"What could I do?" he answered, almost incoherent with joy. "I thought you were treating me like a brother, and I feared to break in upon your grief. Oh, if you knew what I have suffered."
"I understood, and that only made me love you all the more," she replied, softly. "You have been winning my heart slowly ever since that evening--you remember it?--in the kitchen garden."
"When you almost broke my heart, was I likely to forget it, do you think?"
"You startled me. I had only a little love, but it has been growing ever since. Richard!" with her old archness, "you will not refuse to see the lawyers now?"
He coloured slightly, and his bright look clouded; but this time Ethel did not misunderstand him.
"Dear Richard, you cannot hate the riches more than I do, but they must never be mentioned again between us; they must be sacred to us as my father"s gift. I know you will help me to do what is right and good with them," she continued, in her winning way; "they are talents we must use, and not abuse."
"You have rebuked me, my dearest," returned Richard, tenderly; "it is I who have been faithless and a coward. I will accept the charge you have given me; and thank G.o.d at the same time for your n.o.ble heart."
So the long-desired gift had come into Richard Lambert"s keeping, and the woman he had loved from boyhood had consented to be his wife.
The young master of Kirkleatham ruled well and wisely, and Ethel proved a n.o.ble helpmeet. When some years later his father died, and he became vicar of Kirkby Stephen, the parish had reason to bless the strong heart and head, and the munificent hands that were never weary of giving. And "our vicar" rivalled even the good doctor"s popularity.
And what of Olive and Hugh Marsden?
Mildred"s words had come true.
There were long lonely years before Hugh Marsden--years of incessant toil and Herculean labour, which should stoop his broad shoulders and streak his dark hair with gray, when men should speak of the n.o.ble missionary, Hugh Marsden, and of the incredible work carried forward by him beyond the pale of civilisation.
There was no limit to his endurance, no lack of cheerfulness in his efforts, they said; no labour was too great, no scheme too impracticable, no possibility too remote, for the energies of that arduous soul.
Hugh Marsden only smiled at their praise; he was free and unfettered; he had no wife or child; danger would touch him alone. What should hinder him from undertaking any enterprise in his Master"s service? But wherever he went in his lonely hours, or in his long sunshiny converse with others, he ever remained faithful to his memory of Olive; she was still to him the purest ideal of womanhood. At times her face, with its cloudy dark hair and fathomless eyes, would haunt him with strange persistence. Whole lines and pa.s.sages of her poetry would return to his memory, stirring him with subtle sweetness and vague longings for home.
And Olive, how was it with her during those years of home duty, so patiently, so unselfishly performed? While she achieved her modest fame, and carried it so meekly, had she any remembrance of Hugh Marsden?
"I remember all the more that I try to forget," she said once when Mildred had put this question to her. "Now I shall try no more, for I know I cannot forget him." And again there had been that sadness in her voice. But she never spoke of him voluntarily even to Mildred, but hid in her quiet soul many a secret yearning. They were separated thousands of miles, yet his honest face and voice were often present with her, and never nearer than when she whispered prayers for the friend who had once loved her.
And neither of them knew that the years would bring them together again; that one day, Hugh Marsden, broken in health, and craving for a sight of his native land, should be sent home on an important mission, to find Olive free and unfettered, and waiting for him in her brother"s home.
THE END
THE NOVELS OF ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY.
NELLIE"S MEMORIES.
_STANDARD._--"Miss Carey has the gift of writing naturally and simply, her pathos is true and unforced, and her conversations are sprightly and sharp."
WEE WIFIE.
_LADY._--"Miss Carey"s novels are always welcome; they are out of the common run, immaculately pure, and very high in tone."
BARBARA HEATHCOTE"S TRIAL.
_DAILY TELEGRAPH._--"A novel of a sort which it would be a real loss to miss."
ROBERT ORD"S ATONEMENT.
_STANDARD._--"Robert Ord"s Atonement is a delightful book, very quiet as to its story, but very strong in character, and instinctive with that delicate pathos which is the salient point of all the writings of this author."
WOOED AND MARRIED.
_STANDARD._--"There is plenty of romance in the heroine"s life. But it would not be fair to tell our readers wherein that romance consists or how it ends. Let them read the book for themselves. We will undertake to promise that they will like it."
HERIOT"S CHOICE.
_MORNING POST._--"Deserves to be extensively known and read.... Will doubtless find as many admirers as readers."
QUEENIE"S WHIM.
_GUARDIAN._--"A thoroughly good and wholesome story."
NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS.
_PALL MALL GAZETTE._--"Like all the other stories we have had from the same gifted pen, this volume, Not Like Other Girls, takes a sane and healthy view of life and its concerns.... It is an excellent story to put in the hands of girls."
_NEW YORK HOME JOURNAL._--"One of the sweetest, daintiest, and most interesting of the season"s publications."
MARY ST. JOHN.
_JOHN BULL._--"The story is a simple one, but told with much grace and unaffected pathos."
FOR LILIAS.
_VANITY FAIR._--"A simple, earnest, and withal very interesting story; well conceived, carefully worked out, and sympathetically told."
UNCLE MAX.
_LADY._--"So intrinsically good that the world of novel-readers ought to be genuinely grateful."