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Just then Anthony came in with jugs of hot water and a huge soapstone on which he said the young man was to stand while he dressed himself.
"Sharp weather this, even for Wales!" he began, as he lingered a little and put back the curtains to admit more light.
"Sorry, sir, I cannot make you a fire. Hope the cold did not keep you awake?"
"Never slept better in my life, I did not mind the cold at all," Grey said, and Anthony continued:
"Yes, you like air, _Tisicky_ my old woman says, and she sent me out last night for a pipe and some cubebs which you are to smoke three times a day. Nothing like cubebs for your disorder. Had it long?"
"Thank you, no, sir; you are very kind," Grey said, with a little groan, as he wondered if the confounded things would make him sick, inasmuch as he had never smoked in his life.
Making his toilet with all speed, and finding the soapstone and hot water great comforts to him, he hastened down to the dining-room, where he found Neil, looking rather tired and worn, and out of sorts, as if there was something on his mind.
Neil had not slept well at all, though, after Archie, he had the best bed and the best room in the house, and, his fire burned all night and was replenished by Anthony, early in the morning. He had been restless, and nervous, and had lain awake for hours, watching the flickering firelight on the wall, thinking of Bessie, and wondering if she would not be frozen stiff before morning.
He had known nothing of the exchange of rooms, and when he heard footsteps in the north chamber, which adjoined his, though it did not communicate with it, he supposed it was Bessie, and was surprised that she stepped so heavily, and moved the chairs with such a jerk.
At last, however, all was still; Bessie was asleep, no doubt, and did not feel the cold or hear the wind as he heard it moaning through the old yew trees, and screaming around the house, as if it were some restless spirit trying to get in. Suddenly, however, there was a sound which made Neil start, and listen, and raise himself on his elbow to make sure he was not mistaken.
"No I am not" he whispered to himself. "It is a _snore_," and he gave a groan as he thought: "Bessie snoring! and such snores! who would imagine that she could do anything so vulgar and unlady-like! Heavens and earth, it is enough to raise the rafters! If I did not know Bessie was in there. I'd swear it was a man. How can a girl--and Bessie of all girls--go it like that?" and the fastidious Neil stopped his ears with his fingers to shut out the obnoxious sounds which grew louder as Grey's sleep became more profound.
There was a feeling of keen disappointment in Neil's heart, a sense of something lost, or as if in some way he had been wronged, and then he thought of Blanche, and wondered if she snored, and how he could find out.
"It would be a tearer if she did, she is so much larger and coa.r.s.er every way than Bessie," he thought, as he finally put the pillow over his head so that he could not hear.
At last, however, the sound ceased as Grey, who only snored when he was very tired, half awoke and turned upon his side, nor was it resumed again. But Neil could not sleep for thinking of it, and when at last he did fall into a restless slumber, he awoke suddenly with the impression that Bessie was frozen to death in the next room, and that Grey Jerrold was trying to bring her to life and calling her his darling.
Altogether it was a bad night for Neil, and he was glad when Anthony came in and he knew he might get up. And thus it chanced that he was first in the dining-room, where he sat, gloomily regarding the fire, when Grey came in, followed in a moment by Bessie, whose sweet girlish lips, as she bade merry Christmas to the young men, did not look as if they could ever have emitted the sounds which were still ringing in Neil's ears, and making him shudder a little.
"Oh, Mr. Jerrold," she said to Grey after the morning greetings were over, "didn't you almost freeze last night in that cold north room? I thought of you when I was awake and heard the wind howl so dismally."
"Never slept better in my life, I a.s.sure you; and I was far better pleased with the cold room than I should have been with the warm one,"
Grey replied.
"Wha-at!" Neil exclaimed. "Did _you_ occupy the north room adjoining mine?"
"Yes," was Grey's reply; and crossing the hearth swiftly to where Bessie stood, Neil kissed her twice, as he said.
"I am so glad!"
If Grey occupied the room, then it was Grey who snored, and not Bessie, who again went into the scales with the ten thousand a year, and who looked up surprised, and a little displeased at this salute before a stranger.
Grey had wondered when he ought to present his Christmas gift, and glanced around the room to see if Neil's was visible; but it was not, and he concluded to wait the progress of events.
Breakfast was late that morning, for Dorothy's rheumatic feet and ankles were worse than usual, and locomotion was difficult and painful; but with Bessie's a.s.sistance it was ready at last, and the family were just seating themselves at the table when there was the sound of a vehicle outside, with voices, and a great stamping of feet, as some one entered at the side piazza and came toward the dining-room.
"Mother; it must be mother," Bessie cried, but Neil had recognized a voice he knew, and said, a little curtly:
"It is not your mother; it is Jack Trevellian," and in a moment Jack stood in the room, brus.h.i.+ng the snow from his coat, and wis.h.i.+ng them a merry Christmas as he shook hands with each in turn.
"Hallo, Jerrold, and Mack, you both here? This is a surprise!" he said, as he saw the two young men, and something in his tone made the watchful Neil suspect that it was not altogether a pleasant surprise.
Nor was it. Jack Trevellian had never been able to forget the soft blue eyes which had shone upon him in London, or the sweet month, with its sorry expression, which asked him not to play with the mother when he met her. No matter where he was, those eyes had haunted him, and the low earnest voice had rung in his ears until at last he had made up his mind that he would see her once more, and then he would go from her forever, for it would be madness to ask her to share his small income.
The puny d.i.c.k of Trevellian Castle was dead, and Hal was master there.
Only one life now between Jack and wealth and Bessie; but as once before he called himself a murderer, so he had done again when he heard of d.i.c.k's death, and pulling the wild thought from him he wrote to Hal just as he had written to d.i.c.k, and told him he supposed he would be marrying now and settling down in the old home, and then there came over him so intense a longing for Bessie that he resolved upon the visit, feeling glad for the storm and the cold which would keep him in the house where he could have her all to himself. How then was he surprised to find both Neil and Grey Jerrold, the latter of whom he had met many times and between whom and himself there was a strong liking. But Jack was one who could easily cover up his feelings, and he greeted the young men warmly, and held Bessie's hand in his while he explained rapidly, as if anxious to get it off his mind, that he had gone to the "George" intending to take a room there as he had done before, but had found it quite shut up, and so he added, laughingly:
"I have come here bag and baggage, and if I spend the night, as I should like to, I shall have to ask for a bed, or cot, or crib, or cradle; anything will do."
Bessie could not help glancing at Grey, who detected the troubled look in her eyes as she a.s.sured the new arrival of her readiness to grant the hospitality he craved. In Grey's mind there could be no doubt now as to what Neil would do. "He will offer to share his room with Jack, of course," he thought, and so, perhaps, thought Bessie; but into Neil's mind no such alternative entered; first come first served was his motto, and besides, what business had Jack to come there anyway, uninvited and unannounced? For his part, he thought it rather cheeky, and there was a cloud on his face all through the breakfast, nor was it at all dispelled when, after the meal was over, Jack brought out a lovely seal-skin cap and pair of seal-skin gloves which he had bought as a Christmas gift for Bessie, and a handsomely bound edition of Shakespeare for Archie, who he knew was very fond of the poet.
Now was Grey's time, and the work-box was produced, and Bessie's face was a study in its surprise and delight, for Christmas presents of any value were rare with her, and the cap and the gloves were just what she wanted, and the box was so beautiful that there were tears in her eyes as she thanked the donors for their kindness, and asked Neil if the gifts were not pretty.
"Yes, very," he said, inwardly cursing himself for an idiot that he, too, had not thought to bring anything. "I never do think till it is too late," he said to himself; "but then, I never have any spare money, while Grey is rich and Jack is his own master;" and entrenching himself behind these excuses he tried to seem at his ease, though he was very far from being so.
In the course of the morning Grey managed to see Jack alone for a few moments, and immediately broached the subject of the bed, or cot, or crib which the latter had bespoken.
"I am afraid it will be a crib," he said, "unless you share my room with me;" and then he told of the north chamber which he had insisted upon taking on account of his _phthistic_, which required so much fresh air.
"Phthisic!" Jack repeated. "_You_ have the phthisic, when I know you have climbed the Rigi and Montanvert, and half the mountains in Switzerland! Why, you are the longest-winded fellow I ever knew."
"Still, I have the asthma so terribly that I could never sleep in Miss Bessie's room, knowing she was freezing in that north wing," Grey said, affecting a terrible wheeze.
"Yes, I see," Jack replied, a light beginning to dawn upon him. "I see--and I am _tisicky_, too, and must have fresh air; so, old chap, if you'll take me in, I'm yours."
"But you will have to smoke _cubebs_," Grey rejoined. "You remember Mrs.
Opie's 'White Lies' and the 'Potted Sprats?' My asthma has proved a sprat, and there is a clay pipe at this moment waiting for me in the kitchen, and pretty soon you will see me puffing like a coal-pit. Do you suppose they will make me vomit?"
"No doubt of it; they are awful nasty, but I will be a coal-pit too if necessary," Jack said, ready for any emergency; but this was not required of him, and only Grey paid the penalty of the white lie, and smoked cubebs until everything around him grew black except the stars which danced before his eyes, and he was so dizzy he could scarcely stand.
The day pa.s.sed rapidly, and both Jack and Grey enjoyed it immensely, especially the latter, who conducted himself as if he were perfectly at home and had known Bessie all his life.
After the dinner, which proved a great success, except that it was not served, as Neil would like to have had it, by liveried servants instead of the hobbling Dorothy. Bessie announced her intention of was.h.i.+ng the dishes to save the tired old woman's feet.
"Nonsense, Bessie," Neil said to her, in an aside "You surely will not do that before Jack and Grey; besides, so much dishwater will spoil your hands, which are red enough now."
But Bessie cared more for Dorothy than for her hands, and proceeded with her dishwas.h.i.+ng, while Grey insisted upon helping her.
"I know how to wipe dishes. I've done it many a time for Aunt Hannah,"
he said, while Jack proffered his a.s.sistance so earnestly that the two were soon habited in long kitchen ap.r.o.ns, that of Grey's having a bib, which Bessie herself pinned upon his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to do it, her bright hair almost touching his moustache, and her fingers, as they moved upon his coat, sending strange little thrills through every nerve in his body.
What sport they had, and how awkwardly they handled the silver and the china, Jack a.s.suming the Irish brogue he knew so well, and Grey the Yankee dialect, with the nasal tw.a.n.g, which nearly drove Bessie into hysterics, and made Archie laugh as he had not laughed in years.
Neil was disgusted, and thought the whole a most undignified proceeding, and wondered what his mother and Blanche would say could they see it, and if, after all, he had not made a mistake in coming to Stoneleigh instead of going with them. He changed his mind, however, when, after the dishwas.h.i.+ng was over, and the ap.r.o.ns discarded, and the Irish brogue and Yankee dialect dropped, he was alone a moment with Bessie, who came shyly up to him, and laying her hand, red with dishwater, on his arm, said to him, softly:
"Are you sick, that you seem so sober?"
"No," he replied, taking her hand in his, and drawing her closely to him, with his arm around her, "I am not sick, but I cannot enjoy myself--in just the way--Trevellian and Jerrold do. I think them rather too free and easy for strangers, and quite too familiar with you. Don't let them make a fool of you."