He was out of the carriage in a moment, and walking down the avenue, feeling as if he only now was in the right way home; but a misgiving crossing him as he came nearer the two figures that had attracted him--there was less resemblance on a nearer view than in the general air when further off.
A shout--"Hollo, John!" settled all doubts.
"Arthur! is it you?" and the brothers" hands were locked together.
"Here is a gentleman you know something of, and who has thought very much of you," continued Arthur, proudly. "There, is not he like her?" as he tried to give a c.o.c.k-up to the limp, flapping straw hat, under shade of which Johnnie was glowing up to his curls.
"Her very look!" said John. "How is she, Arthur, and all of them?"
"All well. Have you not been at home yet!"
"No; I saw you here, and I could not help coming to meet you, that I might know if all was right."
"You would have found no one at home, unless my mother and Violet are come in. They are always creeping about together."
"Where is my father?"
"Looking after the workmen at the farm. We left him there because it was Johnnie"s supper-time. Why, John, what a hale, middle-aged looking subject you are grown! Was it not wonderful sagacity in me to know you?"
"Greater than mine," said John. "My instinct was failing as I came near.
Are you really well?"
"Never better. Johnnie and his mamma nursed me well again, and Helvellyn breezes blew away the remainder. When did you land?"
"This morning. We put in at Liverpool, and I came on at once. How is my mother? She had not been well."
"She was ailing all the winter, but a house full of grandchildren seems to have cured her completely. You will stare to see her a perfect slave to--our eldest girl," said Arthur, checking himself as he was about to speak the name, and John turned to the child.
"Well, Johnnie, and are you fond of riding?"
"With papa holding the rein," and Johnnie edged closer to his father.
"Ay! I hope your uncle did not expect a G.o.dson like your dear Coeur de Lion, whom you have been romancing about all the way home. What is the country your uncle has seen, and you want to see, Johnnie?"
"Please, don"t now, papa," whispered Johnnie, colouring deeply.
"Yes, yes, you shall have it out when you are better acquainted," said Arthur, patting both boy and pony. "Well, John, is this the fellow you expected?"
John smiled, but before he could answer, a voice from behind, shouting to them to wait, caused him to turn, exclaiming, "Percy! I did not know he was here! And Theodora!"
"He came a day or two ago--"
Theodora blushed crimson, and all the glad words of welcome were spoken by Percy; but he then fell into the background, taking charge of Johnnie, while the other three walked on together, Theodora"s arm within that of her eldest brother.
"Thank you for your letter," said Arthur. "It did me great good."
"My impulse was to have set out at once on receiving yours, but I was obliged to wait to get things into train for going on without me; and since that there have been delays of steamers."
"You could not have come at a better time. We only wanted you to make us complete--"
Arthur was interrupted by a joyous outcry of "Papa! papa!" from a little group on the other side of the road into which they were emerging.
"Ay! and who else! Look at this fellow!" cried he, catching from Sarah"s arm, and holding aloft an elf, whose round mouth and eyes were all laughter, and st.u.r.dy limbs all movement, the moment he appeared. "There!
have we not improved in babies since your time! And here is a round dumpling that calls itself Anna. And that piece of mischief is grandmamma"s girl, Aunt Theodora"s double."
Those flashing black eyes were not the ideal John had attached to the name which Arthur had paused to speak; but it would have been hard to be disappointed by the bright creature, who stood on the raised foot-path, pretending to hide her face with a bunch of tall foxgloves, and peeping out behind them to see whether she was noticed.
"The introduction is all on one side," said Percy. "Do you know who it is, Helen?"
Helen stuck her chin into her neck. She would tell her surmise to no one but Johnnie, who had persuaded Mr. Fotheringham to lift him from horseback, where he was never at ease with any one but papa. He looked up smiling: "Helen thinks it must be Uncle Martindale, because papa is so glad."
Helen ran away, but returned for a ride; and when the party, that had gathered like a snow-ball, came in front of the cottage, Percy was holding both little sisters on the pony at once, Theodora still leaning on her eldest brother"s arm, Johnnie gravely walking on the foot-path, studying his uncle, and Arthur, with the young Arthur pulling his whiskers all the time, was walking forwards and backwards, round and about his brother, somewhat in the ecstatic aimless fashion of a dog who meets his master.
He was the first to exclaim, "There she is! Run on, Johnnie, tell mamma and grandmamma whom we have here."
The first greeting was left exclusively to Lady Martindale. When John"s attention was again at liberty, Violet was standing by her husband, saying, with a sweet smile of playful complaint, "And you have shown him all the children and I was not there!"
"Never mind. They will show off much better with you, you jealous woman.
What does John think to hear you scolding?"
"Has he seen all the children?" said Lady Martindale, taking up the note. "Oh! what is Mr. Fotheringham doing with Helen and Annie? It is very dangerous!"
And Lady Martindale hastened to watch over the little girls, who, of course, were anything but grateful for her care, while Violet was asking John about his voyage, and inquiring after the interests he had left in Barbuda.
The first sight of her was a shock. The fragile roses that had dwelt on his imagination had faded away, and she was now, indeed, a beautiful woman,--but not the creature of smiles and tears whom he remembered.
The pensive expression, the stamp of anxiety, and the traces of long-continued over-exertion, were visible enough to prove to him that his fears had been fulfilled, and that she had suffered too deeply ever to return to what she had once been.
Yet never had John so enjoyed an arrival, nor felt so thoroughly at home, as when his father had joined them, full of quiet and heartfelt gladness. Stiffness and formality seemed to have vanished with the state rooms; and there was no longer the circle on company terms, for Lady Martindale herself was almost easy, and Theodora"s words, though few, were devoid of the sullen dignity of old times. Violet"s timidity, too, was gone, and the agitated wistful glances she used to steal towards her husband, had now become looks of perfect, confiding, yet fostering affection. John saw her appealed to, consulted, and put forward as important to each and all of the family party, as if every one of them depended on her as he had been wont to do, while she still looked as retiring as ever, and taken up by watching that the children behaved well.
The occupation of the evening was the looking over plans for the new house. Lord Martindale had them all ready, and John soon perceived that his father"s wishes were that he should prefer those which most nearly reproduced the original building, pulled down to please Mrs. Nesbit.
Lady Martindale had surprised them by making from memory a beautiful sketch of the former house; and her husband, to whom each line produced a fresh h.o.a.rd of reminiscences, was almost disappointed that John"s recollection did not go back far enough to recognize the likeness, though he was obliged to confess that not a wall of it was standing when he was two years old.
The general vote was, of course, that Old Martindale should be renewed,--and it was to be begun--when?
"When ways and means are found," said Lord Martindale. "We must talk over that another time, John."
John, as he bade Theodora good night, murmured thanks for the safety of all the properties which he had been surprised to find in the room prepared for him. Her eyes were liquid as she faltered her answer.
"O, John, it was such a pleasure! How much you have to forgive! How right you were, and how wrong I was!"
"Hush! not now," said John, kindly.
"Yes, now, I cannot look at you till I have said it. I have felt the truth of every word you said, and I beg your pardon for all that has pa.s.sed."
He pressed her hand in answer, saying, "It was my fault. But all is well now, and you know how I rejoice."
"Everything is everybody"s fault," said Percy, joining him; "but we must not stop to battle the point, or Mr. Hugh Martindale"s housekeeper will be irate. Good night, Theodora."
Percy and John were quartered at the Vicarage, and walked thither, at first in silence, till the former said, "Well, what do you think of it?"