"Oh, Uncle Bernard, how cruel! How can you say anything so horrid and unjust! It isn"t true, and you know it isn"t true, and I don"t deserve it! I only asked for what you yourself suggested."
"I never suggested that you should interfere with my property, and criticise what I had chosen to do or left undone. As for not deserving reproach, you must have made very sure of stepping into my shoes since you wish to wear them while I am still here. No doubt I appear to you a mere c.u.mberer of the ground; but it is my ground, I would have you remember. You cannot take liberties with it yet awhile."
"I don"t want it! I never want it! I"ll go home to-morrow! You have no right to taunt me like this!" cried Mollie, trembling with such a storm of indignation and wounded feeling as she had rarely known in her bright, easy-going existence.
A rush of ugly words came to her lips, and struggled for utterance, while Mr Farrell sank back in his chair, and lay crouched against the cushions, one thin hand pressed heavily over his heart. The look, the action, brought Mollie to herself with a stab of recollection.
Whatever he had said to wound her pride, she had no right to forget his weakness, his danger, his lonely, piteous age. Anger died a rapid death, and gave place to an even keener sympathy. When Mr Farrell looked up again, it was to find the grey eyes wet with tears, and the lips trembling with emotion.
"Oh, you poor old man--you poor old man! Why will you make it so difficult? Why won"t you let us love you and be a comfort, instead of a trouble? We would, if you would allow us. We want to, but you keep us at arm"s length, and scold and sneer. I am not thinking of myself. I am young and strong, and I have my home and my dear little mother. I shall be happy, whatever happens. It"s _you_ I am sorry for! I hate to see you ill and lonely. You have given a great deal to me; can"t you be generous enough to take something in return? There are only two months left. The time is nearly half over. Can"t we be friends--real friends--until the end?"
She drew nearer as she spoke, and saw no rebuff in the watching face, until at last she sank on her knees before him, and timidly touched his hand.
"Uncle Bernard, speak! Say something to me!"
Still the old man hesitated; but his hand lay quietly in hers, and did not try to escape.
"What can I say?" he asked slowly at last. "I believe you are a good child; I believe you are honest; but my days are past for making friendships. I have felt deeply in my time, but the power of loving died away with everything else which made life worth living. I cannot promise what is impossible."
"But you can at least give me a chance of loving you. I won"t ask any more favours if you will just talk to me a little sometimes, without sneering at me, and let me walk with you about the grounds and be a little bit of a companion. Will you? You might get to like me a little bit in time, and it would not be quite so lonely."
"I can imagine things less impossible. You are a good child; but remember, Mollie, my liking or not liking has nothing to do with my choice of an heir. The condition to which I referred might easily apply to one who appealed to me in no other way. It is only right to warn you."
But the listener took no heed of the warning. Her face was one radiant beam of delight.
"You called me "Mollie"!" she cried. "It was the very first time! That really does sound as if we were going to be friends?"
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
MR. FARRELL MAKES HIS WILL.
It was not in human nature--not in Mollie"s nature, at least--to resist "showing off" a little after that momentous interview, and her sudden familiarity with their host filled her companions with amazed curiosity.
Ruth had naturally heard all that had pa.s.sed, and loyally stifled the dawning of envy, but the young men were at a loss to account for what seemed to them a mysterious change of favourites.
"Miss Mollie is outstripping us all! She has stepped into the position of first favourite this last fortnight," Victor Druce said, as the four young people sat on the terrace steps waiting for tea, a few days after the visit to the vicarage.
He laughed as he spoke, but in a half-hearted manner, and tugged heavily at the ends of his moustache, while he scrutinised Mollie"s face through half-closed lids. She beamed at him gaily in response, scorning mock- modest protestations.
"Oh yes; we understand each other ever so much better! I have been impressing upon him ever since our first meeting that I am really very nice, and at last he is beginning to realise it for himself. He likes me very much. He told me so with his very own lips; but he told me something else, too."
"Yes! May we inquire--"
"Oh, certainly! It is quite as interesting to you as to me. Liking has nothing whatever to do with the mysterious condition; he may quite probably choose the one of us he cares for least, as his heir.
"Curiouser and curiouser," as Alice said; isn"t it?"
"Humph! There may be a chance for me, after all," said Jack lightly.
Victor knitted his brows, and tugged once more at his moustache.
"He said so definitely--you are sure you are not mistaken? Then how can one possibly judge? That upsets all our theories at a blow."
"That"s what I thought myself. I felt sure that it would be Ruth, but now I am all at sea; but, for my own part, I"m glad. It is easier to be good friends when there is nothing mercenary involved."
Mollie smiled her sunny, candid smile, and lay back in her deck-chair, her hands clasped easily behind her head. It was delightful to laze in the sunshine, to feel at peace with all the world. The present was so all-absorbing that she had no time to worry her head about the future; but Ruth sat by her side, with unseeing eyes bent upon her book, while the swift thoughts surged through her brain.
She also had felt inwardly convinced that Uncle Bernard"s choice would fall upon herself, who was so truly a daughter of his race, and it had been a shock to learn that there was nothing to be deduced from his signs of preference; but of late days there was another problem which was becoming of even more vital interest than the heirship of the Court.
Even as she sat there, with averted head, she was acutely conscious of Victor"s presence. She seemed to know, without looking in his direction, the absorbed, contented expression of the dark face. She knew it so well by this time--knew it in an aspect which no one saw but herself; for when they were alone together, it was as if a mask fell away, and revealed the true man. Then he looked at her with open admiration, spoke unreservedly of himself, and drew her out to tell of her own life, and hopes, and ambitions. And there were even more thrilling moments, when the talk ceased, and they sat side by side, silent, yet absorbed, acutely conscious of each other"s presence; delightfully, inexplicably confused.
At such moments Ruth confessed to herself that this man, whose very existence she had been unaware of a few weeks before, was fast becoming to her the most important person in the world, and it seemed as certain that he reciprocated her feelings. At such moments, yes! but certainty died away into uneasy doubt, as upon the approach of a third person-- even the insignificant Mrs Wolff herself--Victor fell back into his carefully conventional manner.
It was not that she expected or desired any demonstration in public.
Ruth was by nature far too reserved to welcome such an exhibition; but the two att.i.tudes were so widely divided, Victor"s care in keeping them apart so sedulous, that she could not but be perturbed. Ruth"s heart had never before been touched; but love needs no apprenticeship, and she felt by instinct that such self-control was unnatural. Surely, surely, if he really "cared," there would be moments when his eyes would involuntarily meet hers, when his voice would soften in tone.
Then there was Lady Margot Blount! What was the real history of that acquaintanceship? Why did Victor affect to avoid her, while really meeting her in secret?
While Ruth sat dreaming, tea was brought out, and Mr Farrell came limping down the terrace to join the party. It was not often that he favoured them with his presence at the afternoon meal, but the day was so fine and sunny that it was really warmer out of doors than in the house, and as he sat he spread out his wrinkled hands, evidently enjoying the newly-found heat.
Ruth waited upon him with a pretty deference, while Mollie chattered on in her usual unabashed fashion. The old man appeared to pay no attention, but he evidently listened more closely than he cared to admit, for a casual mention of Margot Blount"s name evoked a quick glance and question--
"You all seem to speak of Lady Margot in a very familiar fashion; I have not the pleasure of her acquaintance, but from all I have heard I should not imagine she was inclined to make friendships lightly. You have met her--how often? Once or twice?"
He looked at Mollie as he spoke, but Mollie deliberately avoided his eyes, turning towards Victor in a marked manner, which left him no choice but to reply. It was a mischievous impulse to avenge herself and Ruth for his desertion of a few days before, and to discover the truth about that secret meeting of which Margot herself had spoken. Her face seemed solemnity itself to the casual observer, but as he looked at her Jack choked suddenly over his tea, and hitched his chair in an opposite direction. He would have laughed outright if he had looked one moment longer. As for Victor, his dark eyes shot out a spark of annoyance, just one; then he answered with smiling unconcern--
"Lady Margot and I are not quite strangers, sir; I met her in town a good deal last year. We have some friends in common. It was only renewing an acquaintance when we met again the other day."
"Indeed--indeed!" Mr Farrell looked unusually interested and alert.
"I am glad to hear that. The Blounts are some of the most important people in the neighbourhood. In the old days there was a strong friendship between the two families, which I should be pleased to see renewed. You were introduced to the old people when you called at the Moat, I presume?"
Here was a direct question which could not be avoided. Jack and Mollie turned towards Victor with glances of elaborately veiled curiosity.
Ruth clattered the tea-cups together, carefully averting her eyes.
Anxious as she was to hear the reply, she hated the knowledge that Victor was being placed in an awkward position,--hated the consciousness that the others were enjoying the embarra.s.sment.
The pause lasted but a moment; then Victor spoke in his most casual tones--
"No; I have not seen them yet. I have run across Lady Margot once or twice in my morning rides, and had the opportunity of a talk with her, so I thought it better to defer a more formal call. Miss Farrell was kind enough to leave my card, but I did not wish to put myself too much _en evidence_!"
Mr Farrell frowned.
"You had better go soon, then--the sooner the better. As you know the niece, there is all the more reason for paying due respect to the uncle and aunt. You will no doubt receive an invitation after this exchange of visits, and it must be returned as soon as possible. I knew the girl"s father in his youth. He was a fine fellow. If she is like him, she must be worth knowing. She cannot be very young,--nearer thirty than twenty, I should say. It is a wonder that she is not married, or engaged. Is she engaged, do you happen to know?"
Again the others waited, leaving Victor to reply, and for the first time a faint flush showed itself on his cheek.
"I believe not. There was no talk of it last autumn. I have heard no rumours--"
"I am surprised at that. It is a poor family, and she will have little or no money; but the name and position ought to count for something.
They would be almost more valuable than money to a young man beginning life."