LOVE AND VICTORY
Millicent accompanied Mrs. Keith to Sandymere in a troubled mood; and
dinner was a trying function. She sat next to Foster, and she found it
hard to smile at his jokes; and she noticed that Blake was unusually
quiet. It was his last evening in England.
When they went into the drawing-room Challoner sat talking with her for
a while, and then she was asked to sing. An hour passed before Blake
had an opportunity for exchanging a word with her.
"They'll make you sing again if you stay here," he said softly.
She understood that he wanted her to himself, and she thrilled at
something in his voice.
"You're interested in Eastern brasswork, I think?" he went on.
"I hardly know," said Millicent. "I haven't seen much of it."
She was vexed with herself for her prudish weakness. An opportunity
that might never be repeated was offered her, and she could not muster
the courage to seize it. Blake, however, did not seem daunted.
"You said you were delighted with the things my uncle showed you the
last time you were here, and a friend has just sent him a fresh lot
from Benares." He gave her an appealing look. "It struck me you might
like to see them."
The blood crept up into Millicent's face, but she answered with forced
calm:
"Yes; I really think I should."
"Will you give me the key to the Indian collection?" Blake asked
Challoner.
"Here it is," said the Colonel; and then turned to Mrs. Keith. "That
reminds me, you haven't seen my new treasures yet. Dryhurst has lately
sent me some rather good things; among others, there's a small Buddha,
exquisitely carved. Shall we go and look at them?"
Mrs. Keith felt angry with him for a marplot.
"Wouldn't it be better to wait until I'm here in the daylight? If I
try to examine anything closely with these spectacles, they strain my
eyes."
"I've had a new lamp placed in front of the case," Challoner persisted;
and Mrs. Keith found it hard to forgive him for his obtuseness.
"Very well," she said in a resigned tone; and when Millicent and Blake
had gone out she walked slowly to the door with Challoner.
They were half-way up the staircase, which led rather sharply from the
hall, when she stopped and grasped the banister.
"It's obvious that you have recovered," she said.
"I certainly feel much better; but what prompted your remark?"
"These stairs. You don't seem to feel them, but if you expect me to
run up and down, you'll have to make them shallower and less steep.
I've been up twice since I came. I must confess to a weakness in my
knee."
Challoner gave her a sharp glance.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Mrs. Foster mentioned something about your not
walking much; I should have remembered."
"It's the weather; I find the damp troublesome. If you don't mind, I
think we'll go down."
Challoner gave her his arm, and Millicent, standing in the picture
gallery, noticed their return. She suspected that it was the result of
some maneuver of Mrs. Keith's intended for her advantage, and she tried
to summon her resolution. The man she loved would sail the next day,
believing that his poverty and the stain he had not earned must stand
between them, unless she could force herself to give him a hint to the
contrary. This was the only sensible course, but she timidly shrank
from it.
Blake unlocked a glass case and, taking out two shelves, he carefully
laid them on a table.
"There they are," he said with a rather nervous smile. "I've no doubt
the things are interesting, and if our friends come up they can look at
them. But it wasn't Benares brassware that brought me up here."
"Wasn't it?" Millicent asked demurely.
"Certainly not! One couldn't talk with Foster enlarging upon the only
rational way of rearing pheasants!" He paused a moment. "You know I'm
going away the first thing to-morrow," he added softly.
"Yes; I know. I'm sorry."
"Truly sorry? You mean that?"
He gave her a searching glance and then laid his hand on her shoulder,
holding her a little away from him.
"Dear little girl," he said, "you don't know what a struggle it is
between the knowledge of the duty I owe you and my own selfish
longing--my uncontrollable longing for you. You are very young and
beautiful, and I love you--but I am a broken man."
"Does that matter, when it is through no fault of yours?" She smiled
up at him as she spoke.
For one instant he hesitated; then, all his good resolutions forgotten,
he gathered the girl in his arms.
"Millicent!" he breathed. Then, after a long silence: "We'll laugh at
cold-blooded prudence and take our chances. It's a wide world, and
we'll find a nook; somewhere if we go out and look for it. All my care
will be to smooth the trail for you, dear."
They spent a half-hour in happy talk, and Blake murmured when Millicent
protested that they must go back; and she feared that her lover's
exultant air would betray them as they entered the drawing-room.
"Where's the key?" Challoner asked.
"I'm afraid I forgot it, sir," Blake confessed. "Very sorry, but I'm
not even sure I put the things away."
Challoner rang a bell and gave an order to a servant.
"Did you see the Buddha?" he asked Millicent.
"No," she said. "I don't think so."
"Or the brass plate with the fantastic serpent pattern round the rim?"
"I'm afraid I didn't," Millicent answered in confusion.
Challoner looked hard at Blake, and then his eyes twinkled.
"Well," he laughed, "perhaps it wasn't to be expected."
There was a moment's silence. Millicent looked down with the color in
her face; Blake stood very straight, smiling at the others.
"We are all friends here," he said, "and I'm proud to announce that
Millicent has promised to marry me as soon as I return from Canada."
He bowed to Mrs. Keith and the Colonel. "As you have taken her
guardian's place, madam, and you, sir, are the head of the house, I
should like to think we have your approval."
"How formal, Dick!" Mrs. Keith laughed. "I imagine that my consent is
very much a matter of form, but I give it with the greatest
satisfaction."
Challoner put one arm round Millicent.
"My dear, I am very glad, and I think Dick has shown great wisdom. I
wish you both all happiness."
Mrs. Foster and her husband offered their congratulations, and for the
next hour they discussed Blake's future plans. Then they were
interrupted by the entrance of a servant with a small silver tray.
"Cablegram, sir, for Mr. Blake," he said. "Hopkins was at the
post-office, and they gave it to him."
Blake took the envelope and looked at Miss Challoner for permission to
open it. When he had read it, he started, and gave the cablegram to
Millicent.
"Oh, Dick!" she cried with sparkling eyes. "How splendid!"
Blake explained to the others.
"It's from my partner in Canada, and I'm sure you'll be interested to
bear it." He read the message aloud: "'_Come. Struck it. Tell
Challoner._'"
He folded the paper and replaced it in its envelope. "I don't
understand the last part of it," he said to Challoner. "Why does he
wish you to know?"
The Colonel chuckled.
"I sent Mr. Harding five hundred pounds to buy anything he needed for
his prospecting, and told him to give me an option on a good block of
shares in the new syndicate at par. You're very independent, Dick, but
I can't see why you should object to your relatives putting money into
what looks like a promising thing."
"I've no doubt it was mainly through your help that Harding found the
oil," Blake said gratefully.
Soon afterward the Fosters rose to go, but they waited a few moments in
the hall while Millicent lingered with Blake in the drawing-room.
"Dick," she said, blushing in a way that he thought quite charming,
"you made a rash statement. I didn't really promise to marry you as
soon as you came back."
"Then it was understood," Blake answered firmly. "And I shan't let you
off."
"Well, if it will bring you home any quicker, dear! But how long must
you stay?"
"I can't tell; there may be much to do. If Harding needs me, I must
see him out. But I won't delay a minute more than's needful, you may
be sure! You know we may have to live in Canada?"
"I won't object. Where you are will be home," she said shyly; and once
more he gathered her to him.
Blake sailed the next day, and he found, on reaching the timber belt,
that there was much to be done. After some months of hard work,
Harding left him in charge while he set off for the cities to arrange
about pipes and plant and the raising of capital. It was early winter
when he returned, satisfied with what he had accomplished and confident
that the oil would pay handsomely, and Blake saw that he would be able
to visit England in a few weeks.
He was sitting in their office shack one bitter day when a sled arrived
with supplies, and the teamster brought him a cablegram. His face grew
grave as he read it aloud to Harding:
"'_Bertram killed in action. Challoner._'"
"That sets you free, doesn't it?" Harding asked after expressing his
sympathy.
"I can't tell," Blake answered. "I haven't thought of it in that
light. I was very fond of my cousin."
When Blake reached England, Millicent met him at the station. Mrs.
Keith, she told him, had taken a house near Sandymere. She looked
grave when he asked about his uncle.
"I'm afraid you will see a marked change in him, Dick. He has not been
well since you left, and the news of Bertram's death was a shock."
She was with him when he met Challoner, who looked very frail and
forlorn.
"It's a comfort to see you back, Dick; you are all I have now," he
said, and went on with a break in his voice: "After all, it was a good
end my boy made--a very daring thing! The place was supposed to be
unassailable by such a force as he had, but he stormed it. In spite of
his fondness for painting, he was true to the strain!"
When Blake was alone with Millicent in the dimly lighted drawing-room,
he took her into his arms very gently.
"My secret must still be kept, dear," he said; "I can't speak."
"No," she agreed, "not while your uncle lives. It's hard, when I want
everybody to know what you are!"
He kissed her.
"Perhaps it's natural for you to be prejudiced in my favor--but I like
it."
"One reason for my loving you, Dick," she said softly, with her face
close against his, "is that you are brave enough to take this generous
part!"
THE END