Greatheart Part 60

He came to her and took her very gently by the arm. Dinah's shoulders were shaking. She could not lift her face.

"Why--why shouldn't your dream come true too?" she sobbed. "You--who help everybody--to get what they want!"

"My dear," Scott said, "my dream is over. Don't you grieve on my account!

G.o.d knows I'm not grieving for myself." His voice was low, but very steadfast.

"You wouldn't!" said Dinah.

"No; because it's futile, unnecessary, a waste of time. I've other things to do--plenty of other things." Scott braced himself with the words, as one who manfully lifts a burden. "Cheer up, Dinah! I didn't mean to make you sad."

"But--but--are you sure--quite sure--she didn't care?" faltered Dinah, rubbing her eyes woefully.

"Quite sure," said Scott, with decision.

Dinah threw him a sudden, flas.h.i.+ng glance of indignation. "Then she was a donkey, Scott, a fool--an idiot!" she declared, with trembling vehemence.

"I'd like--oh, how I'd like--to tell her so."

Scott was smiling, his own, whimsical smile. "Yes, wouldn't you?" he said. "And it's awfully nice of you to say so. But do you know, you're quite wrong. She wasn't any of those things. On the other hand, I was all three. But where's the use of talking? It's over, and a good thing too!"

Dinah slipped a quivering hand over his. "We'll always be friends, won't we, Scott?" she said tremulously.

"Always," said Scott.

She squeezed his hand hard, and in response his fingers pressed her arm.

His steady eyes looked straight into hers.

And in the silence, there came to Dinah a queer stirring of uncertainty,--the uncertainty of one who just begins to suspect that he is on the wrong road.

The moment pa.s.sed, and they talked again of lighter things, but the mood of irresponsible light-heartedness had gone. When they finally left the Dower House, Dinah felt that she trod the earth once more.

"I shall come and see you very often when we come back," she said rather wistfully. "I hope Eustace won't want to be away a very long time."

"Aren't you looking forward to your honeymoon?" asked Scott.

"I don't know," said Dinah, and paused. "I really don't know. But,"

brightening, "I'm sure the wedding will be great fun."

"I hope it will," said Scott kindly.

It was not till they were nearing Willowmount that Dinah asked him at length hesitatingly about Isabel.

"Do you mind telling me? Is she worse?"

Scott also hesitated a little before he answered. Then: "In one sense she is much better," he said. "But physically," he paused, "physically she is losing ground."

"Oh, Scott!" Dinah looked at him with swift dismay. "But why--why? Can nothing be done?"

His eyes met hers unwaveringly. "No, nothing," he said, and he spoke with that decision which she had come to know as in some fas.h.i.+on a part of himself. His words carried conviction, and yet by some means they quieted her dismay as well. He went on after a moment with that gentle philosophy of his that seemed to soften all he said. "She is as one nearing the end of a long journey, and she is very tired, poor girl. We can't grudge her her rest--when it comes. Eustace wants to rouse her, but I think the time for that is past. It is kinder--it is wiser--to let her alone."

Dinah drew a little nearer to him. "Do you mean--that you think she won't live very long?" she whispered.

"If you like to put it that way," Scott answered quietly.

"Oh, but what of you?" she said.

She uttered the words almost involuntarily, and the next moment she would have recalled them, for she saw his face change. For a second--only a second--she read suffering in his eyes. But he answered her without hesitation.

"I shall just keep on, Dinah," he said. "It's the only way. But, as I think I've mentioned before, it's no good meeting troubles half-way. The day's work is all that really matters."

They walked on for a s.p.a.ce in silence; then as they drew near the house he changed the subject. But that brief shadow of a coming desolation dwelt in Dinah's memory with a persistence that defied all lesser things.

He was brave enough, cheery enough, in the shouldering of his burden; but her heart ached when she realized how heavy that burden must be.

A message awaited her at the house that she would go to Isabel in her sitting-room, and she went, half-eager, half-diffident. But as soon as she was with her friend her doubts were all gone. For Isabel looked and spoke so much as usual that it seemed impossible to believe that she was indeed nearing the end of the journey.

She wanted to know all that Dinah had been doing, and they sat and discussed the decorations of the Dower House till the luncheon-hour.

When luncheon was over they repaired to a sheltered corner of the terrace, looking down over the garden to the river, while Scott went away to write letters; and here they talked over the serious matter of the trousseau with regard to which neither Dinah nor her mother had made any very definite arrangements.

Perhaps Mrs. Bathurst had foreseen the possibility of Isabel desiring to undertake this responsibility. Perhaps Isabel had already dropped a hint of her intention. In any case it seemed the most natural thing in the world that Isabel should be the one to a.s.sist and advise, and when Dinah demurred a little on the score of cost she found herself gently but quite effectually silenced. Sir Eustace's bride must have a suitable outfit, Isabel told her. The question of ways and means was not one which need trouble her.

So Dinah obediently put the matter from her, and entered into the delightful discussion with keen zest. Isabel's ideas were so entrancing.

She knew exactly what she would need. Her taste also was so simple, and so unerring. Dinah had never before pictured herself as possessing such things as Isabel calmly proclaimed that she must have.

"We must go up to town to-morrow," Isabel said, "and get things started.

It will mean the whole day, I am afraid. Can you bear to be parted from Eustace for so long?"

Dinah laughed merrily at the question. "Of course--of course! What fun it will be! I always knew I should like to be married, but I never dreamt it could be so exciting as this."

Isabel smiled at her with a touch of pity in her eyes. "Marriage isn't only new clothes and wedding presents, Dinah," she said.

"No, no! I know!" Dinah spoke with swift compunction. "It is far more than that. But I've never had such lovely things before. I can't help feeling a little giddy about it. You do understand, don't you? I'm not like that all through--really."

"My darling!" Isabel answered fondly. "Of course I know it. I sometimes think that it would be better for you if you were."

"Isabel, why--why?" Dinah pressed close to her, half-curious, half-frightened.

But Isabel did not answer her. She only kissed the vivid, upturned face with all a mother's tenderness, and turned back in silence, to the fas.h.i.+on-book on her knee.

CHAPTER VII

DOUBTING CASTLE

When Sir Eustace returned, he found his bride-elect awaiting him with a radiant face. She sprang to greet him with an eagerness that outwent all shyness.