Heriot's Choice Part 86

'That he called you by your name. I heard his voice; it was quite enough; it told me everything, and then I closed the door. Oh, Mildred!

to think he has come to an end of his blindness and that he loves you at last.'

'Yes; does it not seem wonderful?' returned Mildred, simply. Her fair face was still a little flushed, her eyes were soft and radiant; in her happiness she looked almost lovely. Ethel knelt down beside her in a little effusion of girlish wors.h.i.+p and sympathy.

'Did he tell you how beautiful you are, Mildred? No, you shall let me talk what nonsense I like to-night. I do not know when I have felt so happy. Does Richard know?'

'No one knows.'

'Am I the first to wish you joy then, Mildred? I never was so glad about anything before. I could sing aloud in my gladness all the way from here to Kirkleatham.'

'Dear Ethel, this is so like you.'

'To think of the misery of mind you have both caused me, and now that it has come all right at last. Is he very penitent, Mildred?'

'He is very happy,' she replied, smiling over the girl's enthusiasm.

'How sweetly calm you look. I should not feel so in your place. I should be pining for my lost liberty, I verily believe. How long have you understood each other? Ever since Roy and Polly have come to their senses?'

'No, indeed; only this afternoon.'

'Only this afternoon?' incredulously.

'Yes; but it seems ages ago already. Ethel, you must not mind if I cannot talk much about this; it is all so new, you see.'

'Ah, I understand.'

'I knew how pleased you would be, you always appreciated him so; at one time I could have sooner believed you the object of his choice; till you a.s.sured me otherwise,' smoothing the wavy ripples of hair over Ethel's white forehead.

'Women do not often marry their heroes; Dr. Heriot was my hero,' laughed the girl. 'I chose you for him the first day I saw you, when you came to meet me, looking so graceful in your deep mourning; your face and mild eyes haunted me, Mildred. I believe I fell in love with you then.'

'Hush, here comes Richard,' interrupted Mildred softly, and Ethel instantly became grave and rose to her feet.

But for once he hardly seemed to see her.

'Aunt Milly, my dear Aunt Milly,' he exclaimed, with unusual warmth, 'do you know what a little bird has told me?' he whispered, stooping his handsome head to kiss her.

'Oh, Cardie! do you know already? Have you met him?'

'Yes, and he will be here presently. Aunt Milly, I don't know what we are to do without you, but all the same Dr. John shall have you. He is the only man who is worthy of Aunt Milly.'

'There, that will do, you have not spoken to Ethel yet.'

Oh, how Mildred longed to be alone with her thoughts, and yet the sound of her lover's praises were very sweet to her; he was Richard's hero as well as Ethel's, she knew, but with Richard's entrance Ethel seemed to think she must be going.

'It is so late now, but I will come again to-morrow;' and then as Mildred bade her good-night she said another word or two of her exceeding gladness.

She would fain have declined Richard's escort, but he offered her no excuse. She found him waiting for her at the gate, and knew him too well to hope for her own way in this. She could only be on her guard and avoid any dangerous subject.

'You will all miss her dreadfully,' she said, as they crossed the market-place in full view of Dr. Heriot's house. 'I don't think any of you can estimate the blank her absence will leave at the vicarage.'

'I can for one,' he replied, gravely. 'Do you think I can easily forget what she has done for us since our mother died? But we shall not lose her--not entirely, I mean.'

'No, indeed.'

'Humanly speaking I think their chances of happiness are greater than that of any one. I know that they are so admirably suited to each other.

Aunt Milly will give him just the rest he needs.'

'I should not be surprised if he will forget all his bitter past then.

But, Richard, I want to speak to you; you have not seen my father lately?'

'Not for months,' he replied, startled at the change in her tone; all at once it took a thin, hara.s.sed note.

'He has decided to stand for the Kendal election, though more than one of his best friends have prophesied a certain defeat. Richard, I cannot help telling you that I dread the result.'

'You must try not to be uneasy,' he returned, with that unconscious softening in his voice that made it almost caressing. 'You must know by this time how useless it is to try to shake his purpose.'

'Yes, I know that,' she returned, dejectedly; 'but all the same I feel as though he were contemplating suicide. He is throwing away time and money on a mere chimera, for they say the Radical member will be returned to a certainty. If he should be defeated'--pausing in some emotion.

'Oh, he must take his chance of that.'

'You do not know; it will break him down entirely. He has set his heart on this thing, and it will go badly with both of us if he be disappointed. Last night it was dreadful to hear him talk. More than once he said that failure would be social death to him. It breaks my heart to see him looking so ill and yet refusing any sympathy that one can offer him.'

'Yes, I understand; if I could only help you,' he returned, in a suppressed voice.

'No one can do that--it has to be borne,' was the dreary answer; and just then the lodge gates of Kirkleatham came in sight.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

JOHN HERIOT'S WIFE

'Whose sweet voice Should be the sweetest music to his ear, Awaking all the chords of harmony; Whose eye should speak a language to his soul More eloquent than all that Greece or Rome Could boast of in its best and happiest days; Whose smile should be his rich reward for toil; Whose pure transparent cheek pressed to his Would calm the fever of his troubled thoughts, And woo his spirits to those fields Elysian, The Paradise which strong affection guards.'

Bethune.

And so when her youth was pa.s.sed Mildred Lambert found the great happiness of her life, and prepared herself to be a n.o.ble helpmeet to the man to whom unconsciously she had long given her heart.

This time there were no grave looks, no dissentient voice questioning the wisdom of Dr. Heriot's choice; a sense of fitness seemed to satisfy the most fastidious taste; neither youth nor beauty were imperative in such a case. Mildred's gentleness was the theme of every tongue. Her tender, old-fas.h.i.+oned ways were discovered now to be wonderfully attractive; a hundred instances of her goodness and unselfishness reached her lover's ears.

'Every one seems to have fallen in love with you, Mildred,' he said to her one sweet spring evening when he had crossed the market-place for his accustomed evening visit. Mildred was alone as usual; the voices of the young people sounded from the terrace; Olive and Richard were talking together; Polly was leaning against the wall reading a letter from Roy; the evening sun streamed through the window on Mildred's soft brown hair and gray silk, on the great bowls of golden primroses, on the gay tints of the china; a little green world lay beyond the bay window, undulating waves of gra.s.s, a clear sparkle of water, dim blue mists and lines of shadowy hills.

Mildred lifted her quiet eyes; their smiling depths seemed to hold a question and reproof.

'Every one thinks it their duty to praise you to me,' he continued, in the same amused tone; 'they are determined to enlighten me about the goodness of my future wife. They do not believe how well I know that already,' with a strange glistening in his eyes.