"Nothing!" cried Robina, looking blank.
"Of course not. He came to bring me a note from Felix. I hope no one knows but those three."
"And Sister Constance."
"Then take care no one does."
"But, O Wilmet, please! You have not put an end to it all?"
"No," said Wilmet. "They will not let me, though I think it would have been wiser. I do not know how it is to be, except that it is utterly impossible for the present."
With this much from the fountain-head, Robina was forced to content herself; and she had tact enough not to join the trio under the tree, but to betake herself to Clement, who had gone off with his books.
"So," said Alda lightly, "you have cheated us of another view of your conquest, Mettie."
"He wanted to catch the 3.45 train," said Wilmet gravely.
"You must have been very unmerciful to despatch him so soon. I thought you must want me to come to your rescue, but those romantic children wouldn"t let me."
"Thank you," said Wilmet.
"My dear! You don"t mean that you are smitten? Well! I can"t flatter you as to his beauty. And yet, after all, situated as you are, it is a catch--that is, if he has anything but his pay; but of course he hasn"t."
"Yes," said Wilmet abstractedly, "his father told me he had--what did he call it?--"a fair independent competence of his own." Oh! they are so kind!"
"Then, O Wilmet, is it really so?" asked Geraldine, with eager eyes, clasped hands, and quivering frame, infinitely fuller of visible emotion than either of the handsome twins.
"I--don"t know."
"My dear Wilmet," cried Alda, excited, "you can"t surely have anything better in view!"
"No," said Wilmet, even now keeping herself blind to the offensiveness of Alda"s suggestion; "but as it is utterly impossible for me to think of--leaving home, I did think it would have been wiser to put a stop to it while there wa--is time," and the tears began to gather again.
"And have you?
"They won"t let me."
"Who?"
"_He_--and his father, and Felix," said Wilmet, speaking steadily, but the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Felix! Oh, what does he say?"
"You may see;" and she held out a letter, which Alda and Cherry read together, while she rested her elbow on her knee, her brow on her hand, and let fall the tears, which with her were always soft, free, and healthy outlets of emotion, not disabling, but rather relieving.
Mrs. Pettigrew"s Lodgings, North Beach, East Ewmouth, 20th July, 10 P.M.
MY DEAREST WILMET--What I have heard to-day is a great satisfaction.
I had hardly hoped that you could have been brought within the reach of any one so worthy of you. My only fear is that you are too scrupulous and self-sacrificing to contemplate fairly, and without prejudice, what is best for us all. You will imagine yourself blinded by inclination, and not attend to common sense. Harewood tells me he trusts you have no objection on personal grounds. (I hope this does not sound as if he were presuming; if so, it is my fault. Remember, I am more used to writing "summaries for the week" than letters on delicate subjects.) But at any rate, my Mettie, I see there is much worth and weight in his affection, and that you could not manage to snub him as entirely as you wanted to do. (Didn"t you?) Now, it seems to me, that if you two are really drawn to one another, both being such as you are, it is the call of a Voice that you have no right to reject or stifle. I do not mean by this that anything immediate need take place; but granting your preference, I think it would be wrong not to avow it, or to refuse, because you scruple to keep him waiting while you may be necessary at home. If you imagine that by such rejection you would be doing better for the children and me, I beg leave to tell you it is a generous blunder. Remember that, as things have turned out, I am quite as much the only dependence for the others as I was seven years ago. I felt this painfully in the spring, when I was doubtful what turn my health would take; and the comfort of knowing you would all have such a man to look to would be unspeakable--indeed, he has already lightened me of much care and anxiety. Do not take this as pressing you. Between this and the end of his leave, there will be time for consideration. Nothing need be done in haste, least of all the crushing your liking under the delusion of serving us. So do not forbid him the house; and unless your objection be on any other score, do not make up your mind till you have seen me. I should of course have been with you instead of writing, if it were not for Lance. Till I saw the dear little fellow, I had no notion how very ill he has been. The five hours" journey had quite knocked him up, and he was fit for nothing but his bed when he came; but he revived in the evening. I only hope I shall take as good care of him as the first-rate nurses he describes so enthusiastically. That month must have been worth years of common acquaintance. I wish I knew what more to say to show you how glad I am of this day"s work, and to persuade you to see matters as I do.-- Ever your loving brother, F. C. UNDERWOOD.
P.S.--Lance is quite himself this morning, and was up to watch us bathing before six o"clock.
"Oh! what did Captain Harewood say of Felix?" was Cherry"s cry, almost with shame and pain at not having asked before.
"You know, he had never seen him," said Wilmet; "but he said he did not seem to him in the least unwell--and he watched carefully, as I had begged him. He said he struck him as naturally delicate-looking; but that those blue veins in his temples do not show, and he has no cough at all, nor any difficulty in swimming, or walking up a steep cliff. He made me laugh, for he said he hardly believed his eyes when Lance tumbled himself out of the train on something so little bigger or older than himself. He says the way we all talk of "my eldest brother" made him expect something taller than Clement, and more imposing than the senior verger; but he understood it all when he saw him and Lance together. They have two very nice rooms; and Felix has put Lance into the bedroom, which is luckily cool, and sleeps on a sofa bed in the parlour; and the landlady will do anything for them."
"But how is it to be?" broke in Alda crossly. "You and Felix seem to be encouraging him to come dangling here, when we all agreed that Ferdinand must keep away in Felix"s absence, though matters are in such a different state."
"So I told him, dear Alda," gently said Wilmet; "but he declared he would bring his sisters, or poor Mrs. Harewood herself, if nothing else would satisfy me: and what could I do, after all their kindness?"
"Umph!" muttered Alda; "they are a queer set."
"Now, Alda," said Wilmet earnestly, "you must not talk without knowing. Till I went there, I never understood how much goodness and principle there could be without my stiffness and particularity. I know I have often been very unnecessarily disagreeable and disapproving, and I hope I am shaken out of it in time."
"Dear Mettie, no one is like you," cried Cherry, with a little effusion, stretching out her hand, and laying it on her sister"s shoulder. "Oh, if we had not all been so vile while you were away!"
"It would not have made any difference, my dear! It would be impossible to leave Felix without help. And think of Theodore!"
Alda muttered something, that no one would hear, about asylums; and the tell-tale tears coming again, Wilmet sprang up, and bending down to kiss Cherry, declared in her most authoritative voice that nothing should be said to the younger children, nor to any one out of the house; then picked up the tea-cups, and carried them in.
Excitements were, however, not yet over for the day. A telegram was put into Alda"s hands, containing the words--
"A. T. is an unmitigated brute. I sail for N. Y. to-night. All will be right when I come back."
The mysterious hint restored Alda at once to all the privileges of the reigning heroine!
CHAPTER XX
VALE LESTON
"The way to make thy son rich is to fill His mind with rest before his trunk with riches; For wealth without contentment climbs a hill, To feel those tempests that fly over ditches, But if thy son can make ten pounds his measure, Then all thou addest may be called his treasure."
GEORGE HERBERT.
"I say, Felix, you"ve not told me about Vale Leston."
The two brothers were established under the lee of an old boat, beneath the deep shadow of the red earth cliffs, festooned with ivy, wild clematis, everlasting pea, thrift, and samphire. Not far off, niched beneath the same cliff, were two or three cottage lodging- houses, two-storied, with rough grey slate roofs, glaring white walls, and green shutters to the windows that looked out over the shingly beach to the lazily rippling summer sea.
Ewmouth was a lazy place. Felix had felt half asleep through the earlier days of his stay, and Lance seemed to be lulled into a continual doze whenever he was unoccupied, and that was almost always. It had grieved his elder brother to see this naturally vivacious being so inert and content with inaction, only strolling about a little in early morning and late evening, and languid and weary, if not actually suffering, during the heat and glare of the day. He was now, with his air-pillow and a railway rug, lying on the beach beside Felix, who with his safety inkstand planted in the sand, was at work condensing the parliamentary debates for the Pursuivant, and was glad to perceive that he was so far alive as to be leaning on his elbow, slowly shovelling the sand or smaller pebbles with the frail tenement of a late crab, and it was another good sign to hear his voice in a voluntary inquiry about Vale Leston.