+Aunt Penelope's name was Penelope Despard, and she lived in a pretty
+little place outside a pretty little town about fifty miles away from
+Southampton. We got out at the station, which was called Cherton, and
+there a cab awaited us, which had evidently been sent by order, and some
+luggage was put on the roof. I was too excited by then to make any
+comment with regard to the luggage, although I noticed it afterwards and
+observed that it was all marked "H. G.," and there was nothing marked
+"G. G.," for father's name was Gordon Grayson. I said to father, as we
+got into the cab:
+
+"I do wonder when Anastasia's train will arrive." And he said:
+
+"So do I. I must make inquiries presently." But although I expected him
+to make these inquiries at once he did not do so, and the cab started
+off in the direction of Miss Despard's cottage.
+
+Miss Penelope Despard lived in a little house with a little garden
+attached. The little house went by the name of Hill View, and the garden
+and tiny lawn were very pretty and very neatly kept. But I was
+accustomed to big things--that is, except on board ship, when, of
+course, I had the sea to look at, which seemed to go on for ever and
+ever. So I was not excited about Aunt Penelope's garden. Father's face
+continued to be very red. He held my hand and took me up the neatly-kept
+gravel walk, and pushed a very brightly-polished brass button, which was
+instantly answered by a neat-looking boy, with a perfectly round face,
+in buttons.
+
+"Is Miss Despard in?" asked father. And then a lady in spectacles came
+out of a room at one side of a narrow hall, and father said:
+
+"Hallo, Penelope! It is years since we met, and, Penelope, this is
+Heather. Heather, my darling, here is your Aunt Penelope."
+
+"I hope you are a good child and do what you are told always," said Aunt
+Penelope.
+
+She spoke in a very prim voice, and stooping down, kissed me, hurting my
+face as she did so with the rim of her spectacles. I disliked her on the
+spot and told her so with the frank eyes of a child, although I was not
+quite rude enough to utter any words by my lips.
+
+"Well, Gordon," said my aunt, "you were a little late, and I was
+beginning to fear that you had missed your train. We shall just have
+time to arrange everything before you return to Southampton."
+
+"I am going to London to-night," said father.
+
+"Well, well, it really doesn't matter to me. Child, don't stare."
+
+I looked away at once. There was a parrot in a cage, and the parrot
+said, in his shrill voice at that moment: "Stop knocking at the door."
+
+I burst into a peal of laughter and ran towards him. I was about to
+approach his cage with my finger, when Aunt Penelope said:
+
+"He bites."
+
+I did not want him to bite my finger, for his beak was so sharp. So I
+said:
+
+"Please, Aunt Penelope, are you aunt also to Anastasia?"
+
+"I have never heard of her," said Aunt Penelope. "Little girls should be
+seen and not heard."
+
+At that moment the parrot again shouted out, "Stop knocking at the
+door," and I was so amused by him that I did not mind Aunt Penelope.
+After all, nothing much mattered, for I would be going to London
+immediately with Daddy.
+
+I stood and stared at the parrot, hoping much that he would speak again.
+The parrot cocked his head to one side and looked at me, but he did not
+utter a word.
+
+"Speak, oh! do speak," I said in a whisper; the parrot turned his back
+on me.
+
+Aunt Penelope said, "Sit down, Heather."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+A few minutes later we went into another room to lunch. It was a very
+small room, smaller than many of the state cabins on board the good ship
+_Pleiades_. There was a little table in the centre of the room, and
+there were places for three laid at the table. Opposite to me was a milk
+pudding, and opposite to Aunt Penelope was a tureen of soup, and
+opposite to Daddy I really forget what. The boy in buttons came up and
+helped me to a portion of pudding.
+
+"I don't like it," I said at once. "Take it away, please, boy."
+
+Aunt Penelope said: "Leave the pudding where it is, Jonas. Heather, my
+dear, you must invariably eat what is put before you. I consider milk
+pudding proper food for little girls, and had this made on purpose for
+you."
+
+"But I hate milk puddings, Aunt Penelope," I answered, "and I never,
+never eat them."
+
+"The child is accustomed to feed as I do," said my father, speaking in a
+harsh, grating sort of voice, and avoiding my eyes.
+
+"Well, in future," said Aunt Penelope, "she will eat as I want her to
+eat. I must bring her up in my way or not at all, Gordon."
+
+"Eat your pudding like a darling," said my father, and as Aunt Penelope
+had really made a most silly speech, for father and I were leaving for
+London almost immediately, I ate the horrid pudding just to please him.
+
+When lunch was finished, Aunt Penelope went up to father and spoke to
+him. He nodded, and I noticed that his face was very pale. Then he said:
+
+"Perhaps so; perhaps it is the best thing." Then, all of a sudden, he
+stooped and took me in his arms and pressed me very, very close to his
+heart, and let me down on the floor rather suddenly. The next minute he
+had taken half-a-crown out of his pocket.
+
+"Your Aunt Penelope and I want to have a little private talk," he said,
+"and I was thinking that you might--or rather your aunt was thinking
+that you might--go out for a walk with Buttons."
+
+"His name is Jonas," said Aunt Penelope.
+
+"I beg his pardon--with Jonas--and he will take you to a toy shop. You
+have never seen any English toys, and you might buy a new doll with
+this."
+
+"I'd like to buy some sort of toy," I answered, "but I don't want
+dolls--I hate them. Can I buy a parrot, do you think, and would he talk
+to me? I'd rather like that, and it would be great, great fun to have
+him when we are sailing back with gentle gales and a prosperous sail to
+darling India."
+
+"Well, go and buy something, darling," said father, and I nodded to him
+brightly and went out of the room.
+
+Buttons, as I continued to call him in my own heart, for I could not get
+round his other name of Jonas, was really quite agreeable. He took me
+away to a high part of the town and very far from the shops, and on to a
+wild stretch of moor; here he told me all kinds of extraordinary stories
+about rats and cats and mice and caterpillars. He confided the fact to
+me that he kept white mice in his attic bedroom, but that if Miss
+Despard found it out he would be sent about his business on the spot. He
+implored me to be extremely secret with regard to the matter, and I
+naturally promised that I would.
+
+"You need not fear, Buttons," I said. "Ladies, who are true ladies,
+never repeat things when they are asked not."
+
+"And you are a real, true lady, missy," was his answer.
+
+He further promised to enlighten me with regard to the method of
+producing silk from silk-worms, and told me what fun it was to wind the
+silk off the big yellow cocoons.
+
+"I think," I said, "I should like that very much, for if I got a big lot
+I should have enough silk to make a yellow silk dress for Anastasia."
+
+"Whoever's she?" asked Buttons.
+
+"I believe, Buttons," I said, dropping my voice, "that Aunt Penelope is
+really aunt to her, too, and she is coming on by the next train. She is
+very nice when she is not a cry-baby, and when she doesn't stick pins
+into you. She has a somewhat yellow complexion, so, of course, the
+yellow silk dress would suit her."
+
+"Yes, miss, I am sure of that," said Buttons.
+
+He took me so far that I began to get tired, and the sun was going down
+behind the hills when we returned to the town. We had very nearly
+reached the little house of Hill View when I remembered Daddy's
+half-crown, and that I had never bought a toy.
+
+"It's too late to-day, miss," said Buttons, "but you can come out
+walking with me to-morrow and we can get it then."
+
+I laughed.
+
+"I can get it in London, I expect," I said. "London's a great big
+place. Oh, I do hope," I continued, "that I haven't been keeping darling
+Daddy waiting!"
+
+When Buttons opened the little gate of Hill View I ran up the
+neatly-kept avenue and pounded with my hands on the glass panels of the
+door. It was Aunt Penelope herself who opened it.
+
+"Where's Daddy?" I said. "Am I late? Oh, I hope I am not! And has
+Anastasia come?"
+
+Aunt Penelope looked quite gentle. She took my hand and led me into the
+drawing-room. The drawing-room was bigger than the dining-room, but was
+still a very tiny room.
+
+"Now, Heather," she said, "I have something to say to you."
+
+"Where's Daddy? I want Daddy," I said. "Where is he?"
+
+I began to tremble for fear of I did not know what. The terror of
+something hitherto unknown came over me.
+
+"He sent you his best love and his good-bye, and he will come and see
+you again before he sails."
+
+Aunt Penelope tried to speak kindly, although she had not by nature a
+kind voice. I stared at her with all my might and main.
+
+"He went away without me?" I said.
+
+"He had to, dear. Now, Heather, I can quite understand that this is a
+trial for you, but you've got to bear it. Your father will come and see
+you again before he returns to India, and meanwhile you are my little
+girl and will live with me."
+
+I stood perfectly still, as though I were turned into stone. Aunt
+Penelope put out her hand to touch me, and just at that moment the
+parrot cried, "Stop knocking at the door!" Aunt Penelope tried to draw
+me towards her, she tried to lift me on to her knee.
+
+"Come," she said, "come--be a good little girl. I shall try to be good
+to you."
+
+I raised my hand and slapped her with extreme violence on the face.
+
+"I hate you and all aunts, and I will never, never be good to you or to
+anyone!"
+
+And then, somehow or other, I think I lost consciousness, for I cannot
+remember, even after this lapse of years, what immediately followed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+The next thing that I recall was also connected with that most terrible
+day. I was lying on a tiny bed, a sort of cot bed, in a very small room.
+There was a fire about the size of a pocket-handkerchief burning in the
+wee-est grate I have ever looked at. A woman was sitting by the fire
+with her back to me, the woman was knitting and moving her hands very
+rapidly. She wore a little cap on her head with long black lappets to
+it. I noticed how ugly the cap was and how ugly the woman herself looked
+as she sat and knitted by the fire. I suppose some little movement on my
+part caused her to turn round, for she came towards me and then I
+observed that it was Aunt Penelope.
+
+"That's a good girl," she said; "you are better now, Heather."
+
+A sort of instinct came over me at that moment. Instead of bursting into
+a storm of rage and tears, I stayed perfectly quiet. I looked her calmly
+in the face. I remembered every single thing that had happened. Father
+had gone, and I was left behind. I said, in a gentle tone:
+
+"I am much better, Aunt Penelope."
+
+"Come," said Aunt Penelope, speaking cheerfully, "you shall have some
+nice bread and milk presently, and then I will undress you myself and
+put you to bed. Lie quite quiet now like a good child, while I go down
+to prepare the bread and milk."
+
+I made no answer, but lay still, my eyes fixed on her face. She turned
+and left the room.
+
+The moment she had shut the door I sat up in bed. I had been acting a
+part. I was only eight years old, that is, eight years and a half, or
+very nearly so. Nevertheless, I was a consummate actress all the time
+Aunt Penelope was in the room. The instant she had gone I scrambled to
+my feet and slid off the little bed and stood upright on the floor. I
+saw the hat I had worn when I came from Southampton, lying on a chair,
+and also the little jacket. I further noticed with satisfaction that my
+boots were still on my feet. In a flash I had managed to button on my
+jacket and to slip the elastic of my hat under my thick hair, and then,
+with the half-crown which father had given me safely deposited in my
+pocket, I softly, very softly, opened my bedroom door. Oh, yes; I was
+acting splendidly! I was quite excited with the wonder of the thing, and
+this excitement kept me up for the time being. I heard Aunt Penelope's
+voice downstairs. She was saying something; her words reached me quite
+distinctly.
+
+"Go at once to the chemist's, Jonas, and tell him to make up the
+prescription the doctor has given, and bring it back again as fast as
+ever you can. Wait for it until it is made up. The child is highly
+feverish, and must have the medicine at once."
+
+Jonas said, "Yes, Miss Despard," and I heard the front door of the
+little house open and shut again. I also heard Aunt Penelope going away
+to the back part of the premises, and I further heard the shrill voice
+of the parrot, making use of his constant cry, "Stop knocking at the
+door!" Now was my opportunity.
+
+I glided downstairs like a little ghost. I ran swiftly across the hall,
+I opened the front door--it was quite easy to open, for the door was a
+very small one--and then I let myself out. The next minute I was running
+down the street, running as fast as ever I could, and as far as possible
+from Hill View House. I had a distinct object in my mind. I did not mean
+to run away in the ordinary sense; my one sole desire was to go to the
+railway station to meet the train which would bring Anastasia. Father
+had said with his own lips that she would come by the next train. Of
+course, I had no idea where the railway station was. I felt that I must
+run as quickly as possible, for Jonas might see me, and although he was
+quite a kind boy, I did not want him to see me then. I hoped the
+chemist--whoever the chemist was--would keep him some time, and that the
+feverish person--whoever the feverish person was--would be kept waiting
+for whatever Jonas was fetching for that person. I did not meet Jonas,
+and I ran a long way. Presently I came bang up against a stout,
+red-faced woman, who said:
+
+"Look out where you are going, little 'un."
+
+I paused and looked into her face.
+
+"Have I hurt you?" I asked.
+
+The woman burst out laughing.
+
+"My word!" she answered. "As if a mite like you would hurt _me_. Is it
+likely? And who are you, and where are you going?"
+
+"I am going to the railway station to meet Anastasia," I said. Then I
+added, as a quick thought flashed through my mind, "Anastasia is my
+nurse, and she's coming by the next train. I will give you some money
+if you will take me to the railway station to meet her."
+
+"How much money will you give me?" asked the red-faced woman.
+
+"I will give you a whole half-crown," I said. "Please, please take
+me--it is so dreadfully important, for the next train may come in, and
+Anastasia may not know where to go to."
+
+"Well, to be sure," said the woman, looking me all over from top to toe;
+"I don't seem to know you, little miss, but there's no harm in me taking
+you as far as the station, and the next train will be due in a very few
+minutes, so we'll have to go as fast as possible."
+
+"I don't mind running, if you don't mind running too," I answered.
+
+"I can't run," said the woman; "I'm too big."
+
+"Well," I said, "perhaps the best thing of all would be for you to show
+me how to get to the railway station. If you do that, I can run very
+fast indeed, and you shall have your half-crown."
+
+"That would be much the best way," said the woman; "and look, missy, you
+haven't very far to go. Here we are at the foot of this steep hill.
+Well, you run up it as fast as ever you can, and when you get to the
+top you will see the railway station right in front of you, and all you
+have to do is to ask if the train is in. There's only one train in and
+one train out at a little railway station like ours, so you can't miss
+your way. You will have to ask a porter, or any man you see, to show you
+the platform where the trains come in, and there you are. Now, my
+half-crown, please, missy."
+
+"Yes. Here it is," I answered, "and I am very much obliged to you,
+woman."
+
+I thrust the money into her hand and began to run as fast as ever I
+could up the hill. I was a very slight child, and ran well. With the
+fear and longing, the indescribable dread of I knew not what in my
+heart, there seemed to be wings attached to my feet now, for I went up
+the hill so fast--oh, so fast!--until at last I arrived, breathless, at
+the top. A man was standing leisurely outside an open door. He said,
+"Hallo!" when he saw me, and I answered back, "Hallo!" and then he said:
+
+"What can I do for you, little miss?" and I said:
+
+"I have come to meet the next train, and, please, when will it be in,
+for Anastasia is coming by it?"
+
+"Whoever is Anastasia?" asked the man.
+
+"My nurse," I answered; "and she's coming by the next train."
+
+The man whistled.
+
+"Please show me the right platform, man," I said. "I have no money to
+give you at all, so I hope you will be very, very kind, for I gave all
+the money I possessed in the world to a stout, red woman at the bottom
+of the hill. She showed me how to get here, but she could not run fast
+enough, for she was so very stout, so I left her and came on alone.
+Please show me the platform and Anastasia shall give you some money when
+she comes."
+
+"I don't want any money, missy," said the man in a kind tone. "You come
+along of me. There's the London express specially ordered to stop here,
+because Sir John Carrington and his lady are expected. The expresses
+don't stop here as a rule, missy--only the slow trains; but maybe the
+person you want will be in this express."
+
+"She's sure to be if it's the next train," I said. "Is it the next
+train?"
+
+"Well, yes, miss, I suppose it is. Ah! she is signalled."
+
+"Who is signalled?" I asked. "Is it Anastasia?"
+
+"No, missy; the train. You grip hold of my hand, and I'll see you safe.
+What a mite of a thing you be."
+
+I held the man's hand very firmly. I liked him immensely--I put him at
+once third in my heart. Father was first, Anastasia second, and the
+railway porter third.
+
+The great train came thundering in, and a kind-looking gentleman,
+accompanied by a beautifully-dressed lady and a number of servants,
+alighted on the platform. But peer and peer as I would, I could not get
+a sight of Anastasia.
+
+"Now, missy, you look out," said the porter. "Wherever do she be?"
+
+"Hallo--hallo! Where have you dropped from?" said a voice at that moment
+in my ears, and, looking up, I saw that Sir John Carrington was a man
+who had come all the way from India on board the _Pleiades_, and that,
+of course, I knew him quite well.
+
+"Why, Heather," he said. "My dear," he continued, turning to his wife,
+"here's Major Grayson's little girl. Heather, child, what are you doing
+here?"
+
+"I am looking for Anastasia," I said, in a bewildered sort of way.
+
+Lady Carrington had a most sweet face. I had never noticed before how
+very lovely and kind it could be.
+
+"You poor little darling," she said, "Anastasia isn't here." Then she
+began whispering to her husband and looking down at me, and her soft,
+brown eyes filled with tears, and Sir John shook his head and I heard
+him say, "Dear, dear, how very pathetic!" and then Lady Carrington said,
+"We must take her home with us, John."
+
+"No, no," I answered at that; "I can't go home--I must wait until the
+_next_ train, for Anastasia will come by the _next_ train."
+
+"We'll see that she's met," said Sir John. "Come, Heather, you've got to
+come home with us."
+
+I have often wondered since what my subsequent life would have been had
+I really gone home that night with Sir John and Lady Carrington, whether
+the troubles which lay before me would ever have existed, and whether I
+should have been the Heather I now am, or not. But be that as it may,
+just as Lady Carrington had put sixpence into the hand of my kind porter
+and was leading me away towards the beautiful motor car which was
+waiting for her, a strong and very bony hand was laid on my shoulder,
+and a voice said fiercely, and yet with a tremble in it:
+
+"Well, you are enough to try the nerves of anybody, you bad, naughty
+child!"
+
+"Oh, Aunt Penelope," I said. "Oh, Aunt Penelope, I can't go back with
+you!"
+
+"We knew this little girl," said Sir John; "she came from India on board
+the _Pleiades_ with us."
+
+"Heather Grayson came from India on board the _Pleiades_ to live with
+me," said Aunt Penelope. "Her father has just committed her to my care.
+She is an extremely naughty child. I haven't the least idea who you
+are."
+
+"This is my card," said Sir John.
+
+When Aunt Penelope read the words on the card she became kinder in her
+manner.
+
+"I suppose I must welcome you back again, Sir John," she said. "It is
+years and years since you visited your native place. But I won't detain
+you now. Heather, come with me."
+
+"Pray give us your name," said Lady Carrington.
+
+"Miss Despard, of Hill View," was her answer, and then she took my hand
+and led me out into the street.
+
+I suppose I was really feverish, or whatever that word signifies to a
+child, for I do not remember anything about what happened during the
+next few days; then by slow degrees memory returned to me. I was very
+weak when this happened. Memory came back in a sort of dim way at first,
+and seemed to be half real and half a dream. Once I was quite certain
+that I saw a tall and broadly-made man in the room, and that when he
+stood up his head nearly touched the ceiling, and that when he sat down
+by my cot and took my hand I said "Daddy, daddy," and after that I had a
+comfortable sleep. There is no doubt whatever that I had a sort of dream
+or memory of this tall man, not once, but twice or thrice; then I did
+not see him any more.
+
+Again, I had another memory. Anastasia had really come by a train at
+last, and was in my room. She was bending over me and smoothing my
+bed-clothes, and telling me over and over again to be a good girl, and I
+kept on saying, "Oh, Anastasia, don't let the pins stick in," but even
+that memory faded. Then there came more distinct thoughts that seemed to
+be not memories but realities. Aunt Penelope sat by my bedside. There
+was nothing dreamlike about her. She was very upright and full of
+purpose, and she was always knitting either a long grey stocking or a
+short sock. She never seemed to waste a moment of her time, and while I
+looked at her in a dazed sort of way, she kept on saying, "Don't fidget
+so, Heather," or perhaps she said, "Heather, it's time for your gruel,"
+or, "Heather, my dear, your beef tea is ready for you."
+
+At last there came a day when I remembered everything, and there were no
+shadows of any sort, and I sat up in bed, a very weak little child. Aunt
+Penelope was kinder than usual that day. She gave me a little bit of
+chicken to eat, and I was so hungry that I enjoyed it very much, and
+then she said:
+
+"Now you will do nicely, Heather, and I hope in future you will be
+careful of your health and not give me such a fright again."
+
+"Aunt Penelope," I said, "I want to ask you a question, or rather, two
+questions."
+
+"Ask away, my dear," she replied.
+
+"Did father come here by any chance? While I was in that cloud sort of
+world I seemed to feel that he came to see me, and that he looked taller
+and broader than before."
+
+"I should think he did," said Aunt Penelope. "Why, he had to stoop to
+get in at the door, and when he was in the room his head almost touched
+the ceiling."
+
+"Then he was here?" I said.
+
+"Yes. He came three times to see you. That was when you were really
+bad."
+
+"When is he coming again?" I asked.
+
+"Finish your chicken, and don't ask silly questions," snapped Aunt
+Penelope.
+
+I did finish my chicken, and Aunt Penelope took the plate away.
+
+"Was Anastasia here also?" I asked. "And did I say to her, 'Please,
+don't let the pins stick in'?"
+
+"The woman who brought you back from India came to see you once or
+twice," said Aunt Penelope.
+
+"Then she did catch the next train?" I said.
+
+"You have talked enough now, my dear Heather. Lie down and go to sleep."
+
+"When will she come again?" I asked.
+
+"You have talked enough. I am not going to answer any silly questions.
+Lie down and sleep."
+
+I was very sleepy, and I suppose that when you are really as weak as I
+was then, you don't feel things very much. Now I allowed Aunt Penelope
+to lay me flat down in my little bed, and closing my eyes I forgot
+everything in slumber.
+
+Those are my first memories. I got well, of course, of that childish
+illness, and Aunt Penelope by and by explained things to me.
+
+Anastasia was not coming back at all, and father had gone to India. Aunt
+Penelope was rather restrained and rather queer when she spoke of
+father. She told me also that she had the entire charge of me, and that
+I was being brought up at her expense, as father had no money to spend
+on me. She gave me to understand that she was a very poor woman, and
+could not afford any servant except Buttons, or Jonas, as she called
+him. She said she preferred a boy in the house to a woman, for he was
+smarter at going messages and a greater protection at night. I could not
+understand half what she said. Almost all her narrative was mixed with
+injunctions to me to be good, to be very good, to love my aunt more than
+anyone in the world, but to love God best. When I stoutly declared that
+I loved father better than anyone in any world, she said I was a naughty
+child. I did not mind that--I kept on saying that I loved father best.
+
+Then I got quite well and was sent to school, to a funny sort of little
+day school, where I did not learn a great deal, but made friends slowly
+with other children. I liked school better than home, for Aunt Penelope
+was always saying, "Don't, don't!" or, "You mustn't, you mustn't!" when
+I was at home; and as I never knew why I should not do the things she
+said I was not to do, I kept on doing them in a sort of bewilderment.
+But at school there were rules of a sort, and I followed them as
+attentively as I could.
+
+Thus the years went by, and from a little girl of eight years of age I
+was a tall, slender girl of eighteen, grown up--yes, grown up at last,
+and I was waiting for father, who was coming back for good, and my heart
+was full to the brim with longing to see him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+During all these long years I had grown to tolerate Aunt Penelope. I
+found that her bark was worse than her bite; I found, too, that if I let
+her alone, she let me alone. She was always changing Buttons, and the
+new boy was invariably called Jonas, just as the last had been. The
+parrot kept on living, and kept on shouting at intervals every day,
+"Stop knocking at the door!" but he never would learn any fresh words,
+although I tried hard to teach him. He did not like me, and snapped at
+me when I endeavoured to be kind to him. So I concluded that he was a
+kind of "double" of Aunt Penelope, and left him alone.
+
+The little house was kept scrupulously clean, but the food was of the
+plainest, and Aunt Penelope wore the oldest and shabbiest clothes, and
+she dressed me very badly too. At that time in my career I did not
+greatly mind about dress. What I did mind was that she never would let
+me talk about father. She always shut me up or turned the conversation.
+She had an awful book of musty old sermons, which she set me to read
+aloud to her the very instant I began to ask her questions about my
+father, so that by degrees I kept my thoughts to myself. I wrote to
+father from the very first, but I never got a reply. I used to post the
+letters myself, so I knew they must have reached him, but he never
+answered, and as the years went on I wrote less often, for you cannot
+keep up a correspondence on one side only. I used to wonder at the time
+if Aunt Penelope kept back his letters to me, but I did not like to
+accuse her of such a monstrous crime.
+
+At last, however, just after I had passed my eighteenth birthday, and
+was a tall, shabbily-dressed girl, who had learnt all that could be
+taught at the High School--the only one to which Aunt Penelope could
+afford to send me--she herself came to me in a state of great
+excitement, and said that father was returning home.
+
+"He is coming to settle in England," she said. "I must be frank with
+you, Heather, and tell you that it is not at all to your advantage that
+he should do so."
+
+"Aunt Penelope," I answered, "why do you say words of that sort?"
+
+"I say them," she replied, "because I know the world and you don't. Your
+father is not the sort of man who would do any girl the slightest good."
+
+"You had better not speak against him to me," I said.
+
+"I have taken great pains with you," said Aunt Penelope, "and have
+brought you up entirely out of my own very slender means. You are, for
+your age, fairly well educated, you understand household duties. You can
+light a fire as quickly and deftly as any girl I ever met, and you
+understand the proper method of dusting a room. You can also do plain
+cooking, and you can make your own clothes. I don't know anything about
+your intellectual acquirements, but your teacher, Miss Mansel, at the
+High School, says that you are fairly proficient. Well, my dear, all
+these things you owe to me. You came to me a very ignorant, very
+self-opinionated, silly, delicate little girl. You are now a fine,
+strong young woman. Your father is returning--he will be here
+to-morrow."
+
+I clasped my hands tightly together. There was no use in saying to this
+withered old aunt of mine how I pined for him, how his kindly,
+good-humoured face, his blue eyes, his grizzled locks, had haunted and
+haunted me for ten long years.
+
+"I understand," said Aunt Penelope, "that your father, after running
+through all his own money, and all of yours--for your mother had as much
+to live on as I have--has suddenly come into a new fortune. In his last
+letter to me he wrote that he wished to take you to London to introduce
+you to the great world. Now, I earnestly hope, my dear Heather, that you
+will be firm on this point and refuse to go with him. I am an old woman
+now, and I need your presence as a return for all the kindness I have
+done for you, and the life with your father would be anything but good
+for you. I shall naturally not object to your seeing him again, but, to
+speak frankly, I think, after all the years of toil and trouble I have
+spent on you, it is your bounden duty to stay with me and to refuse your
+father's invitation to go to London with him."
+
+"Stop knocking at the door!" called the parrot at that moment.
+
+When Aunt Penelope had finished her long speech I looked at her and then
+said quietly:
+
+"I know you have been good to me, and I have been many times a naughty
+girl to you, but, you see, father comes first, and if he wants me I am
+going to him."
+
+"I thought you would say so. Your ingratitude is past bearing."
+
+"Fathers always do come before aunts, don't they?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, please don't become childish again, Heather. Go out and get the
+tea. I am tired of the want of proper feeling of the present day. Do you
+know that this morning Jonas broke that valuable Dresden cup and saucer
+that I have always set such store by? It has spoiled my set."
+
+"What a shame," I answered. And I went into the kitchen to prepare the
+tea.
+
+The Jonas of that day was a small boy of thirteen. He wore the very
+antiquated suit of Buttons which the first Jonas had appeared in ten
+years ago. He had very fat, red cheeks, and small, puffy eyes, and a
+little button of a mouth, and he was always asleep except when Aunt
+Penelope was about, when he ran and raced and pretended to do a lot, and
+broke more things than can be imagined. He awoke now when I entered the
+kitchen.
+
+"Jonas, you are a bad boy," I said; "the kettle isn't boiling, and the
+fire is nearly out."
+
+"I'll pour some paraffin on the fire and it will blaze up in a minute,"
+said Jonas.
+
+"You won't do anything of the kind; it is most dangerous--and Jonas,
+what a shame that you should have broken that Dresden cup and saucer!"
+
+"Lor', miss, it was very old," said Jonas. "We wears out ourselves, so
+does the chaney."
+
+"Now don't talk nonsense," said I, half laughing. "Cut some bread and
+I'll toast it. Jonas, I am a very happy girl to-day; my dear father is
+coming back to-morrow."
+
+"Lor'," said Jonas, "I wouldn't be glad if my gov'nor wor coming back.
+He's sarvin' his time, miss, but don't let on that you know."
+
+"Serving his time?" I answered. "What is that?"
+
+"Lor', miss, he's kept by the Government. They has all the expense of
+him, and a powerful eater he ever do be!"
+
+I did not inquire any further, but went on preparing the tea. When it
+was ready I brought it to Aunt Penelope.
+
+"Do you know," I said, as I poured her out a cup, "that Jonas says his
+father is 'serving his time'? What does that mean?"
+
+Aunt Penelope turned red and then white. Then she said, in a curious,
+restrained sort of voice:
+
+"I wouldn't use that expression if I were you, Heather. It applies to
+people who are detained in prison."
+
+"Oh!" I answered. Then I said, in a low tone, "I am very sorry for
+Jonas."
+
+The next day father came back. Ten years is a very long time to have
+done without seeing your only living parent, and if father had been red
+and grizzled when last I beheld him, his hair was white now.
+Notwithstanding this fact, his eyes were as blue as ever, and he had the
+same jovial manner. He hugged and hugged me, and pushed me away from him
+and looked at me again, and then he hugged me once more, and said to
+Aunt Penelope:
+
+"She does you credit, Penelope. She does, really and truly. When we have
+smartened her up a bit, and--oh! you know all about it, Penelope--she'll
+be as fine a girl as I ever saw."
+
+"I have taught Heather to regard her clothes in the light in which the
+sacred Isaac Watts spoke of them," replied Aunt Penelope:
+
+    "Why should our garments, made to hide
+    Our parents' shame, provoke our pride?
+    Let me be dressed fine as I will,
+    Flies, flowers, and moths, exceed me still."
+
+"That's a very ugly verse, if you will permit me to say so, Penelope,"
+remarked my father, and then he dragged me down to sit on his knee.
+
+He was wonderfully like his old self, and yet there was an extraordinary
+change in him. He used to be--at least the dream-father I had thought of
+all these years used to be--a very calm, self-contained man, never put
+out nor wanting in self-possession. But now he started at intervals and
+had an anxious, almost nervous manner. Aunt Penelope would not allow me
+to sit long on my father's knee.
+
+"You forget, Heather, that you are not a child," she said. "Jump up and
+attend to the Major's comforts. I do not forget, Major, how particular
+you used to be about your toast. You were an awful fidget when you were
+a young man."
+
+"Ha! ha!" said my father. "Ha! ha! And I am an awful fidget still, Pen,
+an awful fidget. But Heather makes good toast; she's a fine girl--that
+is, she will be, when I have togged her up a bit."
+
+Here he winked at me, and Aunt Penelope turned aside as though she could
+scarcely bear the sight. After tea, to my infinite disgust, I was
+requested to leave the room. I went up to my tiny room, and, to judge
+from the rise and fall of two voices, an animated discussion was going
+on downstairs. At the end of half an hour Aunt Penelope called to me to
+come down. As I entered the room the parrot said, "Stop knocking at the
+door!" and my father remarked:
+
+"I wonder, Penelope, you don't choke that bird!" Aunt Penelope turned to
+me with tears in her eyes.
+
+"Heather, your father wishes you to join him in London at once. He has
+arranged, however, that you shall spend a certain portion of each year
+with me."
+
+"Yes," remarked my father, "the dull time in the autumn. You shall
+always have her back then--that is, until she marries a duke or someone
+worthy of her."
+
+"Am I really to go with you, Daddy?" I asked. "Really and truly?"
+
+"Not to come with me to-night, pretty pet," he answered, pinching my
+cheek as he spoke. "I must find a habitation worthy of my little girl.
+But early next week your aunt--your kind aunt--will see you into the
+train and I will meet you at the terminus, and then, heigho! for a new
+life!"
+
+I could not help laughing with glee, and then I was sorry, for Aunt
+Penelope had been as kind as kind could be after her fashion, and I did
+wrong not to feel some regret at leaving her. But when a girl has only
+her father, and that father has been away for ten long years, surely she
+is to be excused for wishing to be with him again.
+
+Aunt Penelope hardly spoke at all after my father left. What her
+thoughts were I could not define; I am afraid, too, I did not try to
+guess them. But early next morning she began to make preparations for my
+departure. The little trunks which had accompanied me to Hill View were
+placed in the centre of my room, and Aunt Penelope put my very modest
+wardrobe into them. She laid between my nice, clean, fresh linen some
+bunches of home-grown lavender.
+
+"You will think of me when you smell this fragrant perfume, Heather,"
+she said; and I thought I saw something of a suspicion of tears in her
+eyes. I sprang to her then, and flung my arms round her neck, and said:
+
+"Oh, I do want to go, and yet I also want to stay. Can't you understand,
+Aunt Penelope?"
+
+"No, I cannot," she replied, pulling my hands away almost roughly; "and,
+what is more, I dislike silly, nonsensical speeches. No one can wish to
+do two things directly opposite at the same time. Now, count out your
+handkerchiefs. I bought you six new ones for your last birthday, and you
+had before then, how many?"
+
+I am afraid I forgot. I am afraid I tried Aunt Penelope very much; but,
+after all, her time of suffering was to be short, for that very evening
+there came a telegram from father, desiring Aunt Penelope to send me up
+to London by the twelve o'clock train the following day.
+
+"I will meet Heather at Victoria," he said.
+
+So the next day I left Hill View, and kissed Aunt Penelope when I went,
+and very nearly kissed the parrot, and shook hands quite warmly with the
+reigning Jonas, and Aunt Penelope saw me off at the station, and I was
+as glad to go as I had been sorry to come. Thus I shut away the old
+life, and turned to face the new.
+
+I had not been half an hour in the carriage before, looking up, I saw
+the kind eyes of a very beautiful lady fixed on mine. I had been so
+absorbed with different things that I had not noticed her until that
+moment. She bent towards me, and said:
+
+"I think I cannot be mistaken, surely your name is Heather Grayson?"
+
+"Yes," I answered.
+
+"And you are going to meet your father, Major Grayson?"
+
+"How do you know?" I said.
+
+"Well, it so happens that I am going up to town to meet both him and my
+husband. It is long years since I have seen you; but you are not greatly
+altered. Do you remember the day when you went to the railway station at
+Cherton, and asked for a person called Anastasia, and my husband and I
+spoke to you?"
+
+"Oh, are you indeed Lady Carrington?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, I am; and I am going to town to meet your father and Sir John. You
+were a very little girl when I had the pleasure of last speaking to you;
+now you are a young woman."
+
+"Yes," I replied. Then I added, looking her full in the face, "I suppose
+I am quite grown-up; I am eighteen."
+
+"Do you mind telling me, Miss Grayson, if you are going to live with
+your father?"
+
+"I think so," I replied.
+
+She looked very thoughtful. After a minute she said:
+
+"You can confide in me or not, Miss Grayson. I ask for no confidences on
+your part that you are not willing to give, and if you would rather not
+tell me, I will not press you."
+
+"What do you want to say?" I asked.
+
+"Have you any idea why you have been separated from your father for ten
+long years?"
+
+"My father was in India," I replied, "and Aunt Penelope says that India
+is not thought good for little girls. I liked it immensely when I was
+there, but Aunt Penelope says it injures them in some sort of fashion.
+Of course, I cannot tell how or why."
+
+"And that is all you really know?"
+
+"There is nothing else to know," I replied.
+
+She was silent, leaning back against her cushions. Just as we were
+reaching Victoria she bent forward again, and said:
+
+"Heather--for I must call you by that name--I have known your father for
+years, and whatever the world may do, I, for one, will never forsake
+him, nor will my dear husband. I have also known your mother, although
+she died many years ago. For these reasons I want to be good to you,
+their only child. So, Heather, if you happen to be in trouble, will you
+come to me? My address is 15A, Princes Gate. I am at home most mornings,
+and at all times a letter written to that address will find me. Ah!
+here we are, and I see your father and--and my husband." She abruptly
+took my hand and squeezed it.
+
+"Remember what I have said to you," was her next remark, "and keep the
+knowledge that I mean to be your friend to yourself."
+
+The train drew up at the platform. Father clasped me in his arms. He
+introduced me to Sir John Carrington, who laughed and said: "Oh, what a
+changed Heather!" and then my father spoke to Lady Carrington, who began
+to talk to him at once in a very earnest, low voice. I heard her say:
+
+"Where are you taking her?" but I could not hear my father's reply.
+
+Then the Carringtons drove off in their beautiful motor-car, and father
+and I stepped into a brougham, a private one, very nicely appointed, my
+luggage--such very simple luggage--was placed on the roof, and we were
+away together.
+
+"Now I want Anastasia," I said.
+
+"We'll find her if we can," said father. "You'd like her to be your
+maid, wouldn't you, Heather?"
+
+"Oh, yes," I answered. "I did miss her so awfully." And I told father
+how I had run to the railway station to meet the next train on that
+terrible day long ago and how Aunt Penelope had followed me.
+
+He laughed, and said I was a rare plucky one, and then we drew up before
+a grand hotel and entered side by side. We were shown immediately into a
+private sitting-room, which had two bedrooms opening out of it, one for
+father and one for me. Father said:
+
+"Heather, I mean to show you life as it is, and to-night we are going to
+the theatre. We shall meet a friend of mine there--a very charming lady,
+who, I know, will be interested in you, and I want you to be interested
+in her too, as she is a great friend of mine."
+
+"But I only want you to be great friends with me," I said.
+
+Father laughed at this, got a little red, and turned the conversation.
+
+"What dress have you for the theatre?" he asked.
+
+"I don't think I have any," I said. "I don't possess any evening dress."
+
+"But that won't do," he replied. "What is the hour? We really haven't an
+instant to lose."
+
+He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.
+
+"We can manage it," he said. He spoke down a tube, and presently was
+told that his carriage awaited him.
+
+"Come, Heather, come," he said. "You must be togged up properly for
+to-night."
+
+After my very quiet life at Hill View this complete change made me so
+excited that I scarcely knew how to contain myself.
+
+We got into the brougham and drove to a smart shop, where fortunately a
+pretty dress of soft black was able to be procured. This was paid for
+and put into a box, and we returned to the hotel, but not before father
+had bought me also some lilies of the valley to wear with the dress.
+
+I went up to our sitting-room alone, for he was busy talking to a lady
+who seemed to have the charge of a certain department downstairs, the
+result of which was that after tea a very fashionable hairdresser
+arrived, who arranged my thick dark hair in the latest and most becoming
+fashion, and who even helped me to get into my black dress. When I
+joined father my eyes were shining and my cheeks were bright with
+colour.
+
+"Oh, what fun this is!" I said.
+
+"Yes, isn't it?" he answered. "Where are your flowers?"
+
+I had put them on, but he did not like the way I had arranged them, so
+he settled them himself in a more becoming manner, and then he slipped a
+single string of pearls round my white throat and showed me--lying on a
+chair near by--a most lovely, dainty opera cloak, all made in pink and
+white, which suited me just perfectly.
+
+"Now, we'll have some dinner, and then we'll be off," he said. "Lady
+Helen Dalrymple will admire you to-night, Heather, and I want her to."
+
+Who was Lady Helen Dalrymple?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+It certainly was a wonderful night. Lady Helen Dalrymple had placed her
+box at the theatre at our disposal. She was a tall and slender woman,
+dressed in the extreme height of a fashion which I had never even
+dreamed about. Her cheeks had a wonderful colour in them, which was at
+once soft and vivid. Her lips were red and her eyes exceedingly dark.
+She greeted me with great _empressement_; her voice was high-pitched,
+and I cannot say that it impressed me agreeably.
+
+"Welcome, welcome, my dear Heather," she said, and then she invited me
+to seat myself on the front chair near her own, whereas father sat
+behind at the back of the box.
+
+The play began, and to me it was a peep into fairy land. I had never
+seen a play before, but, of course, I had read about plays and great
+actors and actresses, and this one--_As You Like It_--took my breath
+away. I could scarcely restrain my rapture as the different scenes
+flitted before my eyes, and as the characters--all real to me--fitted
+their respective parts. But in the midst of my delight Lady Helen bent
+towards me and said:
+
+"Don't the footlights dazzle your eyes a little, child? Would you not
+prefer to take this chair and let your father come to the front of the
+box?"
+
+Now, my eyes were quite strong, and the footlights did not dazzle them
+in the very least, but I slipped back into the other seat, and, after
+that, if the truth must be known, I only got little glimpses of the play
+from time to time. Lady Helen and father, instead of being in raptures
+over the performance, kept up a running fire of whispered talk together,
+not one word of which could I catch, nor, indeed, did I want to--so
+absorbingly anxious was I to follow the story of Rosalind in the Forest
+of Arden.
+
+When at last the performance was over, father suggested that we should
+all go to the Savoy Hotel for supper, where, accordingly, we went. But
+once again, although there was a very nice table reserved for us, father
+and Lady Helen did all the talking, and I was left in the cold. I looked
+around me, and for the first time had a distinct sense of home-sickness
+for the very quiet little house I had left. By this time Aunt Penelope
+would be sound asleep in bed, and Buttons would have gone to his rest in
+the attic, and the parrot would have ceased to say "Stop knocking at the
+door!" I was not accustomed to be up so late, and I suddenly found
+myself yawning.
+
+Lady Helen fixed her bright eyes on my face.
+
+"Tired, Heather?" she asked.
+
+I had an instinctive sort of feeling that she ought not to call me
+Heather, and started back a little when she spoke.
+
+"Oh, you need not be shocked, Heather," said my father. "Lady Helen is
+such a very great friend of mine that you ought to be only too proud
+when she addresses you by your Christian name."
+
+"I shall have a great deal to do with you in future, my dear," said Lady
+Helen, and then she looked at father, and they both laughed.
+
+"The very first thing I want you to see about, kind Lady Helen," said
+father, in his most chivalrous manner, "is this poor, sweet child's
+wardrobe. She wants simply everything. Will you take her to the shops
+to-morrow and order for her just what she requires?"
+
+Lady Helen smiled and nodded.
+
+"We shall be in time to have her presented." Lady Helen bent her face
+towards father's and whispered something. He turned very white.
+
+"Never mind," he said; "I always thought that presentation business was
+a great waste of time, and I am quite sure that we shall do well for
+little Heather without it."
+
+"I am so tired," I could not help saying.
+
+"Then home we'll go, my girl. Lady Helen, I will call early to-morrow
+and bring Heather with me, if I may. Whatever happens, she must be
+properly dressed."
+
+"I shall be ready to receive you, Major, at eleven o'clock," said Lady
+Helen, and then she touched my hand coldly and indifferently, but smiled
+with her brilliant eyes at my father. Her motor-car was waiting for her;
+she was whirled away, and we drove back in our brougham to the hotel.
+
+"Well, Heather," said my father, "what a wonderful day this must have
+been for you. Tell me how you felt about everything. You used to be such
+an outspoken little child. Didn't you just love the play, eh?"
+
+"I loved the beginning of it," I said.
+
+"You naughty girl! You mean to say you didn't like the end--all that
+part about Rosalind when she comes on the stage as a boy?"
+
+"I could not see it, father--I could only see the back of your head; and
+oh, father, your head is getting very bald, but the back of Lady Helen's
+head isn't bald at all--it is covered with thick, thick hair, which goes
+out very wide at the sides and comes down low on her neck."
+
+"It's my belief she wears a wig, Heather," said my father, bending
+towards me. "But we won't repeat it, will we, darling? So she and I took
+up all your view, poor little girl! Well, we did it in thoughtlessness."
+
+"I don't think she did," I answered stoutly "I think she wanted to talk
+to you."
+
+"She'll have plenty of time for that in the future," he said; "but tell
+me now, before we get to the hotel, what do you think of her ladyship?
+She's a very smart-looking woman--eh?"
+
+"I don't know what that means, father, but I don't like her at all."
+
+"You don't like her--why, child?"
+
+"I can't say; except that I don't."
+
+"Oh, you mustn't give way to silly fancies," said my father. "She's a
+very fine woman. You oughtn't to turn against her, my dear Heather."
+
+"Do you like her, father?" I asked, nestling up to him and slipping my
+hand into his.
+
+"Awfully, my dear child; she's my very dearest friend."
+
+"Oh! not dearer than I am?" I said, my heart beating hard.
+
+He made no reply to this, and my heart continued to beat a great deal
+faster than was good for it.
+
+By and by I went to bed. I was very, very tired, so tired that the
+strange room, with its beautiful furniture, made little or no impression
+on me. The very instant I laid my head on the pillow I was far away in
+the land of dreams. Once more I was back with Aunt Penelope, once more
+the parrot screamed, "Stop knocking at the door!" once more Jonas broke
+some crockery and wept over his misdeeds, and once more Aunt Penelope
+forgave him and said that she would not send him away without a
+character this time. Then, in my dreams, the scene changed, and I was no
+longer in the quiet peace of the country, but in the bustle and
+excitement of London. Father was with me. Yes, after all the long years,
+father was with me again. How I had mourned for him--how I had cried
+out my baby heart for him--how glad I was to feel that I was close to
+him once more!
+
+By his side was Lady Helen Dalrymple, and I did not like Lady Helen. She
+seemed to push herself between father and me, and when at last I awoke
+with the morning sun shining into my room, I found myself saying to
+father, as I had said to him in reality the night before, "Lady Helen is
+not dearer than I am?" and once again, as on the night before, father
+made no reply of any sort.
+
+I was awakened by a nice-looking maid, who was evidently the maid in
+attendance on that special floor of the hotel, bringing me some tea and
+some crisp toast. I was thirsty, and the excitement of the night before
+had not yet subsided. I munched my toast and drank my tea, and then,
+when the maid asked me if I would like a hot bath in my room, I said
+"Yes." This luxury was brought to me, and I enjoyed it very much. I had
+to dress once again in the clothes that father thought so shabby, the
+neat little brown frock--"snuff-coloured," he was pleased to call
+it--the little frock, made after a bygone pattern, which just reached to
+my slender ankles and revealed pretty brown stockings to match and
+little brown shoes; for Aunt Penelope--badly as she was supposed to
+dress me--was very particular where these things were concerned. She
+always gave me proper etceteras for my dress. She expected the etceteras
+and the dress to last for a very long time, and to be most carefully
+looked after, and not on any account whatever to be used except for high
+days and holidays. But she had sufficient natural taste to make me wear
+brown ribbon and a brown hat and brown shoes and stockings to match my
+brown frock.
+
+I went down to breakfast in this apparel and found father waiting for me
+in the private sitting-room which he had ordered in the Westminster
+hotel. He came forward at once when I appeared, thrusting as he did so
+two or three open papers into his coat pocket.
+
+"Well, little girl," he said, "and how are you? Now, if I were an
+Irishman, I'd say, 'The top of the morning to you, bedad!' but being
+only a poor, broken-down English soldier, I must wish you the best of
+good days, my dear, and I do trust, my Heather, that this will prove a
+very good day for you, indeed."
+
+As father spoke he rang a bell, and when the waiter appeared he ordered
+_table d'hôte_ breakfast, which the man hastened to supply. As we were
+seated round the board which seemed to me to groan with the luxuries not
+only of that season, but of every season since cooking came into vogue,
+father remarked, as he helped himself to a devilled kidney, that really,
+all things considered, English cooking was _not_ to be despised.
+
+"Oh, but it's delicious!" I cried--"at least," I added, "the cooking at
+a hotel like this is too delicious for anything."
+
+"You dear little mite!" said father, smiling into my eyes. "And how did
+Auntie Pen serve you, darling? What did she give you morning, noon, and
+night?"
+
+I laughed.
+
+"Aunt Penelope believed in plain food," I said.
+
+"Trust her for that," remarked my father. "I could see at an eye's
+glance that she was the sort of old lady who'd starve the young."
+
+"Oh, no," I answered; "you are quite mistaken. Aunt Penelope never
+starved me and was never unkind to me. I love her very dearly, and I
+must ask you, father, please, not to speak against her to me."
+
+"Well, I won't, child; I admire loyalty in others. Now then, leave
+those kidneys and bacon alone. Have some cold tongue. What! you have had
+enough? Have a kipper, then. No? What a small appetite my little girl
+has got! At least have some bread and butter and marmalade. No again?
+Dear, dear--why, the sky must be going to fall! Well, I'll tell you
+what--we'll have some fruit."
+
+"Oh, dad, I should like that," I said.
+
+"Your bones are younger than mine, child," remarked the Major; "you must
+press that bell. Ah! here comes James. James, the very ripest melon you
+can procure; if you haven't it in the hotel, send out for it. Let us
+have it here with some powdered ginger and white sugar in less than ten
+minutes."
+
+"Yes, sir," answered the man. He bowed respectfully and withdrew.
+
+"What are you staring at, Heather?" asked my father.
+
+"You called that man James," I said. "Is that his name?"
+
+"Bless you, child, I don't know from Adam what his name is. I generally
+call all waiters 'James' when I'm in England; most of them are James, so
+that name as a rule hits the nail on the head. In Germany Fritz is
+supposed to be the word to say. But now, what are you thinking of? Oh,
+my little darling, it's I who am glad to have you back!"
+
+I left the table, and when James--whose real name I afterwards heard was
+Edgar--came back, he found me throttling father's neck and pressing my
+cheek against his.
+
+"Where's the charm I gave you, Heather? I trust you have it safe."
+
+I pointed with great pride to where it reposed on a little chain which
+held my tiny watch.
+
+"By Jove," said father, "you are a good child to have kept it so long.
+It will bring you luck--I told you it was a lucky stone. It was about to
+be placed on the tomb of the prophet Mahomet when I came across it and
+rescued it, but it was placed before then on many other sacred shrines.
+It will bring you luck, little Heather. But now, in the name of fortune,
+tell me who gave you this gold watch?"
+
+"Aunt Pen gave it to me," I said. "She gave it to me my last birthday;
+she said it had belonged to my mother, but that she had taken it after
+mother's death. She said she knew that mother would wish me to have
+it--which, of course, is the case. I love it and I love the little gold
+chain, and I love the charm, father."
+
+"The charm is the most valuable of all, for it brings luck," said my
+father. "Now, sit down and enjoy your melon."
+
+I don't think I had ever tasted an English melon before, and this one
+was certainly in superb condition. I rejoiced in its cool freshness and
+ate two or three slices, while father watched me, a pleased smile round
+his lips.
+
+"I am going to take you to Lady Helen this morning, Heather."
+
+"Yes, father," I answered, and I put down my last piece of melon,
+feeling that my appetite for the delicious fruit had suddenly faded.
+
+"Why don't you finish your fruit, child?"
+
+"I have had enough," I said.
+
+"That's a bad habit," said my father, "besides being bad form. Well-bred
+girls invariably finish what is put on their plates; I want you to be
+well-bred, my dear. You'll have so much to do with Lady Helen in the
+future that you must take advantage of a connection of that sort.
+Besides, being your father's daughter, it also behoves you to act as a
+lady."
+
+"I hope I shall always act as a lady," I said, and I felt my cheeks
+growing crimson and a feeling of hatred rising within me towards Lady
+Helen; "but if acting as a lady," I continued, "means eating more than
+is good for you, I don't see it, father, and I may as well tell you so
+first as last."
+
+"Bless you, child," said father, "bless you! I don't want to annoy you.
+Now, I'll tell you what your day is to be. Lady Helen will take you and
+get you measured for some smart dresses, and then you are to lunch at
+the Carringtons. Lady Carrington has been kind enough to send round this
+morning to invite you. She and Sir John are staying at their very smart
+house at Prince's Gate, Kensington. Lady Helen will put you down there
+in her motor, and then she and I will call for you later in the day. You
+will enjoy being with Lady Carrington. She is the sort of woman you
+ought to cultivate."
+
+"Lady Carrington used to live not far from Hill View," I said. "Once I
+met her and she--she was going to be kind to me, when Aunt Penelope
+stepped in and prevented it."
+
+"Eh, dear," said my father, "now what was that? Tell me that story."
+
+I did not like to, but he insisted. I described in as few words as
+possible my agony of mind after parting with him, and then my
+determination to find Anastasia, who, according to his own saying, was
+to come by the next train. I told him once again how I ran away and how
+I reached the railway station, and how the train came in and Lady
+Carrington spoke to me, as also did Sir John, but there was no
+Anastasia, and then Aunt Penelope came up, and--and--I remembered no
+more.
+
+"You were a troublesome little mite that day," said my father, kissing
+me as he spoke, and pinching my cheek. "Well do I recall the frenzy your
+poor aunt was in, and the telegrams and messages that came for me; well
+do I recollect the hunt I had for Anastasia, and how at last I found her
+and brought her to see you, and how you quieted down when she sat by
+your bedside. Well do I remember how often I sat there, too."
+
+"I remember it, too," I said, "only very dimly, just like a far-off
+dream. But, father, dear father, why didn't Anastasia stay?"
+
+"Your aunt would not have her, child."
+
+"And why didn't you stay? Why did you come when I could not recognise
+you and keep away when I could?"
+
+"_Noblesse oblige_," was his answer, and he hung his head a little and
+looked depressed.
+
+But just then there came a rustling, cheerful sound in the passage
+outside, and Lady Helen, her dress as gorgeous as it was the night
+before, with a very _outré_ picture hat, fastened at one side of her
+head, and with her eyes as bright as two stars, entered the room. She
+floated rather than walked up to father's side, took his two hands, then
+dropped them, and said, in her high-pitched, very staccato voice:
+
+"How do you do, Major? You see, I could not wait, but have come for the
+dear little _ingénue_. I am quite ready to take you off, Heather, and to
+supply you with the very prettiest clothes. Your father has given me
+_carte blanche_ to do as I please--is not that so, Major?"
+
+"Yes," answered my father, bowing most gallantly and looking like the
+very essence of the finest gentleman in the land. "I shall be glad to
+leave Heather in such good hands. You will see that she is simply
+dressed, and--oh, I could not leave the matter in better hands. By the
+way, Lady Helen, I have had a letter this morning from Lady Carrington;
+she wants the child to lunch with her. Will you add to your many acts of
+goodness by dropping her at Prince's Gate not later than one o'clock?"
+
+"Certainly," said Lady Helen.
+
+"I shall have lunch ready for you, dear friend," said my father, "at a
+quarter past one precisely at the Savoy."
+
+"Ah, how quite too sweet!" said Lady Helen. She gave the tips of her
+fingers to father, who kissed them lightly, and then she desired me to
+fly upstairs and put on my hat and jacket. When I came down again,
+dressed to go out, I found Lady Helen and father standing close together
+and talking in low, impressive tones. The moment I entered the room,
+however, they sprang apart, and father said:
+
+"Ah, here we are--here we are! Now, my little Heather, keep up that
+youthful expression; it is vastly becoming. Even Lady Helen cannot give
+you the look of youth, which is so charming, but she can bestow on you
+the air of fashion, which is indispensable."
+
+Father conducted us downstairs and opened the door of the luxurious
+motor-car. Lady Helen requested me to step in first, and then she
+followed. A direction was given to the chauffeur, the door was shut
+behind us, father bowed, and stood with his bare, somewhat bald head in
+the street. The last glimpse I had of him he was smiling and looking
+quite radiant; then we turned a corner and he was lost to view.
+
+"Well, and what do you think of it all?" said Lady Helen. "Is the little
+bird in its nest beginning to say, 'Cheep, cheep'? Is it feeling hungry
+and wanting to see the world?"
+
+"All places are the world," I answered, somewhat sententiously.
+
+"For goodness' sake, child," said Lady Helen, "don't talk in that prim
+fashion! Whatever you are in the future, don't put on airs to me. You
+are about the most ignorant little creature I ever came across--it will
+be my pleasure to form and mould you, and to bring you at last to that
+state of perfection which alone is considered befitting to the modern
+girl. My dear, I mean to be very good to you."
+
+"That is, I suppose, because you are so fond of father," I said.
+
+She coloured a little, and the hand which she had laid for a moment
+lightly on my hand was snatched away.
+
+"That kind of remark is terribly _outré_," she said; "but I shall soon
+correct all that, my dear. You won't know yourself in one month from the
+present time. Child of nature, indeed! You will be much more likely to
+be the child of art. But dress is the great accessory. Before we begin
+to form style and manner we must be dressed to suit our part in this
+world's mummer show."
+
+The car drew up before a large and fashionable shop. Lady Helen and I
+entered. Lady Helen did all the talking, and many bales of wonderful
+goods, glistening and shining in the beautiful sun, were brought forward
+for her inspection. Lady Helen chose afternoon dresses, morning dresses,
+evening dresses; she chose these things by the half-dozen. I tried to
+expostulate, and to say they would never be worn out; Lady Helen's
+remark was that they would scarcely drag me through the season. Then I
+pleaded father's poverty; I whispered to Lady Helen: "Father cannot
+afford them."
+
+She looked at me out of her quizzical dark eyes and, laying her hand on
+my shoulder, said:
+
+"You may be quite sure of one thing, little girl--that I won't allow
+your father to run into unnecessary expense."
+
+I began to be sick of dresses. I found myself treated as a little
+nobody, I was twisted right way front, and wrong way back. I was made to
+look over my right shoulder at my own reflection in a long mirror; I was
+desired to stoop and to stand upright; I was given a succession of
+mirrors to look through; I got deadly tired of my own face.
+
+When the choosing of the dresses had come to an end there were stockings
+and shoes and boots to be purchased, and one or two very dainty little
+jackets, and then there was a wealth of lovely chinchilla fur, and a
+little toque to match, and afterwards hats--hats to match every costume;
+in addition to which there was a very big white hat with a huge ostrich
+plume, and a black hat with a plume nearly as big. Gloves were bestowed
+upon me by the dozen. I felt giddy, and could scarcely at last take the
+slightest interest in my own wardrobe. Suddenly Lady Helen looked at her
+watch, uttered an exclamation, and said:
+
+"Oh, dear me! It is ten minutes past one! What am I to do? I must not
+fail your father at the Savoy. Do you think, child, if I put you into a
+hansom, you could drive to the house at Prince's Gate? I would give all
+directions to the driver."
+
+"I am sure I could," I answered.
+
+I was not at all afraid of London, knowing nothing of its dangers.
+
+"Then that is much the best thing to do," said Lady Helen. She turned to
+a man who was a sort of porter at the big shop, and gave him exact
+orders what he was to do and what he was to say. A hansom was called,
+the cabman was paid by Lady Helen herself, and at last I was off and
+alone.
+
+I was glad of this. I had a great sense of relief when that patched-up,
+faded, and yet still beautiful face was no longer near me. When I
+reached the house at Prince's Gate I felt rested and refreshed. There
+was a servant in very smart livery standing in the hall, and of him I
+ventured to inquire if Lady Carrington were at home.
+
+"Is your name, madam, Miss Heather Grayson?" inquired the man.
+
+I replied at once in the affirmative.
+
+"Then her ladyship is expecting you. I will take you to her."
+
+He moved across a wide and beautifully carpeted hall, knocked at a door
+at the further end, and, in answer to the words "Come in," flung the
+door open and announced "Miss Grayson, your ladyship," whereupon I found
+myself on the threshold of a wonderful and delightfully home-like room.
+A lady, neither young nor old, had risen as the man appeared. She came
+eagerly forward--not at all with the eagerness of Lady Helen, but with
+the eagerness of one who gives a sincere welcome. Her large brown eyes
+seemed to express the very soul of benevolence.
+
+"I am glad to see you, dear," she said. "How are you? Sit down on this
+sofa, won't you? You must rest for a minute or two and then I will take
+you upstairs myself, and you shall wash your hands and brush your hair
+before lunch. It is nice to see you again, little Heather. Do you know
+that all the long years you lived at High View I have been wanting, and
+wanting in vain, to make your acquaintance?"
+
+"Oh, but what can you mean?" I asked, looking into that charming and
+beautiful face and wondering what the lady was thinking of. "Would not
+Aunt Penelope let you? Surely you must have known that I should have
+been only too proud?"
+
+"My dear, we won't discuss what your aunt wished to conceal from you.
+Now that you have come to live with your father, and now that you are my
+near neighbour, I hope to see a great deal of you. Your aunt was
+doubtless right in keeping you a good deal to herself. You see, dear,
+it's like this. You have been brought up unspotted from the world."
+
+"I like the world," I answered; "I don't think it's a bad place. I am
+very much interested in London, and I am exceedingly glad to have met
+you again. Don't you remember, Lady Carrington, how tightly I held your
+hand on that dreadful day when I was first brought to Aunt Penelope?"
+
+"I shall never forget the pressure of your little hand. But now I see
+you are quite ready to come upstairs. Come along, then--Sir John may be
+in at any moment, and he never likes to have his lunch kept waiting."
+
+Lady Carrington's beautiful bedroom was exactly over her sitting-room.
+There I saw myself in a sort of glow of colour, all lovely and
+iridescent and charming. There was something remarkable about the room,
+for it had a strange gift of putting grace--yes, absolute grace--into
+your clothes. Even my shabby brown frock seemed to be illuminated, and
+as to my face, it glowed with faint colour, and my eyes became large and
+bright. I washed my hands and brushed back my soft, dark hair. Then I
+returned to the drawing-room with Lady Carrington.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+A tall man was standing on the hearthrug when I came in. There was a
+cheerful fire burning in the grate, and he was standing with his back to
+it, and apparently enjoying the pleasant glow which emanated from its
+bright depths. There was also a young man in the room who was nearly as
+tall as the elder gentleman. The younger man had very dark eyes and an
+olive complexion, straight, rather handsome features, and a strong chin
+and a good mouth.
+
+"John," said Lady Carrington, "here is little Heather."
+
+"How do you do, my dear--how do you do?" said Sir John.
+
+He came forward as he spoke and wrung my hand, looking into my eyes with
+a curious mingling of affection and amusement.
+
+"Ah!" he said; "you have grown a good bit since that wonderful night
+long ago, eh, Heather?"
+
+"I am grown up," I answered, trying to speak proudly, and yet feeling,
+all of a sudden, quite inclined to cry.
+
+"Yes, of course, you're grown up," responded Sir John, and then his wife
+introduced the strange gentleman to me. His name was Captain Carbury,
+but when the Carringtons spoke to him they addressed him as "Vernon." He
+had a nice, frank manner, and it was he who was deputed to take me into
+the next room to lunch.
+
+"I have heard a lot about you," he said. "The Carringtons have been
+quite keen about you. They've been wondering what day you would arrive,
+and making up all sorts of stories about what you'd look like, and your
+life in the past and what your life in the future will be."
+
+"Heather, you must not mind Vernon, he always talks nonsense," said Lady
+Carrington. "Will you have clear or thick soup, dear? We always help
+ourselves at lunch, it makes the meal so much less formal."
+
+I said I would have thick soup, and Captain Carbury took clear. He
+looked at me again once or twice, and I thought that his expression was
+somewhat quizzical, but, all the same, I liked him.
+
+I had made in the course of my life a little gallery of heroes; they
+were of all sorts and descriptions. In that gallery my father held the
+foremost place, he was the soldier _par excellence_, the hero above all
+other heroes. Then there were splendid persons whose names were
+mentioned in history. The great Duke of Marlborough was one, and Sir
+Walter Raleigh, and King Edward the First, and King Henry the Fourth.
+And there were minor lights, great men, too, in their way, statesmen and
+ambassadors and discoverers of new worlds. But besides the historical
+personages, there were those few whom I knew personally. Amongst these
+was one of the many "Jonases" who had lived with Aunt Penelope, and who
+was admitted into a somewhat dark and shadowy part of my gallery.
+
+He was a very ugly Jonas, and slightly--quite slightly--deformed; that
+is, one shoulder was hitched up a good bit higher than the other. In
+consequence, he never felt happy or comfortable in buttons, and used to
+coax me to let him play with me in the garden in the dress he wore at
+home, which was loose and unwieldy, but, nevertheless, fitted that
+misshapen, poor shoulder. Aunt Penelope had been very angry with him for
+not appearing in his buttons costume, and she was not the least
+concerned when he told her that it made his shoulder ache; she was more
+determined than ever that he should wear his livery, and never be seen
+out of it while in her employ. He told me, that poor Buttons, that he
+would have to wear it, notwithstanding the pain, for the very little
+money he earned helped his mother at home. It was after he said this,
+and after I found out that what he said was true, that I put him into my
+gallery of heroes. He never knew that he was there. He became ill quite
+suddenly of some sort of inflammation of the spine, and was taken away
+to the hospital to die. I wanted very badly to see him when I heard he
+was so ill, but Aunt Penelope would not hear of it. Then I gave her a
+message for him.
+
+"Tell him, if you are going yourself," I said, "that he is in my gallery
+of heroes. He will know what it means."
+
+But Aunt Penelope forgot to give the message, so that poor Jonas never
+knew.
+
+But I had other heroes also. There was a pale young curate, like the
+celebrated curate in the song, and my heart went out to him--my girlish
+heart--in full measure, and I put him into my gallery right away; there
+I gave him a foremost place, although I never spoke to him in my young
+life, and I don't think, as far as I remember, that his eyes ever met
+mine.
+
+And now last, but by no means least, I put Captain Carbury into my
+gallery of heroes, and as I did so I felt my heart beating with
+pleasure, and I looked full up into my hero's face and smiled at him
+with such a look of contentment, admiration, and satisfaction that he
+smiled back again.
+
+"What a nice child you are," he said. "I wonder what you are thinking
+about?"
+
+Some visitors had now come in and had joined Sir John and Lady
+Carrington in the drawing-room, and Captain Carbury and I were alone.
+
+"You ought to be very proud," I said, lowering my voice to meet his.
+
+"What about?" he asked.
+
+"Why, this," I answered; "I have done you a tremendous honour."
+
+"Have you, indeed? I can assure you I am pleased and--quite flattered.
+But do tell me what it is."
+
+"I have just put you, Captain Carbury, into my gallery of heroes."
+
+"You have put me into what?" said the young man. He sat down by my side
+and lowered his voice. "You have put me into what, Miss Grayson?"
+
+"I have a gallery," I said, "and it is full of heroes. It, of course,
+lives in my imagination. You have just gone in; those who go in never
+come out again. There are a great many people in my gallery."
+
+"Oh, but I say, this is interesting, and quite fascinating. Please tell
+me who else holds that place of vantage."
+
+I mentioned the Duke of Marlborough and Sir Walter Raleigh and a few of
+the heroes of old, but I said nothing about father, nor about the pale
+curate, although I did mention Jonas.
+
+"Who is Jonas?" asked Captain Carbury.
+
+"Jonas is no longer in this world. When he was here he was a very great
+hero."
+
+"But what was he? Army, navy, church, or what?"
+
+"Oh, nothing of the sort," I answered; "he was only our Buttons, and he
+had one shoulder much higher than the other. I put him in because he
+bore the pain of his livery so bravely. You see, he had to wear his
+livery, or Aunt Penelope would have dismissed him. He wore it because he
+wanted the money to help his mother. I call him a real hero--don't you?"
+
+"I do. And what have I done, may I ask, to be such a privileged
+person?"
+
+"You haven't done much yet," I answered, "but I think you can do a great
+deal. For instance, if there was a big war against England, I think
+you'd fight and probably get your V.C."
+
+"Bless you, child, you talk very nicely. Do you know, I have never met a
+little girl who talked like this before. I hope we shall see much more
+of each other, Miss Grayson."
+
+"I hope we shall," I answered.
+
+"I come here a good deal," continued Captain Carbury. "I am a sort of
+cousin of Lady Carrington's, and she always treats me as though I were
+her son. There are no people in the world like the Carringtons. By the
+way, you must be excited, coming up to town just in time for your----"
+
+"In time for what?" I asked.
+
+"Is it possible you don't know?" he said. And he looked full at me with
+his dark and serious eyes. Just then Lady Carrington came up.
+
+"I am going to take Heather away now for a little time," she said.
+"Thank you so much, Vernon, for trying to entertain her. We will expect
+you to dinner this evening--no, I'm afraid Heather won't be here; she
+will be much occupied for the next few days."
+
+"Well, good-bye, Miss Heather, and thank you so much for putting me into
+the gallery," said the Captain, and then he left the room.
+
+"He is a very nice man," I said, when he had gone and I was back in the
+drawing-room. "Do you know many men as nice as Captain Carbury, Lady
+Carrington?"
+
+"No, I do not," said Lady Carrington, not laughing at my remark, as some
+women would have done, but pondering over it. "He is one of the
+best--that is all I can say about him."
+
+I looked across the room. The visitors had gone; Sir John had taken his
+leave; Captain Carbury was no longer there.
+
+"I want to ask you a question," I said, looking full up into Lady
+Carrington's face. "Captain Carbury said something to me."
+
+"Yes, dear child. What?"
+
+"He supposed I was glad or excited or something, at being in time
+for--and then he stopped. Please, Lady Carrington--I see you know it by
+your eyes--what is it I am in time for?"
+
+"I was going to speak to you about that," said Lady Carrington, with
+extreme gravity.
+
+"Please do," I said.
+
+She took my hand and pressed it between both her own.
+
+"Sir John and I," she said, "have never been blessed with a little
+daughter of our very own, so we want you, as much as your father and
+mother can spare you, to come and be with us. We want you morning, noon,
+and night--any day or any hour."
+
+"My father and _mother_!" I said, raising my voice to a shriek. "Lady
+Carrington, who are you talking about?"
+
+"Of course, dear, she will be only your stepmother."
+
+"Whom do you mean?" I asked. "Please say it out quickly. Is father going
+to marry? No, it can't be--it shan't be! What is it, please, Lady
+Carrington--please say it quickly?"
+
+"For many reasons I am sorry, Heather, but we must make the best of
+things in this world, dear, not the worst. Your father is to be married
+on Monday next to Lady Helen Dalrymple."
+
+I sat perfectly still after she had spoken. Her news came on me like a
+mighty shock--I felt quite stunned and cold. At first, too, I did not
+realise any pain. Then, quickly, and, as it seemed to me, through every
+avenue in my body at the same moment, pain rushed in--it filled my heart
+almost to the bursting point. It turned sweetness into bitterness and
+sunshine into despair. Father! Father! Father! Had I not waited for him,
+all during the long years? And now!
+
+I felt so distracted that I could not keep still. I stood up and faced
+Lady Carrington; she put out her hand to touch me--I pushed her hand
+away. I began to pace up and down the floor. After a few minutes Lady
+Carrington followed me. Then I turned to her, almost like a little
+savage. I said:
+
+"Is there anywhere in this big, grand, horrid house where I can be quite
+alone?"
+
+"Yes, Heather, you shall be quite alone in my bedroom," said Lady
+Carrington.
+
+I had no manners at that moment, no sense of civility.
+
+"I know the way to your bedroom," I said. I dashed upstairs without
+waiting for her to lead me; I rushed into the room, I turned the key in
+the lock, and then I flung myself on the floor. I was alone, thank God
+for that! How I beat out my own terrible suffering, how I fought and
+fought and fought with the demon who rent me, I can never describe to
+any mortal. No tears came to my relief. After a time I sat up. I had so
+far recovered my self-possession that I could at least remain quiet. I
+went stealthily towards the big looking-glass; I saw my reflection in
+it, my little pale face, my dark hair in its orderly curls--those curls
+which even my tempest of grief could scarcely disarrange, my neat,
+snuff-coloured brown dress--so old-fashioned and therefore none so
+beloved. That morning I had gone shopping with _her_--I had allowed her
+to buy me dresses on dresses, and hats and toques, and muffs, and
+gloves, and shoes--oh! I would not touch one of her things! I felt at
+that moment that I could have killed her! To be torn from father, to
+find him again and then to lose him, that was the crudest stroke of all!
+
+I looked at my wan face in the glass and hoped that I should die soon;
+that was the only thing left to wish for--to live in such a way that I
+should die soon. I thought that I might effect this by a course of
+starvation. I would begin at once. To-day was Thursday--if I ate nothing
+at all from the present moment until Monday, there was a good chance of
+my dying on Monday. That would be the best plan.
+
+There came a tap at the room door.
+
+"It is I, dear," said Lady Carrington.
+
+I even hated kind Lady Carrington at that moment. Had she not given me
+the news? I went unwillingly and slowly towards the door. I unlocked it
+and she entered.
+
+"That is right," she said, looking at me and suppressing, as she told me
+afterwards, a shocked exclamation, "you are calmer now, darling."
+
+"I cannot speak of it," I said.
+
+"Dear child, no one wants you to; and I have been arranging with your
+father that you are to stay with me for the present."
+
+"Oh, I don't want that," I said, a great lump rising in my throat; "I
+want to be with him while I can have him. There is only between
+now--this Thursday--until Monday. I'd like to be with him for that
+little time."
+
+"But you won't, dear Heather. He will be occupied almost entirely with
+Lady Helen Dalrymple."
+
+"Then it doesn't matter," I said. "Did you say they were downstairs,
+Lady Carrington?"
+
+"Yes; they are in the drawing-room; they are waiting for you. They asked
+me to break it to you, and I did my best."
+
+"I am quite ready to--to see them," I said.
+
+When we reached the drawing-room a servant flung open the door. Lady
+Carrington went first and I followed.
+
+My father was standing with his profile towards me; he was looking at a
+newspaper, and I think, just for a second, he was rather shy, although I
+could not be sure. Lady Helen, however, made up for any awkwardness on
+his part. She rushed at me and clasped me in her arms.
+
+"Dear little daughter!" she said. "Now you know everything; in future
+you will be my own little daughter. Think what a splendid time we'll
+have together! Why, I'll take you everywhere--you won't know yourself.
+Just tell her, Gordon, what a right good time she'll have with me."
+
+"Jove! I should think so," said my father.
+
+I struggled out of her arms. If I had remained in that hateful embrace
+for another moment I might have slapped her. I flung myself on father's
+neck, and kissed him many times, and then, all of a sudden, I began to
+whisper in his ear.
+
+"Eh, eh? What, what?" he said. "Child, you're tickling me. Oh, you want
+to speak to me alone! Helen, you won't mind?"
+
+"No, dear, I won't mind."
+
+Lady Helen looked at me out of those strange dark eyes of hers. Her face
+was brimming all over with good humour, but I know she was not pleased
+with me at that moment. I had repulsed her advances, and now I was
+taking father away.
+
+"Here is a little room," said Lady Carrington, "you can both have it to
+yourselves."
+
+She opened a door, and father and I entered. The moment we were alone I
+ceased to whisper and stood before father, just a little way off, but at
+the same time so close that he could see me well.
+
+"I have heard the news, Dad," I said.
+
+"Well, and isn't it just rippin'?" he said. "Don't you congratulate
+me--I, a poor beggar--to get a wife like that, and you--a mother like
+that!"
+
+"She will never be my mother, father, if you marry her a hundred times."
+
+"Come, come, that is so _bourgeoise_, that kind of speech is so
+completely out of date; but Helen will explain to you. Now, what is it
+you want, little Heather? I'm sure Helen has spent enough money on your
+little person to satisfy you for one morning."
+
+"Was it her own money she spent?" I asked.
+
+"Gracious, child!" cried my father. "What other money could she spend?"
+
+"Why, yours--I thought it was yours," I said, with a sob.
+
+"Mine!" he said. "I haven't a stiver in the world to bless myself with.
+But there, I am a rich man for all that. Helen is rich, and what is hers
+is mine, and she's going to do the right thing by you, Heather--the
+right thing by you."
+
+"Daddy," I said, very slowly, "I waited for you during all the years
+while I was growing up, and yesterday I found you again--or rather, I
+ought to say a few days ago, when you came to see me at Hill View, and
+now again I have lost you."
+
+"_Bourgeoise, bourgeoise_," muttered my father; "those words are
+Penelope's words. She'd be sure to speak to you like that."
+
+"Lady Carrington has asked me to stay here, and I should like to do it,"
+I replied; "I am not going to wear any of the clothes _she_ bought--no,
+not one, not one! But if you would come to see me to-morrow evening,
+perhaps we might have one long, last chat together. That is what I
+really wanted to ask you. Will you promise me, Dad?"
+
+"Dear me, how afflicting!" said my father. "How afflicting and
+sentimental and unnecessary--and after all I have lived through! I
+didn't know you'd grow up that sort of child; you were such a jolly
+little thing when I took you down to your aunt. It's your aunt who has
+spoilt you. You can stay here, of course, if you prefer this house to
+the Westminster. Helen won't like it; she has got a box for us at the
+opera to-night."
+
+"I can't go," I said.
+
+"Very well. She would hate to see a dismal child, and your clothes won't
+be ready for a day or two--at least, most of them--so perhaps you had
+better stay here. I'll just go and speak to Lady Carrington."
+
+Father left the room. By and by Lady Carrington came back alone.
+
+"They've gone, dear," she said, "and I have made arrangements with Major
+Grayson that you are to stay with us during the honeymoon, so that
+altogether you will be with us for quite a month, my child. Now, during
+that month I want you to be happy and to make the best of things. Do you
+hear me?"
+
+"Yes. I think I shall be happy with you. But oh! I have got a blow--I
+have got a blow!" I said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Father did not come to see me on Saturday night, although I hoped
+against hope that he would do so, but, to my great surprise, on Sunday
+evening he walked in, just as Lady Carrington was preparing to go out to
+evening service. I had refused to accompany her--I am afraid I made
+myself unpleasant to my kind friend on that occasion. I was overcome by
+the shock I had received, and this fresh and most unexpected parting
+from father, so that I could only centre my thoughts on myself.
+
+Father bustled into the house, and I heard his cheerful voice in the
+hall.
+
+"Hallo!" he said. "And how is the little woman?"
+
+Lady Carrington dropped her voice to a whisper, and father began to talk
+in low tones. Then they both approached the room where I was lying on a
+sofa by the fire. I was feeling cold and chilled, and the little colour
+I had ever boasted of in my face had completely left me. Now, as I heard
+steps coming nearer and nearer, my heart beat in a most tumultuous
+fashion. Then father and Lady Carrington entered the room.
+
+"Heather, here's your father," said my kindest friend. "Sir John and I
+are going to church, so you will have him quite to yourself. Now, cheer
+up, dear. By the way, Major Grayson, won't you stay and have supper with
+us afterwards?"
+
+"Will Carbury be here?" asked my father suddenly.
+
+"Yes, I think so. We asked him to come."
+
+"Then I'd better not--better not, you know." He exchanged glances with
+Lady Carrington, and I noticed a delicate wave of colour filling her
+smooth and still girlish cheeks. She went away the next moment, and left
+father and me alone.
+
+"Well, pussy cat," he said, looking down at me, "what is the meaning of
+all this rebellion? I didn't know you were such a queer little girl."
+
+"Oh, father!" I said.
+
+"Well, here is father. What does the little one want him to do?"
+
+"Pet me, pet me, pet me," I said, and I gave a great sob between each
+word.
+
+"Why, Heather, you are as great a baby as ever! Lady Helen says you are
+the most babyish creature she has ever come across in her life. My word,
+Heather, if you but knew it, you are in luck to have such a stepmother.
+I tell you, my child, you are in wonderful luck, for she is downright
+splendid!"
+
+"Please--please--may I say something?" My voice shook violently.
+
+"Of course you may, little mite."
+
+"Don't let us talk of her to-night. I'll try very hard to be good
+to-morrow, if you will promise not to speak of her once to-night."
+
+"It's hard on me, for my thoughts are full of her, but I'll endeavour to
+obey your small Majesty."
+
+Then I sprang into his arms, and cuddled him round the neck, and kissed
+his cheek over and over again.
+
+"Oh, I am so hungry for your love!" I said.
+
+"Poor mite! You will have two people to love instead--oh! I
+forgot--'mum's' the word. Now then, Heather, let's look at you. Why,
+you're a washed-out little ghost of a girl! Even Aunt Penelope would be
+shocked if she saw you now."
+
+"Never mind Aunt Penelope just for the present," I said. "I have so
+much to say to you, and this is the very last evening."
+
+"Not a bit of it; there are hundreds of other evenings to follow."
+
+"Oh, no," I said; "this is the very last between you and me, quite to
+ourselves, Daddy."
+
+"I like to hear you say 'Daddy'--you have such a quaint little voice. Do
+you know, Heather, that when I was--when I was--"
+
+"When you were what, Daddy?"
+
+"Never mind; I was forgetting myself. I have lived through a great deal
+since you last saw me, child, since that time when you were so ill at
+Penelope Despard's."
+
+"Weren't you enjoying yourself during those long years in India, Daddy?"
+
+"Enjoying myself? Bless you, the discipline was too severe." Here my
+father burst out laughing, and then he unfastened my arms from his neck
+and put me gently down on the sofa and began to pace the room.
+
+"As a wild beast enjoys himself in a cage, so did I, little Heather; but
+it's over, thank Heaven, it's over; and--oh, dash it!--I can't speak of
+it! Heather, how do you like your new clothes?"
+
+"I haven't any new clothes," I answered demurely, "except the little
+black frock you gave me the night I came to you at the Westminster
+hotel. I put that on every evening because Lady Carrington wears
+something pretty at dinner-time."
+
+"But what have you done with all your other clothes?"
+
+"I told you, Daddy, I wouldn't wear them. _She_ gave them to me."
+
+"Now, look here, Heather, once and for all you must stop this folly. I
+presume you don't want me to cease to love you. Well, you've got to be
+good to your stepmother, and you have got to accept the clothes she
+gives you. She and I are taking a beautiful house in a fashionable part
+of London and you are to live with us, and she will be nice to you if
+you will be nice to her--not otherwise, you understand--by no means
+otherwise. And if I see you nasty to her, or putting on airs, why, I'll
+give you up. You'll have to take her if you want to keep me, and that's
+the long and short of it."
+
+I trembled all over; my hero of heroes--was he tumbling from his place
+in my gallery?
+
+"Promise, child, promise," said my father, brusquely.
+
+"Will it make you happy if I do?" I said.
+
+"Yes. I'll call you my little duck of all girls--I'll love you like
+anything, but we three must be harmonious. You will stay here until we
+come back, and on the day we come back you are to be in the new house to
+meet us, and you are to wear one of your pretty frocks, and you are to
+do just what _she_ says. It's your own fault, Heather, that I have to
+bring in her name so often. Bless her, though, the jewel she is! My
+little love, we'll be as happy as the day is long. It's terribly
+old-fashioned, it's low down, to abuse stepmothers now--don't you
+understand that, Heather?"
+
+"I don't," I answered. "I suppose I must do what you wish, for I cannot
+live without you, but if--if--I find it _quite_ past bearing--may I go
+back to Aunt Penelope?"
+
+"Bless me, you won't find it past bearing! We need not contemplate such
+an emergency."
+
+"But, promise me, Daddy darling--if I do find it past bearing, may I go
+back to Aunt Penelope?"
+
+"Oh, yes, yes, yes--anything to quiet you, child. You are just the most
+fractious and selfish creature I ever came across. You don't seem to
+realise for a single minute what anybody else is feeling."
+
+"It's settled, and I will try to be happy," I said.
+
+"That's right. Now, let's talk of all sorts of funny things. I haven't
+half heard about your different Jonases, nor about the parrot, who would
+only say, 'Stop knocking at the door!'"
+
+"Daddy," I said, with great earnestness, "may I have Anastasia back? It
+would give me great, great help if she came back."
+
+"Bless me!" said my father, rubbing his red face, "I must ask her
+ladyship. I'll see about it; I'll see about it, little woman. Now, then,
+stand up and let me look at you."
+
+I stood up. I was wearing my snuff-coloured dress, and the electric
+light and the firelight mingled, fell over a desolate, forlorn, little
+figure.
+
+"Run upstairs this minute, Heather, and put on one of your pretty
+frocks. I know for a certainty they haven't gone back, because I told
+Lady Carrington she was to keep them. Find a servant who can tell you
+where they are, and put one on, and come down and let me see you in it."
+
+He smiled at me. Surely there never was anyone with such a bewitching
+smile. You felt that you would cut your heart out to help him when he
+gave you that smile, that you would lie down at his feet to be trampled
+on when he looked at you with that expression in his bright blue eyes.
+
+I went upstairs very slowly. Lady Carrington's maid happened to be in,
+and I said to her, in a forlorn voice:
+
+"I want one of my pretty new frocks. May I have it?"
+
+The woman gave me a lightning glance of approval, and presently I was
+dressed in softest, palest, shimmering grey, which fell in long folds
+around my young person. I held it up daintily, and ran downstairs.
+
+"There's my rose in June!" said father, and he came and took me in his
+arms. He chatted in his old fashion after that, but he went away before
+Lady Carrington returned from church. She came back, accompanied by
+Captain Carbury. I was in the drawing-room then, and there was plenty of
+colour in my cheeks, for father's visit had excited me a great deal.
+Captain Carbury gave me a wistful glance and drew a chair near mine.
+
+"Do you know what I was thinking of?" he said, suddenly.
+
+"What?" I asked.
+
+"That it would be very nice after the wedding to-morrow----"
+
+I shivered, and clutched my chair to keep myself from falling. I felt
+his dark eyes fixed on my face.
+
+"After the ceremony to-morrow," he continued, "if you and Lady
+Carrington and I went to Hampton Court to spend the day. We will go down
+in my motor-car, come back afterwards and dine in town, and then go to
+the theatre. What do you think? I know Lady Carrington is quite
+agreeable."
+
+"Do you want me to go, Captain Carbury?"
+
+"Yes, I want you very much."
+
+"Well, I will do it, if it pleases you," I said.
+
+He looked steadily at me, then he bent forward--he dropped his voice.
+
+"I, too, have a gallery," he said, "in which I place, not my famous
+heroes, but my famous heroines, and just at this moment, when you gave
+up your real will to mine and--forgot yourself--I put you in."
+
+"Oh, thank you," I said, and my eyes brimmed with tears.
+
+Captain Carbury went away early, and after he had gone Lady Carrington
+sat down by my side and began to talk to me.
+
+"You and he are famous friends," she said, "and I am so glad. Perhaps I
+ought to tell you, however, that Vernon is engaged to a most charming
+girl. I know he will want you to meet her--they are to be married next
+summer."
+
+"Oh, I hope she is good enough for him."
+
+"I hope so also. Her name is Lady Dorothy Vinguard. She is beautiful
+and--and rich--and her people live in a lovely place in Surrey."
+
+Suddenly a memory flashed through my mind.
+
+I asked a question:
+
+"Why did father say he would not meet Captain Carbury to-night at
+supper?" I said.
+
+Lady Carrington coloured. She got up and poked the fire quite
+vigorously.
+
+"Why are you getting so red?" I said. "Why would not father meet him?"
+
+"You see, he is an army man," answered Lady Carrington.
+
+"But that has nothing to do with it," I replied. "Father's in the army,
+too."
+
+"Don't ask so many questions, Heather."
+
+"Has father a reason for not wanting to see him?"
+
+"He may have, dear, but if he has I cannot tell you."
+
+"That means you won't," I replied.
+
+"Very well--I won't."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Lady Carrington and I went to St. Margaret's, Westminster, to see my
+father married to Lady Helen Dalrymple. I had never witnessed a marriage
+ceremony before, and thought it a very dull and dreary affair. My ideas
+with regard to a bride had always been that she must be exceedingly
+young and very beautiful, and now, when I saw Lady Helen, all drooping
+and fragile, and in my opinion quite old, not even her beautiful Honiton
+lace veil, nor her exquisite dress of some shimmering material, appealed
+to me in the very least. It was with difficulty I could keep the tears
+out of my eyes by fixing them firmly on the back of my father's head. I
+noticed again how bald he was getting, but then his shoulders were very
+broad, and he did not stoop in the least, and he had a splendid manly
+sort of air. As I listened to the marriage service, I could not help
+thinking of that other time, ages ago in his life, when he took my young
+mother to wife, my mother who had died when I was a baby. He was young
+then, and so was the bride--oh, I had no sympathy with his second
+marriage!
+
+Lady Carrington insisted on my wearing a white dress, and when the
+ceremony was over, we all went to the Westminster hotel, where there
+were light refreshments, and tea and coffee, and champagne, which I
+hated, and would only take in the smallest sips. By and by, Lady Helen
+went upstairs to change her dress. She came down again in a magnificent
+"creation"--for that was the word I heard the ladies around me
+describing it by--and a huge picture hat on her head. She kissed me once
+or twice at the very last moment, and told me to be a good child. I
+hated kisses as much as I hated her, but father, dear father, made up
+for everything. He caught me in his arms and squeezed me tightly to his
+breast, and said: "God for ever bless you, dear little woman!" and then
+they went away, and Lady Carrington and I gazed at each other.
+
+"Now, my dear Heather," she said cheerfully, "we are going to motor back
+to my house in order to change our dresses, so as to be in time for
+Captain Carbury when he brings his car round for us. You remember, dear,
+that we are going to Hampton Court to-day, and we haven't a minute to
+spare."
+
+"Oh, not a minute," I replied, and I tried to feel cheered up and
+excited.
+
+After a time Captain Carbury made his appearance, and if I had no other
+reason for wishing to behave bravely just then, I would not for the
+world show cowardice before the man who had put me into his gallery of
+heroines.
+
+We motored down to Hampton Court, and the Captain proved himself to be a
+very merry guide, so much so that I found myself laughing in spite of my
+sorrow, and whenever I did so Lady Carrington gave me an approving
+smile.
+
+"I have been telling Heather about you and Dorothy, Vernon," she said,
+after we had been all over the old palace, and found ourselves having
+tea at one of the hotels which faced the river.
+
+Captain Carbury gave me a quick glance, a little puzzled, a little sad,
+a sort of glance which amazed me at the time, and the meaning of which I
+was not to understand until afterwards.
+
+"You must get to know Dorothy some day," he said. "I have her picture
+here"--he tapped his watch-pocket--"I will show it you by and by."
+
+As he said this, he looked full into my eyes, and I noticed more than
+ever the sad expression in his. I wondered at this, and then my thoughts
+wandered to Lady Dorothy Vinguard. What sort of a girl was she? Was she
+nice enough to marry the man who occupied a place in my gallery of
+heroes?
+
+I spent a fairly happy fortnight with Lady Carrington. She was kindness
+itself to me, and she gave me a great deal of valuable advice. She took
+me to see many interesting sights, and Captain Carbury came to the house
+almost every day. One day he brought Lady Dorothy to see me. I was
+seated in the inner drawing-room when a tall, very pale, slender girl,
+most beautifully dressed, entered the room. Her face was exactly like
+that of a waxen doll; it had not a scrap of expression in it, neither
+was it in the very least disagreeable. My first impression when I looked
+at her was that she wanted intelligence, but then I changed my mind, for
+her light-blue eyes were peculiarly watchful, and she kept looking and
+looking at me, as though she would read me through. It was impossible to
+tell whether Captain Carbury was devoted to her or not; she ordered him
+about a good deal, and he obeyed her slightest behests. She kept all the
+conversation to herself, too, and neither he nor I could edge in a
+word. I never met anyone who talked so fast, and yet who seemed to say
+nothing at all. Each subject she began to speak about she changed for
+another before we had begun even to think of what we meant to reply.
+Thus her conversation gave me at last a feeling of intense fatigue, and
+I wondered how a really clever and earnest-minded man like Captain
+Carbury could endure the thought of spending his life with her.
+
+He went out of the room after a time, and then she told me, with a great
+yawn, that he was a perfect lover, and that she herself was intensely
+happy.
+
+"You, of course, will fall in love and get engaged some day," she said.
+"You are rather good-looking, in the old-world style; personally, I
+admire the up to date sort of beauty myself, and so, I know, does
+Vernon. He hates the people who are, as he expresses it, 'all fire and
+flash in the pan.' That is, I am sure, how he would describe you, if he
+troubled himself to describe you at all."
+
+"I don't think he would," I said, turning very red. I longed to tell
+this haughty girl that I was in his gallery of heroines, but I felt
+instinctively that such a piece of information would only make her
+jealous, and therefore I refrained.
+
+By and by Captain Carbury returned, and they both went away. She
+certainly was very dainty. She was like a piece of exquisite china, and,
+as I said afterwards to Lady Carrington, when she wanted to get my
+opinion with regard to her:
+
+"I felt almost afraid to look at her, for fear she should break."
+
+Lady Carrington laughed at my description, and said she did not know
+that I was such a keen observer of character.
+
+This was my very last day with my kindest of friends, for on the next I
+was to go to Lady Helen's house in Hanbury Square. I knew nothing
+whatever with regard to this part of London, nor where the smartest
+houses were, nor where the "classy people," as they called themselves,
+resided, but Lady Carrington informed me that Hanbury Square was in the
+very heart of the fashionable world, and that Lady Helen's house was one
+of the largest and handsomest in the whole square.
+
+"But why is it called Lady Helen's house?" I asked. "Surely it is my
+father's."
+
+"Of course it is," she replied, and she looked a little grave, just as
+though she were holding something back. How often I had seen that look
+in her face--and how often, how very often, had it puzzled me, and how
+completely I had failed to understand it. I did love Lady Carrington;
+she was good to me, and when I bade her good-bye the next morning the
+tears filled my eyes.
+
+"Now understand, Heather," she said, "that whenever you want me I am at
+your service. A new life is opening before you, my child, but I shall,
+of course, be your friend, for your dead mother's sake, and for----"
+
+"Yes, yes?" I cried. "Say the rest, say the rest!"
+
+"And, little Heather, for the memory of what your father was."
+
+"I don't understand you," I said; "you hint and hint things against my
+own darling father--oh! don't do it again! Speak out if you must, but
+don't hint things ever again!"
+
+"Think nothing of my words," said Lady Carrington; "forget that they
+were uttered. Don't turn against me, little Heather; you may need my
+friendship."
+
+I was, indeed, to need that friendship, and right soon. But I felt
+almost angry with Lady Carrington as I drove away.
+
+Certainly the house in Hanbury Square was very smart; it had all been
+newly got-up, in preparation for the bride. There was new paint outside,
+and new paint and beautiful wainscots and soft papers within, and there
+were flower-boxes at every window, and the floors were covered with
+heavy-piled carpets, and there were knick-knacks and flowers and very
+costly furniture greeting one at each turn. It was a big house, in short
+a mansion, with front stairs and back stairs, and rooms innumerable. A
+very lovely room had been set aside for me. It was called the
+"Forget-me-not" room, and was on the first floor. I had a bathroom, with
+hot and cold water laid on, quite to myself; I also had a dressing-room,
+with a wonderful toilet table and wash-hand stand and appliances for the
+toilet. And in my bedroom was a great wardrobe made of walnut wood, and
+the beautiful little bed had lace-trimmed pillow-slips and sheets. Until
+I entered this room I had never even imagined such luxury.
+
+A very neat, quiet-looking girl, who told me her name was Morris, met me
+on the threshold of my room.
+
+"I am your special maid, miss," she said. "Lady Helen said I was to do
+everything in my power to help you."
+
+"But you are not Anastasia," I replied.
+
+The girl started back, and stared at me.
+
+"Who is Anastasia, miss?" she asked, after a minute's pause.
+
+"Oh," I answered, "Anastasia is my dear old nurse; she brought me home
+from India years and years ago, and afterwards I lost her. I want father
+to find her again for me, for I really wish her to be my maid."
+
+"You will perhaps speak to my mistress, miss," replied Morris, in a
+demure voice.
+
+"Why so?" I asked. "I shall speak to my father, Major Grayson."
+
+The girl made no answer, but I noticed that a smile, a peculiar smile,
+lingered round her lips.
+
+"Perhaps, miss," she said, after a pause, "I had best begin to unpack
+your trunks, for her ladyship and the Major may be here by tea time,
+and, of course, you will like to be ready to meet them, and you'd wish
+me to arrange your hair, and help you on with your afternoon frock
+before they come."
+
+I took some keys out of a little bag I wore at my side.
+
+"Do as you please," I said.
+
+I sat on a low chair and watched her. Then I said, suddenly:
+
+"I am horribly sick of dress!"
+
+"Oh, miss!" remarked Morris, raising her placid face to mine, for she
+was on her knees by this time, unfastening my largest trunk, "I did
+think that young ladies lived for their dress."
+
+"Well, I am not one of those young ladies," was my reply. "I never
+thought of dress until a few weeks ago. I used to put on the dress I was
+to wear when I first got up in the morning, and I never thought of it
+again until I took it off to go to bed."
+
+"You must have lived in a very quiet way, miss."
+
+"I lived in a sensible way," I replied.
+
+"I should not like it for myself, miss."
+
+"Perhaps not, perhaps you are vain--I can't bear vain people."
+
+The girl coloured, and bent again over the trunk. I rested my elbows on
+my knees, pressed my hands against my cheeks, and stared at her.
+
+"I don't wish to offend you, Morris," I said; "I want us two to be
+friends."
+
+"Thank you, miss."
+
+"But I do wish to say," I continued, "that I consider it awfully
+frivolous to have to put on a special dress for morning, and another
+dress for afternoon, and yet another dress, just when tea comes in, and
+another dress for dinner. Privately, I think it quite wicked, and I am
+sure you must agree with me."
+
+"It is what's done in society, miss," answered the girl. "They all do
+like that, those who move in the best society."
+
+She began to unpack rapidly, and I watched her. I reflected within
+myself that I had left Hill View with no clothes except the ones I was
+wearing, and what were contained in my tiny trunks. Now I had several
+big trunks, and they were crammed, pressed full, with the newest and
+most wonderful dresses; and besides the dresses there were mantles, and
+coats, and opera cloaks, and all sorts of the most exquisite, the most
+perfect underclothing in the world. Morris was a quick lady's maid; she
+evidently understood her duties thoroughly well. She had soon unpacked
+my trunks, and then she suggested that I should wear a dress of the
+palest, most heavenly blue, in order to greet her ladyship and Major
+Grayson. I said, "Is it necessary?" and she replied, "Certainly it is,"
+and after that I submitted to her manipulations. She helped me into my
+dress, arranged my hair in a simple and very becoming manner, and then
+she looked at me critically.
+
+"Am I all right now?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, miss, I think you will do beautifully."
+
+I thanked her, and ran downstairs. There were three, or even four
+drawing-rooms to the house, each one opening into the other. I chose the
+smallest drawing-room, ensconced myself in an easy-chair, and tried to
+imagine that I was about to enjoy everything; but my heart was beating
+horribly, and I came to the conclusion that every one of the four
+drawing-rooms was hideous. They were not the least like the reception
+rooms at Lady Carrington's. There the furniture was rich, and yet
+simple; there was no sense of overcrowding, the tables were not laden
+with knick-knacks, and there were comparatively few chairs and lounges,
+only just enough for people to use. The walls were undecorated, except
+by one or two pictures, the works of masters. There were not more than
+two pictures in each room, for Lady Carrington had assured me that
+pictures were the richest ornaments of all, and I fully agreed with her.
+Now these rooms were totally different--the chairs, the tables, the
+sofas, the lounges, the grand piano, the little piano, the harpsichord,
+the spinning-wheel, the pianola, gave one a sense of downright
+oppression. The walls were laden with pictures of every sort and
+description--some of them I did not admire in the very least; and there
+was old china and old glass, very beautiful, I had little doubt, but to
+me extremely inharmonious. I discovered soon that what these rooms
+needed was a sense of rest. There was not a single spot where the eye
+could remain quiet; wherever one looked one felt inclined to start and
+exclaim, and jump up and examine. I came to the conclusion that I
+preferred Aunt Penelope's very plain little drawing-room at home to
+this.
+
+By and by an exceedingly tall young man in smart blue livery threw open
+the folding doors, and another equally tall young man in the same livery
+entered with a silver tray. The man who first came into the room pulled
+out a table and placed the tray on it, and presently a third man
+appeared with quantities of food. The first man poked up the fire, the
+second acquainted me with the fact that tea was quite ready, and
+afterwards the three left the room, closing the door softly behind them.
+Their velvet tread oppressed me; I wanted the door to bang; I wanted
+to hear a good, loud, wholesome noise.
+
+Yes, I was at home in my father's house, but truth to tell, I had never
+felt less home-like in the whole course of my life. I poured myself out
+a cup of tea, and ate a morsel of bread and butter. Suddenly, before I
+had finished my first cup of tea, I heard quick sounds in the hall;
+there were footsteps, and several voices speaking together; people
+seemed to be rushing hither and thither, and I heard a staccato voice
+mingling with the tones of a deep one, a deep one that I knew and loved.
+Then the voices and the footsteps came nearer, until a big man and a
+lady entered the outer drawing-room and came straight into the little
+room where I was sitting. The man smiled all over his face, said,
+"Hallo, little woman!" caught me up in his arms and kissed me; the lady
+said coldly, "How do you do, child? Pour me out a cup of tea, and be
+quick; I am fainting with exhaustion. Gordon, will you go upstairs and
+take your great-coat off, and then come down and have tea like a
+Christian?"
+
+"Oh, but he must stay," I answered, for I was feeling his face and
+kissing him over and over, and rubbing my cheek against his.
+
+[Illustration: "'Oh, but he must stay,' I answered".]
+
+"Gordon, please go at once," said his wife.
+
+My hands were released, the blue eyes of Major Grayson looked full into
+mine. Certainly father's eyes were the most wonderful in all the world.
+They seemed to me to hold within their depths a mixture of every sort of
+emotion, of fun, of reluctant, half ashamed, half pleased, half boyish
+penitence, of sorrow, of a pathos which was always there and always half
+hidden, and also of a queer and indescribable nobility, which,
+notwithstanding the fact that I had not seen him for years, and
+notwithstanding the other fact that he had married a worldly woman when
+he might have made me so happy, seemed to have grown and strengthened on
+his face. He kissed one of his hands to me, raised Lady Helen's jewelled
+hand to his lips, bowed to her, smiled, and departed.
+
+"He has charming manners," she said, and then she turned to me.
+
+"Bring me food, child," she said; "I want you to wait on me to-day; I am
+tired; we had a very rough crossing. To-morrow I shall take you in hand,
+but you are tremendously improved already. Yes, your father has
+delightful manners--we shall win through yet; but it will be a battle."
+
+"What do you mean by 'winning through'?" I asked.
+
+"Nothing that you need interfere about," she answered, a little sharply;
+"only listen to me once for all. I am not Lady Helen Dalrymple for
+nothing, and when I stoop to conquer I do conquer. Now then, fetch me
+the cake basket; I am ravenously hungry and have a passion for
+chocolate."
+
+I gave her what she required, and she ate without looking at me, her
+sharp eyes wandering round and round the room.
+
+"Why, how hideous!" she suddenly exclaimed. "How more than wrong of
+Clarkson! I gave orders that the curtains in this room were to be
+rose-pink; those dull blue abominations must come down; we won't have
+them--they'd try anyone's complexion. Child, for goodness' sake don't
+stare! And yet, come and let me look at you. That blue dress suits you;
+but then you are young, and you have a complexion for blue."
+
+She patted my hand for a minute, then she yawned profoundly.
+
+"I am glad to be home," she said. "A honeymoon when you are no longer
+young is fatiguing, to say the least of it, and I am sick of hotel
+life. I have already sent out my 'At Home' invitations, and for the next
+few days the house will be crammed every afternoon. You will have to be
+present--why, of course, you will--don't knit your brows together like
+that. I mean to be a good stepmother to you, Heather. Ah, here comes
+Gordon. Gordon, you look very presentable now. Sit close to me on this
+sofa, and let Heather give you some tea. It's nice to have one's own
+girl to wait on one, isn't it?"
+
+"Profoundly nice," said the Major; "exquisitely nice. To think that we
+have a child of our very own, Helen!"
+
+"I don't think about it," replied Lady Helen. "It isn't my custom to
+wear myself out going into raptures, but, Gordon, I am very seriously
+displeased about those curtains."
+
+"Curtains, dear--what ails them? I see nothing wrong in them."
+
+"But I do. I told Clarkson's people rose-colour, soft rose-colour, and
+they sent blue--I will never get anything at Clarkson's again."
+
+"They must be changed, sweetest one," replied my father.
+
+I was giving him a cup of tea just then, and my hand shook. My
+stepmother noticed this; she said, in a sharp voice:
+
+"Heather, get me a fan; that fire will spoil my complexion."
+
+I fetched her one. She held it between herself and the fire.
+
+"By the way, Gordon," she said suddenly, "we had better tell the child
+now."
+
+"Oh, what?" I asked in some astonishment and also alarm.
+
+"Really, Heather, you need not give way to such undue excitement. A year
+of my training will completely change you. I only wished to mention the
+fact that your name is no longer Grayson; in future you are Heather
+Dalrymple. Your father and I have agreed that you both take my name;
+that is a thing often done when there is a question of money. I hold the
+purse strings. I am a very generous person as regards money; Major,
+dear, you can testify to that."
+
+"I can, Helen. There never was your like, you are wonderful."
+
+"You therefore are little Heather Dalrymple in future," continued my
+stepmother, "and your father and I are Major and Lady Helen Dalrymple.
+It's done, child, it's settled; the lawyers have arranged it all.
+Grayson is a frightful name; you ought to be truly thankful that it is
+in my power to change it for you. You need not even wait for your
+marriage; the change takes place at once."
+
+"But I prefer my own name," I answered. "I don't want to have your name.
+Father, please speak--father, I am not Heather Dalrymple!"
+
+"Oh, make no fuss about it, child," replied my father. "I have long ago
+come to the wise conclusion that nothing wears one out like making a
+fuss. Now, my dear, good, sweet, little Heather, I grieve to have to
+tell you that your disposition promises to land you in old age before
+your time. You fuss about everything. You fussed yourself almost into
+your grave when I was obliged to leave you with Penelope Despard, and
+yet how good poor old Pen was to you all the time! And then you were
+very impolite to your new mother when you heard that I was about to be
+married."
+
+"Oh, I am willing to forget and forgive all that," said Lady Helen. "The
+child was young and taken by surprise. We enter to-day a new world. I do
+my best for her; she must do her best for me. If you are a good girl,
+Heather, you will see what a happy life you will have as my daughter."
+
+"Please, please, father," I said, suddenly, "may I have Anastasia to be
+my maid? There is a girl upstairs who calls herself Morris, and she says
+she is my maid, but I really do want Anastasia back."
+
+"Ask her ladyship, and do it in a pretty way," said my father, and he
+gave my hand a playful pinch.
+
+"And this carpet," muttered Lady Helen. "I particularly said that the
+carpet was to be of a pale green, that sort of very soft green which
+sets off everything, and it is--goodness gracious!--it is a sort of pale
+blue, not even the tone of the curtains. How atrocious! Yes, Heather,
+yes--what is it?"
+
+"I do want to ask you, please," I said, "if Anastasia may come back?"
+
+"Anastasia?" said Lady Helen. "I have never heard of her. Who is she?"
+
+"She used to be my nurse when I was in India, and she sailed with father
+and me in the good ship _Pleiades_. Oh, father! don't you remember the
+charm you gave me, and how we talked of gentle gales and prosperous
+winds? And, father, here's the charm, the dear old charm!"
+
+"When you talk to me," said Lady Helen, "you will have the goodness to
+look at me. You want the woman--what did you say her name was?"
+
+"Anastasia. It's quite a nice name," I answered. "I want her to be my
+maid instead of Morris."
+
+"To be your maid?"
+
+"Please, please, Lady Helen."
+
+"Can she sew? Can she make blouses? Can she arrange hair fashionably?
+Can she put on your dress as it ought to be put on? I may as well say at
+once that I don't intend to take a pale, gawky girl about with me. You
+must look nice, as you can and will, if you have a proper maid, and I
+attend to your clothes. Can she alter your dresses when they get a
+little _outré_? In short, is the woman a lady's maid at all?"
+
+"She used to be my nurse, and I love her," I answered stoutly.
+
+"I cannot possibly have her back. Don't speak of it again. And now,
+Heather, I have something else to say. When you address me you are not
+to call me 'Lady Helen,' you are to say 'Mother.' The fact is, I can't
+stand sentimental nonsense. Your own mother has been in her grave for
+many years. If I am to act as a mother to you, I intend to have the
+title. Now say the word; say this--say, 'Please, mother, may I go
+upstairs to my private sitting-room, and may I leave you and father
+alone together?' Say the words, Heather."
+
+I turned very cold, and I have no doubt my face was white.
+
+"Yes, Heather, say the words," cried father.
+
+His blue eyes were extremely bright, and there was a spot of vivid
+colour on both his cheeks. He looked at me with such a world of longing,
+such an expression of almost fear, that for his sake I gave in.
+
+"I will do what you wish for my father's sake," I said, slowly. "I am
+not your child, and you are not my mother. My mother is in her grave,
+and when she lived her name was Grayson, not Dalrymple; but if it makes
+father happy for me to say 'mother,' I will say it."
+
+"It makes me most oppressively happy, my little Heather," cried my
+father.
+
+"Then I will do it for you, Daddy," I said.
+
+Lady Helen frowned at me. I went slowly out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+It is doubtless the law of life to get, more or less quickly, according
+to one's nature, accustomed to everything. In about six weeks I, who had
+lived so quietly with Aunt Penelope, had settled down to my new
+existence. I was spoken of as Lady Helen's daughter, and invariably
+addressed as Miss Dalrymple. I was dressed according to Lady Helen's
+wishes, and I was taken here, there, and everywhere. What I did notice,
+however, was that although Lady Helen, my father, and I went to numerous
+concerts, and although Lady Helen had her box at the opera, and took a
+box frequently at the theatres, and although we often dined at the
+Savoy, and the Carlton, and the Ritz hotels, and on all these occasions
+my gallant-looking father accompanied us, yet when we went into
+so-called Society he was hardly ever present. I asked Lady Helen the
+reason one day. I said to her:
+
+"It is so dull without father. Why doesn't he come with us?"
+
+On this occasion she frowned and looked anxious; then she said:
+
+"Oh, we shall manage it, probably, by next year; we must not be too
+eager. People forget very quickly, and we must not expect too much this
+year, but next year doubtless things will be all right."
+
+"But what can there be to forget?" I said.
+
+"Nothing, nothing at all," she replied. "Don't be so inquisitive,
+child."
+
+Meanwhile, I will own that I was having a good time--that is, if
+admiration, expressed and unexpressed, could give it to me. Lady Helen
+was proud of me when she saw people flocking round me and when she
+observed that the nicest men asked me to dance, and the ladies whose
+houses she was most anxious to get invited to sent me also invitations.
+She made a fuss over me, and petted me according to her lights. So I was
+happy in a kind of fashion, although, to tell the truth, there were
+times over and again when I felt very like a prisoner--a prisoner in a
+gilt cage.
+
+One day something rather peculiar occurred. I did not think much of it
+at the time, although I was destined to give it several thoughts later
+on. Lady Helen received a letter amongst many others, which she opened
+shortly after breakfast. Father was in the room. He was leaning back in
+a big chair, and was reading _The Times_. I noticed that father always
+turned to the army news first in reading any paper; he was looking at
+the army news at that moment. He was intensely interested about
+everything to do with the army; and that I could scarcely wonder at,
+seeing that he himself was a Major in His Majesty's service.
+
+Lady Helen opened her letter, turned a little white, and flung it across
+the table to father.
+
+"There!" she said. "What are we to do now?"
+
+Father took up the letter and read it slowly. His face did not look
+exactly white, but a very peculiar mottled sort of colour spread slowly
+over his cheeks, and his eyes became fierce and wild. As a rule, he was
+quick and eager in his movements, but now he rose up deliberately,
+stamped his foot, and crossing the room, put the letter into a small
+fire which was burning in the grate.
+
+"Gordon, why have you done that?" said Lady Helen.
+
+"Because your brother will not enter this house," was his reply.
+
+"Ah, poor fellow!" she exclaimed. "And am I never to see him? I must see
+him--I _will_! Child, go out of the room."
+
+"No, child, you are to stay here," said my father. He swept his arm
+round my waist, and drew me down to sit close to him. I could feel that
+he was trembling all over. Lady Helen got up.
+
+"Heather, I wish you to leave the room."
+
+"Darling father, come to me presently to my own room," I whispered. "Do,
+please--what--mother wishes--now."
+
+I brought out the words with an effort.
+
+"You are a plucky girl, my darling," he said, kissing me. "Well, then,
+go--I will come to you by and by."
+
+I was glad to escape. I ran up to my room, and sank down into an
+easy-chair. Morris, who constantly walked out with me in the morning,
+came in to know if she was to do anything, but I sent her away. I took
+up a book, I tried to read, I put it down again; I could not fix my
+attention on anything. Oh, never, never before had I seen father's eyes
+blaze with such fire, and never before had I seen Lady Helen at once
+angry and cowed. What were they saying to each other now? Until that
+moment I had not guessed that Lady Helen had a brother. Who was he, and
+why could not he come? Why should father be so angry? Why should father
+have burnt his letter? Why did father tremble from head to foot, and try
+to keep me in the room? Ah! I heard his step on the stairs. I ran to my
+door and flung it open.
+
+"Daddy, daddy, come in!" I said.
+
+He strode towards me; in a minute he was in the room, and had clasped me
+to his heart.
+
+"Upon my word, little woman," he said, "upon my word, I have gone
+through a pretty scene!"
+
+"Sit down and rest, Daddy darling; don't talk for a minute or two. This
+is my room, and you are my visitor, and you shall do just as you like."
+
+"Smoke a pipe, for instance?" he asked, giving me a quizzical glance.
+
+"Indeed you may and shall," I said. I began to poke in his pocket for
+his pipe, and when I found it filled it for him and lit it, as I used to
+do when I was a small child; then I gave it to him to smoke.
+
+"You are a dear little thing," he said. "You are the comfort of my
+life."
+
+His pipe and the peace of my room seemed to soothe him wonderfully, but
+over and over I heard him mutter, "Upon my word!" and then I heard him
+say, "No, not quite that; I have done a good bit for her ladyship, but
+that scoundrel--she must know that he can never come here."
+
+"Daddy, what is wrong?" I asked.
+
+He took his pipe out of his mouth, gave a profound sigh, and looked me
+full in the face.
+
+"There's nothing wrong at all," he said. "I was in a bit of a
+passion--not a temper--a _passion_--my passion was right and
+justifiable, but her ladyship's nearly all right now."
+
+"And won't you let her brother come to see her, Daddy?"
+
+"Stop that, Heather; you are not to question me."
+
+"Then he is not coming?" I said.
+
+"That man shall never darken my doors."
+
+"Daddy!"
+
+"Miss Curiosity is not to know the reason," he said, smiling once more
+and pinching my cheek. "Now then, look here. Her ladyship is in a bit of
+a tiff--oh, not much; she'll be herself by this evening. You and she are
+going to a very big affair to-night, and what do you say to _our_
+enjoying a very big affair to-day? Richmond, eh? in her ladyship's
+motor, eh? and no questions asked, eh, eh?"
+
+"Oh, father, how truly rapturous!"
+
+"Well, then, we'll do it. Get Morris to make you look as smart as
+possible, and I will order the motor-car to come round. Now, then, off
+with you!"
+
+I flew to get ready, and father and I had a very happy day together. As
+we were coming back in the motor-car, just in time for me to get dressed
+for that great function which he would not attend, I said to him:
+
+"Daddy, I thought that when people were a long time in the army----"
+
+"Eh, eh?" he said. "What about the army?"
+
+"I thought that they got promotion--I mean you ought to be a full
+colonel, or even a general, by now."
+
+"Little Heather, will you promise with all your heart and soul never to
+repeat something I am going to say to you?"
+
+"Of course, I will promise you, my own daddy."
+
+"Well, I am not in the army--I haven't been in the army for years."
+
+"Daddy!"
+
+"Now listen, and keep that knowledge deep down in your heart. But for
+that scoundrel who wanted to pay us a visit I'd have been a general in
+his Majesty's service now. No more words, Heather; no more words--keep
+it dark, _dark_ in your heart. I am called Major by her ladyship as a
+matter of courtesy, but I was snuffed out some time ago, child; yes,
+snuffed out. Now then, here we are! We've had a good day--very jolly to
+be alone with my little Heather--life's not half bad when you consider
+that your own child need not understand every black and evil thing about
+you. But I am snuffed out for all that, little Heather mine."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+About a month passed by, and the scene which I have alluded to seemed to
+have receded like distant smoke. Lady Helen and my father were the best
+of friends. I went to see Lady Carrington as often as I could, but for
+some reason Lady Helen Dalrymple and she were only the merest
+acquaintances, and I could see that Lady Helen was jealous when Lady
+Carrington invited me to her house. The days I spent with that good
+woman were the happiest of my life just then, but they were few and far
+between.
+
+I saw very little of father. After our long delightful day at Richmond
+he seemed to pass more or less out of my life. He seemed to me to be an
+absolute and complete cipher, so much so that I could not bear to look
+at him. His hearty, happy, jolly, delightful manners were subdued, his
+eyes were more sunken than they used to be, and the colour in his cheeks
+had quite faded. I used to gaze at him with a pang at my heart, and
+wonder if he were really growing thin. He hardly ever said now, "Hallo,
+hallo! here we are!" or "Oh, I say, how jolly!" In fact, I never heard
+any of his old hearty exclamations; but what annoyed me most was that
+when Lady Helen was present he hardly took any notice of me.
+
+Nevertheless, I had my good times, for by now I was tired of sitting up
+half the night and of going to endless dances and listening to
+innumerable empty compliments, and being smiled at by men whom I could
+not take the faintest interest in, and whose names I hardly remembered.
+But as the summer came on faster and faster, and the London season
+advanced to its height, I did enjoy my morning walks with Morris. Lady
+Helen had said something about my having a horse to ride, but up to the
+present I was not given one, and consequently I walked with Morris, and
+we invariably went into Hyde Park or Kensington Gardens.
+
+I remember a day early in May, when I unexpectedly met Captain Carbury.
+I was sitting on a chair, with Morris next to me, when I saw him in the
+distance. He pushed rapidly through a crowd of people, and came up to my
+side. He took a chair close to mine.
+
+"Can't you get your maid to walk about for a short time?" he said. "I
+have something of great importance I want to say to you."
+
+I turned towards Morris.
+
+"Morris, will you kindly go to the first entrance and buy me two
+shillingsworth of violets?" I said to the girl.
+
+Morris rose at once to do what I asked.
+
+"That's right," said Captain Carbury, when we were alone. "I have such a
+strange thing to tell you, Miss Grayson."
+
+"That isn't my name now," I said.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he replied, turning a little red, "Miss Dalrymple."
+Then he added: "I have been wanting to see you for weeks, but did not
+know how to manage it."
+
+"But was there any difficulty?" I asked. "You know where my father and
+Lady Helen live. You could have called."
+
+He coloured and looked down on the ground.
+
+"We have met at last," he said, after a pause, "and now I have this to
+tell you."
+
+"What?"
+
+"You saw Dorothy Vinguard once, didn't you?"
+
+"The girl you are engaged to? Of course."
+
+"I am not engaged to her any longer; our engagement is broken off."
+
+"Oh, I am sorry," I said, and I looked at him with a world of sympathy
+in my eyes.
+
+"Dear little Miss Heather," he replied, "you needn't be sorry, for I
+assure you I am not."
+
+"But why is it broken off?" I asked. "I thought when people were engaged
+that, if they were nice people, they considered it sacred, and--and
+_kept_ engaged until they married."
+
+"Oh, you dear little innocent!" he replied. "How little you know! Well,
+at any rate, I am not going to enlighten you with regard to the ways of
+this wicked world. The engagement is broken off, and I am glad of it. I
+didn't do it; she did. She has engaged herself now to another man, with
+five or six times my money. She is all right, and so am I."
+
+Then I said slowly, "You puzzle me very much, Captain Carbury. I thought
+you were very, very fond of her."
+
+He dug his stick into the gravel walk near; then he glanced round at me
+impatiently.
+
+"You can put all that sort of thing into the past tense," he said. "Now
+tell me about yourself. How are you getting on?"
+
+"I am not getting on," I answered.
+
+"You surprise me! I hear quite the contrary I hear that dear little
+Miss Heather, who was so kind to me, and did me such immense honour as
+to put me into her gallery of heroes, is making quite a stir in society.
+When society begins to appreciate you, Miss Heather, you ought to
+consider yourself in luck. They say--and by 'they' I mean the people who
+live in this wicked world, the people who are 'in the know,' you
+understand--that if you are not engaged to be married before this time
+next year, you will be the height of the fashion."
+
+I found myself colouring very deeply.
+
+"I don't intend to be either engaged or married," I said; "and to make a
+stir in society is about the very last thing I should wish."
+
+"I wonder what you would wish?" he asked, looking at me attentively.
+
+I looked back at him. Then I said, in a low, quiet voice:
+
+"I can't quite understand why it is, but I find it very easy to tell you
+things. Perhaps it is because you are in my gallery and I am in yours."
+
+"Yes, of course, that is the reason," he replied, with one of his quick,
+beautiful smiles.
+
+"I will tell you what I really want."
+
+"Do, Miss Heather--I really can't call you Miss Dalrymple, so it must
+be Miss Heather."
+
+"I don't mind," I answered.
+
+"Well, now then, out with your greatest wish!"
+
+"I should like," I said, speaking deliberately, "to leave London, and to
+go into the heart of the country, to find there a pretty cottage, with
+woodbine and monthly roses climbing about the walls, and dear little
+low-ceiled rooms, and little lattice windows, and no sign of any other
+house anywhere near at all. And I should like beyond words to take
+father and live with him, all by our two selves, in that cottage. I
+should not want fine dresses there, and society would matter less than
+nothing to me."
+
+Captain Carbury looked somewhat surprised, then he said, quietly:
+
+"About your father; well, of course, I--I _can't_ speak about him, you
+know, but there's--there's Lady Helen. How would she enjoy your
+programme?"
+
+"There would be no programme at all, no dream to be fulfilled, no
+happiness to be secured, if she went with us," I answered.
+
+"Oh, I see," he answered; "poor little Miss Heather!" And he whistled
+softly under his breath.
+
+I looked full at him.
+
+"You don't like her either," I said, and it seemed to me that a new and
+very strong chord of sympathy sprang up between us as I uttered the
+words.
+
+"No," he answered. "I won't say why--I won't give any reasons; she may
+mean all right, but she's a worldly woman, and I don't care a bit about
+worldly women. I am afraid you won't have your dream, Miss Heather, so I
+must tell you what is the next best thing for you to do."
+
+"But there is no next best," I replied.
+
+"Yes, there is. Now listen to me attentively. The very best thing, all
+circumstances considered, for you to do is to get engaged right away to
+the sort of fellow who understands you and whom you understand--the sort
+of man who would put you into his gallery, you know, and whom you would
+put into your gallery. Oh, yes, you comprehend what I mean. The best
+thing for you, Miss Heather, is to get engaged to that man, and when
+once you are engaged not on any account to break off your engagement,
+but to have it speedily followed by marriage. You'd be as happy as the
+day is long with the man who understands you, and whom you understood.
+And, for that matter, you _could_ have your cottage in the country, only
+it would not be shared by your father but by--well, by the other
+man--the man who understands you so well, you know."
+
+"I don't know," I said; "and I certainly won't marry any man unless I
+love him."
+
+"But you must love him," he said, giving me a long and most earnest
+glance, "if you put him into your gallery of heroes."
+
+"Oh, I don't know," I replied to that. "I can admire immensely
+without--without loving. Why, Captain Carbury, I have put you in,
+and----"
+
+But then he gave me another glance, and it was so very earnest, and his
+dark blue eyes looked so very pleading, that suddenly the colour leaped
+into my cheeks, and I lowered my own eyes and began to tremble all over.
+
+"It is the best thing for you, Miss Heather," he said, dropping his
+voice almost to a whisper. "Oh! yes, I know what I am talking about.
+Lots of girls do dreadful things; they mar their lives fearfully. I'll
+tell you how they mar them. They--they marry, and not for love."
+
+"But I am not one of those girls," I replied.
+
+"Are you not, really?" he said. "Now, I have heard rumours, oh,
+yes!--and while the rumours are being circulated, everything sounds very
+nice and very golden, but----" He bent a little closer, until his arm
+touched mine.
+
+Morris was coming back. I saw her trailing her dress over the grass, and
+carrying a great basket of violets, white and different shades of blue,
+in her hand.
+
+"Listen," he said. "Even if you did not love with all your heart and
+soul and strength, don't you think that you might just try the man you
+put into your gallery of heroes? Don't you think you might begin"--he
+dropped his voice, and it became quite hoarse--"to love him a little?"
+
+"Oh! oh! oh!" I said; "I could not! You were engaged only a few days ago
+to Lady Dorothy Vinguard! Why, Captain Carbury, I never even thought of
+you. I don't love anybody at all, except father--that is--yet."
+
+"There's a great deal in the little word 'yet,' Miss Heather. We should
+not be rich, neither would we be exactly poor, but I am quite sure I
+could make you happy. Truly, I never really cared for Dorothy. She was
+thought a good match for me, and all that sort of thing, you know; but
+she was too statuesque. I want life, I want warmth, I want soul, I
+want--oh! all the things you could give. I would make you as happy as
+the day is long; I could, and I would. Then--let me whisper. You need
+never see _her_ any more. Think of it, dear little Heather! Heather,
+Morris is quite close, and I must whisper a secret to you. It was from
+the day I first met you that I began to find out what sort of girl Lady
+Dorothy really was--I discovered then that there was a better girl in
+the world than Lady Dorothy. I want a wife like you; I want you, your
+very self; you, before you learn to love the world and the ways of the
+world; you--just because you are so young and so pure and sweet. Think
+of it, think of it, Heather, and don't say no! Wait at least until
+to-morrow. I will be in this very place at eleven o'clock to-morrow
+morning, waiting to get your answer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+I do not know how I parted with Vernon Carbury. I cannot recall even to
+this day whether I shook hands with him or not, or even whether he
+walked with me as far as the gates of the Park. What I do remember
+vividly is this: that I went home to Hanbury Square like one walking in
+a dream. The whole world seemed to me to be filled with a wonderful new
+light. In the midst of this radiance was one figure, one face; out of
+the brightness one voice seemed to speak, and one pair of eyes to shine.
+I was certain I did not in the least love Captain Carbury, but I did
+know that our meeting had been full of keen excitement, and that I was
+altogether lifted out of myself into a new and wonderful world. I wanted
+to be quite alone, to think over what had happened. I was puzzled, too,
+at the fact that I was trembling, and that my cheeks were hot one minute
+and that I felt cold all over the next.
+
+Morris walked discreetly behind me, and the beautiful smell of the
+violets came in wafts now and then to my nostrils. During our walk home
+Morris had not spoken to me. When I reached the house I went straight to
+my pretty bedroom; I wanted more badly than ever to be quite by myself,
+but Morris annoyed me. She followed me into my bedroom, carrying the
+violets.
+
+"Shall I arrange these in your sitting-room for you, miss?" she asked.
+
+"Please do," I answered; "and Morris, do not come near me for a time,
+for I wish to be quite alone."
+
+"Certainly, miss. I was to say, please, that the Major and her ladyship
+have gone on the river, but that lunch will be ready for you whenever
+you wish for it in the smaller dining-room."
+
+"I am not hungry, and I don't wish for lunch," I replied.
+
+"Shall I bring you up some tea and a lightly boiled egg, miss?"
+
+"Yes; that will do nicely," I answered.
+
+She tripped away, and I shut and locked the door. I could not bear to
+encounter her face, for it was full of meaning. She treated me as though
+I were slightly ill, and as though she were my nurse. I hated beyond
+words the knowledge that she shared my secret with me; but then, of
+course, I had no secret, for although Vernon Carbury had said those
+wonderful, those amazing words, I did not love him back again. How was
+it possible that I, a girl who respected myself, could love a man who a
+few weeks before had been engaged to another?
+
+I sat in my room, leaning back in my comfortable chair; then I started
+up and paced the floor impatiently; then I tried very hard to make
+myself angry with Captain Carbury--I wanted to force myself even to hate
+him a little bit--but I did not succeed. I could only remember the look
+in his eyes, and the smile on his lips, and the thrill in his voice,
+when he told me how he cared for me, and I could only recall the fact
+that I certainly would meet him at eleven o'clock on the following
+morning in Hyde Park.
+
+Morris must share my secret. It was a terrible thing to reflect about,
+but I could not go to Hyde Park alone; she must, therefore, accompany
+me. Well, that would end the whole thing. I would tell dear, kind Vernon
+that all my life long I would remember his good words to me, and that I
+would ever and ever keep him in my gallery of heroes, but that, of
+course--and I knew that I must speak very steadily and firmly at this
+juncture of my conversation--I could never love him, nor, by any
+possibility, marry him. I should be quite pleased to be his friend, but
+beyond that anything else was impossible.
+
+There came a tap at my door. It was Morris, bearing a tray with some
+delicately-prepared tea, some fragrant toast, some little pats of
+delicious butter, on a silver tray, and a nice, fresh, brown egg,
+lightly boiled. Morris carried the tray in one hand; in the other she
+held a great basket full of the most exquisite roses I had ever seen in
+my life.
+
+"For you, Miss Dalrymple," she said, and she laid the basket of roses on
+the dressing-table.
+
+"Oh! oh!" I said. I adored flowers, and I buried my face now in the
+fragrant blooms.
+
+"Aren't they beautiful, miss?" remarked Morris. "They must have cost a
+small fortune."
+
+My cheeks were very red indeed, nor did I look up from sniffing at the
+flowers until Morris had left the room, closing the door softly behind
+her. Then I rose slowly, and carrying the basket with me, laid it on the
+floor at my feet. I sat down by the table, where my small lunch awaited
+me, but I did not care to eat. I began carefully to take one beautiful
+blossom after another out of the basket. Of course, Vernon Carbury had
+sent these flowers to me; there was no doubt whatever on the subject.
+How reckless of him--how wrong of him! And yet, how splendidly nice and
+delightful of him! But I must speak to him on this very point to-morrow.
+He was, of course, far from rich, and he must on no account spend his
+money on me; I would not permit it for a moment. Still, it was
+delightful to sniff these roses, and to think of him, and to wonder,
+deep down in my heart, what he could find in a little, insignificant
+girl like me to love.
+
+I had finished my tea and was standing by the window, when, to my
+amazement, I heard a firm and determined knock at the door. Whoever the
+person was who waited without, she did not linger long; she turned the
+handle of the door and entered.
+
+It was my stepmother. Her eyes lighted up with pleasure as they fell on
+the beautiful basket of hothouse roses.
+
+"Ah!" she said, "I might have guessed as much. This explains everything,
+and how lovely!"
+
+"I thought you were on the river," I said.
+
+"A tiresome thing happened," she replied, "and I have come back. Aren't
+those flowers lovely?"
+
+"Yes," I said. I felt quite pleased and surprised at her sympathy. Was
+it possible that I had been mistaken in her all the time? Was she really
+the sort of woman who would wish me to care about a man like Captain
+Carbury?
+
+She came up to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
+
+"Heather," she said, "you are one of the lucky people of the world. I
+knew that, from the moment I laid my eyes on you; I told your father so,
+and for some time we both have seen what was coming. Yes; you are of the
+fortunate ones of the earth. Remember, Heather, in your days of
+prosperity, that you will always have to thank me for this."
+
+"But nothing is coming," I answered, for although I was surprised and
+liked her for her sympathy, I would not even pretend that I cared for
+Vernon Carbury. Then I continued:
+
+"It was impossible for you to know it, whatever you mean by 'it,' for
+any length of time, for he has only just broken off----"
+
+"He--he has only just broken off!" exclaimed my stepmother. "What are
+you talking of, child? Really, Heather, you are the most tiresome girl I
+ever met. What you want, my dear, is an early engagement, and a quick
+marriage."
+
+"Oh, just what--what----"
+
+"Now again you interrupt--I cannot understand you in the very least.
+What do you mean by 'just what--what'?"
+
+"Nothing, mother," I said. It hurt me awfully to say the word, but I
+forced myself to do it, for father's sake.
+
+"I don't believe you know yourself," remarked Lady Helen. "Now, get into
+your prettiest dress. We are going to motor in the Park, you and I, all
+by ourselves."
+
+"But Where's Daddy?" I asked. "I want Daddy to come with us."
+
+"Your father won't be in until dinner-time; he is very busy. By the way,
+two gentlemen, special friends of mine--and, indeed, I think one of them
+is a special friend of yours--are coming to dine here to-night."
+
+"Oh!" I said. I felt myself changing colour.
+
+My stepmother gazed at me, and a curious smile, which I did not like,
+flitted across her face.
+
+"Come," she said; "you are a good girl; you are not quite as silly as
+you seem, and I perceive that you are taking kindly to my arrangements."
+
+"Please tell me the names of the gentlemen who are dining here
+to-night?" I asked.
+
+"I shall do nothing of the kind. I never give away my pet secrets. You
+will see them when they come, and I wish you to look your very sweetest
+and best. That new feathery sort of dress, with the silver embroidery,
+will exactly suit you. You can wear a great bunch of these roses just
+here"--she indicated the front of my dress--"and Morris will arrange a
+few on the skirt. I assure you, with those additions to your white and
+silver dress, you will, my dear daughter, be irresistible. It isn't
+every girl who does so well in her first season; but then, it isn't
+every girl who has the advantage of a mother like me. Now I mustn't
+waste any more time. Ring for Morris. Tell her that she is to put you
+into your dark blue costume, with the blue hat to match, and the silver
+fox fur. Get ready as fast as you can. Ah! here you are, Morris. Attend
+to Miss Dalrymple, please."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+Lady Helen swept out of the room, and Morris began to dress me.
+
+"It's strange, her ladyship coming back," she remarked. But I was in no
+mood to exchange confidences with my maid. I said at once:
+
+"I suppose Lady Helen can change her mind."
+
+"Oh, of course, miss; but all the same it is strange. It means--yes,
+miss, I know what it means."
+
+"Please, Morris, don't talk now; my head aches."
+
+"Poor young lady!" said Morris. She gave me a significant look. "If I
+was you I'd be firm," she said. "It means courage, but you have plenty
+of spirit. We remark on it in the servants' hall. We say that it would
+take a great deal to knock Miss Heather's spirit out of her."
+
+There was no use in finding fault with Morris. I remained silent.
+
+"Those roses are superb," she said again, as she arranged my dark blue
+cloth dress, and got me ready for my drive in the Park with my
+stepmother.
+
+I made no response, but my heart throbbed when she mentioned the roses.
+I wondered if Captain Carbury were coming to dinner. I forgot altogether
+the fact that Captain Carbury and my father, for some extraordinary
+reason, did not wish to meet. As I considered the possibility of the
+Captain's dining with us that evening, something else happened. I began
+to long inexpressibly for him. I earnestly hoped he would come, that he
+would be the person allotted to take me in to dinner, that I should sit
+by his side, and that I should have an opportunity of scolding him--of
+course, very gently--with regard to the roses. I made up my mind to tell
+him that he was foolishly extravagant, and to implore of him not to do
+such a thing again. It would be impossible for me to be too severe when
+I was wearing his roses, for I determined just when Morris was arranging
+my hat at the most becoming angle not to wear the silver thing in my
+hair, but a bunch of the softest roses, exactly where he would like to
+see them, nestling behind my ear.
+
+Morris was very quick in getting me into my afternoon costume, and a
+few minutes later my stepmother and I were bowling away in the direction
+of Hyde Park. There we joined a long procession of carriages and motors.
+It was a beautiful day, and we both looked around us, enjoying the gay
+and brilliant scene.
+
+Lady Helen was dressed in her usual extravagant style, and her face was
+covered with a thick veil. She managed by this means to keep all
+appearance of age at bay, and looked quite an elegant woman of the world
+as she leaned back in her expensive motor-car with her wonderful sables
+round her shoulders. By and by a look of excitement flashed from her
+dark eyes. She desired the chauffeur to stop. We pulled up at the kerb,
+and a fine, aristocratic-looking man with a slightly withered face and
+tired grey eyes came forward. I had met him several times at different
+balls and assemblies. I liked him, and felt that there was even a
+possibility of our being friends. I regarded him in the light of an
+uncle.
+
+"How do you do, Lord Hawtrey?" said Lady Helen.
+
+Lord Hawtrey bowed to Lady Helen. Then he bowed to me. His tired eyes
+lit up with a smile, and he began to talk eagerly. While he talked he
+looked at me, and each moment it seemed to me that his eyes grew less
+tired, and the wrinkles seemed to leave his face. He certainly had a
+very fatherly manner towards me, and I smiled back at him in return, and
+felt very happy. I noticed on that special occasion, however, that there
+was a great deal of sadness behind his outward suavity of manner. I
+pitied him for this, as it was my nature to pity all creatures in the
+world who were not perfectly happy.
+
+"I am so glad you are coming to dine to-night," said Lady Helen.
+
+So he was one of the guests! Well, that did not matter. Captain Carbury
+must, of course, be the other. As the motor-car started forward again
+Lord Hawtrey gave me a long, penetrating, observant glance. It seemed to
+me afterwards that it was a peculiar glance.
+
+Lady Helen was now in the highest spirits, and loud in the praises of
+his lordship.
+
+"It is a feather in your cap, my dear," she said, "to be noticed so
+kindly by a man like Hawtrey. Perhaps you are unaware of the fact that
+he is one of the most sought-after men in London, because he is one of
+the best catches of the season."
+
+"What do you mean by a catch?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, you ignorant little thing! But I suppose some people would find a
+charm in all that. Doubtless he does."
+
+"Please do tell me what you mean by a good catch?" I repeated.
+
+She laughed disagreeably.
+
+"A good catch," she said, "is--is--well, let me think--the best fish in
+the sea, the best trout in the stream, the best--the best--oh, the best
+of everything; that is, if money means anything, and birth anything,
+and--charm anything, and the finest house in England anything. That is
+what a good catch means. Now, perhaps, you understand."
+
+"You think, perhaps, that some girl may like to marry Lord Hawtrey?" I
+said, after a long pause.
+
+"Some girl will," she exclaimed. "Any girl who is not previously engaged
+would give her eyes for such a connection."
+
+She looked at me intently.
+
+"But surely," I said, "he is old enough to be a young girl's father?"
+
+"Your childishness oppresses me," said Lady Helen. "I thought he'd be in
+the Park; that is the true reason why I came out. I wanted to be
+certain of him to-night. I think we'll go home now. I am anxious for my
+tea, and the air is turning chilly."
+
+We returned to the house. I was still feeling happy. And this, I had to
+own to myself, was because of Captain Carbury. I accepted the certain
+fact, and with a joyful beating of my heart, that he stood between me
+and my stepmother, that he had placed himself deliberately as a shield
+between her and me. I remembered, too, that chivalrous, beautiful light
+in his eyes when he told me that morning that he loved me. Oh, of
+course, I would not marry for years and years, but it was nice to know
+that one like Vernon Carbury loved me.
+
+Morris was very fidgety about my dress that evening. She was really a
+splendid maid, and performed her duties deftly and quietly. As a rule,
+she never made a fuss. She seemed to know what was the right dress for
+me to wear, and I put it on at her bidding. But to-night she was quite
+excited. I felt almost sure, as I glanced at her face, that she shared
+my secret, and once or twice, while I was going through the long and
+tedious process of the toilet, I longed to ask her if she knew that
+Captain Carbury was coming to dinner. But something kept me back from
+uttering the words. I knew I should blush if I asked her that question,
+and then Morris would be sure. Morris was not sure yet; she could only
+guess.
+
+By and by I was fully dressed. Had Aunt Penelope seen me, she would not
+have recognised in the radiant girl to whose cheeks excitement had given
+a passing tinge of colour, to whose eyes excitement had lent the glow
+which comes straight from the heart, the Heather she had counselled to
+live the simple life, and walk worthy of her God. Nevertheless, I said
+to myself, "I should love to kiss the dear old thing to-night."
+
+Just then Morris entered the room with a wreath of roses, which she had
+skilfully twined together. These she fastened with the deftest of deft
+fingers across the front of my dress. She put another spray of roses on
+one shoulder, and a little bunch in my hair.
+
+"Now, if I was you, miss," she said, "I wouldn't wear one jewel. I
+wouldn't have the string of pearls round my neck, nor anything. I'd just
+wear these real roses on that silver white dress. Oh, Miss Dalrymple,
+you do look lovely!"
+
+"By the way, Morris," I said, suddenly, "where are the violets we bought
+to-day?"
+
+"The violets, miss? What have they to do with your toilet?"
+
+"I want just a very few to pin into the front of my dress," I said.
+"Fetch me a bowl of them from my sitting-room, and be quick, Morris."
+
+"They'll spoil the effect; it's a dreadful pity," said Morris.
+
+"I must have them," I replied.
+
+Morris went and fetched them. I chose a big bunch, and fastening it in a
+heap, pinned it next the roses at my left side. Then I picked up my fan
+and gloves and ran downstairs.
+
+Lady Helen and my father were both in the big drawing-room. My father's
+cheeks were blazing with excitement. I had not seen his face look so red
+for a long time. Lady Helen had evidently been whispering something to
+him, because when I appeared they started asunder, and looked almost
+guiltily one at the other. Then my father came up to me, made a low bow,
+and, taking my hand, raised it to his lips.
+
+"Nonsense, Daddy!" I said. "I am not going to have you treating me in
+this formal fashion," and I flung my arms round his neck and kissed him
+several times.
+
+"For goodness' sake, Gordon, don't crush her roses!" cried Lady Helen.
+
+We started apart, for the first visitor, Lord Hawtrey, was announced. He
+was greeted by Lady Helen and my father, and then he turned to me. I
+noticed that he looked me all over, and that his eyes shone with
+pleasure when he observed my lovely roses. I had never felt shy with
+Lord Hawtrey, and was not shy now.
+
+"Do you like my roses?" I said, going to his side.
+
+"They suit you," was his answer.
+
+"They were sent to me by a very great friend. I am sure you cannot guess
+his name," I said.
+
+The footman flung the door open again, and a man entered who was called
+Sir Francis Dolby. He was a tall, very thin man. I knew him slightly. I
+also disliked him. My heart sank low, very low, within me, when he
+entered the room. So Captain Carbury was not dining in my stepmother's
+house that evening.
+
+Lady Helen came and whispered something to Lord Hawtrey. The result of
+this was that he took me in to dinner. He talked charmingly during the
+meal. He took no notice of the fact that I was a little distraite--that
+my heart was very low within me. Whether he guessed any of my thoughts
+or not I can never tell, but he certainly did his best to restore my
+flagging spirits. By and by, when he saw that the kindest thing was to
+leave me alone, he devoted himself to the rest of the party, and soon
+had my father in roars of laughter over his good stories.
+
+At last, the weary dinner came to an end. The smell of the roses was so
+strong that I felt almost faint. My head was aching. What could be the
+matter with me? I began, however, to centre my thoughts on one bright
+beacon star of hope. I should meet Captain Carbury at eleven o'clock
+to-morrow morning in the Park.
+
+Lady Helen gave the signal, and we went into the drawing-room; there she
+said, eagerly:
+
+"My child, you look pale. Are you tired?"
+
+"No," I answered; "I am not the least tired." But then I added, rather
+petulantly, "I have too many flowers on my dress; the smell of the roses
+in these hot rooms makes me almost faint. May I not take some of them
+off?"
+
+"By no means," she answered, and she stepped back a few paces and looked
+at me attentively.
+
+"Really, Heather," she said, "you are, I believe, intended by
+Providence to look pale; that pallor in your cheeks, joined to the
+darkness of your big eyes, gives you a wonderfully interesting, almost
+spiritual, look."
+
+"If you but knew," I answered, "how very, very little I care for how I
+look!"
+
+I said these words defiantly. I was certain she would scold me for
+uttering them. She paused, however, as though she were listening, then
+she said:
+
+"In future, my dear child, you may look as you like, and act as you
+like; for the present, just please me. Reward me for my good services to
+you by being my good little Heather on this one evening."
+
+I was surprised at her words, and at the sort of affectionate admiration
+in her manner. She made me sit next to her on the sofa.
+
+"You are not a bit fit to go to the theatre," she said. "I shall go with
+Frank Dolby; nothing will induce him to miss a play."
+
+"And father?" I remarked.
+
+"I doubt if your father will care to go, Heather; he'll probably amuse
+himself in the smoking-room."
+
+"He and Lord Hawtrey together in the smoking-room," I answered.
+
+"I did not say that." She smiled, glanced at me, and looked away. "Lie
+back on the sofa and rest, dear," she said.
+
+Voices were heard in the hall; she bustled out of the room; I wondered
+at her manner. But I was really tired now--she was right about that; my
+head ached; I was suffering from cruel disappointment. The day had been
+most exciting, the day had been brimful of hope, and now night brought
+disappointment. People were talking eagerly in the hall. I felt
+indifferent. Then there was silence. The next minute the drawing-room
+door was opened, and my father came in.
+
+"God bless you, my Heather!" he said. "And now, child, listen to me. You
+must do whatever you think right. Her ladyship's away, Heather, 'hey!
+nonny, nonny!'--her ladyship's away, and I won't be bullied about my own
+little girl. You do just what you think right."
+
+He knelt down as he spoke, bent over me, put his arm round my neck,
+pressed his lips to mine, and then hurried out of the room. I was just
+intending to go up to bed; I was longing for the quiet of my own
+chamber; I wanted intensely to put my treasured roses into water; I
+wanted to creep into bed and dream about Captain Carbury. I pined for
+the shelter of my little room, for the darkness, the peace. I should
+fall asleep presently, but until then I could think and think of the man
+who had said good words to me that day, of the man whom I should meet
+to-morrow. Of course, I would not marry him--no, not for the wide world;
+but I might think of him, I might--I made up my mind that I would.
+
+The house was quite silent. I raised myself from the sofa, and walked as
+far as the fireplace; I bent down over the fire, then, raising myself, I
+caught my own reflection in the glass. The vision of a girl looked back
+at me from its mirrored depths--a girl with eyes like stars, lips
+slightly parted, a radiant face. Somebody came in quickly--who was it? I
+turned. Lord Hawtrey was at my side.
+
+"I won't stay long, unless you give me leave," he said. "Lady Helen
+thought you would not mind seeing me, and your father is in the
+house--he is in the smoking-room; Lady Helen thinks you won't mind."
+
+"Sit down, won't you?" I said.
+
+"Oh, no. I cannot sit while you stand."
+
+"But I am a young girl, and you are an old man," I said. "Do, please,
+sit down. You look very tired, too," I added, and I gave him an
+affectionate glance, for I really quite liked him.
+
+His face flushed uncomfortably when I called him an old man; but I could
+not by any possibility think of him in any other light.
+
+"I cannot sit," he said. "Old or young, I must stand at the present
+moment. I thought to write to you, but her ladyship said, 'Better
+speak.' Have I your leave, Miss Grayson, to say a few words? Do you
+greatly mind?"
+
+"They call me Dalrymple here," I answered, speaking in a weary voice.
+
+"I know that, but your real name is Grayson, and I mean to call you by
+it. Whatever the rest of the world may feel, I am not ashamed of your
+real name."
+
+"Is anyone?" I asked. I was sitting on the sofa now; my cheeks were
+blazing hotly, and my eyes were very bright.
+
+"Of course not," he answered, and he fixed his tired eyes for a minute
+on my face.
+
+"My child," he said--and surely no voice in all the world could be
+kinder--"it is my firm intention not to allow you to be forced in any
+way. I will lay a proposition before you, and you are to accept or
+decline it, just exactly as you like. If you accept it, Miss--Miss
+Heather, you will make one man almost too happy for this earth; if you
+decline it, he will still love and respect you. Now, may I speak?"
+
+He paused, and I had time to observe that he was anxious, and that
+whatever he wished to say was troubling him; also that he wanted to get
+it over, that he was desirous to know the worst or the best as quickly
+as possible. I wondered if he was a relation of Captain Carbury's, and
+if he was going to speak about him; but I did not think it would be like
+Captain Carbury to put his own affairs into the hands of anyone else.
+Still, I had always liked Lord Hawtrey, although quite in a daughterly
+fashion.
+
+"What is it?" I said, gently. "Are you related to--to him?"
+
+"I have hardly any relations, little Heather Grayson," was his next
+remark. "I am a very lonely man."
+
+"I did not know that rich people were ever lonely," I said.
+
+He laughed.
+
+"Rich people are the loneliest of all," he said.
+
+"I cannot understand that," I answered.
+
+"Why, you see, it is this way," he answered, bending slightly forward,
+and looking at me--oh! so respectfully, and with, as far as I could
+guess, such a very fatherly glance; "rich people, who live on unearned
+incomes, have neither to work nor to beg; they just go on day after day,
+getting every single thing they wish for. Not one desire enters their
+minds that they cannot satisfy. Thus, little Miss Grayson, it is the law
+of life, desire itself ever gratified, fades away and is not, and the
+people I speak of are utterly miserable."
+
+"I do not understand," I replied.
+
+"I am rich, and yet I am one of the most lonely and, in some respects,
+one of the most miserable men in London."
+
+I sprang to my feet and confronted him.
+
+"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself," I said. "If you are rich,
+rich like that, think what good you ought to do with your money; think
+what grand use you ought to make of it; think of the people who are out
+of employment, and the poor young people--girls especially--who are so
+shamefully underpaid, and think of the hospitals that need more funds,
+and the big, great charities that are crying aloud for more help! If you
+want to be happy, to use your money right, you ought to give to all of
+these, and you ought to learn to give with discrimination and judgment.
+When I lived in the country Aunt Penelope taught me a lot about the
+right giving of charity, so I can understand. You need not be quite so
+frightfully rich if you give of your abundance to those who have much
+less; and if you not only give of your money, but of yourself, of your
+life, of all, or a greater part of your time, you'll be just awfully
+happy. People who do that sort of thing invariably are. Aunt Penelope
+says so, and she ought to know."
+
+"Your Aunt Penelope must be a very wise woman. I should like to meet
+her; and that is a most brilliant idea. I wonder if it could be carried
+into effect?"
+
+"Surely there is nothing to prevent it."
+
+"Then, little Heather Grayson, will you help me to carry it into
+effect?"
+
+"I wish I could; but how can I? I am such a very young girl."
+
+I began to find him less interesting than I had done a minute ago. I
+pushed a big sofa-pillow between my back and the edge of the sofa; I
+pined for eleven o'clock on the following day.
+
+"I must make my meaning plain," he said. "I want someone just like you,
+young, and pure, and innocent, and, I believe, holy--to help me, to
+live with me, to be my--oh! I want someone whom I could train and--whom
+I could love."
+
+"A sort of companion," I said, in some amazement; "or, perhaps, you mean
+an adopted daughter; but then, you see, I am father's daughter, although
+he has married Lady Helen."
+
+"Ah, poor child!" he said. "I can quite see that you are your father's
+daughter, although he has married Lady Helen. But tell me--do you really
+think me old enough to be your father?"
+
+"But, of course--yes, Lord Hawtrey, you are."
+
+"Perhaps I am; on the other hand, perhaps I am not. But, after all,
+little Miss Heather, the question of age scarcely matters. Deep in my
+heart there lives eternal youth, and now and then--oh, by no means
+always--but now and then, and especially when I am with you, it comes to
+the surface. Eternal youth is a beautiful thing, and when I see you,
+little Miss Grayson, and watch your innocent country ways, it visits me;
+it is like a cool, refreshing fountain, bubbling up in my heart."
+
+"But aren't we perhaps talking fairy talk?" I said, pulling one of the
+roses out of its position in front of my dress and letting it fall to
+the floor.
+
+He got very red, but nevertheless he kept himself well in control.
+
+"I want you to think it over," he said. "I know you will be unprepared
+for what I mean to say. I want you as my wife. I can give you all the
+outward things that the hearts of most women desire--I can give you
+wealth, and beautiful dresses, and a lovely house--several lovely
+houses--to live in; and I can make the best, and the greatest, and the
+cleverest people your friends. I can take you far away, too, from this
+flash and glitter. Little child, I can help to save you. Will you be my
+wife? Don't--at least to-night--say no. I promise to make you the best,
+the most devoted of husbands. I shall love you as I never loved woman,
+and you will soon get accustomed to my grey hairs, and to the fact that
+I am forty years of age. Don't say no, little Heather. I have loved you
+with my whole heart, from the first moment I saw you."
+
+I knew that, in spite of myself, my eyes opened wide, so wide that
+presently they filled with tears, and the tears dropped down and
+splashed on the roses which I had put on with such pride. I knew now
+from where the flowers had come. I hated the roses; I loathed their
+heavy perfume. I rose abruptly.
+
+"Lord Hawtrey," I said, "I ought to thank you, but I am too young and
+confused, and--and--oh, I must say it!--too _distressed_! You don't want
+to force me to this?"
+
+"No. You must come to me of your own free will."
+
+"I believe you are a very good man," I said; "I am sure of it, and I
+thank you very much; but you must understand that to me you seem like a
+father, and I can never, never think of you in any other light. You will
+forgive me, but I cannot say any more--I can never say any more. I do
+like you, but I can never say anything more at all."
+
+I did not touch his hand. I walked slowly towards the door; Lord Hawtrey
+opened it for me; I passed out. He bent his head in acknowledgment of my
+"Good night," and then, as I was going upstairs, I noticed that he shut
+the drawing-room door very softly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+When Lady Helen went to the opera or the theatre, or to special balls or
+suppers, she invariably was late for breakfast the next morning, and on
+these occasions my father generally had his breakfast with her in her
+bedroom. Lady Helen would not put in an appearance until lunch time, and
+I therefore would have the morning all to myself. After that eventful
+day and after that almost sleepless night, I was quite certain that I
+should not find anyone waiting for me in the breakfast-room. To my
+astonishment, however, both Lady Helen and my father were there. They
+looked at me when I came in, my father with anxiety and affection, Lady
+Helen with a world of meaning in her knowing, worldly old face.
+
+On the night before I had torn the roses with feverish haste from my
+dress, stuck them into a great bowl of water, and desired Morris to take
+them away; I said that the perfume gave me a headache, and that I did
+not wish to see them again. She obeyed me in some astonishment, raising
+her brows a trifle.
+
+When I entered the breakfast-room this sun-shiny spring morning, I
+interrupted a very animated _tête-à-tête_ between my father and his
+wife. I sat down quietly. Neither spoke to me beyond saying the most
+conventional "Good morning," and I ate in feverish haste what breakfast
+I required. Immediately afterwards I rushed to my room, pinned some
+fresh violets into my pretty morning dress, put on a shady hat, and
+desired Morris to accompany me to Hyde Park. Morris was quite agreeable.
+As we walked along I saw that she was murmuring something under her
+breath.
+
+"What are you saying, Morris?" I asked, speaking with slight impatience,
+for my heart was beating so very fast I could scarcely control myself.
+"I dislike people muttering in the streets," I continued.
+
+"I am sorry, miss," said Morris. "In future I'll keep my thoughts to
+myself; they are all about you. Oh, dear! I wish I had one of those
+Marguerite daisies; maybe I'd know the future if I could pull off the
+petals."
+
+"What do you mean?" I asked.
+
+"He loves me, he don't; he'll have me, he won't; he would if he could,
+but he can't, so he won't," said Morris, bringing out the gibberish in
+a rapid tone.
+
+I laughed. "Oh, Morris," I said, "how your thoughts do run on love and
+lovers! Now let's think of something else."
+
+"There's nothing else for a young maiden to think of in the spring
+time," said Morris, in oracular tones.
+
+"There is in my case," I replied. "We will buy some fresh violets
+to-day, for one thing."
+
+"Shall we get them, miss, when we are going into the Park, or when we
+are coming out?"
+
+"I want to sit just where I sat yesterday," I answered; "and while I am
+there you can buy them, as you did yesterday."
+
+"Oh, yes, miss; I quite understand," replied Morris. Then she added: "It
+must be nice, very nice, to be married, and to be very rich. But it must
+be lovely to be married when you care for the man with all your heart,
+and he is poor, very poor. I'm not meaning anything special, miss, but
+it's the spring time, and, as the poet says, it makes my fancy 'lightly
+turn to thoughts of love.'"
+
+I made no reply. I had planned my visit to the Park so that it should
+take place almost precisely at eleven o'clock, and when I got to the
+neighbourhood of the seats where Morris and I had rested yesterday, I
+perceived that one of them was occupied by a tall young man in a morning
+suit of dark grey tweed. The moment he saw me he started to his feet,
+and I turned quickly to Morris.
+
+"Go, Morris," I said, "and buy violets--three shillingsworth, please,
+and get as many white violets as ever you can."
+
+"And shall I meet you inside the gates, miss?" asked the discreet
+Morris.
+
+"Yes," I answered; "go at once."
+
+She turned on her heel, tripping away through the long vista of trees
+without once looking back. Captain Carbury came eagerly forward. He held
+out his strong hand, and took one of mine; he held my hand very tightly.
+I sat down--I felt my breath coming fast. I had thought of this hour
+ever since I had last parted with him, and now that it had come I found
+that I had not in my imagination, even for one moment, believed that it
+was half as good as it proved to be.
+
+"Won't you look at me, Heather?" he said, and he bent down and tried to
+peep at my eyes from under my shady hat. I raised them just for a
+minute.
+
+"Is it right to meet you like this?" I said.
+
+"You need never meet me like this again," he said. "You have only to say
+'Yes' to my request, and you and I together will go straight back to
+Hanbury Square, and I myself will ring the bell at Number 13, and we
+will ask for an interview with your father, and afterwards I shall be
+free to come to the house during the brief time we are engaged. For, oh,
+darling! we must be married very, very soon."
+
+"But I never promised to marry you," I answered.
+
+"Oh, Heather!" was his reply. He bent forward and looked into my eyes.
+
+"I never, never did," I said, shaking my head, and trying to avoid his
+eyes.
+
+"You certainly did not yesterday," was his answer then. "I don't know
+that I even wanted you to, but when you came to me to-day I saw 'Yes'
+written all over your face. You cannot deny it--you are mine, mine only;
+you would give up every other man in the wide world just for me."
+
+I tried very hard to reply; I tried to tell him that he was impertinent
+and vain, but the words would not rise to my lips. On the contrary, I
+had the utmost possible difficulty in keeping myself from bursting into
+tears, for I knew well that I loved him, if not yesterday, most
+certainly to-day. There was something about him which appealed to my
+whole heart, to which my heart went out. Still, I sat silent, declining
+to speak--perfectly happy, perfectly contented, afraid to break my bliss
+by the uttering of a single word.
+
+As I sat so, with my shoulder within an inch or two of his, I began to
+consider the violets, just as though he had given them to me. I had
+bought those violets yesterday, and they were full of him; I had brought
+some back with me to the Park to-day, but they were already slightly
+faded. Not that our hopes were faded--far from that--only the violets. I
+considered the violets--his special flowers--just as though he had
+plucked them and given them to me; they seemed to be mixed up with him,
+and I believed that all my life long I should love with a tender sort of
+passion the smell of violets, and hate, beyond all words, the smell of
+roses, and in particular of white roses.
+
+"What are you thinking about, Heather?" he asked.
+
+"Of you," I answered.
+
+He glanced around him to right and left.
+
+"There is no one looking," he said, drawing his chair two or three
+inches nearer; "may I--may I hold your hand?"
+
+"I cannot help it," I replied, and I spoke in a low, uncertain manner.
+
+He smiled, took my hand, and held it very tightly between both his own.
+
+"You have a very little hand, Heather," was his remark, and he held it
+yet tighter.
+
+"You are squeezing it," I said; "you are quite hurting me."
+
+"That is the last thing I would do," was his reply. He loosened the
+pressure of his hand over mine the merest fragment. After a minute of
+silence, he said:
+
+"Of course, as you allow me to hold your hand, things must be all
+right."
+
+"I--I am not sure," I answered.
+
+"But I mean that you are willing that I should arrange this thing, take
+all the trouble off you, you understand. You are willing, quite willing,
+that we shall be married as soon as ever I can arrange it?"
+
+"But this time yesterday," I replied, "I hardly thought about you. I
+certainly knew that I liked you, and that you were my friend. I little
+guessed, however, this time yesterday, that we could ever, by any
+possibility, be husband and wife."
+
+I flushed crimson as I said the words, and looked down.
+
+"But now, Heather--now--you are willing that we should be married if I
+can arrange it?"
+
+"I hardly thought of you this time yesterday," I said again.
+
+"But since that time yesterday, Heather?"
+
+"I have thought of no one else," I said. Then I coloured crimson,
+wrenched my hand away, and covered my face.
+
+"Come," he said, rising at once; "that's all right; that's as right as
+anything in all the world could be. Little Heather, little darling, we
+were made for each other. I felt certain of it the very first day I saw
+you. You came into my life, and by the witchery of your fresh and
+beautiful character you turned the great Lady Dorothy out! Not that at
+any time I really cared for her, compared to you! We met, and
+immediately into my picture gallery you went, and into your picture
+gallery I went. Oh, of course, we were made for each other! Now, shall
+we go, or that servant of yours will be returning. We will go straight
+to Major Grayson and get his consent."
+
+"But suppose he doesn't give it?" I said; and I trembled very much as
+this fear struck me.
+
+"You must leave all that to me, Heather; I think I can manage. And,
+darling, we won't have a long engagement. We'll be married almost
+immediately."
+
+"I thought people were usually engaged about two years," I said.
+
+"But you and I will not conform to the usual standard," was his reply.
+"We'll be engaged, if you please, Heather, for six weeks at the longest.
+Oh, we've a lot to do with our beautiful lives, and we'll begin by
+enjoying ourselves--that, at least, is fair. We will just be married
+when the summer is at her glorious prime, and we'll go away and away,
+and be happy for evermore! That is what we'll do, dear little one. And
+now, let's be quick. I want to set this matter in train. I want to hurry
+the lagging hours; I want to claim my wife!"
+
+Captain Carbury rose. He was a tall man, and I was, if anything, rather
+short for the modern girl.
+
+"Why, Heather," he said, looking down at me, his eyes dancing with
+pleasure and happiness, "I didn't realise until this minute that you
+were only a little girl."
+
+"Am I?" I said.
+
+"You have a tall effect," he remarked; "but you are little--on the
+_petite_ side."
+
+"That is, compared to you," I answered.
+
+"I am six foot one exactly," was his reply. "Heather, how dark your eyes
+are! and how delicate your complexion--and how very soft and beautiful
+is your hair! You resemble in some ways an Eastern princess, except that
+you have all the fire, and intelligence, and imagination of the West.
+You are my princess, Heather. Now, what are you going to say to me? You
+must flatter me, too, you know, although," he added, his voice becoming
+very serious, "there is no flattery in my present remarks. What are you
+going to say to me?" he inquired.
+
+"You are my prince," I said, looking up at him, and then looking down at
+once.
+
+"Your poor prince must have a name."
+
+"You are my prince, Captain Carbury."
+
+"Oh, come! What nonsense! You must say more."
+
+"If you wish it," I answered. "You are my prince----"
+
+"Well, go on."
+
+"Vernon."
+
+"There! I never knew I had so nice a name; simply because I have never
+heard it before from your sweet lips. Now, shall we get back to your
+house, otherwise her ladyship may be downstairs, and it happens to be
+Major Grayson whom I want to see."
+
+We walked quickly across the Park, and met Morris with her fresh basket
+of violets. She walked behind, and as we crossed the streets we kept
+rather close to each other, for although, of course, we did not touch,
+even once, over and over I repeated to my own heart, "Heather, you are
+engaged to Vernon Carbury--Heather, some day Vernon Carbury will be your
+husband--Vernon Carbury, Vernon Carbury. And yet, a few days ago, you
+hardly knew that you cared for him; but you know it now--yes, you know
+it now!"
+
+At last we reached Hanbury Square.
+
+There is no more fashionable square in the best part of the West of
+London, there are no finer houses to be found anywhere.
+
+I ran up the steps of the house, and Captain Carbury did likewise, and
+it was he who rang the bell.
+
+A powdered footman opened the door, and Captain Carbury said:
+
+"Is Major Grayson in?"
+
+"Major Dalrymple is in, sir."
+
+"Will you say that Captain Carbury has called to see him? Ask him if he
+will be good enough to give me a few moments of his time."
+
+The man opened the door of one of the sitting-rooms, and Vernon and I
+went in.
+
+"I dare not ask you to kiss me yet," he said; "but I will after--after I
+have seen your father."
+
+"Please, Vernon," I said.
+
+"What is it, my dearest darling?"
+
+"May I come with you to father?"
+
+"If you really wish it, of course you may; but I should prefer to be
+alone with him just now."
+
+Before either of us had time to utter another word the door was opened,
+and Lady Helen Dalrymple and my father entered the room side by side.
+
+Lady Helen gave a freezing bow to Captain Carbury, who was a very slight
+acquaintance of hers, and a more freezing stare at me; and then she
+said:
+
+"Will you have the goodness to go upstairs, Heather?"
+
+But Captain Carbury interfered.
+
+"If you will permit me, Lady Helen, I should like Miss Heather Grayson
+to remain where she is."
+
+He then approached my father, stood stock still for a minute, and then
+held out his hand. My father looked at him stiffly; then he spoke:
+
+"You know who I was, you know what happened to me, and you know exactly
+what I am now."
+
+"I know everything," said Captain Carbury.
+
+"Knowing everything, you wish to shake hands with me?"
+
+"I hope you will accept my hand," replied Captain Carbury.
+
+My father stretched his out, and Captain Carbury wrung it.
+
+"Well, of all the extraordinary things to happen!" began Lady Helen. She
+sank into a low chair, arranged herself comfortably and becomingly, and
+looked from father to Captain Carbury. Then again she glanced at me, and
+when she caught my eye she looked in the direction of the door; but I
+would not take her hint--at that moment I was past caring about her.
+
+"I have come, Major Grayson," said Vernon Carbury, "to speak to you
+under the name by which you were known, and honoured, and deeply
+respected in her late Majesty's army, and I wish to say at once that it
+is only as Major Grayson that I can treat with you in this matter. I am
+anxious that you should give me for all time the hand of your only
+child, Heather Grayson. I wish to make her my wife. I love her beyond
+words, and I believe she is not indifferent to me. I do not require any
+money with her; I am neither rich nor poor, but I have enough to support
+her, and I believe I can make her happy. I shall certainly endeavour to
+shelter her from the evils of this wicked world. It is true that I was
+for a short time engaged to another lady, but that engagement is broken
+off, with perfect satisfaction on both sides. I now beg of you to allow
+me to pay my addresses to your daughter, for I love her with all my
+heart and soul."
+
+"You amaze me," said my father.
+
+"And allow me to tell you, Captain Carbury," said Lady Helen, rising
+from her seat, and coming forward, "that my stepdaughter Heather is not
+for you, for she is now the affianced wife of Lord Hawtrey of Leigh."
+
+[Illustration: "'Allow me to tell you, Captain Carbury,' said Lady
+Helen, 'that my stepdaughter is not for you.'"]
+
+"That is not the case," I answered.
+
+Vernon Carbury had very bright eyes, and they flashed an angry fire; but
+when he turned and gave me a quick glance, and saw the fire of anger in
+my eyes, all indignation passed out of his. His eyes smiled.
+
+"Child," said my father, coming up to me, "this is not the place for
+you. I must request you, Heather, to leave us for the present."
+
+"Father! oh, father!" I said.
+
+I spoke exactly as I used to do when I was a little child. I took his
+hand and drew him imperiously outside the door.
+
+"Father," I whispered, "Lord Hawtrey did--oh, very, very kindly, too--he
+_did_ ask me last night to marry him, and oh! he was most good--but,
+darlingest Daddy, I could not marry him, for I do not love him one
+bit--I mean, not that way, Daddy. Why, Daddy, he is old enough to be my
+father, and I only want one father, and you are he; but I do--yes, I do
+care for Vernon Carbury. Please, please, father, think of our great
+unhappiness if we are parted, and of our wonderful joy if you allow us
+to be engaged to each other!"
+
+"I will do my utmost, my poor little one--my utmost," he answered.
+
+"Gordon, we are waiting for you," said Lady Helen's hard voice, and
+then he wrenched my hands away from his neck, and returned to the room
+where Lady Helen and my lover were to fight a battle for me. Oh, if only
+father would be strong and take my part!
+
+I ran up to my room and flung myself on my bed. Morris knocked at the
+door, but I told her to go away; I did not want her then; I did not want
+the flowers I had bought that morning. Flowers, love, sunshine; the joys
+of God's earth would all be as ashes in my mouth if my hero were
+banished. They were discussing me downstairs; they were tearing my love
+from me--oh, I could not bear it! My heart began to beat so fast that I
+could scarcely endure the thumping sensation which was going through my
+body. I longed to sleep, just because in sleep I might forget; I wanted
+the minutes to pass quickly.
+
+Suddenly I sat up; I began listening intently. In my distant bedroom I
+could hear no sound of what went on in the downstairs rooms. I flew to
+the window and opened it. Oh, he would not go away--he would see me,
+whatever happened he would see me--it would be impossible for him to go
+away without seeing me! Yes, we were made for each other, for was I not
+in his secret gallery of heroes, and was not he in mine? And could any
+mere human creature divide us? I thought of Lady Helen, with her hard,
+cruel face, and of my father. Father loved me, and I told him quite
+distinctly what I wanted, and I believe that he understood. Had he not
+always loved his own little Heather? Oh, it must be all right!
+
+Just then I heard, far away, like a distant sort of echo in the house, a
+door bang. Once again I rushed to the window--I did not mind who saw
+me--I opened it wide at the top, and put my head out. Captain Carbury
+was walking quickly down the street. Would he, by any possibility, look
+back? Would that invisible link between us cause him to raise his eyes
+until he saw my face? Would he look back, and look up? He did neither.
+At the first corner he abruptly turned, and was lost to view.
+
+"She has done it!" I said to myself. "Oh, how deeply I hate her! But I
+will never marry Lord Hawtrey, and I will marry Vernon--I will--for I
+love him with all my heart and soul!"
+
+The depth of my feelings, and the wildness of my anger, gave me courage.
+I rushed downstairs. I had the free run of every part of the house,
+except Lady Helen's boudoir; that door was shut. I was never expected
+to go in without knocking; I knocked now in frantic haste. A voice--a
+cold, surprised voice--said:
+
+"Who is there?"
+
+I repeated to myself the words "Who is there?" and the thought occurred
+to me that I should not be allowed to enter. They would shut me out,
+just as surely as they had torn me from the arms of the man I loved, so
+would they now--my father and Lady Helen--shut me from their
+consultations. I opened the door, therefore, and went boldly in.
+
+"You can see the person who was outside the door," I said, and then I
+walked straight up to my father, who was lying back in a deep chair, his
+legs crossed one over the other, his head resting against the back of
+the chair; his face was perturbed, and very red, his blue eyes bright.
+
+Lady Helen, on the contrary, was standing. She had a fan in her hand,
+and with it she was fanning her hot face. Why were they both so hot and
+indignant? Why did they look for all the world as though each hated the
+other?
+
+"I want to know," I said, "and I _will_ know, what you have done with
+Vernon Carbury."
+
+There was no response whatever to my question. It was received with
+deep and surprised silence by both my stepmother and my father. Then my
+father turned, looked at me, blinked his eyes a trifle, and, putting his
+hand out, drew me down to sit on the edge of his chair.
+
+"If, Gordon," said my stepmother, "you mean to make a fool of yourself
+over that most troublesome, refractory, and good-for-nothing girl, I
+will leave you with her. If you listen to her sentimental and silly
+remarks, I can at least go and rest in my room; but clearly understand
+what my view of this business is."
+
+"I have not uttered a word, Helen," replied my father.
+
+"Uttered!" said Lady Helen, a volume of scorn in her voice; "have not
+your eyes spoken, has not your hand spoken, has not your action spoken?
+That girl dares to come into my private room uninvited, and you
+encourage her."
+
+"I have come to ask about Captain Carbury," I said. "He is mine, and I
+want to know everything about him. Where is he--what have you done with
+him--have you sent him away? Why did he go away without speaking to me?
+I tell you he is mine. I _will_ see him."
+
+Lady Helen suddenly changed her manner. She sank into a chair and burst
+out laughing.
+
+"Gordon," she said, without taking the least notice of me, "may I
+venture to inquire the exact age of this little spitfire?"
+
+"How old are you, Pussy?" inquired my father.
+
+"As if that mattered!" I said. "I am a hundred years old, as far as
+feelings go."
+
+"But as far as the law goes," said Lady Helen, "I think, my dear, you
+will find that you are eighteen, and therefore a minor, and therefore
+unable to marry without the consent of your father and your stepmother.
+You will find that such is the case, Heather; you had better understand
+this at once."
+
+"Very well," I answered, "if that is really the law, and you won't give
+your consent--you, who are no relation to me at all--and if father won't
+give his consent, although he is a very near relation, then I shall do
+this: I shall wait until I am twenty-one; I know Vernon will wait, and
+then we will marry."
+
+Lady Helen laughed again.
+
+"You poor, silly, fickle child!" she said. "Don't you know perfectly
+well that you will fall in and out of love perhaps twenty times between
+now and the day that sees you of age? And don't you know, also, that
+Captain Carbury will do precisely the same? Has he not himself
+confessed as much? He was engaged to a girl who was fifty times a better
+match for him than you a few weeks ago; he is tired of her now; he and
+she have willingly broken off the engagement. For my part, I
+congratulate Lady Dorothy. I would not have anything to do with that
+fickle sort of man, not if he were to buy me a kingdom. And, mark my
+words, Heather, as surely as Vernon Carbury imagines that he cares for
+you at this moment, so surely will he forget you and turn his butterfly
+thoughts to someone else, when he meets a fairer face than yours. It is
+perfectly safe to give you leave to wait until you are twenty-one, for
+long before then, whatever you may choose to do--although I expect no
+strength about you, nor constancy, nor any of those so-called
+virtues--young Carbury himself will be married."
+
+"No, no, you are not to say it!" I answered. "Father, may I speak to you
+by yourself? Father, darling, may I?"
+
+"Your father is going out with me," said Lady Helen. "He is tired, and
+not very well, and I mean that we shall both motor into the country; we
+may be away even for to-night--there's no saying. We did not intend to
+tell you our position with regard to that exceedingly foolish and rash
+young man, until our return; but as you burst uninvited into my room, I
+may as well have it out, and then you will know how to act. Captain
+Carbury proposed for you, telling us the usual sort of nonsense that
+young men will speak on these occasions, and our answer to him was quite
+emphatic. We denied him admission to the house; we refused to entertain
+for a single moment the idea of your marrying him. We told him plainly
+that we had other views for you, and that nothing that he could say
+would get us to change them."
+
+"Did you tell him what those views were?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," said Lady Helen, "we did. We told him that Lord Hawtrey of Leigh,
+one of the best matches in London at present, had honoured you with a
+proposal of marriage, and that you would be his wife before the year was
+out."
+
+I looked at Lady Helen while she was speaking; then I put my arms round
+my father's neck, and hid my face on his shoulder. He began to pat me
+with his big hand softly on my arm. He said, in a very low tone, "Hush,
+now, sweetheart; hush, now. Things will come right in the end."
+
+But I could not listen. Lady Helen went on talking; I did not listen to
+her either. I was distressed beyond measure; I was distracted at what
+had happened. Lady Helen got up; she spoke very quietly:
+
+"I will leave you two," she said. "Gordon, I shall expect you to be
+ready for our drive in half an hour's time; meanwhile, you may pet your
+daughter as much as you please--perhaps you can tell her one or two
+things which will change her opinion of me. Meanwhile, I shall go to my
+room and rest."
+
+She swept out of the room; I heard the rustle of her silk petticoats.
+When the door closed behind her I raised my tear-dimmed face:
+
+"Daddy, Daddy," I said, "she can't dispose of me like that--she can't
+take the man I love away, Daddy, and make me marry against my will a man
+I don't like! Oh, darling, it isn't possible, is it?"
+
+"You shan't marry Hawtrey against your will--I promise you that," said
+my father.
+
+"Then, Daddy, it's all right, because I refused him last night--I
+refused him absolutely. He will never ask me again."
+
+"I think it likely that he will ask you many times, poor child."
+
+"He mustn't--he shan't! I won't see him."
+
+"Heather, listen to me. Sit up; don't give way. It cuts me to the heart
+to deny you anything, and I fully believe that Carbury is all right and
+as straight as possible. A gallant soldier, child--yes, a gallant
+soldier. Mark my words, there are no men in all the world like soldiers,
+Heather; they are the pick of the earth--so brave, so honourable, so
+true. That's what Carbury is, and if he were rich and in the same
+position as Hawtrey, you should be his wife with all the pleasure in the
+world. But, Heather, my poor little girl, I can't fight against such
+long odds. I could once, but, child, I am a broken man, a broken man,
+and I can't withstand her. She has got me into a sort of trap. She
+pretends she's done everything in the world for me; I was mad
+enough--oh! I won't speak of that--I am her husband now, and I suppose
+most people would think that I'd done well for myself--they'd revel in
+the contrast between my life of late and my life now, and say 'That
+beggar Grayson'--but there! I won't speak of it."
+
+"Daddy--has--Lady Helen--got ... I don't like to say--has she got a ...
+I mean, Daddy, are you a little--_tiny_ bit--you, a brave soldier--a
+little, tiny bit afraid of her?"
+
+"Afraid!" said my father. "Poof! not a bit of it. It is she who has
+cause to be afraid of me. I could--and, as there is a heaven above us, I
+will, too--frighten her into giving me some of my own way; yes, and I
+will, if she doesn't act fair by you, little girl."
+
+"Father, why don't you tell me things? You are hiding something."
+
+"Yes," said my father; "I am hiding something, and you must never
+know--never, as long as you live."
+
+"Daddy, my heart is broken."
+
+"Poor little maid! But you will get over it. And now I have something
+else to say. Lady Helen is not at all bad, and you would be extremely
+happy as Hawtrey's wife; he's a bit old, but he's a thorough gentleman,
+and you'd be very rich, and Helen would deal handsomely by you--she's
+promised that. She's very rich, too; I wish she wasn't. There's nothing
+in the world more hateful than depending upon your wife's money, and
+that's my cursed position. But if you promised to marry Hawtrey, she'd
+make things a bit square for you; she's settled to do that. It's awfully
+kind of her; it's downright generous; it's more than most people would
+expect. She'd do it in her lifetime, too; she'd settle twenty thousand
+on you--think of that, little Heather--twenty thousand is not to be
+despised."
+
+"Oh, father, if it's money, I don't care a bit about it!"
+
+"There she is," said my father, rising suddenly; "she is calling me.
+Wipe away your tears and run upstairs. To-night you must show a cheerful
+face--whatever happens in the future, you must be cheerful to-night. Off
+with you now, out of my sight. Believe me, I'd cut off my right hand to
+help you. Bye-bye for a bit, little sweetheart."
+
+My father left me. After a time I heard the "toot" of the motor-car as
+it puffed out of sight. Then I started to my feet, clasped my hands, and
+stood considering. There was something about me which could never stand
+inaction. If I were to be saved now from deadly peril, I must act. I was
+terribly upset; I was awfully miserable. All of a sudden I came to a
+resolve. I rang the bell; one of the footmen answered my summons.
+
+"I want you to bring me the cards of the different people who have
+called here during the last fortnight," I said.
+
+"Yes, miss," replied the man.
+
+He returned in a few minutes with a number of visiting cards on a
+salver. I sorted them out carefully, and presently came to Lord
+Hawtrey's. It bore the address of his club, one of the most exclusive
+and distinguished clubs in London, also the address of his big country
+seat--Leigh Castle--and in addition his town address, 24c, Green Street.
+
+"Lord Hawtrey is kind; he is the only one who can save me," I said to
+myself. I made up my mind then and there to go and visit him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+At that moment I had no thought of either right or wrong. I was
+determined to go straight forward and appeal to a very generous and
+chivalrous man to help me; I thought he could do it, and I believed that
+no one else in all the world would. I ran quickly upstairs--what a
+comfort it was to know that Morris was nowhere in sight, how delightful
+was the sensation of putting on my own hat and jacket, of tying a scarf
+round my neck and slipping my hands into my gloves. It was also
+perfectly delicious not to be obliged to look even once into the
+glass--little did I care at that moment how I looked!
+
+I had a small sealskin purse; I slipped the purse inside my muff and
+went downstairs. Soon it would be too warm to wear muffs, for the fine
+summer weather was fast approaching, but I was glad of mine to-day.
+Perhaps my sorrow had chilled me, for I felt rather cold. A taxi-cab
+came slowly by; I motioned to the man to stop. I got in, telling the
+driver to take me to 24c, Green Street, "And go as quickly as you can,"
+I said. I was all impatience, and the possibility of Lord Hawtrey being
+out did not once occur to me.
+
+We got to Green Street in a very few minutes and drew up at the right
+number. There was "24c," painted in most distinct lettering on the
+highly-enamelled door. The door was enamelled a very soft shade of
+green, and I thought it looked remarkably well. I also remarked the
+flower boxes in each of the windows and how fresh and smart the flowers
+looked, but somehow they did not please me. I supposed that Lord Hawtrey
+had a passion for flowers, otherwise he would never have given me those
+roses. I hated the memory of those roses now; this time yesterday how
+passionately I had loved them, but now I hated them. I had supposed that
+they had come from my own true love, and they had in reality been the
+gift of an old man who might have been my father, for so I considered
+Lord Hawtrey.
+
+I stepped out of the cab, paid the driver his fare, saw him move away,
+and then ran up the low flight of steps and rang the bell.
+
+"Is Lord Hawtrey in?" I asked of the man in livery who attended to my
+summons.
+
+A reply in the negative was instantly given to me.
+
+"His lordship is out, miss." The man gave me a cold stare. But I was far
+too excited to think about his manner.
+
+"Will he be in soon?" I asked. "I have come to see Lord Hawtrey on very
+important business."
+
+"If you will step inside, miss, I will make inquiries. May I ask if his
+lordship is expecting you?"
+
+"No," I answered. "This is Lady Helen Dalrymple's card; I have come from
+her house."
+
+The man took the card and gave me a second glance, which now showed
+absolute respect. How magical was the effect of my stepmother's name! I
+wondered at it. I was glad that I had put a few of her cards in my
+purse.
+
+In a very few minutes the servant returned to say that his lordship
+would be in almost immediately, and asking me if I would wish to wait in
+the white boudoir.
+
+I said yes. Little did I care where I waited at that instant. The
+servant conducted me upstairs to a pretty room, which must have been
+arranged for a lady's comfort. It was furnished in white. The walls were
+white, so was the furniture. The only bit of colour anywhere was a very
+soft, very bright crimson carpet, into which one's feet sank. The effect
+of the crimson carpet on the white room was extremely effective. There
+were no pictures round the walls, but there were a great many mirrors,
+so that as I entered I caught the reflection of myself from many points
+of view. I sat down on a low chair and was glad to find that I could no
+longer look at my small, tired face.
+
+The minutes passed; a little clock over the mantelpiece told me the
+time. Five minutes went by, ten, fifteen, then there was a sound
+downstairs, men's voices talking together, men laughing and chatting
+volubly, some ladies joining in their talk. Then there was a sudden kind
+of hush. All the visitors entered a room a considerable way off, and a
+minute later there was a hurried ascending of the stairs, the door was
+opened with a sort of impetuosity, and Lord Hawtrey, looking slightly
+flushed, surprised, and not altogether pleased, entered the room.
+
+"My dear Miss Dalrymple," he began, "I am amazed to see you here
+and--and charmed, of course--but is there anything wrong, is there
+anything I can do for you? What is it, my dear little girl?"
+
+Lord Hawtrey dropped his society manners on the spot. With his quick,
+kind eyes he read the distress on my face.
+
+"I want you to help me," I said, "I want to speak to you all alone--but
+you have brought visitors in. May I stay here until they go?"
+
+"Oh, no, that won't do at all. Of course, I should be delighted to talk
+to you now; let me think. My sister, Lady Mary Percy, is downstairs--I
+will see her. She will come and talk with you."
+
+"But it is you I want to see, Lord Hawtrey."
+
+"Leave the matter in my hands, dear child, I'll attend to everything. By
+the way, where is your stepmother and where is your father to-day?"
+
+"They have gone in the motor-car into the country."
+
+"I will see my sister; she will be with you in a minute or two."
+
+Lord Hawtrey left the room. I felt puzzled and distressed. I wondered if
+I had done wrong. A very few moments passed and then the same servant
+who had admitted me appeared, bearing a charming little tray which held
+afternoon tea for two.
+
+"Lady Mary Percy will be here in a moment, miss," he said, "she desires
+you not to wait for her."
+
+I did wait. I did not want tea, nor did I want to see Lady Mary, but in
+a very few minutes, true to the servant's words, she appeared. She was a
+very pretty woman, and looked quite young beside her brother. She had a
+kind, thoughtful face, a high-bred face, the face of one who had never
+in the whole of her life thought of anything except what was good and
+noble. I was certain of that the moment I saw her. I was glad now that
+Lord Hawtrey had asked her to come to me. In my excitement I forgot that
+she must think my conduct strange, and must wonder what sort of a girl
+I, Heather Dalrymple, was. She came up to me and held out her hand, then
+she looked into my face.
+
+"Lord Hawtrey has begged of me to come and see you. Shall we have some
+tea together?"
+
+She sat down at once and poured out tea for us both. She offered me a
+cup, and I felt that I should be very rude if I refused it. It was with
+difficulty I could either eat or drink, but Lady Mary seemed to expect
+me to do so, and for her sake I made an effort. The tea did me good, for
+it was strong and fragrant, the bread and butter was delicious, it did
+me good also. I felt more like a child and less like an anguished,
+storm-tossed woman than I had done before that meal. When it came to an
+end Lady Mary touched a silver gong, and presently a woman, dressed
+beautifully all in white, and whom Lady Mary called Blanche, appeared.
+
+"Take these things away, please, Blanche," she said, "and order my
+carriage to be at the door in half an hour."
+
+"Yes, my lady," replied Blanche.
+
+She removed the tea things, the door was shut behind her, and Lady Mary
+and I faced each other.
+
+"Now," she said, "you had better tell me what you intended to say to my
+brother, Lord Hawtrey. I can see that you are in trouble, and I should
+very much like to help you."
+
+"Oh, but it is impossible to tell you," I replied.
+
+The colour rushed into my cheeks, then it receded, leaving them very
+pale. I knew they were pale, for I felt so cold.
+
+Lady Mary changed her seat. She came over, took a low chair, seated
+herself by my side, and stretching out her hand, clasped one of mine in
+hers.
+
+"Dear," she said, in a gentle tone, "you are very young, are you not?"
+
+"I suppose so," I answered, "but I do not feel so. I am eighteen."
+
+"Ah! But eighteen is extremely young; I know that, who am twenty-eight;
+my brother Hawtrey is forty."
+
+"I know," I said, "your brother is old, is he not? I thought I might
+come to see a kind old man. Have I done wrong?"
+
+"No, child, you have not done wrong; nevertheless, you have done
+something that the world would not approve of. Now, I want you to come
+away to my house. I live in another part of London; in my house you can
+see my brother if you wish, but why do you not confide in me? I should
+like to be your friend."
+
+I looked straight up at her. After all, she was nearer to my own age.
+Could I not tell her? I said impulsively:
+
+"I will go away to your house with you and I will tell you there, and
+you can advise me what I ought really to do."
+
+"Yes, I am sure that will be much the wisest plan. And now let us talk
+of other matters."
+
+She began to chat in a light, winsome voice. After a time she begged of
+me to excuse her and went downstairs. She came back again in a few
+minutes.
+
+"I have told my brother that you would tell me what you intended to say
+to him, and he is quite pleased with the idea," she said, "and my
+carriage is now at the door, so shall we go?"
+
+"Yes," I answered.
+
+We went downstairs together. We entered a very luxurious carriage, which
+was drawn by a pair of spirited bay horses. In a few minutes we found
+ourselves in another part of fashionable London. I cannot even to this
+day recall the name of the street. The house was not at all unlike Lord
+Hawtrey's house; it was furnished with the same severity, and the same
+excellent taste. Lady Mary took me into a little boudoir, which was
+destitute of knick-knacks and bric-à-brac. But it had many flowers, and,
+what I greatly enjoyed, a comfortable sense of space. My hostess drew a
+cushioned chair forward and desired me to sit in it; I did so. Then she
+seated herself and took one of my hands.
+
+"Your story, Miss Heather Dalrymple?" she said.
+
+"I will tell you," I answered. "Perhaps you will be dreadfully angry,
+but I cannot help it, you must know. I am eighteen and Lord Hawtrey is
+forty. I think Lord Hawtrey one of the best men in all the world; he is
+so kind and he has such a beautiful way with him. Last night he dined at
+our house and afterwards he came to see me quite by myself, and he spoke
+as no other man ever spoke to me before, only you must understand,
+please, and not be angry, that I could not do what he wanted. He wanted
+a very young girl like me, a girl who knows nothing at all of life,
+to--to marry him. Do you think that was fair or right, Lady Mary Percy?"
+
+Lady Mary's brown eyes seemed to dance in her head. It was with an
+effort she suppressed something which might have been a smile or might
+have been a frown. After a minute's silence she said gently:
+
+"It altogether depends on the girl to whom such a speech is addressed."
+
+"I know that," I answered, "but this girl, the girl who is now talking
+to you ... I cannot even try to explain to you what a simple life I have
+lived--just the very quietest, and with a dear, dear old lady, who is
+poor, and doesn't know anything about the luxuries of the rich people of
+London. She has brought me up, during all the years I have been with
+her, to think nothing whatsoever of riches; she has got that idea so
+firmly into my mind that I don't think it can be uprooted. So whatever
+happens, I am not likely to care for Lord Hawtrey because he is rich,
+nor to care for him because he is a nobleman or has high rank, or
+anything of that sort. I said to him last night: 'You don't want to
+force me to be your wife,' and he answered, 'You must come to me of your
+own free will.' Well, it is just this, Lady Mary. I can never come to
+him of my own free will, never, never!"
+
+"He told me, child," said Lady Mary, in a quiet, low, very level sort of
+voice, "that he had spoken to you. I was a good deal astonished; I
+thought the advantages were on your side. You must forgive me; you have
+spoken frankly to me, it is my turn to speak frankly to you--I thought
+the disadvantages were on his side. A very young, innocent, ignorant
+girl, I did not think a suitable wife for my brother, but he assured me
+that he loved you, he assured me also that there was something about you
+which wins hearts. That being the case, I--well, I said no more. Now you
+speak to me as though I earnestly desired this marriage. I do not
+earnestly desire it--I don't wish for it at all."
+
+"Then you will prevent it? How splendid of you!" I said, and I bent
+forward as though I would kiss her hand.
+
+She moved slightly away from me. She was in touch with me, but not
+altogether in touch at that moment.
+
+"I will tell you what has really happened," I said. "I must. I admire
+your brother beyond words, I know how tremendously he has honoured me,
+and I think somehow, if things were different, that I might feel tempted
+to--just to do what he wants. But things are so circumstanced that I
+cannot possibly do what Lord Hawtrey wishes, for I love another man. He
+is quite young, he--he and I love each other tremendously. He asked me
+this morning to be his wife and I accepted him. I was in the Park when I
+met him, and he asked me there and then. We walked home together, my
+maid was with us, so I suppose it was all right. This is a very queer
+world, where there seems no freedom for any young girl. I brought Vernon
+Carbury----"
+
+"Whom did you say?"
+
+"Captain Carbury, I mean. I brought him into the room with my father and
+mother--or my stepmother--and--he told them what he wanted. They sent me
+away--I was rather frightened when they did that--and when they had him
+all alone they spoke to him and they told him that he was to go out of
+my life, because, Lady Mary, your brother, Lord Hawtrey, was to come
+in. They said that they wanted me to marry your brother, and I won't--I
+can't--and I much want you to help me in this matter."
+
+"Upon my word!" said Lady Mary. She rose abruptly and began to pace the
+room. "You are the queerest girl I ever met! There must be some queer
+sort of witchery about you. On a certain night you are proposed to by my
+brother Hawtrey, the head of our house, one of the richest men in
+England, and certainly one of the most nobly born. You snub him, just as
+though he were a nobody. On the following morning you receive a proposal
+from Vernon Carbury, he who was engaged to Lady Dorothy Vinguard."
+
+"Yes, but all that is at an end," I said.
+
+"I know, I know. Dorothy is not a perfectly silly girl like you, and she
+is marrying a man older and richer and greater than Carbury. And so you
+have fallen in love with him? Yes, I know; those blue eyes of his would
+be certain to make havoc in more than one girl's heart. It is a pretty
+tale, upon my word it is, and out of the common. Now you have confided
+things to me, I don't think Hawtrey will trouble you any more; perhaps I
+can see to that. Would you like to go back home--and before you go, is
+there anything I can do for you?"
+
+"No, oh, no," I said, "you have made me quite happy!"
+
+"I am glad of that. You are a very strange girl; I suppose you will
+marry Captain Carbury some day. You are, of course, quite unaware of the
+fact that Hawtrey must have loved you beyond the ordinary when he made
+up his mind to take as a wife the daughter of Major Grayson?"
+
+I sprang to my feet.
+
+"What do you mean by those words?"
+
+"Don't you know, child, don't you know?"
+
+"I know nothing, except that my father is the best man in all the
+world."
+
+Lady Mary looked at me, at first with scorn, then a strange, new,
+softened, pitying expression flashed over her face.
+
+"You poor little girl!" she said. "Have you never suspected, have you
+never guessed, why he married Lady Helen Dalrymple, and why he took her
+name, and why----"
+
+"Don't tell me any more," I said, "please don't, I would rather not
+know. Good-bye--you have been kind, you have meant to be very kind, but
+you are hinting at something quite awful--all the same, I will find
+out--yes, I will find out! My father do a mean thing! Indeed, you little
+know him. Good-bye, Lady Mary."
+
+"Stay, child; the carriage must take you home."
+
+"No, I will walk," I said.
+
+My heart was burning within me. I really thought that I should break
+down, but although I heard Lady Mary ring her bell, and passed an
+astonished servant coming up the stairs in answer to her summons, I
+managed to get into the street before she could interfere. I was glad of
+this. I must walk, I must get away from myself, I must find out once for
+all what terrible thing was the matter--what secret there was in my
+father's life.
+
+I walked and walked, and was so absorbed in myself and my own
+reflections, that I was quite oblivious of the fact that people glanced
+at me from time to time. I had not the manner of a London girl, and did
+not wear the dress of the sort of girl who walks about London
+unattended. At last I came to a big park--I think now it must have been
+Regent's Park, but I am by no means sure. The trees looked cool and
+inviting, the grass was green, there were broad paths and, of course,
+there were flowers everywhere. It occurred to me then, as I entered the
+park and sat down on a low seat not far from the water, that I could not
+possibly do better in existing circumstances than go back to Aunt
+Penelope. If I could only see Aunt Penelope once more I should know what
+to do, and I should force her to tell me my father's story.
+
+"It is positively wrong to keep it from me," I thought; "I cannot act in
+the dark, I cannot endure this suspense; whatever has happened, he is
+right, he is good, he is splendid and noble. Nothing would induce me to
+believe anything against him."
+
+I took my purse out of my pocket, and opening it, spread its contents on
+the palm of my hand. I had three pounds in my purse, plenty of money,
+therefore, to go back to the dear little village where I had been
+brought up.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+I think God gave me great courage that day, for I really acted like a
+girl who was accustomed to going about by herself, who knew her way
+about London, and who was saving with regard to money matters. I had
+come out of one of the richest houses in London; I had left a house
+where I was attended all day and practically half the night, where
+my slightest wish was considered, where the most beautiful clothes
+were given to me, and the most lovely things--that is, to all
+appearance--happened to me. I went out of that awful house, which I
+hated, which I loathed, just because it was so rich, so stifling with
+luxury, and felt that each minute I was becoming a woman, and that soon,
+very soon, I should be quite grown up.
+
+I got to Paddington Station and took the first train to Cherton. Cherton
+is not far from a great centre, and, as a rule, you have to change
+trains and get into a "local" before you can arrive at the little
+old-world place. I travelled third, of course, and had quite an
+interesting journey. My compartment was full and I enjoyed looking at
+my companions. They were the sort of people who do travel third--I mean
+they were the sort of people who have a right to travel third. A great
+many ladies now go third-class when they ought to go second or first,
+but these people had a right to their third-class compartment, and
+thoroughly they seemed to enjoy themselves. They brought parcels
+innumerable; some of them brought birds in cages. There was a small,
+sharp-looking boy who had a pet weasel in his pocket. The weasel thrust
+out his head now and then and looked at us with his cunning bright eyes,
+and then darted back once more into his place of shelter. The boy looked
+intensely happy with his weasel; in fact, the creature seemed to
+comprise all his world. I managed to enter into conversation with the
+boy, and he told me that he was going to Cherton to be apprenticed to an
+old uncle of his; he was to learn the boot and shoe business and was to
+make a good thing of it, so that he might be rich enough to help his
+father and mother by and by. He had nice, honest, brown eyes, and when I
+asked him his name he said that he was called Jack Martin, but that most
+of his friends called him Jack Tar. They all thought he would fail--all
+except Sam--but Sam prognosticated his success. I asked the boy who
+"Sam" was, and he answered in his simple, direct way:
+
+"Why, he's my best pal, lydy."
+
+I liked the little fellow when he answered in that fashion, and told him
+in a low voice that I was also going to Cherton, that I had spent many
+years in that little, out-of-the-world village, and that I was going to
+seek my aunt. He was much interested, and we became so chummy that he
+offered me the loan of "Frisky," as he called the weasel, for a short
+time, if I'd be very kind to it. I thanked him much for the honour he
+meant to confer on me, but explained that I was not in the habit of
+carrying weasels about with me, and perhaps would not understand
+"Frisky's" manners.
+
+"He's a rare 'un for giving you a nip," said the boy in reply, "but Lor'
+bless yer, that don't matter. There's nothing wicious about he."
+
+The other people in the carriage were also interested in the boy, and
+even more so in "Frisky," who by and by extended his peregrinations from
+one person to another, nibbling up a few crumbs of cake, and putting
+away with disdain morsels of orange peel, and altogether behaving like a
+well-behaved weasel of independent mind. The boy said he hoped "Frisky"
+would be allowed to sleep in his bed at his uncle's place, and the women
+sympathised, the men also expressing their hearty wishes on the subject.
+
+"And why not?" said one very burly-looking farmer. "I'd a whole nest of
+'em once, and purtier little dears I never handled."
+
+The third-class carriage was, indeed, packed full; the endless luggage,
+the boxes little and big, boxes that went on the rack and boxes that
+would not go on the rack, but stuck out all over the narrow passage and
+got into everyone's way. There were shawls, and a pretty bird in a cage,
+and a white rabbit in another cage, and bundles innumerable. But
+everyone talked and laughed and became chatty and agreeable. The boy was
+the first to tell his story. It was a very simple one. He was poor; his
+father and mother had just saved up money enough to apprentice him to
+Uncle Ben Rogers. He was going to him; he was off his parents now, and
+would never trouble them again, God helping him.
+
+By and by the people in the carriage turned their attention full on me.
+They had confided their histories each to the other, their simple
+stories of love and of hate, of ill-nature and of good-nature, of stormy
+days of privation and full days of plenty. Now it was my turn. I was
+assailed by innumerable questions. "Why did I wear such smart clothes?
+Where did I get the feather that was in my hat? Why did I, being a lydy,
+travel with the likes of them?"
+
+I told these good, kind creatures that I loved to travel with them, and
+that I hated wealth and grand people. I said also that I was going back
+to a kind aunt of mine, who hated fine clothes as much as I was
+beginning to hate them, and that I earnestly hoped she would let me stay
+with her. I said that I was a very miserable girl, and then they all
+pitied me, and one woman said, "Poor thing, poor, pretty young thing!"
+and another took my hand and squeezed it, and said, "Bear up, my deary,
+God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb." I did not exactly know what she
+meant, but I took comfort from her kindly words and kindly face. And so
+at last we got out at the big junction and then I took the little train
+to Cherton. One or two of my fellow-travellers, amongst others the boy
+with the weasel, accompanied me. He was looking a little nervous, and
+when I said:
+
+"I'll come and see you some day," his little woebegone face brightened
+up considerably, and he answered:
+
+"Don't forget, lydy, as I'm mostly known as Jack Tar, although I was
+never at sea in the whole course of my life; but my father makes tar,
+and I was christened Jack, so what could be more likely than that I
+should be called Jack Tar?" He then added again that his real name was
+Martin; but that was no use to him at all, he was always "Jack Tar," and
+he would not like to be anything else.
+
+I smiled at the boy and we parted the best of friends. Cherton looked
+perfectly lovely. It was just the crown of the year, that time in early
+May when, if the weather is fine, the whole world seems to put out her
+brightest and sweetest fragrance. The may trees were not yet in bloom,
+it is true, but the blackthorn was abundant, and as to the primroses and
+violets, they seemed to carpet the place. My heart beat faster and
+faster. Oh, the old streets, and the little town, and the happy,
+peaceful life I had led here! Would Aunt Penelope be glad to see me? Of
+course she would. She was not a demonstrative old woman, but she was
+good to me; she, of course, had been very good to me. From the time she
+had taken me--a tiny, motherless girl--from my father, she had done her
+best in her own fashion for me. After all, I had not been so long away
+from her, only a few months; but so much had been crowded into those
+months that the time seemed years.
+
+I had--I knew quite well--stepped from childhood into womanhood. My eyes
+had been opened to discern good from evil, but I was glad of that; I was
+glad, more than glad, that Cherton meant good to me, and that London
+meant evil. I recalled the first time I had come to Cherton and what a
+miserable little child I had been, and how I had rushed away, all by
+myself, to the railway station to meet the train by which Anastasia was
+to come. Things were different now. Now Cherton meant home, and I had, I
+will own it, almost forgotten Anastasia.
+
+At last I mounted the little hill which led to Hill View, Aunt
+Penelope's house. I wondered if the same Jonas would open the door for
+me who had parted with me with many tears on the morning when I had gone
+with such a light heart to join my father in London. I reached the
+little brown house. It looked exactly the same as ever, only that, of
+course, the spring flowers were coming out. There were a great many
+ranunculuses in the garden, and the irises were coming out of their
+sheaths and putting on their purple bloom, and there were heaps and
+heaps of tulips of different shades and colour. These were real flowers;
+these were the sort that I loved, the sort that Vernon Carbury would
+love if he saw them. These were very different from the hothouse roses
+and the flowers of rare beauty which decorated Lord Hawtrey's house.
+
+I walked up the path which led to the front door with the confident step
+of a girl who is returning home; I rang the door bell. At first there
+was silence, no one replied to my summons; then a head was pushed out of
+a door down the area, there was a muffled exclamation, and somebody came
+scampering up the stairs, and there--yes, there--was the old Jonas
+waiting for me!
+
+"Jonas," I said, "don't you know me?"
+
+"Miss Heather," he answered. His face grew scarlet, and then turned very
+white; the next minute, forgetting altogether his position, he took both
+my hands and dragged me into the house.
+
+"Was it in answer to the big prayer that you've come?" he said. "Speak,
+and speak at once. I'm a Methody, I be. I had a big prayer last night; I
+wrestled with the Lord for you to come back. Was it in answer to that
+you come?"
+
+"Perhaps so, I don't know--who can tell? Oh, Jonas! is anything wrong?"
+
+"Stop knocking at the door!" shouted a familiar voice, and then I gave a
+scream, half of pleasure, half of pain, and dashed into the parlour and
+went up to Polly. I could not be afraid of her any longer, and although
+she was not at all a friendly bird to me, and never had been during all
+the years I had lived with her, yet she was so far subdued at present
+that she allowed me to ruffle the feathers on the top of her grey head.
+
+"Where's Aunt Penelope?" I said then, turning to Jonas.
+
+"Upstairs in bed. The doctor he come and the doctor he goes and I do
+what I can, but 'tain't much. She's off her feed and she's off her luck,
+and she's in bed. She's got me in to tidy up this morning, she did so.
+She said, 'Jonas, it ain't correct, but it must be done; you bring in
+your broom and tea leaves and sweep up,' she said, 'and then dust,' she
+said, 'and I will lie buried under the clothes, so that you won't see a
+bit of my head. It's quite a decent thing to do when it's done like
+that, Jonas; and don't make any bones about it, for it's to be done.' So
+I done her up as best I could, and oh, my word! the room did want it
+badly. There now, that's her bell. Doctor says she should stay in bed
+and not stir, but she hears voices, and she's that mad with curiosity.
+Doctor thinks maybe she's going; doctor don't like her state, but I does
+the best I can. I'm getting her beef-tea ready for her now, Miss
+Heather, and maybe you'll take it up to her. It's you she's been
+fretting for; she's never held up her head since you went, but don't you
+go to suppose she spoke of you. No, she never once did. But her
+head--she never kept it up. Don't you fret about her, Miss Heather; you
+have come back, and it's in answer to prayer. Now then, come along with
+me into the kitchen. I'll shout at her to let her know I'm here, but
+I'll not mention your name. Coming, ma'am--heating up the
+beef-tea--coming in a twink! There, Miss Heather, she'll know now I'm
+coming, and you--you get along to the kitchen as fast as you can and
+watch me, to see as I does it right."
+
+I went with Jonas to the little old-world kitchen. He really was not a
+bad boy, this present Jonas, for the kitchen, seeing that its mistress
+was so long out of it, was fairly clean, and his attempt at making
+beef-tea was fairly good, after all. While Jonas was warming the
+beef-tea and making a tiny piece of toast, I removed my hat and jacket
+and smoothed my hair, and when the refreshment was ready I took it
+upstairs with me, up and up the narrow, short flight of creaking stairs.
+I passed my own tiny bedroom, and there was Aunt Penelope's room, facing
+the stairs. I opened the door very softly and stood for a second on the
+threshold.
+
+"Now, what is it?" said a cantankerous voice. "Jonas, you're off your
+head. It's just because I admitted you to my bedroom to-day to sweep and
+dust. But come in, don't be shy. There is nothing against your coming
+into the room with an old lady. You can lay the tray on the table and
+walk out again without looking at me."
+
+"It isn't Jonas," I said, standing half-hidden by the door,
+"it's--it's--Heather. I have come back, auntie."
+
+The moment I said the words I went right in. Aunt Penelope drew herself
+bolt upright in bed. She did look a very withered, very ill, and very
+neglected old lady. Her face was hard and stern, but in her eyes that
+moment there burnt the light of love. Those eyes looked straight into
+mine.
+
+"Heather, you're back?"
+
+"Yes, of course I am, auntie, and now you must take your beef-tea and
+tell me all about everything. How are you, darling, and why did you get
+ill, and why did you never write or send for your own child,
+Heather?--and, oh! you have been naughty! But I have come back, and I
+mean to stay for just as long as you want me."
+
+"Then that will be for ever and ever, Amen," said Aunt Penelope. She
+laid her hot, dry old hand in mine, and she raised her face for me to
+kiss her. I stooped and did so, and then I said, almost sternly, for it
+was my turn now to take the upper hand--
+
+"You will have to allow me to wait on you; and you're not to talk at
+all, nor to expect any news from me whatsoever, until you have had your
+beef-tea, and until I have made you comfortable. Dear, dear, you do want
+your child Heather, very badly, auntie."
+
+"Badly," said Aunt Penelope. "I wanted you, Heather, unto death--unto
+death, but _he_ said that you were to come when the season was over. I
+counted that perhaps you'd come in August. It's only May now, and the
+season has just begun. I counted for August, although I scarcely
+expected to live."
+
+"No more talking," I said, trying to be stern, although it was very
+difficult, and then I sat on the edge of the bed and watched Aunt
+Penelope as she sipped her beef-tea and ate some morsels of toast.
+
+I forgot myself as I watched her. My own sufferings seemed to be far
+away and of no consequence. My tired heart settled down suddenly into a
+great peace. I was home once more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+When Aunt Penelope had finished her little meal, I proceeded to get
+fresh linen from the linen cupboard upstairs, and fresh, clean towels; I
+also went down to the kitchen and brought up a big can of hot water, and
+then I proceeded to wash her face and hands and to change her linen and
+make her bed, and altogether refresh the dear old lady. How I loved
+doing these things for her! I felt quite happy and my own trouble
+receded into the background with this employment. When I had done all
+that was necessary, the doctor, the same who had attended me so often in
+my childish ailments, came in. He was delighted to see me, and gave me a
+most hearty welcome.
+
+"Miss Heather," he said, "you are good. Now this is delightful--now I
+have every hope of having my old friend on her feet once more."
+
+Aunt Penelope gave him one of her grim smiles--she could not smile in
+any other way if she were to try for a hundred years. The doctor
+examined her, felt her pulse, took her temperature, said that she was
+decidedly better, ordered heaps of nourishment, and desired me to follow
+him downstairs.
+
+"What possessed you to come back, Miss Grayson?" he said, when we found
+ourselves together in the little drawing-room.
+
+I told him that I had not come back because the news of Aunt Penelope's
+illness had reached me, but for a quite different reason, and one which
+I could not divulge, even to him.
+
+"But that is very strange," he said, "for I wrote three days ago to ask
+your father to send you back immediately. I was quite tired out
+expecting you and wondering at your silence. I would not tell the dear
+old lady for fear of disappointing her. Your coming back of your own
+accord and without hearing anything is really most extraordinary, _most_
+astounding. But, there! you have come, and now it's all right."
+
+"You may be certain, doctor," I replied, "that I will do my utmost for
+Aunt Penelope, and that she shall want for nothing as long as I can
+obtain it for her."
+
+"Good girl; you are a good girl, Heather," he replied; "you are doing
+the right thing, and God will bless you. I may as well tell you that I
+was exceedingly anxious about your aunt this morning. You see, she had
+nobody to look after her; that boy did his best, but he couldn't be
+expected to know, and when I suggested a nurse, or even a charwoman,
+bless me, child, she nearly ate my head off! She is a troublesome old
+woman, is your aunt, Miss Heather, but a most worthy soul. Well, it's
+all right now, and my mind is much relieved."
+
+I went upstairs a few minutes later to find Aunt Penelope sitting up in
+bed and looking wonderfully fresh and cheerful.
+
+"Now just sit down by me, Heather," she said, "and tell me the news. Why
+have you come back? I made up my mind that I'd keep my vow and promise
+to your father not to ask for you, even if I died without seeing you,
+until August."
+
+"But that was very wrong of you, auntie, and you ought not to be at all
+proud of yourself for having made such a vow."
+
+"Well, I made it, and I'm the last sort of woman to break my word. But
+you have come back, so it's all right now. Did you dream about me or
+anything of that sort?"
+
+"Oh, no," I answered. "I came back, dear auntie--I came back of my own
+accord."
+
+"What!" said Aunt Penelope. "Heather, child, I am not very strong, and
+you mustn't startle me. You don't mean to say, you don't mean to hint,
+that you--you aren't happy with your father?"
+
+"I'd be always happy with father," I answered, "always, always. But the
+fact is, I don't think, Auntie Pen, dear, I don't think I love my
+stepmother very much."
+
+"Thank the Lord for that!" exclaimed Miss Penelope. "She must be a
+horror, from all I can gather."
+
+"I don't like her, auntie."
+
+"You ran away, then? Is that what you mean? They'll be coming for you,
+they'll be trying to get you back; I know their ways, Heather. But now
+that you are here, you must promise to stay with me until the worst is
+over; you will promise, won't you? I don't pretend to deny, child, that
+I have missed you a good bit, yes, a very great deal. I am a proud old
+woman, but I don't mind owning that I have fretted for you, my child,
+considerably."
+
+"And I for you," I replied. "I am happy in the old house: I am glad to
+have returned."
+
+"I am not too weak to learn the truth," said Aunt Penelope. "I have, in
+my humble opinion, the first right to you, for it was I who trained you
+and who gave you what little education you possess; therefore I hold
+that I have a right. What did that woman do, why did you run away from
+her? As to your father, poor chap--well, of course, he's bound heart and
+soul to the horrible creature, but that's what comes from doing wrong.
+Your father did a very bad thing and----"
+
+"Aunt Penelope," I interrupted--I took her hand and held it
+firmly--"don't--don't tell me to-night."
+
+She looked at me out of her hard, bright eyes, then seemed to collapse
+into herself, then said slowly--
+
+"Very well, I won't, I won't tell you to-night, that is, if you promise
+to say why you have returned."
+
+"I will tell you," I answered. "Auntie, Lady Helen's house is the world,
+and you taught me to despise the world; you taught me not to spend my
+time and my money on dress and grand things; you taught me not to waste
+such a short, valuable, precious thing as life. Oh, Aunt Penelope, in
+that house people do nothing but kill time, and my Daddy is in it--my
+own Daddy! You know how brisk he used to be, how bright, how determined,
+but now--something seems to be eating into his heart, and breaking his
+strength and spirit--and--people have hinted things about him!"
+
+Aunt Penelope nodded her head.
+
+"They're likely to," she answered. "Major Grayson could not expect
+matters to be otherwise."
+
+"But, auntie, that is one of the hardest things of all. My darling
+father is not even called Major Grayson--he has to take the name of
+Dalrymple."
+
+"What!" said Aunt Penelope. "Does he dare to be ashamed of his father's
+honest name?"
+
+"I don't understand," I answered. "But I am called Dalrymple,
+too--Heather Dalrymple."
+
+"Don't repeat the words again, child; they make a hideous combination."
+
+"Well," I continued, "the house did not please me nor the people who
+came to it, and I hardly ever saw father, and I lived my own life. Lady
+Carrington was very kind to me, and I went to her when I could, but my
+stepmother was impatient, and did not want me to spend my time with her,
+and she put obstacles in the way, so that I could not see my kind friend
+very often. Still, I had no idea of deserting father and of going back
+to you; the thought of returning to you only came to me to-day--to-day,
+when I was in awful agony. Oh, auntie, dear, I can put it into a few
+words. I have met--I have met at Lady Carrington's house one----"
+
+"You're in love, child," said Aunt Penelope. "I might have guessed it,
+it is the way of most women. I had half hoped that you'd escape. I never
+fell in love--I would not let myself."
+
+"Oh, but if the right man came along, you could not help it," I replied.
+
+"Then you think he is the right man--you have found your Mr. Right?"
+
+"Yes, I have found the one whom I love with all my heart and soul; he is
+good. You would love him, too--but there's another man----"
+
+"Two! God bless me!" said Aunt Penelope. "In my day a girl thought
+herself lucky if she found one man to care for her, but two! It doesn't
+sound proper."
+
+"The other man is rich, and--oh, he's nice, he's awfully nice, only he
+is old--I won't tell you his name, there is no use--but Lady Helen
+wanted me to marry the rich old man, and to give up the young man whom I
+love, and--and father seemed to wish it, too--and somehow, auntie
+darling, I can't do it--I can't--so I have run away to you."
+
+"Where you will stay," said my aunt, speaking in a firm and cheery
+voice, "until the Lord wills to show me clearly the right in this
+matter. You marry an old man whom you don't love, my sister's child
+exposed to such torture as that!--child, I am glad you came to me, you
+anyway showed a gleam of common sense."
+
+"And you have taken me in," I answered, "and I'm ever so happy; it is
+home to be back with you."
+
+Thus ended my first evening with Aunt Penelope. That night I slept again
+in my little old bed in my tiny chamber, and so kindly do we revert to
+the old times and to the things of youth that I felt more at home in
+that little bed and slept sounder there than I had done since I left it.
+I had gone out into the world, and the world had treated me badly. I was
+not destined, however, to stay long in peace and quietness at Aunt
+Penelope's. On the very next day there arrived a letter from my father.
+I recognised the handwriting, and as I carried Aunt Penelope up her tea
+and toast and her lightly-boiled fresh egg, I took the letter also,
+guessing in my heart of hearts what its contents were.
+
+"Here is a letter from father, auntie," I said.
+
+She looked into my face and immediately opened it. She was decidedly on
+the mend that morning: she said she had slept very well. As I stood by
+her bedside she calmly read the letter, then she handed it to me; I also
+read the few words scribbled on it:--
+
+     We are in great perplexity and very unhappy, Penelope. My dear wife
+     and I returned unexpectedly from Brighton last night, and found
+     that Heather had been out all day. Her maid was in a distracted
+     state. I am writing to know if by any chance she has gone back to
+     you? I have just been to Carrington's; she is not with them. I
+     think the child would probably go to you; in any case, will you
+     send me a telegram on receipt of this, to say if she is with you or
+     not?
+
+     Your unhappy brother-in-law,
+
+     GORDON GRAYSON.
+
+"What do you mean to do?" I said to Aunt Penelope, as I laid the letter
+back again on her breakfast tray.
+
+"Leave it to me," she said. "You're but a silly sort of child, and never
+half know what you ought to be doing. You want wiser heads than your own
+to guide you."
+
+"But you won't tell him--you won't tell him?" I repeated.
+
+Aunt Penelope made no remark, but began munching her toast with
+appetite.
+
+"You do cook well, Heather," she said. "Although you are a society girl
+I can see that you'll never forget the lessons I imparted to you."
+
+"I hope not," I answered.
+
+"I consider you a very sensible girl." Here Aunt Penelope began to
+attack her egg.
+
+"Really?" I answered.
+
+"Yes, very. You have acted with judgment and forethought; I am pleased
+with you, I don't attempt to deny it. Now then, what do you say to my
+telling your father exactly where you are?"
+
+"But, of course, you won't--you could not."
+
+"Don't you bother me about what I won't or I could not do, for I tell
+you I will do anything in the world that takes my fancy, and my fancy at
+the present moment is to see you through a difficult pass. I don't trust
+Gordon Grayson--could not, after what has happened."
+
+"Auntie! _How_ can you speak like that!"
+
+"There you go, flying out for no reason at all. Now, please tell me,
+what sort of person is that young man you care for--I hate to repeat the
+word love. To 'care for' a man is _quite_ sufficient before marriage; of
+course, you may do what you like afterwards--anyhow, you care for or
+love, forsooth! this youth. What is he like?"
+
+"Just splendid," I said. "I have put him into my gallery of heroes."
+
+"Oh, now you are talking rubbish! Is he the sort of man your dear
+mother, my blessed sister, would have approved of your marrying? Think
+carefully and tell me the truth."
+
+"I am sure she would," I replied, "for he is honest and tender-hearted,
+and poor and true, and devoted to me, and I love him with all my heart
+and soul!"
+
+"Poof, child, poof! You're in love and that's a horrid state for any
+girl to be in; it's worse in a girl than in a man. You haven't a
+likeness of him by any chance, have you?"
+
+"No, he never gave me his photograph, but he's very--I mean he is quite
+handsome."
+
+"You needn't have told me that, for, of course, I know it. He is
+handsome in your eyes. You have no photograph, however, to prove your
+words; you are just in love with this youth, and your father wants you
+to return because he and that grand lady of his intend you to marry the
+old gentleman with the money. What sort is the old man? Is he in trade,
+in the butter business, or tobacco, or what?"
+
+"Oh, no, he's a lord," I said feebly.
+
+"Heaven preserve us--a lord! Then if you married him you'd be a
+countess?"
+
+"I don't know--perhaps I should; I don't want to marry him."
+
+"You blessed child! And he is rich, I suppose?"
+
+"I'm sure he is very rich, but then I don't care about riches."
+
+"Heather, you mustn't keep me the whole day chattering. When a girl
+begins on the subject of her sweethearts she never stops, and I have
+plenty of things to attend to. Here's a list of provisions I wrote out
+early this morning. I want you to go into the town and buy them for me.
+Don't forget one single thing; go right through the list and buy
+everything. Here's thirty shillings; you oughtn't to spend anything like
+all that. But pay for the things down on the nail the minute you have
+purchased them. Now then, off with you, and I will consider the subject
+of your sweethearts. Upon my word, to think of a mite like you having
+two!"
+
+I left Aunt Penelope's room and went out and bought the things she
+required. She had a troublesome lot of commissions, and they took me
+some time to execute. When I had done so I returned home again.
+
+"You are to go up to your aunt's room, and as quickly as you can, miss,"
+said Jonas, when I found myself in the little hall.
+
+"Jonas," I said, "several nice things will be sent in from the shops,
+and I have got a little bird for auntie's tea, and I want you to cook it
+just beautifully."
+
+"You trust me," said Jonas. "I'll see to that."
+
+He left me, and I went upstairs to Aunt Penelope's room.
+
+"The doctor has been, Heather, and he says you are the finest medicine
+he ever heard of, and that my chest is much better, and I am practically
+out of the wood; but here's a telegram from your father."
+
+"Oh!" I said, breathlessly, "has he discovered anything?"
+
+"Read," she answered, gazing at me with her glittering black eyes.
+
+I read the following words:--
+
+     Leaving Paddington by the 11.50 train. Hope to be with you about
+     1.30.
+
+     GORDON GRAYSON.
+
+"How did he know? Why is he coming?" I asked, my face turning very
+white.
+
+"He is coming, if you wish to know, Heather, because I asked him to
+come. And now, you will have the goodness to sit down by me. No, I am
+not hungry for dinner. I won't touch any food until you know the story I
+am about to tell you. Sit down where I can see your face, my child. Your
+father is coming, of course, because I wish it, and now I have something
+to say to you."
+
+I sat down, feeling just as though my feet were weighted with lead. I
+was trembling all over. Aunt Penelope looked at me fixedly; she had the
+best heart in the world, but the expression of her face was a little
+hard. Her eyes seemed to glitter now as they gazed into mine.
+
+"Aunt Penelope," I said, suddenly, "be prepared for one thing. Whatever
+you tell me, whatever you believe, and doubtless think you have good
+cause to believe, I shall never believe, never--if it means anything
+against my father."
+
+"Did I ask you to believe my story, Heather?"
+
+"No, but you expect me to, all the same," was my reply.
+
+"I expect you to listen, and not to behave like an idiot. Now sit
+perfectly still and let me begin."
+
+"It doesn't matter, if you don't expect me to believe," I said.
+
+"Hush! I am tired, I have been dangerously ill, and am not at all
+strong. I must get this thing over, or I'll take to worrying, and then I
+shall be bad again. Well, now, about your father. You understand, of
+course, that he left the army?"
+
+I nodded.
+
+"Oh, you take that piece of information very quietly."
+
+"He told me so himself," I said, after a pause. "Of course, I must
+believe what he tells me himself."
+
+"He told you himself? That's more than I expected Gordon Grayson to do.
+However, he has done so, and I don't think the worse of him, not by any
+means the worse, as far as that point is concerned. It hasn't occurred
+to you, I suppose, my poor little girl, to wonder why a man like your
+father is no longer in the army, to wonder why every army man will have
+nothing to do with him, to wonder why he married a woman like Lady Helen
+Dalrymple, and why she is received in society and he is not?"
+
+"How can you tell?" I asked, opening my lips in astonishment, "you
+weren't there to see."
+
+"A little bird told me," said Aunt Penelope.
+
+This was her usual fashion of explaining how certain information got to
+her ears: there was always a "little bird" in it; I knew that bird. I
+sat very still for a few minutes, then I said, as quietly and patiently
+as I could--
+
+"Speak."
+
+"It happened," said Aunt Penelope, "in India, and it happened a long
+time ago--the beginning of it happened before you came to live with me,
+Heather. Of one thing, at least, I am glad--your poor, sweet mother, my
+precious sister, was out of it all. She believed in your father as you
+believe in him; she was spared the terrible knowledge of the other side
+of his character."
+
+"Oh, hush! don't say such things."
+
+"And don't you talk rubbish. Listen to the plain words of a plain old
+woman, a woman who, for aught you can tell, may be dying."
+
+"I am sure you are not, auntie; I have come back to help you to get well
+again."
+
+"I am saying nothing against you, poor child; you are right enough, you
+do credit to my training. Had you been left to his tender mercies, God
+only knows what sort of creature you'd have grown into. But now I will
+begin, continue, and end in as few words as possible. Your father came
+courting your mother long years ago in a dear little seaside garrison
+town. He was a young lieutenant then, and was very smart, and had a way
+with him which I don't think he ever lost."
+
+I thought of my darling father, with his cheerful, bluff manners, with
+his gay laugh, his merry smile, his ready joke. Even still he had "a way
+with him," although it must be sadly altered from the time when my
+mother was young.
+
+"Your mother was a good bit my junior, Heather, and she and I kept a
+little house together. She was a very pretty girl indeed, and, of
+course, men admired her. We were pretty well off in those days, the
+pressure of penury had not come near us; we were orphans, but were left
+comfortably off. We used to subscribe to all the pleasant things that
+took place in our little town, and we occupied ourselves also in good
+works, and I think we were loved very much. Your father came along and
+got introduced to your mother, and to me, and we both took to him from
+the first."
+
+"Oh, auntie, did you like him, then?"
+
+"Like him! Of course I did. Heather, he was just the sort of man to
+beguile young girls to their destruction.
+
+"Well, he cast his spell over your mother, and people began to talk
+about them both, and I began to get into a rage, for I knew what those
+soldier lads were when they liked. I knew how easy it would be for him
+to flirt and make love and ride away. I was determined he should not do
+that. Your mother could not have borne it. She was so pretty, Heather,
+and so clinging, and so gentle, and she had just given her whole heart
+to your father. So one day I asked him, after he had been with her the
+whole morning, and they had walked together by the seashore, and sat
+together in the garden, and he had read poetry to her, and she had
+listened with her heart in her eyes--I said to him, 'Do you know what
+you are doing?' He stared at me and coloured, and said, 'What?'--and
+then I said again, 'You must know perfectly well that a girl's heart is
+a sensitive thing, so just be careful what you are doing with my young
+sister's heart.' He coloured all over his face, and I never liked him
+better than when he sprang forward and took my hand and said,
+
+"'Why, Penelope!'--I knew I ought to be shocked, but I did not even
+mind his calling me Penelope--'Why, Penelope, if I could only believe
+that I had been fortunate enough to make any impression on your sister's
+heart, I'd be the happiest man on earth, for I love her, Penelope,
+better than my own life!' Yes, Heather, I can hear him saying those
+words just as though it were yesterday, and I was ever so pleased, ever
+so glad; the delight and joy of that moment come back to me even now. Of
+course, your father and mother got engaged, and everything was as right
+as possible. They were married, and soon after their marriage they went
+to India, and in about a year's time I heard of the birth of their
+child--of you--Heather. Your mother was very poorly after your birth,
+and had to be sent to the hills, up to a place called Simla. But even
+the air of the hills did not do her any good. She pined and pined, and
+faded and faded, and when you were about five years of age she died."
+
+"I remember about _afterwards_," I said then, "I saw her after she was
+dead."
+
+"Well, you needn't tell me, the knowledge would be harrowing," said Aunt
+Penelope. "After your mother's death I wrote to Gordon, proposing to
+adopt you, and begging of him to send you to me at once. He refused
+rather shortly, I thought, and said that he preferred you to be near
+him, and that he knew a family who would keep you in the hills during
+the hot weather. So the next few years went by. Then, when you were
+about eight years old I got a letter from your father. He said he was
+coming back to London, that he wanted to come on special business, and
+also that he had now changed his mind, and would bring you to me, if I
+had not changed my mind about having you. Of course I had not, and he
+brought you, and that was the end of that story. You were left with me
+and you fared well enough. While your father was in London I saw him
+several times, and I marked a great change in him, and what I considered
+a great deterioration of character. He knew the woman he has since made
+his wife even then, and often spoke of her. She was in society in
+Calcutta, where his regiment was stationed, and he often met her. He
+used to mention her in almost every letter he wrote, and I was fairly
+sick of her name, and also of the name of her brother. I told Gordon so
+in one of my letters. I said that Lady Helen's brother might be the best
+man on earth, but that he was nothing at all to me, and that if he
+wanted to write about him he had better choose another correspondent.
+
+"Then, all of a sudden, without the slightest warning, the blow of blows
+fell. Your father was arrested on a charge of forgery; he had forged a
+cheque for a considerable sum of money. Oh, I forget all the
+particulars, but he had been made secretary to the golf and cricket
+clubs, and held, so to speak, the bank--in fact, he made away with the
+money, but he was caught just in time, and was tried by the laws of
+India, and sentenced to prison--penal servitude, in short. Of course,
+such a frightful disgrace carried its own consequences. He was cashiered
+from the army, they would have nothing whatever to do with him. His term
+of imprisonment was over late last autumn. I often used to wonder what
+would happen when he was free, and to speculate as to what your feelings
+would be when you saw him again. I used to make myself miserable about
+him. Well, you met, as you know, and he carried off everything with a
+high hand, and insisted on taking you away with him, and insisted
+further on marrying Lady Helen Dalrymple. It seems she stuck to him when
+all his other friends deserted him. He has lived through his punishment
+as far as the law of the land is concerned, but he will never outlive
+his disgrace, and there isn't a true soldier in the length and breadth
+of the land who will speak to him. Well, that's his story, and I was
+obliged to tell you. Now, you can run away and change your dress--oh, I
+forgot, you have no dress to change into. Well, you can tidy your hair
+and wash your hands, and by that time we'll be ready for dinner. Now,
+off with you, and be sure you have your hair well brushed. Good-bye for
+the present."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+I left Aunt Penelope's room. I walked very slowly. My room was next to
+hers, and the walls between were quite thin; you could almost hear a
+person talking in the adjoining room. I wanted to be very quiet. I
+wanted no one to hear me, and yet I could not bear the perfect stillness
+and the cramped feeling of the tiny room.
+
+I put on my hat, snatched up my gloves and parasol, and ran downstairs.
+Jonas met me. He looked much excited. He came up to me with his cheeks
+flushed.
+
+"Why, missie!" he said, "is there anything the matter?"
+
+"No, no; nothing at all, Jonas," I said. "You are preparing Aunt
+Penelope's dinner, are you not?"
+
+"Yes, missie; that is, as well as I can. I'm not at all sure about the
+soup, though; I am not certain that it is flavoured right. If you,
+missie, were to come along into the kitchen and just taste it, why--it
+would be a rare help, that it would."
+
+I clenched one of my hands tightly together. It was with the utmost
+difficulty that I could keep down the wild words which were crowding to
+my lips. But Aunt Penelope, whatever she told me, however awful and
+cruel her words were, must be looked after, must be tended, must be
+cared for. Crushing down that defiant, that worldly self which clamoured
+to assert itself, I followed the boy into the kitchen. I looked up an
+old receipt book and gave him swift directions.
+
+"You will have dinner all ready," I said, "and if by any chance I am
+out--if I haven't come in, you will not wait for me, for Aunt Penelope
+must have her dinner to the minute. You understand, don't you, Jonas?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Miss Heather. Yes, I understand; but"--he looked at me
+longingly--"there's the telegraphic message, miss," he said.
+
+"Oh, you mean that my father is coming. I'll be back in time to see him.
+It's all right, Jonas. Don't tell Aunt Penelope that I am out. Take her
+this soup, when it is ready, and, for Heaven's sake! don't keep me now."
+
+Jonas's round eyes became full of wonder, but I would not glance at
+them. I must get out. I must go up on the heights above the little town
+before my father arrived. I must be by myself, whatever happened; I must
+be quite alone.
+
+It was a hot day. Summer was coming on in great strides. In Aunt
+Penelope's village the weather was very hot in the summer time. But the
+air was more or less my native air. I was glad of it. I was glad to feel
+its soft zephyrs blowing against my cheeks. I soon reached the high part
+of the town, and then I found myself on the moors. I sat down on a clump
+of purple heather--the flower after which I was called--and pulled a
+spray of the blossom and crumpled it between my fingers and watched the
+little delicate flowers tumbling into my lap. All my life seemed to rise
+up before me at that moment, and the anguish that I lived through could
+scarcely be surpassed. Oh, Aunt Penelope, Aunt Penelope! What a dreadful
+thing you did when you told me that story about my father! Why did you,
+who kept it to yourself all your days, tell it to me now? Oh, it was not
+true! I did not believe it! Long ago, on the very day when I, a little,
+shy, frightened girl of eight years of age, had come to live with Aunt
+Penelope, the then reigning Jonas--the "Buttons" in possession--had
+taken me to these very heights and had walked over them with me and
+shown me the blue of the sea and the beauty of the landscape; and I had
+been excited, and pleased as a child will be, particularly such a child
+as I was--a child with a natural and intense love of nature in her
+heart.
+
+Yes, I had been happy then, up on these fragrant heights; but I had come
+back--oh, to such misery! For my father had gone; he had left me alone
+with Aunt Penelope. I sat now on the Downs, and remembered all that
+miserable day, my passionate, frantic pain, my mad search for my nurse,
+Anastasia; the woman who had taken my money and had shown me how to get
+to the railway station; the kind friends who had met me there and had
+assured me that Anastasia had not come by the next train; and then Aunt
+Penelope's face, which to me on that day seemed so hard and cold and
+cruel.
+
+What immediately followed was a blank to me: no wonder, for I was very
+ill. I recalled the days, the months, the years that followed--Aunt
+Penelope's simple life and my gradual and yet sure enjoyment of it, the
+little things that pleased me, the tiny happenings that were all
+important, the little joys that were great joys to me; the school
+prizes; the breaking-up days; the rare occasions when I was given a new
+frock; the careful, thrifty life. And all the time, noble lessons were
+being poured into my soul, and I was being taught by the sturdy example
+of one very brave, very poor old woman to refuse the evil and choose the
+good. I recalled what took place a few months ago--my father's return,
+his dear, jolly, red, good-natured face, his kindly eyes, his pleasant
+smile, the way he had hugged and kissed me, the manner in which my heart
+had gone out to him; my raptures when he said that he had come to take
+me away, that in future I was to be his child, his little girl who was
+to live with him. Oh, I was happy! I forgot Aunt Penelope in my joy. She
+was in bitter grief at the thought of losing me; but I was selfish, and
+did not mind.
+
+Then there came my hurried journey to London; the meeting with my
+father, the meeting with Lady Helen Dalrymple, and the beginning of a
+new life, the beginning of fresh troubles. First of all, there was my
+father's second marriage. I was not to have him to myself; Lady Helen
+was to share my felicity; and I hated Lady Helen, I recalled that
+time--that awful time. I thought of the great rich house in London and
+of what Lady Helen Dalrymple was, and of my anguish when she told me
+that I must change my name, and must in future be called Heather
+Dalrymple, and never again as long as I lived Heather Grayson. She
+further informed me that my father had taken her name and was Major
+Dalrymple, not Major Grayson. I was wild with anger, but a look on his
+face made me submit. Then by degrees I saw that my darling father was
+not at all happy. His fun had gone out of him; he no longer made a joke
+about everything. He sat very silent; sometimes I thought he was even a
+little bit afraid. Then Lord Hawtrey appeared on the scene, and
+then--then! my true lover, Vernon Carbury.
+
+Oh! yes, I loved Vernon Carbury. He was all that a romantic young girl
+would most adore. He was so handsome and gay and chivalrous, and such a
+perfect gentleman; and he had such a soldierly air and such a proud,
+upright bearing; and he was mine. He loved me as much as I loved him. It
+didn't matter a bit about his being poor. Lord Hawtrey, kind old man,
+wanted to marry me; and his sister, Lady Mary Percy, seemed to think it
+a very good match. But what was that to me? I loved Vernon and would
+marry no one else. But--but--there was my father; my father who had--oh,
+it couldn't be true! God in heaven! it was not true.
+
+I buried my face in my hands. I sobbed aloud. I was frantic with the
+grief of it, and the shame of it, and the torture of it. My father--my
+own father! If I had been told that Lady Helen had done a thing like
+that I should not have been surprised; but my father! It could not be;
+it was impossible.
+
+Suddenly I started to my feet. I would know the worst. Aunt Penelope
+believed the story, but I would never believe it unless I heard it from
+my father's lips, and if it was true, then of course I must give Vernon
+up. He should not marry a girl whose father had done something to make
+her ashamed. Much as I loved him, I felt that he must never do that; for
+that very reason, he must not do it--just because I loved him too well.
+
+I had a beautiful little jewelled watch with a long gold chain which was
+slipped into my belt. I took it out, and looked at the time. It was a
+quarter past one. If I walked quickly, I could reach the railway station
+in time to meet my father. I would take him away with me at once. We
+would go up on the Downs, and I would ask him point-blank if Aunt
+Penelope's story was true. He, at least, would tell me the truth.
+Afterwards, I could decide.
+
+I rose from my seat on the heather. I had crushed the beautiful purple
+heather down with my weight. But it was elastic, strong, and wiry. The
+winds of heaven and the sun would soon kiss it and tempt it, and rouse
+it to an upright position again. I had not really injured my own
+heather. I straightened my hat. Of late I had been forced to think a
+good deal about dress and fashion. Nobody else did at Cherton. Cherton
+was a little old-world place, and fashions put in their appearance there
+several years after they were seen in London.
+
+I pulled my gloves on tidily, pushed back my tumbled hair, and went
+rapidly towards the railway station. I knew how to get there now. I
+needed no fat old woman to show me the way. I arrived just as the London
+express was coming in. As I have said before, it but seldom stopped at
+our little wayside station. But it did stop to-day. I wondered if some
+great people like the Carringtons were returning. I did not want to see
+the Carringtons just then. The only person, however, who stepped out of
+the train, and that was out of a first-class carriage, was an elderly
+man with white hair and a haggard expression. He was very well dressed,
+and carried a smart walking-stick. But there was a decided stoop between
+his shoulders, as though he did not care to keep himself upright. I gave
+a faint cry, then ran up to him. I linked my hand inside his arm.
+
+"I thought I'd come to meet you. I am here; I am all right, you see."
+
+"Oh, I say! My darling little Heather! This is first-rate. Child, what a
+fright you have given Lady Helen and myself. You have been disgracefully
+naughty."
+
+"You must forgive me, Dad. Dad, darling, you haven't come all the way
+from London to a little place like Cherton just to scold your own
+Heather?"
+
+"Bless you, my beauty!" was the reply. "Aren't you the very joy of my
+heart? But all the same, you did wrong. You didn't think of what I went
+through last night. You forgot that, little Heather. But never mind,
+never mind; only I'd best send a wire to her ladyship. She will be in a
+fume if she doesn't hear. Ah! here's the telegraph office. I won't be a
+minute, child; you wait for me outside."
+
+I made no response. He went in, while I stood in the fierce heat of the
+sunshine. I hoisted my parasol, but the heat penetrated through it. How
+long my father stayed in that little office! And how old and tired he
+looked! and yet--oh, of course, he had done nothing wrong. It was but to
+look into those kind blue eyes; he could not have done that thing which
+Aunt Penelope accused him of. My spirits rose. She had made a mistake.
+He himself would explain everything to me, of that I was quite
+convinced.
+
+He came out again. He was rubbing his hands. He was in high spirits.
+
+"Upon my word, Heather," he said, "we are a pair of truants, you and I.
+I feel like a boy let loose from school. And how is the old aunt? How is
+Aunt Penelope?"
+
+"She is not at all well, Dad. It was most providential from her point of
+view that I did return, for she wanted someone to look after her."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me, Heather, that she is in danger?"
+
+"She is better to-day," I answered; "but she was very ill yesterday,
+very ill indeed, and the doctor was a little frightened, but he is ever
+so pleased to-day."
+
+"You have been nursing her, then?"
+
+"Yes, I have. But oh, Daddy, I am glad to see you again!"
+
+"And I to see you," was the reply. "A pair of truants out from
+school--eh, little girl, eh, eh?"
+
+"Yes, Daddy; oh, yes, Daddy."
+
+I slipped my hand inside his arm. I might not have done this if I had
+been quite certain about that story of Aunt Penelope's; but then I was
+doubting it more and more each moment. I was firmly convinced that there
+was not a syllable of truth in it, and I had him quite to myself, and I
+could soon talk him round with regard to Vernon. Of course, he would not
+wish me to marry an old man like Lord Hawtrey when there was a young man
+like Vernon Carbury longing to have me, longing to clasp me to his heart
+as his true love--his true wife. Daddy was not worldly-minded--of that I
+was certain.
+
+We walked down the steep hill about which I had got directions from the
+fat woman, and plunged into the little town.
+
+"I suppose we'd best get to your aunt's at once, child?" said my father.
+
+"No," I answered; "I want us to come up on the Downs first. Are you
+frightfully, frightfully hungry? For if you are, we can buy some cakes
+and eat them up on the Downs."
+
+"Well, I am not disinclined for a meal; but I'll tell you what we will
+do. We will go on the Downs first, and afterwards we will visit the best
+restaurant in Cherton. Come along, little woman; let's march. Eh, dear!
+it's a good thing to stretch one's legs. It's an awful matter to have to
+confess, Heather, but I'm about sick of that everlasting motoring. I'd
+give a good deal to be rid of it once and for all. But there! that is
+high treason. Lady Helen wouldn't like me to talk like that; and she is
+a good soul, you know, Heather--a right, good, generous creature. She
+doesn't mind how much she spends on a person. She has never stinted you,
+has she, Heather? Come now, confess the truth."
+
+"Oh, no," I replied, "she has been horribly, terribly generous."
+
+"Child! What on earth do you mean?"
+
+"I will tell you when we get on the Downs."
+
+He looked at me in a surprised sort of way, opened his lips as if to
+speak, then remained silent. I found I was walking too quickly for him;
+I was obliged to slacken my steps. I was surprised at this, for in all
+my long experience I had considered him one of the very strongest of
+men, a man who would never be tired, who was possessed of unbounded
+vitality, with such a great, strong flood of life in him that nothing of
+the ordinary sort could extinguish it. Nevertheless, he panted now and
+puffed as I walked with him up towards the Downs.
+
+"Why, Dad!" I cried, "is this too much for you?"
+
+"I expect so," he answered. "It's that beastly motoring--I never can
+stretch my legs. Upon my word, I am losing my muscle; I shall be a
+worn-out, rheumatic old man in no time--it's all Helen's fault."
+
+"You ought to play golf," I said; "men of your age, not old men--of
+course, you're not old--but men of your age spend hours at golf, and
+that keeps them active. That's what you ought to do--it is, really and
+truly."
+
+"It is, really and truly," he repeated, looking at me with a twinkle in
+his blue eyes. "So that's your way of looking at it, Miss Heather, and
+you think her ladyship will approve of my playing golf, and you think
+she'll approve of my absenting myself from her for long hours every
+day?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know--oh, I can't bear it!" I said.
+
+My voice was choked, there came a lump in my throat. After a moment I
+said, in a totally different sort of voice:
+
+"We'll walk slowly, darling. Darling, I understand."
+
+"Bless the child! of course she understands," he replied, and he
+squeezed my arm in his old, affectionate manner.
+
+Thank God! we were on the top at last. The beautiful fresh air came
+towards us, laden with salt from the sea, laden with freshness, and
+purity, and beauty. My father's tired eyes brightened; he stretched
+himself and looked about him. There was a lot of sunshine flooding the
+place, and there was no sort of shade, but neither he nor I minded that.
+
+"Come where the heather is most purple," I said. "Now, here--here's a
+bed for you and another for me. Stretch yourself; I'll lie close to you.
+Isn't it just lovely?"
+
+"Upon my word, it is, Heather; it's heavenly."
+
+"Daddy, I wonder sometimes why you called me Heather?"
+
+"It was your mother's wish--your first mother, I mean."
+
+"Oh, father, I could not have two mothers; you know that it would be
+impossible!"
+
+"So it would. Well, it was your mother's--your real mother's wish. Fact
+is, she was very ill when you were born, and there was a bit of Scotch
+blood in her; she had lived in Aberdeenshire. She was all Aberdeen in
+every sort of way, through and through, in her nature, I mean; canny,
+and straight and true, like the real, best Scotch folks. After you were
+born she had a sort of fever, and she saw purple heather all around
+her--the heather of the moors. So she begged of me to call the child
+'Heather,' and I did. You are called after the moors in Aberdeenshire--a
+very respectable sort of ancestress, too, eh, Heather, my love, eh, eh?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+My father had now recovered his breath; he sat upright and looked at me;
+he took my hand.
+
+"I have something to say to you," was his remark.
+
+I looked back at him and nodded. Our joyful time together was over now;
+our time of pain had begun. I knew this fact quite well. I nodded to him
+emphatically.
+
+"And I have something to say to you."
+
+"Well, Heather, I, being the elder, have the privilege of my years, have
+I not?"
+
+"You have," I said.
+
+I was glad of this. I was a coward at that moment, and wanted to put off
+the evil day.
+
+"Well, now, little girl, a straight question requires a straight answer.
+Why did you leave your mother's house and mine yesterday, and go away
+without saying a word to anybody? Do you think you acted kindly or well
+to Lady Helen or myself?"
+
+"I acted as I only could act under the circumstances," was my reply.
+
+"But tell me why, Heather."
+
+"You know what you did, father. You sent away the man I loved. I love
+him with all my heart and soul and strength. You sent him away. Then you
+and Lady Helen spoke to me; you said I was to give him up. I don't--I
+mean that kind of thing would never make me give him up, never! I could
+not live in the house with Lady Helen. She wanted me to marry Lord
+Hawtrey; father, I will never marry him--he knows it. You, father, you
+and Lady Helen, did your utmost to break my heart, but my heart is my
+own as my life is my own. I could no longer stay with you. Father, I
+have chosen; I have come back to the poor life, to the humble life, to
+the little life at Cherton, to Aunt Penelope's house and to Aunt
+Penelope's home once more. I don't want grandeur, I don't want what Lady
+Helen calls a high position--I should hate it, I should loathe it; it
+would be torture to me. Father, I won't have it!"
+
+He was quite silent, but, just as I had done that morning, he began to
+pull up pieces of purple heather and to scatter the little bells on the
+grass by his side. His eyes were lowered.
+
+"I hate the world!" I said.
+
+After a long pause, he spoke.
+
+"Bless you, Heather."
+
+"Father!"
+
+"For saying those words," he continued.
+
+"Oh, father, I knew you agreed with me in your heart of hearts."
+
+"I do, but I am tied and bound--yes, child, tied and bound. I can't
+escape; I can never escape; never, never!"
+
+"Father, I am coming to your part of all this in a few minutes, but
+first I want to speak about myself. Do you dislike the man I love? You
+don't know him; I do. I have seen him often at the Carringtons. He is
+strong, and brave and upright; he is not rich, but neither is he poor;
+he could marry me without taking any fortune with me; he could marry me,
+yes, me, just as I stand, and we should be happy--happy as the day is
+long. Father, I won't have that old man, and, what is more, I know that
+he won't have me. I will tell you what I did yesterday. You and Lady
+Helen between you broke my heart--oh, I had an awful time! I don't blame
+you much, but I must--I must say that I blame you a little. I sat in my
+room until you went out, and then I determined that whatever happened I
+would live my own life, that I would not be tied and bound to that
+awful, dreadful stepmother of mine. I saw that she was ruining you, that
+she was destroying your happiness, that she was making your life a hell
+to you, and I vowed that she should not destroy mine. I wondered who
+could help me, I wondered and wondered, and at last a bold thought
+occurred to me, and I determined to go into the lion's den."
+
+"Child, what do you mean?"
+
+I put my hand on his; his hand was fat and flabby, not the firm, brown,
+muscular hand that I used to remember.
+
+"I went to Lord Hawtrey," I said very quickly.
+
+He snatched his hand away, stood upright, and looked at me.
+
+"What! you went to Hawtrey--to his house?"
+
+"Yes. I found his address on a visiting card. I went there in a
+taxi-cab; he was out, but I waited for him--he came in presently, he was
+very nice--oh, yes! I saw him for a minute or two. I said I wanted to
+speak to him; he told me he could not attend to me then or in his own
+house, but he would send his sister to me."
+
+"Thank goodness!" said my father.
+
+"Her name was Lady Mary Percy. She was a nice woman; she came and she
+took me to her house, and there and then I told her everything. I told
+her about Vernon and about--about her brother, and what her brother had
+said to me. She was kind, although she said one or two strange things. I
+could not quite understand her, and some of the things she said stuck in
+my mind. She seemed to think that I had refused the greatest match in
+England."
+
+"And so you have, you most silly of all little Heathers."
+
+"Oh, no, Daddy! The greatest match in all England I have not refused; I
+have accepted Vernon Carbury. He is the best husband in all the world
+for me."
+
+"It is amazing what love will do," said my father then. "I felt
+something like that for your mother--eh! but that was a long time ago!"
+
+"Then, of course, you understand," I said, nestling up to him, "you are
+my darling old Dad, and you quite understand."
+
+"I don't, not a bit; and yet, at the same time, I do. Well, go on. You
+were at Lady Mary Percy's when you left off talking. How, in the name of
+fortune, did you get here?"
+
+"I left her after a bit. I would not go back to you, so I came to Aunt
+Penelope. I took the train here; I had money; and it was quite simple. I
+found my darling auntie very ill, but the sight of me has made her
+better. The doctor was so glad when I came back, and so was poor little
+Jonas--the Buttons, you know, Dad--you remember the Buttons?"
+
+"Yes, yes; of course, I remember him."
+
+"Auntie is in bed, very weak."
+
+"Then she won't want to see me," said my father, restlessly.
+
+"Yes; of course she will; she is expecting you. But now, I want to say
+something to you. I must say it; oh, Daddy, I must."
+
+His face turned white. He pulled his soft hat a little over his eyes and
+looked fixedly at me.
+
+"Well, Heather, speak. You--you're no coward."
+
+"I don't think I am. It began first in this way," I said. "It was
+something Lady Mary said; these were her words. She said: 'You are, of
+course, aware of the fact that Hawtrey must have loved you beyond the
+ordinary love of an ordinary man when he made up his mind to take as a
+wife the daughter of Major Grayson?'"
+
+"So he must; that's true enough, Heather."
+
+"Father, oh, father! Do you think I listened to those words tamely? I
+said: 'My father is the best man in all the world.' Lady Mary looked at
+me; at first she was angry, then a softened expression came over her
+face. She said: 'You poor little girl!' and then she said: 'Have you
+never suspected why he married Lady Helen Dalrymple?' Oh, father, it was
+after those words I came here, for I was determined to find out, and
+to-day--oh, my own Daddy, I did find out! I asked Aunt Penelope."
+
+"She told you--my God! she told you!"
+
+"She did, but I don't believe it--it isn't true."
+
+"Give me your hand, Heather."
+
+I gave it. I had some little difficulty in doing so, for a cold, icy,
+terrible doubt was flooding my mind, flooding my reason, flooding my
+powers of thought.
+
+"Keep it up," said my father to me. "Be brave, right on to the end. Tell
+me what she said. You are my daughter and--once I was a soldier; tell
+your soldier father what she said."
+
+"Oh, Daddy, Daddy, she said that you, you, my father--had--oh, it's so
+awful!--that you were arrested in India on a charge of forgery--you had
+made away with a lot of money--you were cashiered from the army and--you
+were imprisoned. All the time while I was picturing you a brave soldier,
+filling your post with distinction and pride, you were only--only--in
+prison! Oh, Daddy, it isn't true--it could not have been true; she said
+it was true, she said that your term was over last autumn, and that you
+came straight here to see me, and that, in some extraordinary way, you
+had money, and you carried everything off with a high hand, and insisted
+on taking me away with you, and the next thing she heard was that you
+had married Lady Helen Dalrymple. She says, Daddy, that you will never
+outlive your disgrace, and there isn't a soldier in the length and
+breadth of the land who will speak to you!"
+
+I laid my head down on his coat sleeve. Sobs rent my frame. There was an
+absolute silence on his part. He did not interrupt my tears for a
+moment, nor did he say one single word of contradiction. After a minute
+or so he remarked, very quietly:
+
+"Now, you will stop crying and listen."
+
+I sat upright. I looked at him out of glassy eyes; he gazed straight
+back at me; there was not a scrap of shame about his face; I wondered
+very much at that, and then a wild, joyful thought visited me. He could
+clear himself, he could show me that this disgraceful story was all a
+lie.
+
+"Now, stop crying," he said again. "Whatever I did or did not do, I was
+a soldier and fought the Queen's battles when she was alive--God bless
+her!--and I was accounted a brave man."
+
+"You were never a forger--you never saw the inside of a prison?"
+
+"Those are your two charges against me, Heather?"
+
+"Not mine, not mine," I said; "I just want you to tell me the truth."
+
+"Well, as a matter of fact, I was accused of forgery."
+
+My eyes fell, I trembled all over.
+
+"I was had up for trial; I stood in the prisoner's dock. I was convicted
+by jurymen, and a judge of our criminal courts proclaimed my sentence.
+The case was a particularly aggravated one, and my sentence was
+severe--I was sentenced to ten years' penal servitude--I lived all that
+time in prison. Not a pleasant life. Ah! it's spoiled my hands a good
+bit--have you never remarked it?"
+
+"Now that you speak, I--do remark it," I said.
+
+"And of course I was cashiered," he continued.
+
+I nodded.
+
+"Well, I have answered you."
+
+"You have," I said.
+
+"Is there anything else you'd like to know?"
+
+"Yes. Why did you marry Lady Helen?"
+
+"Why, that was part of the bond."
+
+"The bond?" I said.
+
+"The fact is, we understood each other. She had been very fond of me,
+poor woman, and she stuck to me through my disgrace, and when I came out
+of prison she was willing to do the best possible for me and for you.
+Of course, you can understand that without marriage I could not accept
+her services, so--I married her. I don't go about with her a great deal,
+you will have observed that?"
+
+"Yes, and I have wondered," I said.
+
+"But she has been good to you. She has taken you about."
+
+"Oh, yes. I hated going about with her."
+
+"She was anxious, and so was I, that you should marry well. She held out
+to me as the bait--your salvation."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Exactly what I say. When I entered into that worst prison of all, it
+was for your sake."
+
+"Father--oh, father!"
+
+"It is true, child. There, it's out. It is the worst prison of all--God
+help me! And now, at the end, you desert me!"
+
+"No, I won't," I said, flinging my arms round his neck; "no, I never
+will! It doesn't matter what you did, I'll stick to you--I will, I will,
+I will!"
+
+"My little girl, my own little girl! But she won't have you back except
+on her own terms; she only wants you in order to get you well married,
+to have the éclat and fuss and glory of a great marriage; that's her
+object. You have refused Hawtrey; I doubt if she'll forgive that."
+
+I was clinging close to him, I was holding his hand.
+
+"Can't we both leave her?" I whispered. "Can't we go away and be very
+poor together, and forget the world?"
+
+"Child, there is your lover, Carbury."
+
+I gave a quick, sharp sigh.
+
+"I can't think of him now," I said.
+
+"Oh, child, he proposed for you, knowing everything."
+
+"I won't marry him," I said, "I am going to stay with you in that worst
+prison."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+My father kept on holding my hand. We neither of us spoke; there are
+moments when words fail us, and these happened to be some. The sun crept
+higher and higher in the heavens, it beat down on us, but it was
+tempered by the pleasant, cool sea breezes. We were both looking into
+the future, and, truth to tell, our hearts were sad. I was making up my
+mind, and father was making up his mind. At last I, being the younger
+and more impulsive, spoke:
+
+"It is all right, Daddy," I said. "It was a bit of a dreadful shock; I
+don't pretend it was anything else. I have always put you--oh, on such a
+pedestal! But I'll get used to it. You were tempted awfully, or you
+would never have done it. I am certain of that, and--I have never been
+tempted at all, so, of course, I can't understand. You were tempted,
+poor darling, and it--it happened. It is hateful of people to stamp on
+you, and crush you when you're down; but I suppose it is something
+horrid inside of them makes them do it. Daddy, I'm not made like that.
+I couldn't stamp on you--I couldn't crush you. On the contrary, I have
+made up my mind. You and I against the world, Daddy mine, against the
+whole wide world. You won't return to London to-night; you'll stay here,
+and you'll write to Lady Helen, and you'll tell her that you and I have
+escaped from the worst prison, and are going to live always together,
+and that we aren't a bit afraid of poverty, and that, in short, we've
+made up our minds. We've cut the Gordian knot. We'll be happy together,
+and we don't care a scrap about poverty."
+
+"That's your firm resolve, is it, Heather?" said my father.
+
+"It is. I have been thinking it out--I can't get away from it."
+
+"All right. Give me a kiss, child."
+
+I put my arms round him, and kissed him many times. Again I noticed that
+there wasn't a bit of shame in his eyes; they looked quite clear, and
+steadfast, and blue, with that wonderful blue light which I think only
+comes into the eyes of men who are accustomed to face the sea and the
+wind, and who have lived a great deal out of doors.
+
+"So that is your final decision?" he repeated. "I like to feel your
+kisses on my cheek, Heather."
+
+I kissed him again.
+
+"It is," I said.
+
+"Well, now you've to hear mine."
+
+"Oh, yours," I said; "you won't go away from your own Heather--you
+couldn't--you love her too well."
+
+"God knows I love you, pretty one. You are the only creature on earth I
+do love. I love you with all my heart and soul, and that's saying a
+great deal. For the ten long years I was in prison I kept thinking and
+thinking of you, child. But for you I might have lost my reason; but
+your little face, and your ways, and your love for me kept me--well, all
+right. And now I am a free man again--I mean, I am free to claim your
+love. But you haven't decided what part Carbury is to play in this."
+
+I shivered very slightly.
+
+"I have told you," I said. "He won't play any part. I--I'm going to
+write to him. We need not talk about him any more. Yesterday you and my
+stepmother were opposed to my marrying him; now I also am opposed. There
+will be no marriage between us. I am all yours."
+
+"Oh, you best child in all the world!"
+
+"Then it's settled, isn't it, Daddy?"
+
+"My little girl, I can't tell. It rests with Carbury himself. But my
+part--you've got to hear my part now."
+
+I felt very, very sad when he said this. I seemed to guess in advance
+that a great strain and trial was about to be put upon me. My father
+looked at me, and then he looked away. Again he took up some great, full
+bells of heather and crushed them in his hand; he threw them away and
+turned and faced me.
+
+"There! The worst is out. I have got to stay with her ladyship."
+
+"Father!"
+
+"Yes. I can't get away from it, Heather child. I can't live on nothing,
+nor, my little girl, can you. We are both dependent on Lady Helen for
+our daily bread."
+
+"I am not--I won't be," I said.
+
+"But you are," he answered, "and you must be; that's just it. You can't
+get away from it. She holds the purse. Do you think she will unfasten
+those purse strings to give you and me an allowance to live away from
+her?"
+
+"But we can live on so little," I said; "and I can work. I should love
+to work."
+
+"Well, now, Heather," said my father, "you are no fool."
+
+"I hope I am not," I said.
+
+"You're a very wise girl for your age."
+
+"I hope so," I replied.
+
+"I have watched you, and I know you are wise for your age--very. Being
+so, therefore, what can you do to earn a living? Just tell me."
+
+I sat very quiet and still. I thought over my different accomplishments.
+I could play a little, I could sing a little; I had a smattering of
+French--a very slight smattering--and I was fond of good English books,
+history books, and books of travel, and I adored books of adventure, and
+I could recite a good many pieces from our best poets. But all these
+things did not form much of a cargo to take on board my ship of life. My
+father kept looking at me, with that whimsical light in his blue eyes.
+
+"Eh, little woman? Suppose I take you at your word, how do you propose
+to support yourself and me? There would be, first of all, our lodgings.
+We might go to Plymouth, or some other place, not too dear. We might
+find rooms--kind of country cottage rooms--by the sea, and pay, say, six
+shillings a week each. It is very unlikely we'd get them for that, but I
+really want to bring you down as lightly as possible. Well, six
+shillings a week for you and six shillings for me means twelve
+shillings, and that would mean, probably, a tiny, tiny sitting-room, and
+two of the wee-est bedrooms in all the world. Still, it might be done
+for the price of twelve shillings a week. There would be extras, of
+course--landladies greatly live by extras--and we should have to put
+them down, counting coal and light, one part of the year with another,
+at about three shillings a week, which mounts up, our lodging and our
+light and coal, to fifteen shillings a week.
+
+"Then, my dear little Heather, there comes that important thing, food,
+for the bravest of all little girls would get very hungry at times, and
+if she didn't get hungry she wouldn't be worth her salt. There'd be your
+breakfast, my dear, and my breakfast, and your snack in the middle of
+the day, and your tea in the afternoon, and your dinner in the evening;
+and I don't think the shopkeepers would give us bread, and butter, and
+milk, and beef, and mutton, and vegetables, and all those sort of things
+for nothing--I have an impression that they wouldn't. Of course I may be
+wrong, but that is my impression, and I have a pretty good knowledge of
+the world. I don't think, dear, that even at starvation price we could
+be fed under something like another fifteen shillings to a pound a
+week. Now, my little Heather, how are you to earn, say, one pound
+fifteen shillings a week--to say nothing of the expense of note-paper,
+and stamps, and envelopes, and dress?"
+
+"Oh, I have heaps of dress," I said. "There are a great many dresses of
+mine at the house in London."
+
+"Which have been supplied to you by Lady Helen. I don't really know, if
+we made this great severance from her, whether we should have any right
+to take those dresses from her or not--I am inclined to think not, if
+you ask me. However, suppose you don't want dress for the time being, at
+least you will want shoe leather, and gloves, and trifles of that sort.
+My dear, we can't put down our living, between us, however hard we try,
+at less than two pounds a week, and that means over a hundred pounds a
+year. Now, Heather child, I have nothing a year--nothing!"
+
+He stretched out both his arms as he spoke.
+
+"Oh, yes; I am supposed to be one of the richest of old men. I can drive
+in my motor-car, and I can have a horse, and I can go here, there, and
+everywhere. I can live in the softest rooms, and I can eat the most
+dainty food, and I can curse luxury in my heart as you curse it in
+yours; but I haven't a penny piece to get away from it--not a penny
+piece; and, as far as I can tell, no more have you."
+
+"Couldn't we live here with Aunt Penelope?" I said.
+
+My voice was very weak and faint. A good deal of my courage was being
+taken out of me.
+
+"As if we would, Heather! Think how that brave woman supported you
+during the long years when I was in prison, and could not earn a
+halfpenny! No, no, Heather; no, no! It was partly to relieve your aunt
+that I married her ladyship, and, Heather child, I can't get away from
+her now--I can't--and I am greatly afraid you can't either."
+
+"But she won't have me," I said; "she'll have you back, of course, but
+not me; and, father, darling, I _can't_ go back!"
+
+"She would have you if I pleaded," said my father, "and if I could tell
+her you had quite given up young Carbury. She has taken a dislike to
+that poor boy, God alone knows why--but I think I can manage it. You
+see, it's this way. Her ladyship has a great horror of anything
+approaching a scandal; I never knew anyone with such a downright horror
+of it; upon my word, in her case it amounts to a downright sin--it
+does, really. Well, there she is, hating scandal, and if you left her
+there'd be no end of talk, for in your way you have paid her well for
+all the luxuries she has showered upon you. People have been civil to
+her, not for her sake--who would look at a frowzy old woman like
+her?--yes, child, I say it; I don't mind what I say to you--but a great
+many people would want to look at your dear, fresh little face; and it
+is just because of that same dear little face that so many people have
+come to her ladyship's 'At Homes'; and it is because of that same little
+face that you and Lady Helen have been asked out so much. She knows it
+well enough; she knows why she's popular. I can easily get her to let
+the old life go on, and you shan't be worried with--with that poor
+fellow Hawtrey. I said to myself, when she was so full of it, 'I don't
+believe the child will consent,' but there, she told me I was wrong. She
+said there wasn't a girl in England who'd refuse a match like that; and
+even I allowed myself to be persuaded that that was the case."
+
+"But, oh, father, wouldn't you have hated it?"
+
+"No, child, not altogether; there might have been worse fates for you.
+He's a good man, is Hawtrey; he'd have treated you well; he'd have been
+very kind to you. I have heard before of girls marrying men old enough
+to be their fathers, and being happy with them. I dare say if young
+Carbury had not come in the way you'd have taken him, for there isn't
+his like in England for chivalry and kindness of heart."
+
+"But he did come," I said.
+
+"Yes; youth naturally mates with youth--it's the true story of life. I'm
+not blaming you a bit, Heather--not in my heart, I mean. I had to
+pretend to blame you, of course, the other day."
+
+Here my father rose to his feet.
+
+"You shan't be worried about Hawtrey," he said, "and I'll promise that
+Carbury shall not cross your path. But I don't think there is any help
+for it; you'll have to come back with me. I'll stay here to-night; I'll
+telegraph to her ladyship again, and tell her that you are all right,
+and that we are coming back to-morrow morning. I'd rather have you in
+the house than not in the house, for even though we can't often talk to
+each other we can at least understand each other."
+
+"But Aunt Penelope is ill; even if I could agree to what you wish, Aunt
+Penelope is very ill. I ought not to leave her now."
+
+"Well, perhaps not; perhaps your aunt ought to be considered. In that
+case I would go back myself to-night--it would be best for me to do so;
+her ladyship might want me, and I know I'd be in the right to go back,
+and as quickly as possible. Well, we'll go and see your aunt now; only,
+before we visit her, I want you to make me a promise. You will come to
+London--you will take up the old life for my sake?"
+
+I looked him in the eyes.
+
+"Do you want this very, very badly?" I said.
+
+"I want it more than anything on earth."
+
+"And wanting it so badly," I said very sadly, "you yet would have
+pretended to be glad if I had said 'Yes' to Lord Hawtrey?"
+
+"I might have, there's no saying. I'd have had your house to come to
+then; but that's out of the question, and needn't be thought of. You'll
+come back to me, Heather, when your aunt can spare you?"
+
+"Yes, I will come," I said, and then I kissed him, and we walked slowly
+back from the Downs, my hand clasped in his.
+
+Aunt Penelope was better; the doctor had been again, and was pleased
+with her. Jonas, in his very best suit, his face shining with soap and
+water, gave us the good news on our arrival. There was a nice little
+lunch waiting for us in the tiny dining-room, and my father, as he
+expressed it, was "downright hungry."
+
+"Delicious, this cold beef and salad tastes," he said. "Upon my word,
+there's nothing like plain food; one does get sick to death of made-up
+dishes."
+
+I helped him to the best that my aunt's little table could afford, and
+then I ran softly up to her room. She was lying high up in bed, her eyes
+were bright, and she was watching for me.
+
+"Well, child; well?"
+
+"You are better, aren't you, auntie?"
+
+"Better? I am all right, child; what about yourself?"
+
+"I am quite well, of course."
+
+"Heather, is that poor man, your father, downstairs?"
+
+"He is."
+
+"Has he expressed a wish to see me?"
+
+"He has come back for the purpose."
+
+"I will see him; only he must be quiet, in order to prevent my coughing.
+If I start coughing again I may get really bad; you tell him that.
+Heather, my love, you're not going to leave me, are you?"
+
+"Not at present, at any rate," I said.
+
+"Kiss me, dear. You are a very good girl; you take after your mother.
+You have got her patient, steadfast light in your eyes. Now send that
+father of yours up, and tell him, whatever he does, to be careful that
+he doesn't set me coughing."
+
+I ran downstairs, and gave my father Aunt Penelope's message. He said:
+
+"Poor old girl! I'll be careful, right enough," and then he went softly
+and slowly upstairs. I watched until he was out of sight; then I ran
+quickly into the little drawing-room. I had not a minute to lose, and I
+would not delay. I would not postpone setting a seal on my own fate for
+a single moment.
+
+There was the little room, looking just as of old. I had dusted it and
+tidied it that morning, and put a few fresh flowers in one or two vases,
+and made it look quite gay and pretty. I knew where Aunt Penelope kept
+her note-paper; I opened her Davenport and took out a sheet now and
+began to write. I wrote straight to Vernon Carbury. My letter was very
+short.
+
+     "I have to give you up, Vernon," I wrote; "there is no other way
+     out. My father, Major Grayson, has told me his true story. I never
+     heard it until to-day. I understand everything now, and I wish you,
+     Vernon, clearly to understand that I, Major Grayson's daughter,
+     take his shame, and bind it on me, and not for all the world will I
+     loosen that badge of shame from my heart. So, because of this very
+     thing, I can never be your true wife. You are a brave soldier of
+     the King, and my father has been cashiered, because of a crime,
+     from the King's Army. Is it likely that you and I can be husband
+     and wife? Good-bye, dear. It gives me dreadful pain to write this
+     letter, but all the same, I am glad we have met, and that you have
+     put me into your gallery of heroines, as I have put you into my
+     gallery of heroes. Forget me soon--find a girl who has no shame to
+     bind round her heart, and be happy. Dearest darling, best
+     beloved,--Your little
+
+     "HEATHER."
+
+I knew his address, and put it on the letter. I stamped it, and ran out
+with it myself. Jonas saw me going, and called after me:
+
+"Miss Heather, I'll post that for you."
+
+"No, thank you," I answered; "I'd like to go."
+
+The letter was dropped into the post-box before my father came
+downstairs again after his interview with Aunt Penelope. His face was
+pale, and he looked tired.
+
+"Upon my word, this has been a trying day to me. She's the best of
+women, Heather; I don't wonder you're proud of her. She reminds me
+wonderfully of your poor mother; not in appearance, of course, for I
+never saw your mother except with the glint and the glamour of youth on
+her face; but she's what your poor mother would have been had she lived.
+She's a right-down good woman. She wants you to go on living with her,
+but I have got her to see reason, and she is satisfied that you shall
+return to me as soon as she is well. Take care of her, child--here's a
+ten-pound note to spend on her, and when you want more money you have
+only to write to me."
+
+"But--but I thought you had no money?" I answered.
+
+"I have, and I haven't. As long as I live with Lady Helen I have more
+money than I know what to do with. Don't take that little drop of honey
+out of my cup. I can spend that money as I please, and no questions
+asked; and now, my child, I'm going back to London. I'll write to you in
+a day or two; you needn't fear her ladyship, she'll go on giving you a
+good time, and some day perhaps you'll marry."
+
+"No," I said. "You know that--father--you know that I won't."
+
+"Well, well, there's no saying, and a girl of your age can't prophesy
+with regard to the future. Good-bye, little girl. God bless you! You
+have comforted me as you alone could to-day."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Aunt Penelope got better very quickly; having turned the corner, there
+were no relapses. Whether it was my society or whether she was easier
+and happier in her mind, or whatever the cause, she lost her cough, she
+lost her weakness, and became very much the Aunt Penelope of old. I
+watched her with a kind of fearful joy. I was glad she was so much
+better, and yet I trembled for the day, which I knew was approaching,
+when I must return to Hanbury Square. Aunt Penelope used to look at me
+with the steadfast gaze which I had found very trying when a little
+child, but which I now appreciated for its honesty and directness. It
+was as though she were reading my very heart.
+
+Meanwhile, no letters of any sort arrived; not one from my father, not
+one from Captain Carbury. I pretended to be very glad that Vernon did
+not write, but down deep in my heart of hearts I know that I was sorry;
+I know, too, that my heart beat quicker than usual when the postman's
+knock came to the door, and I know that that same heart went down low,
+low in my breast, when he passed by without any missive for me.
+
+At last there came an evening when Aunt Penelope and I had a long talk
+together. On that evening we settled the exact day when I was to return
+to my father and to Lady Helen. We were able to talk over everything now
+without any secret between us, and that fact was a great comfort to me.
+Once she spoke about my dear father's sin, but when she began on that
+subject I stopped her.
+
+"When you forgive, is it not said that you ought also to forget?"
+
+"What do you mean, Heather?"
+
+"Well, you have forgiven him, haven't you?"
+
+"I never said I had."
+
+"I think you have, and I think you must; and as you have forgiven, so,
+of course, you will absolutely forget."
+
+She made no reply for a long time. Then she rose, kissed me lightly on
+the forehead, and said:
+
+"You are a good child, Heather, you take after your poor mother. Now go
+out and help Jonas with the tea."
+
+I went out, and it was that very day that an extraordinary thing
+happened--that thing which, all of a sudden, changed my complete life.
+
+Jonas and I were in the kitchen; we were excellent friends. I was busy
+buttering some toast, which he was making at the nice, bright, little
+fire. Tea had been made and it was drawing on the top of the range.
+There was a snowy-white cloth on the little tray, and when enough
+buttered toast had been made I was going to carry the tray into the
+drawing-room, for Aunt Penelope liked me to do this, in order to save
+Buttons and give him more time to "look after the garden," as she
+expressed it. We were so employed, and were fairly happy, although we
+both knew quite well that I must shortly take my leave, and that the
+little house would have to do without me--that Jonas would have nobody
+to help him, and that Aunt Penelope would miss me every hour of the day.
+
+Well, as we were thus occupied, I suddenly heard someone run up the
+steps which led to the front door. There were four or five steps, rather
+steep ones. The person who ascended now must have been young and agile,
+for there was quite a ringing sound as each step was surmounted. Then
+there came a pull at the bell and a sharp, very quick "rat-tat" on the
+front door.
+
+"Miss Heather, who can it be?" said Jonas.
+
+He had his toasting-fork in his hand and a great slice of tempting brown
+toast, which he was just finishing, on the edge of it; his round, very
+blue eyes were fixed on my face. For no earthly reason that anyone can
+tell I felt myself changing colour, and I knew that my heart began to
+beat in a very queer and excitable way.
+
+"What can it be?" repeated Jonas. "It's a man, by the step. I'll take a
+peep out by the area."
+
+"Oh no, Jonas, you mustn't," I said; but I might as well have spoken to
+the wind. Jonas, toasting-fork, toast and all, were out of sight. The
+next minute he came tiptoeing back.
+
+"It's as smart a young gent as I ever laid eyes on," he said. "Miss
+Heather, for the Lord's sake slip upstairs and put on your best
+'Sunday-go-to-meeting' dress and tidy your 'air, miss, it's ruffled from
+doing things in the kitchen, and take the smut off your cheek,
+and--there! I mustn't keep him waiting any longer. He be a bloomin' fine
+boy and no mistake."
+
+"Let me pass you, Jonas; I'll go first," I said, and in this fashion we
+both left the kitchen, I rushed to my room--I wasn't above taking a
+hint from Jonas; soon one of my pretty frocks, which I used to wear at
+Lady Helen's, was on once more, a white embroidered collar encircled my
+throat, my hair was tidily arranged, the obnoxious smut removed, and I
+came slowly downstairs. Jonas was waiting for me on the bottom step.
+
+"It's you he's asked for, miss--he's a captain in the harmy, no less.
+Carbury his name be. I 'as took in the tea, and my missus is chatting
+with him as lively and pleasant as you please. You go in, miss; you're
+all right now, you look like any queen. Ring if you want me, Miss
+Heather; don't you be doing things yourself when a gent like that's in
+the house. Ring and give your orders properly, same as if there was
+twenty Jonases here instead of one. I'm not tired, not a bit of it; I'm
+real pleased to see you looking so perky, miss."
+
+I put out my hand and touched his; he grasped mine in a sort of pleased
+astonishment, and tears absolutely moistened his eyes.
+
+"Go in and prosper, miss," he said, and then he dashed downstairs.
+
+I entered the drawing-room.
+
+There was no one like Vernon. He had a trick of making friends with
+people in about two minutes and a half. It could never be said of Aunt
+Penelope that she was a person who was brought quickly round to be cosy
+and confidential and friendly with anyone; it had taken me the greater
+part of my life to know the dear old lady as she really ought to be
+known, and yet, here was Vernon, seated on a low chair facing the tea
+table, and absolutely pouring out tea for himself and Aunt Penelope! He
+looked up as I entered, threw down the sugar tongs with a slight
+clatter, came towards me and gave my hand a squeeze.
+
+"She's much too weak, Heather, to be bothered making tea, so I thought
+I'd do it."
+
+"He is making it very nicely, Heather, my dear," said Aunt Penelope,
+"and I don't see why he should not go on. I'm quite interested in
+Captain Carbury's stories about the army; it is so long since I have met
+a soldier. I assure you, Captain Carbury, in my young days I hardly ever
+met anyone else."
+
+"And a very great advantage for the army, madam," said Vernon, with that
+pleasant twinkle in his eyes which would have made an Irish girl call
+him "a broth of a boy" at once.
+
+I sat down; I found it difficult to talk. Aunt Penelope took no notice
+of me; she kept up a ceaseless chatter with Vernon. He was in the best
+of spirits; I never saw anything like the way he managed her. What could
+he have said to her during those very few minutes while I was changing
+my dress and tidying my hair and getting that smut off my cheek?
+
+The tea came to an end at last, and then the dear old lady rose.
+
+"Heather," she said, "I am a little tired, and am going to lie down. You
+can entertain Captain Carbury. Captain, I have not the least idea what
+this dear child of mine has ordered for supper, but whatever it is I
+hope you will share it with us. We should both like you to do so."
+
+"Thank you, I shall be delighted," he replied, and then Aunt Penelope
+went out of the room. The moment she had gone Vernon looked at me and I
+looked at him.
+
+"Oh, you have done wrong," I said, "you know you have done wrong!"
+
+"Shall we have our little talk," he said, in his calmest voice, "before
+or after Buttons removes the tea-things?"
+
+"Oh, what do the tea-things matter?" I replied. "Let them stay. Vernon,
+you oughtn't to have come here."
+
+"Oughtn't I? But I very well think I ought. Why shouldn't a man come to
+see the girl who has promised to marry him?"
+
+"Vernon, you know--you got my letter?"
+
+"I did certainly get a letter--an extraordinarily dear, sweet, pathetic
+little letter. Well, my dear, I have acted on it, that's all."
+
+"Acted on it, Vernon! What do you mean?"
+
+He put his hand into his pocket and took the letter out.
+
+"Come and sit close to me on the sofa, Heather."
+
+"No, no; I can't; I daren't!"
+
+"But you can and dare. Do you suppose I am going to stand this sort of
+thing? You are the girl I am going to marry. Heather, what nonsense you
+are talking! Kiss me this minute!"
+
+"Vernon, you know I daren't kiss you."
+
+"And I know you dare and shall and will. Come, this minute--this very
+minute."
+
+"Oh, Vernon! Oh, Vernon!"
+
+Before I could prevent him his arms were round me and his lips were
+pressed to mine. The moment I felt the touch of those lips I ceased to
+struggle against his will and lay passive in his arms. My heart quieted
+down, and a great peace, added to a wonderful joy, filled me.
+
+"Vernon, dear Vernon!"
+
+"Say 'darling Vernon'; that's better than dear."
+
+"Oh, well, if I must--darling Vernon!"
+
+"Say 'your very own Vernon,' whom you will marry."
+
+"Vernon, I can't. I will not tie you to me and to shame."
+
+"Of course you won't, you poor darling; but suppose--now I think this is
+about the stage when the hero and heroine had best sit on the sofa, or
+the heroine may perhaps faint."
+
+"Vernon, what are you talking about?"
+
+"We are quite comfortable now," he said.
+
+He drew me very close to him, and put his arm round my waist.
+
+"You little angel!" he said, "you darling! When I marry you I marry
+_honour_, not shame. Yes--honour, not shame. I marry the bravest girl on
+earth and the daughter of the bravest gentleman in His Majesty's army."
+
+"Vernon, what do you mean?"
+
+"I will tell you. Now you stay quite quiet and listen. Are you aware of
+the fact--perhaps you are not--that that dear Lady Helen, that precious
+stepmother of yours, has a brother who was in the army?"
+
+"Has she?" I asked. "I didn't know."
+
+"Well, I happen to be aware of the fact. He was a good-for-nothing, if
+anyone was in all the world. His name was Gideon Dalrymple. Surely your
+father has sometimes spoken to you about Colonel Dalrymple?"
+
+"Never," I said.
+
+"Well, it doesn't greatly matter; you're not likely to hear a great deal
+about him in the future--he is the sort of person whose history people
+shut up; but before that time comes I--have some work to do in
+connection with that same excellent officer in His Majesty's army."
+
+"Stop!" I said suddenly. I bent forward and looked into his eyes; my own
+were blazing with excitement, and my cheeks must have been full of
+colour.
+
+"Vernon, I recall a time, it comes back to me. I went unexpectedly into
+a room where my father and stepmother were seated. I saw my darling
+father in a rage, one of the few rages I have seen him in since his
+marriage. I heard him say to her: 'Your brother will not enter this
+house!' Can he be the same man?"
+
+"Beyond doubt he is. Well, now, I will tell you that when I first knew
+you I also knew, as did most people who were acquainted with your
+father, something of his story. I knew that he had gone through a time
+of terrible punishment; that he had been cashiered; that he was supposed
+to have committed a very heinous crime--in short, that he was the sort
+of person whom no upright soldier would speak to."
+
+"Yes," I said, trembling very much; "that is what one would think, that
+is what I said in my letter. Only you understand, Vernon, that I am on
+his side--he and I bear the same shame."
+
+"Little darling, not a bit of it. There's no shame for you to bear. But
+let me go on. You remember that day when I met you in Hyde Park?"
+
+"_The_ day?" I said.
+
+"_The_ day, Heather. You and I walked back to the house in Hanbury
+Square together. You were sent out of the room. I had a long talk with
+your stepmother and with your father--no matter now what was said. I was
+beside myself for a time, but I made up my mind then that whatever
+happened I'd woo you and win you and get you and keep you! Something
+else also haunted me, and that was the fact that your father, Major
+Grayson, was not in the least like the sort of man I had expected him to
+be. I have, Heather, I believe, the power of reading character, and if
+ever there was a man who had a perfectly beautiful, honourable
+expression, if ever there was a man who could _not_ do the sort of thing
+which Major Grayson had been accused of doing, that man was your father.
+Before I left the house I was as certain of his innocence as I was of my
+own."
+
+"You darling!" I said. I stooped and kissed his hand.
+
+"Then I thought of you, and I said to myself: 'She's Major Grayson's
+worthy daughter,' and--I gave myself up to thinking out this thing.
+People can go to the British Museum, Heather, and can read the
+newspapers of any date, so I went there on the following morning and
+read up the whole of your father's trial. I read the evidence for and
+against him, and I discovered that there was a great deal of talk about
+a Gideon Dalrymple--the Honourable Gideon Dalrymple, as he was called.
+He was mixed up in the thing. I went farther into particulars, and
+discovered that this man was the brother of Lady Helen. I sat and
+thought over that fact for a long time. I took it home to my rooms with
+me and thought it over there; I thought it over and over and over, but I
+could not see daylight, only I was more and more certain that your
+father was innocent.
+
+"Then I got your letter, and that letter was just enough to stir me up
+and to make me wild, to put me into a sort of frenzy. So at last I said
+to myself: 'There's nothing like bearding the lion in his den,' and one
+day, quite early in the morning, I called at the house in Hanbury
+Square. I asked to see Lady Helen Dalrymple, and as I stood at the door
+a boy came up with a telegram. The telegram was taken in, and I was also
+admitted, for I gave the sort of message that would cause a woman of her
+description to see me. She was in her boudoir, and she came forward in a
+frenzy of distraction and grief, and said: 'What do you want? Go away! I
+am in dreadful trouble; I won't see you--it's like your impertinence to
+come here!'
+
+"'I won't keep you long,' I said. 'I want to get at once from you
+Colonel Gideon Dalrymple's private address, for I have something of the
+utmost importance to talk over with him.'
+
+"'What?' she screamed. 'You can't see him--you can't possibly see him.
+He's very ill. I've just had a telegram from a nursing home where he is
+staying. I am on my way to see him myself. My poor, poor brother!'
+
+"'Oh, then, if he is ill, of course he'll confess,' I said. 'I may as
+well go with you. He has got to confess, sooner or later, and the sooner
+he does it the better.'"
+
+"Vernon! You said _that_ to her?"
+
+"Yes, Heather; I said all that."
+
+"Oh, you had courage. But what did you mean?"
+
+"I knew quite well what I meant. I had gathered a few facts together
+from those papers, and I meant to put the screw on when I saw the
+victim. Was not I working for home, and love, and wife? Was I likely to
+hesitate? Was I not working for a good man's honour? What else is a
+soldier worth if he can't make the best of such a job as I had set
+myself?
+
+"Well, the long and short of it was this, Heather. That woman got as
+meek as a mouse. I put the screw on her right away, and she was so
+frightened she hardly knew what to do; so terrified was she that in less
+than ten minutes I could do anything with her, and in a quarter of an
+hour she and I were going in her motor-car to the home where the
+Honourable Gideon was lying at the point of death, owing to a fresh
+attack of his old enemy, D.T. We both saw him together, and the moment I
+looked at his face I said to myself: 'You're the boy; you have got the
+ugly sort of face that would be capable of doing that sort of low-down,
+mean thing.'
+
+"Afterwards I saw him alone; I put the screw on at once, but quite
+quietly. The doctor had said that he couldn't possibly recover, and I
+said that it would be much better for him to ease his conscience. So he
+did ease it, with a vengeance. He was in such a mortal funk at the
+thought of dying that he told me the whole thing. It was he who forged
+the cheque and took the money, and he and Lady Helen between them got
+your father to bear the brunt of the blame--in short, to act as the
+scapegoat. You see, your father was half mad about Lady Helen then, and
+she could do anything with him: he was badly in debt, too, and half off
+his head with trouble. Your father spent ten years in penal servitude,
+and all for the sake of a woman who was not worth her salt. It was
+arranged between them that he was to save her brother, and that she
+would marry him and take his part, and give him of her enormous wealth
+when he came out of prison. It was a nicely-arranged plan, and why he
+ever yielded to it is more than I can make out; but guilty--he was never
+guilty.
+
+"When that precious Gideon had told his story, I got in proper witnesses
+and had it all written down, and he put his signature to it, and I had
+that signature witnessed. After that I did not bother much about him; he
+died in the night.
+
+"I went to Lady Helen next day, and told her what was to be expected. I
+said: 'Your husband's honour has to be cleared.' She was in an awful
+funk, but I did not care. I never saw anyone in such a state; I don't
+know what she did not promise me. She said I might marry you, and
+welcome, and that she'd settle ten, or even twenty thousand pounds on
+you. As if either of us would touch a farthing of her money! But in the
+end your father himself came to the rescue, and said that if you knew he
+was innocent, and I knew he was innocent, he was accustomed to the
+opinion of the world, and he would be true to Lady Helen as long as he
+lived. It was quixotic of him--much too quixotic; but there, that's how
+things stand. Oh, of course, I forgot--your Aunt Penelope is to know,
+and we may be married as soon as ever we like--to-morrow by special
+licence, if we can't wait any longer, but anyhow as soon as possible.
+There, little Heather. Now, haven't I a right to kiss you? And what
+nonsense you did talk in your sweet little letter, your precious letter,
+which I will keep, all the same, until my dying day!"
+
+Vernon put his arm round me, and I laid my head on his shoulder. My
+first sensation was one of absolute peace. Oh! my light and happy heart!
+Oh! my father--my hero once again!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Certainly Vernon's story was the most amazing that any girl had ever
+listened to. Notwithstanding my great joy I could not take it all in at
+once. The first time of telling seemed to have little or no effect on
+me, except that it lightened my heart in a most curious manner of a load
+which was almost insupportable. I sprang suddenly to my feet.
+
+"Will you come out with me?" I said. "Shall we go up on the Downs, and
+will you tell me there the whole story from beginning to end over
+again?"
+
+He smiled and said, in his bright way:
+
+"All right, little Heather."
+
+I flew upstairs. Aunt Penelope was moving about in her room, but I would
+not go to her. I felt somehow that I could not meet her just yet, and
+she, dear old thing, must have guessed my feelings, for she did not
+attempt to trouble me. I put on my hat and jacket, snatched up my
+gloves, and ran downstairs. Vernon was waiting for me. How tall he was,
+and broad, and how splendidly he carried himself!
+
+"Oh, Vernon," I said, looking into his face, "I am so proud that you are
+a soldier!"
+
+He laughed.
+
+"Thank you very much indeed, little Heather," he said.
+
+When we got out he drew my hand through his arm, and we went up to the
+beautiful Downs. We sat on the heather and he told me the story over
+again; I took it in much better this time. When it was quite finished I
+said:
+
+[Illustration: "We sat on the heather and he told me the story over
+again."]
+
+"And father--what is to become of father?"
+
+"I'm afraid he'll have to go on living with Lady Helen," was Vernon's
+answer. But I shook my head.
+
+"No," I said; "not at all. I have a better scheme than that. Lady Helen
+is very much frightened, isn't she, Vernon?"
+
+"A 'blue funk' doesn't even describe her," replied Vernon.
+
+"Well, then," I said, "I have a plan in my head. You and I will go up to
+London to-morrow." "I am quite agreeable, Heather--that is, if it causes
+you to hurry on our wedding day."
+
+"Oh, there's time enough for our wedding day," I said. "We mustn't be
+selfish, you know, Vernon."
+
+"Selfish? By Jove!" he exclaimed. "Little you know about selfishness
+when you accuse me of it."
+
+"Oh, Vernon," I said, "I'm just so happy I scarcely know what to do. But
+because I am so happy I don't want the one I love best in all the world
+after yourself to be out in the cold."
+
+"What do you mean by that, Heather dear?"
+
+"Just what I say. I don't want to leave my own darling father absolutely
+miserable."
+
+"Jove! you're right there. But what can you do? You can't part a man
+from his lawful wife."
+
+"No more I can--that's quite true; but I do want to see him and--I must
+see Lady Helen, too. Vernon, you'll help me, won't you?"
+
+"By all means," he answered. "But now, let us talk of ourselves. How
+soon do you think we can be married--in a fortnight? Surely a fortnight
+would be long enough for any reasonable girl."
+
+"I am by no means certain of that," I replied. "I will marry you,
+Vernon, as soon as ever I can put other matters right."
+
+"Oh, but I have a voice in this, for I mean to marry you without a
+moment's delay--that is, I mean that I will give you one fortnight and
+not an hour beyond. It is the fashion now to be married by banns. Well,
+we'll have our banns cried on Sunday next and on the following Sunday
+and the Sunday after, and we can be married on the Monday after that.
+That's about right, isn't it? That's as it ought to be."
+
+"Vernon, you are so--so impulsive."
+
+"Well, little girl, I'm made like that. When I want a thing I generally
+contrive to get it, and that as soon as possible. Jove! I did have work
+in getting you. If I hadn't thought and thought, and very nearly driven
+myself distracted, do you imagine for a single moment I'd have ferreted
+out that secret of Gideon Dalrymple's? So much thinking is exceedingly
+bad for a fellow, Heather, and the sooner you can set his heart at rest,
+the better for his general health."
+
+"All right," I replied. "I will marry you in a fortnight if father is
+happy and if Aunt Penelope is satisfied."
+
+"You needn't doubt her," said Vernon. "I put the question to her before
+you entered the drawing-room. When you were upstairs, putting on that
+pretty frock and tidying your hair, I had the brunt of the business
+settled with her. She likes sharp work; she told me so. When you
+appeared on the scene I was quite like an old family man pouring out the
+tea for her, and all the rest."
+
+"There never was anyone like you," I said, and I took his hand timidly
+in mine.
+
+"Come--this is all nonsense! Kiss me, Heather."
+
+"No, no, Vernon--I--I can't."
+
+"Don't be a dear little goose. I must be paid for what I've done. Kiss
+me this instant."
+
+"It's your place----" I began.
+
+"All right, if that's how you put it."
+
+He clasped his arms round me and drew me close to him and kissed me over
+and over and over again.
+
+"There now," he said; "it's your turn."
+
+"But you have kissed me."
+
+"Of course, I have. I want _you_ to kiss _me_. Now begin. Come, Heather,
+don't be shy."
+
+I did kiss him, and after I had kissed him once I kissed him again, and
+my dark eyes looked into his blue ones, and I seemed to see the
+steadfast, bright, honourable soul that dwelt within his breast, and I
+knew that I was the happiest of girls.
+
+We went slowly back from the Downs into the more shady part of the
+little town. We stopped at Aunt Penelope's house. A great deal had been
+happening in our absence. Buttons was flying about like a creature
+demented, the parrot was calling in a voice loud enough to deafen you:
+"Stop knocking at the door!" and Aunt Penelope was in her very best cap
+and in her softest and most stately black silk dress. She wore black
+silk dresses of the sort which are never seen now. It was thick; it
+would almost stand by itself; it had a ribby sort of texture, and in
+order to enrich the silk it was heavily trimmed with bands of black
+velvet and with a fringe of what they called black bugles. The effect
+was at once dull and extremely handsome. It suited Aunt Penelope to a
+nicety--that and her little cap with the real point lace and the soft
+mauve ribbons.
+
+When I appeared she just nodded to me and said something to Vernon, and
+he said: "Yes, certainly." I ran upstairs. Presently I heard a tap at my
+door. I went to open it; Aunt Penelope stood outside.
+
+"May I come in, Heather?"
+
+"Of course, darling auntie."
+
+I took her hand; I drew her into the room.
+
+"Heather, I know--it's too wonderful. What a splendid fellow! Heather, I
+am glad."
+
+"Oh, auntie, my heart is bursting with happiness!"
+
+"Heather, child, I'm a woman of few words, but if your mother were alive
+she'd be proud of this day. He has the very soul of honesty in his face;
+he is better looking than your poor dear father ever was, but he has the
+same sort of nature, so boyish, so impulsive, so brave. He's a
+dear--that's all that I can say about him."
+
+"And if you weren't a dear for your own sake, you'd be one for calling
+him one," was my somewhat incoherent answer.
+
+"Well, now, that's enough sentiment, child; we must to business. How do
+you like my dress?"
+
+"It's magnificent--and you have put it on in honour of me."
+
+"In honour of a captain in His Majesty's army. Child, I do so greatly
+respect army men."
+
+"Oh, yes, I see. Thank you, so do I. Indeed, it's a very handsome
+dress," I continued.
+
+"I think so," she replied. "It was made fifteen years ago, at least. I
+only wear it on the very best occasions, otherwise it would have got
+greasy ages and ages before now. It's amazing how difficult it is to
+keep these really good silks from turning greasy; the grease seems to
+cling to them in some sort of fashion, and you can never get it out, try
+as you will."
+
+"It looks awfully nice--it really does, auntie."
+
+"I am proud to be wearing it for your sake and for his to-night."
+
+"And you have asked him to dinner?"
+
+"Yes. I have come to speak of that. It is a real dinner; Jonas and I
+have concocted it between us. You are to know nothing about it; you are
+just to eat it when it comes on the table, and to be right-down
+thankful. Now that you are happy you must eat well, for nothing in some
+ways takes it out of one more than happiness. You have been looking
+sadly worn out, child, and now you have got to eat and drink and get
+your pretty, youthful roses back again. Oh, Heather, Vernon agrees with
+me about the world; he hates fashionable people. He told me, dear boy,
+that for a short time he was engaged to one of them. I never met anybody
+so confiding."
+
+"I know all about his engagement," I said. "I saw her once, too; she was
+very handsome."
+
+"Ah, yes; I have no doubt--a society doll. Well, he hasn't chosen badly,
+when he's elected that your little face and your brown eyes and your
+warm heart shall accompany him through life. You'd best smarten yourself
+up a bit for dinner, Heather; I don't want your old aunt to take the
+shine out of you, my love--and, remember, this dress is uncommonly
+handsome."
+
+"Yes, auntie, I know. I shouldn't be surprised if you did take the shine
+out of me; but I don't think I shall greatly mind."
+
+So I put on a pretty white dress, for a few of my dresses had been sent
+from London, doubtless by my dear father's orders, and ran downstairs.
+Bless that boy Buttons--he had effected marvels! The tiny dining room
+was gay with flowers, the very best old dinner service had been got out
+for the occasion, the best silver had been polished up, and I, who was
+accustomed to doing pretty nearly half the work of the house, wasn't
+allowed to put my hand to anything. I really felt annoyed. I did not
+like to be at Hill View without attending to its household economy.
+
+Vernon came in from his rooms at the little hotel, looking spick and
+span, as he always did. We three sat down to dinner, and certainly that
+dinner was a triumph. I have often puzzled myself to wonder how Aunt
+Penelope contrived to manage it. First of all there was soup, the best
+soup I had ever tasted, and then there was fish, trout which had been
+alive a couple of hours before, and then there was pigeon pie and peas
+and potatoes, and afterwards strawberries and cream. There was also a
+bottle of very old port wine, which Aunt Penelope fingered with a
+trembling hand.
+
+"I have had it in the house since long before your mother was married,"
+she said to me. "Vernon, my boy, you will find it worthy of even your
+refined tastes."
+
+Vernon immediately begged to be allowed to draw the cork; he said that
+such precious old wine as that required most tender handling. Aunt
+Penelope and I had a little glass each, and Vernon had one or two, and
+afterwards he told Aunt Penelope something of our plans and how he and I
+were going to London on the morrow to see my father and Lady Helen.
+
+Aunt Penelope nodded her head several times.
+
+"I have only one improvement to make on that plan," she said.
+
+"Oh, but what improvement can you make, auntie?" was my reply.
+
+"I can and I will," she said, with emphasis. "I am quite well now, as
+well as ever. Now what I mean to do is this; I mean to go with you two
+good young people. I will never be in your way, never for a moment, but
+I will guard you from the malicious tongue of Mrs. Grundy. She's a nasty
+old body, and I don't want her to get at you. There's a quiet little
+hotel in Bloomsbury where Heather and I can have rooms, and where we can
+stay, and I make not the slightest doubt that I can help Heather very
+considerably in her dealings with Lady Helen Dalrymple."
+
+"Oh, you can, you can," I said; "it will be quite splendid!"
+
+So the plan was carried out. Jonas was informed that very evening that
+Miss Penelope and I were going to leave Hill View early on the morrow.
+
+"We shall probably be back in a few days," said Aunt Penelope. "In the
+meantime, Jonas, you must attend to the house cleaning; give it a
+thorough turn-out. Wash every scrap of paint, Jonas; be sure you wash
+the backs of the shutters, don't leave a single place with a scrap of
+dirt in it; remember, I'll find it out if it exists--be certain of
+that."
+
+"Yes, mum; thank you, mum," said Jonas. "I'll be sure to do what you
+wish, mum."
+
+"And Jonas, you understand the garden. You can get the grass into order
+and remove all the weeds. We may be having a smart time down here by and
+by, there's no saying, there's no saying at all, but at least remember
+that you haven't a minute to lose. You are a good boy, Jonas, and you'll
+work as hard when I am away as though I were at home."
+
+"Yes, mum; of course, mum," said Jonas. "Me and the parrot," he added.
+
+"Stop knocking at the door!" shouted the parrot.
+
+"There! if that bird isn't enough to split one's head," said Aunt
+Penelope.
+
+She went upstairs. Vernon had already gone back to the hotel. Buttons
+gave me a feeling glance.
+
+"Stay below for a minute, missy. Is it true? Is there nuptials in this
+'ere thing?"
+
+"Yes, Jonas."
+
+"I thought as much. Didn't I twig it when I heard his steps and saw the
+starty sort of way you got into? I'm a smart boy, I am. Missy, you'll
+have me at the wedding, won't you?"
+
+"I promise you, Jonas, you shall certainly come," I answered rashly.
+
+The next day we went up to London. We had no special adventure on our
+journey to town. We went first-class. I remembered my journey down, and
+how interesting I had thought the third-class passengers, but now we
+travelled back in state. Vernon said it would be less tiring for Aunt
+Penelope. When we got to Paddington we drove to the little hotel that
+Aunt Penelope knew about; it was a quiet little place at one corner of a
+small square in Bloomsbury. It was very old-fashioned and not much
+frequented of late. The proprietor, however, knew Aunt Penelope quite
+well. Had he not entertained her and my mother also in the long-ago days
+when they were young? Aunt Penelope was anxious to secure the same
+rooms, and, strange as it may seem, she managed to get them. The
+landlord was very pleased indeed to show them to her, and she told me
+afterwards that the sight of them brought a prickly sensation into the
+back of her eyes, and made her feel inclined to cry. The rooms were
+quiet and clean, and that was the main thing. Vernon did not think much
+of them, but they pleased Aunt Penelope, and that, of course, was the
+most important matter of all.
+
+Having arranged about the rooms, Vernon now suggested that we should
+engage a taxi-cab and drive straight to Hanbury Square, but here Aunt
+Penelope put down her foot.
+
+"What sort of cab did you say, my dear boy?"
+
+"A taxi-cab, auntie." He called her "auntie" from the very moment we
+were properly engaged.
+
+"I don't like new sorts of cabs," replied my aunt. "I want what in my
+young days used to be called a 'growler.' I hate hansoms; I wouldn't
+dare go in one of them."
+
+In vain poor Vernon pleaded for the light and swift motion of the cab
+which was driven by petrol. The old lady held up her hands with horror.
+
+"Not for worlds would I go in a motor-cab," she said. "Vernon, I have
+admired you and stood up for you, but I shall do so no longer if you
+even mention such a thing to me again."
+
+So in the end we three had to drive to my stepmother's in a four-wheeled
+cab. Aunt Penelope said that it was quite a handsome conveyance, and not
+the least like the "growlers" she used to remember in the days when she
+and her sister were young. We got to the great and beautiful house about
+noon. We walked up the steps and Vernon rang the bell.
+
+"Perhaps they'll be out," I could not help whispering in his ear.
+
+"No, I think not," he replied. "I sent a telegram this morning which I
+imagine will keep them at home. Now, you'll keep up your courage, won't
+you, darling?"
+
+"You needn't be afraid," I replied.
+
+He gave my hand a squeeze, and the door was flung open. The automaton
+who opened it could not help becoming flesh and blood when he saw my
+face. A queer flicker went over his countenance; he coloured, faintly
+smiled, then, remembering himself, became a wooden man once again.
+
+"Is Lady Helen in?" I ventured to say.
+
+"Yes, Miss Dalrymple. I'll inquire of her ladyship if she can see you,
+and----" he glanced at Vernon, he looked with downright suspicion at
+Aunt Penelope.
+
+"It is all right," I said. "We can go into the little sitting-room at
+the left of the hall. Will you please say that I have called, and that
+Miss Despard and Captain Carbury are with me? Say that we wish to see
+her ladyship."
+
+"And as soon as possible," snapped Aunt Penelope. "Have the goodness
+further to inform Lady Helen that we are in a considerable hurry, and
+would be glad if she would make it convenient not to keep us waiting
+long."
+
+"Certainly, madam," replied the man. He disappeared, and we waited in
+the little room towards the left of the hall.
+
+"Aunt Penelope, you _are_ brave," I could not help saying.
+
+"I come of a brave stock," said the old lady. "Did not my father die
+when little more than a boy in the battle of Inkerman, and my
+grandfather at Waterloo? Yes, I had need to be brave."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+While Aunt Penelope talked my heart beat very hard. From time to time I
+could not help glancing at Vernon. Was he guessing my thoughts--was he
+understanding?
+
+He stood with his back to us, looking out of the window. Once or twice
+he whistled a little, he whistled a bar of a popular melody; then he
+thrust his hands into his pockets, turned swiftly round, took up a
+newspaper, flung himself into a chair, and pretended to read. I might
+have felt vexed with him, I might even have accused him of want of
+sympathy, if I had not suddenly noticed that he was holding the paper
+upside down--he was not reading at all. He was in reality as excited and
+troubled as I was myself. My heart warmed to him with a great glow when
+I observed this. I felt what good, what splendid friends we would be in
+the future, how like nobody else in all the world he was, and what a
+lucky, very lucky, girl I was to have won him. But no--even at the risk
+of losing my own happiness I would not leave my father to the mercies
+of Lady Helen. Unless that matter could be put right, I would not marry
+my darling Vernon. The thought brought a great soreness into my heart,
+and I felt the tears pricking my eyes from behind, and I was glad when
+our time of suspense was over, for the same flunkey who had opened the
+door for us now appeared, standing on the threshold of the little room
+where we had taken refuge, and said:
+
+"Lady Helen's compliments, and she will be pleased to give you an
+audience, Miss Dalrymple."
+
+"I am coming, too. Does her ladyship know?" inquired Aunt Penelope.
+
+"She said Miss Dalrymple," replied the man.
+
+"Nonsense!" said Aunt Penelope. "We'll all come, my good man. Will you
+have the kindness to show the way? Now march, please; although you're
+wearing such a smart livery, you're not nearly such a good servant as my
+boy Jonas."
+
+The man's name was Robert, and he was one of the most superior servants
+of the house, and I really felt annoyed with Aunt Penelope for attacking
+him in this fashion. He got very red, but then his eyes met mine, and
+something in my eyes must have begged of him to be patient, for he
+certainly was patient, and then, without another word, he went before
+us, and we three followed, and a minute or two later we were in Lady
+Helen's presence.
+
+I was at once relieved and surprised to find that my father was not
+there. It happened to be a very hot day; it was now July, and London was
+suffering from a spell of intensely hot weather. Lady Helen's
+sitting-room looked very cool and inviting. There were soft, bluey-green
+blinds draped across the windows--the effect was a sort of bluey-grey
+mist, at once refreshing and becoming. There were quantities of flowers
+in the room, so much so that Aunt Penelope began to sniff at once. She
+sniffed audibly, and said in a loud aside to Vernon:
+
+"No wonder the poor woman looks ill; such a strong smell of flowers is
+bad for anyone."
+
+Lady Helen herself was in a most wonderful make-up that morning. She had
+a very elegant figure, notwithstanding her years. She was dressed in the
+extreme height of the prevailing mode, and looked--that is, until the
+full light of day shone upon her--like a woman who was between forty and
+fifty, at most. She must have been wearing a completely new arrangement
+on her head; I cannot call it her own hair, for I happened to know that
+it was only hers in the sense that she had honestly paid for it. It was
+of a pale golden shade; when last I saw her she was wearing chestnut
+curls. This _coiffure_ was arranged in the most becoming manner on the
+top of her head, and fell in soft little ringlets round her ears and
+about her neck. Her dress was of the "coat and skirt" style, cut in
+tailor fashion, and extremely smart. On the back of her golden head she
+wore an enormous black crinoline hat, trimmed with great ostrich tips;
+altogether her appearance was too wonderful for Aunt Penelope to bear
+long with patience. She was standing up as we entered the room, and now
+she came quickly towards us.
+
+"How do you do, Heather?" she said to me. "I am quite willing to see you
+again, but this lady and this gentleman!"
+
+"You know me very well, Lady Helen," said Vernon. "I am that Captain
+Carbury who stood by your brother's death-bed--who hold his written
+confession, and who is about to marry Heather Grayson."
+
+"All nonsense, all nonsense!" said Lady Helen.
+
+"But I thought----" I began.
+
+Lady Helen looked at Aunt Penelope.
+
+"It does not matter what you think, Heather; you are only a child. May I
+be informed who this lady is--the lady who has dared to come into my
+presence uninvited?"
+
+"My name, madam, is Miss Despard, and I am real own aunt to Heather
+Grayson. Heather Grayson's mother, the first wife of Major Grayson,
+happened to be my sister. I presume therefore, madam, that I have a
+right over this young girl, more particularly as she lived with me, and
+I trained her, and educated her from the time she was eight years old
+until she was eighteen."
+
+"Ah, yes," said Lady Helen in a soft voice; "that dreadful time, those
+ten terrible years!"
+
+"We all know the story of those years; you are, of course, aware of
+that," said Captain Carbury at that moment.
+
+Lady Helen gave him a quick glance.
+
+"Yes," she said suddenly. "You observe my dress. I am in mourning for my
+dear one."
+
+Her voice trembled for a minute. I looked at her and saw that she was
+really sorry for the man who was dead.
+
+"He is in his grave," she continued, "poor, dear Gideon! We did what we
+could for him, your father and I. Now our one desire is to let his poor
+bones rest in peace."
+
+"Perhaps it is, madam," said Vernon just then, "but there are other
+people who have a say in the matter. Now, Heather, it is time for you to
+speak."
+
+I looked at Lady Helen and took my courage in my hands.
+
+"Stepmother----"
+
+"Oh! You acknowledge that I am your stepmother? Well, what have you to
+say for yourself? You have been a nice stepdaughter to me!"
+
+"I could not help it," I said. "I never intended to be nasty to you."
+
+"Well, I don't wish to complain. But who gave you all the good things
+you enjoyed, your dress, your home, your fun, your pleasure, your good
+time all round? Answer me that question--who gave you those things?"
+
+"You did."
+
+"Ah! I'm glad you acknowledge it."
+
+"Of course I acknowledge it."
+
+"And do you think you have behaved well to me in return? Because I did
+the very best possible for you and because a needy, poor man, almost a
+pauper, for he has practically no private means, came and demanded your
+hand, and your father and I considered it an improper and unsuitable
+request, you took the bit between your teeth, and, without a word,
+without a hint, ran away. Never shall I forget our return from Brighton
+and the agony that your poor father, whom you profess to love, was in.
+You ran away. Why did you run away?"
+
+"Because I couldn't do what you wanted."
+
+"And you did even worse," continued Lady Helen, "for I have discovered
+everything. You had the audacity, the impropriety--you, a young girl--to
+go to Lord Hawtrey's, and to try to interview him. Oh, yes; I have heard
+that story, and I know what it means; and a nice meaning it has for you,
+miss--a very nice meaning, indeed!"
+
+"You broke my heart and went away to the country and took father with
+you," I said. "I could think of no one else. I went to him because I
+knew he was a gentleman, and would act as such."
+
+"Suppose we come to the matter in hand," interrupted Vernon, who was
+getting impatient at all this dallying.
+
+"Yes, that's right, Vernon; that's right. Keep her to the point,"
+exclaimed Aunt Penelope.
+
+I looked back at them both. Aunt Penelope's bright eyes were like little
+pin points in her head; they were fixed on Lady Helen's got-up face. She
+had really never before, in the whole course of her life, met such a
+woman. She was studying her from every point of view.
+
+"I have come here, stepmother," I said, "to tell you that I--I--know all
+the story with regard to my--my darling father. Vernon has told me, and
+Vernon and I have made up our minds to marry, and father has given his
+consent, and we mean to be married, if all comes right, in about----"
+
+"Best say a week, Heather," interrupted Vernon.
+
+"In about a fortnight from now," I continued.
+
+"Well, if you must put it off so long," he remarked, leaning back in his
+chair.
+
+"But the question I have come here to-day to ask is this," I continued.
+"What is to become of my father?"
+
+"The more proper thing for you to say, Heather Dalrymple, is this: What
+is to become of the man who has had the good fortune to marry Lady Helen
+Dalrymple?"
+
+"But I don't think it a good fortune at all," I said. "Oh, Lady Helen,
+I must speak the truth; I can't beat about the bush any longer. My dear,
+my darling father is not a bit happy, not a bit! He did what he did--oh!
+it was so noble of him!--to--save your brother--I know the whole story.
+Oh, he was a hero! But must all his life be sacrificed because he is a
+hero? Your brother is in his grave; give my own dad back his freedom;
+let him come and live with Vernon and me!"
+
+"Upon my word, I never heard of such a request in all my life!"
+
+"But you will do it," I said. "There need be no scandal; you can go
+abroad or anywhere you like, and I am sure father will visit you
+sometimes, and no one need think anything about that, and--and you know
+you're not really fond of father, because if you were you would not make
+him so terribly unhappy. Oh, do let him come and live with us!"
+
+"You take my breath away! You are the most audacious, dreadful girl I
+ever came across. What do you take me for?"
+
+"Lady Helen, I know you have a heart somewhere."
+
+She looked at me. The rims round her eyes were blackened, her eyebrows
+were artificially darkened, her face was powdered--could I get at any
+soul behind that much bedecked exterior? Bedecked, do I call it?
+Disfigured is the word I ought to use.
+
+"Lady Helen," I said suddenly, "give my father his happiness! Don't, oh,
+don't be cruel to him any longer, I beg of you, I beseech of you!"
+
+"Child, don't make a fool of yourself." Lady Helen rose.
+
+"Listen, you good people," she said. "This little Heather Dalrymple, my
+stepdaughter, would never have thought of such an absurd and ridiculous
+scheme but for you; you, Miss Despard, and you, Captain Carbury, thought
+this thing out. You wanted to drag me before the world as a woman
+separated from her husband; you thought to disgrace me before the eyes
+of the world, and you imagined that I would obey the whim of a child. I
+know better. Heather, I distinctly and once for all refuse your
+request."
+
+"Then, madam, it is my turn to say something," cried Vernon.
+
+"You must say it pretty quickly, sir, for my motor-car will be round in
+a few minutes."
+
+"I fear your car must wait. You have an important matter to listen to.
+It is this. You love your brother, and we all, even the most hardened of
+us, have a feeling of respect towards the dead. But I can at least
+assure you that there is such a thing as even greater respect for the
+living who have been wronged, and the entire story of Major Grayson's
+conduct shall be published before the world unless you agree to what
+this young lady proposes. He will come out very much a hero, I fancy;
+but your conduct in the matter will not be quite so gratifying to you
+and your friends."
+
+"I echo every single word that Captain Carbury says!" exclaimed Aunt
+Penelope. "I am very outspoken, and from first to last I have always
+detested everything I have heard about you, Lady Helen; and now that I
+see you I hate you more than ever. It would give me sincere pleasure to
+drag your crime into the light. What right had you to work on the
+feelings of the most tender-hearted of men in order to save your brother
+from the shame and the punishment his sin deserved? My poor noble
+brother-in-law volunteered to take your wicked brother's place. Why,
+Lady Helen, it was a Christ-like deed! The least he can get for the rest
+of his days, poor fellow, is peace and happiness. Oh, yes, you can
+refuse, but the moment you do so the whole of this affair shall be
+placed in the hands of my solicitors, for I am determined that my
+brother-in-law and my niece's father shall no longer be considered
+unworthy to be a true soldier of our late Queen."
+
+"You can leave me," said Lady Helen. "Go at once, all three of you;
+don't attempt to stay another moment in my presence. You drive me mad!
+Go--go--go! Oh, I shall have hysterics! I--Heather, ring the bell; my
+maid must come to me; I feel the attack coming on. Oh, you awful people!
+Heather, you can stay if you like; you don't mean to be cruel, I know
+you don't. I who have suffered so sorely--I who am broken-hearted! But
+leave me, you two others; leave me at once--at once!"
+
+"Not until my niece goes with me do I stir one step out of this room,"
+said Aunt Penelope.
+
+"Well, Heather child, if you must go you must. Oh, try to turn their
+wicked, cruel hearts! but I--yes I----"
+
+"What do you mean to do?" said Vernon. "You haven't told us that yet."
+
+"Nothing, I tell you--nothing. You can't be so cruel--so monstrous!"
+
+"Miss Despard's address is 90A, Torrington Square, W.C.," said Vernon,
+in his calmest voice; "that address will find her and Heather and me any
+time between now and noon to-morrow. If at noon to-morrow we have not
+heard from you, we shall be forced to draw our own conclusions--namely,
+that you have refused to consider Heather's most natural petition, that
+she should be allowed to make her father happy. It will then be our duty
+to put the matter absolutely into the hands of Messrs. Fenchurch and
+Grace, Miss Despard's solicitors."
+
+Lady Helen sank back again in her chair, her eyes shone with feverish
+hate.
+
+"Leave me, you terrible people!" she said. "Go, all of you!"
+
+We went.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+We said very little to each other that night at the comfortable little
+hotel. I think we were all very tired. Aunt Penelope went early to bed,
+Vernon and I stayed downstairs and talked about our future. We talked
+languidly, however; our thoughts were not even with our own happy future
+at that moment. I was thinking all the time of my father, and I know
+well that Vernon was thinking of him also. Aunt Penelope went to bed
+between nine and ten o'clock; it was between ten and eleven when the
+door of the private sitting-room was flung open and a servant announced:
+"Major Grayson," and my dear father came in. His face was flushed, and
+his eyes looked feverishly bright. He came up to us both with his hands
+extended.
+
+"My dear, good, kind children," he said; then he paused for a minute
+until the waiter had shut the door. Then he took me into his arms and
+kissed me half a dozen times, and then he wrung Vernon's hand and said,
+"My dear boy--my good boy!" Afterwards we all got a little calmer and
+sat down, I sinking close to father's side and Vernon standing opposite
+to us.
+
+"Come, now," said father, after a minute's pause, "you must give it all
+up, you know. Yes, Vernon, my boy, you must give it up, and so must that
+dear Pen, and so must my little Heather. I am but fulfilling a promise
+made long years ago. You none of you understand. I'll pull along
+somehow, in some kind of fashion, but I won't drag that poor woman's
+name into the dust. You see, my children, she doesn't know what it
+means, but I do. I have plenty of strength in me--the great strength of
+innocence, which supported me all through my terrible period of
+imprisonment, and also the strength which is but seldom given to a
+woman. Anyhow, she is not to suffer; I put down my foot. She has told me
+all; I found her in a terrible state; I had to send a doctor to her. She
+is in bed now; he was obliged to give her a soothing draught. Children,
+both of you, I shall live in your happiness, and my own does not matter.
+I can't desert Helen Dalrymple, and, what's more, I won't!"
+
+"Oh, Daddy!" I said. "Oh, Daddy!"
+
+I laid my head on his shoulder and began to sob.
+
+"I can't live without you," I whispered, and I pressed my lips to his
+rough cheek and kissed him. He put his arm round me very firmly.
+
+"You will live and be very happy, little girl. And now, look here; I
+could not leave our house in Hanbury Square until Helen was asleep, then
+I thought I'd come round and have a talk with you. When she wakens she
+must be told that you are not going to do anything. She will drop you
+out of her life, Heather, and so much the better--yes, so much the
+better. I can get a promise out of her that I shall come and see you now
+and again, and when I do come I can assure you, my two dear young
+people, I shall be as jolly as a sand-boy; you won't have anything to
+complain of on that score. But while I'm here I'll just hold to the
+bargain I made long years ago."
+
+"Oh, father, father!" I said. "Why did you make it? Why did you do it?
+Why did you sacrifice yourself for her and for that man?"
+
+"Hush, child! You can't read all a man's motives. At that time I--I
+really cared for Lady Helen. Not, perhaps, Heather, as I loved your
+mother, but I was fond of her, undoubtedly; and if this trouble had
+never come I should probably have married her. She loved me too. I'll
+tell you one or two things I left out the other day. I had proposed to
+her long before that fearful scandal came to our ears in connection with
+her brother. She had refused me. I had begged and prayed her to be my
+wife, but she had firmly refused. Then I got into debt; I always was an
+extravagant slap-dash sort of person. I was very unhappy, and I brought
+you back to England--you remember that time, don't you, little woman?"
+
+"Oh, yes," I said, trying to bring my thoughts back to the distant past.
+
+"She wanted me to do so. She thought it very bad to have a child as old
+as you in India. I settled with your aunt to keep you. My debts haunted
+me and although Lady Helen refused to marry me, she lent me money to pay
+my debts. I went back to India, and then the thunderclap came. Lady
+Helen's brother would undoubtedly have been arrested if I had not thrown
+myself into the breach. I thought out a plan very quickly; I liked Helen
+and I pitied her, and I did not think my own life worth saving. I went
+to Helen and told her that I could put the officers of justice off the
+scent and get the crime fastened on myself, and I would do so on
+condition that she married me when I came out of prison. She agreed,
+and there we are. Now, my dear Heather, as that's the story, I could not
+go back from my bargain now."
+
+"It was a very bad bargain for you," I could not help saying. I trembled
+very much, and the tears rolled down my cheeks.
+
+"But we must keep our bargains, whether they are good or bad, Heather,"
+whispered my father to me. "That is the law of life: as we sow we shall
+reap. And I am not altogether unhappy, not since this good fellow has
+found out the truth and I am cleared in his eyes, and in the eyes of
+you, my child, and in my sister-in-law's eyes. Nothing else greatly
+matters. Heather, you are in the morning of your days, I am in the
+evening of life. When we come to the evening of life nothing concerns
+us, except so to live that we may fear God and do His commandments, and
+so fulfil the duty of man. That's about all, child. I am more grateful
+to you than I can say, and more than grateful to you, Carbury. Give poor
+dear Pen my love when she wakes, and tell her that it is quite all
+right--yes, quite all right. I am in the evening of life, and I will do
+my duty worthily to the very end."
+
+As father said the last words he got up. He took me in his arms and
+kissed me; there was a solemnity about his kiss, and his dear, bright
+blue eyes looked softer than I had seen them for a long time.
+
+"Heather, you're the image of your mother," he said abruptly. "And
+she--bless her memory!--she was the one woman in all the world for me."
+
+Then he wrung Vernon's hand and went away. We could not detain him. I
+sat up for a little longer with Vernon, and then I went upstairs to bed.
+Vernon was staying in an hotel not far away.
+
+All that long night I lay awake, not for one minute could I slumber. My
+past seemed to come before my eyes, it seemed to torture me. I felt
+somehow as though I were passing into a region of great darkness, as
+though I were going--I, myself--through the Valley of the Shadow of
+Death. What right--oh, what right had I to be happy when my father, my
+darling father, was thought so cruelly of by the world! I felt I could
+not bear it. I got up, I paced the floor, I drank cold water, I went to
+bed again, I tried every dodge for coaxing sleep to come to me, but
+sleep would not obey my mandate. At last morning broke, and with the
+first blush of dawn I got up. I was downstairs and in the breakfast-room
+when Vernon appeared. He brought in some beautiful roses; he laid them
+on my plate.
+
+"Have you told Aunt Penelope yet?" he asked.
+
+"No," I replied. "I have not seen her since last night."
+
+Just at that moment my dear auntie entered the room.
+
+"Well, children," she said, "I hope you have slept well. I have. I have
+got a great accession of strength and am determined to go right through
+with this matter. We'll wait here, as promised, until twelve o'clock,
+then we'll go straight to my solicitors, and, hey, presto! the thing is
+done. That fine madam will be down on her knees to us before the day is
+over. I know the sort--horrible, painted wretch!"
+
+"You will have some breakfast before you do anything else, won't you?"
+said Vernon.
+
+He took the head of the breakfast table. Really nothing could ever
+discompose Captain Carbury. He poured out tea and coffee for us both.
+Aunt Penelope ate her breakfast with appetite; then she desired me to
+sit by the window and watch.
+
+"We have given her till twelve o'clock, but the woman may send round
+long before then, that's what I am expecting."
+
+I looked at Vernon. The waiter had removed the breakfast things; we had
+the room to ourselves. Vernon went and shut the door, then he came up to
+Aunt Penelope and took her hand.
+
+"Twelve o'clock won't make any difference, my dear friend," he said.
+
+"Why, what on earth do you mean, Vernon?" was her remark. "You surely
+are not backing out of it!"
+
+"Heather and I can have nothing to do with it."
+
+"You and Heather? what nonsense you talk! I don't believe I am hearing
+you aright."
+
+"Yes, you are. Major Grayson was here last night; he came after you had
+gone to bed. He doesn't wish it done; he says he will abide by his
+bargain. He is as brave a soldier as I have ever come across, and for my
+part I don't see why he should be deprived of his laurel wreath."
+
+"Oh, what are you talking about!" said Aunt Penelope. "His laurel
+wreath! Why, you know as well as I do that he's cashiered from the
+army. And you call that a glory, or whatever else you consider a laurel
+wreath!"
+
+"In the eyes of God he is a hero, and he doesn't much mind what man
+says. Now, I'll tell you everything. You've got to listen--you can't go
+against a noble spirit like his."
+
+Aunt Penelope fidgeted and trembled. A great spot of pink colour came on
+one of her cheeks, leaving the other pale.
+
+"Well, have your say," she murmured. "Have your say, I'm sure I don't
+care."
+
+But when Vernon had done speaking, there was my dear old auntie crying
+as though her heart would break. I was about to comfort her, or at least
+to try to do so, when there came a hasty knock at the door. A servant
+appeared with a telegram on a salver. Vernon tore it open, it was
+addressed to him, and had been brought across from his hotel. His face
+turned pale.
+
+"There is no answer," he said to the man, who withdrew. Then he put his
+hand on my shoulder, and with his other hand he drew Aunt Penelope to
+her feet.
+
+"I have something to tell you both," he said. "We are sent for; we have
+to go to Hanbury Square. There has been a very bad accident. I cannot
+quite understand this telegram, but he is hurt. His motor came into
+collision with another last night, and he was thrown out and hurt rather
+badly on his head. It may not be a great deal; it may be--everything. We
+are to go at once."
+
+Now I knew why I had lain awake all that long night, why I had felt
+instinctively that there was a dark cloud coming up and up and
+enveloping my sky. I did not say a word. There are times when one cannot
+shed tears, tears are so inadequate. I ran upstairs and put on my hat
+and jacket, and Aunt Penelope stumbled after me and got into her outdoor
+things, and Vernon had a carriage at the door, and in a few minutes we
+were off.
+
+A few minutes later we found ourselves in Hanbury Square. There were two
+doctors' carriages at the door, but they moved away to make room for us.
+We entered. The servants looked distracted, the solemn sort of order
+which always prevailed in that great house was lacking on that special
+morning. An elderly man, with a fine head and a shock of snow-white
+hair, was coming down the stairs. He turned in the hall and looked at us
+three, and especially he looked at me.
+
+"Am I right or wrong," he said, "but do you happen to be the young lady
+my patient is calling out for?"
+
+"Father," I said. "My father; you are speaking of my father?"
+
+"I am speaking of Major Dalrymple."
+
+"He is my father."
+
+"And his name is Grayson," snapped Aunt Penelope.
+
+The doctor took no notice of her, but he put his hand on mine.
+
+"You've got to be very brave, my dear," he said. "I'm glad you have
+come. He is ill, you know; in fact, rather bad; in fact, very bad. Come
+softly, I'll take you up to his room."
+
+I followed the doctor. We went up to the first floor. The doctor turned
+the handle of a door. There was a spacious room; within it looked like a
+hospital ward. Most of the furniture had been removed, the floor was
+covered with white linen, stretched very tightly over the thick carpet.
+A narrow bedstead had been drawn out into the centre of the room, the
+curtains had been removed. There was a table covered with white cloths,
+on which bottles had been placed. There were two trained nurses moving
+softly about the room.
+
+A man lay stretched on his back in the centre of the bed. I went quickly
+up to him.
+
+"Now, show courage, don't give way," said the doctor.
+
+I knelt down by the man and looked into his eyes.
+
+"I said you'd come."
+
+His voice was so low I could scarcely recognise it, but his eyes smiled
+at me. There never were such blue eyes, there never was anyone in all
+the world who could smile as sweetly as my father. I knelt by him
+without speaking one word. The doctor stood behind me without moving.
+Presently my father raised his voice a trifle.
+
+"Leave us two quite alone," he said.
+
+The doctor and the nurses immediately went out. When there was no one
+else present my father said:
+
+"Stoop very low, Heather."
+
+I did stoop.
+
+"I said last night 'the evening of life'--the night has come. You will
+keep my secret always? Promise."
+
+"Yes," I said.
+
+He smiled at me again and then closed his eyes.
+
+The doctor came back. Suddenly he bent forward and put his hand on my
+father's hand and felt where his pulse ought to be, and then he said to
+me:
+
+"Come away, my dear," and I went.
+
+They asked me downstairs, those two who waited, what my father had said,
+and what had happened, but I only replied: "I will keep his secret--we
+must all keep it--for his dear sake."
+
+I have kept it to this day. I am a happy wife and mother now, and the
+old things are passed away. I never see Lady Helen, and I am glad of
+that. I like to forget that she ever came into my life, and into
+father's. Father, of course, is very happy, happier than any of us. I
+talk to my children about him on Sunday evenings, and we wonder together
+what he is doing in the land where there are no secrets, and where no
+one is misunderstood.
+
+
+PRINTED BY CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    _BOOKS FOR YOUNG WOMEN_
+
+
+    BETTY OF THE RECTORY
+    By L. T. MEADE
+
+    FLAMING JUNE
+    By MRS. G. DE HORNE VAIZEY
+
+    WILD HEATHER
+    By L. T. MEADE
+
+
+    CASSELL AND CO., LTD.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41826 ***