Uncle Max Part 30

Oh, I used to be so sorry for you; you little thought at that dreadful time, when you were so lonely and desolate, that a girl whom you had never seen, and perhaps of whom you had never heard, was praying for you with all her heart. That is what I mean by saying that I have known you for a long time.'

By mutual impulse we bent forward and kissed each other,--a quiet lingering kiss that spoke of full understanding and sympathy. I had promised Uncle Max to be good to this girl, to do all I could to help her, but I did not know as I gave that promise how my heart would cleave to her, and that in time I should grow to love her with that rare friends.h.i.+p that is described in Holy Writ as 'pa.s.sing the love of women.'

We were silent for a little while, and then by some sudden impulse I began to speak of Max; I told her that I felt a little anxious about him, that he did not seem quite well or quite happy.

'I have thought so myself,' she returned, very quietly.

'Max is so good that I cannot bear to see him unhappy,--he is so unselfish, so full of thought for other people, so earnest in his work, so conscientious and self-denying.'

'True,' she replied, taking up a little toy screen that lay in her lap and s.h.i.+elding her face from the flame: 'he is all that. If any one deserves to be happy, it is your uncle.'

I was glad to hear her say this, but her voice was a little constrained.

'He seems very far from happy just now,' was my answer: 'he looks worn and thin, as though he were overworking himself. I asked him the other night what ailed him. Are you cold, Miss Hamilton? I thought you s.h.i.+vered just now.'

'No, no,' she returned, a little impatiently: 'you were speaking of your uncle.'

'Yes. I could not get him to tell me what was the matter; he began to joke: you know his way; men are so tiresome sometimes.'

'It is not always easy to understand them,' she said, turning away her face: 'perhaps they do not wish to be understood. It must be a great comfort to Mr. Cunliffe to have you so near him. I have thought lately that he has seemed a little lonely.'

'But he comes here very often,' I said, rather quickly; 'he need not be dull, with so many friends.'

To my surprise, Miss Hamilton's fair face flushed almost painfully.

'He does not come so often as he used; perhaps he finds us a little too quiet. I am sorry for Giles's sake--oh yes, I do not mean that,' as I looked at her rather reproachfully. 'Of course we all like Mr. Cunliffe.'

I was about to reply to this, when Miss Hamilton suddenly grew a little restless, and the next moment the door-bell sounded.

I rose at once. 'They have come back from church. I will bid you good-bye now.' And, as I expected, she made no effort to keep me.

'You will come again,' she said, kissing me affectionately. 'I have so enjoyed our little talk; you have done me good, indeed you have, Ursula,'

watching me from the threshold. I knew I could not escape my fate, so I walked downstairs as coolly as I could, and encountered them all in the hall. Miss Darrell gave a little shriek when she saw me.

'Dear me, Miss Garston, how you startled me! Who would have thought of finding you here on Sunday evening, when all good people are at church!'

but here Mr. Hamilton put her aside with little ceremony: he really seemed as though he were glad to see me.

'You came to sit with Gladys: it was very kind and thoughtful of you.

Poor girl, she seemed rather dull, but now you have cheered her up.'

'Perhaps Miss Garston will extend her cheering influence, Giles,'

observed Miss Darrell in her most staccato manner, 'and remain to supper.

Leah will see her home.'

'I am going to perform that office myself, Etta. Will you stay?' looking at me in a friendly manner.

'Not to-night,' I returned hurriedly; 'and, indeed, I can very well walk alone.' But Mr. Hamilton settled that question by putting on his greatcoat.

'Oh, of course Giles will walk with you: how could he do less?' replied Miss Darrell, with a scarcely perceptible sneer. 'You have timed your visit so well that he will be just back to supper. So you have been sitting with dear Gladys? I wonder how you knew she had a cold: private information, I suppose. I should hardly have thought Gladys was well enough to see visitors, she was so feverish when I left her; but that stupid Chatty makes such mistakes.'

'Miss Hamilton was not at all feverish, I a.s.sure you. My visit has done her no harm.' And I turned to Lady Betty, who stood on tiptoe to kiss me and breathed a 'thank you' into my ear; but Miss Darrell could not forbear from a parting fling as she bade me good-night.

'We shall wait supper for you, Giles,' she said rather pointedly; but Mr.

Hamilton took no notice; he only bade me be careful, as it was rather slippery by the gate, and then he began telling me about the sermon, and, strangely enough, he endorsed my opinion of Max.

'I tell him he must have a change after Christmas; he looks knocked up, and a trifle thin. It will not hurt Tudor to work a little harder; you may tell Cunliffe I say so. Halloo! I think you had better take my arm, Miss Garston; it is confoundedly dark and slippery.' But I declined this, as I was tolerably sure-footed.

Mr. Hamilton seemed in excellent spirits, and talked well and with great animation, as though he were bent on amusing me; he was a clever man, and had a store of useful information which he did not always care to produce. I never heard him talk better than on this occasion: there were flashes of wit and brilliancy that surprised me: I was almost sorry when I reached the cottage.

'Good-night, Miss Garston, and thank you again for your deed of charity,'

he said quite heartily, and as though he meant it. Really, I never liked Mr. Hamilton so much before; but then he had never shown himself so genial. I saw Lady Betty the next morning, and asked her after Miss Hamilton, but I almost regretted my question when the naughty little thing treated me to one of her usual confidences: there was no inducing her to hold her tongue when she was in the humour for chatting.

'Oh, it was such fun!' she said, her eyes dancing with mischief. 'Etta was so cross when you were gone; she declared it was a conspiracy between us three, and that you only wanted Giles to walk home with you. No, I did not mean to repeat that, so please don't look so angry. Etta did not really think so, but she will say these things about people. I tell Gladys Etta wants Giles herself. She scolded Chatty for being so stupid, and said if Leah had been at home she would have shown more sense; and then she went up to Gladys's room in a nice temper, but Gladys would not listen, said she was tired, and ordered Etta out of the room. When Gladys is like that Etta can do nothing with her, so she sulked until Giles came home, and then began teasing him about his gallantry, and wondering how he enjoyed his walk, and you know her way.'

'Lady Betty, I am busy; besides which, I do not wish to hear any more of your cousin's improving conversation.'

'Oh, there is nothing more to tell,' she returned triumphantly. 'Giles silenced her so completely that she did not dare to open her lips again.

Oh, she is properly frightened of Giles when he is in one of his moods.

He told her that he disliked observations of this sort, that in his opinion they were both undignified and vulgar, especially when they related to a person whom he so much respected as Miss Garston. "And allow me to remark," he continued, looking at poor little me rather fiercely, as though I were in fault too, "that I shall consider it an honour if Miss Garston bestows her friends.h.i.+p on any member of my household. I am very glad she seems to like Gladys, and I only hope she will do the poor girl good and come every day if she likes, and that is all I mean to say on the subject." But I think he said quite enough; don't you, Miss Garston?' finished naughty Lady Betty, looking up at me with such innocent eyes that I could not have scolded her any more than I could have scolded a kitten.

But if only Lady Betty could learn to hold her tongue--!

CHAPTER XX

ERIC

That afternoon I had rather an adventure. I was just walking up the hill on my way to the post-office, when a handsome carriage came round the corner by the church rather sharply, and the same moment a little dog crossing the road in the dusk seemed to be under the horses' feet.

That was my first impression. My next was that the coachman was trying to pull up his horses. There was a sudden howl, the horses kicked and plunged, some one in the carriage shrieked, and then the little dog was in my arms, and even in the dim light I could feel one poor little leg was broken.

The horses were quieted with difficulty, and the footman got down and went to the carriage window.

'It is poor little Flossie, ma'am,' he said, touching his hat: 'she must have got out into the road and recognised the carriage, for she was under the horses' feet. This lady got her out somehow.' And indeed I had no idea how I had managed it. One of the horses had reared, and his front hoof almost touched me as I s.n.a.t.c.hed up Flossie. I suppose it was a risky thing to do, for I never liked the remembrance afterwards, and I do not believe I could have done it again.

'Oh dear! oh dear!' observed a pleasant voice, 'do let me thank the lady.

Stand aside, Williams.' And a pretty old lady with white hair looked out at me.

'I am afraid the poor dog's leg is broken,' I observed, as the little animal lay in my arms uttering short barks of pain. 'Happily your man pulled up in time, or it must have been killed.'

'Oh dear! oh dear! what will the colonel say to such carelessness?'

exclaimed the old lady. 'He's so fond of Flossie, and makes such a fuss with her. And Mr. Hamilton has gone to Brighton, or I would have sent Flossie in for him to attend to her.'

'Will you let me see what I can do, Mrs. Maberley?' I said, for I had recognised the pretty old lady at once. 'I am the village nurse, Miss Garston, and I think I can bind up poor Flossie's leg.'

'Miss Garston!' in quite a different voice; it seemed to have grown rather formal. 'Oh, I am so much obliged to you, but I am ashamed to give you the trouble; only for poor Flossie's sake,' hesitating, 'will you come into the carriage and let me drive you to Maplehurst?' And to this I readily consented. I could never bear to see an animal in pain, and the little creature, a beautiful brown-and-white spaniel, was already licking my hand confidingly.