He gave her a short nod, and went on into the parlour, treading upon the mats so as to make no sound, and there finding Sage so preoccupied that, as she sat with her back to him, she did not notice her uncle"s entrance.
Pen, ink, and paper were before her, and on her right an envelope.
This was directed in a plain, clear hand--so plain that the farmer could easily read it from where he stood.
It bore the name of Luke Ross, and she had prepared the envelope before writing her letter, for upon the sheet of paper was the date, and then came the three words, "My dear Luke."
That was all, and the marks that followed upon the paper were made by tears.
"It is like living a lie," he heard her say, with a pa.s.sionate sigh; and then she started up, for she became aware of her uncle"s presence in the room.
"Why, Sage, la.s.s," he said, gently, "do you always cry over your letters to Luke Ross?"
She looked piteously in his face, but said no word.
"Is it because he is so long away, my la.s.s? Well, well, we shall have him back these holidays, and it won"t be long."
He was watching her intently as he spoke, and he saw that not only did she turn pale, but a spasm as of pain crossed her face.
"Thou dost not look well, my pet," he said, gently. "There, there, put the writing away, and come and sit by me while I have my pipe. I don"t like my little one to be so dull. Why, Sage, what"s come of all the songs? You used to be always singing and making the house cheery. I"m thinking you work too hard."
"Oh, no, no, uncle," she cried, forcing a smile.
"Then you think too much, child. You must have more change. Parson didn"t come in here, did he, my la.s.s?"
"No, uncle," she said, starting.
"No, I thought he wouldn"t; but he came to meet me, and he brought a message for thee, my girl."
"For me, uncle?" she cried, crimsoning to the parting of her hair.
"Ay, he did. He says he has to be out a deal, and Mrs Mallow finds it lonesome at times without her girls; and he said, as a favour, would you mind going up and seeing her, and sitting with her and reading a bit?"
"Oh, no, uncle," faltered Sage, crimsoning more deeply, every trace of emotion being duly noted by him who was probing her to the quick. "But would Mrs Mallow--?"
She paused without finishing her sentence.
"Like it?" he said, finishing the sentence for her. "To be sure she would, my pet. What a one I am to deliver a message. It was her who asked the Rector to bid you come; and, as I thought you wouldn"t mind, I just said that you would go."
"Oh, uncle, but I--I dare not," cried Sage, excitedly.
"Stuff! Tchah! Nonsense, my dear. What"s to be afraid of! They"re gentlepeople, I s"pose, but they"re only human beings after all, and you"ve nothing to be ashamed of, I"m sure. I told parson you"d go on this afternoon, as there was no school, and he said I was not to be uneasy, for some one should see you home."
Sage"s colour came and went as she sat there trembling, and painfully conscious.
Some one should see her home--some one should see her home. The words kept repeating themselves in her ears till she felt giddy.
What did it all mean? Why did her uncle speak to her in this gentle way? What more had pa.s.sed between him and the Rector?
She gazed in his face at this, and a score more such questions repeated themselves, while the answers seemed far away.
"Go up to the rectory to-day, uncle?" she faltered at last. "I dare not go."
"But I wish you to go," he said, decidedly, and Sage"s heart gave one great joyful throb.
Had it been left to her she would have stayed away, but her uncle wished her to go--he literally bade her go.
The end of the matter was, that after being egged on by her aunt to dress herself in the showiest things she possessed, and having the good sense, in spite of the feeling of delirious joy that had taken possession of her, to attire herself with great simplicity, she walked, with fluttering heart, up to the rectory, where the Rev Eli Mallow himself met her at the door with a paternal _empress.e.m.e.nt_ of manner that was quite tender in its way, as he drew her hand through his arm, and led her up-stairs to Mrs Mallow"s room.
PART ONE, CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.
WELCOMED.
Sage trembled as she accompanied the Rector, and in her agitation everything seemed unreal and strange. A mist floated before her eyes, and the room seemed to be sailing round, till she felt herself led to a chair, and a thin, soft, cool hand take hers, drawing her forward, till she bent down, and felt a pair of lips press her cheek, and sigh gently.
"I am very glad to see you, Miss Portlock--I think I may call you Sage now."
She answered something that was inaudible to herself, feeling angry the while at what she called her awkwardness and confusion, as she longed for confidence, and the power to be more at her ease, little thinking that her timid, modest behaviour was winning a way for her rapidly in the poor invalid"s heart; while, in spite of the pride that interfered somewhat with the Rector"s generosity of feeling, he could not help thinking that after all, with such a woman for his wife, a change for the better must follow in his son.
By degrees Sage grew more composed, especially when the Rector patted her gently on the arm, and asked her to excuse him while he wrote a letter or two for that day"s post; "to my daughters in town, my dear,"
he said; and she was left alone with Mrs Mallow, whose careworn but sweetly-pensive face looked up, smiling tenderly in hers.
It was a delightful afternoon, and Sage would have been truly happy if she could have stood out fully in the sunshine instead of in the shadow cast across her thoughts by the remembrance of Luke Ross.
Nothing special was said, but it was quite patent to the visitor that all objection to Cyril Mallow"s attentions to her had been withdrawn on either side, and that she had been asked up there that Mrs Mallow might welcome her as her son"s future wife.
Sage"s heart beat fast, for she owned to it most fully now. It was wrong. She was faithless, but she did love Cyril, and giving herself up to the current of joyous thoughts, she allowed it to bear her softly on.
The interview grew more dream-like to her minute by minute as she listened to the burden of Mrs Mallow"s discourse, and fetched for her books, pictures, little drawers, and folios, whose contents the fond mother never wearied of displaying. Always the same tune, "My sons,"
and ever something fresh to display. Cyril"s first copybook, his early letters to her from school, the sketches Frank had made, a little piece of poetry he had tried to write and never finished, broken toys, Cyril"s baby shoes, one after the other, an endless list of little trifles, all of which had to be carefully returned to their places in the treasured store.
Then the fond mother poured into the nowise unwilling ears anecdote after anecdote of Cyril"s goodness, the endless little attentions he had paid her, and the presents he had brought again and again--anecdote and present being of the most ordinary type, but gilded and burnished by motherly love till they shone with glowing l.u.s.tre in Sage"s eyes.
It was a delicious time, and there was a soft, warm glow in her cheeks as she entered so thoroughly into the mother"s feelings, gaining confidence by degrees, but only to blush with confusion, and then turn pale with the pang she felt as Mrs Mallow drew her down into a close embrace, and whispered, softly--
"Bless you, my child! I am not surprised that Cyril should love you with all his heart."
The tears of both were flowing, and the aching pain increased as Sage thought that Luke Ross also loved her with all his heart.
But there was no time for such thoughts, for just then the door opened softly, and the Rector entered, Sage starting up and looking confused; but she was set at ease directly, for he took her tenderly in his arms and kissed her, saying--
"G.o.d bless you, my child! We must have no half welcome now. I see you have won poor mamma"s heart, so I surrender mine. There, there, my dear; don"t cry! You have a pleasant little mission here."
Sage looked up at him wonderingly.
"To make three people very happy, my dear, and that I am sure you are going to do."