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diff --git a/43169.txt b/43169.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 04e429c..0000000 --- a/43169.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9486 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Philippa, by Mrs Molesworth - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Philippa - -Author: Mrs Molesworth - -Illustrator: J. Finnemore - -Release Date: July 9, 2013 [EBook #43169] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHILIPPA *** - - - - -Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England - - - - -Philippa -By Mrs Molesworth -Illustrations by J. Finnemore -Published by J.B. Lipincott Company, Philadelphia. -This edition dated 1896. - -Philippa, by Mrs Molesworth. - -________________________________________________________________________ - -________________________________________________________________________ -PHILIPPA, BY MRS MOLESWORTH. - -CHAPTER ONE. - -GOOD-BYES. - -Autumn--scarcely late autumn yet--and the day had been mild. But as the -afternoon wore on towards evening, there came the chilliness and early -gloom inevitable at the fall of the year--accompanied, to those who are -sensitive to such things, by the indescribable touch of melancholy never -present in the same way at other seasons. - -Philippa Raynsworth shivered slightly, though half-unconscious that she -did so, and turned towards the shelter of the friendly porch just at her -side. As she moved, a hand was laid on her shoulder. - -"Come in, you silly girl," said its owner. "Do you want to catch cold?" - -Philippa had been watching the gradual disappearance of a carriage down -the long drive, till a turn in the road suddenly hid it altogether. -Others had been watching it too, but she was standing somewhat aloof-- -she had no special interest in the departing guests; she had never seen -them till to-day, and might very probably never see them again. But -something nevertheless had impressed her--the kind of day, the approach -of the gloaming, the evening scents from the garden, the little shy -breeze that murmured and grew silent again--there was a plaintive -harmony in it all, and even the prosaic, measured sound of the horses' -feet, growing fainter and fainter, and the carriage receding from sight -while the "good-byes" still seemed hovering about, all fitted in. She -did not seek to define what it reminded her of, or what feelings it -awakened in her. It was just a scene--a passing impression, or possibly -a lasting one. There is never any accounting for the permanence of -certain spots in our experience--why some entirely trivial incident or -sensation should remain indented on our memory for ever; while others -which we would fain recall, some which it seems extraordinary that we -should ever be able to forget, fade as if they had never been--who can -say? - -"I was just coming in," Philippa replied, with a slight sense of feeling -ashamed of herself. She hated any approach to what she called -"affectation," and she glanced quickly to where the little group had -stood but a moment before. It had dispersed. There was no one to be -seen but her cousin Maida and herself, and with a sense of relief -Philippa stopped again. - -"Wait a moment, Maida," she said. "There is really no danger of -catching cold, and it is nice out here. It will feel hot and _indoors_ -in the drawing-room, with the tea still about and the talking. Let us -stay here just for a moment and watch the evening creeping in. _You_ -understand the feeling I mean, I'm sure?" - -Miss Lermont did not at once reply. She was older than Philippa--a -great deal older she would have said herself, and in some ways it would -have been true, though not in all. She had suffered much in her life, -which, after all, had not been a very long one, for she was barely -thirty; she had suffered more, probably, than any one realised, and-- -even a harder trial--she knew that she would have to suffer a great deal -more still, if she lived. All this, the remembrance of suffering past, -and to some extent still present, and the anticipation, in itself an -additional present suffering, of what was yet to come, had made her old -before her time. Yet it had kept her young, too, by its intensification -of her power of sympathy. It is not all sufferers who acquire this -peculiar sympathy, nor is it the only good gift to be gained by passing -through the fire. But Maida Lermont's sympathy was remarkable. It was -not solely or even principally for physical suffering, though to all but -the few who knew her well, physical suffering only had been _her_ fire. - -"She has a happy nature," most people would say of her, "though, of -course, she has had a great deal to bear. I really don't think any one -so constitutionally cheerful is as much to be pitied as nervous patients -or _very_ sensitive people. There are, no doubt, some who feel pain -much more than others. And then the Lermonts are rich. She has -everything she wants." - -How little they knew! Maida was _not_ "constitutionally cheerful"--the -worst side, by far the worst, of her suffering had been to her, her -vivid consciousness of the wreck it might make of her altogether--mind, -heart, and soul. - -But she had conquered, and more than conquered. She had emerged from -her trial not only chastened, but marvellously lifted and widened. -Intellect and spirit had risen to a higher place, and the rare and -delightful power of her sympathy knew no limits. It unlocked doors to -her as if she were the possessor of a magic key. Philippa was right -when she turned to her cousin with the words "you understand." - -"Yes," she said, after her momentary delay--a delay spent in gazing -before her with her young cousin's words in her ears. "Yes--it is -fascinating to get inside nature, as it were, sometimes--to feel it all. -I love to watch the evening coming, as you say, and I love to watch the -dawn creeping up--even more, I think. That has fallen to my lot oftener -than to yours, I hope, Philippa." She smiled as she spoke, so her -cousin was not afraid to laugh softly. - -"I am generally fast asleep at that time, I must confess. But even if I -were awake, I should not care for it as much as for evening. And to-day -it all seemed of a piece. You know it is my last evening here--and I -heard you all saying good-bye to those people who have just gone, and -Lady Mary's voice sounded so silvery when she called back `good-night' -for the last time. Don't you think, Maida, that there is _always_ -something pathetic, if we stopped to think about it, in farewells, even -if we expect to meet again quite soon? One never can be _sure_ that a -good-bye may not be a real good-bye." - -"Yes, I have often felt that. And the real good-byes, as you call them, -are so seldom known to be such. Last times are not often thought to be -last times--strangely seldom, indeed." - -"And yet there must be a last time to _everything_," said Philippa, -"even to the most commonplace little details of life." - -They were silent for a moment or two. - -Then said Miss Lermont: - -"I hope you will come back to us soon again, dear; I should like you to -see more of the neighbourhood and the neighbours." - -"I like what I _have_ seen of both," said Philippa. "Lady Mary is a -dear little thing." - -"All the Bertrands are pleasant, kindly people," Maida replied. "They -are happy people, and allow that they are so. It is refreshing nowadays -when so many are either peculiarly unhappy, or determined to think -themselves so. By-the-by, what a very silent man that friend of Captain -Bertrand's is. Mr Gresham, I mean." - -"I scarcely spoke to him," said Philippa, adding, with a laugh, "but he -certainly scarcely spoke to me, so I have no reason for disagreeing with -you." - -"Very silent people are almost worse than very talkative ones," said -Maida. "I suppose you are a very lively party at home, now, with Evelyn -and the children." - -"Fairly so. Evey fusses a little, but she is always sweet, and we love -having them. We shall miss them terribly when Duke comes home and they -go to him, though I suppose it would be selfish not to be glad when he -does. _I_ shall miss them almost the most of all." - -"They keep you pretty busy, I daresay." - -"Ye-es, but not too busy. I am so thankful not to be one of those poor -girls who can't find anything to do. There is no doubt about what _I_ -have to do. But things are much clearer than they were, now that papa -is better. And when Charlie is at home for good, they will be easier -still." - -"We shall have you crying for work to do then," said Maida, smiling. - -But Philippa shook her head. - -"I don't think so," she said. - -Miss Lermont turned to go in. - -"Come, Philippa; we really shall catch, cold if we stay out here -longer," and Philippa followed her into the house. - -"How few people understand each other!" thought the elder woman, as she -went across the hall and down the wide passage to the drawing-room. -"Nobody, to see her as she commonly is, would think that Philippa had -those undertones in her character--that tenderness and sensitiveness -that come out now and then. She seems just a very charming girl--bright -and energetic, and full of humour." - -And two minutes later, when Maida was resting on her sofa again, and -heard Philippa's voice in spite of her reluctance to return to the -"talking," one of the liveliest in the family party, and noticed her -quick tactful readiness to suit herself to whatever was going on, the -contrast with the dreamy girl who had stood gazing at the darkening sky -outside, responsive to every whisper of Nature's evening prayer, struck -her even more. - -"She is very interesting," thought Miss Lermont. "I care for her -increasingly every day." - -It was Philippa's first visit to Dorriford. The relationship was not a -very near one--only that of second cousins on the parents' side. And -the Lermonts were very rich, and almost unavoidably self-engrossed, -though not selfish. For they were a large family party, though Maida, -the second daughter, was now the only unmarried one left at home. But a -constant succession of incursions from married sons and daughters, -unexpected swoopings down or turnings up of younger brothers from India, -or grandchildren "for the holidays," kept the house in a state of -never-ending, active hospitality. It was accident--a chance meeting, -that is to say, which had brought about renewed intercourse between the -Lermonts and Philippa's family, resulting in a week's visit on the young -girl's part. - -It was to a great extent a new experience to her. Her family "lines" -were cast in very different places to luxurious Dorriford; her life, -though happily far from an intellectually narrow one, had been passed -amidst the restrictions of small means and many cares; her work, almost -indeed before she had left childhood behind her, had been "cut out" for -her distinctly enough. - -The next morning brought her own farewells to Dorriford and its inmates. - -"I have enjoyed myself so much," she said, with her usual heartiness, to -Mrs Lermont, when it came to saying good-bye. "It really has been a -treat to me, and it will be a treat to them all at home to hear about -it." - -"Well, then, dear, I hope you will soon come to see us again," said her -hostess, kindly. "_We_ have enjoyed having you, I assure you." - -"Thank you for saying so," Philippa replied. "But as for coming again -_soon_," and she shook her head. "Some time or other I shall hope to do -so, but not soon, I fear." - -"They cannot well spare you, I daresay. But after all, they could -surely always do without you for a week. So you must pay us more -frequent visits, if they cannot be long ones." - -"If it were nearer," said Philippa, "there is nothing I should enjoy -more. But you see, dear Mrs Lermont," she went on naively, "it isn't -only the `sparing' me. I am not so tremendously important as all that. -It is also that we can't afford much travelling about." Mrs Lermont -looked uncomfortable. - -"How I wish I had spoken of it before!" she thought. "She will perhaps -be hurt at it now that she has said that herself. I wish I had taken -Maida's advice." - -She glanced round; there was no one within hearing. She half-nervously -slipped her hand into her pocket. - -"Philippa, my dear," she began, "you must _promise_ me not to mind what -I am going to say. I--I know--of course it is only natural I should-- -relations as you are--that you have to consider such things, and I--I -had prepared this." She held out a small envelope addressed to "Miss -Raynsworth." - -"You will accept it, dear to please me? And I want you to remember that -whenever you can come to us, the cost of the journey must not enter into -your consideration. That must be _my_ affair. If there were no other -reason, the pleasure that having you here gives Maida, makes me beg you -to let this be understood." - -The old lady spoke nervously, and a pink flush rose to her face. But -the moment the tone of Philippa's voice in reply reached her, she felt -relieved. - -"How _very_ good of you, dear Mrs Lermont!" she exclaimed, heartily. -"I never thought of such a thing; if I had--" She stopped and coloured a -little, but without a touch of hurt feeling. "I was going to say," she -went on, laughingly, "that if I _had_ dreamt of such kindness, I would -not have alluded to the expense. But you had thought of it before I -said anything about it, hadn't you? And of course you know we are not -at all rich. `Mind,'" as Mrs Lermont murmured something; "no, of -course, I don't mind, except that I think you are very, very kind, and I -am sure they will all think so at home too." - -She kissed her cousin again, and the old lady patted her affectionately -on the shoulder as she did so. - -"Then it is a bargain," she said. "Whenever they can spare you-- -remember." - -Philippa nodded in reply, though she had not time to speak, for just -then came one of her cousins' voices from the hall, bidding her hurry up -if she did not mean to miss the train. - -"She is a thoroughly nice, sensible girl," said Mrs Lermont to her -daughter, when Maida entered the drawing-room that morning an hour or -two later. - -"Yes," Maida replied. "She is all that and more. I like her extremely. -But I do not know that life will be to her quite what one would feel -inclined to predict, judging her as she seems now." - -"How do you mean?" said her mother. "I should say she will get on very -well, and meet troubles pretty philosophically when they come. She is -not spoilt, and there is nothing fantastic or in the least morbid about -her." - -"N-no," Miss Lermont agreed. "But she is more inexperienced than she -thinks, and though not spoilt in the ordinary sense of the word, she has -not really had much to try her. And her nature is deeper than you would -think--deeper than she knows herself." - -"Possibly so," Mrs Lermont replied. "But though you are certainly not -morbid, Maida, I think you _are_ a trifle fantastic--about other people, -never about yourself. You study them so, and I think you put your own -ideas into your pictures of them. Now _I_ should say that Philippa -Raynsworth is just the sort of girl to go through life in a -comfortable--and by that I don't mean selfish--satisfactory sort of way, -without anything much out of the commonplace. She has plenty of energy, -and, above all, any amount of common-sense." Maida laughed. This sort -of discussion was not very uncommon between the mother and daughter; -they were much together, owing to Mrs Lermont's increasing lameness and -Maida's chronic delicacy, and often alone. And they understood each -other well, though in many ways they were very different. - -"Perhaps you are right, mother," the daughter said, "Perhaps I do work -up people in my imagination till they grow quite unlike what they really -are. People, some especially, interest me so," she went on, -thoughtfully. "I feel very grateful to my fellow-creatures; thinking -them over helps to make my life much pleasanter than it might otherwise -be." - -Mrs Lermont glanced at her half anxiously. It was so seldom that Maida -alluded to the restrictions and deprivations of her lot. - -"I am sure, dear, you always think of them in the kindest possible way; -you may be critical, but you are certainly not cynical," and she glanced -at her daughter affectionately. Mrs Lermont was an affectionate mother -to all her children, but her daughter Maida had the power of drawing out -a strain of tenderness of which one would scarcely have suspected the -existence in her. Miss Lermont smiled back. - -"I am glad you think so, mother," she said; "all the same, I often feel -I should be on my guard lest the interest of dissecting others' -characters should lead me too far. As for Philippa, I shall be only too -glad, poor child, if her life is a happy and uncomplicated one." And -the subject for the time was dropped, though Maida's memory, above all -where her affections were concerned, was curiously retentive. From that -time her young cousin had her own place in what Maida sometimes to -herself called her invisible picture-gallery; there were many touches -still wanting to the completion of the portrait, some which no one could -have predicted. - -Philippa herself, tranquilly seated in the corner of her second-class -railway compartment, would have been not a little astonished could she -have overheard what her cousins were saying about her--_herself_ was -not, as a rule, the subject of her cogitations. - -It was a long journey to Marlby, the nearest station to Philippa's home; -long, comparatively speaking, that is to say, for the length of -journeys, like the measure of many other things, is but a relative -matter, and the young girl had travelled so little in her short life -that the eight hours across country seemed to her no trifling matter. -She enjoyed it thoroughly; even the waitings at junctions and changing -of trains, at which many would have murmured, added to the pleasurable -excitement of the whole. There was something exhilarating in the mere -fact of passing through places whose names were unfamiliar to her. - -"What a pretty name!" she said to herself, at one station where some -minutes had to be spent for no apparent reason, as nobody got out or got -in, and neither express nor luggage train passing by solved the -enigma--"`Merle-in-the-Wold!' and what a pretty country it seems about -here! I don't remember noticing it on my way coming. I wonder how long -it will be before I pass by here again. They won't be so afraid about -me at home after this, when they see how well I have managed--catching -trains and everything quite rightly, and not losing my luggage, or -anything stupid like that--though, I suppose, I'd better not shout till -I'm out of the wood. I should feel rather small if my things don't turn -up at Marlby." - -But these misgivings did not trouble her long; she was absorbed by the -picturesque beauty of the country around, which was shown to its -greatest advantage by the lovely autumn weather. - -"There is really some advantage in living in an uninteresting part of -the world as we do," Philippa went on thinking; "it makes one doubly -enjoy scenery like this. I wonder I never heard of it before. I wonder -what those turrets can be over there among the trees; they must belong -to some beautiful old house. Dear me, what delightful lives some -fortunate people must have, though, I suppose, there are often -drawbacks--for instance, in Maida Lermont's case! I wouldn't change -with her for anything, except that she's so very, very good. It is so -nice to be strong, and able to enjoy any lucky chance which comes in -one's way, like this visit to Dorriford. I shall have to be content now -with quiet home life for a good while." - -But home, quiet and monotonous as it might be, was essentially home to -Philippa. Her spirits rose still higher as she knew herself to be -nearing it, and she had never looked brighter than when she sprang out -of the lumbering old fly which had brought her and her belongings from -Marlby station, and eagerly questioned the servant at the door as to -which members of the family were in. - -"Mamma is, you say, but not my father--and Mrs Headfort and the -children? Everybody is quite well, I suppose?" - -"All quite well, Miss Philippa," replied Dorcas, the elderly handmaid -who had once been Philippa's nurse. "Your mamma and Miss Evelyn--Mrs -Headfort, I should say--are in the drawing-room. I don't think they -expected you quite so soon. My master has gone to meet the young -gentlemen on their way back from school. I don't suppose they'll be in -for some time." - -"All the better," said Philippa, "so far as the boys are concerned, that -is to say. I do want to have a good talk with mamma and Evey first." - -"Yes, of course, Miss Philippa, you must have plenty to tell, and -something to hear too, maybe;" this rather mysteriously. - -"What can you mean?" said Philippa, stopping short on her way; but -Dorcas only shook her head and smiled. - -"Philippa already! How nice!" were the words that greeted her as she -opened the drawing-room door. "Darling, how well you're looking!"-- -and--"Evey, dear, ring for tea at once, the poor child must be -famishing," from her mother. - -Certainly there could be no two opinions as to the warmth of the young -girl's welcome home. - -"It is nice to be back again," said Philippa, throwing herself on to a -low chair beside her mother, "and with such lots to tell you. They have -all been so kind, and I have so enjoyed it; but, by-the-by, before I -begin, what does Dorcas mean by her mysterious hints about some news I -had to hear?" - -"Dorcas is an old goose," said Mrs Headfort, "and," [Page 21 missing] -tively. "And as if I didn't realise only too fully how terrible it is, -Duke writes pages and pages of warnings and instructions and directions, -and heaven knows what! down to the minutest detail. If he had known -more about the fashions, he would have told me exactly how my dresses -were to be made, and my hair done--" - -"He might have saved himself the trouble as to the last item," said -Philippa, consolingly. "You never have been and never will be able to -do your hair decently, Evelyn." - -Mrs Headfort's pretty face grew still more dejected in expression. - -"I really don't think you need be such a Job's comforter, Philippa," she -said, reproachfully, "just when mamma and I have been longing so for you -to come home. Duke _didn't_ write about my hair, so you needn't talk -about it. What he did write was bad enough, and the worst of all is--" - -"What?" said Philippa. - -CHAPTER TWO. - -"WHAT?" SAID PHILIPPA. - -"He says," replied Mrs Headfort, glancing round her--"dear me, where is -his letter? I would like to read it to you. I must have left it -up-stairs." - -"Never mind," said her sister, with a touch of impatience. Evelyn's -belongings were rather apt to be left up-stairs or down-stairs, or -anywhere, where their owner happened not to be at the moment. "Never -mind about it, you can read it to me afterwards; just tell me the gist -of it just now." - -"If you mean by that the most perplexing part of it, I was just going to -tell it you when you interrupted. Duke says I _must_ take a maid. He -says his cousins would never get over it--be too scandalised for words, -if I arrived without one. Such a state of things could never occur to -them, even though they knew how poor we are!" - -"Naturally enough," said Philippa, "even if Duke hadn't spoken of it, I -am sure we should have thought of it ourselves. And I don't see any -such tremendous difficulty about it." - -"I might have managed it in another way," said Mrs Headfort, "if they -had invited Bonny, for then I could have taken nurse, and--well, without -saying what wasn't true--let it be supposed that I didn't want to bring -two servants. And nurse would really have done all I need fairly well." - -"But they haven't asked Bonny? And I suppose you can't volunteer to -take him?" - -"Oh, dear, no," Evelyn replied, gazing vaguely around her again, as if -by some magic her husband's letter could have found its way down to the -table beside her. "That's just what Duke says. Bonny, you see, -Philippa, is the crux. Bonny must not be obtruded. Duke lays great -stress upon that, and, of course, my own sense would have told me so if -he hadn't. Oh, no, of course I can't take nurse and Bonny, even if you -and mamma could have accepted the responsibility of Vanda without -nurse." - -"Of course that would have been all right with Dorcas," said Mrs -Raynsworth. "I have suggested Evelyn's taking Dorcas, Philippa, but--" - -"It would _never_ do," said Evelyn, hastily. "I'm sure you'll say so, -too, Philippa. That's one reason I'm so glad you've come back. Do tell -mamma it would never do." - -"Honestly, I don't think it would," said Philippa. "To begin with, -one's never sure of her rheumatism not getting bad--and then, though -she's the dearest old thing in the world, the wildest flight of -imagination couldn't transform her into a maid." - -"I was sure you would say so," said Mrs Headfort. "You see, mamma -dear, everything is so different from all those years ago when she was -your maid." - -"Dorcas herself is different, certainly," Mrs Raynsworth agreed, "and -no wonder when you think of all she has done for us, and made herself -into for our sakes," and she sighed a little. "But otherwise, maids -when I was young, I assure you, had to be quite as competent as -nowadays." - -"Of course," said Philippa, detecting the tiniest touch of annoyance in -her mother's tone, "Evelyn didn't mean it quite that way. But still -Dorcas certainly wouldn't do. It would be very disagreeable for her at -her age to be thrown into a household of that kind, and perhaps made fun -of by smart servants." - -"And besides that," said Mrs Headfort, "I don't see how you could do -without her here; and she is so clever about the children, it is a -satisfaction to know you have her to consult if anything was wrong with -either of them while I'm away. I mean," she went on, with a -half-unconscious apology for her maternal egotism, "for your sake, too, -mamma, it lessens the responsibility." - -Mrs Raynsworth did not at once reply; she was thinking over things. - -"There is Fanny," she said; "she is a quick girl; she might be better -than no one." - -"I scarcely think so," said Philippa, "and she is inclined to be a -chatterbox. She would entertain the servants'-hall at Wyverston with -all the details of our life here, and, of course, it would be terribly -undignified to tell her to hold her tongue, as if we had anything to be -ashamed of. It would seem to her that we wanted her to be untruthful-- -oh, no, it would never do!" - -"There's nothing to do that I can see," said Evelyn, "except for me to -go alone. There is just a chance of Dorcas hearing of some one--a girl -in the village--who was coming home between two places, or something of -that kind. Failing that, I see nothing for it." - -"I think a perfect stranger would be worse than anything," said -Philippa, "she would be so utterly unused to your ways, and yet--I -thoroughly agree with what Duke says about it!" - -"Oh, dear," said Mrs Headfort, throwing herself back in her chair. -"What a bother it all is! I almost wish the Wyverston people had -continued to forget us. And yet I should be so proud and pleased if any -good came of it for Duke, as it were, you know, through me, I mean, if I -could make a good impression on them;" and her face flushed a little. - -"How could she fail to do so?" thought her younger sister to herself, -glancing at Evelyn with fond admiration. - -Mrs Headfort looked very pretty, the slight additional colour -brightening up her fair complexion advantageously. She _was_ very -pretty, and her beauty was of the kind that bears criticising--looking -into minutely--for her features were all delicate and regular, her -expression sweet though far from insipid, making a charming whole, -though, as a rule, perhaps somewhat wanting in colour. - -"Don't let us talk about this tiresome maid question any more just now," -the elder sister continued. "I've lots to tell you and ask you about my -clothes, Philippa. You must have seen all sorts of beautiful dresses at -Dorriford, though I'm afraid there's too little time for me to profit by -any hints. And, by-the-by, I've not let you tell anything about -Dorriford yet, rushing at you with my affairs." - -"It is so very interesting about your going to Wyverston," said -Philippa. "It has almost made me forget what I had to tell you. -Nothing really exciting, perhaps! But it was all so new to me, and they -were so kind. I did enjoy it thoroughly." - -Some details of her visit followed--about the people she had met, and -descriptions of the place itself--the latter made more distinct by -questions from her mother, who had stayed there once in her young days -long ago. - -"And they say--Mrs Lermont and Maida especially--that I must go back -there before long. And oh! mamma," she went on, "about the money! -Wasn't it kind of Mrs Lermont?" and she related what had passed between -herself and her hostess just before she left Dorriford. - -"It was very kind, very kind and thoughtful," said Mrs Raynsworth, -cordially. - -"I've got ever so much money over," Philippa continued. "The whole of -Mrs Lermont's present, of course, and some of what you gave me, mamma." - -"You may give me back the remains of mine," said her mother, "but you -must certainly keep what your cousin gave you for yourself, however you -do another time. You father must certainly pay it this once." - -As she said the words, the door opened and Mr Raynsworth came in. He -was tall and thin, fair like his elder daughter, and with the slight -bend in his shoulders inevitable in one of his scholarly habits. He -smiled brightly as he caught sight of Philippa, who started up to meet -him. - -"Well, my dear little secretary," he said, affectionately. "Safe back -again. You're not sorry to be home, I hope." - -"No, indeed," said the girl, "though I've been very happy. It was quite -time for me to come home, as Evelyn is going to start off so soon. You -would have been left with nobody at all!" - -"I haven't been much good to him," said Mrs Headfort, deprecatingly. - -"Oh, yes, my dear," said her father, with amiable condescension, "you've -been very good, very good indeed. You did your best, and who can do -more?" - -Mrs Headfort smiled. She knew she was much less clever than her -sister, but the knowledge never roused in her the faintest sensation of -jealousy. - -"And _a propos_ of my secretaries," continued Mr Raynsworth, "it's -going to be an _embarras de richesses_. There's a letter from Charlie -by the second post"--he held out an envelope as he spoke--"to say that -he may be coming next week instead of a fortnight later." Philippa's -face fell a little. Fond as she was of her elder brother, it went -somewhat against the grain with her to think of so soon giving up the -post of amanuensis to her father, which she had filled for the last two -years. - -"So," Mr Raynsworth went on, "so far as _I_ was concerned, my dear, you -might have paid a longer visit at Dorriford." - -"Or you might come with me to Wyverston! How I wish you were coming!" -said Mrs Headfort, quick to perceive the slight disappointment in her -sister's face called forth by her father's speech, though it had been -made in all innocence. - -"I wish I could go with you," said Philippa. "I shall have nothing to -do when you're away." - -"Oh, yes, dear, you will," said her mother; "Charlie will be wanting you -all day long, to begin with." - -"And I want you dreadfully _now_," said Evelyn. "I am longing to show -you my clothes and what I'm arranging about them--several things I -couldn't fix about till you came back." - -"I'm quite ready," said Philippa. "I'm not the least tired," and she -rose to accompany her sister up-stairs, but again the door opened, and -this time two pairs of arms were thrown round her with exclamations of -delight. - -"Oh, Hugh--Leonard! one at a time, please," she exclaimed, laughingly. - -"We're so glad you're back," said the boys together, "and we've such -heaps of things to tell you--and to show you," added Leonard. "Are you -too tired to come out to-night? I've got the other guinea-pig I was -hoping for--one of the feathery kind, you know; he is such a beauty. Do -come--" - -He got hold of his sister's sleeve and began tugging at her, while Hugh -on her other side was evidently bursting with some equally important -communication he was longing to make to her. - -Evelyn interposed, partly through selfish motives, partly, it is to be -hoped, through pity for her sister. - -"You mustn't drag Philippa out to-night, boys," she said. "It would be -inhuman! Don't you see she has had her hat on all day; you forget she's -been travelling since the morning. I've been selfish enough myself in -keeping you here all this time talking--come up-stairs with me, -Philippa," and she passed her hand through her sister's arm. - -"I am really not tired," said Philippa. "Perhaps I can come out later -to see the guinea-pig, Leonard;" but she did not resist Mrs Headfort's -persuasive touch. The latter glanced at her once or twice as they -slowly made their way up-stairs. Philippa's face had an absent, grave -expression, which made her sister feel somewhat self-reproachful. - -"You _are_ tired, Philippa, whatever you say, and it is greatly my -fault. It is horrid to be rushed at the moment one arrives, with a lot -of home worries." - -"They are not worries in the first place," said Philippa, rousing -herself; "I am feeling nothing but the greatest interest in your plans. -I am only thinking it all over." - -"I hope you include my clothes in the `it,' then! There are some -patterns I must decide about before the post goes out. Will you come to -my room as soon as you've taken off your things?" - -"I must just peep in at the children for a moment," said Philippa, "but -I'll come down again directly." - -The nursery was next door to her own room, a floor higher. For on Mrs -Headfort's return from India with her two babies more than a year ago, -Philippa had given up to her sister the room which had been her own -since Evelyn's marriage. - -Joyful sounds from above reached Mrs Headfort's ears as she turned in -to her own quarters--"Auntie Phil!"--"Aty, turn back!" - -"How those children do adore her!" thought their mother. "I'm afraid -they won't let her go, and I really must settle about these tiresome -clothes!" - -But barely five minutes had passed before Philippa appeared again, -divested of her travelling things, bright and interested. - -"How did you manage to escape from the nursery?" said Mrs Headfort, -admiringly. - -Philippa laughed. - -"I told them I _must_ come down to you; children have a great respect -for `must' Oh, how pretty!" she went on, as she caught sight of an -evening-dress lying on the bed; "you don't mean to say that's your old -heliotrope! How capitally you've managed it!" - -"I am so glad you like it," said Evelyn, in a tone of great -gratification. "I took it to Warder's as soon as I heard about this -terrible visit. It is really the only thing that's quite ready. I must -get one completely new evening-dress. Mamma and I thought white or -cream would be best." - -"Yes," Philippa agreed, "anything in colour gets so quickly, known, and -white always suits you." - -"And, of course," said Mrs Headfort, "I want something I can wear for a -long time, and one can always alter a white dress. There are so many -things to consider, you see, Philippa. Duke wouldn't want them to think -me extravagant, and yet, on the other side, I must on no account be -dowdy." She gave a deep sigh. "Men have no idea how difficult things -are for women!" - -"It is difficult," Philippa agreed, "but your having no maid still seems -to me the worst of it. Its hateful to depend on a housemaid's good -offices, and even morning-dresses are so difficult to manage by one's -self nowadays." - -"Yes indeed," said Evelyn; "I shall never know if I look nice or not; it -isn't as if they were people I knew well--or knew at all. Oh, dear me, -how I wish they had waited to ask me till Duke came home! But now you -must help me to decide on one of these patterns, or I shall miss the -post." - -The next half-hour passed quickly in discussions of the details of her -sister's trousseau, as Philippa laughingly called it; and if the younger -girl in her secret heart found the minutiae rather wearisome, she kept -her feelings to herself, and was more than rewarded by Evelyn's -increased good spirits and cheerfulness. - -"You don't know what a comfort it is to have Philippa back again," she -said to her mother that evening at dinner; "I am beginning to feel ever -so much happier about Wyverston. I shall be able to write quite -comfortably to poor old Duke by next mail." - -Mrs Raynsworth glanced affectionately at her younger daughter. -Personally these two resembled each other very closely, nor did the -resemblance stop with their outward appearance. There was decision and -firmness in both faces, both even more strongly marked in Philippa's -case than in her mother's, for young as the girl still was, she gave one -an impression of extreme reliability, and of late years somewhat failing -health and the mellowing influence of time had softened the character of -Mrs Raynsworth's whole personality. Her married life, though far from -an unhappy one, had been by no means free from the undue share of -practical cares which almost inevitably falls to the wife of a scholar. -And that Mr Raynsworth was a scholar, in the fullest sense of the word, -there could be no two opinions. It was from him Philippa inherited the -intellectual side of her character, balanced by her mother's practical -good sense, and other more ordinary though not the less desirable -feminine qualities. - -In his secret heart there were times when Mr Raynsworth sighed over the -girl's eager interest in social amusements and the daily life of those -about her. - -"She almost has it in her to be a really learned woman," he would say to -himself, and in other surroundings it is possible that his ideal for her -might have been realised. But as things were, Philippa would have -choked in a study had the bulk of her time been spent poring over books. -Her lessons with her father over, or, in later years, the work she did -for him, and that with real appreciation, completed for the time being, -she would fly off to arrange flowers in the drawing-room, or even to -discuss the fashion of a new dress, with as keen enjoyment as if she had -never touched a Greek or Latin book in her life. - -Personally she was like her mother. Dark-haired, brown-eyed, and of a -make and bearing suggestive of unusual vigour; while by one of those -curious inconsistencies which abound in family likenesses, Evelyn -Headfort resembled her father in appearance and temperament, and though -by careful education her brain-powers had been made the most of, they -were not above the average. - -One gift she possessed--the source of infinite pleasure to those about -her--that of a very beautiful voice, and if Philippa's generous nature -had been capable of even a passing touch of jealousy of her sister, it -would have shown in this direction. - -"It is strange," she would say, sometimes, "that one can adore music as -I feel I do, and yet have no power of expressing it one's self." - -And even as a little child her sweetest dreams and fancies were shaped -and coloured by the longing to find herself in possession of the -marvellous gift of music, a gift which she sometimes felt inclined to -reproach her sister for not sufficiently prizing. For musical as she -undoubtedly was, Evelyn was neither poetical nor imaginative, however -difficult it might be to credit this when one gazed at her delicate, -almost ethereal features and lovely, dreamy blue eyes. - -"One can't have everything," she would reply, prosaically enough, to her -sister. "You're a hundred, thousand times cleverer than I, and quite as -capable or more so, and, to _my_ mind, quite as nice-looking. You -really needn't grudge me my voice. I only care about it because all of -you do." - -But for the dissimilarity between them--possibly, indeed, to some extent -in consequence of it--never were two sisters more heartily attached to -each other. Never was a home less disturbed by the friction of opposing -tastes or unrestrained moods than theirs. There was, no doubt, dormant -intensity of feeling, depths of devotion and capacity for suffering in -the younger girl's nature not yet gauged--potentialities which, it is to -be questioned, if any of those about her could have understood even had -she been sufficiently conscious of them herself to attempt to express -them, or egotistical enough to wish to do so. But though possibly there -was less power of sympathy with her deepest self than she had any idea -of, there had been nothing in her life or surroundings to stunt or -thwart her individuality. Nay, rather very much the reverse--calm and -stillness are excellent guardians of character in certain stages of its -development. - -CHAPTER THREE. - -"SO UNLIKE HER." - -The next few days were fully occupied with Evelyn's preparations for her -visit. And here, perhaps, it may be well to explain why so apparently -unimportant a matter as young Mrs Headfort's spending a few days with -her husband's relations should have been looked upon by herself and her -own family as an event of such moment. - -It was now nearly four years since Evelyn Raynsworth's marriage to -Captain Headfort, and during that time two deaths had taken place in the -immediate family of his cousin--the head of the house and master of -Wyverston--which had greatly altered the young man's position as a -Headfort, with regard to the future. For the deaths had been those of -Mr Headfort's two sons, and though the large estates were not entailed, -the family feeling of respect for the male line was proverbially strong. -Marmaduke was an only son, and had been early left an orphan; the care -of him in childhood and youth devolving upon relatives on his mother's -side, elderly people now dead. They had done their duty by the boy in a -conscientious, unemotional fashion, and had left him a small addition to -his own little patrimony: all, indeed, that they had it in their power -to dispose of. So, though Captain Headfort's childhood had been a -somewhat loveless one, he remembered his uncle and aunt with gratitude-- -never so warm, perhaps, as when, at eight-and-twenty, he fell in love -with Mr Raynsworth's charming daughter--as but for this opportune -legacy he would scarcely have thought it possible to marry. It had -never occurred to him in his wildest dreams, that a day might come when -he should be looked upon as the probable heir to the large estates -belonging to the head of his family, of which he considered himself a -very unimportant member; he was not even disappointed or hurt when no -special notice was taken of his marriage, beyond a somewhat formal -letter of good wishes and a wedding present of the orthodox type. There -had scarcely, indeed, been time for an invitation to visit Wyverston, as -the marriage took place immediately before he and his bride left for -India; but the news of the death of his two cousins, little more than a -year after his own marriage, and the birth of his own son had inevitably -altered the aspect of things, even to a man uncalculating and -single-minded as was Evelyn's husband. - -"There is actually no one of the name to succeed except myself and -Bonny," he said to his wife, when the first shock of natural concern for -his cousins' untimely fate had somewhat subsided, "for though Louis was -married, he had only two daughters, and poor cousin Marmaduke is now -quite an old man." - -"It is very sad," said Evelyn, "very sad, indeed. Shall you write to -them, Duke?" - -He hesitated. - -"I really can't say," he replied; "I know them so little. And, under -these circumstances, don't you see, I rather shrink from reminding them -of my existence just now." - -"I don't see that you can help writing," said Evelyn. "The _not_ doing -so would be only too marked. And it isn't as if the property were -entailed; it is all _actually_ nothing more to you than to any one -else." - -So Captain Headfort wrote--a short, manly letter of honest sympathy--a -letter which, however, in the months that followed, he often more than -half regretted, though he was too generous to say so to Evelyn. For it -brought forth no response, not even a formal acknowledgment. - -"No doubt," he thought to himself, "they looked upon it as a piece of -officiousness. However, it was done for the best, and I'll think no -more about it." - -Two years later saw Evelyn obliged to return to England with her -children, for her health had suffered to some extent from the climate, -and little Marmaduke--Bonny, as he was called--was growing thin and -pale. She had been with her own people for several months, when at last -the coming of the little-looked-for invitation to visit Wyverston was -announced to her by her husband, as has been related. Nothing could -have been more unexpected, Captain Headfort having had no communication -till now with his cousins. He was even at a loss to explain their -knowing of his wife's return home. And naturally he was anxious to -respond cordially to this friendly overture; anxious, perhaps, above -all, that no considerations of misplaced economy should prevent Evelyn's -making her debut among his relatives with befitting dignity. - -Hence the sensation in the Raynsworths' family circle concerning an -event, on the surface, so simple and commonplace. And no one, perhaps, -of all the family party had taken the matter so deeply to heart as -Philippa. It was never out of her head during the few days which -succeeded her return home, and by night her dreams were haunted by -absurd complications and variations of the theme. - -As to Duke's wife herself, the younger sister had no misgivings -whatever. - -"Evelyn may be shy," she thought, "but she is never awkward. She can -always be stately if occasion calls for it. And her clothes will be all -right; indeed, she looks nice in anything, though I do wish she had some -one to help her to put them on. Yes, it is the going without a maid -that spoils it all. I don't know _what_ can be done!" - -For the previous day had destroyed the last hope of a temporary maid -being procurable, and Evelyn, with the touch of _laisser-aller_ inherent -in her, and which her life in India had not tended to decrease, had made -up her mind to face Wyverston unattended. - -"If only you keep quite well, it won't matter so much," said Mrs -Raynsworth. - -"I shall take care not to let the Headforts know, if I don't," said -Evelyn. "I should hate them to think that Duke had married a limp, -delicate sort of a girl, and, unluckily, I always look much more so than -I am." - -"But you are not really strong yet," said her mother. "And if you do -anything foolish out of a kind of bravado, you may really lay yourself -up, and think how disagreeable that would be!" - -Philippa, who was present, glanced at her sister. She was certainly -looking more fragile than usual. The excitement, and, to a certain -extent, fatigue of the last few days were telling upon her, and a -feeling of additional anxiety came upon the younger girl. - -"I shall really not be a bit surprised at anything that happens," she -said, in a tone of annoyance. "You are quite right, mamma, and I wish -you would frighten Evelyn well. She is sometimes as silly about herself -as if she were no older than Vanda," and the laugh with which Mrs -Headfort treated this remonstrance was by no means reassuring. - -This conversation took place on Tuesday--Friday was the day fixed for -Evelyn's journey. Late on Thursday evening Mrs Raynsworth and her -eldest daughter were sitting alone in the drawing-room, or, to be more -exact, Evelyn was lying on a couch while her mother sat beside her. - -"Don't look so worried, mamma dear," said the younger woman. "I really -am better; I don't think there is actually much the matter with me; I -have just overtired myself a little. I shall be all right once I start -to-morrow." - -"It is your going alone," said Mrs Raynsworth, despondently. - -Evelyn stroked her mother's hand. - -"How funny you are!" she said; "you didn't mind it half so much at first -as Philippa did, and now she says nothing more about it, and you have -begun to worry yourself. But as for Philippa, where can she be? I've -scarcely seen her to-day." - -"She was out for some time this afternoon," said Mrs Raynsworth. "I -was rather surprised at it, for she knows I am uneasy about you." - -As she spoke, the door opened and her younger daughter entered. - -"Where have you been?" said Mrs Headfort; "with papa?" - -"No," Philippa replied, "I've been up in my own room." - -"You might have stayed with me the last evening," her sister continued, -with a touch of reproach. "And I must go to bed immediately--poor -mamma's unhappy about my looking so ill." - -Philippa glanced at her critically. - -"I don't wonder," she said; "you certainly are not looking well. Yes, I -think the best thing you can do is to go to bed. Let me see, what time -do you leave to-morrow?" - -"Not till eleven--that's to say, eleven from this house. The train goes -at twelve." - -Philippa's face grew grave. - -"Don't think it horrid of me," she began, "but I can't possibly be here -to say good-bye to you at eleven, or to go to the station with you. I -_must_ be at Marlby before then, to-morrow morning." - -"Well, if you're to be there, why not come to the station to see me -off?" said Evelyn. "I shall think it rather horrid of you if you -don't!" - -"I am very sorry," Philippa replied, "very sorry to seem horrid, but I -can't even see you off." - -"How strange you are, Philippa!" exclaimed Mrs Raynsworth. "You -shouldn't have made any pressing engagement for to-morrow morning. You -seemed so anxious about Evelyn!" - -"So I am, mamma," Philippa replied, "but the mere fact of my seeing her -off wouldn't do her much good." - -But Mrs Raynsworth still looked annoyed. She was feeling really -anxious and concerned about her elder daughter, and was in consequence -less calm than usual. - -"Evelyn," said Philippa, "do come up to bed. I'll stay with you while -you undress." - -Mrs Headfort got up slowly. - -"Philippa is queer this evening," she thought to herself. "She's not -very nice to mamma." - -"I will come down again in a few minutes," said Philippa, as they left -the room. "I only want to make sure of Evelyn taking her medicine, and -to prevent her going into the nursery again to-night.--What will you do -without me to look after you," she added, turning to her sister. - -"There will be no nursery for me to wander into," said Evelyn, with a -sigh, "when I feel dull or lonely, as there is here." - -Philippa turned quickly. - -"But you never do feel dull or lonely--at least not _lonely_, here with -mamma and me, surely?" she said, with a touch of reproach. - -"Oh, well, no, not in the same way, of course. But there must be times -when I feel lonely without Duke, even though I love so being at home -with all of you. It wouldn't be natural if I didn't miss him." - -"No, I suppose not," said Philippa, half absently, for in her own mind -she was thinking, "How strange it must be to care for anybody _more_ -than for one's own people! I cannot picture it to myself at all." - -The few minutes she had spoken of to her mother turned out thirty at -least, for more than half an hour had passed before her younger daughter -rejoined Mrs Raynsworth in the drawing-room. And even then Philippa -seemed so carried away and preoccupied that her mother felt again -slightly irritated by her manner. - -"Are you very tired this evening, Philippa?" she said at last; "or is -there anything the matter? You don't seem like yourself." - -Philippa gave a little start. - -"I'm quite well--not the least tired, I mean," she said, quickly. "I am -thinking about Evelyn; there is nothing else the matter." - -"You mean about her going to-morrow alone?" said Mrs Raynsworth; "I am -not at all happy about it myself. She looks so fragile, poor little -thing. She is not nearly as strong as you, Philippa, in any way. But -it is always a satisfaction to me to see how fond you are of each other; -she clings to you so. And to tell you the truth, before she and the -children came to us, I had some misgiving as to how it would be, for you -were practically a child when she married, and those two or three years -made all the difference. You had come to be so thoroughly the daughter -at home--helping your father and me. I have perhaps never said to you -before in so many words that I have been very pleased, very gratified by -your whole tone towards and about Evey. You have been unselfish and -self-forgetting all through." - -The young girl's eyes glistened with pleasure. It was not often that -Mrs Raynsworth--as a rule a somewhat silent and undemonstrative woman-- -expressed herself so unreservedly. - -"Dear mamma," said Philippa, "there isn't _anything_ I wouldn't do for -Evelyn. And I am so glad, so particularly glad, that you understand it. -Thank you so much for what you've said. Now, I think I will go to bed -if you don't mind," and she kissed her mother warmly. - -"She must be tired, though she won't own to it," thought Mrs Raynsworth -as Philippa left the room. "It is generally so difficult to get her to -go to bed early," and again the feeling came over her of there being -something slightly unusual about her younger daughter that evening. - -She would have been still more perplexed and surprised could she have -seen Philippa an hour or two later in her own room. For long after the -whole household was asleep, the girl was busily sewing at various -articles of her attire, altering them and modifying them with the help -of some small purchases she had made that afternoon. And when at last -all was completed to her satisfaction, she drew out a small light trunk, -already partially packed, which she proceeded to fill. - -"I think that will do," she said to herself, as she stood up and -surveyed it with satisfaction. "With this and a hand-bag, and the -things I'll manage to get into Evelyn's roll of rugs, I am sure I shall -have all I need. Now I've only to write my letter of explanation to -mamma. Dorcas must give it to her when it is quite certainly too late -to overtake me." - -And half an hour later she was in bed and fast asleep, her mother's -words having removed any misgivings she had felt as to what she was -about to do. - -Mrs Headfort looked a little better the next morning, thanks to a good -night's rest; thanks also, perhaps, to the not unnatural excitement she -was feeling about her journey and its results. Between her -anticipations and her regret at leaving her children, she was -sufficiently distracted not to notice that Philippa had slipped away in -some mysterious fashion quite an hour before the time fixed for her own -departure. It was actually not till she was standing at the hall door, -waiting till the luggage should be safely established on the top of the -fly before getting in herself, that she suddenly exclaimed: - -"Where can Philippa be, mamma? I haven't seen her since breakfast." - -Mrs Raynsworth glanced round with an air of annoyance. - -"I have no idea," she said. "She is certainly not with your father. -What was it she was saying last night about not going to the station -with you?" - -"Oh, just that she couldn't go; she has some mysterious engagement. But -she might at least have said good-bye first." - -"It is so unlike her," replied the mother. "And somehow I didn't take -it in, otherwise I would have got ready to see you off myself." - -"Oh, I don't mind that part of it in the least," said Evelyn. "It's not -as if it were a big crowded station. But tell Philippa, all the same, -that I don't understand her going off like that. Now, good-bye, dear -mamma, and don't worry about me. I shall be all right if I get good -news of the children, and you or Phil will write every day, I'm sure--a -mere word would be enough." - -"Yes, dear, of course we shall," replied Mrs Raynsworth, reassuringly, -though her face had a more anxious expression than usual. "I won't ask -_you_ to write every day," she went on, "for I know how tiresome it is -to feel bound to do so when one is staying with people. Only let us -know of your arrival as soon as you can, and say how you are." - -She stood watching the fly as it made its way down the short drive, -waving her hand in response to Evelyn's last smile and nod. Then she -went slowly back into the house. - -"I couldn't have said anything to disturb Evelyn just as she was -starting," she thought to herself, "but I really do think Philippa is -behaving most extraordinarily. I hope these very independent ways of -hers are not the result of her visit to Dorriford. I wonder, by-the-by, -if Dorcas knows where she is gone." - -But, strange to say, Dorcas was not to be found in any of her usual -haunts, though one of the under-servants said she had seen her not five -minutes before, up-stairs in Miss Philippa's room. Tired and somewhat -depressed, though she scarcely knew why, Mrs Raynsworth sat down in the -drawing-room with a vague intention of writing a letter or otherwise -employing herself usefully, but contrary to her usual habits, more than -an hour passed before she exerted herself to do anything but gaze -dreamily out of the window, where the now fast-falling leaves were -whirling about fantastically in the breeze. - -"I feel as if I were waiting for something, though for what I don't -know," she thought, and it was with a start of surprise that the clock, -striking one, caught her ear. "Dear me, how idle I have been--one -o'clock! Evelyn must be well on her way by this. I wonder when -Philippa intends to come in?" - -Just then the door opened and Dorcas appeared. She carried a salver in -her hand, and on it lay a letter. - -"If you please, ma'am," the old servant began, "Miss Philippa wished me -to give you this at one o'clock, but not before. I don't know what it's -about, I don't, indeed," she added, anxiously, "but I do hope there's -nothing wrong." - -Her words were well intended, but they only served to sharpen the -uneasiness which Mrs Raynsworth was already feeling. Her face grew -pale, and her heart beat painfully fast as she took hold of the -envelope. - -"A letter, and from Philippa!" she exclaimed; "what can it mean? No, -don't go away, Dorcas," though the old servant had shown no sign of -doing so. "If--if there is anything wrong,"--though what could have -been wrong she would have been at a loss to say--"I must keep calm. -Don't go till I see what it is." And with trembling fingers she opened -the letter. - -For Philippa _had_ been preoccupied and unlike herself the night before, -and even this very morning, there was no denying. - -CHAPTER FOUR. - -FELLOW-TRAVELLERS. - -In the meantime all had progressed smoothly with Mrs Headfort. - -The train was already in the station when she and her boxes found -themselves on the platform, for Marlby was a terminus in its small way. -It lay about an hour off the main line, and as express trains do not -_always_ wait the arrival of small local ones, departures from Marlby -for the junction were characterised by most praiseworthy punctuality, -any wafting that might occur being pretty sure to take place at Wrexhill -junction itself. - -But to-day the express proved worthy of its name, barely five minutes -having been passed at the big station before Evelyn found herself -re-established in her favourite corner of a first-class compartment, -otherwise empty, of the train. - -"Now I shall feel settled," she said to herself, with satisfaction, "no -more changes till I get almost to my journey's end. I do hope nobody -will get in. I wish I could go to sleep and then I should feel fresh on -arriving, and I never like to shut my eyes with strangers in the -carriage--for one thing, one looks so silly; I've often laughed at other -people. I wish the train would start--oh, dear,"--as at that moment the -door opened to admit a new-comer--"what a bother!" and as she made this -mental ejaculation the train began to move. - -"How rash of her!" thought Mrs Headfort, glancing at the intruder, -whose back for the moment was turned towards her. - -She was a tall, slender woman, neatly but simply dressed in black, young -too, as far as Mrs Headfort's present chances of observation could -decide. "She looks like a maid--she must have got in first-class by -mistake sorely," but at this point in her reflections the black-robed -figure turned, calmly seating herself opposite Evelyn, and lifting the -thick veil she wore, disclosed to the gazer's astonished eyes the face -of her sister Philippa! - -Mrs Headfort grew pale--more than pale indeed, perfectly white--and -uttered a faint scream. For the moment, in the confusion of ideas -always engendered by the utterly unexpected, she really felt as if she -had seen a ghost. It was impossible for her at once to grasp the fact -that before her was indeed her sister, a flesh-and-blood Philippa. She -could scarcely have been more amazed had the figure in front of her -proceeded to dissolve into thin air and disappear! And the effect on -the girl herself of her sister's agitation was for an instant -paralysing. Any enjoyment she had anticipated in this _coup d'etat_, -any thought of "fun" completely faded. She felt so terrified and -startled at the effect upon Evelyn of what she had imagined would cause -at the most but a start of surprise, and probably some vehement -remonstrance, that she was utterly unable to speak. Only, when at -length--or what seemed at length, for in reality not twenty seconds had -passed since the new-comer had revealed herself--Evelyn's pale lips -murmured with a gasp, "Philippa!" did her own power of utterance return -to her. - -"Evey, Evey," she exclaimed, "don't look like that I never thought you -would be so frightened. I--I thought that on the whole you'd be -pleased." - -The distress in Philippa's face touched her sister. She tried to smile, -and the effort brought some colour back again to her pale face. - -"It was silly of me," she said at last, "but I don't understand! Did -you mean to come with me to Wrexhill? Oh, no, I forgot, we have passed -it; we shall not stop again till Crowminster, ever so far away. -Philippa, what are you thinking of?" and again her face grew very -troubled. - -"Of course I know we don't stop for ever so long," said Philippa, trying -to speak easily. "I looked it all out in the railway guide; that was -why I wouldn't let you know I was in the train till after we had passed -the junction. It's too late to send me back now, Evey; the trains don't -match in the least I should have hours to wait at Crowminster, and again -at the junction. I shouldn't get home till who knows when, and what is -still more to the purpose," she added, but in a lower voice, "I wouldn't -go back if you told me to--nothing in the world would make me go back." - -The sense of her last words did not reach her sister's brain. She sat -staring at Philippa with more and more widely opening eyes. - -"Why are you dressed like that?" she exclaimed, gradually taking in the -fact of her sister's unusual get-up. "Is it some trick you are playing, -Philippa--some silly, practical joke? I _cannot_ understand you, just -now, especially, when I wanted to be calm and as easy-minded as possible -for this visit!" - -The reproach in her tone roused Philippa's indignation. - -"Trick--practical joke!" she repeated. "How can you say such a thing? -What do you take me for?" and her voice faltered. "You are very stupid, -Evelyn," she went on, more lightly. "You surely must understand what I -mean to do. I am no longer Philippa Raynsworth, I am Mrs Headfort's -maid--a very good, trustworthy girl, though rather young and not very -experienced. So I hope, ma'am, I have made things clear." - -Evelyn gasped. - -"Phil!" was all she could find breath to say for a moment. "Yes, -indeed," she went on, "I have been fearfully dense and stupid. I might -have suspected something from your manner the last day or two, and when -you so suddenly gave in about my going alone. But, oh, Phil, you are -perfectly mad; such a thing cannot possibly be allowed. Just think if -it were found out! What _would_ Duke say?" - -"Duke shall never hear of it!" Philippa replied, composedly. "It is my -secret, Evelyn; I throw myself upon your honour never to tell -_anybody_--do you hear--anybody without my leave. You must _promise_." - -"But papa and mamma?" said Evelyn, bewilderedly. "Papa and mamma," -repeated Philippa again, forgetting good manners in her excitement. -"_They_ know, of course. I mean,"--catching the increasing amazement on -her sister's face--"I mean they will know by this time. I left a letter -for Dorcas to give mamma as soon as it was quite too late to stop me. -In her heart I do believe mamma will be thankful to know I am with you, -to take care of you, my poor little sweet, with your troubled white -face. Oh, darling, do cheer up and see the bright side of it. _Its -going to be_--nothing would make me give it up--do understand that, and -let yourself be comfortable. Think how beautifully I can do your hair, -and dress you, and everything, and what nice talks we can have when you -are tired and come up to your room for a little rest. I can be ever so -much more use to you even for talking and consulting, than if I were -going with you as your sister. And think, if you feel ill or very -depressed, how glad you will be to know I am at hand. And how glad -mamma will be--why, I can write to her every day and keep her mind at -rest." - -Evelyn's face relaxed a little. - -"But, Phil," she began, and by the tone of her voice, in spite of the -remonstrating, "but," Philippa knew the battle was won, "but, Phil, the -life for you--among the _servants_--you, my sister! Oh, no, it--" - -"It will be such a chance for studying one part of the other side of -things as falls to very few," she interrupted. "Just what I shall -enjoy. Why, if ever I come to write stories, as papa says I may do some -day, think how valuable it will be to me to have actually made one at -the `second table' myself. It will be something like a -night-in-a-casual-ward experience." - -Evelyn shuddered. - -"Don't say such things, Philippa, it makes it worse and worse. At least -the servants will be _clean_." - -"It is to be hoped so," said her sister, coolly. - -"But the men-servants," continued Mrs Headfort; "fancy you sitting down -between the butler and the valet! Oh, Philippa, when papa hears of it I -believe he will come off by the first train to fetch you himself." - -"He will do nothing of the kind," returned Philippa. "He will shrug his -shoulders and say it will be a good lesson for me, and in his heart he -will enjoy the humour of it. You can certainly trust me to keep all the -butlers and valets in the world in their place, even though I'm only a -lady's-maid," and she drew up her head proudly. "But seriously, Evey," -she went on, "I'm sure there will be nothing of the kind required at -Wyverston; you may be pretty certain the servants will be a most -decorous, old-fashioned set. I shall not be expected to do more than -`speak when I'm spoken to' and `mend _your_ clothes' if you tear them." - -Philippa knew what she was about. She went on talking in the same -strain till she succeeded in making Evelyn smile and even laugh, taking -care to treat the whole affair as irrevocable--a _fait accompli_-- -knowing Mrs Headfort's mind to be so constituted that taking her -acceptance for granted was in nine cases out of ten to insure it. - -An hour and more passed, Evelyn's intended opposition to the -extraordinary drama arranged by Philippa, growing, half unconsciously to -herself, feebler and fainter. She was feeling very tired, too, as the -result of the agitation she had gone through, and in such conditions it -came naturally to her to cling with childlike appeal to those around -her. And Philippa's stronger personality made her a very rock of -support to poor Evey. - -Suddenly a thought struck her. - -"Phil," she said, "how is it you are travelling in here? Did you take a -first-class ticket?" - -Miss Raynsworth shook her head. - -"Oh, no," she replied; "I am going to get out at Crowminster. There is -a second-class compartment next door. I don't suppose there will be any -difficulty about my having come this bit of the way with you, but if -there should be, I can pay the difference. It is much better for me not -to stay with you: we shall get into our role more quickly if we start at -once. I will look in at every station to see if you want anything. We -must be getting near Crowminster now." - -Evelyn did not speak for a moment or two. - -"There is just one little thing to be settled," Philippa went on, with a -touch of hesitation. "What will you call me, Evey?" - -Evey glanced at her. - -"Oh, Phil," she exclaimed, "it is altogether impossible. I shall never -be able to keep it up." - -"Nonsense," said her sister, with a touch of asperity. "_You_ will have -no keeping up, as you call it, to do, and as for my part of it, you can -safely leave that to me." - -"I shall never be able to call you anything but Phil," said Mrs -Headfort, plaintively. - -"I've thought of that," replied the young girl. "We had better choose a -name which would not clash--I mean, so that if you _did_ call me `Phil' -by mistake, people would either not notice it or think you had -interrupted yourself. What do you say to `Phillis'? It would do very -well, I think?" - -"I daresay it would," said Mrs Headfort, with a curious kind of -resignation in her voice. - -"Of course it is a _perfect_ name for a maid," said Philippa, "if people -didn't always use surnames. But you can truthfully say, if any one -remarks upon it, that you've known me all my life, though I've only -lately entered your service." - -"I cannot go into any explanations of the kind, whatever people say, I -warn you, Philippa. I haven't the nerve for it. Even if my _words_ -were true, I should feel as if I were telling stories." - -"Oh, well, say nothing, then," her sister replied, tranquilly. "On the -whole it will be as well, or perhaps better. But now, Evey, we are -getting near Crowminster, and I must go back to my own carriage. -There's only just one thing more I want to prepare you for.--Shut your -eyes for a minute." - -Evey meekly obeyed; she was past the stage of any attempt at restiveness -by this time. - -"Now," said Philippa, and Evelyn, looking up, gave a slight exclamation. - -"Who would have thought it would change you so? Where in the world did -you get them?" - -The "it" and the "them" referred to a pair of bluish-tinted spectacles -which Philippa had composedly donned. - -"Aren't they splendid?" she said. "Don't you remember them? They're a -pair mamma had that summer ages ago, when she went to Switzerland with -papa, to shade her eyes from the glare. Of course they're only plain -glass, and very dark blue ones wouldn't have done; they look so like a -disguise. At least, in all the sensational stories, they are always -used for that. And real spectacles would have dazed me, for my sight's -as keen as--" - -"A hawk's!" said Mrs Headfort, with a spark of reviving vivacity. -"But, oh, Phil, the train is slackening. I wish you could have stayed -with me." - -"It is much better not," said Philippa, philosophically. "Very much -better not. We should have gone on talking and forgetting the new state -of things. My being in another compartment is the first act in the -play--it will help us to realise it. And now, ma'am," she continued, -rising as she spoke, for by this time the train had stopped, "I had -better leave you. I will come to see if you desire me for anything at -the next station we stop at." - -Without the undue effort or constraint, which would have accompanied any -complete change of tone for a prolonged period, she had managed slightly -to modify her usual inflection of voice and manner of speaking. It was -slower and more monotonous than its wont, with a slight suggestion of -choosing her words, as might be done by an intelligent girl of a lower -class with enough education to make her aspire to perfect correctness. - -"All right, Phillis," Mrs Headfort replied, with a somewhat pitiful and -not very successful attempt at following her sister's lead. "No," she -continued, with a sudden change of tone, "don't speak to me. I can't -stand it! I will do my best to brace myself up to it, but it won't be -easy. Perhaps it _is_ better for you to leave me alone." - -Philippa did not reply, except by a smile and a nod, feeling, to tell -the truth, far less easy-minded than she looked. She was becoming -conscious that till now she had not sufficiently taken into account -Evelyn's peculiar unfitness for acting a part of any kind; all she had -directed her attention to having been the mere obtaining of her sister's -consent to her scheme. - -"Yet, after all," she thought to herself, as she stepped into the -second-class compartment next door, "after all, all she will have to do -will be very easy; there will be no acting involved. We shall hardly -ever be seen together, and if her manner is constrained and peculiar, it -will only be thought to be her way with servants. It isn't as if we -were going among people who had ever seen her before." - -With these reflections she did her best to quell her misgivings, and -feeling that it would be better not to let her mind dwell too long on -her own concerns, she looked about her for a little diversion. - -There were two or three other occupants of the compartment, and her -glance fell almost immediately on one of them who at once riveted her -attention. This was a long-nosed, melancholy-eyed dachshund, whom -Philippa's judgment, experienced in matters pertaining to his family, -straightway mentally labelled as a "perfect beauty." In other words, as -consistently and entirely ugly as the strictest connoisseur could -demand. - -Philippa loved dogs, and in general her amiable feelings towards them -were reciprocated. She had a very tender association with dachshunds, -the tragic death of one such pet having been literally the sorest grief -of her childhood, and as she gazed on her four-footed fellow-traveller, -whose soft eyes gazed back at her in return from the seat exactly -opposite hers, where he was comfortably established in a corner, it was -perhaps well for her that the blue-tinted spectacles hid the tears which -involuntarily dimmed their surface. - -_Never_ since that terrible day--now, what the young girl would have -called "so many, many years ago," when the broken-hearted child had -sobbed itself to sleep for the loss of her darling--never had she seen -another dog so exactly like "Valentine." - -"Oh, you dear, dear dog," she said, under her breath, "I feel as if you -must know me." - -The words were quite inaudible, but some doggie instinct must have -carried their meaning to the brain of poor Valentine's double, for with -something between a smile and a sigh--literally speaking, a yawn of -regret at the interruption of his comfortable repose--the dachshund, at -the cost of considerable self-denial, slowly lifted himself, and with -something between a spring and a stretch, landed his lengthy person on -Philippa's knee. Thence he lifted his reddy-brown eyes, gleaming with -mingled pathos and humour, to her face for approval. - -"You dear little man, good doggie," exclaimed Miss Raynsworth, too -delighted to remember her role, "how sweet of you to come to me! How -did you find out I wanted you?" - -Suddenly a voice interrupted her. Till this moment, absorbed by the -dog, his owner had not attracted her attention. She was vaguely -conscious of two elderly women at the other end of the carriage, and a -man of some kind on the same side as the dachs, but that was all. - -Now, glancing up quickly at the preliminary "I beg your pardon," she -became aware of a pair of eyes, reddy-brown eyes, which might have been -the dog's own transferred to a human face, looking at her with an -expression in which, however, there was nothing pathetic, only kindly -and good-humoured surprise. - -"I beg your pardon," their owner repeated; "I never saw Solomon take -such liberties before.--Down, Solomon; down, sir." - -But Solomon demurred. - -"She likes having me," he said, as plainly as dog language can speak, -with a deprecatory wag of his tail, and Philippa passed her arm round -him. - -"I love him," she said, eagerly; "he is so like--one I had," her voice -dropping a little. "Do let him stay with me. `Solomon'--what a nice -name!" - -Solomon wagged his tail more energetically. For him the situation was -quite agreeably clear; not so for his master. As Philippa glanced again -at the young man the expression of surprise, almost of perplexity, on -his face came home to her, bringing with it the remembrance of her -assumed personality. The colour rushed into her face as she realised -how imperfect was her preparation for carrying out her part. - -"The very first time I have had to speak to any one," she thought to -herself, "I have completely forgotten it all! Dear me, how shall I ever -get on? It was all your fault, Solomon," giving him an affectionate -little hug. - -Solomon's master, meanwhile, was increasingly perplexed. The -discrepancy between the young girl's easy manner and well-bred tone of -voice, and the rigorous simplicity of her dress, which even his -masculine eyes perceived to be not that of a lady, struck him more and -more. - -"What was there to make her get so red about?" he said to himself, and -he was turning away, out of pity for her embarrassment, when she again -addressed him. - -"I am so fond of dogs, sir," she said, slowly. "I am quite accustomed -to taking care of them." - -"Certainly, if you like to be troubled with him," the young man replied, -somewhat inconsequently. He spoke with perfect civility, yet there was -an impalpable change in his tone at once perceptible to Philippa's quick -ears--her last sentences had succeeded in their object. Yet the -consciousness of this was accompanied to her by an altogether -unreasonable touch of annoyance. - -"He is quite satisfied already that I am a servant," she reflected. -"Really, if beauty is but skin deep, social distinctions, or the outward -signs of them, are far less so," and again the blood mounted to her -cheeks, this time, however, without attracting the notice of her -fellow-traveller, who had now opened a magazine and was absorbed in its -contents. - -CHAPTER FIVE. - -"SOLOMON." - -Philippa sat quietly in her corner, one arm thrown comfortably round -Solomon's plump little person, perfectly to that philosopher's content. -Among the various preparations for her journey, it had not occurred to -the young girl to provide herself with any literature. Her eyes were -consequently at leisure to occupy themselves with anything of interest -that might come in their way. But the country through which the train -was just then passing was flat and monotonous; she soon grew tired of -staring out of the window, and she dared not amuse herself with Solomon -for fear of attracting his master's attention. - -Furthermore, the dachs, by this time was contentedly asleep. - -Philippa's eyes strayed to the end of the carriage. One of the elderly -ladies had already followed Solomon's example; her sister, for sisters -they unmistakably were, returned Philippa's slight glance in her -direction with a somewhat severe look of doubtful approval. - -"What a forward girl!" she had been saying to herself, and Philippa -almost felt the words. - -She only smiled to herself, however. - -"I am really going through excellent training already," she thought, and -again she turned to the window. - -A moment or two later, however, some instinct, possibly merely a -sensation of suppressed restlessness, led her to glance at Solomon's -master, and this time she was able to do so unobserved, for maiden-lady -number two had also closed her eyes in peaceful repose. - -"How ugly he is!" was Miss Raynsworth's first idea, and the adjective -was in some sense justified, for the charm of the young man's face -doubtless lay in his pleasant eyes, at present lowered so as he read. -But there is ugliness and ugliness, and in the face under Miss -Raynsworth's scrutiny, in spite of its somewhat rugged features, there -was nothing in the very slightest degree repellent or hard. The mouth -was excellent, the rest of the features in no way remarkable, and yet -not commonplace or in any sense weak, and a good mouth means a great -deal. On the whole the face was interesting, and the longer Philippa -observed him the more inclined she felt to modify her first somewhat -wholesale opinion. - -"I wonder how old he is," she said to herself; "he might be almost any -age between twenty-four and thirty-four." - -Then as he turned a leaf of his magazine, she hastily glanced away for -fear of detection. There was another motive, besides that of an ever -ready interest in her fellow-creatures, strongly developed in the girl; -the face before her reminded her of some other that she had seen lately, -though when or where she could not for some time recall. She glanced up -furtively, and at last it flashed upon her, so much to her satisfaction, -that she could scarcely suppress an exclamation of triumph. - -"I know whom he is like, and yet they are as different as possible; it -is that Mr Gresham whom I saw at Dorriford, that very silent man. And -yet he was _so_ handsome, and this man is just the opposite. What -curious things likenesses are!" - -At this point in her reflections she must have got a little drowsy, for -which Solomon's gentle, monotonous breathing close to her ear may -possibly to some extent have been accountable. Whether this was the -case or not, she knew nothing more till she was roused by the slackening -of the train, quickly followed by preparations on the part of the two -elderly ladies for leaving the carriage, which they did with their -various rugs and bags as soon as it drew up at a large important -station, one of the two or three at which the express stopped on its -northward route. - -Solomon yawned and looked about him, then fixed his gaze inquiringly on -his master as if to ask: "Do _we_ get out here too?" But to this -inarticulate question the young man vouchsafed no reply, and Solomon -settled himself down again. - -"Are you not getting tired of having him?" he said to Philippa, when he -had courteously helped the old ladies and their belongings on to the -platform. - -"Oh, no, no, thank you, sir," she replied, "not at all; but," getting up -from her seat, "I must go to see if my lady wants anything. She is in -the next carriage." - -"You had better be quick," said her fellow-traveller, warningly; "we are -going on again almost immediately, and I fancy we are a little behind -time." - -Philippa managed, however, to peep in next door where Evelyn was still -alone, apparently very comfortable and rather sleepy. - -"I am all right, thank you, quite right," she volunteered, before her -sister had time to make any inquiry. "I think I must have been asleep a -little, but I don't mind when there is nobody in the carriage." - -"The best thing you could have done," said Philippa, approvingly. "I -don't think we stop again now till Great Malden, where we change, you -know, for the local line," and nodding cheerfully she turned away, but -not till some last words from Evelyn reached her. - -"It is nice to know you're next door, Phil." - -The girl sprang up into her own compartment just as the train began to -move. Her former fellow-traveller, who was near the door, caught her -arm to help her in. - -"You really should be more careful," he said; "there is nothing so risky -as waiting till the last moment." - -"Thank you, sir," said Philippa, feeling guilty; "it was careless of -me." - -She ensconced herself in her corner again, but with a sensation of -annoyance, which even Solomon's unmistakable satisfaction at her -reappearance did not allay. - -"How stupid I am," she thought to herself, "always doing something or -other to attract notice when I should be quite unobserved!" and her -face, as she sat staring out of the window, had lost its former cheerful -expression. - -So, at least, it seemed to Solomon's master, as in spite of himself he -glanced at her more than once. - -"There's something uncommon about the girl," he thought to himself, -"hyper-sensitive, I should say, for her position--possibly she was born -in a better one. I don't see that there was anything to hurt her -feelings in what I said just now." - -But he was essentially kind-hearted, and the worried look on the girl's -countenance, and the absent way in which she returned the little dog's -friendly demonstrations, made him feel sorry for her. - -"Perhaps her mistress is down upon her, poor girl," he thought; "some -women must be terribly tyrannical to their servants." - -They travelled on in silence, however, for a considerable time. By -degrees the aspect of the country through which they were passing -changed for the better--a little exclamation of pleasure escaped -Philippa involuntarily as a charming view burst upon them. It was that -of a small lake, its shores beautifully wooded, with rising ground on -the farther side. - -"Oh, how pretty!" she said, quickly, though instantly checking herself -as she remembered that she was not alone. Rather to her surprise her -fellow-traveller responded to her exclamation. - -"Yes," he said, "the part of the country we are coming to now is worth -looking at, if you've never been here before. It's rather like the -prettiest part of Nethershire." - -"Oh," said Philippa, impulsively, interested at once; "isn't -Merle-in-the-Wold in Nethershire? I passed that way last week--it was -charming." - -Again the change in her tone and way of speaking struck her companion -curiously. There was a coincidence, too, in the name she had just -mentioned. - -"Yes," he replied; "it is that part I was thinking of; I know it well." - -But already Philippa had had time to repent her impulsiveness, and a -slight feeling of alarm added to her discomfort--alarm at her own -indiscretion. - -"I shall be telling where my own home is next," she thought to herself; -"I really am too foolish for words." - -It was too late, however, to do away with the impression her -inconsistency had produced. The young man went on speaking. - -"Have you seen the ruins of the old abbey at Merle-in-the-Wold?" he -said. - -"Oh, no, sir, I have never stayed there," Philippa replied, but she felt -that she was not playing her part as she should. For something in his -manner, quiet as it was, convinced her that her companion's curiosity -was aroused. - -"Oh, I thought that you knew that part of Nethershire?" he said, more -for the sake of saying something to cause her to reply than from any -definite motive in the inquiry. - -"N-no," said Philippa, "I have only passed that way. I never heard of -the ruins."--"How I wish I had a book!" she thought to herself; "though -he is perfectly nice, he is evidently trying to make me out I am afraid -to speak, and I am afraid not to speak. I wish to goodness he hadn't -had a dog with him, though you _are_ such a darling," this last with -reference to Solomon, who, seeming to read her thoughts, poked his long -nose affectionately right up into her face. - -Something in her manner made the young man conscious that his speaking -to her caused her annoyance, and he turned his attention again to his -magazine, greatly to Philippa's relief. - -"I suppose it is really a very good thing," she thought again, "that I -have had this experiment. I had no idea I should be so utterly silly -and without presence of mind; I really must drill myself!" - -For the present, however, there was no further opportunity of doing so, -her fellow-traveller leaving her and his dog to their own devices for -the rest of the time that had to pass till they reached Great Malden. -At this station the sisters were to leave the main line for a branch -one, by which an hour's much slower travelling would bring them to their -journey's end. - -As they entered the large station, Philippa collected her few belongings -preparatory to getting out and rejoining Mrs Headfort. - -"Good-bye, poor doggie," she said, softly, as she patted Solomon's sleek -head; and, short as their acquaintance had been, a curious feeling of -sadness stole over her as she caught sight of the unmistakable regret in -the dachs' wistful eyes. His master read on till after Philippa had -left the compartment, apparently unconscious of the farewell and of the -girl's departure. - -Evelyn, by this time more or less in a fluster as to catching the other -train without leaving her luggage behind her, or similar catastrophes, -welcomed her sister joyfully. - -"Really," she said, when she found herself once more comfortably -established for the third and last time with nothing missing or left -behind, "really, Phil, what a splendid courier you are! I have got -quite out of things with India, and leading such a stay-at-home life -since I came back, and you never seem to lose your head in the least," -she concluded, admiringly. - -"I have always been stronger than you, you know, Evey," said Philippa, -glancing affectionately at her sister, whose pretty face had just now -the added charm of a soft flush of excitement. "And really," she added, -"there has been nothing whatever just now to lose one's head about. To -all appearance this little train might have been peacefully waiting for -us all day, and, now we are here, it shows no signs of intending to -move." Then, with a sudden change of tone--"Oh, I declare," she -exclaimed, as at that moment a dog, catching sight of her as she stood -at the door of Mrs Headfort's carriage, rushed up and sprang at her -with the liveliest delight. - -It was Solomon. - -"Down, down, good doggie, be quiet," said Philippa, hastily, afraid of -startling Evelyn. But that small piece of mischief was already -accomplished. Mrs Headfort jumped up in alarm. - -"Phil, Phil," she cried, "do send him away! A strange dog dashing at -you like that; he must be mad!" - -"Nonsense," said Philippa: "look at him; he's a perfect dear--just like -Valentine; as gentle as he can be. Don't be so silly, Evey." - -But as she said the last words, looking round, to her horror, she caught -sight of Solomon's owner standing, as might have been expected under the -circumstances, but a few paces off. - -Could he have heard her! Philippa trembled at the thought. - -"And I, who had imagined he was safely whizzing off northwards in the -express!" she reflected. - -Nerving herself she turned round so as to face him. His expression of -countenance was entirely imperturbable; it told her nothing. Coolly -whistling the dog off, he walked along the platform to the farther end -of the train--whether to get into it, or to pass the time while waiting -for some other, Philippa could not discover--Solomon obediently, though -reluctantly, following him. - -"The dog's gone," said Miss Raynsworth, turning to her sister with a -touch of sharpness in her voice. "He was all right, I assure you. He -knew me again, because he travelled in the same compartment with me from -Crowminster." - -"Well, you might have said so," said her sister, half ashamed of her -fright. "I wish you'd get into your carriage, Philippa; we are sure to -start immediately." - -"I'm going," the girl replied. "But _isn't_ he like Valentine, Evey?" - -She moved away, however, without waiting for a reply. - -The rest of the journey passed without incident. She spent the time in -taking herself to task for having again lapsed into her ordinary tone to -Evelyn, too confident of not being overheard, and in mentally drilling -herself for the future. - -"It was all Solomon's fault," she said to herself, "both just now and in -the other train. I do hope he and his master are safely off in a -different direction. But even if they are in the train, there is no -reason why they should be going on to Wyverston station. I shall look -out every time we stop on the chance of seeing: them." - -She had plenty of opportunities for so doing. Never had a train gone on -its way more deliberately, or come to a standstill more frequently. But -on none of the small platforms alongside of which they drew up did -Philippa perceive the pair of travellers for whom she was on the -outlook. Her hopes began to rise. - -"I really think," she said to herself, "that they can't have come by -this train. I daresay I am silly, but the very idea of that man's being -in the neighbourhood makes me nervous. I am so certain he was curious -about me." - -This satisfaction at her fellow-travellers' disappearance proved, -however, premature. A station or two before that of the sisters' -destination, lo and behold! on a deserted-looking roadside platform, -there stood, having evidently just emerged from the train, the dachshund -and his master! - -Quick as thought, Philippa, who had been glancing out half carelessly, -drew back, retiring to the farther end of her solitary compartment. It -might have been fancy, but she felt certain that Solomon was looking out -for her. There was an indescribable air of alertness about him, even -his long nose was elevated, and one of his pendent ears unmistakably -cocked. Philippa felt almost guilty. - -"Poor darling," she thought, "I hate disappointing him, but I dare not -risk it. I devoutly hope the pair are not in the habit of country -strolls anywhere near Wyverston, for we can't be far from there now." - -But in what direction they bent their steps, or whether any conveyance -was waiting for them, she had no means of discovering. Before the train -slowly moved on again they must have left the station; no trace of them -remained, not even a little heap of luggage awaiting deliberate removal -by a country porter. - -CHAPTER SIX. - -"MISS RAY." - -In the interest of their near approach to their journey's end, Philippa -put her recent fellow-travellers out of her mind. The afternoon was -drawing in as she stepped out on to the platform at Wyverston; a fresh, -invigorating breeze met her, bringing with it what she could almost have -fancied a faint scent of the sea. - -"We are not very far from the coast, I know," she thought to herself, -"but I had no idea it was such hilly country. It must be very bleak in -winter," and the thought made her hasten to her sister to ensure her -wrapping up before leaving the shelter of her comfortable compartment. - -Mrs Headfort was looking out for her. - -"Evey," began Philippa hastily, but in an instant corrected herself. -"You must let me undo the rugs, ma'am," she said in the quiet tone of -voice she had adopted to suit her new personality. "It is ever so much -colder here than at home." - -"Naturally," said Evelyn; "we have been coming north all the way. Yes, -I suppose we had better get out my fur cloak." - -There was no time to do so in the carriage, however. But when all their -belongings were safely collected on the platform, Philippa hastened to -extricate the garment in question. She had laid the bundle of rugs on -the top of a portmanteau, imagining it to be one of their own boxes; but -as she strapped up the roll again, the letters "M.V.G." on the surface -beneath caught her eyes, and glancing round she noticed a gun-case on -which was painted in white letters the name "M.V. Gresham." - -"How odd!" she thought; "whose things can these be? No other passenger -has got out. And what a strange coincidence that I had said to myself -that Solomon's master somehow reminded me of Mr Gresham at Dorriford!" - -"This luggage is not ours," she went on aloud, to the attendant porter; -"has it been put out by mistake?" - -"It's all right, miss," said a young footman, whom she now observed for -the first time; "it's to go up in the cart along of your lady's. Mr -Gresham--I should say Mr Michael--always gets out at Linley and walks -up across the moor." - -Philippa's heart for a moment seemed to stand still. She saw it all in -a flash. The young man, her fellow-traveller, some relation no doubt of -his namesake at Dorriford, was evidently an _habitue_ of Wyverston--an -expected guest there like her sister Evelyn! - -She bit her lips with vexation and dismay. "To think what a fool I have -made of myself! Was there ever anything so unlucky?" and her inward -feelings gave a stiffness to her manner scarcely judicious under the -circumstances, as she turned to the civil-spoken young servant, hardly -more than a boy in years. - -"Will you see to those things then," she said, as she turned with the -cloak to wrap it round her sister, already shivering with the fresh air, -which to Philippa's stronger frame seemed pleasantly bracing. - -"The maid's far high-and-mightier than the lady," thought the young -fellow to himself, as Evelyn thanked him with her usual pretty -graciousness as he arranged a fur carriage-rug round her when she was -seated in the brougham. And this first impression was not improbably -communicated to his fellow-servants at the Hall. - -"Phil," said Evelyn, eagerly, as they drove off, "I've quite made up my -mind already that I don't at all want Duke to succeed to Wyverston. -It's far too bleak and cold. It would kill me; I don't know how I shall -stand even my week here." - -Philippa could not help laughing. - -"You really are too absurd, Evey," she said, "in the way you jump at -conclusions. I shouldn't wonder if the bracing air were to do you a -great deal of good, and the house is pretty sure to be warm and -comfortable. But there, now, you are tempting me again to forget whom I -am. You really mustn't do it, Evelyn; it makes it so much harder to get -into it again each time." - -"We can't sit looking at each other without speaking, and when we are -alone together it would be a perfect absurdity to keep up the farce. -Why, you said yourself what a comfort it would be to have a good talk -now and then," remonstrated Mrs Headfort. - -"We shall have to be very guarded about it," said Philippa, gravely, -"very guarded indeed. To tell you the truth, I do not think I realised -how very difficult _I_ should find it to act my part consistently." - -"Why, you have scarcely begun it yet," said her sister. "You have had -no opportunity of testing yourself." - -Philippa did not reply at once, then she said more lightly: - -"All the more reason for beginning it now in good earnest. Don't let us -talk about anything personal just at present; I wish we were in an open -carriage, this sort of country is so new to me, such a contrast with -home. I like the feeling of the air, a mixture of moor and sea." - -"I think it's awfully chilly and bleak-looking," said Evelyn, with a -little shiver. "But I always have a sort of cold feeling on arriving at -a strange place. It may go off after a little." - -"It is only nervousness," said Philippa, encouragingly. - -"No, no," said Evelyn, "it is worse than that. If you weren't here, I -should be most terribly homesick already. You don't know what I -suffered, Phil, after I was married, when we went out to India, even -though Duke was always so kind. And now, since I came back, I have -learnt to lean on _you_ so! I am afraid I am rather contemptibly weak." - -"Poor little Evey," said her sister, tenderly. "You mustn't say that of -yourself; I understand you perfectly. Physical strength has a great -deal to do with moral strength, after all. But, oh, dear! we are -falling back worse than ever! Now, I am not going to say another word -till we get to the house." - -Evelyn was not attracted by the rather wild scenery through which they -were passing. She leant back in her corner and shut her eyes, which her -sister did not regret, as anything was better than going on talking as -they had been doing. To her the look of the country was full of -interest, and from its very novelty invigorating. - -"I hope I shall sometimes be able to go a good walk by myself," she -thought. "If only I could make friends with some nice dog who would -come with me--dogs generally like me--but, oh, dear! that reminds me of -Solomon, he is _sure_ to be there; how shall I be able to keep out of -his way? Dogs are so acute. What ill-fate made me get into that -unlucky compartment!" - -Her reflections and misgivings, however, were brought to an end more -quickly than she had expected. They had got over the four miles between -the railway station and Wyverston Hall with greater rapidity than she -had realised, and she almost started as they suddenly, or so it seemed -to her, turned in at lodge gates, exchanging the hard high-road for the -pleasant smoothness of a well-kept drive. It had grown much darker, -too, for the avenue at Wyverston was bordered by massive trees of too -sturdy growth to suffer much from the exposed situation. What manner of -trees they were, just now it was impossible to tell--only the faint -fragrance of the falling leaves, and their rustle under the wheels -passing over them, told that autumn winds were already at work. - -Sensitive to every natural influence, however trivial, Philippa peered -out into the dusk with a curious sense of enjoyment. - -"There is something ever so much more romantic about it than about my -arrival at Dorriford," she thought. "I really feel as if I were on the -brink of something tremendously interesting. I wonder what? I daresay -it's all excitement! I have often had these presentiments before, -without their leading to anything. Certainly the thought of tea in the -servants'-hall, or possibly in the housekeeper's room--let me devoutly -hope it will be the latter--is enough to damp any attractive -anticipations," and suddenly there came over her a strong yearning to be -where she was, in her own character--an instinctive revolt from the -position she had placed herself in, however praiseworthy the motive. -And as she sat there in silence, these mingled sensations culminated in -a vague fear, almost amounting to terror, of what might be before her, -of the unknown risks to which she might be exposing herself by the -extraordinary step she had taken--risks outside herself, in no way -connected with the completeness or incompleteness with which she might -carry out her part. - -But want of courage was by no means a characteristic of the girl, and -with the practical good sense which contrasted curiously with the dash -of recklessness in her temperament, she now told herself that, after -all, there was no real ground for these mental tremors. - -"I am actually mistress of the situation," she thought. "It _does_ -depend upon myself, and I am not afraid of breaking down once I am -really started, for I have plenty of imagination. Rather too much, in -some ways--if we had been arriving on a bright summer afternoon, with -the sun shining and no feeling of mystery and gloom, I should have been -quite in high spirits. After all, considering everything, I daresay it -is safer for me to be rather depressed." - -Very grave she was, very grave, indeed, as she stood behind Mrs -Headfort in the hall a moment or two later. She was intensely eager to -judge of the nature of Evelyn's reception by her new relatives, but for -the present she had small opportunity for observing anything. No member -of the family was visible--only an irreproachable, grey-haired butler -was informing her sister that the ladies were in the drawing-room, ere -he turned to show her the way thither, and Evelyn, as she followed him, -glanced back for an instant with a half-piteous, half-humorous -expression which made Philippa feel as if she must either laugh or cry-- -which, she could not have decided. - -To neither inclination, of course, did she yield; she did not even -speak, as, in her turn, she followed a younger man-servant who civilly -offered to show her the way to the housekeeper's room, a new question -presenting itself to her mind at the words. What sort of person would -the housekeeper turn out to be? A great deal might hang upon this-- -everything almost, in fact; and as the vision of some housekeepers she -had seen, stout and self-satisfied, innately vulgar in their very -civility and obsequiousness to their superiors, rose before her mind's -eye, again it came home to Miss Raynsworth that she had been far from -realising what she was undertaking. - -A door in the somewhat dimly-lighted passage was thrown open, and as the -footman stood aside to let her pass in, a pleasant, gentle voice met her -ears. - -"Good-evening," it said, quietly; "you must have had rather a cold -journey. You have just arrived with Mrs Marmaduke Headfort, have you -not? Take a seat by the fire," and as Philippa murmured her thanks and -glanced round her at the neat, comfortable little room, Mrs Shepton, -for such was her name, went on with increasing kindliness of tone, as -she saw that the girl seemed young, and suspected that she was -timid.--"It is long past tea-time, of course, but I have ordered a -little for you. I thought you would be glad of it." - -"I shall be very glad of it, indeed," said Philippa, looking up -gratefully, and speaking in the slow, careful way she had determined to -adopt, and in the housekeeper's face she read nothing to modify the -first instinct of confidence and satisfaction drawn forth by the tone of -her voice. - -Mrs Shepton was an elderly woman, with a pleasant though somewhat -careworn face. She had "known trouble" in her time, and many details of -her sad, though by no means uncommon little history were confided to -Philippa's sympathising ears before her stay at Wyverston came to an -end. And with some natures sorrow elevates as well as softens; though -not in any conventional sense superior to her class, the good -housekeeper was one whom no true woman, of whatever position, need have -hesitated to call a friend. And Philippa's instincts were quick and -keen. - -"She is nice, and good, and kind," she decided at once. "It will make -the greatest possible difference to me to have to do with such a woman. -I feel as if she were a superior sort of Dorcas." - -The sweet expression on the girl's face went straight to Mrs Shepton's -heart. - -"There's nothing like a cup of tea to refresh one after travelling," she -said in her homely way--there were occasions on which the housekeeper -could be correctly dignified and "stand-off" even to the most superior -of ladies' maids--but just now her one thought was to set this shy young -creature at her ease. "You have come from Mrs Marmaduke's home, I -suppose?" she went on, as she handed the tea to Philippa. "I don't -remember rightly where it is, but it's at several hours' distance from -here, I know." - -"It is in ---shire, close to Marlby," Philippa replied. "We left the -house about eleven o'clock this morning." - -"Have you been long with your lady?" pursued Mrs Shepton. "You look so -young. You couldn't have been out in India with her, surely?" - -"Oh, no, I was scarcely grown-up then. I have only just entered Mrs -Headfort's service, but," she added, after an instant's consideration, -"she has known me a long time." - -Mrs Shepton nodded, approvingly. - -"Been in the young lady's Sunday-school class, I daresay," she thought -to herself, and aloud she added, though without any suggestion of -inquisitiveness, "That is very nice; your mother must be pleased for you -not to be with strangers, that is to say if--" for the seriousness of -the girl's face, and her absolutely black attire, hinted at the -possibility of her having recently lost some near relation. - -Philippa understood the hesitation and answered at once, speaking more -quickly and brightly than hitherto. - -"Oh, yes, I have a mother, and father too!" - -"I am glad to hear it," rejoined Mrs Shepton, "but, by-the-by, my -dear,"--the expression denoting that the new-comer had made a -marvellously rapid stride in her good graces--"you've not yet told me -your name!" - -For the first time, strange to say, it struck Philippa that this--her -surname, that is to say--was as yet an unknown quantity. She was -fortunately not one of those people who change colour on small -provocation. - -"Mrs Headfort calls me Phillis," she said, slowly. - -The housekeeper looked rather surprised. - -"Phillis," she repeated; "that is a first name. I suppose it's with her -having known you so long; but it was your surname I meant. It wouldn't -do for the servants here to call you by your first name. Of course in a -big house like this we have to be very particular." - -"Of course," said Philippa, rather coldly. Then recollecting -herself--"My last name," she said, "is `Ray'--`Phillis Ray,'" and she -smiled slightly in spite of herself. - -"Then `Miss Ray' you must be to every one here but myself," said Mrs -Shepton. "There are not so many visitors among us just now as -sometimes. There's only Mrs Worthing's maid--a very experienced -person, much older than you; and Mr Gresham's valet, Mr Furze, a quiet -young man, and of course he's so often here with his master that he's -scarcely like a stranger. But when we are by ourselves as just now, my -dear, I should like to call you Phillis; I had a sister once of that -name--long ago." - -"Yes, please do," said Philippa, heartily.--"Mr Gresham, did you say," -she continued. "Is that a gentleman with a dog? I saw the name on some -luggage at the station, which must have belonged to him. They travelled -part of the way in our train--in the carriage I was in--second-class, -but I didn't see any valet." - -There was a touch of curiosity in her tone, which rather surprised and -possibly disappointed the housekeeper. - -"The Mr Gresham I alluded to," she said, somewhat stiffly, "has been -staying here some time. The young gentleman who came down to-day is Mr -Michael, his cousin. You must excuse me, my dear, if I remind you not -to speak of your lady as Mrs Headfort, but as Mrs Marmaduke," she went -on. "She is, of course, Mrs Headfort next to my lady, but still--" - -"Certainly," interrupted Philippa, heartily, "I will be careful about -it. Thank you for reminding me, Mrs Shepton. And indeed," she -continued, "I should be very much obliged to you if you will tell me--me -myself--of anything you think I require advice about. I am not very -experienced, as you can see;" and in her own mind she thought, "this is -an excellent precaution to take. It will prevent any gossip about me -which might not otherwise come to my ears. For I am sure this good -woman is thoroughly to be trusted. And if the Mr Gresham here really -proves to be the one I met at Dorriford, I must be doubly on the alert. -It is really too strange a coincidence." - -Philippa's last words quite gained Mrs Shepton's heart, and made her -slight sensation of disapproval of the young girl's apparent lapse into -gossip concerning any of the visitors at Wyverston disappear. Her eyes -had the kindliest light in them as she replied: - -"It will please me very much indeed, my dear, if you will look upon me -while you're here as if I were in a mother's place to you; and now, I -daresay, I had better take you to your room--the sooner you take your -things off the better, as the dressing-gong will be sounding soon. Take -care," as Philippa wavered a little on first getting up; "are you so -very short-sighted?" - -"Oh, no," said Philippa, "I wear spectacles as a precaution;" the truth -being that her unaccustomedness to the glasses, and the reflection of -the firelight upon them, had dazzled her a little. - -"Oh," said Mrs Shepton, tranquilly. "It is best to err on the safe -side if your eyes are at all weakly. But I should have been sorry if -you had really feeble sight, it stands so much in a maid's way." - -So saying, she opened the door of the room and led the way along the -passage to a staircase at the farther end. - -CHAPTER SEVEN. - -A SUCCESSFUL DEBUT. - -In all large country-houses of a certain importance, there is more or -less resemblance in the internal aspect of things. And this Philippa -felt conscious of as she followed Mrs Shepton up-stairs--across -landings, down passages, and up-stairs again. - -"I could fancy myself back at Dorriford," she said to herself, with -mingled sensations. "It is barely a week since I left it. What _would_ -Maida Lermont think if she could see me now? What would I have thought -myself, if I had had a vision of the present state of things? Yet -Dorriford is as different as possible from this place--all bright and -fresh there, and this old house seems to _breathe_ stiffness and -formality. I am sure Evey will be frightened if they put her into one -of the state bedrooms. I do hope my room won't be far from hers." - -She was learning prudence, however, and said nothing till surer of her -ground. And her reticence was rewarded. For just as, with some dismay, -she caught sight of another staircase, evidently leading to some very -upper regions indeed, the housekeeper stopped short, turning down a -small and almost dark passage on the floor where they were. - -"Our own maidservants' rooms are up that staircase," said the -housekeeper, "and also two or three for visitors' ladies' maids. But -there is a little room close beside Mrs Marmaduke's, which my lady -thought would be best for you. It opens into her dressing-room by -another door--this is therefore a sort of back-way to her rooms. My -ladies thought she might feel strange, this being her first visit, and -with her not being very strong, as I understand." - -The good woman did not add that the suggestion had in great measure -emanated from herself, however readily it had been adopted by her -mistress. - -"Oh, I _am_ glad, said Philippa, eagerly. I don't mind anything as long -as I am near her," for as Mrs Shepton opened the door of the small -apartment intended for Mrs Marmaduke Headfort's maid, she murmured -something, almost in a tone of apology, about its very restricted size. - -The housekeeper glanced at her with kindly approval, not unmixed, -however, perhaps, with a little amusement. Philippa had spoken -impulsively and more in her own character than she realised. - -"How devoted she is to her lady," thought the elder woman. "She will be -laughed at for it, I daresay, by other servants, and perhaps it may be -well for her not to express it quite so warmly. But it reflects credit -on them both. Mrs Marmaduke must be a sweet young lady. It will be -very nice if my ladies take a fancy to her, and then some day, perhaps, -we shall be having the dear little boy here." - -For the premature death of the two sons of the house, and the failure of -an heir to Wyverston, had been felt scarcely less acutely by the -attached old servants than by the Headforts themselves. And Mrs -Shepton had been full of eager interest in the overtures at last, though -somewhat tardily made, to her master's cousin, now the next in -succession. - -Philippa's modest luggage was already standing unstrapped in her room. -It was evident that all the arrangements at Wyverston were punctual and -orderly. - -"Through here are Mrs Marmaduke's rooms," said Mrs Shepton. "I -daresay you will have time to get some unpacking done before she comes -up to dress. And you must be sure to tell me of anything she wants, or -anything not quite to her mind. There are two bells, you see," and she -went on to explain where they rang to; "it is just as well to have one -to up-stairs, even though you are close at hand. For this part of the -house is rather shut out from the rest, as you see; it is a sort of -little wing apart, and there is another to match it on the north side. -My lady chose these south rooms, as so much warmer." - -They were very good rooms, rendered more cheerful than they would -otherwise have been by bright fires. For as Philippa had anticipated, -they were very stately and somewhat gloomy. - -"I am quite certain Evey would have been awfully afraid of sleeping here -alone," she thought, but aloud she thanked the housekeeper for all her -care and consideration. - -"And where shall I go, when Mrs Marmaduke is dressed and gone down to -dinner?" she inquired, half timidly. - -Mrs Shepton considered. She felt quite a motherly interest in Phillis -Ray. - -"You will be busy for some time arranging all your lady's things," she -said. "I will send up to fetch you in time for supper; it would be -pleasanter for you than coming down to the room by yourself." - -"The room?" Philippa repeated, in some perplexity. - -"Our room, of course, I mean," said the housekeeper, smiling. "Supper -is at half-past nine. Our second-housemaid is a very nice girl, rather -young, perhaps, for the post, but a superior girl in many ways. Her -name is Bell--Isabella Bell, a curious first name to choose, isn't it? -The head-housemaid is quite an elderly woman, who has been here for many -years. My ladies think very highly of her, and,"--with the slightest -touch of hesitation--"she expects to be treated very respectfully by the -younger ones." - -Philippa laughed slightly. - -"Thank you for warning me, Mrs Shepton," she said. - -As she spoke she was already taking off her bonnet and cloak, and again -the housekeeper felt approval of her evident alertness. - -"I will leave you now," she said; "you will need all your time to get -things ready," and so saying, she went away. - -As soon as she had the room to herself, Philippa sat down on the little -bed with a deep sigh of relief. - -"How nice it is to be myself again, even for a moment," she thought. -"How shall I ever be able to endure the not being it for a whole week or -more? But how thankful I am that the housekeeper is such a nice, good -woman; how _very_ thankful! At the worst, at the very worst, if any -really terrible complications arise, I almost think I might confide in -her; I am sure she has nice feelings in every way." - -This was something to fall back upon, and indeed she required it; for -the realisation of the presence in the house, of a man whom she was -almost sure was the same as the "silent Mr Gresham" whom she had met at -Dorriford, was undoubtedly appalling. - -"I mustn't frighten Evey about it," she considered, "but I must find out -about him from her without betraying why. His being here and having -seen me before, might not, after all, have mattered much; he saw so -little of me, and when we were walking about the garden I could scarcely -get him to speak. I wonder if he thought me very young? _I_ noticed -him, as anybody must have done, because he is so extremely good-looking! -But _the_ thing that frightens me is the stupid way in which I drew the -other Mr Gresham's attention upon me in the train. One could not have -invented anything so unlucky," but here the sound of an opening door -startled her. "I must be quick," she thought, with a glance in the -looking-glass, and a hasty touch at her somewhat ruffled hair, "or I -shall have nothing ready for Evey." It was not her sister, however, -only a housemaid with hot water, as Philippa saw, as she made her way -through the dressing-room. A civil "good-evening," however, was all -that the servant stopped to say, being evidently in a hurry. - -"Now," thought Philippa, "comes a part of my role that I shall really -enjoy. It will be charming to make Evelyn look her prettiest, and I -know she will wear exactly what I tell her. I do love nice clothes," -and with great satisfaction she proceeded to lift out her sister's -carefully chosen "trousseau" for the occasion. - -She had just finished laying out on the bed the dress she had mentally -fixed upon as the most suitable for this first evening--a sort of debut -it seemed to Philippa, and far from an unimportant one, when again the -door opened, this time to admit Evelyn herself, followed, or rather, -strictly speaking, preceded by the eldest of the unmarried daughters of -the house. - -"I do hope you will find everything as you like it, and do ask for -anything you want," said Miss Headfort, as she ushered in the young -guest. "Dinner is at eight, so you have nearly an hour still; time to -rest a little before dressing." - -The voice was a pleasantly modulated one, and its tone was undoubtedly -cordial. From the other side of the room, Philippa glanced round with -curiosity to catch sight of the speaker. She was a tall, rather slight -woman, in figure and bearing looking perhaps younger than her age, which -was quite forty. But her face was not young; there were lines of sorrow -upon it, and her dark eyes, though really sweet in expression when one -came to see them closely, were wanting in vivacity and light. - -"Why," thought Philippa to herself, "she looks a hundred times more -melancholy than Maida, and yet her life _cannot_ have been as hard-- -except, of course, for the brothers' deaths,"--with a little pang of -self-reproach at her momentary forgetfulness, "but I do think she seems -nice and kind to Evey," and this agreeable impression was confirmed by -the sound of her sister's voice in reply. - -"Thank you; I am sure I shall be as comfortable as possible," said -Evelyn. "Will you call for me on your way down-stairs?" she added, with -the touch of appeal which to her sister's discerning ears told at once -of her having "taken to" this new relative. - -"Certainly, if you like," was the reply, and the little touch Miss -Headfort gave to Evelyn's shoulder as she left the room told of evident -gratification. - -For a moment or two after the door closed, Philippa remained stooping -over a trunk without speaking. It was not till Evelyn flung herself on -the sofa and called out to her half petulantly, that she thought it safe -to reply. - -"Why don't you speak, Phil?" she said. "You surely don't intend to keep -up the farce when we are safely alone by ourselves?" - -"It would really be better to do so," replied Philippa, cautiously, -glancing round at both doors before she finally emerged from the shelter -of the big trunk, "but, of course, I won't do anything to worry you, -Evey. I suppose there is no fear of any one coming to this room before -Miss Headfort returns?" - -She crossed the floor to the sofa where her sister lay, as she spoke. - -Evelyn in her turn glanced round half-nervously. - -"You will make me too fidgety for anything," she said. "No, I don't -think it is the least likely that any one will come; the housemaid has -brought the hot water, I see, and the trunks are all up. And even if -any one did come, they would knock at the door--oh, bother, there are -two doors! I hate a room with two doors. I never know which to be most -frightened of in the night." - -"This one," said Philippa, indicating it as she spoke, "leads into a -dressing-room, and out of that again, the little room where I sleep. It -was very thoughtful of them to put me so near you, but if you would -rather lock the doors between us at night, _I_ have no objection." - -She spoke laughingly, but underneath the jesting tone there was a touch -of slightly hurt feeling. She had been longing so to see her sister -again, even after the one half-hour's separation; she was so intensely -anxious to know what had passed in the drawing-room, and now here was -Evelyn, not even affectionate, the very reverse of clinging! - -"Nonsense," said her sister; "of course I'm only too delighted to have -you close by. I would like to look at the rooms," and she half sat up -as if with the purpose of doing so, but sank down again. "Oh, I am -tired," she said, wearily. "Get a footstool, Philippa, if there is one, -and come and sit on the floor beside me, the way we do at home. Oh, -don't you wish we were at home again? It's all so strange and--" - -"No," interrupted Philippa, her warm heart going out again with a rush -of tenderness the very instant any appeal was made to it. "No, you're -not to say `lonely' just when I am here on purpose to prevent you -feeling so." - -She had espied a footstool by this time and drew it forward as her -sister wished. - -"Now," she said, "we can talk comfortably for a few minutes; unless, -indeed, it would be better for you not to talk at all, and rest entirely -till you have to dress." - -Evelyn lay back with closed eyes; she certainly was looking very pale -now, but what else could have been expected? - -"I _am_ glad I came," thought her sister, conscious that a momentary -feeling almost of jealousy of the new cousin had passed through her. "I -_am_ glad I came, and if she does get on well with these people, even to -the extent of not seeming to need me, I _won't_ mind. I shall know it -is only on the surface. What she would have done without me, -practically speaking, I really don't know! She is about as fit just now -to look out her things and dress herself, as a mouse to draw a train. -And what _would_ her hair be like? It's in a perfect chaos of fluff, -and I am certain that the Headforts wear theirs perfectly smooth and -have no fringes." - -She smiled at the thought, and as she did so, Evelyn opened her eyes. - -"What are you laughing at?" she inquired, languidly, and as her sister -told her, she, too, smiled. - -"Yes," she replied, "you are quite right. They have all three got dark -hair, as smooth as--oh, I can't trouble to find a comparison--`as smoove -as smoove' as Bonny says--dear Bonny! But I do think they mean to be -nice, really nice and cordial, Phil, especially Felicia, the one you saw -just now; she is the eldest. Perhaps I'd better not talk much--" - -"You had better talk in a lower voice," said Philippa; "it is less -tiring, and safer too. All I want to know just now is that you do think -you will be able to get on with them without much effort." - -"Ye-es, I do think so," answered Evelyn. "I must try to be a little -more dignified than I am at home, and that is rather a strain." - -"You can be beautifully dignified when you choose," said Philippa, -encouragingly. - -"It is not on the daughters' account I must be so," continued Evelyn. -"I think _they_ would like me the better if I seemed rather childish; -there is no affectation of being younger than they are, about either of -them. But it is Mrs Headfort; she associates me, I feel instinctively, -with the wife of the possible future master of Wyverston, who, she -thinks, no doubt, should be as stately as herself." - -"I only hope she _does_ associate with you that personage," said -Philippa, brightly; "it would certainly incline us to like her all the -better. I think," she went on thoughtfully, "there is something -beautiful and elevating in that sort of regard for one's family, if not -carried too far. Some people call it only an extended form of -selfishness, but at least it is not a low kind. And, after all, doing -one's best for those nearest us is not selfishness; it is simply right." - -"There is something almost beautiful about Mrs Headfort herself," said -Evelyn, "though there is something wanting, too, in her face. It is a -little hard, and yet certainly not unfeeling; she has evidently _felt_ -tremendously." - -"But troubles do harden some people," said Philippa, "though often more -on the surface than lower down. They get afraid of ever loosening their -armour, as it were, for fear of breaking down." - -"How wise you are, Phil!" said Evelyn, admiringly. "I never thought of -things in that way when I was your age. I shouldn't wonder," she went -on, reflectively, as if she had made a great discovery, "if it were -partly Mrs Headfort's hair that makes her look hard. It is quite dark, -did I tell you? And when people get old, I think grey or white hair is -so much prettier. I do hope mine will get white--mamma's is so nice," -and she put up her hand to her own wavy locks as if to feel if the -desired transformation had already taken place. - -"Now, Evelyn," said Philippa, seriously, "leave off chattering. You may -go to sleep for twenty minutes still; I will undertake to get you -perfectly ready in the time that remains. I have got out nearly -everything you will want, and you are to wear exactly what I have -chosen." - -Evelyn smiled submissively. - -"I must just say one thing, Phil," she began again, "and that is for -your satisfaction. I do believe the Headforts would have been perfectly -aghast if I had come without a maid. And that reminds me--how do you -think you are going to bear it? Will it be endurable?" - -"Much better than endurable," said Philippa, "but I will tell you about -it afterwards. The housekeeper is a dear old woman. And on your side -you must notice everything, to amuse me. I shall want to know all about -the other people staying in the house." - -Then she resolutely turned away, and busied herself afresh with -completing the preparations for her sister's evening toilet. - -At the appointed time came Miss Headfort's tap at the door, and in -response to Evelyn's "come in," the eldest daughter of the house made -her appearance. Philippa looked at her with considerable interest--a -double interest, indeed; she was both curious to have a better view of -Miss Headfort herself, and also most anxious to observe the effect upon -her of the charming personality before her. Mingled with her sisterly -pride in Evelyn, there was now what one may almost call the pride of the -artist in his handiwork, and for both there was good cause. - -Evelyn had left herself entirely to her sister's mercies, and the result -was such that even Felicia Headfort's melancholy eyes lighted up with -pleasure at the sight of her cousin's wife, whose lovely fairness was -shown to great advantage by the pale, blush-rose tint of her dress. Her -naturally beautiful hair owed much also to Philippa's careful -manipulation, all the more deft and clever in that there was not the -slightest appearance of studied art about it--the little bow of pink -velvet to match her dress really looking as if it had flown down of -itself to nestle among the wavy coils. Evelyn's stock of jewellery was -limited; for this important occasion she wore the one good ornament -which her Duke had, with much unsuspected self-denial, gathered together -enough money to procure for her--a string of fair-sized pearls. - -"My dear," said Miss Headfort, impulsively, "your dress is quite -charming, and you do not look the least tired now. You will quite -bewitch my father, I am sure." Evelyn smiled. - -"How nice you look yourself," she said to her cousin, gently stroking -the sleeve of Felicia's soft, grey velvet bodice, for though far more -than the orthodox term of black attire for the loss of their two -brothers had passed, the Headfort sisters had not yet--if indeed they -ever would discard it--worn anything but half-mourning. - -Miss Headfort looked very handsome in her velvet and rich old lace; -handsomer than Philippa had expected from her former glimpse of her. -And the two figures together harmonised from their very dissimilarity. -The sight was gratifying to the girl's sensitive perceptions of beauty; -but as she stood there in the background in her plain, black dress and -disfiguring spectacles, unnoticed, and in a sense unthought of, even by -her sister, it would be untrue to human nature, to girl nature -especially, to say that no shadow of mortification passed over her as -she again realised, and this time more fully than hitherto, the abnormal -position she had placed herself in. - -But almost simultaneously her vigorous resolution of character, greatly -assisted in the present case by her vivid sense of humour, reasserted -itself. There was a considerable amount of triumph, too, in the success -of her plan. - -"I do believe," she thought, "that I shall be able to carry it through -perfectly to the--no, I won't say `bitter end'--but till the curtain -drops for ever, I hope, for I am quite sure I shall have had enough of -my role by then, as `Phillis Ray, lady's-maid.' Though but for her, -goodness only knows what Mrs Marmaduke Headfort would have been looking -like at the present moment--as to her headgear above all!" - -A glance of affectionate gratitude from Evelyn as she followed her -conductress out of the room, added to Philippa's self-congratulation. -Still more so, a word or two from Miss Headfort which caught her ears -as, suddenly discovering that her sister's fan was still reposing on the -dressing-table, she ran after her with it, a few steps down the -passage--"very clever maid yours seems to be; she must--" But the rest -of the sentence was deferred, as Evelyn turned to take the fan held out -to her. - -"Poor Phil," thought Mrs Marmaduke, as she entered the drawing-room, -with a curious mingling of pride in her sister, and regret almost -amounting to irritation at the state of things she had brought about, "I -really can't bear to think of her up there alone! For I do feel as if -it were all going to be very nice, and that, but for her, I could really -enjoy myself. So I must just try not to think of her for the time. I -am sure it is what she would wish." - -And acting on this comfortable determination, she was able to respond -with unembarrassed graciousness to the cordial, though somewhat formal, -greeting of her host, who came forward to meet them as soon as he caught -sight of his elder daughter's entrance into the room. - -And, as Felicia had predicted, the charm of Evelyn's half-appealing yet -dignified manner, added to her extreme prettiness, did its work. From -that moment the old man's subjugation was complete. - -That it was so, was from the first a source of satisfaction to his wife -and daughters. For they were not only good, high-principled women--they -were personally unselfish, and superior to all petty, feminine -jealousies, and with much latent tenderness of nature, unsuspected by -those who only judged them by the surface stiffness of manner. - -Christine, the second Miss Headfort, though some years younger than her -sister, scarcely appeared so. She was less handsome in features, but so -much brighter in complexion and colouring that at first sight she was -the most striking; but in spite of Wyverston Manor and its traditions, -there was a touch of the "advanced woman" about her, which showed itself -unpleasingly in a rather obtrusive "superiority" to her dress and -general appearance. - -"I am plain-looking," she was wont to inform her friends, with a certain -pride, "and no longer young, and I am not going to pretend to be -otherwise. And I am splendidly strong, and intend to keep my health at -all costs, so I do not care in the least about my complexion or my -figure. I go out in all weathers, and ignore the existence of whalebone -and steel." - -But she was a very agreeable woman, nevertheless--her bark infinitely -worse than her bite--full of real kindness of heart. And if a trifle -dictatorial in her way of showing this, and perhaps irritatingly -convinced that a Miss Headfort of Wyverston could "do no wrong," it was -easy to forgive and even forget those foibles in one so ready to put -herself aside whenever called upon to do so for the sake of others; so -genuinely compassionate to the suffering or oppressed. She loved all -animals, and was loved by them in return; she would have loved little -children had she known more about them; thus with her, too, Evelyn's -fragile and almost childlike appearance only prepossessed her in the -young wife's favour. - -CHAPTER EIGHT. - -A MORNING RAMBLE. - -The party this evening was not a very large one; still, a comparatively -small number of people is enough to be somewhat confusing to a -new-comer, to whom they are all absolute strangers. More especially -when the new-comer in question is in such a position as was Evelyn -Headfort on this occasion in the Wyverston drawing-room, where, as a -recognised member of the family, to whom honour was due, it behoved her -host and hostess to introduce with considerable formality all the other -guests. - -To all appearance she stood this little ordeal well, considerably to -Mrs Headfort's satisfaction. - -"Though she looks so young," thought the elder woman, "she has plenty of -self-possession as well as charming manners." - -But inwardly Evelyn had been feeling considerable trepidation, and it -was not without some relief that she found herself and the man allotted -to her safely on their way to the dining-room. _His_ name her memory -had retained, though she was in a state of mystification as to those of -most of the others. She glanced up at her cavalier. She was not -peculiarly small, but he seemed to tower above her, and had to bend his -head to catch some little commonplace remark which she felt it due to -herself to volunteer, "for fear," as she afterwards confessed to -Philippa, "he should have thought me shy." - -"Certainly," was the reply; "quite so," but that was all, and Evelyn's -little feeler, which she had sent out in hopes of its breaking the ice, -had no effect beyond that of making her wish she had left the sentence -unsaid. - -Seated at table, however, where she found herself, to her alarm, at her -host's left hand, she hazarded a second observation--anything, the -silliest speech in the world was better than for her new relations to -think her in any sense unequal to the occasion. - -"I beg your pardon," said Mr Gresham, for such was his name; and as he -bent slightly towards her, she was struck for the first time by his -really remarkable good looks, enhanced by a gentleness of expression -which tended to reassure her. She laughed and coloured slightly as she -repeated her very commonplace, little observation. - -"I was only saying that it feels ever so much colder here than farther -south!" she said. - -"You've come from the south," he responded, with some appearance of -interest. "Have you travelled f r to-day?" - -"Oh, no, not really very far," she replied. "After all, one can't -travel very far in England; but any cross-country journey makes you feel -as if you had--it wastes so much time, though we fitted in our trains -pretty well." - -"Is your husband with you?" her companion rejoined, in reality for the -sake of drawing her out, for he knew perfectly well that Duke Headfort -was still in India, and likely to be there for some time. For, as the -housekeeper had mentioned to Philippa, the elder Mr Gresham was a very -frequent visitor at Wyverston, and intimately acquainted with the ins -and outs of the Headfort family affairs. - -Evelyn started slightly. - -"I shouldn't have said `we,'" she thought to herself. "Oh, no," she -said, aloud, "I'm quite alone here, and it is my first visit to this -part of the country. It is considered very--well, I don't exactly know -what to say--not picturesque, I suppose, but not commonplace?" - -"Far from commonplace. It is bleak in some directions--bleak and bare; -but the moors are very fine, and at some seasons their colouring is -wonderful. And the stretch of the Wildering Hills to the west is very -imposing. You will think it so, I have no doubt, as you come from--" He -stopped, and went on again: - -"Did I not understand you to say that you live in a flat country?" - -"Well, yes," said Evelyn, though she did not remember having volunteered -any information of the kind. "---shire _is_ flat, certainly, and where -we live there is no beauty except good trees. My sister," she -continued, feeling as if she were talking very inanely, and with a -nervous dread of letting the conversation drop, "was staying lately in -Westshire. She was delighted with it. She said part of the route -coming back was as pretty as--as Switzerland."--"How idiotic that -sounds!" she said to herself. - -But her companion appeared rather to appreciate her remarks. - -"Westshire," he repeated. "Yes, some parts of Westshire are charmingly -picturesque. May I ask what part of the country your sister was staying -in?" - -"I don't know what part it was that she thought so pretty," said Evelyn, -gratified by his interest. "The place she was staying at was Dorriford. -It belongs to the Lermonts--cousins of ours." - -"Oh, indeed," said Mr Gresham, thawing more and more; "I know -Dorriford--at least I was there the other day. I drove over with some -friends in the neighbourhood. Your sister's name is?" and he glanced at -her questioningly. - -"Raynsworth," said Evelyn, quickly. - -"Exactly," rejoined her companion. "I remember her perfectly. But you -are not like each other--Strikingly unlike, even; for Miss Raynsworth is -dark--dark and tall. I remember." - -An appalling misgiving seized Evelyn. He "remembered her perfectly;" -perhaps, by no means improbably, suggested her sisterly pride, he had -been struck by Philippa's somewhat uncommon style of beauty. Why, in -heaven's name, had she drawn the conversation round to Philippa at all, -the very last topic she should have chosen to talk about while at -Wyverston? And fearful lest Mr Gresham's watchful eyes should detect -the least trace of confusion, she forced herself to smile and to say -lightly: - -"What a coincidence! I must remember to mention it to my sister when I -go home." Then, somewhat at random, she plunged suddenly into some of -her Indian reminiscences--a subject she usually avoided as hackneyed and -commonplace. - -Mr Gresham seemed somewhat perplexed, though he listened courteously, -but without his former interest. - -"I have never been in India," he said, with a touch of languor, "and I -don't think I want to go. Were you born there? I've often noticed that -people who were born there have a sort of liking for the place," as if -the great empire of the east were some insignificant village. - -"Oh, no," said Evelyn, "we are all quite English, and I don't think I do -like India. I am not very fond of travelling. I fear I am the lazy one -of the family." - -"Your sister certainly struck me as very vigorous," began Mr Gresham -again; "the Lermonts were talking of wonderful expeditions they had been -making while she was with them." - -"Oh, why did I say I had a sister," thought Evelyn, in desperation, "and -why did I ever give in to this mad escapade of Philippa's? I feel -certain it is going to land us in some dreadful hobble," and -unconsciously to herself her expression grew so tragic that Mr Gresham -began to wonder what in the world was the matter. - -Just then, to Evelyn's enormous relief, came a happy interruption. A -voice from the opposite side of the table, which was not a very wide -one, addressed her by name. - -Evelyn looked up in surprise, forgetting for the moment that as all the -guests had been introduced to her, the owner of the voice had every -reason to know who she was. - -"I hope, Mrs Headfort," he said, "that my dog did not really frighten -you to-day? He is very demonstratively affectionate when he takes a -fancy, and he had made great friends with--with your maid." - -"`Out of the frying-pan into the fire,'" thought the unfortunate Evelyn; -"this time I must brave it out." - -"Is your dog a dachs?" she said, quickly. "Oh, yes, I remember seeing -him; he tried to jump into the carriage, but I wasn't really frightened, -only startled for a moment. Is he with you here? You must introduce -him formally, if so. I love dachshunds--our favourite dog was a dachs. -He died--some years ago. We can hardly bear to talk of it even now." - -A perplexed look stole over Michael Gresham's face at her words. Was he -dreaming? or going through one of those strange experiences familiar to -us all, in which it seems as if we were living for a second time through -some event, or train of events, often of the most trivial, which has -already happened? - -No; the conviction he now felt that words almost similar to those Mrs -Headfort had just uttered had quite recently been addressed to him, was -too strong, too unmistakable to have anything of fancy about it. - -"By Jove," he thought, "it was the girl in the railway carriage--her -maid--who told me the very same thing about a dachshund she had had. I -can't make it out. They didn't seem to be talking like mistress and -maid when Solomon jumped at them, though I didn't hear clearly what they -were saying. There was something inconsistent about the girl from the -first. Well, it's no business of mine." Then, conscious that Evelyn's -eyes were still directed towards him, he threw off his hesitation and -answered lightly: - -"I hope the association will not be too painful to prevent your making -friends with my Solomon. Not that I don't sympathise in the loss of a -dog--it's a terrible thing." - -"Don't let my cousin get on to dogs, Mrs Headfort, his own dogs -especially," interrupted the elder Gresham; "he'll go on for hours about -that Solomon of his, I warn you." - -Evelyn smiled gently. In her heart she was not very devoted to dogs. -Bonny and Vanda were much more adorable pets. Nor was she anxious in -any way to grow more familiar with the dachshund's master. - -"He must be rather a stupid young man," she thought, as she glanced -across the table at Michael's somewhat rugged face. "His cousin -evidently thinks him so, and all the better for us if he is not -observant. And, oh! how plain-looking he is compared to this one!" - -For the moment, however, she had not much opportunity of admiring her -neighbour's clear-cut features. For her host, having done his duty so -far by the elderly dowager on his right hand, now felt free to turn his -attention to his cousin's pretty young wife. A kindly question or two -about her "Duke" and his doings--even more, some allusion to the -incomparable Bonny, set Evelyn perfectly at her ease. The conversation -which ensued, though of the liveliest interest to herself and not -without charm for the squire himself, naturally left her orthodox -companion somewhat out in the cold. For on his other side was placed a -certain Miss Worthing, a person whom he would have characterised as a -"bread-and-butter miss," whose timid attempt at breaking the silence met -with but faint success, for all the answers that Mr Gresham -condescended to make to her were monosyllabic and discouraging in the -extreme. - -It was not this first evening that young Mrs Headfort discovered how -much honour had been done her by her companion's animation, though as -she rose to follow in the file of women on their way to the -drawing-room, it did strike her that Mr Gresham's face looked bored in -the extreme. - -"How I do wish he could know Philippa and she him!" she thought. "She -would be just the person to shake him out of that silent _hauteur_, and -I do believe he was struck by her at Dorriford. If only she were here -in her proper character!" - -The rest of the evening seemed somewhat long. Evelyn was beginning to -feel very tired, for she had really exerted herself to the utmost. -Fortunately it was not the Wyverston habit to keep late hours, and it -was with a feeling of inexpressible relief that she accepted Felicia's -hint that she must not hesitate to say good-night, even before the two -or three guests from the neighbourhood had taken their departure. - -"They will be going immediately," Miss Headfort added; "and," on second -thoughts, "if you like to come away quietly with me, I will explain it -to mamma afterwards, and say good-night for you." - -Evelyn thankfully took advantage of this offer, but begged her cousin to -let her go up-stairs alone. - -"I can find my way quite well, and I know I shall have everything I want -in my room." - -"Very well," said Felicia, kindly. "I think I can trust your maid, from -what you say of her, to look after you properly. And our dear old -Shepton really does love to make people comfortable, especially if they -are relations." - -Nothing could have been more gratifying. And how delightful not to have -to wait till she could write home for sympathy in her satisfaction! - -"Oh, Phil," she exclaimed, as she carefully shut the door of her room -where her sister was already awaiting her. "Oh, Phil, darling, I am -awfully sleepy, I can scarcely keep my eyes open, but I am longing to -tell you how well I have got on. Everything has been as nice as -possible." - -"I am so glad," said Philippa, warmly. "But, Evelyn dear, you must not -talk to-night. Even I am feeling very tired. I believe I had fallen -asleep while I was sitting here waiting for you." - -And Philippa, who could be resolute in little things as well as in big, -carried her point. Half an hour later both sisters were in bed and -asleep, and though Philippa did not know it, her care of Evelyn had -saved herself from a disturbed and perhaps sleepless night. For Mrs -Headfort could certainly not have narrated the events of the evening in -any detail without repeating her conversation with both the Greshams, -and thereby awakening much graver anxiety in Philippa's mind than what -she had felt herself. - -As it was, Philippa slept soundly, her dreams being no more than an -amusing jumble of the experiences of the day before. When she awoke, it -was from a peculiarly absurd one, in which Solomon was seated at the end -of the housekeeper's table, doing the honour in Mrs Shepton's place, -with Philippa's own spectacles on his nose, assuring her that his master -was the same Mr Gresham whom she had met at Dorriford, and that it was -only the fact of his travelling second-class which had made her imagine -him less good-looking than before. - -But though her dreams had been thus concerned with the realities of the -preceding day, Miss Raynsworth felt strangely confused when she first -awoke. It was daylight, though not yet very clear, for the morning was -cloudy--so cloudy, indeed, that in most parts of the country one would -have imagined it must be raining. The girl's eyes strayed round the -little room, and for a moment or two she could not imagine where she -was. Gradually things took shape in her memory, and she half started up -in affright. - -"It must be late," she thought, "and of all things I must be ready early -in the morning." - -But her fears were exaggerated; she took her watch to the window and -found that it was only half-past six. There was plenty of time to get -ready for her own breakfast at eight, and to carry in Evelyn's early cup -of tea. - -She peeped cautiously through the door of her sister's room, as soon as -she was dressed, and was pleased to see her still sleeping peacefully. - -"She must not get up to breakfast if she is very tired," thought -Philippa. "Mrs Shepton was sure they would not mind her staying in -bed, especially this first morning. But if I am to judge her by myself, -I rather think she will wake feeling quite rested and invigorated; the -air here must be wonderfully bracing." - -She had returned to her own little room, and sat down beside the window -which she had already thrown open. It was not cold, though a fresh -breeze, to Philippa's fancy laden with the scents of the surrounding -moors, blew on her face gently. - -"Only a quarter past seven," she said to herself. "I know what I'll do. -I will go down-stairs and have a little run, or walk, I suppose--it -would never do for a maid to be seen running--before the breakfast-bell -rings. I can keep away from the front of the house, for fear of -possibly meeting any one who might notice me." With the impulsiveness -so curiously mingled with her habit of careful consideration, this was -no sooner said than done. Two minutes later the slight, black-clad -figure of young Mrs Headfort's maid might have been seen making its way -through some of the paths thickly strewn with fir "needles," among the -woods, which at one side of the house almost extended to the walls. - -"Yes," she thought. "It is quite charming here, though perhaps in time -one would get tired of the monotony of these fir-trees. If only I were -free, and not obliged to be in to breakfast till half-past nine, how I -would enjoy a rush across the moor beyond! I do hope I shall have some -chance of a solitary ramble now and then while I am here. For one thing -I will _not_ do, and that is, go out walks with the other ladies' maids -who are staying in the house, who, ten to one, would be inviting the -valets to accompany them. All I should want would be a--" - -At that instant, as if in reply to her uncompleted sentence, came the -rush and scamper of a long-bodied, four-footed creature across the -crackly ground. - -"Solomon!" exclaimed Philippa, with mingled joy and dismay. "My dear -boy, where have you come from? And how did you know I was here?" for -that he did recognise her and was full of delight at the meeting, was -only too evident! He jumped up on her, he pawed her, he snuffed her, -ending by trotting off a few paces and looking back wistfully with -unmistakable invitation in his affectionate eyes. - -Half thoughtlessly Philippa followed him. - -"Where do you want to go to?" she said, laughingly. "Do you think I -don't know the way back to the house?--And, by-the-by, I must be quick," -she added, "or I shall be too late for breakfast." - -But as this misgiving struck her she came to a sudden standstill. - -CHAPTER NINE. - -MINGLED FEELINGS. - -For there before her, as might most naturally have been expected, stood -Solomon's master, Mr Gresham the younger. He was clad in a rough -shooting-suit, which, even in that moment of annoyance, struck Philippa -as becoming him better than his more civilised attire of the day before. - -"He is ugly," she thought, "but far from insignificant. That square, -sturdy sort of figure has something manly about it," and as at that -moment a slight involuntary smile parted his lips, and she caught sight -of two rows of perfect teeth, another item in his favour was added to -her estimate of the outer man of Michael Gresham. - -So swiftly, however, did these impressions pass through her, that almost -before she realised them she felt conscious of the vivid colour rushing -to her face. - -What was he smiling at?--or rather, what was he staring at, now that the -smile had faded? Was there anything extraordinary in her appearance? -Mechanically she raised her hand to her hair, which had indeed got blown -out of the prim neatness which was an important part of her present -personification, but it was not the touch of the truant locks which -startled her fingers as they touched her face. - -"Oh, dear," she ejaculated, "my spectacles!" For in the exuberance of -her enjoyment of the fresh morning air, and her sense of momentary -freedom from notice, she had drawn them off and slipped them into her -pocket. - -It was too late now to undo the mischief, if any, that had been done by -their absence. Drawing herself together she glanced up almost defiantly -at the young man standing motionless before her, and when she caught -sight of the expression of his face, which from that of surprise had -darkened into gravity, almost approaching disapproval, it was all she -could do to keep silent. - -"What business is it of yours whether I wear spectacles or not? What -have you to do with me in any possible way, I should like to know?" were -the words she would have given worlds to utter in the excess of her -annoyance at this new _contretemps_, heightened by her disgust of -herself for the blushes which still remained in angry glow upon her -cheeks. - -Not the least discomposed of the trio was poor Solomon. In his doggy -way he had meant to act the friendly part of reintroducing to each other -the two who had seemed not uncongenial companions the day before, and -now, though no words had passed the lips of either his dearly beloved -master or the new and charming friend who had made him so comfortable in -the train, he was conscious that something was amiss--very much amiss, -indeed. He stood there glancing from one to the other almost, as -Philippa afterwards thought to herself, as if there had been tears in -his eyes, so profound was his look of distress and mortification. She -was on the point of stooping to restore his spirits by a little caress-- -she could not resist wishing to do so--when with a sudden gruff "Come -along, Solomon," the young man turned on his heel, slightly raising his -cap as he did so, and strode off in another direction. - -"I must go, I'm very sorry, but I _must_ go! I don't know what's making -him so cross this morning!" said Solomon's wistful gaze, as obediently, -but most dejectedly, he trotted away--even his tail a different member -of society from what it had been a few moments previously. - -"Horrid, detestable man," thought Philippa to herself, feeling more than -half inclined to cry, partly from anger, partly from anxiety, a good -deal from pity for Solomon. - -She replaced the unlucky spectacles and soberly made her way back to the -house, her little fit of elation completely over, feeling, indeed, as if -all the mischievous imps in creation had conspired to thwart and -embarrass her. To her relief, the being late for breakfast was not -added to her other misfortunes, for by the big stable-clock, which she -glanced at as she hurried in, she saw that it still wanted ten minutes -to the hour, and when the bell rang she was ready to leave her room and -come down-stairs in orthodox propriety. - -Mrs Shepton welcomed her with a kindly "Good-morning," placing her as -near herself as was compatible with the etiquette of precedence so -vigorously exacted in such formal society. - -The meal passed in silence, for this was one of the rules at Wyverston -Manor--talking only being allowed at certain repasts. And here it may -be as well to say that the girl's experiences of the manners and customs -of the servants'-hall fell short of what her imagination had pictured. -Thanks to Mrs Shepton's good management, the household was really to a -great extent a model one, and so far at least as the upper servants were -concerned, Philippa came across nothing of a coarse or jarring nature. -The extreme reserve of her own manner she did not attempt to relax, for -she thought she saw that the housekeeper approved of it, though she -endeavoured to temper it by gentleness and courtesy on all occasions. - -"Do tell me," she said, to Mrs Shepton, a day or two after her arrival, -"do you like the way I behave? I was never in the same position -before--among a number of others, you know, in a large house like this. -There is no need for me to get intimate with any one, is there? Being -here only for such a short time; and yet I would not like to seem to -hold myself aloof in any stiff and unusual way." - -Mrs Shepton's own voice had a trifle of stiffness in it as she replied: - -"You have no need, my dear, to be either familiar or stand-off; our -upper servants are all of a superior class, and, indeed, the younger -ones too are most respectably connected." - -Philippa in an instant saw her mistake. - -"Oh, pray," she said, eagerly, "pray don't think I was hinting at -anything of that kind. I mean,"--and she could not help reddening as -she spoke--"any sort of `giving myself airs' as it is called. I really -want your advice and opinion as to my behaviour." - -The housekeeper softened in a moment. - -"Any one could see," she said, "that you have been brought up in a -superior way. It is not giving yourself airs to be what you have -naturally come to be, and no one of this house will like you the less -for the advantages it's plain you've had--" She hesitated and stopped. -The good woman was as little of a gossip as it was possible for one in -her position to be, but she had begun to look for some kind of -confidence on the young girl's part, some allusion to her home and -childhood, to her parents and bringing up, in return for what she -herself had already related to "Phillis Ray" of her own past history. -For something about Philippa had almost at once appealed to her -sympathy, and this want of response was just a trifle disappointing. -Mrs Shepton glanced at her again. Philippa's eyes were cast down; -indeed, the spectacles at all times made it rather difficult to judge of -their expression. More than once the housekeeper had been on the point -of begging her to lay them aside for a little, that she might see "how -she looked without them." Just now, however, it was impossible not to -notice by her whole attitude and bearing that she was somewhat anxious -and depressed, and the elder woman's kind heart was touched; there might -be reasons why the girl _could_ not tell her more. - -"I think, perhaps," she went on after the little pause of half -expectation, "as you wish me to speak frankly, that you might join -rather more in the conversation--at supper especially. There's that -maid of Mrs Worthing's--I don't know her well, she's never been here -before--has not looked at you very pleasantly sometimes, and it doesn't -do in this world to make enemies if you can help it." - -Philippa started slightly. - -"Do you mean the one they call Miss Bailey?" she said. "I really have -scarcely noticed her. I--" - -"That's just it," interrupted Mrs Shepton; "not being noticed offends -some people more than anything you could say to them." - -Philippa looked grave. - -"Thank you for warning me," she said. "I will try to be more am--more -friendly to Miss Bailey in future." - -But unfortunately the mischief was already done. - -"Mrs Shepton," Philippa began again, after a moment's pause, lifting -her head impulsively, "Mrs Shepton, I know what you are thinking--that -I might tell you more about myself, and I cannot tell you how much I -wish I could. But there are reasons which make it quite impossible--I -can tell you one of them--it would displease my--Mrs Marmaduke, -exceedingly, if I explained to you how I came to enter her service." - -"Say no more, my dear," interposed the housekeeper, cordially. "Saying -what you have shows your confidence in me, and that is enough. I have -seen too much of life, and in my position one comes across stranger -stories than you would believe, not to know that the most candid and -straightforward people are sometimes forced, by no fault of their own, -into positions where they can't be outspoken." - -"Yes," said Philippa, feeling rather guilty, though to the housekeeper -her tone only sounded sad, "yes; that must be the case sometimes. I-- -honestly, I may say for myself that I am naturally _very_ frank. I -would give anything at the present moment, dear Mrs Shepton, to tell -you all about myself and my friends." She raised her charming eyes to -the kind woman's face--charming they were, and not only so in respect of -their undeniable beauty, but also, and in perhaps still greater measure, -from their candid and true expression. And in spite of the intervening -spectacles, Mrs Shepton read them aright. - -"I will not distrust her in any way," she thought, "whether I ever come -to understand her or not.--There is just one thing I should like to -say," she began again, after a little pause, "something I should like -you to promise me--if you are in any trouble or difficulty while you are -here, something, perhaps, that you would not like to worry your lady -about, don't be afraid of telling me. I will give you the best advice I -can." - -"Thank you," said Philippa, heartily. "I will certainly promise you -what you so kindly ask, and I suppose it is possible, with my being so -inexperienced, that I might make mistakes. But you don't think, I -hope," she continued, with a touch of anxiety, "that Mrs Worthing's -maid has taken a dislike to me? I should not like to get anybody's -ill-will." - -That she had some reason for fear was evident, and it added to the -housekeeper's sympathy for her, little as she could understand it. - -Her reply was not altogether reassuring; she was too honest to make it -so. - -"`Ill-will' is a strong word," she said, "but I can't say that I think -Miss Bailey likes you; that was why I gave you the little warning about -seeming so stand-off," "I will be very careful," said Philippa. - -And as the days went on, Miss Raynsworth felt more and more glad to have -had this conversation with the housekeeper, for, as she realised -increasingly the complications to which by her rash action she was -exposing herself and her sister, she grew conscious of many little -awkwardnesses which she had never thought of or in the least foreseen, -and which might have aroused the suspicion of a commoner-minded woman -than the good old housekeeper. Among these was the fact of her -apparently receiving no letters, the importance of which she perhaps -exaggerated, from Bailey's drawing attention to it once or twice when -the servants'-hall correspondence was distributed at table. In reality -the letters she had received, under cover to Evelyn, had enormously -added to her anxiety and caused her the greatest distress--distress -which was all the more hard to bear as she had to endure it alone, for -her parents charged her on no account to upset Evelyn, under the -circumstances of her present surroundings especially, by telling her of -their very grave displeasure. - -"I cannot conceive," wrote her mother, "how you ventured to do such a -thing, so utterly to set at nought all your father and I _could_ not but -feel at a daughter of ours placing herself in such a position. Your -father was on the point at first of setting off, at all costs, to bring -you back again, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that I -persuaded him to give up doing so, by reminding him on whom the `costs' -in this case would fall--I mean poor Evelyn and her husband. Such an -_esclandre_ would certainly have been utterly fatal to the Headforts -thinking well of Duke's wife or her family. We are very annoyed with -Evelyn herself, too, for not _insisting_ on your returning the moment -she found you were in the train, and to prevent her doing so you must -have made an unjustifiable use of your greater strength of character and -determination to carry out your own way. I shall say as little as -possible to your sister till you are both home again. I am counting -every day--indeed every hour, till this visit is over, and I only pray -that no terribly disastrous consequences may follow on what you have -done." - -It _was_ hard to bear, feeling conscious, as she did, that at least -three-fourths of her motives had been purely unselfish, and only now did -Philippa allow to herself that a certain love of adventure--a touch of -the reckless impulsiveness and defiance of conventionality which Maida -Lermont, though vaguely, had been conscious of in her young cousin--only -now did it dawn upon the girl that these less worthy incentives had gone -far to make up the remaining balance. - -"I have never meant to be wild or headstrong," she said to herself. "I -have always thought I was almost too practical and unimpulsive. I -planned all this so carefully and even cautiously. I never dreamt of -papa and mamma taking it up so severely; I don't think they ever have -been really angry with me before in my life. And after all," with a -touch of half-humorous defiance, as she dashed away the tears which she -dared not indulge in, for fear of her sister's discovering them, "after -all, I do _not_ know what Evelyn would have done without me. I am -perfectly certain she would not have got on so well; most assuredly she -would not have _looked_ as she has done!" - -For Philippa's rule over her sister had been a very stringent one. Mrs -Marmaduke Headfort was not allowed to overtire herself by walking too -far or driving too long, by sitting up too late, or spasmodically -getting up too early, all of which vagaries she was addicted to when her -own mistress. Her tonic was never forgotten, nor her stated hours of -resting curtailed. In consequence of all these precautions, Evelyn -looked and felt wonderfully invigorated. The credit of this was -attributed by her well-pleased hosts, and in part by herself, to the -bracing air of Wyverston, and Philippa was too unselfish and generous to -feel annoyed at this, though she secretly hugged herself with -satisfaction as to what she knew had been her own share in this good -state of things. - -"I don't think mamma _can_ be so vexed with me when I tell her about -it," she thought. "She does know that Evelyn is not fit to take care of -herself." - -There was really, for the moment, no crumpled rose-leaf in young Mrs -Headfort's path. To her facile nature, in spite of her capacity for -"fussing," it came easy to accept things as she found them. Long before -the first week was at an end she had got used to the anomalous position -in which her sister, and, to a certain extent through her sister, she -herself were placed. Beyond this, she even allowed herself the -gratification of claiming Philippa's admiration for her strong-minded -behaviour. - -"I really think I have managed beautifully," she said. "I have not -worried about you at all, Phil, and I have determined not to be homesick -for Bonny and Vanda, though," with a sudden realisation of what she owed -to her sister, "I'm quite sure my good spirits are principally owing to -your being here." - -And Philippa felt rewarded. - -By this time Miss Raynsworth had begun to breathe more freely. No -further _contretemps_ had as yet occurred. She had been most careful to -keep out of the way of the guests in the house, more especially the two -Greshams, for, after hearing from Evelyn of her conversation on the -night of her arrival with the elder of the cousins, she could no longer -deceive herself as to his identity with the handsome, silent man whose -personality had somehow impressed her at Dorriford, and she was even -more afraid of coming across _him_ than of again meeting Solomon's -master. - -To poor Solomon himself she had more than once been obliged to be -positively cruel, for whenever she caught sight of his tan-coloured -person she was seized with terror lest her other travelling companion -should be near at hand. In those days it is to be feared that the -dachshund's belief in the stability of woman's friendship received some -severe shocks. One afternoon in particular he happened to run against -Miss Raynsworth in one of the back passages not far from Mrs Shepton's -room, and the girl, thinking herself for once safe from dangerous -observation, stooped down and patted him affectionately. No sooner had -she done so than she bitterly regretted it, for coming towards her, but -a few paces off, she descried his master's familiar figure. The dog by -this time was in a state of frantic delight; at all costs she must get -rid of him. - -"Down, down," she said, in a cruelly repressive tone, which poor Solomon -would have understood even without the stern "Come here, sir," from -Michael Gresham which followed; and as she hurried along the passage she -could not resist glancing back over her shoulder in pity for her -four-footed admirer. Mr Gresham was not to be seen--what had become of -him?--but Solomon was sitting on the mat outside the housekeeper's room, -looking profoundly miserable and feeling doubly deserted--by his master -as well as by his friend. For Michael had shut the door in the dog's -face. - -"Poor old boy," thought Philippa. "I wonder why he has settled himself -there." - -For she knew that Mrs Shepton was not specially addicted to dogs. She -liked them, she said, in "their proper place;" in other words, when they -were entirely out of her sight and with no opportunity of jumping on -sofas, eating rugs, or going to sleep on her best eiderdown quilts. - -CHAPTER TEN. - -"MERLE-IN-THE-WOLD." - -Miss Raynsworth would have been considerably surprised had she known the -reason of Solomon's encampment in his present quarters. - -"I have left my dog outside," his master was at that moment saying to -the housekeeper, "so I hope you'll be pleased with me, `Mrs Shepton, -ma'am!'" using the rather absurd title which had clung to his old friend -since the days when she had been his nurse. - -Mrs Shepton smiled indulgently. "Now, Master Michael, what would any -one think to hear you still speaking to me like that?" she said, -forgetting that her own way of addressing the young man was now equally -inappropriate, "and I don't like you to think that I would be unkind to -a poor dumb creature, especially one you are fond of. Dogs are all very -well in their proper place! But when it comes to finding one in a young -gentleman's bed with its head on the pillow and the clothes tucked under -its shin, as I have seen you have Toby many and many a time in the old -days at Allerton--well, no, I can't say but what that was going too -far." - -Michael Gresham laughed. - -"I remember," he said, "especially once when Bernie and I stole one of -old Aunt Serena's caps--a nightcap I suppose it must have been--and tied -it neatly on to Toby's head with the frills sticking out beautifully all -round." - -"I don't remember Master _Bernard_ ever doing anything of the kind," -said Mrs Shepton, with a marked accent on the name. "If there was ever -any mischief afoot, it wasn't often it had to be laid at _his_ door." - -"Not _often_, perhaps," said Michael, "though I wouldn't say never. If -there was a scrape to be got into, it was, I allow, pretty sure to be I -who found myself in it. But we stuck to each other very faithfully in -those days. Poor old Bernie!" and he gave a little sigh. "After all, -it isn't his fault if all the plums have fallen to his share, and I'm -sure I don't grudge them to him, though I would not object to a few for -myself sometimes." - -A shade of distress crossed Mrs Shepton's face. - -"They will come, my dear," she said, affectionately patting the young -man's hand. "Never fear; they will come, all in good time, and none the -less sweet that you have had to wait for them, and work for them too." - -"Oh, bless you, don't think I mind the working," he said, lightly. -"Life would be unbearable without it. Don't think I was grumbling, Mrs -Shepton, ma'am, but," and he rose to his feet, as an unmistakable sound -of scratching and whining on the other side of the door made itself -heard, "some one _is_ grumbling, and that's Solomon. May I let him in?" - -"Of course, dearie; I'll let him in myself. No," as the young man was -moving towards the door, "let me do it; I should like him to see I was -friendly." - -In another moment Solomon was inside, pawing and jumping on the -housekeeper, who did her best to hide any sign of apprehension for her -black silk skirt. "You see he is fond of me," she said, with a touch of -rather tremulous triumph in her tone. - -"Moderately so," Mr Gresham replied, eyeing the pair with considerable -amusement, "but not as fond of you as he is of a young person who -travelled down in our carriage the other day--third class--I always come -third, you know. By-the-by, I wanted to ask you about her. She is Mrs -Marmaduke Headfort's maid, I believe." Mrs Shepton looked considerably -surprised. - -"Yes, sir?" she said, interrogatively. - -"Now, don't be stupid," said Michael, with some irritation. "You know -very well I'm not likely to begin gossiping! But there is something -unusual about this girl, and I cannot help feeling sorry for her. I had -meant to speak of her to you before. What do you think of her?" - -The housekeeper's brow had cleared, but now a look of perplexity came -over her face. - -"To tell you the truth, Master Michael, I really don't know," she said. -"I wouldn't say as much to any one but yourself, and I would not for -worlds betray her confidence--" - -"Has she given you her confidence, then?" interrupted the young man. - -"She has and she hasn't! She has allowed that there is something about -her present position that she cannot explain, and as far as things here -go she has put herself in my hands, saying how inexperienced she is, and -begging me to advise her if I see it necessary. But beyond that, I know -no more than you do. Perhaps,"--with a touch of curiosity--"not as -much, if you entered into conversation with her on the journey?" -Michael laughed slightly. - -"Oh, dear, no," he said, "she would have snubbed me at once if I had -said anything but the merest commonplace--and even that was only brought -about by Solomon's making such friends with her, which threw her a -little off her dignity once or twice. She is a _lady_, nurse, I am -perfectly certain of it, and that is why I am so sorry for her. The -impression she made upon me," he continued, slowly, "was that she is -acting a part." Mrs Shepton looked rather startled. - -"I don't like you to say that, Master Michael," she replied, quickly. -"I have felt from the first that I could trust her--and now that I know -her better, and she has, as it were, thrown herself upon me, I couldn't -bear to go back from doing so." - -"You misunderstand me," said Mr Gresham, with some annoyance. "Do you -suppose I think she's a burglar in disguise? People are forced into -seeming what they are not sometimes, by no fault of their own." Almost -her own words to Philippa! The housekeeper in her turn hastened to -exonerate herself. - -"I took up your words wrongly," she said. "I think I feel just as you -do, Master Michael, about the poor girl. I am doing all I can to be a -friend to her." - -"I'm very glad of that," said Michael, heartily. "That was just what I -had in my mind--to ask you to be good to her." - -He spoke with his usual perfect simplicity, and as his old friend -glanced at him she said to herself: "Just the same kind heart as always! -Well, if others don't, there's one that does you justice, and that's -your old nurse, my dear." - -Aloud she said nothing in reply to his last words, and Michael, too, sat -silent. He was stroking Solomon's soft back half absently, and -pondering something in his mind, which the sight of his dachshund had -recalled to his memory. Should he, or should he not say anything to -Mrs Shepton of the curiously similar way in which both mistress and -maid had alluded to a former "Solomon of their own." - -"Have you seen anything of Mrs Marmaduke?" he said at last, -tentatively. - -"Miss Christine brought her in here for a few minutes yesterday," -answered Mrs Shepton. "Of course I had seen her before, several times, -but not to speak to. She is a sweet-looking young lady, very, and so -devoted to her little children. I am very pleased, indeed, that the -family seems to be taking to her so much; Miss Headfort has quite -cheered up over it." - -The tone of her words decided Michael to say no more. He could scarcely -have related the little incident without a suggestion of something not -altogether to the young wife's advantage, though in what way he himself -would have been utterly at a loss to define. And the faintest -suggestion of such a kind would have been most unfair to young Mrs -Headfort, for if her maid had a secret--a secret of which she herself -even was cognisant, it would be most unjustifiable to lay to the young -lady's account any supposition of underhand dealing or subterfuge. - -"I think she is--Mrs Marmaduke, I mean--a nice little woman, and -certainly very pretty. I should not say she was particularly clever, -but I daresay that doesn't matter much in a woman if her looks are all -right," he said, with a slight superciliousness not lost on his hearer. - -"Now, Master Michael, I am not going to have you beginning in that way," -she said, remonstratingly. "If a young lady is pretty, that's no reason -why she shouldn't have other gifts as well. You would not like me to -say Mr Gresham had nothing but his good looks?" - -Again there was just a shade of bitterness in the young man's voice as -he replied: - -"Nobody could say such a thing of Bernard. He has got--well, what is -there he hasn't got?" - -Michael's old nurse seemed rather nonplussed. - -"It was a stupid remark of mine, Master Michael," she answered. "And I -daresay it will make it no better if I say that whatever Mr Bernard -has, and is, there are some ways in which I could never feel that he -comes up to you." - -"Mrs Shepton, ma'am, you're a silly old woman. I must be going. If I -stay much longer you will be persuading me that my features are the most -regular you have ever seen." - -"Nay, nay, my dear. I know what I mean, though I can't put it in words. -`All is not gold that glitters,'" she added, sententiously. - -The proverb seemed scarcely relevant, but Michael understood the feeling -that suggested the quotation, and there was affection as well as -amusement in the smile with which he looked back at his old friend, as, -followed by Solomon, he left the room. - -The elder Mr Gresham had that day been the subject of discussion in -another quarter as well. He had been almost from the first very -gracious to Evelyn, and this naturally pleased her the more as she -gradually came to see that Mr Gresham did not always give himself much -trouble about those with whom he might be thrown in contact. The -attractiveness of his appearance and the invariable gentleness of his -manner had in themselves an undoubted charm, which often made his -coldness and indifference the more irritating to those who could not -flatter themselves that they had aroused in him the slightest interest -in their persons or their conversation. - -"I do wish you could see him, Phil," Evelyn was saying to her sister at -the very time that Mr Michael Gresham was paying his visit to Mrs -Shepton. "He is really so charming. Felicia and Christine tell me they -have never seen him make friends so quickly, and I think they are very -pleased at it. Every one thinks so much of his opinion." - -"Then it is no wonder if he is a little spoilt," said Philippa. - -"But I don't think he _is_ spoilt," returned Evelyn, eagerly. "He is so -gentle and considerate, such a contrast to his cousin--I never saw such -a `brusque' man as _he_ is; and if it is affectation, he has no right to -be affected! He is so ugly, and of course his position is different in -every way." - -"Then it is no wonder if he is a little spoilt," said Philippa. - -"But I don't think he _is_ spoilt," returned Evelyn, eagerly. "He is so -gentle and considerate, such a contrast to his cousin--I never saw such -a `brusque' man as _he_ is; and if it is affectation, he has no right to -be affected! He is so ugly, and of course his position is different in -every way." - -"I should scarcely think he was really affected," said Philippa; "he is -just rather rough. But certainly," she went on, "the elder cousin is -quite unusually good-looking." - -Evelyn gave a little laugh. - -"What is amusing you?" said Philippa, rather sharply. - -"Oh, nothing," said Evelyn. - -"When people answer `nothing' in that way, it always means something," -said Philippa, sententiously. "You laughed at what I said, and I want -to know why?" - -"I didn't--at least, not exactly. I was only thinking--now don't be -cross--how absurd it is! You admiring Mr Gresham, allowing, at any -rate, that he made some impression upon you--for you are very critical, -you know, Philippa--and he on his side entertaining me, whenever he can -get round to the subject with his appreciation of your beauty and -charms." - -Philippa reddened, and not altogether with gratification. - -"That sort of thing is very common, Evelyn; I don't like it. Besides -which, it is incredible that the man should remember me so distinctly. -We only met for one afternoon, and what chiefly impressed me about him -was his unusual dearth of conversation. It forced me to talk, I -remember--you know the hateful feeling of being _tete-a-tete_ with any -one, and we were _tete-a-tete_ for some little time, in dead silence. -No, Evelyn, he has found out one of your weak points, you unsuspicious -little goose, not your _weakest_, but he couldn't praise up Bonny and -Vanda, as he has never seen them. You shouldn't be so open to -flattery." - -"But, indeed, it isn't flattery," said Evelyn; "he would be incapable of -anything so coarse, and you should have a higher opinion of _my_ taste -and perception too. All he says is in the very nicest way, really -showing that he saw you to be--well, something out of the common, which -you certainly are." - -"All the same," said Philippa, "I wish you would leave off talking about -me while you are here, at all. It is very unwise." - -"I don't think so," said Evelyn. "When I'm talking about you to Mr -Gresham, I feel quite comfortable! I quite forget about you being here, -and think of you as if you were at home. Of course," looking a little -ashamed of herself, "I have said once or twice: `How I do wish she were -here!' thinking of you as your proper self, you know." - -Philippa looked very grave. She did not like the idea of any such -prevarication on her sister's part, and was on the point of saying so, -till a moment's reflection reminded her that she had scarcely a right to -do so. So she contented herself with remarking quietly that in future -she begged her sister to avoid all mention of her name. - -"I cannot promise anything of the kind," said Evelyn. "Mr Gresham has -got interested in you now, and I am--" She stopped short. - -"Well, what?" asked Philippa. - -Evelyn blushed a little. - -"Interested in his interest, I suppose," she admitted, with a little -laugh. "I cannot help wondering," she went on, "when or where, or how, -you and he may meet again. I am sure you would have so much in common," -and it did not require much flight of imagination on the younger -sister's part to see whither Evelyn's thoughts were tending. - -She was both touched and annoyed, the practical effect of this -conversation being to make her wish more devoutly than ever that their -time at Wyverston were over. Other feelings were strongly influencing -her in this wish. For utterly unreasonable as she knew it to be, she -was conscious of a curious resentment against Michael Gresham, whom she -had not been able to avoid meeting--thanks generally to Solomon now and -then, either on the moor or nearer home, for tacitly accepting her -present personality, even while in a sense grateful to him for doing so. -For that he had guessed some part of her secret, guessed, at least, -that she _had_ a secret, she felt perfectly sure, and the consciousness -of this irritated her and reacted in curiously contradictory and -capricious ways. - -Fortunately, as she told herself, though here, too, her inconsistency -came in, she had never come across the elder of the two cousins. -Evelyn's dissertations made her doubly careful as regarded him, yet she -had a worrying curiosity to see him again, if only she could do so, -herself unseen. And but for an additional reason for precaution which -reached her a day or two later through her sister, she might have been -tempted to some more or less reckless step for the gratification of this -same curiosity, absurd and contemptible though she called it to herself. - -This new danger lay in the discovery of the fact that should fate lead -to the two Greshams laying their heads together about "Miss Raynsworth," -her identity with Michael's fellow-traveller would be by no means -unlikely to suggest itself. - -Evelyn was full of her last piece of interesting information concerning -Mr Bernard Gresham when she came up to bed a night or two after the -conversation already recorded. - -"Philippa," she exclaimed, as soon as they were safely shut in for the -night, "I have found out ever so much more about my charming Mr -Gresham. His home is in Nethershire--a place called Merle-in-the-Wold-- -isn't that a fascinating name? I am sure I have heard of it before. -Didn't _you_ speak of it, by-the-by? I said to him I was sure I had -heard it mentioned quite lately, as such a lovely part of the country." - -"Oh, Evelyn," said Philippa, aghast, "do be careful. Yes, no doubt I -spoke of it. I passed that way on my return from Dorriford. But what -might not come of it, if you had mentioned me in connection with it?" -"Nothing," says Evelyn, sensibly enough. "He knows my sister was at -Dorriford, there is no secret about _that_, and he probably knows that -you would pass Merle-in-the-Wold on your way to Marlby. You are getting -morbid and stupid, Phil, about being found out. And no one heard what -we were talking about, except--oh, Mr Gresham has all but asked us to -pay him a visit, I, of course, as your chaperon, though he would have a -married sister and her husband there, too. Phil," clasping her hands, -"we _must_ go. It would be too lovely--we two together." - -"And what about a maid?" said Philippa, grimly. - -"Oh, I don't exactly know; I must plan something when we go home. I am -sure I could think of some arrangement if I had a little time. I almost -think I will send away the under-nurse--she is a stupid little thing, -and though her wages are small, Dorcas says her appetite is enormous. I -could get a nice _young_ maid, who would not object to help a little -with the children, for a few pounds a year more. I am sure Duke would -not mind, and very likely her eating less would make up the difference. -You see, I shall have to be planning all about a house in a very few -months now, Phil. And if the old people here really take us up, Duke -will be so delighted that he will agree to anything." - -She was chattering on, when a word in her former speech recurred to -Philippa. - -"Wait a moment, Evey," she said. "You did not finish what you were -saying before. You said no one heard what you and Mr Gresham were -talking about, `except?' Except whom--one of the Headforts?" - -"No--what does it matter? I was only going to say except that stupid -Michael Gresham--he was staring at a book, as far as I remember. I -don't suppose he did hear what we were saying. And, do listen, Phil-- -don't you see, as I was saying, once Duke has the position--almost, one -may say, the _recognised_ position of heir, there will be things that we -_must_ do, out of respect for the family even, like my having a--" - -But the latter part of Evelyn's speech had conveyed little meaning to -her sister's brain, so startled was she by the careless announcement -that if any one had overheard what Evelyn and Mr Gresham had been -talking about, it had been his cousin. - -Had he done so, or had he not? Who could say? And what possibility was -there of discovering the facts of the case? - -Philippa trembled as she realised the consequences of Michael Gresham's -having taken in the whole bearings of her sister's chatter. No special -power of discernment would be required, nothing but the simplest, most -everyday faculty on his part of putting two and two together, to satisfy -him as to the identity of Mrs Marmaduke Headfort's sister and the girl -he had travelled with. And her trepidation was by no means selfish; she -forgot about the disagreeables which would certainly ensue to herself if -the strange little plot were to be disclosed, in realising the injurious -effect it would certainly have upon Evelyn and her belongings. - -"Oh, Evey!" she began, impulsively, but checked herself before saying -more. What right had she to blame Evelyn, whose words would have been -perfectly harmless but for her own unnecessary communication to Michael -Gresham in the train? Still more, what could be less expedient than -now, when the mischief was done, to startle and alarm her sister, and -effectually destroy her ease and unconstraint during the few days they -must still pass at Wyverston? - -"No," she decided in her own mind. "I must think it over by myself, and -I must face it by myself. I have got Evelyn into the danger, and I must -get her out of it at all costs. No one must ever be able to blame _her_ -in the least." - -But, oh! if she could but think that Michael had not caught the sense of -Evelyn's words--Evelyn called him "stupid;" but that he certainly could -not be in the real sense of the word, for she had heard, even in the -servants'-hall, allusions to the position he had gained for himself in -his profession, but "unobservant?" Could she hope that his perceptions -were not very keen? Many clever men were dull and slow in ordinary -life, and by all accounts he did not shine in society. But even this -flattering unction failed her as she recalled the keen, "interested" -expression of his somewhat deep-set eyes, and the half-sarcastic, -half-humorous lines of the whole physiognomy that first morning of -meeting him in the wood--the unlucky morning when she had forgotten her -spectacles, and in the exhilaration of the fresh air and novel -surroundings had been far less on her guard than she now was. - -All this train of thought passed through her mind far more rapidly than -it takes to describe the process, so rapidly that she had made up her -mind to silence as regarded Evelyn, before her sister had fully taken in -the scant attention which Philippa was bestowing on her words. - -"Philippa," she exclaimed, at last catching sight of the girl's grave -face, "what are you thinking about? You are always very good at -cheering me up when I am in low spirits, but I must say that when I am -feeling bright and hopeful, and with good reason, you are _not_ very -sympathising. Don't you care to hear about my plans?" - -"Of course I do," said Philippa, compelling herself to speak lightly, -"but we have oceans of time before us to talk over everything in, and -you have _not_ too much time for a good night; it is getting very late, -and if we go on talking you will never get to sleep." - -Evelyn was well-trained by this time; she made but faint resistance to -her sister's ultimatum. - -Of the two it was certainly Philippa who found the greater difficulty in -getting to sleep that night, and long before the dawn broke, she was -wide awake again, revolving in her own mind the whole tormenting -question of what to do, and how to do it. - -"Or, after all," said she to herself, "might it not be safer to leave -things alone, and do nothing?" - -CHAPTER ELEVEN. - -A COLD NOSE. - -Things if left alone often do shape themselves. - -Philippa had come to no decision as to the best course to pursue, when -further revelations from Evelyn intensified her alarm. - -"Philippa," she began, the very next afternoon. "I don't understand -that Michael Gresham, and I almost think I dislike him as much as I like -his cousin. Of course I have always thought him rough and abrupt, but -that he is to every one, more or less. But now there is something in -his manner to me almost indescribable--well, not exactly offensive, that -is too strong a word, but approaching it--a sort of tacit disapproval, -that I really cannot stand from a young man like that, who has nothing -whatever to do with me. I would not stand it if he were my brother; I -feel as if I should have an open quarrel with him before long if it goes -on!" - -Philippa felt cold with apprehension. - -"Don't talk of such a thing, _Evey_," she said; "your first visit here, -and the Greshams such old friends of these people! Nothing could be -more disagreeable. You don't mean to say that he has ever been actually -rude to you?" - -"No, nothing actually tangible. But he looks at me, especially when I -am talking to his cousin, in a sort of hard, questioning way, as if he -would like to pull me up for everything I was saying. At luncheon -to-day Mr Gresham alluded again to the visit we are to pay him. He was -asking about when I expect Duke back, and he turned to Michael with some -remark about the shooting--I forget what, exactly--in connection with -our going there, and the horrid young man scarcely answered. He was as -gruff as anything." - -"But that was more rude to his cousin than to you," said Philippa. - -Evelyn shook her head. - -"No, it had to do with me. I think Mr Gresham noticed it, in fact I am -sure he did, for afterwards I saw them together as I was crossing the -hall, and I think I heard Mr Gresham calling him a bear, or a boor, I'm -not sure which." - -There was no time for more just then, as Evelyn was going out for a -drive with Mrs Headfort, and the summons came, before her sister had -time to do more than repeat one little word of warning, as Mrs -Marmaduke flew off. But once she found herself alone, while -mechanically occupying herself in arranging Evelyn's things with her -usual deft carefulness, the poor girl's thoughts were by no means to be -envied. Things _were_ coming to a crisis, thanks to her sister's -innocent indiscretion and that--yes, she could join with Evelyn in -calling him "that horrid young man"--that horrid young man's impertinent -interference; for that he was about to interfere she felt convinced, -though as yet he could scarcely be said to have done so. - -"And if," thought Philippa, "he thinks it his duty--officious people -always think things their duty--to warn his cousins that we are acting a -part and deceiving others, who knows what may come of it? Poor Evey -will in one sense suffer more than I, and it will be _all_ my doing! I -may have ruined everything for them by my recklessness and self-will." - -She sat down beside the window in a state very nearly bordering on -despair. She dared not let herself cry, though to one of her -temperament the very rarity of her tears made them the greater relief. - -"What can I do?" she repeated, and wild ideas chased each other through -her brain as to the possibility of telegraphing to her mother to summon -them home at once, or of an appeal, however repugnant to every feeling, -to Michael Gresham to--nay, what could she say to him, without giving -him her full confidence? and that, she scarcely felt that it would be -possible to do. Of all men she had ever met, as far as she could judge, -he seemed the last in any way likely to understand or to sympathise with -the motives which had led her to act as she had done. Indeed, no _man_, -she said to herself, could enter into all the feelings, some of them so -apparently trivial and frivolous, which had actuated her. - -"And a man like him least of all," she thought. "One can see that he -prides himself on excessive honesty and straightforwardness. No doubt -he could be very good at saying disagreeable things from the best of -motives, and he could be quite incapable of entering into shades of -feeling, he is so rough. Now if it had been his cousin who was in -question--oh, it would have been quite different! He must be so refined -and delicate in perception." - -She gave a deep sigh. Her eyes turned mechanically to the window, and -she gazed out half vacantly. The afternoon was very still, and the grey -sky in any other part of the world would almost certainly have -prognosticated rain. But Philippa was learning her bearings better by -now in this northern country, where the greyness often meant nothing -special as regarded the weather. - -The wind had been high the night before, and the trees almost looked as -if winter had already come, the paths being thickly strewn with their -discarded vesture. - -A little shiver passed through the girl. - -"It does look dreary," she thought, for her window overlooked some of -the back premises, where no gardener's broom had as yet tidied up the -traces of the wind's undoing. One corner of the great stable-yard was -visible, and as Philippa still looked out, the silence was broken by a -sound she loved to hear, the eager barking of a huge watch-dog, whom she -had already made friends with in her rambles about the place. - -"I hope they are going to loose him," she thought, with interest, -craning her neck to see what was happening. - -Just at that moment she caught sight of Mrs Shepton's slight and still -erect figure, as she made her way back to the house, and a sudden -suggestion flashed into the girl's mind. - -"I believe it is the only thing to do," she said to herself. "She may -be able to ask him what I cannot and will not ask for myself," for by -this time Philippa had learnt something of the relations existing -between Michael Gresham and the housekeeper, though the latter had been -scrupulously careful to avoid anything approaching to gossip about the -young man whom she was still so devoted to. - -Without giving herself time to reconsider what she was about to do, -Philippa, pale with suppressed nervousness, hurried down-stairs in hopes -of catching Mrs Shepton on her entrance to the house. In this she -succeeded, for in answer to her tap at the door of the housekeeper's -room, its owner's voice replied, "Come in." - -"Are you alone?" said Philippa, glancing round, "and can you spare me a -few minutes? Mrs Shepton, I am in such trouble, and I promised you to -ask your advice, if need arose." - -The housekeeper glanced at her anxiously. The girl had been greatly in -her thoughts the last few days, though she had not seen much of her, for -it had seemed to her that she was looking ill and careworn, unless, -indeed, her own eyes had been sharpened by the younger Mr Gresham's -communications. - -"Sit down, my dear," she said, kindly. - -Philippa obeyed her at once. Indeed, now that she was within the -shelter of the kind woman's own little sanctum, and felt the protection -of her motherly tone and words, a reaction, not unnaturally, from the -constraint she had been putting upon herself, set in. She trembled so -that she could scarcely have stood a moment longer, and when she began -to speak, her voice entirely failed her and she burst into tears. - -Mrs Shepton felt positively alarmed, but she spoke calmly. - -"Try to be composed, my dear," she said, still more kindly than before, -"otherwise you will not be able to tell me what is wrong. Will you have -a glass of water? I have some here which is as cold as ice." - -The girl made a little sign in the affirmative, and when she had drunk -the water, she was able to some extent to check her sobs. - -"Now tell me," said Mrs Shepton, "tell me all about it. Have you had -bad news? No, it can't be that, for I have seen you twice since the -letters came, and you did not seem upset. Is Mrs Marmaduke vexed with -you for anything? You must not take it so to heart, if it is that; I am -sure she is a kind--" - -But before she got further in these suggestions of consolation, -something in their nature suddenly struck her as strangely discrepant -with the whole look and even attitude of the young girl before her. The -disguising spectacles were discarded--the handkerchief with which -Philippa was brushing away her tears was of the finest cambric, with a -monogram beautifully worked in one corner--the whole pose of the figure, -even in its abandonment of distress, was full of grace and refinement. -It did not require Philippa's shake of the head, accompanied -involuntarily by a faint little smile, to bring home to the housekeeper -that Michael Gresham had been right in the opinion he had expressed as -to the social status of his fellow-traveller, and which, on first -hearing it, had struck his old friend as scarcely warranted. - -For Philippa was now completely herself, in the sense, that is to say, -of having thrown off all attempt at appearing other than she really was, -even while less self-controlled, more thoroughly unstrung than she had -ever been before in her life. - -Yet there was something almost queenly in her bearing, as at last, -resolutely choking down the sobs which still would rise, she sat -straight up in her chair and looked Mrs Shepton clearly in the face. - -"I am going to tell you everything," she began. "I know you will be -kind, however startled and even shocked you may feel. Mrs Shepton, my -real name is Philippa Raynsworth, I am Mrs Marmaduke Headfort's -sister." - -For a moment or two the housekeeper was too confused to take in -distinctly the meaning of the words which reached her ears. - -"Sister," she repeated vaguely, while some romantic notion of -"foster-sister," "adopted sister," or the like, floated through her -brain. "You don't mean really--" - -"Yes, I do," interrupted her visitor. "I am her actual, full sister. -You know her name was Raynsworth before she married?" - -Mrs Shepton nodded, waiting breathlessly for further revelations. - -"I will tell you how it all came about," the girl went on, "But first of -all you must promise me to believe that it was no one's doing but my -own. My father and mother are as vexed with me as they can possibly be, -and Evelyn--it has been very trying for her," she was going to have -added, but the words remained unsaid, as with a faint smile of -amusement, which even in the midst of her distress she could not -altogether suppress, she recalled the comfortable philosophy with which, -once she had accepted it as a _fait accompli_, her sister had resigned -herself to her new lady's-maid. "It has been," she went on, "I see now, -a great risk to run for Mrs Marmaduke; if Mrs Headfort and her -daughters suspected that we have been deceiving them, I do not know what -harm might come of it." - -She glanced up tentatively at Mrs Shepton, but there was nothing -reassuring in the housekeeper's grave face. - -"I can't say--" she began. "No, Miss--" and again she hesitated--"I -can't say how it might be. They are _very_ straightforward ladies-- -practical jokes, or wagers, or things of that sort that some people -would think nothing of, they would judge very sharply." - -"But you misunderstand," said Philippa, eagerly; "it is nothing of that -sort at all. You will sympathise with my motives when you hear them, I -know, however you may blame me for what I have done. Now, please, -listen, and I will tell all exactly. To begin with, we are not at all -rich, and lately, with my sister's return home with the two children-- -all three far from strong--and other things, which will get easier -before long, just lately we have had to be very careful and economical." - -Then with this preface she related to the housekeeper how the idea of -accompanying her sister had first taken shape in her mind, and how one -thing after another had combined to make it seem both desirable and -feasible, with but infinitesimal risk of the secret ever being -disclosed. And by the softening expression of the kind woman's face, -she saw that her sympathy was enlisted. - -Then came the recital of the really extraordinary coincidences which had -aroused her misgivings in the direction of the two Greshams, especially -the younger. - -"It is he I am so afraid of," she said, in conclusion; "though he has -never seen me before and could not identify me as his cousin could, I -dread him far more. Hitherto, I have managed to keep out of Mr Bernard -Gresham's way, and we have only two or three days more here. But what I -have just told you of this very morning, makes me almost certain that -Mr Michael Gresham has guessed the whole, or very nearly the whole, and -what is still worse, that in time we shall have a very severe judge-- -even now he may be speaking about it to his cousin or to the Headforts, -probably thinking it his `duty' to do so," with a rather sarcastic -emphasis on the word. - -"Not to his cousin," said Mrs Shepton. "I know enough to reassure you -as to that. There is no great confidence between them." - -"They must be so very different," said Philippa. - -"_Very_ different indeed," said the housekeeper. "Nor," she went on -after this little parenthesis, "do I think it likely that Mr Michael -will have said anything to my ladies as yet. The first person," with a -touch of importance, "he would come to about it, would, I think, be -myself." - -An expression of great relief overspread Philippa's face. - -"Do you really think so?" she said. "That would be the very best thing -for me. You see, you could now tell him you know the whole--that I have -confided it to you, but," with a sudden change of tone, as another -aspect of the affair struck her, "do you mean, Mrs Shepton, that he has -already talked me over with you?" And as the housekeeper did not -negative the inference to be drawn from her former words, the girl's -face grew scarlet. "What did he say or think?" she said. "It does seem -so dreadfully lowering! As if I were a sort of adventuress! Was he -afraid of my letting burglars into the house? I think he must be a -most--officious young man!" - -In her turn the housekeeper reddened a little, but she kept her -self-control. - -"My dear young lady," she began, with a slight effort. "You must not -think me officious for what I cannot help reminding you of--that all the -disagreeables which you have to bear, or may have to bear as to this -affair, are of your own causing, and," with a very slight tremble in her -voice, "even from what you know of me, I think you might trust me not to -talk over any girl--whatever her position--in any way that could -possibly be objected to--least of all with a young gentleman, even if he -were the kindest and best in the world." - -"Which indeed," she added to herself almost inaudibly, "Master Michael -is." - -Her words brought to Philippa a quick rush of regret for her hasty -words, as she recalled the affectionate relations which existed between -her old friend and the younger Gresham. - -"Please forgive me," she said, penitently. "You have been very, very -good to me, Mrs Shepton, and you are very good to me now, in listening -and sympathising, instead of at once saying you must tell it all to Mrs -Headfort, for fear of any possible blame to yourself hereafter, as many -selfish people would have done. Please forgive me, and oh, do tell me -what I had better do." - -She clasped her hands in entreaty, and the charm of her appeal went home -to the housekeeper's heart. - -"My dear young lady," she began again, then hesitated. "I do wish to -advise you for the best, but it is very difficult. I have never heard -of such a thing. I don't think I have ever even read of anything like -it in a story-book," and for the first time the humorous side of the -situation struck her. But the faint smile which this drew forth soon -faded. "I wish I were quite sure of what is right to do. I cannot bear -concealing anything that happens in this house from my masters, and -yet--it is not as if your parents did not know of it, and _they_, as I -understand, have thought it forced upon them to keep the secret." - -For, in spite of the deception Philippa had been practising, her innate -truthfulness had impressed itself upon Mrs Shepton. Not for one moment -did she doubt the absolute accuracy of every word in the girl's -narration. "I should like," she continued, "as far as I may say so -without presumption, to say just what your own mamma would say if she -were here and knew what things have come to." - -At the mention of her mother's name, Philippa's overstrung nerves gave -way again completely. She buried her face in her hands and burst into -fresh tears. - -"Oh, Mrs Shepton," she cried, "don't speak of mamma; I can't bear it. -She has never, never before in all my life been really angry with me. I -would do anything, humble myself in any way, rather than bring further -trouble upon her and papa." - -But for the moment there came no reply from the housekeeper, who had -started to her feet at the sound of a knock at the door, which in her -agitation had not reached Philippa's ears. - -Nor had the intruder waited for the usual response, so confident was he -of his welcome, and before Mrs Shepton could take any precaution on -Miss Raynsworth's account, Michael Gresham was in the room, staring with -amazement at the scene before him--amazement increased by the sense of -the last words she had uttered. - -And not Michael alone--indeed _his_ presence was first revealed to the -weeping girl by the touch of a cold nose on the hand still covering her -face as she bent forward in her chair. For Solomon's ready sympathy was -not restrained by any fear of intrusion; something was the matter with a -some one he was attached to, and he must at once see to it, and offer -all the comfort in his power. - -CHAPTER TWELVE. - -AN APPEAL. - -"Solomon!" exclaimed Philippa, looking up with a start, "how have you--" -But the rest of the words died on her lips, for there before her stood -Solomon's master, his eyes fixed on her in astonishment, not unmingled -with concern, which latter detail, however, at the moment escaped her -notice. - -Alarmed and indignant at what seemed to her an unjustifiable intrusion, -Philippa sprang to her feet, making a futile effort to remove the traces -of her tears. She was brushing past the young man with the one idea of -escaping from the room, when the housekeeper, recovering from her own -first start of annoyance, stopped her. - -"My dear," she began, "my dear young lady--as--as Mr Michael _is_ here, -will you not wait a moment? Perhaps it may be the best opportunity -of--" - -"I don't know what you mean, Mrs Shepton," replied the girl, haughtily. -"I would not have come to see you if I had thought any one else--" - -"I beg your pardon," exclaimed Michael, recollecting himself, as he -realised that he was the culprit.--"I will come back again, nurse," he -added to his old friend. - -But now it was on him that the housekeeper's detaining hand was laid. - -"Stay a moment, Master Michael," she began; and acting on a sudden -impulse, she again appealed to Philippa. "Will you give me leave," she -said, "to consult Mr Michael about--about this difficulty, as we have -reason to think that he knows so much already? May it not be better to -tell him all?" - -Philippa turned upon her with flaming cheeks, too angry now to care -whether the young man saw her tear-stained face and swollen eyes or not. - -"Mrs Shepton," she said, indignantly, "you leave me no choice. What -you have said now is equivalent to telling everything! Say what you -like, I don't care, but I cannot stay to hear it. And remember if--if -Mr Gresham agrees to what I know you mean to ask him, he will do so for -your sake, not for mine.--_I_ make no appeal to you," she ended, coldly, -glancing at the young man, as she determinedly crossed the room and -disappeared, closing the door behind her. - -The two she had left looked at each other in consternation. Then -Michael gave a short laugh. - -"What a whirlwind of a girl!" he ejaculated. "What does it all mean, -Mrs Shepton, ma'am? I suppose you must tell me now, and I suppose I've -got to listen. But why is your young friend so furious with _me_-- -whatever have _I_ done?" and in his tone, beneath its lightness, Mrs -Shepton perceived a considerable spice of indignation. - -The housekeeper, though sharing his indignation, looked ready to cry. - -"What have you done, sir?" she repeated. "Nothing, of course nothing, -except that you have been very kind and considerate about a self-willed, -headstrong young lady--for a young lady she is, as you suspected from -the first. And never in all my life have I heard of such a wild scheme -as she has planned and carried out. If she had fallen into some hands, -a nice scandal there would have been! But yet," she went on, her voice -softening, "I am so sorry for her too, for her motives were good and -most unselfish. And when she goes home, she will have to face her -parents' great displeasure." - -Michael Gresham raised his eyebrows. - -"I am glad to hear that," he said. "I was beginning to wonder what sort -of people they could be to countenance such a proceeding, for this very -moment I had come to tell you what I had grown sure of, that this most -eccentric young lady's-maid is no other than Mrs Marmaduke's own -sister--Miss Raynsworth." And he hastily recapitulated the various twos -and twos which had offered themselves to be made fours of, without any -special efforts at detection or very great exercise of acuteness on his -part. - -Mrs Shepton looked considerably relieved, for the having acted on her -impulse had already begun to frighten her a little. - -"I shall be glad to tell Miss Raynsworth that you had found it all out," -she said, "when she has calmed down a little, and then she will not be -vexed with me. She was sure you suspected something, and that was what -brought it all out to-day. She is terribly frightened, and no wonder! -And yet her pride makes her angry at the very idea of appealing to any -one--to you, Mr Michael--to keep her secret, you see?" - -"Yes, naturally; but what I _don't_ see is why I should be expected to -do so. A girl who can behave so wildly, and in defiance of her parents, -should be pulled up for it, and the sooner the better, I should say." - -His tone was hard; all the softness and geniality seemed to have melted -out of his face. Mrs Shepton looked distressed. She began to feel as -if by her appeal to him she had let the genii out of the bottle--not -that she, good woman, would have thus expressed it--there was a look in -her "boy's" face which she had encountered more than once before in his -progress from babyhood to manhood, and which meant a good deal beyond -what she was able to cope with. - -"Master Michael, my dear," she began, sitting down as she spoke, and -motioning him to a seat beside her, "you don't understand. Wait till -you hear the whole, and all that the poor, dear young lady had in her -mind;" and trying not to seem too eager in her defence of Philippa, for -she was not without experience in the "little ways" of the sterner sex, -the housekeeper related with considerable detail all that she had learnt -from Miss Raynsworth as to the home life of her family, her sisterly -devotion and not unreasonable anxiety about Evelyn at the present -crisis, all--down even to the little difficulties which had attended the -efforts to find a suitable attendant to accompany Mrs Marmaduke -Headfort to Wyverston. She drew, too, a touching picture of Philippa's -anguish of mind on receiving the sternly disapproving letter from her -parents. - -"Poor dear, I couldn't but feel for her, however rash and foolish she -may have been, when she looked up at me so piteous-like through her -tears, and said, `Don't speak of mamma; she has never been really angry -with me before in my life.' It quite went to my heart, Master Michael, -but of course that's a woman's way of looking at it, I know," she added, -diplomatically. - -Michael emitted an indefinite sound, something between a "humph," and a -"pshaw," but the lines of his face had softened; there was a touch of -amusement, too, in his eyes as he glanced up. - -"She is a very silly girl," he said, at last, "and a very bad actress, -though I don't know that I like her any the less for that.--Eh, Solomon, -what do you say to it, old boy? _You_ saw through her from the first, -didn't you?--Solomon is very fastidious in his friendships, you know, -Mrs Shepton, ma'am, and he took to her at once, as I have told you." - -His old nurse's spirits rose. Master Michael wouldn't speak like that, -she thought, if he was going to be hard and unsympathising, but she was -wise enough not to show her elation. - -"Of course, sir," she agreed, "_silly_ is no word for it! It was -perfectly wild, but the wilder it was, the more mischief may come of it -if we cannot help her. That is what she is now so wretched about; she -thought of how it might turn our ladies, here, indeed, the whole family, -against poor Captain Marmaduke and his wife, little as either deserves -it," for Mrs Shepton had not forgotten to exculpate Evelyn from all -concerted share in the mad freak. - -Michael's face darkened a little. - -"I don't understand that young woman altogether," he said; "either she -is a better actress than her sister, or extraordinarily childish." - -"She is quite straightforward," said the housekeeper, "but her sister -has not allowed her to take it up deeply. She knows nothing of the -angry letter from their home, or of all this trouble just now. And she -has not nearly the strength of character of her sister, I am sure. Miss -Raynsworth tells me that Mrs Marmaduke really forgets about it from -time to time! And it must be so, or she would never have been so -incautious. Why, it's mainly thanks to her that there's all this now." - -The smiles which had been lurking somewhere in the corners of Michael's -physiognomy now made itself visible, and broadened as he caught sight of -the dubious expression it called forth on his old friend's face. - -"I can't help thinking," he began, half apologetically, "of the scene -there might be here if it all came out. I mean nothing disrespectful to -this family, nurse, when I say that they are not remarkable for their -sense of humour. Christine, perhaps, has the most of it, of a rather -blunt kind, but Mrs Headfort's face would grow so long that it would -never shorten again, and Felicia would certainly faint and be more -melancholy than ever, if they once discovered the trick that had been -played upon them." - -"Indeed, yes, sir," Mrs Shepton replied, gravely, too decorous to join -in his smile. "It would be no laughing matter." - -"But what have _I_ to do with it," said Michael, reverting to the -earlier part of their conversation. "What do you--or she--want me to -do, or not to do?" - -"Oh, that is quite easy to explain, sir," replied the housekeeper, -briskly. "It is _not_ to do that we ask of you. Just to keep her -secret, in short, for the two or three days that remain." - -Michael again raised his eyebrow's. - -"And after that--shall I be at liberty to tell anybody who cares to -hear? It is rather like giving the burglars time to escape; does Miss -Raynsworth intend leaving the country?" - -But Mrs Shepton did not smile. On the contrary, she shook her head. - -"It is no joking matter, sir," she repeated, dolefully; "it is not, -indeed. I wish I saw a clear end to it, that I do. No, Master -Michael--of course I did not mean what you say. She will depend on you -_never_ to betray her, I feel sure. I only mentioned the two or three -days she will still be here, because once they are over, it is not -likely the poor young lady or her troubles will ever come into your mind -again--there would be no difficulty in keeping her secret after that." - -From behind her own spectacles the old woman eyed the young man with a -somewhat curious expression. But he was looking down; his face was -perfectly composed, almost stolid. Only his old nurse knew that when he -"put on that face," it was often more as a mask than as indicating -indifference. - -"I don't know," he said at last, with a slightly cynical lightness of -tone. "I have not the very least doubt that she will keep out of my -way--she took a dislike to me from the very first, even in the train; a -case of natural antipathy, probably. But fate has a nasty little trick -of meddlesomeness in these cases sometimes; just because she would -prefer giving me the widest berth possible, your young lady, my good -Mrs Shepton, may find herself hurled in my way some day when she least -expects it. It is by no means improbable; once Duke Headfort is back -again, he and his wife will naturally see something of the people here, -and Bernard and I are often about Wyverston." - -"But Miss Raynsworth is not Captain Marmaduke's wife--I am quite sure -_she_ will not want to come here again, sir," said Mrs Shepton. - -"Well, no; perhaps not. But there are other possibilities--Mrs Duke -and my cousin have struck up a great friendship--I told you, you know, -that I heard them planning a visit in which the sister was to be -included. And I don't see why I should stay away from Merle at the best -of the shooting for any silly girl in the world. Do you?" - -"Nobody asked such a thing," said the housekeeper, feeling for once -rather cross with her adored nursling. "Miss Raynsworth would never -dream of it--once you have given your promise, her mind, so far as you -are concerned, will be quite at rest, Master Michael, I can assure you." - -"I daresay," said Michael, grimly, "once I _have_ given my promise." - -He was in a very teasing mood. - -But his words failed this time in their effect. - -"My dear Master Michael," said the housekeeper, with a smile, "you are -talking for talking's sake, just to get a `rise out of me,' as you used -to say. Of course I know it is all right, and I can assure poor Miss -Raynsworth that the matter will be perfectly safe in your hands." - -Mr Gresham did not reply. He had transferred his teasing to Solomon, -from whom he at last succeeded in extracting a growl, which made Mrs -Shepton start. Though if the truth were told, the dachs only growled -out of amiable condescension, understanding that his doing so would -gratify his master, whose childishness really amused him sometimes. - -"All the same," continued the old woman, when Solomon had subsided -again, "I shall be more thankful than I can tell you, when the two -ladies are safely off. It makes me that nervous, sir, you'd scarcely -believe it. And unless I can persuade Miss Raynsworth to stay in her -room with a bad headache this evening, there's sure to be gossip in the -hall; any one with half an eye could see she is quite upset; her poor -eyes alone--" - -Michael looked up quickly, and this time his old friend had no need to -rebuke him for levity. - -"Do you mean--" he began. "Are the--all of the servants not--not -respectful and civil to her?" - -Mrs Shepton bristled slightly. - -"_Civil_, sir; of course they are that, at any rate when _I_ am by, and -I don't think she ever comes much across them at other times. But -`respectful'--if you mean behaving to her as if she were not one of -themselves!--is the very last thing to wish for under the -circumstances." - -"Of course, of course--I was forgetting," said the young man. - -"You may be sure _I_ would allow no disrespect to any young girl, above -all, a stranger. And as far as our own servants are concerned I think -it has been quite pleasant, though even I cannot stop talk among -themselves. And the visitors' servants I know still less about; I had -to give Miss--Miss Ray is the name she calls herself--a warning the -other day, to be a little more chatty and friendly. There's a maid of -Mrs Worthing's that I felt uneasy about. She's a sharp sort of person -and inclined to be spiteful to any one younger and better-looking than -herself." - -"She takes after her mistress, then. I can't stand Mrs Worthing," said -Michael, boyishly. "The daughter is a harmless little thing--wax in her -mother's hands, but Mrs Worthing is a bundle of worldliness, just the -sort of woman to beware of." - -He had more in his mind than he thought it well to discuss, even with -his trusted old friend. It would have required no great acumen to -discover the great attraction of Wyverston at the present time to the -lady in question, for Bernard Gresham was universally recognised as one -of the most desirable _partis_ of the day. And that, not only by reason -of his wealth and social position, but on the higher grounds also of his -personal character and refinement of taste. And what Michael had -overheard of Evelyn's conversation with his cousin, even one or two -remarks accidentally dropped by his cousin himself, had shown that the -Miss Raynsworth of Dorriford had made an impression on him, little as he -had seen of her. - -"Yes," added Michael aloud, after a little pause, "you are quite right, -nurse. Don't let the Worthings--mistress or maid--get the slightest -scent of any mystery. And impress upon the young lady at all costs to -keep out of Bernard's way." - -So saying, he got up and turned to leave the room. "You may depend upon -me," he said, with a slight nod, and without waiting to hear the -housekeeper's fervent thanks, he called to Solomon, who by this time had -fallen comfortably asleep by the fire, and the two went off together. - -When Evelyn came in from her drive, somewhat to her surprise, no -"Phillis" was awaiting her as usual in her room. She had shut and -locked the door carefully, for by this time she had in some ways -acquired caution, and then hurrying through the dressing-room, she made -her way to the small apartment appropriated to her sister, though -scarcely expecting to find her there. - -"I believe she has gone out for a stroll," she said to herself. "Phil -is always so fond of mooning about in the dusk, and I do so want to see -her." - -But her conjecture proved unfounded, for there on the little bed, with a -shawl thrown over her, lay Philippa fast asleep. Evelyn stole up beside -her, and stooped down to see her face. - -"Poor dear," she thought, "she is looking very pale, and there are dark -rings round her eyes; I wonder if there is anything the matter! Anyway -I won't wake her. I must wait till later to tell her of this new -complication." - -So if young Mrs Headfort looked a degree less trim than usual when she -made her appearance among the circle gathered in the hall for afternoon -tea, it was not to be marvelled at. On her way thither, at the corner -of the first passage, she almost ran into the arms of the housekeeper. -Evelyn started; she was in rather a nervous mood, and it was not often -one came across Mrs Shepton in the upper storeys. To her relief the -housekeeper was the first to speak. - -"I beg your pardon, ma'am," she said, "I'm afraid I startled you. I did -not know you had come in, and I was on my way to your--maid's room. She -did not come down to tea, and I know her head was aching this afternoon. -I thought perhaps she would like a cup of tea up-stairs." - -"Thank you," said Evelyn, with incautious fervour. "Thank you so very -much. She is lying on her bed fast asleep, and she does not look at all -well! But I must go down to tea. If you _could_ stay beside her a few -minutes I should be most grateful. She may wake; if she does, please -tell her that I can manage quite well for myself to-night." - -The new-comer glanced at the young lady approvingly; even the flush -which involuntarily rose to Evelyn's face, much to her own annoyance, -for they were standing close to an already lighted lamp, increased Mrs -Shepton's good opinion of Mrs Marmaduke. - -"I will certainly say so, ma'am," she replied, quickly. - -"I have a quarter of an hour to spare, and I will see to her. Perhaps -the best thing would be for her to go to bed properly. A good night's -sleep will put her quite right, I daresay." - -And Evelyn, her mind more at rest about her sister, hurried off, -congratulating herself on the lucky chance which had brought them in -contact with such a kindly "unsuspicious" person as the Wyverston -housekeeper. - -CHAPTER THIRTEEN. - -HERSELF AGAIN. - -More "good luck" was in store for young Mrs Headfort that afternoon. -And when she went up-stairs again to dress for dinner, and found her -sister--In bed indeed, but on the alert to jump up to see to Evelyn's -toilet--she rejoiced that Philippa's having been asleep before had -delayed her relating the new cause of alarm that bad arisen, till she -could at the same time tell of its happy dispersal. - -This was what had happened. - -Allusion had been made to Mrs Marmaduke's approaching departure, and in -her thoughtless fashion she had grumbled somewhat at the long journey, -"all by myself in a corner of a railway carriage." And thereupon, not -unnaturally, Mr Gresham, the elder, had offered to escort her a -considerable part of the way; as far indeed as the junction, where, as -will be remembered, she had, on her journey north, been startled by the -unexpected apparition of her volunteer lady's-maid. - -"It is really on my way," said the master of Merle, with the -graciousness of manner which, when he chose to exert it, was almost -irresistible, "and as I must be home by the end of this week, a day -sooner or later is immaterial. There are two routes, you see," he -continued, "and your way only takes about an hour longer. So pray let -me look after you as far at least as Wrexhill." - -Evelyn was aghast; for a moment or two, realising her own folly, she -could not speak. Bernard Gresham saw her annoyance, and attributed it, -fortunately, to a cause very foreign to the real one. He imagined that -she was vexed at not being able to invite him to accompany her to her -father's house and spend a night there by way of breaking his journey. -And with what he believed to be consummate tact, he hastened to set her -mind at rest. For though few invitations would have suited him better, -he knew that the Raynsworths were far from rich, and thus readily -explained Mrs Marmaduke's not suggesting what in many cases would have -seemed a very simple arrangement. - -Little did he suspect what was really passing through poor Mrs -Marmaduke's mind, and it was with some surprise that he noticed the -still troubled expression on her face, even after he had, as he -imagined, reassured her, by remarking that he must go straight through -from Wrexhill, however late it was, as a new purchase of a valuable -young horse was to travel by this train; a horse which he wished to keep -his own eye on both at the start and on arrival at its destination. - -Evelyn scarcely heard what he said. She murmured confusedly something -in the way of thanks, and then hastily changed the subject till she -could fly up-stairs and consult her sister as to how to steer clear of -this new and most uncalled-for complication. - -But up-stairs she found Philippa fast asleep and looking so ill that to -awake her would have been cruelty of which, with all her -thoughtlessness, Evelyn Headfort was entirely incapable. - -So it was not to be wondered at that when the young lady got down to the -hall where most of the household were already assembled for tea, she -glanced round her in trepidation, earnestly hoping that her favourite -Mr Gresham might not be one of the company. - -"He is sure to begin again about the journey," she thought, "and I do -not know what to say or what excuse to give. And I must fix the day; -Mrs Headfort, kind as she is, does not, I can see, like people to hang -on indefinitely, and it is an undignified thing to do. I wonder what -Phil would advise. I am really ashamed to tell her what a fool I was." - -Her hopes were not realised. Both the Greshams were among the group -standing round the tea-table, where Christine Headfort was handing cups. -Nor did a letter, which had come by the afternoon post, and which her -hostess begged her to read at once, help to cheer her. - -"I must go--_decidedly_--on Thursday," she exclaimed, impulsively again, -as soon as she had run her eye down the few lines it contained. - -"No bad news, I hope?" said Mrs Headfort, senior, kindly. - -"N-no, not exactly. It is only that--you see, I made my mother -_promise_ to tell me precisely how the children were," she replied, sure -of the elder lady's sympathy, "and she says Bonny has a cold and rather -a suspicious cough; and baby is not looking _quite_ well either. -Whooping-cough is about, and the doctor says he cannot be quite sure as -to Bonny till Thursday. I had already spoken of Thursday to mamma, and -she says she is so glad I shall be back by then." - -"I quite understand," said Mrs Headfort, "and sorry as we shall be to -lose you, my dear Evelyn, I agree with you that you should be on the -spot. When my children were young I never left them if they were the -least ill, not even to my mother's care. And it was thanks to that, I -do believe, that they all grew up so strong, even Geoff," with a -moment's pathetic forgetfulness, instantly followed by a deep sigh. -"Yes," she continued, pulling herself together with the self-control -habitual to her, "there is nothing like a mother's watchfulness." - -"I felt sure you would understand," said Evelyn, "So I will decide for -Thursday." - -"Thursday," repeated a voice beside her; "you are speaking of your -journey, Mrs Headfort, are you not?" It was Bernard Gresham, who had -overheard her last words. - -"I can manage Thursday, I feel sure, so you may feel quite happy about -Mrs Marmaduke," he went on, turning to Mrs Headfort the elder. - -His words awoke no responsive smile on Evelyn's face, and but a faint -one on that of his hostess, who, truth to tell, was somewhat too -"old-fashioned" in her notions, altogether to approve of this masculine -chaperonage for Duke Headfort's charming and girlish wife. And Evelyn -rose still some degrees higher in her estimation from her slack -eagerness to avail herself of the young man's proposal. - -"To be so pretty and attractive, and yet so very discreet, is really -greatly to her credit," thought the old lady. - -Another member of the group had noticed young Mrs Headfort's -hesitation--noticed and thoroughly understood it, in a way which would -have greatly astonished her. - -"What's that you're saying, Bernard?" said his cousin, stepping forward. -"Going on Thursday? What about the big shoot that day? They're -counting on you. The squire won't be pleased, will he, Mrs Headfort?" - -"Indeed, no," said their hostess, quickly, "very much the reverse, I am -afraid." Her husband was not present. - -Mr Gresham glanced at Michael. - -"You can take my place," he said; "you can drop your work for a day, it -will make you something less of a `dull boy';" for the younger Gresham -had been "grinding" pretty steadily during his stay at Wyverston. - -"Sorry to disoblige you," said Michael, drily, "but my work has nothing -to do with it, my work _here_, that is to say. I must be in London on -Thursday morning; I go up by the night express to-morrow. There is no -getting out of it," and he turned away determinedly. - -When Michael "looked like that," his cousin, as well as Mrs Shepton, -knew by past experience that there was no more to be said. - -"Surly boor," he muttered under his breath, though the next instant -there was a smile on his face, as he addressed his hostess. - -"Do you really think it would annoy the squire?" he inquired. - -"I am quite sure it would, as you ask me, Bernard," Mrs Headfort -replied, decidedly, "and Evelyn would be the last--" - -"Oh, dear, yes," interrupted Mrs Marmaduke, eagerly. "I would not for -worlds, Mr Gresham, have you risk such a thing for my sake. I shall be -all right--just as right as on my journey here." - -In face of the want of enthusiasm with which his proposal had been -received, there was nothing to be done but for Mr Gresham to withdraw -it, and this he did from a mixture of motives. Few things would have -distressed him more than to show want of consideration for the now -son-less old squire; furthermore, if Bernard Gresham had a special -personal foible, it was the fear of looking ridiculous, and he prided -himself greatly on his tact. - -So with a little bow of unruffled composure he accepted Evelyn's fiat. - -"Some other time, perhaps, I may be more fortunate," he murmured, and -mentally contrasting him with his cousin, by no means to the latter's -advantage, Evelyn thanked him with graceful cordiality. - -All this was what she now had to relate to her sister. - -"Did you ever hear of such a lucky escape, by the skin of our teeth?" -she concluded, with exuberant self-congratulation; and Philippa, lying -there pale and fagged-looking after her rare fit of violent crying, -could not but agree with her. - -"I don't know," she said, wearily, "I don't know what we _should_ have -done if he had travelled with us in the same train. It would have been -worse now for it all to have been found out than even at the beginning, -now when we are within forty-eight hours of being safe at home! Oh -dear, dear! I am sure I shall never want to leave it again. I wish I -had not gone to Dorriford; somehow that seems to have begun it all. The -meeting Mr Gresham there!" - -"You are too depressing," said Evelyn, impatiently, "instead of being -delighted that I managed to get out of it so beautifully." - -"I don't quite see that you _did_ get out of it," said Philippa, rather -maliciously; "as far as I understand, it seems to have been Michael -Gresham who came to the rescue." - -"No thanks to him," said Evelyn; "it was very horrid and interfering of -him. I do believe he is jealous of his cousin. And I was forgetting to -tell you that afterwards I believe he was conscious of having seemed -very disagreeable, for he came and sat down beside me and began talking -far more nicely than he has ever done yet, rather as if he wanted to -`make up,' you know." - -"I don't quite know why you have taken a dislike to him," said Philippa, -listlessly. "I should think he's nice in some ways, kind-hearted -perhaps, or else his dog wouldn't be so fond of him." - -"I don't know how you can judge," said Evelyn; "you have only seen him -in the train." - -Philippa did not reply. She was up again by this time, and busying -herself as usual with the preparations of Evelyn's evening attire, and -before her sister left her, a promise had been extracted that the girl -would not sit up till Evelyn's reappearance that night. - -The next day passed without event of any moment. It seemed long and -wearisome to Philippa, for in her increased terror of discovery she -almost exaggerated her precautions, and scarcely ventured to leave her -own room. Late in the afternoon she was sitting by the open window of -her sister's apartment, which looked out on the front of the house, when -the sound of wheels caught her attention, and glancing out she saw a -dog-cart coming round from the stables. - -It was hidden from view for a few minutes as it stood under the large -porch, but the sound of voices and laughter reached her ears, telling -their own tale, as she distinguished, "good-bye, old fellow," "too bad -of you," and the like. And in another minute the cart drove off, though -not so rapidly as to prevent her perceiving that one of its occupants -was Michael Gresham; and leaning forward slightly she caught sight of -Solomon's little brown person comfortably ensconced on the seat beside -his master. Just at that moment the young man looked up. That he saw -her there could be no question, for he instinctively lifted his hand to -his cap, and Philippa, crimsoning, drew back hastily behind the -window-curtains. - -"It was rather nice of him," she said to herself, "though rash. I do -hope no one saw it. Poor old Solomon, I wonder if I shall ever stroke -his smooth little back again!" - -What would she have thought had she known that the departure of both -master and dog had been hastened by some forty-eight hours or so, as the -only means Michael could see of putting a stop to his cousin's -disastrous proposal of escorting Mrs Marmaduke Headfort on her homeward -way? - -There are--there must be such things as "brainwaves." What had made -Michael look up at the first-storey windows as he drove away from -Wyverston? - -Philippa, as she got up from her seat by the window and began some -preparations for Evelyn's packing, was conscious of some intermingling -of feelings with regard to her former fellow-traveller's departure. It -was, in a sense, a relief to know that the only person who, besides the -kindly old housekeeper, was in possession of her secret, had left the -place; a salve to her wounded dignity to be no longer in dread of coming -across the man to whom circumstances had forced her to appeal so -unwillingly. Yet, with Michael Gresham there went a certain sense of -protection and security. Somehow or other she was instinctively assured -that however he might blame her, he would have stood by her in any worse -complication, had such arisen, and would have exerted himself to the -utmost to ward off more serious trouble. - -"I am happier than I can express to know that we shall so soon be away -from this place," she said to herself over and over again that evening. -"To think that it is not now days but _hours_ only that have to pass -before we are safe on our way home--dear home, dearest home! I do not -care how angry my darling mother is; I do not care how shocked father -looks; I have deserved it for my headstrong presumption; I only care for -the delight of being safe with them again. And I _don't_ think anything -worse can happen now, so very near our going, and good Mrs Shepton so -on the alert." Her hopes were fulfilled. Nothing more to startle or -alarm the sisters occurred. And if there were any remarks in the -servants'-hall about "Miss Ray's" headache, which again incapacitated -her from coming down to supper or joining in the more or less harmless -gossip which went on at that sociable meal, remarks friendly or the -reverse, Philippa did not hear them. Their early start the next morning -was a reason too for Mrs Marmaduke's coming up to bed betimes, and when -she congratulated her sister on her cleverness in having the boxes all -but ready to lock, Philippa turned to her with a radiant face. - -"Oh, Evey," she exclaimed, "I _am_ so thankful to be going home!" - -"I am sure you are, you poor dear," said Evelyn, tenderly. "It must -have been unutterably dull for you, poked up here by yourself, except -when you were forced to--Pah! I can't think of it--_you_, my beautiful -Phil, sitting at table with a crew of _servants_--common servants." - -"They were not all common," said her sister. "Some, on the contrary, -were very uncommon. I have told you about the dear old housekeeper. -No, as regards that part of it all, I have been really very lucky." - -"Don't talk of it all the same," said Evelyn. "I do not know, honestly -I don't, how I should have got on here without you, but yet I cannot -endure to think of it. I don't think I _could_ have stood it, even when -every one was so nice and I was really enjoying myself, if I had not -resolutely _determined_ to put you out of my mind for the time." - -"You are very fortunate in possessing any power of the kind," said -Philippa, with some amusement at her sister's emphasising of her own -strength of will. - -"Yes," said Evelyn, "it is an excellent thing to possess." - -"It is the thought of being at home again and rid of all this acting and -planning and watching, that I am so happy about," Philippa went on. "I -do really and truly feel as if I never shall want to leave mamma again. -I don't mind if she--" - -It was perhaps as well that Evelyn here interrupted her. - -"Nonsense, dear," she said. "You will get quite different again. You -mustn't give way to such morbid feelings, for _my_ sake even, you must -not, or else I should always have a wretched self-reproach that somehow -I had spoilt your girlhood--though of course it was not my doing. But I -suppose I _might_ have been resolute and insisted on your returning, or -even taken you back myself and telegraphed to them here that I was -delayed." - -"I would not have gone back," said Philippa, stoutly. - -"Well, then, if it wasn't my fault, don't punish me for it by saying -dreadful things. You shall come to Merle-in-the-Wold whenever we get -Mr Gresham's invitation, and enjoy yourself with Duke and me." - -"I would not mind _so_ much if Duke were with us," said Philippa, -doubtfully. - -"Of course not; there would be nothing to mind. And _some_ day, you may -come back here--who knows?" But at this Philippa shook her head. - -"I cannot imagine such a thing; it has grown into a sort of nightmare to -me," she replied, and in her heart she devoutly hoped that circumstances -would combine to delay the invitation to Merle-in-the-Wold indefinitely. -But at nineteen, feelings change. - -With every mile on the homeward road the next day the girl's spirits -rose. And not even the constraint and unusual seriousness of her -mother's manner as she met the travellers at the station, whither she -had expressly come to meet them, could prevent the relief and delight of -knowing herself at home again. - -"I have brought one of your hate and ordinary jackets for you to change -at once," Mrs Raynsworth said eagerly. "They are in the waiting-room -in a small bag with my name on. Run and put them on while I look after -the luggage with Evelyn. I could not risk the servants seeing you in -that masquerade." - -The word stung Philippa. But she knew she had deserved it, and she felt -touched by her mother's thoughtfulness. Two minutes later she stood on -the platform with the others, looking for all the world like the -everyday Philippa, though a trifle paler and thinner than her wont, who -had come to meet her sister on her arrival. - -Evelyn glanced at her approvingly. But by tacit consent no allusion was -made to the transformation, or the circumstances that had led to it, -during the drive home of the mother and daughters in the Marlby fly; and -the elder sister, who, whatever in the way of thoughtfulness she was -deficient in, was certainly not wanting in tact, above all, where those -dear to her were concerned, managed to ward off any painful sense of -constraint by her graphic accounts of her visit and its undoubted -success, intermingled with her delight at "coming home" again, home to -her mother and the darling children. - -"Bonny's cough is better, you say, dear mamma? Oh, then it _can't_ be -going to be whooping-cough. Indeed I have never felt really anxious -about it. I don't see how he _could_ have caught it, with all the care -you have taken of him. I shall have nothing but good news to send to -poor old Duke by this mail. And don't you think I am looking better? I -feel quite different." - -"Yes, dear, I think the bracing air up there must have done you good," -Mrs Raynsworth replied, more brightly than she had yet spoken. - -"It is only poor, dear Phil who is looking pale," Evelyn went on, -leaning forward to kiss her sister as she spoke. They were close to -their own gate by this time. "Mother, dearest," she added, coaxingly, -"I _can't_ tell you all she has been to me, nor how _beautifully_ she -managed everything. You--you and father aren't angry with her? It was -all out of devotion, and after all, my allowing it puts quite half the -blame on to me. For that morning, when she came into the railway -carriage, I was feeling so ill and weak and frightened. I was, in spite -of all, so _thankful_ to see her, that at the bottom of my heart I could -not send her away. Mamma, dear, _don't_ be vexed with her." - -The tears were coursing each other down Philippa's pale cheeks by this -time--some were trembling too on Evelyn's pretty eyelashes. Mrs -Raynsworth was already softened. The sight of the two, the one so -bright and invigorated, the other so timid and evidently apprehensive of -what was in store for her, had already done its work. - -"My poor, dear child," she said, gently, as she held out her hand to her -younger daughter; and Philippa felt herself forgiven. "I can only -hope," she said, "earnestly hope that no harm will ever come of it. I -am quite sure I need not warn you never to do such a thing again." - -Philippa shook her head; she could not speak. - -"We need never allude to it," Mrs Raynsworth added. "Only Dorcas -knows, and she will take care that no one ever hears of it. I cannot -imagine,"--for after all it was impossible not to feel some curiosity as -to how the extraordinary little drama had been carried out--"I cannot -imagine how you managed it. But I daresay we had better try to forget -about it and never mention it again. Your father--" - -"Oh! there he is," exclaimed Evelyn, "coming down the drive to meet us. -And, yes, he has got Bonny with him. How sweet of him! Phil, do look -at them--" - -CHAPTER FOURTEEN. - -CHARLEY'S PLAN. - -But as for "never mentioning it again?" - -Before Philippa fell asleep that night, her mother was in possession of -every detail of all that had happened since they parted. More, for more -of coarse than Evelyn knew, or ever would know. The younger sister was -not one to do things by halves, and when she gave her confidence it was -completely given. She had confided in her mother all her life, and the -longing to do so now, even at the risk of causing Mrs Raynsworth -increased pain and mortification, was irresistible. - -And it was far better so. - -The fact which, naturally, was the most difficult for the mother to bear -with equanimity was that of the necessity which Philippa had felt -herself under of appealing to Michael Gresham. - -"I could not have done it myself," she said; "it came on, you see, -mamma, through his knowing the housekeeper so well. Though what would -have happened if he had _not_ been told, I really do not like to think." - -"He suspected something, then, you think?" said Mrs Raynsworth, -uneasily. - -"Suspected," Philippa exclaimed. "I beg your pardon, mamma, for -repeating your words. Far more than that, he _knew_ there was something -not straightforward about us. And the worst of it was that he thought -poor Evey so double and insincere. Oh, mamma, I _was_ mad to do it." - -Self-blame disarms any kindly judge. Mrs Raynsworth could say nothing -more to add to her daughter's keen regret. On the contrary, she gently -stroked her hand. They were sitting by themselves in Philippa's own -room after Evelyn had gone to bed. - -"We can only hope," she said again, "and, I think we _may_ do so, that -no harm will ever come of it. I am very grateful, truly grateful, to -that good Mrs Shepton, and I should like her to know it." - -"I can write to her," said Philippa, eagerly. "I should like her to see -that I have told you everything, and I can say it all without--without -mentioning names, or anything that would matter if by any accident the -letter were seen. Oh, yes, as far as the housekeeper is concerned, I -have no misgiving or sore feeling. It is that--that Mr Gresham I have -such a horror of ever meeting again." - -"The one that Evelyn liked so much--who has asked you both--Evelyn and -Duke at least," (Mrs Raynsworth interrupted herself hastily, recalling -certain injunctions in the confidences her elder daughter had already -found time to give her as to the "impression" Philippa had made on -Bernard Gresham at Dorriford), "I should say, to stay with him at his -place, the place with the queer name?" - -"No, I don't mean _Mr_ Gresham," the girl replied; "but, mamma, you -need not hesitate. I know he spoke of me to Evelyn and said something -about her bringing me--me in my proper character, of course," with a -somewhat rueful smile. "And, if it had not been for all this, I daresay -I should have liked to go. Evelyn says he is charming. But it is not -_he_ I am afraid of meeting again; he suspects nothing; as I told you, -mamma, by some lucky chance he never caught sight of me once at -Wyverston, and at the end, you know, when there was that risk of his -travelling with us, I strongly suspect his cousin put a stop to it on -purpose." - -"That was kind of him," said her mother. "It shows you can trust him." - -"Oh, yes, he is a gentleman, of course, and Mrs Shepton says he is very -kind-hearted and everything good. But, oh, mamma, I have a perfect -horror of ever seeing him again; I felt so--so _degraded_, when I had, -as it were, to throw myself on his mercy. You cannot think what it felt -like," and she shivered slightly. - -Mrs Raynsworth did not at once answer. She seemed to be thinking -deeply. Then she said: - -"Philippa, my child, it will not do any good, or undo what cannot be -undone, for you to allow yourself to grow morbid about it. Put it out -of your mind as far as it is possible for you; you owe it to us all to -do so, now that there is nothing more to explain, and that all is -forgiven. Promise me that you will try to do this." Philippa sighed -deeply. - -"Yes, mamma, I will try. I know it is the least I can do when you--papa -and you--are so very, very good to me," her voice trembled a little. "I -will try. But do promise me, dear mamma, that if the question comes up -of my going to Merle-in-the-Wold with Evelyn and Duke--they are sure to -go some time or other--you will help me to get out of it? _That_ is not -morbid." - -No, under the circumstances, Mrs Raynsworth could scarcely call it so, -as nothing was more probable, almost certain, than that Michael Gresham -would be one of the party at his cousin's. Under the circumstances, -however, she much doubted if Evelyn's zeal for a visit to Merle would -hold good, though this opinion she kept to herself. - -"I will promise never to urge you to do anything as painful to you as -this idea seems at present," Mrs Raynsworth replied. "And perhaps," -with a little sigh--for unworldly though the mother was, it could -scarcely be that Evelyn's glowing description of the master of Merle, -and the evident "admiration at first sight" which her sister had aroused -in him, had made no impression on the maternal imagination--"perhaps -your instinctive dread of meeting the younger Gresham again is well -founded." - -"I am sure of it," said Philippa, in a tone of relief. "And, oh, mamma, -there is one thing we--I--should be glad of, and that is that Charley -did not come here while we were away. Of course," (as had been the -case) "his last letter--the last before we left--showed it was unlikely; -but everything unlikely seems to have happened to me! And I could not -bear him to know what I did--he would be furious." - -"Yes," Mrs Raynsworth agreed, "I am afraid he would be. And I see no -reason why he should ever hear of it. We took care not to let Hugh; and -Leonard know where you had gone. I just told them that you had gone -away again unexpectedly for a few days. I believe they had some vague -idea that you had been summoned back to Dorriford." - -And after that first evening, though with no definite _parti pris_ on -the subject, Philippa's eccentric escapade was practically buried. - -Circumstances greatly helped to bring this about. For the very next -morning came the looked-for news of Charley's definite return--a return -"for good," as his people had got into the way of calling it. He was to -stay at home, indefinitely at least, working at the special branch of -literature which he had made his own, and in which his father's advice -and experience were of great value to him, and acting at the same time -as Mr Raynsworth's secretary, thus relieving his younger sister from -the somewhat onerous duties of the last year or two. - -"Tell poor old Phil," he wrote, "that she is to have a regular -right-down good holiday at last, to be idle and frivolous, and taken up -about her clothes like other girls. She's not had fun enough in her -life, and it's time she had some now. With Evey being at home, surely -we can plan something of a change for Phil? We must talk it over when I -get back. I have a few pounds by me that I have managed to get -together, and I am determined to spend them on her." - -Philippa's eyes glistened when her mother read aloud her brother's -letter, but though she smiled, her face was a little sad. - -"I know what would be best," said Evelyn, "if only we were sure of -Duke's coming next month! I am to let Mr Gresham know whenever it is -quite settled; then he will invite us to Merle, and on the way there, at -least we will _make_ it the way there, Duke, and Phil, and I will stay a -few days in London, and I shall choose two or three of the prettiest -dresses you ever saw, for you, Phil." But Philippa did not respond to -the proposal. - -"I count that I have had my holiday," she said. "I enjoyed the visit to -Dorriford exceedingly, and I shall enjoy having Charley more than -anything. Don't ask me to leave home again. Mamma," with an appeal in -her voice that was new to the self-reliant Philippa, "you won't, will -you?" - -"Nobody will want you to do anything you don't like, my dear child," her -mother replied, reassuringly. "That would be a strange use to make of -poor Charley's thoughtfulness." - -And Philippa's face grew calm again; she could depend upon "mamma." - -"Besides," said Evelyn, "you needn't work yourself up about a thing that -may not come to pass for ever so long. Duke _may_ not get home till -next year. And I think it's not very nice of you, Phil, to be so -lugubrious about a plan I only thought of for your sake. You might -understand that I would like to do something to--to make up a little, as -it were, for all you went through for me." - -Evelyn's voice grew tremulous, and her pretty eyes were dewy as she -finished speaking. In a moment Philippa was kneeling beside her--her -arms flung round her sister in a close embrace. - -"Evey dear, you might understand," she whispered. "Mamma does. I have -got nervous about it all. But don't think me ungrateful. I shall be -quite right again soon, and it will be so nice to have Charley at home. -He will cheer us up; he always does, and I am sure Duke _will_ get back -before Christmas, at the very latest." - -Evelyn kissed her in return, and the little cloud melted. Still -Philippa felt very glad when her brother's arrival brought a diversion -and a still stronger certainty that the Wyverston travesty would -henceforth be allowed to sleep in peace. - -How _very_ rarely, how "almost never," do things turn out as we have -pictured them to ourselves? How the misfortunes which we foresee and -prepare to face disappear; how wholly unexpected difficulties and -complications weave themselves about our unwary feet till we scarcely -dare to risk a step! "If we had but known," "if I had had any idea of -this happening," "ifs" without end, and better disregarded. - -The unexpected came to Philippa Raynsworth this winter, though not -altogether in painful guise, and she found, as so many of us do, that -she had expended fears and misgivings in quite unnecessary directions. - -Charles Raynsworth was the eldest of the family, and the only plain -member of it. He had none of Philippa's graceful stateliness, nor -Evelyn's charm of manner and appearance, some traces and promise of all -of which were to be found in the two younger boys--handsome Hugh and -blue-eyed Leonard. But no one of the five brothers and sisters was more -loved and trusted by the other four than the insignificant-looking head -of the party. For the insignificance began and ended with his outward -appearance; he was far above the average in every other direction; -intellectually gifted and possessing, in addition to undoubted talent, -the "genius" of perseverance and steady application; honest and -straightforward like all his family, unselfish and with a power of -sympathy unusual in a man. No wonder that "Charley's" home-coming was -the best of good news. - -And for a day or two the pleasure of all being together again shed a -rosy hue over everything. Charley was in such request that he had -scarcely time to think. If he were not closeted with his father in the -study, he was button-holed by his mother in the drawing-room; if he were -not in the thick of the boys' pets--feathered, guinea-pigs, and all the -rest of them--admiring, advising, and doing his best to make sense of -Hugh and Leonard both talking at once, he was pretty sure to be in the -nursery, with Bonny riding on his shoulder, or listening to Evelyn's -maternal raptures over baby Vanda's attempts at conversation. It was -not till he had been some days at home that he one morning waylaid his -mother and drew her out to the front of the house for a stroll up and -down the gravel drive. - -"You are not busy, are you, mother?" he said. "You have got your -cook-interviewing and all that sort of thing over for the day, haven't -you? I want a talk with you without being interrupted, as we always are -in the drawing-room, and in the afternoon it is even worse. Next week I -must buckle to work regularly; but for these two or three days I have -been giving myself time to settle down." - -It was a mild day--"mild for November," as one so often hears people say -when that maligned daughter of the year is with us, forgetting how very -often the early days of the month are altogether charming. - -"Shall I get you a shawl?" Charles Raynsworth went on, but his mother -negatived the proposal. - -"I am not the least cold," she said, "and if we keep at this side of the -house it is always sheltered. What is it, dear, that you want to talk -about? Nothing wrong?" and a slight furrow of anxiety made itself seen -between her eyebrows. For the moment, unreasonable though it was, a -fear startled her that possibly--_could_ it be?--was Charley going to -tell her that Philippa's escapade had come to his ears? - -But her son's first words reassured her. - -"Don't look so startled and anxious, mother," he said, eagerly. "No, of -course it's nothing wrong. I only want to take the bull by the horns, -so as to prevent anything wrong coming to pass. Mother, I don't think -my father is looking well--one notices looks, you see, dropping in among -you all from the outside, as it were. And once the idea struck me it -made me watch him; no, he is not what he was last year, I am quite sure -of it. He is overdone. I can see that he has been working too hard." - -Mrs Raynsworth drew a long breath. This was not what she had feared, -but it startled her. She grew rather pale. - -"Charley!" she said. - -"Don't looked so appalled, mother," he said, reassuringly. "I have not -the least fear of there being anything seriously wrong; if I _had_ had, -of course I should have done something else--spoken to a doctor or to my -father himself before frightening you. But I am perfectly sure it is -overwork only; he should have a holiday--a holiday and a change. And -that brings me to the second head of my discourse. Phil isn't looking -well, either. I believe the two of them have been buried in that study -far too much and for far too long together. I should have been here at -home some months ago, but it was impossible, so there is no use going -back upon that. What I want now--" - -But Mrs Raynsworth interrupted him. - -"I daresay you are right about your father," she said; "but as to -Philippa, I don't know; she has had some change this autumn. There was -the visit to Dorriford, you know, which she enjoyed very much, and--" - -But in his turn Charles interrupted, fortunately so, perhaps, for Mrs -Raynsworth was beginning to feel very guilty. - -"A week," he said, "a week or ten days at most--what's that? Oh, no, -she needs much more thorough change than that sort of thing. She has -grown nervous, mother, that is what I have noticed, for it is so unlike -her. She changes colour for nothing and starts if one opens the door -suddenly. No, I am sure I am right about them both, and this is what I -want you to help me to manage. Father and Phil should go abroad -together this winter for three or four months. They would enjoy it -thoroughly. Phil has never been out of England, and father can take her -over some of the old ground he knows so well. It would be new life to -him. Phil is so intelligent, you see, and would enter into all that -interested him," and Charley's commonplace greenish-grey eyes lighted up -with eagerness till they looked almost beautiful. He was nearly -breathless, as he stopped short in the path and stood facing his mother. - -She could not but be infected to some extent by his enthusiasm, but Mrs -Raynsworth was eminently practical. - -"My dearest boy!" she exclaimed. "Yes, I agree with you; nothing could -be more delightful for both your father and Philippa," and as she named -her younger daughter there flashed through her mind the special benefit -to the girl of such a complete change of life and surroundings at the -present time; "nothing," she repeated, "could be better. But, Charley, -you forget--the ways and means!--and your father's work. We should -never persuade him to leave it." - -"He need not do so; at least, I mean to say, it need not suffer," said -the young man. "I have gone into all that part of it already since I -came, without my father's finding it out. He can quite well leave his -work at its present stage to me--he said so himself. And the time I -would give it need be no more than I could give to him if he were here. -I can quite fit it in with my own work. The only thing father must do -is to defer starting on his new book for a few weeks, and all the better -if he does so. He would gather some fresh material if he was in Italy, -and--" - -"But--but--Charley--there is the money part of it." - -Charley's fair, freckled face flushed. - -"_That's_ all right," he said. "You know, mother, I wrote that I had -saved a few pounds--saved and made, I should have said. Well, to cut a -long story short, the few pounds have turned out more than I expected. -I have a hundred, a clear hundred, mother, ready for this scheme of -mine. And a hundred pounds will go a long way with two people like my -father and Phil; he knowing the ground so well, and she so economical -and managing as I know she is. Besides, once my father made up his mind -to go, he would no doubt put something to the hundred." - -Mrs Raynsworth, well as she knew her son, was greatly touched. - -"My dearest boy," she said again, "I cannot tell you how good I think it -of you to have planned such a thing. But I fear your father would never -consent to take your money--your own earnings." - -Charley laid his hand on his mother's arm and drew her forward again. -It felt rather chilly standing still. - -"My dearest mother," he said, as they resumed their stroll, "leave that -to me. How can you think such a thing, when you remember all my father -and you have done for me? Stinting yourselves, and even, indirectly, my -sisters too a little, to give me the best of educations. It is all -thanks to that that I am now where I am, certain of earning my own -livelihood at the very worst, and with every reasonable prospect of -greater success. Leave it to me, my dear mother; only promise me to -back me up when I have broached the idea with both my father and Phil." - -The promise was given and acted upon. For the more Mrs Raynsworth -thought over her son's idea the more it commended itself to her. And -the verdict of the doctor--an old friend who knew him well--whom Mr -Raynsworth appealed to with the expectation of his pronouncing the -proposed holiday, however agreeable, by no means a necessity, decided -the turning of the scale. The benefit to Philippa herself was not made -prominent, though in her heart the mother was almost as glad of the -proposed scheme for her daughter's sake as for her husbands. But -Charley was not without his reward. The glow of pleasure which -overspread the girl's face at the first mention of the plan made her -brother determine that it should be carried out, and Philippa's -misgivings that it would be "selfish" and wrong to leave home for so -long, and that "mamma" should profit by Charley's generosity rather than -herself, were overruled by her father's assurance that no one except her -brother could be as useful to him as his already well-trained little -secretary. - -Circumstances in other directions too added their influence. Captain -Headfort telegraphed his arrival by the next mail but one, and under the -new aspect of things it became much easier to arrange for his making his -headquarters at Greenleaves--the Raynsworths' home--with his family for -the first few months of the year, during which his eventual plans were -to be decided. - -"I _could_ not have gone away with any sort of comfort, Phil dear, you -see," said her mother. "And as it is, I shall really enjoy the time at -home with Charley and Duke, and helping Evelyn to settle what to do, and -with _no_ anxiety about your father on my mind. I think everything has -fitted in beautifully." - -And on the whole, Evelyn's sentiments agreed with her mother's, though -she could not help sighing in private when alone with Mrs Raynsworth -over the downfall of her castle-in-the-air. - -"I shall not care to go to Mr Gresham's in the least without Phil, even -if he asks us now," she said, disconsolately. "I suppose I must write -to tell him that Duke is really coming, as I promised I would. And, of -course, I will tell him that my sister is going abroad. But ten to one -before the winter is over we shall hear he is going to be married; men -are just like that, even when they do fall in love at first sight, as I -shall always firmly believe he did." - -"Still, anything is better than for Philippa to get out of health in any -serious way, or to lose her spirits and nerve," said Mrs Raynsworth. -"And there is no doubt, Evey, that that wild affair has had a strange -effect upon her; it seems to have been almost a shock to her to realise -_how_ wild and rash it was, and how disastrous its consequences might -have been. I doubt very much, Evey, if she would have agreed to go to -Mr Gresham's." - -"It would have been very absurd of her to have been afraid of it," said -Evelyn, impatiently. "He never saw her at Wyverston, she allows that -herself. And as for the other one--Michael Gresham--I don't suppose his -cousin has him very much at Merle; they did not seem very specially -friendly. Besides, he only saw her in the railway, and with those -horrid spectacles on. One does not remember every person one meets in a -railway carriage. Phil will get quite morbid if she is so fanciful." - -"That is why I am so glad for her to have this complete change," said -Mrs Raynsworth, quietly. - -CHAPTER FIFTEEN. - -MAIDA AT FAULT. - -So, after all, the hobgoblin of a visit to Merle melted into thin air, -as often happens with the things we dread the most. Not that, in this -case, there was do element of disappointment to Philippa mingled with -the very relief she was so grateful for. She had a distinct curiosity -about Evelyn's hero, and a decided wish to see him again, and when, some -two months or so later, a letter with the date of "Merle-in-the-Wold," -reached her in her wanderings with her father, she felt it undoubtedly -regrettable that she could not, without misgiving, look forward to -joining the Headforts in their next visit there, as her sister alluded -to. - -"You cannot think what a _perfect_ place this is," wrote Evelyn. "Duke -was not very eager to come, so soon after arriving and before he had -settled down at all, he said. He _is_ such an old bachelor; he has -fallen back into all his fussy methodical ways with being two years away -from scatter-brained me. But now he is quite as much in love with it -all as I am, and is talking of looking out for a little house somewhere -hereabouts, if he decides on leaving his regiment. And he likes Mr -Gresham very much; at least he says, as everybody must, what a charming -host he is, though I don't know that he appreciates him _quite_ as much -as I do. But he likes talking to him about Wyverston and the Headforts. -And oh, by-the-by, the old squire has written _so_ cordially to Duke, -as soon as he heard of his arrival. We are to go up there for a week -whenever the worst of the winter is over, etc, etc." - -And in a postscript she had scribbled: "Michael Gresham is not here, and -his cousin says very little about him. I always told you that I was -sure they were not so very intimate. Mr Gresham has just begged me to -say that the next time we come he hopes _you_ will accompany us, though -he scarcely dares flatter himself that you can remember him." - -Philippa smiled a little as she read the last words. - -"Well, perhaps," she said to herself, "perhaps I may go there some time -or other without any misgiving. It will be curious if I never come -across Solomon's master again. He _was_ kind, after all, though rather -gruff about it. And I am sure he is to be relied upon. But the -_feeling_ of being there with him, knowing that he knew, and that he -knew I knew he knew! Oh, it would be insufferable." - -She made a gesture as if to shake off the very thought of such a thing. -But her nerves and spirits were fast recovering themselves. Charley's -plan had been a grand success. Mr Raynsworth and his daughter had -enjoyed themselves to their heart's content--nor had they been idle. -Philippa had taken her part in all her father's researches and -explorings, for the new book he had in view dealt largely with the -history of the old Italian towns which they had been staying at, one -after the other, since leaving home. - -Three months fled only too quickly. At the expiration of that time, -just as they were deciding, not without reluctance, that they must turn -homewards--for with all the good management in the world money develops -very slippery qualities in travelling!--a letter from Cannes somewhat -altered their plans. It was from Miss Lermont, with whom, since her -visit to Dorriford, Philippa had kept up a regular correspondence, so -that Maida was quite _au courant_ of her young relative's whereabouts. - -The Lermonts had been spending the winter, or a part of it, in the -south, and now, by her father's and mother's request, she wrote to beg -Mr Raynsworth and his daughter to join them in their villa for two or -three weeks. - -"I do not see why we should not do so," said Mr Raynsworth, "I should -like to see something more of the Lermonts, and the quiet time would -enable me to arrange my papers and notes a little better than it has -been possible to do so far. They seem all right at home--eh, -Philippa?--and you would like a week or two with Maida?" - -"Very much, very much indeed," his daughter replied. - -So it came to pass that it was not at Dorriford, but in the sunny south -that Philippa met again the friend she had already learnt to prize. - -"You are changed, Philippa," said her cousin, the first morning when -they were strolling about in the pretty garden of the Lermonts' villa. -"Changed somehow, though I scarcely can say how." - -"Am I?" said the girl, "and yet it is only six months, barely that -indeed, since you saw me last." - -But she _was_ changed, and the consciousness of it made her colour -deepen, even though she knew how much more cause for her remark Maida -would have had, had they met before Philippa's winter in Italy. - -"I know, that is what makes me notice it the more. One expects to see -change at your age after an interval of a year or two--I counted you -scarcely grown-up when you came to us last year. But in six months! -No, I can't quite make it out." - -"What is it?" said Philippa, lightly. "Am I fatter, or thinner, or -paler, or what?" - -Miss Lermont looked at her scrutinisingly, which did not tend to -increase the young girl's composure. - -"No," said the elder woman at last, "it is not in that sort of way so -much--though you _are_ thinner, rather thinner, and perhaps a little -paler. Nevertheless you have grown still--prettier," checking herself -in the use of a more imposing adjective. "I am not afraid of telling -you so, as I know you are not the _least_ conceited. But you have -changed otherwise. You are not _quite_ as bright and self-reliant as -you were--you look anxious every now and then, and sometimes you are -rather absent. Tell me, my dear child, have you fallen in love with any -one?" - -It was the greatest relief to Philippa that Maida's kindly -cross-questioning should have turned in this direction. For even if she -herself had thought it well to take Miss Lermont into her confidence as -to her adventures, she was not free to do so, Mrs Raynsworth having -bound her down to tell no one the story without first consulting -herself. The laugh, therefore, with which the young girl prefaced her -reply was quite natural and unconstrained. - -"No indeed," she said, "I can't fancy myself falling in love with any -one unless I were very sure that the person in question had first fallen -very thoroughly in love with me. And--I can scarcely picture such a -state of things as that." - -"Naturally," said Miss Lermont. "I don't think any girl--not a girl -such as you are, at least, dear Philippa--_can_ picture it till it comes -to pass." - -Philippa hesitated. - -"I mean more than that," she said. "I do not feel as if I were the sort -of girl a man is likely to care for in that way. I am not--oh, not -yielding, and appealing, and all that sort of thing. There is something -of a boy about me. Long ago, when I was a tiny girl, the nurses used to -tell me I had no `pretty ways.'" Maida could not help smiling at -Philippa's self-deprecation. But as the girl looked down at her--Miss -Lermont was by this time established in her invalid-chair, her cousin -standing beside her--with a certain wistfulness in her expression, it -struck the elder woman still more strongly that Philippa _was_ changed, -softened and somewhat saddened. Her present estimate of herself was far -less correct now than a few months ago. "You forget," Maida replied, -"that tastes differ as to human beings' attraction for each other, -luckily for the peace of society, more widely than in any other -direction. It is not every man, by any means, whose ideal woman is of -the type which _you_ evidently think the most winning. But all the -same, my dear child, you are much more--`womanly,' shall I say?--less -self-confident and gentler than you were at Dorriford. _Something_ has -changed you. Don't you feel conscious of it yourself?" - -"Growing older perhaps," said Philippa, trying to speak lightly. But it -was impossible for her to be anything but genuine with Maida. "No," she -continued, with a sudden alteration of voice, "I will not talk nonsense. -I know that I have changed; you are very quick and discriminating to -have found it out, and I wish I could tell you all about it. But I -cannot, not at present at any rate. So don't let us talk any more about -it. I do want to enjoy this delightful place and weather and _you_ to -the very utmost." - -She sat down beside her cousin and looked at her with what she meant to -be a perfectly happy smile. But somewhat to Maida's surprise the pretty -mouth was quivering a little, and there was a suspicious glistening in -the deep brown eyes. - -"My dear child!" Maida exclaimed, impulsively, her anxiety increasing. -"Can you not--" - -"No, dear," Philippa replied to the uncompleted inquiry, "I cannot -explain anything. But there is nothing to be anxious about--really -nothing." - -"Only tell me," Miss Lermont persisted, "this trouble, whatever it is, -or--" - -"It is quite over," said Philippa. - -"Or has been, then--have you had to keep it altogether to yourself? -Have you been unable to confide in any one?" - -"Oh, no," Philippa replied. "They all--at least Evey and papa and -mamma--knew about it, and _mamma_ knows everything, yes, _everything_. -And if she had known I was to be with you, here, I daresay she would -have wished me to tell you; at least I think she would have done, but-- -but--I am not quite sure. After all, it isn't anything very dreadful, -only it opened my eyes to my own self-will and presumption, and I don't -feel as if I ever could trust myself again." - -"Poor dear," said Maida, tenderly. "Remember it is not the `thinking we -stand' that keeps us from falls. I am quite happy now I know that your -mother knows it all, and whether you ever tell me the whole or not is a -matter of no consequence. Put it out of your head, dear, and let us -enjoy this treat--for a treat it is to _me_." - -"And most certainly to me, too," said her cousin, affectionately. "I -had no idea Cannes was so charming, Maida." - -"It has been an exceptionally good winter, even for Cannes," said Miss -Lermont. "Lots of people we know have been here. Almost too many -sometimes, as I am so stupidly easily knocked up and mother has bustle -enough at home all the year round. Now, the visitors are dropping off a -little, but we know a good many of the so-called residents. That is to -say, the people who have permanent houses here which they inhabit for -four or five months of the year. By-the-by, Philippa, did you not see -the Bertrams when you were at Dorriford?" - -"Yes," Philippa replied, "I did. But they are not here?" - -There was the slightest possible--so slight that at the time Miss -Lermont thought her ears must have misled her--inflection of anxiety in -the girl's tone as she made the inquiry. - -"Here--yes indeed, very much here," Maida replied. "Captain Bertram and -Lady Mary, and all the five children, and an army of governesses, and -nurses, and maids, and horses, and grooms. They are very rich, you -know. And they have had friends visiting them or coming to be near -them, all the time, several of whom we knew, so that has helped to -extend our acquaintance here. Oh, yes, by-the-by, that Mr Gresham, -`the silent man,' as we called him, is staying with them now. He has -just arrived; do you remember him one day at Dorriford? I had forgotten -about it, but he asked me when he called with Lady Mary, if I had heard -from you lately, and--" - -Philippa interrupted her. - -"Evelyn and Duke have been staying with him," she said, speaking with -studied deliberateness; "that must have reminded him of me, as Evey is -far too fond of talking about me." - -She did not turn away as she spoke, and her whole manner was peculiarly -calm, but to Miss Lermont's amazement the colour surged up into her -cheeks, leaving them again as suddenly--she herself apparently -unconscious, or determined to appear unconscious, that it was so. - -Maida felt completely taken aback. She was not of an inquisitive frame -of mind, and was eminently unsuspicious when she had once learnt to give -her confidence. But she was very observant by nature, and as has been -already mentioned, in her peculiar, semi-invalid life, the post of -spectator had often fallen to her, and she had come to feel great -interest in the affairs of her neighbours--interest which in an inferior -class of mind might have degenerated into love of gossip. And aware of -this danger, Miss Lermont was specially careful to keep her concern for -"other people's business" well within bounds, even where conscious that -real affection and sympathy prompted her. - -So for a moment or two she hesitated before putting to Philippa the -question that most naturally rose to her lips. Then an instant's -reflection showed her that the refraining from so simple an inquiry -would of itself suggest some possibly annoying suspicion. - -"Have you never seen him again, then? Somehow his manner seemed to -imply that he knew more of you than that one afternoon's introduction, -when he did _not_ distinguish himself by either `feast of reason or flow -of soul.'" - -Before Philippa replied, her cousin _felt_ that she hesitated. Yet -nothing could be more straightforward than her reply when it came. - -"I have never met Mr Gresham since that day at Dorriford," and the -substitution of the vaguer participle for the more definite "seen," did -not catch Miss Lermont's attention. Yet her perplexity increased. - -"She _did_ change colour when she heard his name and she _was_ uneasy -when she heard of the Bertrams being here," thought Maida. "Yet I know -she is not only truthful, but candid. The very way she told me there -was something she _could_ not tell, shows it. Can it be merely that her -sister has got it into her head that Mr Gresham would be a good -_parti_, which I suppose he would be, for her sister, and that some -hints of hers have annoyed Philippa? She _is_ almost morbidly -sensitive, I know. I suppose it must be that." - -But feeling the girl's eyes fixed upon her, she hastened to reply to her -last words. - -"You are pretty sure to meet him _here_" she said. "There is scarcely a -day on which we do not see or hear something of the Bertrams. So we -shall have an opportunity of finding out if our silent friend can talk -when he chooses to do so." - -"But you have had an opportunity of that already, have you not?" said -Philippa. "Did you not say you had seen Mr Gresham since his arrival?" - -"Yes, the day before yesterday, but only for a few minutes. He did -talk, I must allow. He found time, as I said, to ask if I had heard -from you lately. He _may_ have said something of Evelyn and her husband -having been with him, but if so, I did not pay attention. He is -certainly a very handsome man, and the Bertrams think everything of him. -I suppose he is made a great deal of, and if he is a little affected -and spoilt, it is excusable." - -"Did he strike you as affected?" said Philippa. Now that she had got -over the first start of hearing Mr Gresham's name, she had pulled -herself together and regained her composure. After all, it was not -_Michael_; and when she recalled that quite recently she had been -contemplating the possibility of accompanying the Headforts before very -long on another visit to Merle, she realised the inconsistency of -shrinking from meeting her sister's late host in the present easy and -informal circumstances. "I don't think I can take Evelyn's account of -him quite without a grain of salt. She seems so fascinated by him." - -"And your brother-in-law?" said Maida. "I always like to hear a man's -opinion of a man, as well as a woman's." - -"Oh, yes, Duke likes him very much, I think," said Philippa. "He would -not appreciate his charm of manner as Evelyn does, very possibly. Duke -is a regular man, something of a boy about him, don't you know, a little -too rough and ready, perhaps. Then Evelyn knows Mr Gresham better. -She saw a good deal of him at--at Wyverston," and Philippa suddenly -stooped to pick an innocent daisy looking up in her face from the grass -at her feet, only to fling it down again impatiently, poor daisy! - -Why had she mentioned Wyverston, she asked herself; why trench quite -unnecessarily on ground where she could not be open and communicative -with her friend, as she loved to be? - -"I am a perfect idiot," she thought, and again the expression on her -face struck Miss Lermont as unusual. - -"At Wyverston," she repeated. "_The_ Headforts' place. Oh, yes, I -remember your telling me in your very first letter from home about -Evelyn's going there. But you never said anything more--as to how the -visit went off and if she enjoyed it. You were not very well about that -time, if I remember rightly. I think your mother wrote and said so?" - -"I don't think there was much the matter with me," said Philippa, "but -mamma was a little anxious. They will think me looking brilliantly well -when I go home after this splendid holiday, I am sure. You were asking -about Evey's visit? Yes, she enjoyed it very much, and it was a great -success. She took to the Headforts and they to her wonderfully." - -"Then," began Miss Lermont, "but don't answer if it is indiscreet of me -to ask, do you think the old man is going to recognise your -brother-in-law as his heir and--to treat him accordingly?" - -"We don't quite know," said Philippa, "and after all, as Duke says, -there is no hurry _to_ know. The squire is not a very old man, and he -must be wiry to have lived through the shocks he has had. He knows -nothing almost of Duke except by hearsay, though there is nothing but -good to hear of him. All he has said has been to express a wish that -Duke should give up India and settle down at home, and he worded it as -if he meant to help him to do so. Of course we shall know more after -they have met." - -"Will that be soon?" asked Miss Lermont. - -"Yes, I believe Evey and he are going north very shortly after we get -back," said Philippa. "And they are taking the boy, Bonny, with them. -The Wyverston people have specially invited him." - -"I think that all looks very promising," said Maida. "You would be very -glad for your sister not to have to go abroad again, would you not?" - -"_Very_," said Philippa, heartily. "It would be the greatest comfort in -the world; even if they had to go to live in the north, it would seem -delightful after India." - -"Is Wyverston a pretty place?" said Maida, but she checked herself -almost as she said the words. "Of course you have never been there, so -how could you know." - -"Evelyn thought it a fine place, a good comfortable old house, though -with nothing very striking about it, except, perhaps, the contrast with -the great lonely moorland, on one side at least, round about it. There -is something very impressive about moorland--so grim and yet pathetic," -said Philippa, half dreamily. Her eyes seemed to be gazing on the scene -she suggested; and it was so. At that moment, instead of the sunny -terrace, with the orange trees in their green tubs, and down below, the -blue Mediterranean gleaming sapphire-like in the sun, with overhead the -deep, all but cloudless sky, she was picturing to herself the cold grey -morning aspect of the far-stretching lands on the east of Wyverston. -She felt the very wind on her cheek, the breeze "with a flavour of the -sea," as the Headforts were fond of saying; she saw the tops of the -trees in the pine woods to the left, and then emerging from their shade -she seemed again to catch sight of the long smooth body of poor Solomon, -ready to wriggle with pleasure at her approach. And Solomon's master in -his rough tweed suit and honest, kindly face--yes, it _was_ an honesty -kindly face--not far behind! What a pity--what a pity that he had come -to think so poorly of her; there was something about the man that made -her feel he would have been a good and steady friend. She could have -learnt to like him. If ever--but here she was startled back into the -present by Maida Lermont's rallying tones. - -"_Philippa_," it said, "for the third time of asking! The thought of -the moors up there in that bleak north seems to have bewitched you. Has -Evelyn such graphic powers of description, for you have never been there -yourself? What are you dreaming about? I spoke to you three times -without your hearing me." - -Philippa turned to her cousin. - -"I _was_ dreaming about the moors; the moors and the pine woods," she -said simply. "It is not necessary to have seen places to think about -them, is it I often feel as if I knew all about scenes and countries I -have even _heard_ but little of; do you not feel so, sometimes? When I -was little I used to fancy I must have seen places in my dreams--in real -dreams, I mean, not daydreams." - -"Yes," Maida agreed. "I think I have had the same fancy. And what is -almost as curious is the way in which the slightest association brings -back scenes that we had practically forgotten. A word, or a touch in a -picture, or very often with me a scent or smell, is like magic. I find -myself recalling certain events, or remembering minutely certain scenes -and perhaps people that I had not thought of for years and years. It -does seem as if what we are so often told must be true--that we do not -_really_ forget anything. But I think, dear, we must be going in; the -sun gets very hot on this terrace. We shall drive a little later, and -there is some plan about meeting the Bertrams--going there to afternoon -tea, I think. So we shall probably see Evelyn's hero." - -CHAPTER SIXTEEN. - -SUNSHINY DAYS. - -The Bertrams were the most hospitable people in the world. Wherever you -came across them, in London, or at their own rambling country-house, in -a villa at Cannes, or on board a dahabeeyah on the Nile, it was all one. -They were always delighted to see you, and uneasy till you promised to -stay with them indefinitely, or, at least, to come to luncheon or dinner -as long as you were within hail. - -And all this in spite of a constant amount of things to see to, none of -which were neglected by her, and very far from robust health on little -Lady Mary's part! Her Irish ancestry explained a good deal, said some, -"Irish people are _so_ hospitable, you know," As if the virtue in -question was an inherited quality for which no credit was due to the -possessor. "Her kind heart," for sorely no kinder heart ever beat, had -something to say to it, said those who knew and loved her as she -deserved, among whom Maida Lermont was certainly to be reckoned. - -Yet, notwithstanding the prepossessions in their favour which Philippa -could not but feel, when it came to the actual moment of her following -Mrs Lermont and her daughter into the pretty drawing-room where Lady -Mary was fluttering about among her guests and her children, the girl -could not but be conscious of an exceeding wish that Egypt, or Algeria, -or any other of their various haunts, had this winter attracted the -Bertrams elsewhere. - -For control herself as she would, the thought of meeting Mr Gresham -again, without even the support of Evelyn's presence, made her nervous. - -"Supposing--just _supposing_" she said to herself, "that he _did_ see me -at Wyverston, or that his cousin by some inadvertence had given the -least hint of any secret." - -It was a mistake to allow her imagination to dwell on such -possibilities; but the effect on herself personally was scarcely to be -regretted. For there was a certain timidity and wistfulness in her -manner which had not been there before, and which, in the eyes of one of -those present at least, added greatly to her charm. - -"She is even lovelier than I thought," said Bernard Gresham to himself, -"and she has lost that touch of the girl-of-the-day self-confidence -which jarred a little." - -For the first time they had met, that autumn afternoon at Dorriford, -Philippa in her cheerful inexperience had taken it for granted that the -handsome silent man was probably "rather shy," and had exerted herself -to "draw him out" in consequence. - -Two or three other women entered the room almost at the same moment as -the Lermonts and their young cousin. And the names were not clearly -announced. But Mr Gresham from the farther side of the room "spotted" -Miss Raynsworth at once, and managed cleverly to place himself in her -way as she turned, with some little uncertainty of bearing, from shaking -hands with her hostess. He was far too much a man, not only of the -world, but of drawing-rooms, to run any risk of making her or himself -conspicuous, yet he was resolved at once to take the place which he -intended to hold while the fates left Philippa in his vicinity--that of -a former acquaintance. So he would ask for no fresh introduction, but -stepped forward with quiet matter-of-fact ease to greet her. - -"How do you do, Miss Raynsworth?" he said. "You arrived yesterday? I -knew you were coming, as I had a letter from Mrs Marmaduke Headfort two -or three days ago." - -He brought in Evelyn's name purposely, being in his heart slightly -doubtful of the girl's immediate recognition of him, little dreaming of -the familiarity to her of his whole personality among the guests she had -so often watched from Evelyn's window at Wyverston! But even without -that, she would have known him again. - -She looked up with her pretty, half-startled eyes, a slight pink rising -to her cheeks, as she held out her hand. - -"You have heard from Evelyn more recently than I have done, then," she -said. "Were they all well? Did she give you any `family'"--with a -smile--"news?" - -Mr Gresham was inwardly triumphant. How well he had managed this first -introductory move! Nothing could have happened better than the whole -combination of events. Here, at Cannes, a few days would be worth weeks -elsewhere; the life was so much less formal, the opportunities of -meeting so much more frequent and less observed. He would have ample -time in which to judge further of this girl, whose strong individuality, -whose "uncommonness" had even at first sight so attracted him, _ferre a -glace_ though he believed himself, and that not altogether without -reason, in such matters. - -So he at once stepped on to the platform which his own tact, and -Philippa's simplicity, and circumstances, the accidental isolation in -which she momentarily found herself for one, had erected. - -"News," he said, pleasantly; "oh, dear, yes, any amount. The actual -reason of my being honoured with a letter just now was that Mrs -Headfort thought it would interest me, which it certainly does, -extremely, to hear that she and Duke are going up to Wyverston next -week." - -Philippa's eyes sparkled. - -"Are they really?" she said. "I had not heard of it. At least I knew -that they were to go some time or other, but I fancied not till I-- -father and I, I should say--were home again." - -She was so interested that all her constraint and self-consciousness -disappeared. Nothing could have suited Mr Gresham better. His -superior information from Greenleaves put him in the position of being -applied to by Miss Raynsworth, and set her and himself at once on -friendly and almost confidential relations. - -He glanced round. They were still both standing, and near Lady Mary, -who was eagerly talking to Miss Lermont, and not noticing any one else's -movements. There were no seats close at hand, but some tempting wicker -lounges stood just outside on the balcony, on to which opened the long -low windows. - -"Won't you come outside?" said Mr Gresham. "It is crowded in here; and -then I can glance through what Mrs Headfort says." - -So within five minutes of the dreaded entrance into Lady Mary's -drawing-room, Philippa found herself seated most comfortably beside the -very man whose presence had been the cause of her nervous misgiving. - -No one could have reproached Mr Gresham with "silence." He exerted -himself to the utmost, without seeming to do so in the least; he talked, -though not too much; he made the girl forget everything (little as he -suspected that there was anything for her to forget) except the present -pleasant intercourse. For he believed that all the opportunity he -wished to obtain for himself depended upon this first _tete-a-tete_, -and, however he might hereafter judge it expedient to alter or modify -his tactics, he had no doubt as to the advisability of his present -exertions. - -Maida Lermont, from the couch which was quickly provided for her in a -corner of the room, started with surprise when she heard her young -cousin's peculiarly pretty and musical laugh ring out, as some half-hour -or so later, Philippa, followed by Mr Gresham, made her way back into -the drawing-room, and looking round for her special friend, drew forward -a low chair to Miss Lermont's side. - -"She used to laugh like that at Dorriford," thought Maida, "but it is -the first time I have heard it here. And it is Mr Gresham who has made -her look so bright and happy? Yet she has only seen him once before, -and I am sure she was rather nervous about meeting him--I cannot make it -out." - -But if--and this possibility she would doubtless, if taxed with it, have -indignantly denied--_if_ any shadow of misgiving as to Philippa's -ingenuousness momentarily crossed her mind, it was dispelled the instant -the sweet face approached her own, as the girl said, in a somewhat low -voice: - -"Isn't it nice! Mr Gresham has given me such good news of them all at -home, especially about Duke and Evey; they are going--but no, I must -wait to tell you all about it afterwards," and here Mr Gresham, who had -half heard, half guessed the drift of her words, interposed with the -gentle considerateness which marked his bearing to the invalid Miss -Lermont: - -"Shall I get you a cup of tea, or an ice, or whatever you would like -best?" he said. "I can easily bring it here--it is all in the next -room." - -"Thank you, thank you very much," Maida replied. "Yes, I should like -some tea and a sandwich very much.--And you, Philippa, you have had -nothing?" - -"I will go and get something for myself when Mr Gresham brings your -tea," said Philippa, and the young man noted her words approvingly. -This was not the sort of girl, he thought, to care to have a man--or -"_the_ man" would probably have more accurately described his thought-- -dragging about after her in any conspicuous way. No, there was no doubt -of it, she was a type apart. And he smiled to himself, half -apologetically, at the idea that, after all his several years' -experience of society, and the caution with which he had steered his way -amidst manoeuvring mammas and scarcely less sophisticated daughters, he -might be about to fall a victim to the common malady--to find himself, -if he did not take care, as genuinely in love as any Henry Hawkins of -the people! - -But the very candour with which he realised the possibility, showed that -so far he had himself well in hand. And well in hand he intended to -keep himself. For it would be a complete mistake to suppose that this -was in any sense a case of "love at first sight." Mr Gresham had long -vaguely intended to marry, if--a great "_if_"--he came across the woman -who completely satisfied his fastidious taste, and seemed likely to -prove the realisation of his ideal. An ideal, not perhaps of the very -loftiest, but admirable enough so far as it went. "She" must be endowed -with all the orthodox and specially feminine virtues and graces; she -must be refined and "unworldly"--to insure, indeed, the last -qualification, he was prepared to sacrifice some amount of conventional -"style" or "fashion;" that indescribable touch of finish which tells of -a certain position in the world of the day. The very words employed to -define it, testifying to its variability and intangible characteristics. - -He did not wish for any great preponderance of brains or culture. There -were times when Miss Raynsworth struck him as having been too severely -educated for his standard. Femininity was his _sine qua non_. So long -as a little Greek and Latin, some notion of mathematics even, did not -unduly harden or stiffen a woman, he would not exactly object to them, -though any approach to obtrusive learning he strongly deprecated. But -Philippa was too unaffected, too self-forgetful, to jar him by any such -putting forward of her acquirements--acquirements which, in contrast -with the real learning of her father and brother, seemed to her, as -indeed they were, but the merest sips of the "spring." And above all, -he was so sure of her perfect propriety--there was no slightest taint of -"fastness" or "loudness," or any such horror, in this irreproachable -girl, no love of eccentricity or Bohemianism, no possibility of mad -escapades turning up in which she had taken a part! - -"No," thought the master of Merle, "there could be no risk--no risk -whatever in it. Of course, people would be surprised at the marriage, -but what do I care for that! Everybody knows," and he smiled half -cynically; "everybody knows that my possibilities of choice have not -been restricted." - -And this was certainly true. - -Nor would it be fair to accuse the young man of fatuity, inasmuch as he -was little troubled by any misgiving as to his personal acceptability to -Miss Raynsworth, should he decide to go through with his suit. He had -every possible grounds for believing in it; he knew himself to be -attractive and good-looking far beyond the average; he believed himself -also to be affectionate and endowed with all the qualifications for -making a good husband (though he did not add, "to a wife who would see -everything through his eyes and have no will but his"); and so far--for -this _resume_ of Mr Gresham's views of the whole situation is somewhat -ante-dated--that is to say, as the day drew near for Philippa and her -father to leave Cannes, he had no reason to doubt that the young girl -liked his society, and was in a fair way to feeling still more attracted -by him. - -This fortnight in the beautiful south was propitious in the extreme to -pleasant projects. The weather was faultless, and not as hot as is -sometimes the case, even early in the spring. The circle of residents -and visitors, to whom the Lermonts had come temporarily to belong, -seemed specially anxious to make the last weeks of their southern -sojourn agreeable. Scarcely a day passed without some plan being set on -foot for diversion or amusement in which even Maida could take part, and -few, if any, guessed how many of these were really skilfully initiated -by Mr Gresham, who was well aware that it would have been of little use -to try to decoy Philippa away from her cousin. - -So there was no question of balls or large evening parties for the girl. -Such would have been quite out of her father's line; nor could she have -expected Mrs Lermont, quietly congratulating herself that such -exertions for herself were over, to have begun again the arduous duties -of chaperon. One exception only in this direction was made, and that -was in the case of a large private dance on the very eve of the -Raynsworths' departure, at which kind Lady Mary Bertram set her heart on -Philippa's appearing. But before this there had been gaieties, or what -seemed such to the young girl, in constant succession, and such as she -had little dreamt of taking part in when she left home. - -Her letters to Evelyn described fully all that was going on, and -Evelyn's spirits rose high. - -"Nothing could be better," she said to her mother, just as she herself -was starting with her husband for Wyverston. "Now, mamma, was I _not_ -sensible when I made you get and send her those two new dresses, as soon -as we heard of the Cannes visit?" - -And Mrs Raynsworth could not but agree with her. "I don't suppose it -could ever have occurred to Mrs Lermont to give her the pretty blue -evening-dress Phil is so pleased with, _unless_ she had arrived with one -or two decent things. It would have been just like her and papa to say -they had nothing but travelling clothes with them, and could go nowhere -and see nobody. I cannot tell you how delighted I am for the poor dear -to have some fun at last. And," she added to herself, "to see something -of Bernard Gresham," though she dared not say this, in so many words, to -her mother! - -Picnics were among the favourite amusements of the moment at Cannes, and -picnics on the luxurious scale that these were carried out were new to -Philippa, whose only experience of out-of-doors entertainments was a -holiday tea-drinking in the Marlby woods, when one old donkey carried on -his back the whole material part of the repast. After two or three of -these expeditions she found, it is true, that they began to pall a -little. Still, it was always a pleasure to be with Maida, especially in -the charming surroundings of lovely scenery and weather; and, more, -probably, than she would have allowed herself to own, never did Mr -Gresham show to greater advantage than on these occasions. His tact was -wonderful; without making her or himself in the least conspicuous he yet -succeeded in giving her the feeling that she was never forgotten, that -her amusement and enjoyment were his first consideration, and that once -satisfied that these were insured, his own pleasure was complete. _No_ -girl, certainly no girl of Philippa's sensitive and responsive nature, -could have been unconscious of this subtle and delicate consideration; -to her, singularly free from vanity in any form, unspoilt and unselfish, -there was something almost intoxicating in this refinement of homage. - -Spots of interest, either by reason of their own beauty, or sometimes -from historic association, now and then indeed combining both, were -usually chosen for the scene of the picnics. - -One of the last to which the Lermonts and their guests were bidden was -given by Mr Gresham himself, and he had bestowed much thought and -consideration upon its locality. - -Nor were his labours unrewarded. It proved to be one of the most -successful parties of the season, and but for an incident which -momentarily affected Philippa unpleasantly by recalling events which the -last fortnight, with its sunshine and distractions, had almost ended by -banishing from her memory altogether, the day would have been one of -unalloyed enjoyment. - -The picnic was to be at an old chateau a few miles off. An old -"manor-house," with remains of the domestic fortification necessary in -those turbulent medieval times, would perhaps better describe it. For -it had never been large, and now one part of it had fallen into -picturesque ruin, while the remainder had been not unskilfully restored, -more strictly speaking, perhaps, kept in repair, without any jarring -modern innovations such as the French _positif_ way of looking at such -things often introduces. - -The chateau had not descended to the rank only of a farm-house, for its -owners, the bearers of a name which would at once serve to identify the -original home of the family, still visited it from time to time. And -during most of the year, with good-nature, not unmingled very probably -with legitimate pride in the old, old home, they allowed any who cared -to do so, to visit it, and wander all over the demesne and the chateau -itself with perfect freedom. - -It lay, however, somewhat off the usual routes of pleasure-seekers, and -was less known than it deserved to be. Maida Lermont had never seen it, -and though her eyes lighted up with pleasure at the idea of a visit, -some doubts were expressed by her mother as to whether the distance and -the reported roughness of the roads would not make it too fatiguing for -her. - -"Oh, mamma," she exclaimed, speaking for once with almost the -disappointment of a child in her voice, "_please_ don't say so. The -Chateau de C---is one of the places I have longed to see ever since we -came." - -Philippa glanced at her affectionately. Maida's "humanness" was one of -the characteristics that attracted her young relation to her so much. -She never, notwithstanding the long discipline of her life, affected to -be above or apart from the natural tastes and interests of those about -her. - -"_I_ won't go, if you don't," whispered Miss Raynsworth, stooping over -Maida. - -But Bernard Gresham caught the words; a slight frown, showed itself on -his face. He was pleased--more than pleased indeed--to gratify Miss -Lermont, whom he cordially liked and admired, but for Philippa to -suggest giving up the expedition for Maida's sake, when she must in her -heart have known that he had planned it all for _her_, was most -annoying. And for the first time he mentally accused Miss Raynsworth of -affectation. - -"She shall see her mistake," he said to himself, "if she takes that line -with me. I shall throw up the whole affair if there is any risk of her -not coming, I should have the Worthings thinking, or the mother -pretending to think, I had got it up for them--how I do detest that -woman! `So kind of you to look us up at once; you know we were only -here _en passant_,' when I didn't know they were here at all, and cared -less." But a moment after, the sound of Philippa's sweet voice speaking -in half-appealing, half-coaxing tones to her hostess, made him glance -round from the window whither he had turned to hide his annoyance; and -Mrs Worthing and her iniquities faded from his mind as if they had -never existed. - -"I really think, Mrs Lermont," he said, "that the risk of over-fatigue -for your daughter can be guarded against I shall look out for a -specially easy carriage, and we can take our time about it and drive -slowly if Miss Lermont prefers. We shall not be at all a large party, -and nearly all, people who know each other well--the Denvers and Maxtons -and one or two more--the only strangers a mother and daughter who have -just arrived, whom I suppose I _must_ invite, friends of the Wyverston -Headforts, by-the-by," he added, turning to Philippa. - -But for once the name of Wyverston foiled to catch her attention, so -engrossed was she in the question of Maida's joining the picnic. - -"Yes," she said, speaking with reference to the first part of Mr -Gresham's speech, of which he felt instinctively that she greatly -approved, "yes, dear Mrs Lermont, I really am _sure_ it would do Maida -no harm. We should all take such care of her, and you would be there -yourself." - -"Of course," said Mr Gresham, cordially, "I am counting on you and Mr -Lermont, and Mr Raynsworth; I think the touch of antiquarian interest -about the chateau may be a lure to him, may it not?" with a glance at -Philippa. - -"I have no doubt it would be," she replied. "But I will _make_ him come -whether he cares about the fifteenth-century tower still standing or -not," said Philippa, laughingly. - -"Miss Raynsworth, Miss Raynsworth," said Mr Gresham, "you have been -`reading up,' and you will come out with your learning to shame us all." - -"That would be so like Philippa!" said Maida, touching the girl's -shoulder affectionately. "But, mother, we are waiting for your -decision," for Mrs Lermont had not spoken again. - -"Silence gives consent," said Philippa, and as her hostess only smiled, -so her reply was interpreted. - -CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. - -"RENCONTRES." - -Morning broke over a cloudless sky the day of the expedition to the -Chateau de C---, the last but two of the Raynsworths' sojourn at Cannes. - -Philippa woke with that vague sensation of something pleasant to come, -which in youth at least--and let us hope in a modified degree in later -years too--is almost as familiar as its converse, that sad awaking from -temporary forgetfulness when the memory struggles in spite of itself to -remember "what it is that is wrong." - -There was only one touch of "wrongness" to cloud the girl's happy -anticipations, and that was the knowledge that this delightful holiday -time was so nearly at an end. - -"But I am not going to think about that--not to-day, at least," she said -to herself as she dressed. "I am going for once to live entirely in the -present." - -And these laudable resolutions she repeated in her light-heartedness to -her host for the moment, Mr Gresham, some four or five hours later, -when, already arrived at their destination, for, to avoid the heat of -the day, they had made an early start, at his request, she was spying -the land, otherwise the grounds of the old house, with him in search of -the best place for _dejeuner_. - -He commended her resolution warmly. - -"And after all," he continued, "in many cases--or some, at least-- -pleasant times--I am more honoured than I can express by your -considering to-day one of them--are only the precursors of others as -agreeable. Let us hope that it may be so in our case. I am determined -to get the Marmadukes over to Merle again before long, and this time I -trust you will be able to accompany them." - -"I should like it very much indeed, thank you," said Philippa, "if--" -but her sentence was never finished. - -Almost as the "if" formed itself on her lips, a sudden pallor crept over -her face, and she started slightly. - -Mr Gresham looked up in surprise. - -"Have you twisted your ankle?" he was beginning to ask, when he caught -sight of one or two of the servants who had followed in a _char-a-banc_, -and who were now busily unpacking the provisions, just emerging from the -courtyard, as he and Philippa passed the entrance. And one of these, a -middle-aged woman, unexceptionable in appearance as a superior maid, to -his surprise stopped short, as if about to accost his companion. - -"Miss Ray!" she exclaimed; "you here!" were the words that he thought he -heard. And the two first, seeming so like the beginning of Philippa's -name, would probably not have struck him curiously--the woman might have -been a former servant of the family's for all he knew--but for the -familiarity of the ejaculation that followed, a familiarity so -unmistakable that he instinctively glanced _past_ his companion as if in -search of the person to whom they were addressed, so impossible did it -seem to him that the woman was speaking to Miss Raynsworth. - -But there was no one else behind or near themselves. And again he saw -that Philippa's face was still very pale, though she walked on rather -more quickly than before, taking not the very slightest notice of the -person who had spoken. And she on her side, after throwing a curious -glance in Miss Raynsworth's direction, in like manner passed on with her -two or three companions. - -"Did that woman speak to you? What did she say? Is she insane?" said -Mr Gresham, in a tone of annoyance. - -Philippa turned to him with a slight smile, but her lips were quivering -a little. - -"She--she certainly startled me," she said. "I am afraid you will think -I have no nerves at all. It is absurd to be so easily startled." - -"But she said your name, or something like it," persisted Mr Gresham. -"What could she have been thinking of?" - -"I--I don't think she said my name," replied Philippa. "She must have-- -have taken me for some one else." - -Her companion felt strangely annoyed. There was something about Miss -Raynsworth's manner that he could not define. In spite of her having -been so visibly startled, she did not seem "natural," scarcely, in a -sense, surprised at this curious incident, almost as if she were too -absent-minded to have taken it in! Then a new and more agreeable -explanation of her nervousness occurred to him. What had they been -talking about just at the moment they met the woman? Yes, Miss -Raynsworth was in the act of answering what he had said about her coming -to Merle, perhaps that was it; perhaps, and the thought touched him with -a certain tenderness, at that moment it had flashed upon her for the -first time that he was beginning to care for her specially; that it was -not every girl he would show himself so anxious to meet again; no wonder -it was rather bewildering and startling. She was so unsophisticated, so -free from vanity and that detestable _aplomb_ of young women in society! -Mr Gresham felt satisfied that he had hit the right nail on the head. - -So though he muttered something about "impertinence," "how could any one -make such an extraordinary mistake," his annoyance at the incident -gradually subsided. Only for a moment or two it was in danger of -reviving, as Philippa, shaking off her dreaminess with an effort, looked -up quietly and inquired with perfect calm: - -"Who was that person? Do you know her by sight?" - -"I have an idea that she is Mrs Worthing's maid," he said. He wished -Philippa had let the thing drop; its vulgarity spoilt the idyllic charm -of the scene, and the day, and his new thoughts about herself. "I -remember her teasing me to let the woman come--she was so useful at -helping on these occasions, and so on. And she was walking with Lady -Mary's servants. But what does it matter? I shall take care that you -are not annoyed again. How _could_ she have imagined you any one but -yourself?" with a rather forced laugh. - -"Oh," said the girl, reassuringly, "at the first glance one does not -notice--dress, and that kind of thing. My _face_ must have reminded her -of some one she knew. Do not say anything about it to any one, I beg of -you; it would be making the maid of far too much consequence, I assure -you. And if her mistress is a friend of yours, it might--might possibly -lead to some annoyance." - -"You are far too good-natured," he replied. "However, I daresay you are -right. It would be making the woman of too much consequence to speak of -it to Mrs Worthing. Not that the Worthings are special friends of -mine. I had to ask them, though we should have been more the sort of -party I wished without them. But I agree with Michael about Mrs -Worthing." - -Another shock for Philippa; somehow this was the first time that his -cousin's name had been mentioned to her by Mr Gresham. And after all, -what did it matter? She must get accustomed to hearing Michael Gresham -spoken of, even perhaps to meeting him if--if her present companion were -to become a permanent friend. It was only unlucky just now, startling, -to have that name brought on the _tapis_ when she was already upset and -discomposed. And to-day, when she had meant to be so happy! - -But she must not be so weak-minded. And with this determination-- -impelled too, half unconsciously, by the strange fascination of a -subject she would fain avoid--she looked up at Mr Gresham inquiringly. - -"Michael?" she repeated. - -He smiled. - -"Oh, I forgot," he said. "You don't know the family archangel? I have -got into the habit of imagining that you know all that your sister does -about--about myself and my home interests. Not that old Michael is -exactly a part of my home, except by old association. He is my cousin. -We were brought up together, more or less, but there is not any very -great amount of common ground for us to meet on. He is--ah, well, a -very good fellow in his own way, but rather a bear--doesn't shine in -society--in fact, it and he know very little about each other." - -"Why so?" asked Philippa. She was nervously anxious not to seem to -avoid the subject of the younger Gresham, and even more so to prove to -herself that she had completely mastered her uneasiness. And she was -not free from curiosity about Michael, both as to himself and as to the -light in which Bernard regarded him. "Are you joking," she went on, -"when you call him `the family archangel,' or do you really mean that he -is very, remarkably good?" - -"Honestly," said Mr Gresham, "I don't quite know. Good things are not -necessarily the most agreeable, are they? Rather the other way -sometimes. Oh, yes, Michael's very good, a model of steadiness and -industry and all the rest of it, but not distinguished by suavity and -charm of manner. He lives so out of things, you see." - -"Is he a misanthrope, then?" asked Miss Raynsworth, her curiosity -increasing. - -Mr Gresham hesitated. He was a very truthful man, and prided himself -intellectually as well as morally on his accuracy. And Philippa's -question revived some old memories. Michael a misanthrope! Who would -ever have associated such a word with the bright-faced schoolboy of not -so very many years back, or the young fellow going up to college with -everything this world can give him in the present and the future? And -then the change; the shock of finding on his death that the father he -had so honoured had for years deceived him and his too confiding mother, -the clouded name, the broken-hearted widow, who had no strength to rally -even for her boy's sake; the transference to Bernard, the son of a -younger brother, of the inheritance which, but for his father's -misdoings, would at least in some part have been his! No, by nature -assuredly Michael was no misanthrope, but if circumstances had conspired -to make him one, would it have been a thing to wonder at? - -But all this the elder cousin had no wish to explain to the girl beside -him. Still he was loyal, and his face had grown graver as at last he -turned to reply: - -"No," he said, "it wouldn't be fair to call him that. He's had--he's -had troubles enough to sour him, and he's not soured. And--oh, well, to -give him his due, he has been a bit of a hero in his time." - -Philippa looked up quickly. She had never liked Mr Gresham so much as -at this moment. And some instinct told him so. - -"I cannot tell you all about it," he said. "He would not wish it, even -though you do not know him. But I can give you some idea of it. He -gave up great advantages for himself for the sake of clearing the name -of one whom he had little reason to sacrifice himself for. _I_ think it -was quixotry, and so do many others, except--well, yes, there was -another element in it, the peace of mind of one very dear to him. He -was very young; I doubt if he realised the grind of a life he was -bringing upon himself." - -"Has he to work so hard, then?" the girl inquired. "If so, I scarcely -see that he can be reproached with keeping `out of things,' as you say -he does." - -There was a touch of reproach in her tone now, which her companion did -not approve of. - -"Oh, as to that," he said, airily, "it's a matter of temperament, and -personal idiosyncrasy. Many very busy men find time to mix in society. -But Michael's a bear; there are only two individuals in the world that I -would care to assert that he loves--individuals, not people, for one is -a dog." - -"And the other?" said Philippa. - -"The other is an old woman," said Mr Gresham. Miss Raynsworth said -nothing, but probably she thought the more. Something in her -companion's manner gave her the impression that he did not wish to -prolong the conversation in its present direction. And just then an -exclamation impulsively escaped her. They had turned a corner sharply, -in their progress round what had once been the ramparts of the little -fortress, and below them lay a charming view--for the chateau stood on -high ground, though the ascent to it was so gradual that one hardly -realised its importance. - -"How lovely!" she exclaimed. - -"Yes," Mr Gresham agreed, "this is one of the attractions of the place. -I wanted to surprise you--it bursts on one so suddenly," and he began -to point out to her the landmarks of interest to be more or less -identified from where they stood. - -"Don't you think," he added, in conclusion, "that this smooth bit of -grass here would be our best dining-room? The view would give people -something to talk about and quarrel over--no two would agree as to what -places can be seen and what not, if other topics of conversation fall -flat." - -So the stretch of old turf--as much moss as grass, perhaps, but none the -less charming on that account--was decided upon for the luncheon. And -after all, the day turned out a pleasant and amusing one for Philippa, -in spite of the shock of the unlucky "rencontre." In the interest of -talking about Michael Gresham; apart from all personal feelings in -connection with him, she had forgotten her nervous dread of him. More -than once during the day, his cousin's remarks about him, vague as they -had been, recurred to her memory. - -"I wonder what it was he did, or sacrificed, to make Mr Gresham speak -of him as `a bit of a hero,'" she thought. - -He was once alluded to in her hearing in the course of the day, and that -was by Mrs Worthing, whom Philippa recognised as one of the visitors -whom she had often caught sight of from her watch-tower at Wyverston. -Mrs Worthing was the type of woman whom one is pretty sure to meet in -any "society," using the word in the narrowly conventional sense. She -was of indefinite age and appearance, well-dressed and well-bred, an -affectionate though somewhat tyrannical mother, to an, for these days, -unusually submissive daughter. There was a papa Worthing too, who -appeared in orthodox fashion on orthodox occasions, such as his wife's -dinner-parties and receptions, but he was a very busy man, and, apart -from his own line, uninteresting. So when "the Worthings" were alluded -to, it could be taken for granted that the mother and daughter only were -meant. - -Aline Worthing was undoubtedly pretty, and, so far, her blue eyes were -without the hard metallic light which was often to be seen in her -mother's. But she was by no means a clever or original girl. Mrs -Worthing, of better birth than her husband, came from the north, not far -from Wyverston, and old family associations had been kept up to some -extent between the Headforts and herself. It was at Wyverston that she -had first met the Greshams. - -She spoke graciously to Miss Raynsworth when the young girl was -introduced to her, a certain reflection of the Headfort lustre being -associated with Mrs Marmaduke's sister. But there was a touch of -condescension, not to say patronage, mingled with the graciousness, -which made Philippa doubly glad that her meetings with the mistress, as -well as the maid, were not likely to recur. - -"I have met your sister, I believe," said Mrs Worthing. "We were -staying at Wyverston when she came there last autumn; her first visit -there, you remember," she went on, turning to Mr Gresham. "It must -have been quite an ordeal for her, without her husband too." - -"First visits to new relations must always be something of an ordeal for -a bride," said Maida, quickly and rather thoughtlessly, for she detected -the covert impertinence. - -"Ah, but you see, it was not exactly that," continued Mrs Worthing. -"You could scarcely call Mrs Marmaduke Headfort a _bride_--she has two -or three children. And, but for my poor, dear friend's terrible -sorrows, the connection is not a very near one--only second cousin-ship -or something of that kind." - -"My brother-in-law's father was Mr Headfort's nephew," said Philippa, -quietly, determined not to be suppressed. - -Mrs Worthing held up her hands in smiling deprecation. - -"Oh, dear, dear," she said, "that is beyond me. It reminds one of -`Dick's father and John's son.'--Aline--where is Aline?--can you unravel -it? Aline is so good at riddles." - -"And I maintain," said Maida, smiling too, and absolutely ignoring Mrs -Worthing's latter remarks, "that my cousin was certainly in the -_position_ of a bride; possibly you are not aware, Mrs Worthing, that -the Marmaduke Headforts went out to India immediately they were married, -and Evelyn only came home comparatively recently." - -"Your cousin?" repeated Mrs Worthing. "Dear me! I am all at sea. I -did not know you were connected with the Headforts." - -"Nor are we," said Mrs Lermont, "but Mr _Raynsworth_ here," with a -pleasant glance in his direction, "is my husband's cousin." - -"We are getting quite into a genealogical tree," said Mrs Worthing, -"and I _am_ so stupid at that sort of thing. I never know who people -are or to whom they are related or anything like that. And I don't -care. _I_ like people for what they _are_, in themselves, you know. -Mr Worthing says I am a regular Socialist--like _your_ cousin, Mr -Gresham--that dear eccentric Michael and his dog." - -"I must set you right on two points, I fear, Mrs Worthing," said -Bernard, gravely. "Michael is not a Socialist, and his dog is not my -cousin." - -Everybody laughed--even Aline Worthing. Her mother did not like it, but -she pretended to think it an excellent joke. And Mr Gresham saw with -gratification that the Lermont connection had "told." - -"We shall have no more bald impertinence from her," he said to himself, -"but she won't love Philippa any the better for having been the indirect -cause of a snub. I had a presentiment that these people's coming would -somehow or other spoil the day. Even that madwoman of a maid of theirs -daring to think of accosting Miss Raynsworth in that extraordinary way!" -and his face darkened with annoyance as he recalled the incident which -somehow still hovered uncomfortably about his memory. - -Maida Lermont, ever alert and ever kind, noticed the touch of constraint -in the air. - -"What about the dog, Mr Gresham?" she said, brightly, "the dog whom you -will not acknowledge as a member of your family? I should like to hear -more about him--dogs always interest me, and I know few whose -relationship _I_ should not consider an honour. Is your cousin's dog -specially ugly or evil-minded or vulgar?" - -"Vulgar," ejaculated Aline Worthing; "how funny you are, Miss Lermont! -Who ever heard of a _dog_ being vulgar?" - -Philippa's eyes gleamed and she opened her lips impulsively as if about -to say something. How she longed to "speak up" for dear Solomon! - -Mr Gresham ignored Miss Worthing's remark. - -"Ugly," he repeated, meditatively. "Yes, his ugliness is his beauty. I -don't mind that. He, the animal in question, Solomon by name, is a -thorough-bred dachshund. `Evil-minded or vulgar'--no, Solomon must be -acquitted of those charges. And to begin with, I never said I should -not consider it an honour to be his blood-relation, if you remember. I -only stated the fact--that I was _not_ his cousin." - -He looked up lazily, and again everybody laughed. And Mrs Worthing, -whose good-humour had returned by this time, proceeded to amuse them all -by various anecdotes illustrative of the eccentricity of the dachs and -his master. - -"They are quite inseparable," she added. "Last year at Wyverston you -never saw one without the other. We used to meet them coming home from -long rambles over the moors, the dog generally a few paces in front of -the man, both looking so solemn and--so ugly." - -"Mrs Worthing," said Mr Gresham, drily, "you must pardon my reminding -you that the animal's master is my cousin." - -No one was quite sure if he was annoyed or not, but Mrs Worthing -laughed. She was not without some gift of repartee. - -"Then," she said, "you must allow _me_ to remark that the family -likeness is not striking." - -And Philippa fancied that the implied compliment was not altogether -distasteful to her host. - -Aline Worthing was sitting hear her. From time to time she had made -feeble efforts to catch Miss Raynsworth's attention--there was something -about Philippa which attracted the weaker girl--but hitherto without -success. She now tried again. - -"Do _you_ think Mr Michael Gresham so very ugly?" she said, in a low -voice. "Mamma is always saying so. I don't think I do--there is -something rather nice about his face. But, oh,"--as she caught sight of -the astonishment, which an acuter observer might have described as not -unmingled with alarm on her hearer's face--"I forgot, you were not at -Wyverston. I suppose you don't know the other Mr Gresham?" - -"It was my sister who was staying there last year," said Philippa, -evasively. - -"Yes, I know. Mrs Marmaduke Headfort. She is very pretty, though not -the least like you," said the girl, simply, her thoughts already -diverted from the consideration of Michael's personal appearance; "But -it is so odd," she continued, "I have such a feeling that I have seen -you before. And to-day, as soon as that visit to Wyverston was spoken -of, I seemed to have seen you there. I suppose it is through knowing -that Evelyn Headfort--she let me call her Evelyn--is your sister." - -"Perhaps so," said Philippa. Then anxious at all costs to set this -troublesome little person's little mind at rest, she went on. "Perhaps -Evelyn spoke about me to you. She is rather fond of doing so." - -"Yes, I daresay it was that," said Aline. "She did talk about you. I -remember somebody said that she and I might be taken for sisters, and -that made her say that her sister and she were not at all alike." - -"Oh, Evey," thought Philippa, "rash is no word for you!" But aloud she -said kindly, for something in the childish creature touched her: "Yes, -you are both so fair, and your hair and eyes are just about the same -colour." - -Aline smiled with pleasure. And there was no flattery in what Philippa -had said. She was certainly a very pretty little thing, though without -a touch of Evelyn's charm of mind and originality. - -And for the rest of the day she attached herself so steadily to Miss -Raynsworth that Mr Gresham wished more devoutly than ever that he had -restricted his party to its original limits. - -CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. - -A TORN FRILL. - -The ball to which allusion has already been made, as the one gaiety of -its kind that proved attainable for Philippa Raynsworth during her visit -to Cannes, though a private one, was given at a hotel. And that hotel -was the temporary residence of Mrs and Miss Worthing. - -It came about, therefore, naturally enough that they were among the -guests, though they had not previously been acquainted with the givers -of the dance. For kind Lady Mary Bertram thought it would be "too bad" -for a young creature like Aline Worthing to be actually on the spot, -listening to the inspiring strains, which would probably prevent her -going to sleep, without taking part in the entertainment. So she -arranged that there should be an introduction, followed by a card of -invitation. - -Philippa had heard of the circumstance, but without paying special -attention to it. The evening was not destined, however, to pass without -her having reason to wish more fervently even than heretofore that the -mother and daughter had selected some other route for their journey home -from Italy, than that which had brought them to their present -halting-place. - -She had looked forward to the ball with considerable interest and a fair -amount of girlish excitement, which Miss Lermont was glad to see. It -was only natural and right that Philippa should enjoy herself and should -wish to do so. And this dance was almost a debut for her. In the -Raynsworths' very quiet life, occasions of the kind were rare, and since -Philippa had been really grown-up, for various local reasons the -neighbourhood of Greenleaves had been peculiarly dull. - -Maida herself superintended her cousin's toilet, and the result fully -rewarded her. Philippa had never looked better, and her total absence -of self-consciousness greatly added to the charm of her appearance. She -was frankly pleased with her dress, and delighted that her kind friends -approved of the whole effect, and then she thought no more about it. - -"Of course I do not expect to dance very much," she said to Maida, "and -I hope Lady Mary will not trouble herself about partners for me. It is -not as if we had been here all the winter and knew everybody there is to -know; it is not even as if we lived in the `world' at home, like the -Worthings. Miss Worthing says they have found ever so many old friends -and acquaintances here. But I shall enjoy it quite as much if I dance -very little; it will be all so new to me, you see." - -She did not allow, even to her inmost self, that the knowledge of Mr -Gresham's presence, the certainty that he would not suffer the evening -to pass without spending as much of it as good taste would permit by her -side, had something to do with this foreseeing philosophy of hers. And -Miss Lermont was the very last person to hint at such a thing. - -"I daresay you will have quite as much dancing as you care about, dear," -she said, quietly, "I am sure you dance well; you have the look of it, -and your partners will find that out quickly. Besides," with a smile, -"you must allow something for the charm of novelty. Those other girls -who have been here all the winter have not _that_ advantage over you." - -Philippa laughed. - -"There will be the charm of novelty for me, assuredly," she said. - -And then, as the Bertrams' carriage was announced, she kissed her cousin -affectionately, promising to relate all her adventures in full the next -morning. - -"I am sure she will enjoy herself," said Maida to Mr Raynsworth, as he -came back from putting his daughter into the carriage. - -"I have no doubt of it," he said. "In fact she has enjoyed everything -here. And it is all greatly due to you, Maida. I have never seen -Philippa so bright and light-hearted in her life. And I am most -thankful for it. She deserves to be happy." - -"Yes," Miss Lermont agreed, warmly. "She does indeed." - -And Philippa did "enjoy herself." To her the whole scene was almost one -of enchantment, and she threw herself into it with no misgiving. -Personally, though in her inexperience she did not realise this, she was -a great success, and she had certainly no reason to test the truth of -her prediction that she would be equally happy if she danced little or -much. - -Mr Gresham was her most frequent partner; but from their previous -acquaintance this seemed only natural. And he in no way obtruded the -fact. He had no desire to make any gossip about himself or his affairs -prematurely, and till he had entirely and completely decided that in -Miss Raynsworth he had at last found his ideal, he would have considered -any behaviour calling for such comment decidedly ill-judged and in bad -taste. - -Nevertheless he managed to appropriate to himself a good deal of the -girl's time and attention. And the result of the ball at the Hotel ---, -at which Philippa's bearing and the admiration she excited fulfilled his -best anticipations, was such as to make him all but own to himself that -in Miss Raynsworth he had found something very nearly approaching -perfection. - -The evening did not, however, pass, as has been said, without a sting of -annoyance to poor Philippa. Among the maids deputed to attend to the -ladies in the cloak-room was Mrs Worthing's "Bailey." - -On arrival, the room being crowded and the attendants busy, Philippa did -not notice the maid's presence. But later in the evening a slight -accident happened to her dress, a frill of which was torn. Aline -Worthing was standing near her at the time, and good-naturedly offered -to go with her to have it mended, and without the least misgiving, Miss -Raynsworth thanked her, and went with her to the cloak-room, now -comparatively deserted. - -"Bailey must be here; our maid, I mean," said Aline, glancing round. -She was a little near-sighted. And at the name, Philippa's heart for a -moment seemed to stand still. - -"Oh, pray don't trouble to find your maid," she said, eagerly. "Any one -can do what is required; a few pins indeed are all that is necessary." - -But Miss Worthing, in the sort of enthusiasm she had conceived for her -new friend, was not satisfied with half measures. - -"Bailey! Bailey!" she called, as she caught sight of her attendant at -the other end of the room; "come quick. I want you to mend Miss -Raynsworth's skirt!" - -The woman hastened towards the two girls; but as she drew near them a -curious change came over her face, which had hitherto expressed only -good-natured readiness to attend to her young lady's summons. It grew -hard and almost repellent in expression, with a look in the eyes of -something so nearly approaching insolence that it made Philippa shudder. -Yet Bailey was not a bad or vindictive woman. She was simply one of -her class; perhaps specially prone, as Mrs Shepton had warned Philippa, -to jealousy of any one younger or better-looking than herself, and, as a -not unnatural result of this, to suspicion. - -She smiled slightly as she addressed Aline, but the smile was not a -pleasant one, and she seemed to avoid looking at Philippa, as if she -wished to obtrude her ignoring of her. - -"Yes, ma'am," she said; "what is it I can do? Have you torn your -dress?" and she glanced at Aline's draperies with a kind of affectation -of concern. - -"No, no," said the girl, impatiently, "didn't you hear what I said? It -is Miss Raynsworth's dress that is torn, not mine. Get a needle and -thread and mend it as quickly as you can." - -"Miss--Miss _Ray's_ dress?" said Bailey, slowly; "no, Miss Aline, I did -not understand that Miss Ray was a friend of yours." - -And now, almost as if indifferent whether Miss Worthing noticed her -extraordinary manner or not, she stared hard at Philippa, with the same -half-impertinent, half-contemptuous smile on her face. - -Philippa grew white; Aline grew red with shame. - -"Bailey," she said, indignantly, "what is the matter with you? Are you -going out of your mind? Or have you been asleep and don't know what you -are saying?" - -The maid in her turn reddened a little. She was evidently not -accustomed to be spoken to so sharply, and it mortified her. - -"I did not understand," she muttered, confusedly, and she drew a thimble -and needle-case out of her pocket. "If you will show me--" she began. - -But Philippa by this time had quite recovered her self-possession. -Every nerve in her body tingled with proud indignation. Whether wisely -or unwisely, she felt that there was but one course possible for her to -pursue. - -"She shall not dare to think that I am afraid of her," she said to -herself. - -And she fixed her eyes undauntedly on Bailey with a gesture of repelling -her now offered services. - -"No," she said, icily. "I am much obliged to you, Miss Worthing, but I -should much prefer one of the other maids mending my skirt," and she -turned away and walked slowly across the room to where one of the French -chamber-maids was standing, looking rather astonished at the little -scene, though she had no idea what it was all about. And just for a -moment Bailey felt staggered. _Could_ she have made a mistake as to the -identity of this young lady and Phillis Ray, the maid, whom she had met -and disliked at Wyverston? The very idea frightened her; what _would_ -her mistress say to her if "Miss Aline" told of her rudeness? Bailey's -imagination was well stocked with sensational fiction; she had read of -extraordinary likenesses, leading to still more extraordinary mistakes. -But no, a moment's reflection satisfied her again. There were other -coincidences--here, at Cannes, this girl was figuring as Miss -Raynsworth, sister to Mrs Marmaduke Headfort (for Bailey knew all the -small talk and gossip of the place already); there, at Wyverston, she -had been the same lady's _maid_. There was some mystery, some secret, -and Bailey's sensational novels came in handy again, as suggesting -reasons and clues by the score. She had _not_ made a mistake. - -All this passed through her mind so rapidly that she was quite prepared -with an answer when Aline, waiting an instant till Philippa was out of -earshot, turned upon her again hotly. - -"Bailey," she said, "I am utterly ashamed of you. I do not know what -has come over you, but I warn you I shall tell mamma all about it." - -Somewhat to her surprise, Bailey did not seem impressed by what she -said. Aline was in general very mild and gentle, and Bailey was an old -servant. Miss Worthing would not have dared to speak so strongly to -her, had she not herself for once been really angry, and she was half -prepared for something rude in reply. But the maid answered calmly -enough: - -"Of course, miss, you must tell your mamma what you like. But I shall -have something to tell her too--something that will surprise her more -than anything you tell her of _my_ behaviour. And I take blame to -myself that I have not spoken out before; so particular as your mamma -has always been about you." - -"What do you mean, Bailey? Say what you mean, or I will go straight -into the ball-room and bring mamma here," said Aline, beginning to be -vaguely frightened as well as angry. - -"As you like, Miss Aline," returned the maid, curtly; "but--" - -Aline, glancing round, saw at this moment Philippa, her skirt repaired, -coming slowly towards her. Something in Miss Raynsworth's cool and -stately bearing at once reassured the younger girl, and afraid of the -_possibility_ of repeated insolence on Bailey's part, she hurried -forward to meet her companion. - -"Thank you so much for waiting for me," said Philippa. "I hope you will -not have missed all this dance." - -"Oh, no; I don't mind," said Aline, confusedly. "Miss Raynsworth," she -went on, "I don't know what to say. I don't know how to apologise to -you for Bailey's insolence. I don't know what has come over her, unless -she is going out of her mind. She was never like that before. I shall -tell mamma about it at once." - -"Oh, pray don't," said Philippa. "Do not spoil the evening by anything -disagreeable. Wait till you are in your own rooms afterwards. It is -really making too much of it to say anything to Mrs Worthing at all, -but still I can understand your feeling about it." - -It would be worse than useless she well knew to persuade the girl not to -tell her mother, even could she herself have condescended to do so. For -she now felt little doubt that Bailey would communicate her suspicions, -whatever form they had taken, to her mistress; and any check from -herself as to Aline's account of the strange occurrence would only lower -her position. - -"I can't understand _her_" repeated Aline. "She really looked at you as -if she hated you, Miss Raynsworth. Can she be confusing you with some -one else? Now I come to think of it, she spoke of you as `Miss Ray,' -did she not?" - -"Yes," said Philippa, "I think she did. I daresay she did take me for-- -for another person." - -"There _are_ very strange likenesses sometimes between people who have -nothing to do with each other," said Aline, looking perplexed. - -But by this time they were entering the ball-room, and Mr Gresham, who -had been waiting about the door for Philippa's return, came forward to -claim a dance, and at the same time Captain Bertram asked Aline to make -up a Lancers set with him. So the two girls were separated. Nor did -they meet again, except for a hurried good-bye at the end. - -Poor Philippa, she would gladly have been left by herself for a few -moments, to recover her composure and think over the disagreeable shock -she had just received. For the brave front she had put upon it was only -in appearance; in reality she was miserably upset. - -"You are looking very pale, Miss Raynsworth," said Mr Gresham. "Are -you tired? Pray don't dance if you would rather sit quietly and rest." - -"No, thank you," Philippa replied. "I would rather dance," which, under -the circumstances--"sitting out" only meaning a _tete-a-tete_ with her -partner--was certainly true. "I am really not tired," she went on, -"though I have been dancing so energetically as to tear my dress, you -saw?" - -"That was that clumsy Delmaine's fault," he replied. "I saw how it -happened. I was waiting to catch you as you came back from the -cloak-room. It is all right now, I suppose?" with a glance at her -skirts. It would have annoyed him to find himself entangled in his -partner's torn flounces before the whole ball-room! - -"Oh, yes," she replied. "I got it mended by one of the maids in the -cloak-room." - -The word--or was it an unconscious intuition of what was passing in the -girl's mind?--caught Mr Gresham's ear. - -"Oh, by-the-by," he said, "I wanted to ask you something. Do give me -leave to speak to Mrs Worthing about that insolent maid of hers. I -really think she must be insane. I cannot forget about it, and I do not -think such a thing should be allowed to pass." - -Philippa smiled--had Mr Gresham been more discriminating, her smile -would have struck him as a very bitter one. - -"Oh, dear," she said, "I wonder at your remembering about that absurd -thing. Surely it should be treated as beneath contempt." - -Mr Gresham looked dissatisfied. - -"You might understand," he said, speaking in a lower tone of voice, and -with something of reproach, "You might understand how inexpressibly -annoying it was to me for anything of the kind to happen to _you_; above -all, when you were in the position of my guest." - -He glanced at her with a kind of delicate inquiry in her eyes, and the -accent on the pronoun made Philippa's cheeks flush. - -"Don't mind about it, I beg of you," she said, earnestly. "Promise me -you will not mention it to Mrs Worthing. I scarcely know her at all, -and--and--she might not be nice about it. You have been so kind," she -went on; "you have done so much to add to the pleasure of my time here, -that I should hate to think it could be associated with anything -disagreeable. Please promise me," she repeated, in conclusion. - -He smiled. - -"I am afraid I should find it difficult not to promise you anything you -liked to ask," he said. "Well, then, we will let the matter drop. I am -so glad, so delighted that you have enjoyed your visit here; and if I -have in the very least added to your amusement, as you so kindly say, I -need scarcely assure you that I am repaid a thousandfold." - -Then he went on to speak, in his most attractive way, of meeting again -in England; of Evelyn and her husband; of "Charley," whom he had heard -of and would be so pleased to meet; exerting himself so tactfully to -talk of the things which he knew interested her the most, that Philippa -forgot the painful shock she had experienced, or only recalled it to -make light of her own exaggerated fears. - -"After all," she said to herself, "at the very worst I did nothing -wrong, nothing really to feel ashamed of. And if--if I were ever to get -to know Mr Gresham better--really very well indeed, I could make him -understand it all. Even that rough, surly Michael was kind about it, -and Bernard is infinitely gentler and less harsh judging than he. No; I -need not be unhappy." And that night when she passed Maida's room, of -which the door was slightly ajar, and heard Miss Lermont's voice saying, -softly: - -"Philippa, dear, is that you? Have you enjoyed yourself?" she answered -brightly, as she went in for a moment: - -"Enjoyed myself? I should think so. I have never been so happy in my -life." - -The words and tone gave Miss Lermont much subject for thought. Was this -to be the girl's fate, then? Was she destined to be one of the favoured -few to whom the good things of life come almost before life has really -begun? Was it to be a case of "true love running smooth," one of the -exceptions to prove the rule? It looked like it. And in the eyes of -the world--and that not of the thoroughly "worldly" world either--such a -marriage for Philippa Raynsworth would be not only brilliant, but -excellent in every possible way. - -"Yet," thought Maida to herself, "yet, _is_ he really good enough for -her?" - -Forty-eight hours after the ball saw Mr Raynsworth and his daughter -started on their journey home. - -CHAPTER NINETEEN. - -GOOD NEWS. - -"Well, mother," said Evelyn Headfort, one morning, a fortnight or so -after the return of the two wanderers to Greenleaves, "I hope you are -satisfied _now_ that it was not my fancy about Mr Gresham? I have not -said anything hitherto about it. I thought I would wait till you could -judge for yourself; but I am sure you have had time to hear everything -Phil has to tell by this." - -"But," began Mrs Raynsworth, "if there were anything of that kind to -tell, Philippa would be more likely to tell nothing." - -She smiled a little at her own rather "Irish" way of expressing herself. - -"Of course, mother dear," said Evelyn, with a touch of impatience. "Of -course I know that. What I mean is, that you can _judge_. I don't -dream for a moment that she is the sort of girl to tell even _you_ of -the conquests she has made. But to me--and I don't suppose Philippa has -said as much to me as to you. I have been so busy, you see, getting -ready for Wyverston," for the Marmaduke Headforts were on the eve of -starting for a visit to the north, "and Duke wanting me every two -minutes--but even judging by what she has said to _me_, I feel no doubt -about it whatever. It is in her own hands. He fell in love with her -that first afternoon at Dorriford. I shall always say so." - -"Well, time will show," replied Mrs Raynsworth. She seemed slightly -nervous, or rather disinclined to discuss the subject. But Evelyn, -though a little disappointed, was not suspicious of there being any -other reason for her mother's reticence than Mrs Raynsworth's extreme, -perhaps exaggerated delicacy. - -"I don't know about that," she replied. "There are ways and means of -_preventing_ `time's showing.' It does not do to be a fatalist in such -matters, any more than in any others, mamma. If Phil chooses to--well, -to discourage its going any further, either actively or tacitly, nothing -is easier than for a girl to discourage a man; no one will ever believe -there was anything in it! At least no one would ever be sure that there -had been. I do not call that `time's showing;' _I_ should call it -girl's perversity." - -Mrs Raynsworth hesitated. - -"I think you can trust Philippa," she said. "There is not a touch of a -flirt or coquette about her. If she had real grounds for believing that -any man she felt _she_ could care for, cared for her, she would behave -with simplicity and straightforwardness, I am sure." - -"Perhaps she would," rejoined Mrs Headfort, "but how about what you -call `real grounds?' Short of putting it into so many words, I doubt if -she ever _would_ believe it, and till she did, she would be tacitly -discouraging without meaning it, and then the `so many words' would -never come! It is a vicious circle, when you have to deal with any one -so fantastic as Phil." And to herself she added, "And I do believe -mamma rather encourages it in her. They are both too impracticable." - -Poor Evelyn, she was feeling put out. For she had, to tell the truth, -been putting considerable restraint on herself not to cross-question her -sister. And she had only refrained from doing so in the hope of being -rewarded by a good comfortable "talk over" of the whole affair with her -mother before leaving for Wyverston. - -And Mrs Raynsworth understood her perfectly, and was sorry for her -disappointment. But there was another motive for her own -uncommunicativeness. Philippa had told her _all_ that had happened--the -last annoying "rencontre" with the maid, Bailey, as well as the first. -And the mother's heart was sore--sorer than she would for worlds have -allowed Philippa to suspect. Was this miserable piece of girlish folly -never to be forgotten? Was it to cloud her daughter's life and -prospects always? For Mrs Raynsworth knew the world and society much -better than might have been supposed from her present quiet and almost -isolated life. Her youth had been spent in a very different _milieu_ -from the simple though refined home which was all that her scholarly -husband was able to give her. And she knew how the least breath of -anything against a girl--any, even harmless, piece of fun or -thoughtlessness may be magnified or distorted--above all, where there is -any element of spite or jealousy present--into grotesque, but none the -less fatally damaging proportions. - -"I almost wish," thought Philippa's mother, "that I had not made her -promise never to tell the story without first consulting me. Had she -been free to confide in Maida Lermont, for instance, Maida might have -found some way of telling it to Mr Gresham, simply and unexaggeratedly; -_if_, that is to say, Maida has noticed anything on his side of what -Evey suspects. Maida is very clever and tactful--could I write to her?" -But this idea was dismissed as soon as it suggested itself. It was too -repellent to all Mrs Raynsworth's instincts--as if her child, her noble -Philippa, needed "explaining," apologising for!--not to speak of the, to -such a woman as herself, inexpressible indelicacy of presupposing any -special interest in her daughter, before the man in question had -unmistakably declared it! - -"No," she decided, "I can do nothing. I could _speak_ to Maida, -possibly to her mother. But writing anything of the kind, putting it on -paper, I cannot." - -Perhaps she was wrong. A great many things in this often crooked life -of ours might be put straight if people were less timorous of speaking -out, of their doing so being misunderstood. But for many, life-long -suffering, death of every hope, seem preferable to even the shadow of -indelicacy. And of such were Philippa and her mother. - -And then again came a species of reaction to Mrs Raynsworth, much as -had been the case that last evening at Cannes with Philippa. - -"I am surely after all exaggerating it," thought she, "I am letting -myself get morbid; at the very worst there is nothing to be really -ashamed of in what the foolish child did, and in the _motives_ which led -to her doing it there is much to be proud of. Any man who was worthy of -Philippa, who could rise above conventional notions of propriety where -higher feelings called for doing so, _would_ understand and would -scarcely blame her, though as we--as her father and I do--he might -regret, bitterly regret, that she had been so rash. No; I will not let -myself be unhappy about it, for there is no real reason, and Philippa -would find out if I were so. Her intuitions are so quick and accurate. -And, above all, _she_ must not be allowed to grow morbid about it." - -It would have been an unspeakable comfort to the mother to have confided -the whole story, with its sequence of anxieties and misgivings, to her -eldest son. But this she had deliberately decided not to do. Charley -was so proud of Philippa; he loved to guard her from every touch of -roughness or coarseness, as if she were too good for common life at all; -it might be exaggerated, but it was very sweet and tender all the same, -and his mother could not face the thought of his pain and indignation -did he ever come to know what his sister had done, and the detestable -gossip and comments that even now might result from it. No, Charley -must never know. - -And the unselfish determination to keep her uneasiness to herself made -Mrs Raynsworth even more consistently cheerful than usual, so that -Philippa felt herself justified in dismissing her misgivings, and now -and then, though rarely, for the girl knew the complexities of her own -character and its weaknesses, when few would have suspected them--just -now and then she allowed herself a little day-dreaming, of radiant, -rose-coloured possibilities, whose beauty any more definite picturing -would, to such a nature as hers, have destroyed. - -And some weeks passed, happily and peacefully. Evelyn and her husband -stayed nearly a month at Wyverston, and Philippa enjoyed to the full her -mother and elder brother's society. Little Vanda was no trouble now, -for she was fast outgrowing her delicacy, and the weather was lovely. -And the letters from Wyverston were cheering in the extreme; nothing -could be more satisfactory, wrote Evelyn, than the progressing -friendship between the squire and her husband. - -"They all like him, I can see," she wrote, "and who could help it? Duke -is so good and so simple and single-minded. I feel almost certain -something will be arranged before we leave this, so that we need never -go back to that dreadful India again." - -"Is not that good news?" said Mrs Raynsworth, looking up from the -letter which she had been reading aloud. - -"Excellent," said Philippa, heartily. "I wonder where their home will -be. Does Evey say," she went on, rather thoughtlessly, for Charles was -present, and the subject of her sister's maid was always a somewhat -nervous one, "does she say how Berthe is getting on?" Berthe was a -French maid whom Miss Lermont had found for Mrs Marmaduke Headfort. - -"Very well, indeed," said her mother, consulting the letter afresh. -"Ah, yes, here it is: `Berthe is shaping very satisfactorily. There -have been several inquiries as to why I had parted with--' Oh, yes, -nothing of consequence," Mrs Raynsworth went on, confusedly; "let me -see, what more does Evey say? `I am so extremely glad that Berthe -neither speaks nor understands English at present. It prevents all -possibility of gossip, and--'" - -"Gossip," interrupted Charley; "what can Evey mean? She--we--have no -reason to fear servants' gossip. Surely," and he flushed a little, -"surely Evelyn is not vulgar-minded enough to be afraid of her maid's -talking of the simple way we live--of our not being rich?" - -"Charley!" said Philippa. "How can you dream of such a thing? Of -course not; but Duke's position among his relations is a rather delicate -one. There might be plenty of gossip about it." - -She felt herself crimson as she spoke; she hated herself for the species -of subterfuge she was condescending to, and afterwards she felt that it -had been scarcely necessary. Charley was not of a suspicious nature. - -Her suggestion of a natural reason for her sister's fear of gossip -seemed to serve its purpose. Charley gave a kind of grunt of -semi-apology to the absent Evelyn, and no more was said. - -But later in the day, when Philippa and her mother were by themselves, -Mrs Raynsworth alluded again to the letter. - -"There are one or two things Evelyn asked me to tell you, Philippa," she -said. "One was that, as I knew she intended to do, she managed to pay a -private visit to that good Mrs Shepton, and to give her the little -present I sent her. And she says she had a `charming talk with her,' -and feels so much happier now that Mrs Shepton knows more about how it -all happened." - -"I am sure _I_ was candid enough about it," said Philippa. "I scarcely -see what more there was for Evey to tell." - -"Not much, I daresay. But I think too that it is satisfactory and only -fair to you yourself, under the circumstances, that what you told should -have been, as it were, endorsed by a member of your family. And who so -well able to do it as Evelyn? I know for _her_ own sake, she was -anxious to show Mrs Shepton that she had not joined you in _planning_ -the thing, though she had not resoluteness enough to stop it. And _I_ -am glad for the housekeeper to know very distinctly what your father and -I felt and do feel about it." - -There was a touch of coldness in Mrs Raynsworth's tone, and a slight -inference of reproach which her daughter's tender conscience felt to be -not entirely undeserved. She had not answered as gently as she might -have done to her mother. - -"Oh, mamma," she exclaimed. "Of course I know you are always right and -wise, but somehow any allusion to that--that time at Wyverston makes me -nervous and cross." - -Mrs Raynsworth patted her gently. Philippa had crept up close to her. -Evelyn's letter was still lying open before her. - -"There is a long postscript, I see, mamma," she said. "You did not read -it aloud, did you? Is it anything private?" - -Mrs Raynsworth hesitated. - -"It is and it isn't," she replied. "But of course Evelyn would leave it -to my discretion to tell _you_ or not. She does ask me not to speak of -it to your father or Charley, as Duke wants to tell them himself, once -it is settled. Did you know, Philippa--no, I am sure you did not--that -the Headforts have considerable property in ---shire, not far from that -place of Mr Gresham's, Merle-in-the-Wold?" - -Philippa looked up with interest. - -"No, indeed," she said. "I had no idea of it." - -"Nor had Evelyn; it is natural enough, however, that she should not have -heard of it, for it is not what agents call a `residential estate.' -There was no house. But quite lately the old squire has bought more -land there, and on it there _is_ a small house, a sort of good -farm-house, which might easily be converted into a very charming little -place. And with the increased size of the property he wants some one -there to look after it. _This_ is what he is talking about to Duke; his -idea is for Duke to leave the army and settle down there. They are -talking it over busily, Evey says. Of course, Duke is sorry to give up -his profession, but then, as the squire truly says, there is the future -to think of--his children and--" Here Mrs Raynsworth consulted the -letter. "`He says, too,' Evey writes, `that if Duke's future is to be -that of a country proprietor, the sooner he learns some details of the -business the better. That is the way he puts it, you see--half -jokingly. But he is too kind and good to mislead us. And in many ways ----shire would suit us better at present than farther north. I shall -get quite strong in time, no doubt, but India has tried me, and Vanda is -not too robust either. Phil will remember what a lovely part of the -country it is near Merle-in-the-Wold.' Ah, yes," Mrs Raynsworth went -on, "that shows that she meant to tell you. She adds also something -about Mr Gresham's being such a pleasant neighbour." - -"It does sound delightful," said Philippa, with sparkling eyes. "I do -hope it will be soon decided about I shall have to try to forget about -it, or I shall be able to think of nothing else." - -"It is not likely that we shall be kept very long in suspense," said her -mother, "for Evelyn and Duke will be back in a week, and by that time -they are sure to know." - -Even a week, however, seems to extend itself magically, if one-- -especially if "one" is young and eager--has any great reason for wishing -it over. But the first glance at her sister and brother-in-law's bright -faces as the familiar old Marlby fly drew up at the Greenleaves door -told that all was right, and Philippa's heart rebounded with joy. - -"Isn't it too lovely, Phil?" whispered Evelyn already, as they were -crossing the hall. "Mamma has told you what we have been hoping, hasn't -she? I told her she might, though Duke wanted to tell papa and Charley -himself." - -"And is it really settled, then?" asked Phil; "if so, it _is_ almost too -lovely as you say." - -"Yes, it is settled, quite settled. Duke wrote about retiring before we -left Wyverston. That is the only melancholy bit of it, for he has been -so happy in his regiment, and he loves his work. It was better for him -to do it there--on the spot, as it were--when the _family_ feeling could -keep him up to knowing it was right. Poor old Duke! The squire did so -understand and liked him the better for it, I could see. And I was glad -for them all to feel that there _is_ sacrifice even in his accepting the -position of future head of the house. And--but I must wait till -afterwards to tell you everything. I think I shall have to talk for a -week without stopping, once Duke lets me." - -They were in the drawing-room by this time, where all the others were -waiting to receive the travellers. For the Raynsworths were -"old-fashioned" enough to be a very united family. The comings and -goings of any among them were of interest to the others; their joys and -sorrows were common to all, and Duke Headfort, from his somewhat lonely -and isolated position before his marriage, seemed at Greenleaves, for -the first time, to learn what home life and home affections are. - -And even now, when his own kinsfolk had so unexpectedly made those -friendly overtures to him, and his future position bade fair to be a -prominent and prosperous one, Captain Headfort was far too steady and -loyal to change. - -"_Whatever_ the squire does for me, and however kind and cousinly they -all are," he said to his wife, "I can never but know that the _first_ -reason is that I am a Headfort. They thought little and cared less -about me till fate, in a sense, forced them to do so. And I don't in -the least blame them. It was only natural, and I am grateful to them -now for the kind and hearty way in which they are acting. For at best -it must be terribly bitter to them to see a stranger in their son's -place. But they can never be to me what your people are, Evey. Your -dear people, who welcomed me as a son and a brother, as cordially as if -I had been a duke or a millionaire." - -"Far more than if you had been either one or the other," said Evelyn, -adding, with a smile: "but then, you know, Duke, it was partly for my -sake, because I had fallen in love with you." - -"Well, what is done for your sake only doubles its value in my eyes," he -said. - -It can readily be imagined, in such circumstances, how _very_ good the -good news the young husband and wife brought back seemed to the little -circle at home. Almost indeed at first it sounded "too good to be -true," and it was not till Captain Headfort, with the practical -matter-of-fact grasp of things which was a part of his character, went -on to give details about going down to see the place and settle what had -to be done, and how soon they could take up their residence there, and -so on, that they all began to breathe more freely and feel that it was -_real_. - -"You must come with us, Phil, when we go to spy the land," said Evelyn. -"We shall be ever so much the better for your advice and taste." - -And this time Philippa brought forward no excuses for not falling in -with her sister's wishes, though Brierly--Evelyn's new home--was within -a drive of Merle-in-the-Wold. - -CHAPTER TWENTY. - -A VISITOR IN A HANSOM. - -A day or two after the Headforts' return to Greenleaves, Philippa got a -letter from Maida Lermont. The Dorriford people were now at _home_ -again, but they had travelled back by slow stages, and this was only the -second time that any direct news of them had come since Mr Raynsworth -and his daughter had left Cannes. - -Miss Lermont wrote cheerfully. She was feeling so well, she said, far -better than "this time last _year_," and she was looking forward to -seeing her cousin before long, though how or when exactly she could not -say--it was more "a sort of presentiment." She gave a few details, with -the graphic interest of touch peculiar to her, of their journey -homewards and certain new sights and experiences it had offered. And -then at the close came a mention of the name which, almost unconsciously -to herself, Philippa had been looking for all through the letter. - -"I hear from the Bertrams that Mr Gresham has been down at Merle, but -only for a short time," she wrote. "They will be seeing him in town -next week when they go up. He has been very busy about something or -other, I forget what--oh, yes, I know--some electioneering through an -unexpected vacancy." And at the _very_ end she added: "I forgot to give -you Aline Worthing's love, though I faithfully promised her to do so. -They left Cannes the same day you did, but by a different route, so I -did not see them again there, but we came across them in Paris." - -These two fragments of gossip did not detract from the generally -pleasurable feeling which Miss Lermont's letter left on her cousin's -mind. She was glad to know that Mr Gresham had been "unusually busy," -for--a girl's fancy is an unmanageable thing--in spite of her strong -self-control, Philippa, at the bottom of her heart, knew that she was -not always mistress of her own thoughts. And now that several weeks had -elapsed since her return and his, for he had told her he meant to be -soon in England again, and he had made no sign, not even a letter to -Evelyn, certain painful possibilities had now and then suggested -themselves. Had the woman, Bailey, who, for some reason or other, -seemed to have become her enemy, had Bailey done or said something? Had -she retailed her discovery to Mrs Worthing, and had Mrs Worthing--a -faint sick feeling came over Philippa at this stage of her conjectures, -and she went no further with them, for what sort of interpretation a -coarse, vulgar mind might give to what she had done, she was at a loss -to imagine. - -"She would probably say I had done it for a wager, or some hateful -practical joke--just the kind of thing _he_ would abhor," she thought. - -So in addition to the satisfaction of learning that Mr Gresham had been -unusually occupied, was that of hearing that the Worthings had left -Cannes so quickly. - -"They cannot have met again," thought Philippa to herself. And her -heart grew lighter at once. - -"If only," she went on thinking, "if _only_ I knew him well enough, or-- -or had any reason for telling him all about it--the whole story--_what_ -a relief it would be! And even Michael Gresham, rough and ready as he -is, _so_ different from his cousin, once he knew the whole, was really -kind and I don't think he looked down upon me for it. What he hated, I -can see now, was the feeling that I was deceitful and unstraightforward. -And Mr Gresham understands shades of thought and feeling so -wonderfully--almost like a woman. Oh, no, it could not do me any harm -in any real friend's opinion if I could tell it all myself in the first -place." - -And perhaps she was right. - -"Philippa," said Evelyn, one morning, "I have ever so many messages for -you from Mrs Shepton--dutiful regards or affectionate respects, or -something of that kind. She was sorely put to it to find out how to -express herself correctly, with proper respect, I mean, and yet with the -affection she really does feel for you. She _is_ a nice woman and so -devoted to Bonny. I only hope--" But here Mrs Marmaduke Headfort -hesitated. - -"Go on," said Philippa, "I don't mind any allusions now. And I love -Mrs Shepton. Nothing she could say would vex me." - -"You are wrong for once," said Evelyn. "It wasn't anything about you I -was going to say. It was only that I do devoutly hope if ever I come to -be--well, at the head of things at Wyverston, that I shall find Mrs -Shepton still there. And I hesitated, because it seems horridly -cold-blooded to think of the dear old squire's death." - -"Yes," her sister agreed, "it does. Still he is an old man, and of -course he now _wants_ Duke to be recognised as his heir. That makes a -difference. I should not think Mrs Shepton at all a lover of change. -I daresay she will end her days at Wyverston. She has only been in two -places in her life--first as nurse in one of the Gresham families, and -then, after a few years of married life, as housekeeper at Wyverston. -And her affections seem divided between the two families." - -"I don't think she cares much about Bernard Gresham, _our_ Mr Gresham," -says Evelyn. "It is Michael she is so devoted to, and that is natural, -I suppose, as it was in _his_ family she was nurse, though she had a -good deal to do with Bernard too--he was so much with his relations as a -child. She told me some interesting things about the Greshams, -by-the-by. Did you know that _Michael's_ father was the elder brother, -not Bernard's, and that the grand-uncle--grand-uncle to these young men, -I mean--from whom Bernard inherited Merle and all his wealth, left it -away from Michael on purpose?" - -"N-no," Philippa replied. "At least I don't know anything distinctly. -Mr Gresham, in talking of his cousin one day, alluded to his having had -troubles, and spoke of him as having behaved very well, or very -unselfishly or something." - -How clearly she remembered the very spot at which they were standing--in -the grounds of the old chateau--when Mr Gresham had alluded to Michael! -"A bit of a hero," he had called him, though he had added what, though -vaguely, pleased her less, something about "quixotry." - -"That was nice of Bernard Gresham," said Evelyn, "for the position is a -delicate one, and many men without his good feeling and _perfect_ good -taste might almost have taken a dislike to Michael; the association of -having in a sense supplanted him must be rather painful." - -"Supplanted him!" repeated Philippa. "I don't understand what you -mean?" - -"Oh, no, of course--you know so little. It was this: _Michael's_ father -was the elder brother, and though, by all accounts, very charming, he -was terribly wild. He ran through all he had and half or wholly broke -his wife's heart. He died when Michael was about eighteen, leaving any -amount of debts. They _had_ been very well off, much better than -Bernard's parents, who were in India or somewhere--his father, that is -to say--his mother died when he was born, and he was practically brought -up at his uncle's. Then his father died, just before Michael's, so the -two young men came next, though the property was not entailed. Well, -the old uncle was furious at the way Michael's father had behaved, but -that would not have made any difference to Michael, whom he liked and -respected. But he would do nothing to help to pay his dead nephew's -debts, and Michael and his mother were broken-hearted about them. Both -on account of the disgrace to Mr Henry Gresham's memory and also -because some of the debts were unusually bad ones; he had borrowed money -from all sorts of people who could ill afford to lose it, poor relations -of his wife's, even poorer people still, whom he had cajoled by his -charming manners. It was actual ruin to several. Michael pleaded and -pleaded with the old uncle till at last he got into a sort of rage and -said that for peace sake he would pay them off, if Michael would -renounce all expectation of being his heir. And Michael _did_, for his -mother's sake more even than for the other reasons, and he never let her -know at what a cost his father's memory had been cleared. She died soon -after, in comparative peace of mind. And he had to face the world -practically penniless. He knew it; he knew the old man would keep to -what he had said, and he did." - -"Did he leave Michael _nothing_?" said Philippa. - -"Nothing. His name was not mentioned in the will. The uncle might have -modified it if he had lived longer, but he was very old and he died -suddenly." - -"And," Philippa went on, with some hesitation, "has her--has Mr Gresham -done nothing for his cousin?" - -Evelyn shook her head. - -"I can't say. I didn't like to ask Mrs Shepton anything that she did -not tell, but she is a very fair, just-minded woman. She did not say -anything about Mr Gresham--Bernard, I mean--one way or the other. But -she said a great deal about how proud Michael is. I should think it is -most probable that Bernard has offered to help him, but that he has -refused it." - -"Yes," said Philippa, consideringly. "And then besides if--if he looked -upon his arrangement with his grand-uncle as a compact, I daresay he -would think it not strictly honourable to take any of his money, even -from its present possessor. Still--" - -"Still what?" said Evelyn, with some impatience. - -"I was only going to say that I think Mr Gresham might have done--well -_something_ to help Michael on." - -"And how do we know that he has not? I feel almost certain he has -_tried_ to do so at any rate. You remember he used the word `quixotry' -in talking to you of Michael. Ten to one he was thinking of his -cousin's refusal to take anything from him." - -"Perhaps so," said Philippa, somewhat absently. Evelyn felt slightly -irritated with her, and half inclined to blame herself for her own -communicativeness. - -"Philippa is so fantastic," she thought. "Very likely she will now -begin making a hero in earnest of Michael Gresham, and blaming Bernard -for what he probably deserves no blame for." - -But she scarcely understood her sister. Philippa's thoughts were -certainly occupied with the two men, but not exactly to the -disparagement of the elder. She was only comparing the two in her mind -and saying to herself how little she would have credited Michael with -the delicacy and sensitiveness of _feeling_ he evidently possessed. - -"He must be almost a grand character," she thought. "And I only saw his -roughness and hardness. I never would have thought him so capable of -devotion as he must have been to his mother. What a hard life he has -had! It makes it seem easy for any one to be kind and considerate as -Mr Gresham is, when one knows how smooth things have been for him in -comparison. Still, prosperity _might_ have made him hard and -indifferent; it often does. And that I cannot think he would ever be." - -She was right--right, that is to say, so far as a large nature can ever -fairly judge a small one. Careless or indifferent to his cousin it was -not in Bernard Gresham to be, nor forgetful of the kindness shown him -throughout his youth by Michael's parents. And Evelyn's belief that the -struggles the latter had gone through were far more due to his own -determined independence than to Bernard's selfishness or neglect, hit -the mark pretty closely. - -The very evening of the day on which the sisters had had this talk about -the Greshams, a _tete-a-tete_, in which they themselves--Miss Raynsworth -more especially--were the principal subject of discussion, took place in -Michael Gresham's rooms. - -He had dined and was preparing for an evening's study, for he was -working very hard just then at the higher branches of technical -knowledge connected with his profession, when the sound of a hansom -stopping at his door made him glance out of the window with a touch of -curiosity. For the street was a quiet one, and the neighbourhood was -not fashionable and callers on himself were rare. - -But that this caller was one of such, there could be no doubt, for -standing on the pavement as he paid the cab, Michael recognised the -familiar figure of his cousin Bernard. - -He stepped back from the window with a murmur of impatience. Bernard's -visits, though infrequent, were not flying ones, and Michael had mapped -out his evening's work. There was no use in grumbling, however, and he -met the new-comer pleasantly, as the door opened and the small boy who -acted as page on such occasions announced Mr Gresham. - -"Lucky to find you in, Mike," was Bernard's first greeting. "I would -have telegraphed to say I was coming, but I only made up my mind to try -to see you half an hour ago, so I thought I would just chance it." - -"I am not often out in the evening," said Michael. "I don't go in for -dinner-parties and that sort of thing, as you know." - -"I have missed you sometimes, however," said his cousin. "Last year I -looked you up two or three times, don't you remember? without ever -finding you in." - -"Last year I stayed later at the office. I very often didn't come home -to dinner," said Michael, quietly. "This year it is different. I have -work that I can do better at home." - -Bernard glanced round the room as his cousin ceased speaking. Michael's -"home" was a somewhat dreary one, and somehow, though he had honestly -meant to do his best for the man who had been all but a brother to him -in bygone days, Bernard Gresham never realised Michael's uphill life and -struggles without a twinge of something like self-reproach. - -"Are you satisfied with the berth you have got?" he said, abruptly. -"Are these fellows--Matterson and Wheeler, I mean--treating you -properly?" - -"Quite properly--quite fairly, that is to say, thanks to you," Michael -replied, for the one thing he had accepted at his cousin's hands was a -substantial guarantee, which in due course was to pave the way towards -his being taken in as a working partner. "One does not look for more -than that in business matters. I have never expected ready roasted -larks to fall to my share; but I am quite satisfied. Once I am -thoroughly qualified in this special department," and he glanced at the -papers strewn on the table, "I have no doubt the permanent arrangement -will be settled. But talking of roast larks or roast anything, have you -dined, Bernard?" - -Mr Gresham nodded. - -"Yes, thank you, all right. I had something at my club early, on my way -here. Have _you_ dined?" - -Just then there came a scratching at the door. - -"Yes," said Michael, as he got up to open it. "I take my meals -down-stairs. That's one thing I can't stand, eating and working in the -same room. And Solomon," as the dachshund walked in solemnly, "Solomon -has dined too, but he stays behind for a nap." - -Bernard eyed the dog with a smile that was not all amiability. - -"Really, Michael," he observed, "you are too ridiculous about that -animal." - -"Was that all you had to say to me?" said Michael, carelessly. He knew -his cousin quite well enough to be sure that there was some special -reason for his visit, a reason which it was not altogether easy to -express, for he was conscious that Bernard was beating about the bush. - -"No," Mr Gresham replied, with a touch of sharpness, "it was not all. -I want to ask your advice. But besides that, you have no reason, Mike, -to say or to think that I am indifferent about you. I did want to know -how you were getting on." - -"All right, old fellow. I have never said or thought that you were -indifferent," Michael answered, and his smile was frank and cordial. -"But what is it that you want to consult me about? You are not thinking -of getting married, are you?" - -"I don't know," was the reply. - -Michael looked at him keenly. - -"That means, I should say, that you are," he said. - -In his turn, Bernard fixed his eyes on his cousin. - -"What makes you think so? Have you heard any gossip about it?" - -"I don't know if you would call it gossip or not. I have heard that you -seemed--well, a good deal struck by some one you met at Cannes. But you -need not mind about it; it came round to me in the most innocent way, -though I cannot tell you how." - -In point of fact, Michael's informant was his old nurse, who had -mentioned in a letter to him some allusions which Mrs Marmaduke -Headfort had allowed herself to make, in her confidential talks with the -housekeeper, to Mr Gresham's admiration for her sister. But no -comments, for or against, had been added by Mrs Shepton. - -Bernard did not appear annoyed. - -"Oh, at _Cannes_," he repeated. "It is a nest of gossip about the -English visitors, like all those places. And possibly," he went on more -slowly, "there was some little ground for it." - -"Then you need not trouble to tell me the young lady's name," said -Michael, quickly, "which, to my mind, is always preferable in such -circumstances. But taking that for known, what is it you want to -consult me about? How can you--" He stopped short. - -"Perhaps she has given you no encouragement to go further?" - -A shade of irritation darkened Bernard's face. - -"On the contrary--" he began. Then he, too, stopped short. He had no -wish to pose as a _fat_, even to Michael. "We need not enter into that -part of it," he said, composedly. "The thing is this, and, as you like -plain speaking, you must not turn upon me, and call me coarse, or -unchivalrous, or anything of that kind--the facts are these: I left -Cannes all but decided in my own mind to--to--well, to go through with -it. But circumstances delayed my return home, or, rather I should say, -my return to my usual life. I was so busy about that canvassing -business. And, on the whole, I thought it was just as well; I wanted to -think it all over. Well, soon I was at leisure again; one day in -London, when I was just considering how best to proceed, _not_ having -cooled upon it, I met some people you too know. The Worthings." - -Michael crushed up a sheet of paper lying on the table by his hand. - -"Indeed," he said. "And what about that? Has Mrs Worthing not -relinquished her hopes for the fair Aline--poor little soul--and is she -waxing spiteful?" - -"She is far too clever to _show_ her spite, whether she feels it or -not," said Mr Gresham. "And she is too cautious to state anything -distinctly untrue. I can't make it out. With all reasonable allowance -for her--well, spitefulness is as good a word as any--I cannot -understand her saying what she has done, unless--unless she has some -facts to back her?" - -"What did she say?" asked Michael, and he threw the ball of crushed -paper into the fire, with a sort of fierceness. - -"She said--" began Bernard. Then he got up and walked up and down the -room. "Upon my soul," he went on, "it's awfully difficult to tell. It -was so vague--just enough to be horribly annoying and upsetting, and--" - -"People have no right--no right whatever--to be vague in -mischief-making," said Michael, angrily. "And mischief-making I infer -that it was. She spoke `vaguely' against Miss--no, I won't name her. -Why, in heaven's name, did you not bring the woman to book?" - -"How could I?" replied his cousin. "Don't get so excited, Mike. By -Jove! what a Don Quixote you are still! How could I bring her to book, -as you say, without seeming to give credence to her hints? The very -thing she would have liked. Of course, my only role was to treat what -she said with absolute indifference, as an absurd mistake. I could see -that my doing so riled her. Besides, you would not have had me let her -see that, mistake or no mistake, I took any special interest in Miss--in -the person concerned?" - -"No. I see what you mean," said Michael, consideringly. "It would have -been very wrong, seeing that you had _not_ quite made up your mind; very -wrong for _her_ sake." And again he eyed his cousin keenly. - -Bernard gave a movement of impatience. - -"It would have been very disagreeable for _myself_," he said. "I -wouldn't allow that woman to think any chatter or warnings of _hers_ had -influenced me. I don't say--candidly to you in confidence--I don't say -but what they did, for I believe I had made up my mind to go through -with it." - -"Then, upon my soul," said Michael, sharply, "I don't understand you. -You--you care for this girl; you love her or are in love with her, and -you would let the poisonous tongue of a thorough-going, scheming woman -like Mrs Worthing deter you from what you call going through with it, -when you know her motive too! By Jove! Bernard, if you are fool enough -to play into her hands, and I see you some fine day married to poor -little Aline, you need not come to me to complain of your -mother-in-law." - -Bernard flushed crimson. - -"You are going too far, Michael," he said. "To begin with, I have no -right to impute the motive you do, nor to impugn Mrs Worthing's -truthfulness. It is possible her motives are sincere and disinterested. -It is not inconceivable that she may have some friendly feeling for -me." - -"It is conceivable that she is clever enough to make you think so," -muttered Michael. Then, after a moment's silence. "But, after all," he -said, suddenly, "what _did_ she say? All through this conversation you -have put off telling me." - -"You never asked distinctly," said his cousin. "I began by telling you -it was vague--vague, and so extraordinary; so--upon the face of -it--_absurd_, that I--I scarcely know how to make you take it -seriously." Michael laughed, but it was somewhat forcedly. - -"You are really a good deal of an idiot, Bernard. But go on, the more -absurd the better." - -CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. - -CIRCUMSTANCES. - -"I can't give you her precise words," said Mr Gresham. "And I don't -think what she said was exactly premeditated. We were talking about -Cannes and the people there--it was, in fact, the first time I had seen -the Worthings since meeting them there, and I have not seen them again. -Something was said about the Lermonts, and Mrs Worthing expressed her -surprise at finding that the--the Raynsworths were cousins of theirs. -She `had never heard of them before; who were they? it seemed odd -somehow.' I reminded her that Mrs Marmaduke Headfort was a Miss -Raynsworth, and that the young lady of the same name was her sister. -And to my amazement, what do you think the woman said next?" - -Michael murmured something unintelligible. Bernard proceeded: - -"She looked at me curiously, and said, `Ah, that is just it--_is_ she -her sister?' I stared, naturally, and then said, carelessly, `Do you -mean that they are only half-sisters? Possibly so, though I scarcely -think it; they are not the least like each other, however.' She agreed, -and if no more had been said I daresay I should have thought no more -about it. But I saw by Mrs Worthing's manner that there was something -more to come, and so, as at the bottom of my heart I _was_ interested, I -said nothing to turn the subject or to shut her up." - -"H-m," said Michael. - -"She hesitated, and then she began again. `No,' she said, `I was not -thinking of their being only half-sisters, but sisters at all. There is -something odd about that family, Mr Gresham, mark my words. I know as -a fact--as a fact--that that girl does not always assume the position of -Mrs Marmaduke Headfort's sister. She has been recognised as figuring -in a very different capacity.' `What?' said I. `Mother, or -grandmother, perhaps?' `It is no laughing matter,' Mrs Worthing -replied; and to give her her due she was serious enough. She had been -very anxious about it, for Aline's sake, as it appeared that the child -had taken a tremendous fancy to--to Miss Raynsworth. And then she went -on to say that her maid--a treasure, of course, who had been with her -twenty years, and all that sort of thing--had seen and known that same -girl as a servant. Where and when she did not say, and I would not ask, -but she vouched for it. I laughed at it as an absurd piece of nonsense, -and I am glad to believe that I quite took her in. She does not think -she made any impression upon me. I made some upon her. I asked her on -the face of it how such a thing was possible. She had seen the -Lermonts--Miss Lermont above all, who is far from a silly woman--making -much of their guest. I did _not_ say, `You have only to look at the -girl to see how thorough-bred she is.' I thought it wiser not. I -_inferred_, politely, of course, my surprise at a woman like Mrs -Worthing condescending to listen to servants' gossip. On the whole, so -far as _she_ is concerned, I am by no means dissatisfied with my -diplomacy." - -"And what _are_ you dissatisfied about then?" inquired Michael, drily. - -Mr Gresham got up and walked towards the window, where he stood for a -moment or two staring out in silence. Then, without facing his cousin, -he began again. - -"I scarcely like to tell you; you will be down upon me for giving a -moment's thought to it, but half confidences are no good." And he went -on to relate the curious and annoying episode which had occurred at the -picnic, an episode which he confessed had been emphasised to him by -Philippa's extreme reluctance to having any notice taken of the -lady's-maid's impertinence. "So you see," he added, in conclusion, "I -could not help putting two and two together, when Mrs Worthing made her -extraordinary statement to me, otherwise I should probably have sent it -quite out of my mind, as utterly absurd and contemptible nonsense, or, -possibly as one of those extraordinary cases of personal resemblance -which one does come across or hear of now and then." - -"And why not explain it in that way still?" - -"I don't know," said Mr Gresham, slowly; "I really cannot say. There -was something indefinite, unsatisfactory, in her manner." - -"It is surely natural enough that a girl of any refinement would detest -to be mixed up in a scene with Mrs Worthing's maid, or Mrs Anybody's -maid," said Michael, hotly. "A low-minded, suspicious servant! Of -course, Miss Raynsworth treated the thing as beneath contempt. And -after all," he went on, cooling down again, "what _can_ you be afraid -of? What do you suppose it _can_ be but some mistake? The girl is -_not_ a servant. Would a whole family, including the Lermonts, combine -to pass her off as a lady if she were not one? It is inconceivable. -Besides, Mrs Marmaduke Headfort spoke of her sister Philippa to you -often at Wyverston. I remember hearing her say how unlike they were." - -"Yes," Mr Gresham agreed. "I know she did, and I had seen her myself-- -you forget--the same girl that I met at Cannes--I had seen her at -Dorriford." - -"Then what in heaven's name are you worrying about?" exclaimed Michael. -"You blow hot and cold with one breath." - -"I have no doubt that it is all right, practically," said his cousin. -"She must be herself. What I dread is the possibility of some wild -practical joke--acting a part for a wager," and here he shuddered. "Can -you imagine anything more detestable for me? The sort of thing I could -not stand coming up in the future about _my wife_. It would be -insufferable." - -"Then why risk it? Why take any steps towards making her your wife?" -said Michael. His tone was peculiar. - -Bernard Gresham's face fell. - -"You really think there is risk of something of the kind? you seriously -advise me to give it up?" he said. "I had hoped you might suggest -something, that possibly you might have found out what it has all arisen -from, and set my mind at rest." - -Michael shook his head and laughed, somewhat grimly. "Not if I know -it," he said. "I would do a great deal to oblige you, but not act -detective, thank you, my good fellow. Do I advise you to give it up? -Well, yes, if," and here his voice softened and deepened till its tones -were very grave and yet almost tender too, "if you cannot entirely and -absolutely trust a woman to be incapable of any really unladylike or -unfeminine action, or course of action--well, yes, without such trust I -should strongly advise you, for her sake, even more than your own, to -give up all idea of making her your wife." - -Mr Gresham's face had brightened at first; as Michael came to a -conclusion it fell again. - -"Ah!" he exclaimed, "the way you speak seems to describe her. She gives -one just that feeling. You might have seen her--" - -"I have heard of her," said his cousin, laconically. - -"And yet," the other went on, scarcely noticing the interpolation, "yet, -I am _not_ satisfied, and that's the truth of it. You don't think I -could ask her about it--straight out, you know--do you, Mike?" - -"Premising, of course, as the excuse for your im--for your interest in -the matter, that if she explain things to your satisfaction, you have -almost made up your mind to propose to her? Well, what do you think -yourself? How does it strike you?" - -"Don't be so confoundedly sarcastic," said Mr Gresham, in a tone of -reproachful irritation. "I have come to you for advice; I have told you -the whole thing as I would do to no one else, and--you might see I am -very much upset. I suppose you cannot understand--a cold-blooded -misogynist like you." - -"Come now, you needn't call me ugly names," said Michael, whose spirits -seemed to rise as Bernard's went down. "I suppose we look at things -quite differently. I don't think I _do_ understand your excessive -uneasiness and perplexity." - -"Put yourself in my place," said Bernard, eagerly, "if you--" He -hesitated. - -"Go on; if I cared for any one as you do for _her_," said Michael, -"would I feel as you do? No, I would not. That's just it. It is not -in me to `care' in that sort of way, without giving complete trust." - -"You don't know anything about it," grumbled his cousin. "You mean, -then, that you think I should--" - -"I don't mean anything. You are you, and I am I. I am afraid I cannot -advise you." - -Bernard got up slowly. - -"Thank you for listening to me, all the same, old fellow," he said, as -he held out his hand. "You'll come down to Merle at Easter for a day or -two as usual? I shall count upon you." - -"Well, yes. I daresay I shall, thank you." - -They shook hands. Michael opened the door, followed his guest a few -steps down the staircase, and stood looking after him till the hall door -shut again. Then he returned to his sitting-room, and there came the -sound of the hansom driving away. - -"I wonder how it will end," he said to himself, and for a few moments he -stood there with a curious dreamy expression, very unusual to him. -Suddenly he started. The dachshund, divining something out of the -common, had crept up to him silently, and was licking his hand. - -"All right, Solomon," said Michael, "all right. Many thanks for -reminding me that I'm wasting time. That would never do." - -He sat down at the table, resolutely drawing his books and papers -towards him, and set to work to get as much done in the evening as the -long interruption had made possible. - -"Easter," he said to himself, when at last he stopped working and -proceeded to "tidy up," as the children say, methodically and carefully, -all the notes, plans, and books with which the table was spread. -"Easter is very late this year--as late as it can be. By that time, -nearly a month hence, surely Bernard will have made up his mind, as he -calls it." A gesture of something almost like disgust escaped him. -"Has he got any mind, I sometimes wonder! What can _she_ find to -attract or interest her in him, except of course his good looks?" - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -Easter was so late that year, and the spring came on so rapidly, that it -was quite confusing and unsettling to one's ideas. - -"Good-Friday on a positively summer day would be too much for my brain -to take in," said Evelyn Headfort. - -"Yes," her sister agreed. "But _Easter_ and sunshine are not -incongruous. Let us hope we shall not have winter back again; there is -still a week to Easter Day, you know, Evey." - -"I don't think it is likely to get cold again now; there are no weather -prophecies of the kind," said Mrs Headfort. "Still it is well to make -hay while the sun shines. I _think_ we shall be pretty straight by the -end of next week. I mean to say, the rough of the work done, so that I -shall not need to come back again till we come for good." - -"I _think_ so," Philippa agreed. "But you know tradespeople and -workpeople are proverbially behind time in these cases." - -She glanced around her as she spoke. They were standing in what was in -process of being converted into a drawing-room in the old house on Mr -Headfort's ---shire property which was now to be Evelyn's home. - -It was a dear old place, and with great capabilities of better things; -though hitherto it had been little more--of late years at least--than a -large well-kept farm-house. - -But it was not substantially out of repair, and it was very roomy. So -no fresh building was called for, only the removal or alteration of -partitions and doors and such, comparatively speaking, expeditious work, -as well as painting, papering, and general embellishment to suit Mrs -Marmaduke Headfort's taste, and to be a fitting background to the -well-chosen furniture of which a great part was the old squire's gift. -A "wedding present" he called it, though coming somewhat late in the -day. - -Altogether fortune was smiling on Duke and his wife. And Evelyn's busy -little brain meant to extract more smiles from the capricious lady -before she had done with her. It had not been only and entirely for -selfish reasons that she had dragged her sister from home to "rough it" -for a fortnight at Palden Grange, declaring that she could not possibly -"manage" without Philippa's advice and practical help about everything. - -"Especially as Duke, you know, mamma, will be out all day. He is -infatuated about his new work and says he has such a lot to learn, and -he doesn't care a bit what our house is to look like. No, I _must_ have -Phil." - -And Phil she had, the girl herself neither urging nor objecting to the -plan. Philippa was perplexed and unsettled in those days. She could -not understand Bernard Gresham's silence. For the weeks were passing, -and the reasons for seeing and hearing nothing more of him, which for a -time had satisfied her, were no longer in existence. Evelyn, too, was -puzzled; half prepared to be angry with her hero, and at other times -inclined to throw the blame on her sister's "stand-off" manner. - -"Though after all," she reflected, with a return to her usual practical -common-sense, "it is very awkward for men sometimes. And in our case it -is not as if we had a big house and lots of people staying with us, so -that he could easily hint to me that he would like an invitation. That -would be so _very_ marked in our case. No, the only thing is for them -to meet again `accidentally.'" - -And she set her quick wits to work, and that successfully. She found -out that the master of Merle made a practice of spending Easter there, -usually coming down a week or so beforehand. And this year there was no -doubt of his being there, as he had been so much away during the winter -that various things were calling for his attention. Palden Grange was, -as has been mentioned, only a few miles from Merle-in-the-Wold. It was -necessary that Evelyn, as well as her husband, should be on the spot for -some little time, to direct and superintend the alterations going on, so -all turned out naturally, Evelyn arranging that their residence at -Palden should include Easter-tide, _and_ her sister's company. - -Philippa felt as if she must resign herself to fate. She would have had -an inexpressible horror of going out of her way or even seeming to do -so, to meet Mr Gresham again, yet, on the other hand, any refusal to do -what the Headforts so greatly urged would have been disobliging and -unkind, unless she could have given the true reason for it. And that -reason, above, all the putting it into words, seemed to her as -indelicate to entertain as the converse. For after all, Mr Gresham had -not literally committed himself, and everybody said, and she was always -reading so in stories, that men were very changeable and capricious-- -even good, well-meaning men. - -"Far more so than women," thought the girl. "No, I must just go on my -own way and not swerve to right or left through any thought of him. -That is the only thing to do if I wish to retain my own self-respect." - -So Evelyn had her way, and here they were at Palden; here they had been -for more than a week, as busy as bees, and nothing had been heard of Mr -Gresham, no allusion even had been made to their vicinity to his home, -except that one day when something had been said by Duke about taking -Phil over to see the gardens at Merle before they left, and she had not -replied, Evelyn had not seconded the proposal. She had indeed rather -discouraged it, for which her sister had mentally thanked her. - -"Imagine our going over there, and his possibly having come home and -meeting me like the girl in _Pride and Prejudice_--could anything be -more horrible?" thought Philippa. - -And she was grateful for the sort of tacit understanding of her feelings -which her sister seemed to show, though at the same time rather -surprised at it. - -Then suddenly the aspect of everything changed. - -That very afternoon--the afternoon of the day on which the sisters had -been discussing the probability of the work being sufficiently advanced -to allow of their return to Greenleaves within a fortnight--as Philippa -and Evelyn were unpacking some especially choice china which had just -arrived, and which was to be carefully locked up in one of the -innumerable cupboards of the old house till Mrs Marmaduke Headfort -should return "for good," the young servant, who was their temporary -attendant, appeared in the doorway with a face of some consternation. - -"If you please, ma'am," she began, "there's a gentleman called to see -you. I told him you were very busy, but he _would_ come in, while I -told you. Mr Gresham is his name." - -"Where is he?" said Evelyn, getting up as she spoke, for she had been -kneeling in front of a packing-case--her face rosier than usual. "What -room did you show him into? Not into the drawing-room, assuredly," she -went on, with a laugh, to Philippa, "for it is blockaded with ladders -and scaffolding, and--" - -"May I not show myself in?" said a voice in the doorway. "I have only -just come down and heard of your being here," and so saying the -new-comer came forward. - -He shook hands cordially with Evelyn; the circumstances made anything -like formality impossible, yet Philippa thought she detected a touch of -constraint in his manner as he turned to her. For the moment she had -not leisure to ask herself if this pained or gratified her; her whole -efforts being devoted to the maintaining in herself an entirely calm -exterior, and this Evelyn's ready tact greatly assisted. She chatted -merrily to Mr Gresham about the house, and the furniture, and their -future plans, till her two companions grew completely at ease, to all -outward appearance at least. But it was not till shortly before Mr -Gresham left, that Philippa allowed herself to yield to the happy -consciousness which had gilded the last days of her stay at Cannes. - -For it was not fancy--he did hold her hand, for a moment longer than -conventionality permitted, and though he addressed Evelyn as he made -plans for meeting again on the morrow, it was Philippa's eyes that his -sought. - -"Yes, you must all come over to luncheon," he said, "and leave the -packing-cases to themselves. I only wish you would come to Merle -altogether while you are in the neighbourhood." - -CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. - -ON THE WAY TO THE FISH-PONDS. - -During the next few days all outward circumstances seemed to combine in -one direction. The weather was perfect; Evelyn the most tactful of -chaperons; Merle itself surpassed in beauty all that the sisters had -heard of it. Their host--for such he practically was, as nearly every -day saw them Mr Gresham's guests--quietly exerted all the powers he -possessed to enhance the charms of his home. And Philippa lived in the -sunshine of the present, in happy confidence as to the future. - -"It _must_ be all right," she told herself. Only--once or twice--an -almost imperceptible hesitation in the young man's manner struck her, or -her imagination, with a faint shadow of misgiving, and occasionally an -unspoken inquiry in Evelyn's eyes startled her a little. - -Why did he not speak definitely? - -Though even as she thought this, she dismissed the question. - -"I should have no misgiving," she said; "I have no reason for it. It is -only that miserable secret in the background! If he would but give me a -chance of telling him about it; it would be so delightful to find, as I -know I should, how fanciful and exaggerated I have been in fearing that -a man like him would really be changed to me because of it." - -The opportunity was to come, as such things often do, when she was least -expecting it. Two or three days before Easter, Michael Gresham made his -appearance at Merle. His cousin welcomed him cordially, though, truth -to tell, he had almost forgotten this arranged-for visit. - -"So you're all alone," said Michael at breakfast the first morning--he -had travelled down by a night train--"I am all the better pleased, -though rather surprised. You are not generally so contented with your -own society." - -Bernard Gresham did not at once reply. He stooped to pat Solomon, who, -needless to say, was in attendance; an unusual piece of amiability which -did not escape Michael's attention, any more than the slightly -heightened colour on his cousin's face, as he turned to reply. - -"Well," he began, "I did mean to ask two or three people down, but it -rather went out of my head. I've only been here for a week, and I've -been pretty busy looking after the Headforts. They are at Palden -Grange; did you know? It's very rough, of course. They are getting it -into order, so it was only common humanity to ask them to come over here -as much as they liked." - -"Oh, indeed," said Michael. "Duke Headfort and his wife, of course, you -mean?" - -"Ye-es," Bernard resumed, "and--her sister. She is helping her." - -Michael said nothing. Bernard wished he would speak, but as he gave no -signs of breaking the silence, Mr Gresham began again. - -"You remember," he said, with as near an approach to awkwardness as was -possible for him, "our conversation that evening some weeks ago?" - -"Yes," Michael replied, "I remember it." - -"I have heard nothing more," said Bernard. "I have not come across -those people again; the Worthings, I mean. And--well, I think I've made -up my mind to risk it; to go through with it. Fate seems leading up to -it somehow. I was by no means sure that she was here when I came down, -though it did occur to me as possible that she might be with her sister, -and--I have seen a great deal of her these last few days. I cannot -associate her with any unladylike escapade of the kind that was hinted -at I cannot believe that there is really any risk to run. There must -have been some absurd mistake." - -"And," said Michael, "you have no misgivings as--as to her reciprocating -your--" He hesitated. - -Bernard smiled. - -"In ordinary cases that would hardly be a fair question," he said, "but -as I have given you my full confidence so far, I think I may allow that -that part of it appears to be all right." - -Michael got up from his seat, and strolled across to the fireplace. -There, leaning against the mantelpiece, he calmly surveyed his cousin. -"Then," he said, "I may almost congratulate you at once? You will -doubtless allow me to do so formally as soon as possible?" - -"Certainly," Bernard replied. "You shall be the very first to hear of -it." - -"And you intend to leave that piece of gossip at rest then?" said -Michael, after a moment's silence. - -A shadow crossed Mr Gresham's face. - -"What else can I do?" he inquired. - -"Nothing," Michael replied. "Most certainly nothing; but granting that -she is all that I feel sure she must be, if there is any truth in the -story, anything that a man could dislike his wife having been mixed up -in, there is _her_ point of view to be considered. _She_ will not let -it rest." - -"How do you mean?" said Bernard, raising his eyebrows. - -"She will tell you about it herself, of course," said Michael, curtly. - -Bernard seemed considerably discomposed. - -"You had better be prepared for the possibility," Michael continued. -"There is generally some root for gossip, however exaggerated. I advise -you to face this for both your sakes." - -"You certainly are a Job's comforter if ever there was one," said his -cousin, in a tone of annoyance. "Do you mean to say that I should make -further inquiry, or give her an opportunity of explaining it before I -commit myself? It would be so awkward, you see. I scarcely--" - -"Good heavens! no," said Michael, with angry contempt. "Would I suggest -your insulting a woman? I am only forewarning you that if there is -anything that requires explanation _she_ will volunteer it, and on this -account you had better be sure of your own mind, or you may find -yourself in a _very_ awkward position, to put it mildly." - -Mr Gresham's perceptions were not of the order to detect the covert -sarcasm of the last few words. - -"I see," he replied, consideringly. "Thank you for the suggestion. It -can do no harm to be prepared. But I flatter myself if any one can -steer their way through a tangle of the kind, _I_ can do so. Thanks, -Michael, all the same," and with his serenity quite restored, he got up -from the breakfast-table. - -The expression of Michael's face when he found himself alone grew hard -and dark. - -"What evil genius," he said to himself, "brought me down here at this -crisis? I wish I were at the antipodes! I almost think I shall go back -to town at once, but--it is just possible that, mixed up as I am in this -affair, I may be of use to her. Heaven knows what is going to come of -it all! That unlucky secret of hers, and Bernard's smallness of -character! Will she be disillusioned? or does he really care enough for -her to rise above himself? And will she perhaps spend the rest of her -life in worshipping an ideal and never find out her mistake? Such -things have been with such a woman." He sighed and turned away from the -window where he had been standing. - -"No," he said, "I'll stay and see it out." - -That same afternoon, when writing in the room which at Merle was always -considered his own, Michael heard through the open window the sound of -voices on the terrace below. One he recognised immediately as belonging -to Mrs Marmaduke Headfort, then a man's voice, which he supposed to be -that of her husband; Michael had never met Captain Headfort. Himself of -course unobserved, he approached the window. Yes, there was a third -visitor. It was the first time he had seen Miss Raynsworth in her own -character, and suddenly there flashed upon him the full strangeness of -the position. - -"I shall have to be introduced to her," he thought. "Will little Mrs -Headfort be equal to it? She knows at least that her sister and I were -travelling companions, even if she has been told no more as to my part -in it. And how will the girl herself stand it? I know how essentially -candid she must be. I must do my best to make it as little awkward as -possible. They have come over to tea, no doubt; I will keep out of the -way till we meet in the drawing-room." - -A moment or two later his cousin put his head in at the door. - -"The Headforts are here, Michael," he said. "We are going through the -woods to the old fish-ponds; do you care to come or not?" - -Michael shook his head. - -"I am not quite ready," he said; "you'll be back to tea, I suppose? You -can introduce me to your friends then. To Miss Raynsworth and Headfort, -I mean--Mrs Headfort of course I know." - -Bernard Gresham scarcely stayed to hear his reply. - -"All right," he said. "They're waiting for me," and he shut the door. - -Half-way to the fish-ponds, Evelyn's strength showed signs of giving -out. - -"Duke," she said, plaintively, "if I go much farther you will have to -carry me back. You forget that we walked here from Palden!" - -Duke looked intensely penitent. - -"Of course," he said; "why didn't you say so before, Evey, when Gresham -proposed it?" - -"I didn't know how far it was," she replied. "Is it _much_ farther, Mr -Gresham?" - -Bernard hesitated. - -"I am extremely sorry, Mrs Headfort," he said. "I'm afraid I must own -we haven't come half-way. But of course if it is too much for you we -had better give it up." - -"Oh, dear, no," said Evelyn, quickly. "That would vex me dreadfully. -It is such a lovely day. You three go on, and I'll easily find my way -back to Merle, and wait on the terrace for you. I shall enjoy the -quiet, and it would be a shame to stay indoors on such a perfect -afternoon." - -"Nonsense," said Duke. "Of course I'll take you back, and then I'll -stroll this way again and meet you and Philippa on your return," he -added to Mr Gresham. - -Philippa opened her lips as if about to remonstrate, but before she had -time to speak Bernard broke in. - -"Don't say you are tired too, Miss Raynsworth. I had set my heart on -showing you the fish-ponds. The woods there are in perfection at this -time of year." - -"I am not tired," said Philippa, quietly. "Perhaps it is the best thing -to do. Be sure you rest well, Evey, for there's the walk home to -consider." - -"Oh, no, you must let me send you back, of course," said Mr Gresham. -"_Au revoir_, then," and the quartet separated. - -Philippa and her host walked on some little way in silence. Both, -though neither fully realised it for the other, were making up their -minds to a decided step. For the last few days had made the girl -resolve that if circumstances combined to render her doing so possible, -she would tell Mr Gresham the facts of the travesty she had since so -bitterly regretted. And if anything had been wanting to confirm her in -this decision, Michael Gresham's arrival would have done so. - -But the task before her was far from an easy one. Independently of her -own not unnatural shrinking from the subject, there was the terror lest -in volunteering this confidence she should appear prematurely to take -for granted any special interest in her affairs on the part of her -companion; any right, so to say, on his side, to know all details of her -life. How could she broach the subject? - -She glanced at him; he was not looking at her, but gazing before him -with a preoccupied expression. And in some degree to her relief, just -as she was nervously clearing her throat to begin to speak, he suddenly -turned towards her. - -"We have still fully a mile before we get to the fish ponds," he said, -"but I do not think we need walk quite as fast as we are doing." - -Philippa slackened her pace without speaking. - -"I am so glad," Mr Gresham continued, "of this lucky chance of speaking -to you uninterruptedly." Then for the first time he hesitated. - -"I--you," he went on, "you must know, Miss Raynsworth, how much interest -I have come to feel in--you, and--in all that concerns you." - -Philippa glanced up quickly. What was coming? His words would normally -have admitted of but one interpretation, but something in his tone, its -calm, almost business-like deliberateness, made her doubtful. For the -moment she was on the point of availing herself of this preamble as an -opening for what she had made up her mind to say. Then she hesitated, -and while she did so he went on. - -"I--I am not impulsive, Miss Raynsworth. I am considerate by nature, -and in anything involving not only my own happiness but that of another, -I am deeply conscious that it behoves me to be doubly so. A mistake may -be made in two minutes which a lifetime cannot undo. So you will not -misunderstand me if I confess that it has taken me many weeks--nay, -months--to decide upon--" - -There was no doubt now, he was going to propose to her, and with the -disappearance of all uncertainty on this head, her own resolution -revived. In her nervousness she was for the moment unconscious of the -curious egotism of his words, of the entire absence of any nobility of -self-forgetfulness, any touch of impassioned feeling in his manner. Her -own generosity of character failed to realise its absence in him; her -one uppermost impulse was to prevent him in the slightest degree from -acting in the dark. - -"Stop, Mr Gresham," she said, hurriedly; "before you say any more I -have something to say to you." - -She gave a little gasp; she _felt_ herself growing pale. Something made -her look up. Instead of the expression of surprise which she had -unconsciously expected to meet in his face, her quick instincts -perceived a slight stiffening, a sort of indescribable drawing-back -instead of eager protest that nothing she could say would alter his -longing for her to hear him out. - -And could she have seen into her companion's mind at that moment, she -would scarcely have believed the reflections she would there have read. - -"She _has_ something to tell," he was thinking to himself. "I have not -been too cautious." - -And aloud he said, quietly: - -"As you wish, of course, Miss Raynsworth." - -She plunged into it. - -"You may remember," she began, "a little incident at Cannes which -annoyed you at the time--naturally so--and annoyed you still more, I -imagine, afterwards, when I refused to let you resent the impertinence I -had been subjected to. I could not have done otherwise, as you will -hear. I had promised my mother before leaving home to tell no one what -I am now going to tell you, without her leave." - -As she spoke there was an imperceptible lightening of Mr Gresham's -expression. - -"Your mother knew!" he ejaculated. - -"Of course," she exclaimed, too bent upon her recital to feel surprise -at his words. "This was how it all happened." And forcing herself to -speak with perfect calmness, she began at the beginning of the story and -told it all, simply and without comment, only omitting the names of any -not immediately concerned in the little drama--such as those of Michael -Gresham and Mrs Shepton--and carefully exonerating from all shadow of -blame in the matter her sister and her parents. - -When she had finished there fell a dead silence. With all her -self-control Philippa could not bring herself to raise her eyes--the -conflicting feelings in her mind made her almost physically giddy. - -Then as the silence continued, a new element began to make itself felt. -Her pride awoke and she reared her head half defiantly. - -"Does he think I am going tamely to await his judgment upon me?" she -thought to herself. "If so, he shall--" - -But at that moment Mr Gresham's voice at last made itself heard. - -"I have to thank you, Miss Raynsworth," he said, gently, "for giving me -your confidence. You will find it has not been misplaced. You have -done the best thing possible in telling me what you have done. -Though--" he hesitated, "it is best to be perfectly candid," he went on, -"I cannot but own that it is--a terrible disappointment to me to have to -associate anything of so extraordinary a kind with one whom--" - -Philippa turned upon him abruptly, her face crimsoning. Something in -his measured tone, more than in his actual words, began slowly to -insinuate into her a strange, chill misgiving. And why at that moment -did there recur to her memory, in advantageous contrast to Mr Gresham's -carefully considered and gently expressed disapproval, his cousin -Michael's stern, almost rough censure of what she had done? - -Before she had time to open her lips, her companion began again. - -"Excuse me," he said, "for interrupting you--I think you were going to -speak. I must ask you to listen to me first. I will be perfectly -frank. I was not _wholly_ unprepared for this strange disclosure. The -incident at Cannes never quite left my memory, and it was followed up by -certain remarks or hints as to something peculiar in which you had been -mixed up, which came to my ears more recently." - -"How? and where?" demanded Philippa. For one half instant the thought -crossed her brain--could Michael Gresham have been faithless to his -trust?--but it was as quickly dismissed. Rough and rugged he might be, -but _true_, she felt certain he was. - -"I scarcely know that I have any right to reply to your question," said -Mr Gresham, "and no purpose would be fulfilled by my doing so. All -that was said to me was very vague, so vague that I have allowed myself -to be buoyed up by hopes--now alas! shattered--that the warn--hints I -should say, rested on no real foundation. But do not mistake me, Miss -Raynsworth," as Philippa again seemed on the point of speaking. - -"Your confidence, I repeat, has not been misplaced. I do not think--no, -deliberately speaking--I do not think any lasting annoyance or -ill-results need be anticipated--especially when--" But here even _his_ -self-assurance shrank from completing the sentence. "I want to say," he -went on, "that notwithstanding all the pain and regret which I cannot -deny I am feeling, my attitude towards you is not radically shaken. In -time, I trust and believe, the whole miserable episode will be -forgotten--not only by the few outsiders who may have suspected any -mystery, but by myself." - -He glanced at Philippa as he spoke, expecting to detect a flush of -grateful relief on her face. What he did see there, was less easy to -interpret. She was no longer red, though, on the other hand, but -slightly paler than usual, and she turned her eyes fully upon him -without uttering a word. - -"I must express myself still more plainly," he said, almost as if -addressing a child, "as _my wife_, there will, I feel sure, be nothing, -comparatively speaking, to dread in the future. Your candour has -disarmed my scruples, for I know I can trust that never, under any -conceivable circumstances, could you again be tempted so to set -propriety and--and dignity at nought." - -Still she did not speak. - -"Miss Raynsworth," he said at last, "Miss Raynsworth--Philippa," he -exclaimed. "Do you not understand me?" and for the first time a very -shadowy apprehension that possibly, just possibly he had appeared too -sure of his ground suggested itself. "I--the circumstances have been so -exceptional--I have had no opportunity so far of assuring you of the -depth and sincerity of my feelings towards you--of my devotion. You -must allow they have been well tested. And they have stood the test! I -ask you now to be my wife--my happiness is in your hands." - -"And I, Mr Gresham," Philippa said at last, her dark eyes turned full -upon him, "decline, distinctly and definitely decline, the honour you -have done me." He grew scarlet. - -"What do you mean?" he said, for once almost rudely. "What has all this -conversation been about, if this was what you intended? What was your -motive for telling me all you have done? Have I offended you, and how? -Your pride has taken fire in some unreasonable way. How can I assure -you that the thing will not weigh further with me--that--that--I shall -do my best to forget it? Where would you be so protected as in the -position of my wife?" - -"I understand you perfectly, Mr Gresham," Philippa replied in a calm -even voice, "though at the same time I confess that previously to this -conversation I had lamentably failed to do so. On my side, I thank you -for your candour, and I repeat, as decidedly as words can convey my -meaning, that I decline the proposal you have made me." - -He still seemed unable to believe her. - -"Have you been playing with me all this time?" he said, harshly. "It is -inconceivable. But what can be your reason for changing so suddenly? I -have a right to ask, and a right to know." - -"Yes," she said, "perhaps you have, though I do not know that my reason -will much enlighten you. It is simply this. I am entirely convinced -that we are utterly unsuited to each other, and that in marrying you I -should be entering upon what would prove a tremendous mistake. You do -not, and never would, understand me; surely that should suffice." - -He smiled, bitterly enough. Something in her manner carried conviction -home to him, through all the thick folds of his self-esteem. - -"And may I inquire further," he said, "what has thus magically caused -the scales to fall from your eyes as regards my poor desserts? For you -allow, you could not indeed do otherwise, that the change, however -complete, is a very sudden one?" - -She turned and looked at him. There was a strange wistfulness in her -expression. - -"No," she said, sadly; "I am sorry if I have caused you any pain, but I -cannot explain anything more. You would not understand. I am very -tired," she continued, "I do not want to go farther. Would you mind -walking back to meet my brother-in-law and tell him I have gone straight -home to Palden? I can find my way from here." - -He bowed without speaking and turned away, too absorbed by his own -intense mortification to give much heed to her last words, or to feel -any compassion for the suffering too plainly betrayed by her white face -and faltering voice. - -The sound of his retreating footsteps on the crisp, dry path died -rapidly away, and Philippa was alone. - -CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. - -ENDED. - -For a few moments the withdrawal of the intense restraint she had put -upon herself caused all other feelings to be merged in that of relief. -Philippa glanced round her, and seeing a moss-covered tree stump a few -paces off, she made her way to it and sat down. - -Then slowly, but all too surely, crept up, one by one, the reflections -she could not but face. - -It seemed to her that years had passed since Evelyn and her husband had -turned back, leaving her and her late companion by themselves. - -Yes, indeed, to use his own words; "the scales had fallen from her -eyes," and yet how almost intangible it all seemed! How little some -people would understand the terrible and complete revulsion of feeling -which had overwhelmed her! - -"Nothing," she thought, "nothing can be quite so horrible as to find -that one has been worshipping an idol of clay; a thing which did not -exist except in my own imagination. I have no right to feel resentful. -Taking him for what he is, he did not behave badly. He evidently -_meant_ to be generous and chivalrous. But the pain of it to me is none -the less. It is far, far worse, at least so it seems to me just now, -than to have found out that he did not care for me as I did for him, and -yet to have kept my ideal. `Disillusionment' is horrible." - -The tears slowly welled up into her eyes. She brushed them away -indignantly. - -"What a weak fool I am!" she thought. "If I had any strength of -character, I _should_ be, I suppose, glad to have found it out in time." - -For bitterly as she was suffering, she was spared the misery of any -wavering as to the necessity of her decision. It was done, once for -all, done! But other considerations could not be altogether stifled, -and Philippa was still very young. - -"It is so disappointing," she said, half audibly, "in smaller ways, too. -Poor Evey, I know how she has been wishing for it, and, I am afraid, -mamma! I am only thankful not to have let myself go further, even in -fancy. I shall soon be able to pull myself together," and a sort of -wave of courage and even relief seemed to sweep over her, to her own -surprise. - -How was it that she was not more crushed? After all, she asked herself -in the clearer light of her present vision, _was_ the "disillusionment" -so entirely unexpected? Had she, unconsciously, blinded herself, and -refused to admit the possibility of the "something wanting" in Bernard -Gresham's character? If not, whence had arisen her constant -self-questionings as to how her confession would be received? Why the -doubts that _were_ there all the time? often as she had repeated to -herself that after all she had done nothing wrong, nothing really -calling for shame or self-abasement. - -But her mind was growing too wearied and confused to think out this new -suggestion. She shivered slightly. - -"Oh, how I wish I were at home," she thought, "and could tell mamma -everything! She would understand better than I do myself. It is just -as if a door had shut in front of me and all was blank!" - -It was really growing cold, for the evenings were still chilly, with the -chilliness of early spring, and the sun had gone down some time before. -Philippa got up. How long she had sat there she could not tell, and -confidently as she had spoken of knowing her way to Palden, she was -really slightly at a loss, though familiar with the general direction -she should keep to. She retraced her steps for some little distance -till she came to a point whence another path should lead to the -high-road. She came upon this side-path more quickly than she had -expected, but turned into it without misgiving, and satisfied that she -would come out at the right place, she walked on, allowing her thoughts -to re-absorb her. In spite of herself her imagination persisted in -re-enacting, mistily yet painfully, the events of the afternoon, till -she almost felt that she could bear it no longer. But there came a -diversion. Suddenly it struck her that the distance to the high-road -was strangely long. She stopped short and looked about her. There was -no sign of the wood coming to an end; on the contrary, the trees seemed -thicker than before. - -"I must have taken the wrong path," she thought, drearily. "Indeed, -this is scarcely like a path at all. I had better go back again, I -suppose; I may come across the other." - -She turned and went on, looking about her attentively. Some twenty -yards or so farther back, the footpath she was on joined another. - -"I must have gone wrong here," she said, and, though with some little -hesitation, she turned again. - -But it was no use; she only seemed to plunge deeper into the wood, -though she tried more than one intercepting path. She was growing very -tired, and a feeling of irritation at herself added to her discomfort. - -"I really need not have brought this upon myself," she thought, "If I -don't find my way home soon, there will be a hue and cry after me; -nothing could be more odious." - -It was with a feeling of relief that at last she heard the sound of some -one approaching. Scarcely of footsteps; it was more a rustle among the -still thickly strewn dead leaves of the previous autumn, which by -degrees grew into a patter of little feet. - -"Solomon!" she exclaimed, as the dog rushed at her in effusive greeting. - -But Solomon's appearance meant that of his master as well. - -"I must make the best of it," thought Philippa, as she realised this. -"He will at any rate be able to show me the way to Palden, and if he has -not met his cousin he need not suspect anything. I will just tell him I -have lost my way." - -A second or two later, Michael Gresham came within view. He started in -astonishment as he caught sight of the girl. - -"Miss Raynsworth!" he exclaimed, naturally quite forgetful of the fact -that this was the first time he had met her in her own character. -"How--why--are you alone?" - -She looked up at him. It was evident, to her relief, that his first -sensation at seeing her was that of pure surprise. But as his glance -fell on her white, almost drawn face, and her unmistakable look of -exhaustion, his expression warmed into one of deep concern. - -"Something has happened," he thought to himself. "That mean-spirited -fellow. Can I have made mischief when I meant to shield her? His -clumsy vanity has done it, no doubt." - -But it was with matter-of-fact kindliness only that he went on to speak -to her. - -"You are looking so dreadfully tired," he said. "Where are the others? -I thought you all started together. Have you lost your way?" - -"Yes," said Philippa, with a kind of gasp. "Evelyn, my sister, got -tired, and they turned back. I--I thought I could find the road to -Palden by myself." - -The very incoherence of her explanation enlightened him. - -"Get off, Solomon," he exclaimed, in a gruffer tone than the dachshund, -still leaping and jumping about Philippa, was accustomed to. "He has -not forgotten you, you see," Michael went on, eager to say something or -anything to hide his own suspicion of the situation. Then the colour -rose quickly to his face as he realised the awkwardness of the allusion. - -"I should say--" he began again, but Philippa, oblivious of any cause -for embarrassment in his words, answered, quietly: - -"No, the dear dog, and I have never forgotten him. But will you put me -on my road home? I _am very_ tired," she added, faintly, though trying -to smile. - -It seemed to Michael that her white face grew still whiter as she spoke. -He half started forward fearing she was going to fall, but she pulled -herself together again with a strong effort, and he, instinctively -divining that she was just the sort of girl to detest anything -approaching to a "scene," drew back quickly and went on speaking as if -he had not noticed the passing weakness which had come over her. - -"You have not wandered so very far after all," he said. "Every turn in -these woods has been familiar to me since I was a child, so I can soon -set you right. But,"--and here he was forced to allude to her exhausted -condition--"do you think you can possibly walk back all the way to -Palden?" - -He did not in the least allude to her returning to Merle, there to join -her friends, as would have seemed natural under the circumstances. At -the moment Philippa scarcely realised the tact which prompted this -omission, or rather in some unconscious way she took it for granted, as -indeed, on looking back afterwards, she saw that she had accepted with -tacit confidence the strong and kind support of his presence. - -A few minutes dexterous steering among the trees brought them out on to -the path she had originally meant to follow, which led directly to the -high-road. - -Arrived there, Michael stopped short and looked at her consideringly. A -little colour, he was glad to see, had returned to her cheeks; there was -no longer the ghastly pallor which had made her look as if on the point -of fainting. - -"She is a strong girl," he thought to himself, "physically and morally, -but she has been through a bad bit of experience. Disillusionment, if -it has been that, goes hard with such as she." - -And disillusionment he had reason to suspect it had been. - -"Bernard would never have left her alone in this way, selfish as he is, -unless he had been made to feel himself very small. As things are, I -must risk annoying her by my officiousness; she is not fit to walk -farther alone." - -Philippa was unconscious of his scrutiny. She was gazing up and down -the road half vaguely. - -"Which way--" she was beginning, but Michael interrupted her. - -"Miss Raynsworth," he said, "you mustn't mind my saying that I really -can't let you go all the way home alone. It is getting dusk, and you -own to being very tired." - -"Very well," said Philippa, simply. "I mean--I should say `thank you,'" -and again she smiled, and to Michael there was something more pathetic -in her smile than if there had been tears in her eyes. "How far is it -to Palden? Somehow I am really not as tired as when you first met me." - -"If you don't mind cross-cuts and skirting one or two ploughed fields," -he said, more lightly, "it need not be more than a mile and a half." - -"I should like to get back as soon as my sister, if possible," said -Philippa. "I don't want them to be frightened about me." - -She made no attempt at any explanation of the complications she had -risked. She felt now a curious but satisfactory indifference to what -her companion thought of the whole affair, rather perhaps an -unacknowledged reliance on the kindliness of his judgment. And when he -left her within fifty yards or so of the entrance to the Grange, and she -had said good-bye, with a word of thanks, she felt amazed at herself. - -"What am I made of?" she thought. "An hour ago I felt as if everything -worth living for had gone from me--as if I could never trust any one -again, or dare to believe in happiness. Is this a phase I must pass -through? Will that terrible mortification and disappointment come back -again blacker than ever?" She shivered as she thought of it. "Or," as -she stood still for a moment and looked after the sturdy figure of -Michael Gresham striding away with little Solomon at his heels, "or am I -only extraordinarily superficial and impressionable, or"--yet another -"or"--"is there something invigorating about that man? He does feel so -_true_." - -From whatever source her new-found strength had been derived, it stood -her in good stead that evening. - -Five minutes later the Merle dog-cart drove up, and Duke and Evelyn got -down with disturbed faces, which scarcely cleared when they caught sight -of her at the hall door, where she had purposely stationed herself to -meet them. - -"I am so glad I got home first," she said. "I was afraid you might be -uneasy about me. I have only just come in." - -"Uneasy," repeated Evelyn in a peculiar tone of voice, as she came into -the house, Captain Headfort remaining behind to say something to the -groom who had accompanied them from Merle, after a furtive and somewhat -self-conscious glance in his sister-in-law's direction. "`Uneasy!' -that's scarcely the word to use, Philippa, under the circumstances. You -must know better than that surely." - -"What do you mean?" said Philippa, quietly, already scenting war. "Come -into the drawing-room, there's a good fire there, and I daresay you are -feeling cold." - -She had felt uncertain how to meet Evelyn; a word of tenderness or -sympathy would have disarmed her, and she would probably have given her -sister the fullness of confidence she had been longing to pour out to -her mother. But Mrs Headfort's tone braced her to composure and -dignity. For the moment, perhaps, she did not allow herself to do -justice to the latter's natural and by no means altogether selfish -disappointment and anxiety. - -"It is better," Philippa thought quickly, "as some explanation is -inevitable, to have it out at once, and done with, as far as Evey is -concerned. Poor Evey!" she went on to herself, with a sudden revulsion -of sympathy towards her sister, as her glance fell on the lines of -distress which never seemed natural on Evelyn's soft, childlike face. -But to this sort of feeling she felt she must not yield, "Why are you -annoyed with me, Evelyn?" she said, directly, "for of course I know you -are so. It is better to speak plainly." - -"It is not candid of you to try to turn the tables in that way," said -Evelyn, hotly. "You know perfectly why I am angry with you. You have -behaved--you _must_ have behaved in the most extraordinary way to Mr -Gresham, after--encouraging him as you have done." - -Philippa bit her lips to keep back an indignant reply, "What has he said -to you?" she asked, composedly. "Very little," said Evelyn. "Very few -men would have behaved as well as he has done. He only told me that you -had insisted on going home alone, and that he was completely at a loss -to understand you. Of course I knew what he meant--that you had refused -him." Then, with a sudden change of tone, "Is it too late, Philippa?" -she added, almost in entreaty, "Can I do nothing to put things right?" - -Her eagerness touched Philippa. - -"Listen, Evey," she said, almost solemnly, "and then never let us allude -to this matter again. I cannot go into all the details of what passed -between Mr Gresham and me. It would be no use. I doubt if _any one_, -except perhaps mamma, would quite enter into what I feel. But I must -just tell you this. I am as convinced as if I had thought it over for -years that he and I are entirely, radically unsuited to each other, and -so there is an end of it. Do believe that I absolutely mean what I say, -and know what I mean." Evelyn's eyes filled with tears. Something in -her sister's manner carried conviction with it. - -"Oh, Phil," she said, "you are a far stronger character than I, I know, -and I must, I suppose, give in to you; you must know best. But it does -seem such a pity--such an awful pity! And what can have changed your -opinion of him so suddenly?" - -"Was it suddenly?" said Philippa, dreamily. "Some things seem to have -nothing to do with time, and, after all, was it not,"--but here she -stopped abruptly--"was it not," finishing the sentence in her own mind, -"lurking there already, the doubt of him? the suspicion of there not -being any real sympathy between us?" - -"Don't misunderstand me, Evey!" she went on aloud. "I am terribly sorry -to have been the cause of anything,"--she hesitated--"mortifying or -disappointing to him, though I daresay it will not last long," with a -little smile. "I do him full justice, and I hope he will marry some one -who will make him far happier than I could have done," she ended, -earnestly, and the complete absence of bitterness in her tone was more -convincing to her sister than anything else could have been that her -castle in the air was doomed to no tangible existence. - -Of all those concerned in the little drama which had that day been -enacted at Merle-in-the-Wold, perhaps the one the least painfully -affected, full of sympathy though he had been for the girl whom he -seemed fated to meet under such curious circumstances, was Michael -Gresham. - -CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. - -CHARLEY'S FRIEND. - -Two years! A very short time to the old, but not so to the young, -especially in anticipation. That autumn day when Philippa Raynsworth -bade good-bye to her kind friends at Dorriford, she little expected that -twice twelve months would pass before she returned there, and had this -period been then alluded to, it would have seemed to her half a lifetime -off. - -What might not happen in two years? To her, standing at the very -threshold of life, with every possibility before her, two years would -have been almost like two score. - -Yet when, in the autumn but one following the Easter of her first visit -to Palden, she found herself again at Dorriford, she could hardly -believe that two whole years had elapsed since the day when Mrs Lermont -kissed her so affectionately, and made her promise to return to them as -soon as she could do so. - -She was again within a day or two of leaving them, after a quiet but -pleasant fortnight with Maida--poor Maida, she was no stronger in -health, possibly a shade more fragile than when she and Philippa had -last met. But as ever, the fact of her invalidism was never obtruded on -those about her, even, on the contrary, to a great extent ignored. - -They--the two cousins--had been strolling for a little, a very little -only was all Miss Lermont was able for now--up and down the already -leaf-strewn drive. The day was mild and calm, a typical autumn day. - -Suddenly Maida spoke. - -"Do you remember, Philippa," she said--"it has just come back to me--the -last time you were here, our standing in the porch and watching the -Bertrams drive away?" - -Philippa smiled. There was no bitterness in her smile, though it was -perhaps a little sad. - -"Yes," she said, with a little bending of her head as she spoke, "yes, I -remember." - -Maida glanced at her. - -"You are changed since then," she went on. - -"It is two years ago," said Philippa. "Two years may alter one a good -deal--even less time than that--for I recollect your saying at Cannes, -within six months of the time I was here, that I had changed." - -"I remember it, too," said her cousin. "But now I should express it -differently. At Cannes you were _changing_; you seemed unsettled and -uncertain, though in some ways matured, and--do not be hurt at the -word--softened. But now you _are_ changed, the process is completed." - -"I hope for the better?" inquired Philippa. She spoke lightly, but -there was an undercurrent of earnestness in her words, too. - -"To my mind, if it is not impertinent of me to give my opinion," said -Maida, gently, "very certainly _yes_. You are just what I pictured you -would be as a full-grown woman, though--" - -"Don't stop short. I like to know all you feel about me. It does me -good." - -"I was going to say I scarcely saw how anything but the discipline of -sorrow could make you _quite_ what I wanted you to be, my darling," Miss -Lermont replied. And the unwonted expression of affection touched -Philippa. "And I trembled at the thought. I am cowardly about -suffering for those I love. Yet how short-sighted we are! Here you -are, with all the softening, and mellowing, and widening I hoped for, -done--and yet--no special suffering has, so far as I know, fallen to -your share. Don't think me inquisitive," she added, hastily. "I don't -want you to tell me anything you would rather not." - -Philippa hesitated. - -"I have often thought of telling you the whole history of my life during -the six or eight months after I was last here," she said. "All my -experiences--my personal experiences, I mean--seemed compressed into -that time. Since then things have gone on very monotonously, though I -have not been either dull or unhappy. You see it was so clear to me -that it was my duty to stay at home and help papa again, after Charley -so unexpectedly got that splendid piece of work in India. And with -Evelyn settled at home so comfortably and no anxiety about her, things -just settled down somehow. These last eighteen months have been most -uneventful." - -"You might have varied them by a _little_ visit to us," said Maida. - -"Truly I could not," Philippa replied, earnestly. "The one time I could -have come, you remember Mrs Lermont was ill and you were fully engaged. -I have only been to Palden once--that was last winter--for ten days." - -"Is not Evelyn vexed with you for not going more frequently?" - -"No," said Philippa. "She knows I could not help it. Now, of course-- -with Charley back--I shall be comparatively free. But--I don't care to -go much to Palden." - -"I think I know why," said Maida. "Has it not to do with what you have -often thought of telling me? And _are_ you going to tell it to me?" - -"On the whole," said Philippa, "if you will not think me capricious, I -_think_ I would rather not. Some day, perhaps." - -"As you like, dear, exactly and entirely as you like. But--if I may ask -you something?" - -"Of course you may." - -"I would like to know--I cannot quite master my curiosity, you see, and -indeed it is more interest in you than curiosity--I _would_ like to know -why you refused Bernard Gresham. For I am sure you did refuse him." - -"Yes, I did," said Philippa, simply. "And I do not at all mind telling -you why. It was just because I became entirely convinced that he and I -were thoroughly unsuited to each other." - -Maida made a little gesture of agreement. - -"I should not express it quite as you do," she said. "_I_ should say he -was not worthy of you--not that I think ill of him in any way, but he is -simply on a different level altogether. At first, I will own to you, I -was disappointed when I saw it was not going to be. I was `worldly' -_for_ you, Philippa. But I saw more of him again at Cannes last winter, -and--I lost all feeling of disappointment. Even when I thought that you -had refused to marry out of exaggerated ideas as to your duties at -home--even _then_ I did not regret it." - -Philippa shook her head. - -"No," she said, "home things had nothing to do with it. At the time I -refused him there was no special need of me at home. And my parents are -too unselfish to have allowed a sacrifice of that kind; something else -would have been arranged. No; I have given you my full reason. But-- -how I came to find out what I did--that," with a slight smile, "is my -secret. And my great reason for not telling you the whole story is that -I know mamma would _rather_ I did not tell it, even to you." - -"She knows everything?" - -"Everything," said Philippa, "and she does so `understand.' And never -for one moment have I regretted what I did. But Evey," she went on, -"poor Evey, is still a little sore about it. She does not know _quite_ -the whole, as mamma does." - -"Thank you, dear, for telling me all you have done," said Maida. And -then after a little pause: "Do you think you will never marry, Philippa? -Has it left that feeling?" - -"No, not exactly," said the girl, frankly. "You see, after all, it was -_not_ him I cared for; it was something I believed, or thought I -believed him to be. I don't _think_ I shall ever marry, however. I -suppose, though it sounds rather conceited to say so, that it would be -difficult for me ever to feel quite sure I was not making a mistake." - -She looked down at Miss Lermont as she spoke--Maida was by this time -indoors and on her couch again--with a half-questioning look in her -eyes. - -"Don't exaggerate that idea," her friend replied, rather abruptly. -"After all, every woman is in the same case? And remember you have not -seen many men; your life has been to some extent isolated. Don't begin -to think there are hardly any happy marriages. It is a trick of the day -to talk so." - -Philippa's face grew rather red. - -"Don't snub me so severely," she said. "Put a little of my hesitation -down to humility." - -Miss Lermont laughed. - -"Ah, well," she said. "If the time ever comes when your hesitation -vanishes, promise to let me know at once." - -Philippa was to leave Dorriford the next day. That morning brought her -a letter from her brother Charley. - -"I am only writing," he said, "to make sure of your keeping to your -train. I am going up to town for a night, and will meet you at the -junction to-morrow on my way home again. And, by-the-by, I am half -thinking of asking a friend to stay two or three days with us. I had -not time to tell you about him before you left home,"--for Charley -Raynsworth had only returned from the East a day or two before -Philippa's visit to the Lermonts--"we had so much to talk about. He is -a civil engineer whom I saw a good deal of in India, and he came home a -few weeks ago for good. His name is Gresham--he says he met you at -Merle once. Do you remember him? I am sure my father and all of you -will like him." - -Philippa's breath came quick and short for a moment on reading these -words. - -"How strange," she thought, "that Charley and he should have been thrown -together! `Met me at Merle'--yes, indeed--_that day_! Once I see him I -daresay it will seem all right. But just at present I feel almost more -self-conscious about our last meeting than about the time at Wyverston. -I wonder," she added to herself, "if dear Solomon has been in India -too!" - -There was still a little flush of excitement on her face when she ran -up-stairs to say good-bye to her cousin Maida, whose slowly increasing -weakness was steadily but surely diminishing the hours which she was -each day able to spend down-stairs. - -"How well you are looking this morning, dear! Are you so delighted to -go home, and not the least bit sorry to leave us?" she said, with -half-playful reproach. - -"Of _course_ I am sorry to leave you, dear, dear Maida," said Philippa, -tenderly. "I am feeling very pleased though, this morning, for I have -just heard that Charley will meet me at the junction, and I don't think -I had fully realised how nice it is to have him back again," she added -in explanation, which was strictly true so far as it went. And indeed -in her anticipation of meeting Michael Gresham again, she could scarcely -have described her sensations as pleasurable or the reverse. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -A few words from Philippa announcing her safe arrival at home, and -ending with affectionate expressions of gratitude to her kind cousins, -reached Dorriford the following day. - -Then came a blank extending over a fortnight, by the end of which time -Miss Lermont began to fear that something must be the matter at -Greenleaves. - -She was on the point of writing again to Philippa to inquire the cause -of her silence, when a letter arrived. It was a long letter and marked -"private," though no restrictions were placed on Maida as to making -known to her family the news it contained. - -"My hesitation has vanished," were the words with which Philippa -preluded the announcement of her engagement to Michael Gresham. "I am -_perfectly_ happy, _perfectly_ satisfied, though it has been difficult -for me to believe myself worthy of him. But as _he_ thinks I am--" - -More practical details followed. It was not a "brilliant" marriage, -such as Evelyn Headfort had dreamt of for her sister. A life of some -restrictions, even possibly of a certain amount of struggle, was before -her and Michael, but a life brightened and ennobled by high aims and -many worthy interests outside themselves, by, above all, completest -confidence and mutual sympathy. - -"It seems almost ideal," thought Maida, as she finished the letter. "I -can feel no fears or apprehensions about a marriage like that, whatever -the world may say as to the necessity of wealth." - -For Maida's eyes were growing very clear as to the real estimate of -things--she was nearing the heights where earth-born clouds and mists -begin to melt away in the everlasting sunshine. - -Up to the present time, Bernard Gresham is still unmarried, not having -as yet succeeded in discovering the flawless gem among women, to whom he -could without misgiving entrust his happiness, and who alone would be -fitted to shine as mistress of Merle. He now by no means regrets -Philippa's little looked-for refusal of the honour he laid before her, -vainly as he has endeavoured satisfactorily to account to himself for -it. But as his cousin's wife he quite approves of her, and he is always -ready cordially to welcome her and her husband when they can spare a -week or two for a visit to Merle, on which occasions it is unnecessary -to say that "Solomon" again figures as one of Philippa's -fellow-travellers. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -The End. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Philippa, by Mrs Molesworth - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHILIPPA *** - -***** This file should be named 43169.txt or 43169.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/1/6/43169/ - -Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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