CHAPTER x.x.xIII
GEORGE MAKES UP HIS MIND
Dusk was closing in when George and Edgar alighted at a little English station. Casting an eager glance about, George was disappointed to see n.o.body from his cousin"s house waiting to meet him. In another moment, however, he was warmly greeted by Ethel West.
"A very hearty welcome, George," she said. "You"re looking very fit, but thinner than you were when you left us. Stephen"s waiting outside.
He told Muriel we would drive you over; Herbert"s away somewhere."
"How"s everybody?" George inquired.
"Sylvia looked as charming as ever when I last saw her a few days ago,"
Ethel answered with a smile, which George was too eager to notice was somewhat forced. "The rest of us, are much as usual. But come along; we"ll send over afterward for your heavy things."
They turned toward the outlet, and found Stephen having some trouble with a horse that was startled by the roar of steam. Edgar got up in front of the high trap, George helped Ethel to the seat behind, and they set off the next moment, flying down the wet road amid a cheerful hammer of hoofs and a rattle of wheels. For the first few minutes George said little as he looked about. On one side great oaks and ashes raised their naked boughs in sharp tracery against the pale saffron glow in the western sky. Ahead, across a deep valley, which was streaked with trains of mist, wide moors and hills rolled away, gray and darkly blue. Down the long slope to the hollow ran small fields with great trees breaking the lines of hedgerows; and the brawling of a river swollen by recent rain came sharply up to him.
It was all good to look upon, a beautiful, well-cared-for land, and he felt a thrill of pride and satisfaction. This was home, and he had come back to it with his work done. A roseate future stretched away before him, its peaceful duties brightened by love, and the contrast between it and the stress and struggle of the past two years added to its charm. Still, to his astonishment, he thought of the sterner and more strenuous life he had led on the western plains with a faint, half-tender regret.
By and by Edgar"s laugh rang out.
"The change in my brother is remarkable," Ethel declared. "It was a very happy thought that made us let him go with you."
"I"m not responsible," George rejoined. "You have the country to thank. In some way, it"s a hard land; but it"s a good one."
"Perhaps something is due to Miss Taunton"s influence."
Edgar leaned over the back of the seat.
"That," he said, "is a subject of which I"ve a monopoly; and I"ve volumes to say upon it as soon as there"s a chance of doing it justice.
George, I hear that Singleton, who told us about the wheat, is home on a visit. Stephen has asked him over; you must meet him."
George said he would be glad to do so, and turned to Ethel when Edgar resumed his conversation with his brother.
"I wired Herbert to have everything ready at my place, though I shall spend the night at Brantholme."
"The Lodge is let. Didn"t you know?"
"I understood that the man"s tenancy ran out a few weeks ago."
"He renewed it. Herbert didn"t know you were coming over; the terms were good."
"Then I"m homeless for a time."
"Oh, no!" said Ethel. "Stephen wanted me to insist on your coming with us now, but I know you will want to see Muriel and have a talk with her. However, we"ll expect you to come and take up your quarters with us to-morrow."
George looked at her in some surprise.
"I"d be delighted, but Herbert will expect me to stay with him, and, of course--"
"Sylvia hadn"t arrived this afternoon; she was at Mrs. Kettering"s,"
Ethel told him. "But remember that you must stay with us until you make your arrangements. We should find it hard to forgive you if you went to anybody else."
"I wouldn"t think of it, only that Herbert"s the obvious person to entertain me," George replied, though he was a little puzzled by the insistence, and Ethel abruptly began to talk of something else.
Darkness came, but there were gleams of cheerful light from roadside cottages, and George found the fresh moist air and the shadowy woods they skirted pleasantly familiar. This was the quiet English countryside he loved, and a sense of deep and tranquil content possessed him. He failed to notice that Ethel cleverly avoided answering some of his questions and talked rather more than usual about matters of small importance. At length they reached the Brantholme gates, and Stephen looked down as George alighted.
"We"ll expect you over shortly; I"ll send for your baggage," he said as he drove off.
George, to his keen disappointment, found only Mrs. Lansing waiting for him in the hall, though she received him very cordially,
"Herbert had to go up to London; he didn"t get your wire in time to put off the journey," she explained. "I"m sorry he can"t be back for a few days."
"It doesn"t matter; he has to attend to his business," George rejoined.
"But where"s Sylvia?"
"She hasn"t come back from Susan"s," said Mrs. Lansing, quickly changing the subject and explaining why Herbert had re-let the Lodge.
After that, she asked George questions until she sent him off to prepare for dinner.
George was perplexed as well as disappointed. Neither Ethel nor Muriel seemed inclined to speak about Sylvia--it looked as if they had some reason for avoiding any reference to her; but he a.s.sured himself that this was imagination, and during dinner he confined his inquiries to other friends. When it was over and Muriel led him into the drawing-room, his uneasiness grew more keen.
"Herbert thought you would like to know as soon as possible how things were going," Muriel said, as she took a big envelope from a drawer and gave it to him.
"He told me this was a rough statement of your business affairs."
"Thanks," said George, thrusting it carelessly into his pocket. "I must study it sometime. But I"ve been looking forward all day to meeting Sylvia. Wouldn"t Susan let her come?"
Mrs. Lansing hesitated, and then, leaning forward, laid her hand on his arm.
"I"ve kept it back a little, George; but you must be told. I"m afraid it will be a shock---Sylvia is to marry Captain Bland in the next few weeks."
George rose and turned rather gray in the face, as he leaned on the back of a chair.
"I suppose," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "there"s no doubt of this?"
"It"s all arranged." Mrs. Lansing made a compa.s.sionate gesture. "I can"t tell you how sorry I am, or how hateful it was to have to give you such news."
"I can understand why Sylvia preferred to leave it to you," he said slowly. "How long has this matter been going on?"
Mrs. Lansing"s eyes sparkled with anger.
"I believe it began soon after you left. I don"t know whether Sylvia expects me to make excuses for her, but I won"t do anything of the kind; there are none that could be made. She has behaved shamefully!"
"One must be just," George said with an effort. "After all, she promised me nothing."
"Perhaps not in so many words. But she knew what you expected, and I have no doubt she led you to believe--"
George raised his hand.
"I think there"s nothing to be said--the thing must be faced somehow.