"I do not know what I shall say to Giles," he said, as we walked up the hill. "It will be very awkward for both of us, Miss Garston. Of course I know that--"
But I begged him not to antic.i.p.ate the awkwardness. "You will be welcomed as we only welcome our dearest and best," I a.s.sured him. "Your brother"s heart has been sore for you all these years: you need not fear one word of reproach from him." But he only sighed, and asked me not to walk so quickly; his courage was failing; I could see the look of nervous fear on his face.
We had arranged that he should accompany me to Gladwyn. Gladys never left her room before twelve, and I thought that I could shut him safely in the dining-room while I prepared her for his arrival. I knew Mr. Hamilton was never at home at this hour, but I had not reckoned on the disorganised state of the house, or the difference my brief absence would make in the usual routine.
I blamed myself for rashness and want of consideration when, on opening the gate, I saw Gladys crossing one of the little lawns around the house, with Max and Mr. Hamilton. At my faint exclamation Eric let go the gate rather too suddenly, and it swung back on its hinges so noisily that they all looked round, and the poor boy stood as though rooted to the spot.
But the next moment there was the gleam of a white gown, and Gladys came running over the gra.s.s towards us with outstretched hands, and in another second the brother and sister were locked in each other"s arms.
"Oh, my darling," we heard her say, as she put up her face and kissed him, and then her fair head seemed to droop lower and lower until it touched Eric"s shoulder. I glanced anxiously at Mr. Hamilton.
"Take her into the house, Eric," he said, in his ordinary voice; but how white his face looked! "It has been too sudden, and she has fainted."
And, without a word, Eric lifted her in his strong arms and carried her of his own accord to the little blue couch in the drawing-room, and then stood aside while his brother administered the usual remedy. Not a look had pa.s.sed between them yet: they were both too much absorbed in Gladys.
She soon opened her eyes, and pushed away the vinaigrette I was holding to her.
"It is nothing, Ursula. I am well, quite well. Where is my dear boy? Do not keep him from me." And then Eric knelt down beside her, and put his arm round her with a sort of sob.
"I ought not to have startled you so, Gladys. I have made you look so pale." But she laughed again, and pushed back his hair from his forehead, and feasted her eyes on his face as though they could never be satisfied.
"Eric, darling, it seems like a dream; and it was Ursula, dear good Ursula, who has given you back to us. We must thank her presently; but not now. Oh, I must look at you first. He looks older, does he not, Giles?--older and more manly. And what broad shoulders, and such a moustache!" but Eric silenced her with a kiss.
"That will do, Gladys dear," he whispered, springing to his feet; and then, with downcast eyes and a flush on his face, he held out his hand to his brother. It was taken and held silently, and then Mr. Hamilton"s disengaged hand was laid on his shoulder caressingly.
"Welcome home, my dear boy," he said; but his voice was not quite so clear as usual.
"I am very sorry, Giles," he faltered; but Mr. Hamilton would not let him speak.
"There is nothing to be sorry for, now," he said significantly. "Have you shaken hands with Mr. Cunliffe, Eric? Gladys, can you spare your boy for a few moments while I carry him off?" And, as Gladys smiled a.s.sent, Mr.
Hamilton signed to Eric to follow him.
Max sat down beside Gladys when they had left the room, and Gladys made a s.p.a.ce for me on the couch.
"You must tell us how it happened," she said, fixing her lovely eyes on me. "Dear Ursula, we owe this fresh happiness to you: how can I thank you for all your goodness to us?" But I would not allow her to talk in this fashion, and I left Max to soothe her when she cried a little, and then I told them both how I had found Eric in the stable-yard with Nap, and how I had tracked him successfully to his lodgings.
"She is a brave, dear child, is she not, Gladys?" observed Max. Then, with a mischievous look in his brown eyes, "You are proud of your presumptive niece, are you not, dear?" And then, in spite of Gladys"s confusion, for she was still a little shy with him, I burst out laughing, and she was obliged to join me, for it had never entered into our heads that Gladys would be my aunt. The laugh brought back her colour and did her good; but she would not look at Max for a long time after that, though he was on his best behaviour and said all sorts of nice things to us both.
It was a long time before Mr. Hamilton brought Eric back to us. They both looked very happy, but Eric"s eyes had a strangely softened look in them. The gong sounded for luncheon just then, and Mr. Hamilton asked me, in rather a surprised tone, why I had not taken off my hat and jacket, so I ran off to my room in a great hurry. As he opened the door for me, he said, in rather an odd tone, "Do you know you have not wished me good-morning, Miss Garston?" I muttered some sort of an answer, but he merely smiled, and told me not to keep them waiting. Gladys came in to luncheon, and took her usual place; but neither she nor Eric made much pretence of eating, though Mr. Hamilton scolded them both for their want of appet.i.te. n.o.body talked much, and there was no connected conversation: I think we were all too much engrossed in watching Gladys. Max was in the background for once, but he did not seem to think of himself at all: the sight of Gladys"s sweet face, radiant with joy, was sufficient pleasure for him; but now and then she turned to him in a touching manner, as though to show she had not forgotten him, and then he was never slow to respond.
When luncheon was over, Mr. Hamilton begged me to take Gladys to the turret-room and persuade her to lie down.
"I am going to send Cunliffe away until dinner-time," he said, with a sort of good-natured peremptoriness: "under the circ.u.mstances he is decidedly _de trop_. Yes, my dear, yes," as Gladys looked pleadingly at him, "Eric shall come and talk to you. I am not so unreasonable as that."
And I think we all understood the feeling that made Gladys put her arms round her brother"s neck, though we none of us heard her whisper a word.
Max consented very cheerfully to efface himself for the remainder of the afternoon, and Gladys accompanied me upstairs. I waited until Eric joined us, and then I left them together.
"Oh, Gladys, he was so good, and I did not deserve it!" he burst out before I had closed the door. "I never knew Giles could be like that."
But I took care not to hear any more. I hardly knew what to do with myself that afternoon, but I made up my mind at last that I would finish a letter I had begun to Jill. The inkstand was in the turret-room, but I thought I would fetch one out of the drawing-room; but when I reached the head of the staircase I drew back involuntarily, for Mr. Hamilton was standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall with folded arms, as though he were waiting for somebody or something. An unaccountable timidity made me hesitate; in another second I should have gone back into my room, but he looked up, and, as before, our eyes met.
"Come," he said, holding out his hand, and there was a sort of impatience in his manner. "How long are you going to keep me waiting, Ursula?" And I went down demurely and silently, but I took no notice of his outstretched hands.
I was trying to pa.s.s him in a quiet, ordinary fashion, as though there were no unusual meaning in his deep-set eyes; but he stopped me somewhat coolly by taking me in his arms.
"At last, Ursula, at last!" was all he said, and then he kissed me....
I remember I told Giles, when I had recovered myself a little, that he had taken things too much for granted.
He had brought me into the drawing-room, and was sitting beside me on the little couch. To my dazzled eyes the room seemed full of sunshine and the sweet perfume of flowers: to this day the scent of heliotrope brings back the memory of that afternoon when Giles first told me that he loved me.
He seemed rather perplexed at first by my stammering little speech, and then I suppose my meaning dawned on him, for his arm pressed me more closely.
"I think I understand: you mean, do you not, Ursula, that I have not asked you in plain English to be my wife? I thought we understood each other too well for any such word to be necessary. Ever since you told me that fellow Tudor was nothing to you, I felt you belonged to me."
"I do not see that," I returned shyly, for Giles in his new character was rather formidable. He had taken such complete possession of me, and, as I had hinted, had taken everything for granted. "Because Mr. Tudor was simply a friend, it did not follow that I cared for any one else."
"Yes; but you do care for me a good deal, darling, do you not?" in a most persuasive voice. "But, for my own comfort, I want you to tell me if you are quite content to accept such a crabbed old bachelor for your husband."
It was a little difficult to answer, but I made him understand that I looked upon him in a very different light, and I think I managed to content him.
"And you are really happy, dear?"
"Yes, very happy"; but the tears were in my eyes as I answered. He seemed distressed to see them, and wanted me to tell him the reason; but I think he understood me thoroughly when I whispered how glad Charlie would have been. I asked him presently how long he had cared for me, but, to my surprise, he declared that he hardly knew himself: he had been interested in me from the first hour of our meeting, but it was when he heard me sing in Phoebe Locke"s room that the thought came to him that he must try and win me for his wife.
I think it was in answer to this that I said some foolish word about my want of beauty. I was a little sensitive on the subject, but, to my dismay, Giles"s face darkened, and he dropped my hand.
"Never say that to me again, if you love me, Ursula," he said, in such a grieved voice that I could hardly bear to hear it. "Do you think I would have married you if you had been handsome? Do you know what you are talking about, child? Has no one told you about Ella?"
"Oh yes," I returned, terrified at his sternness, for he had never spoken to me in such a tone before. "Yes, indeed, and I know she was very beautiful."
"She was perfectly lovely,"--in the same hard voice. Oh, how he must have suffered, my poor Giles! "And the memory of that false loveliness has made me loathe the idea of beauty ever since. No, I would never have let myself love you if you had been handsome, Ursula."
"I am glad I am not," I returned, in a choked voice, for all this was very painful to me. Something in my tone attracted his notice, for he stooped and looked in my face, and his manner instantly changed.
"Oh, you foolish child," very caressingly, "there are actually tears in your eyes! You are not afraid of me, Ursula? I am always excited when I speak of Ella: she very nearly destroyed my faith in women."
"I cannot bear to think how you suffered," I faltered, but he would not let me finish.
"Never mind; you have been my healer; you have always rested me so. Never call yourself plain again in my hearing. No other face could be half so dear to me." And then, with his old smile, "Do you know, dear, when I saw you in that velvet gown at your cousin"s wedding you looked so handsome that I went home in a bad humour, and then Etta told me about Tudor.
Well, I have you safe now." But I will not transcribe all Giles"s speech; it was so lover-like, it made me understand, once for all, what I was to him, and how little he cared for life unless I shared it with him.
By and by he went on to speak of our mutual work, and here again he more than contented me.
"I do not mean to rob the poor people of their nurse, Ursula," he said presently. "When you come to Gladwyn as its mistress, I hope we shall work together as we do now."
I told him I hoped so too; that I never wished to lay down my work.
"You are quite right, dear," he answered cheerfully. "We will not be selfish in our happiness. True, your work must be in limits. When I come home I shall want to see my wife"s face. No," rather jealously, "I could not spare you of an evening, and in the morning there will be household duties. You must not undertake too much, Ursula."
I told Giles, rather demurely, that there was plenty of time for the consideration of this point. He was inclined to bridge over the present in a man"s usual fashion, but my new position was too overwhelming for me to look beyond the deep abiding consciousness that Giles loved me and looked to me for happiness.