Ralph Elthorne saw it, and his facial muscles twitched, and an angry
look came into his eyes, but he passed it off with a forced smile.
"Now, now," he cried; "none of that, my dears. It's nothing. We've had
many a run together, and I've only had a fall. Don't you two begin any
of that nonsense. I was a bit hurt, but I'm Ralph Elthorne still: daddy
to you, my darlings, in name only yet, but it's going to be real before
long, you know. I'm not ill, only a bit crippled for the present. I'm
not an invalid, my dears, so out with it--what is it?"
There were words in his little speech which made their task more
difficult still, and they glanced at each other again.
"Come, Saxa," he cried--"come, Dana, let's have it. You don't want to
make me angry?"
"No, no," cried Saxa, and she sank upon her knees by him, and laid her
head upon his shoulder.
"Then speak out. There's something serious on the way. Ah, I see!
Isabel! She has not gone--absurd! She was here just now."
"No, no, sir; it is not that."
"Hah!" he ejaculated. "She would not dare. Well, then, what is it?
You, Dana, speak, my child."
Dana was silent, and he turned angrily upon Saxa. "You are the elder
girl. Tell me at once. I know: it is something about one of the boys."
"He must know, Dan; speak out," said Saxa firmly.
"Why do you put it on my shoulders?" cried Dana angrily. "Very well,
then, if I must. Daddy, it isn't my fault, but that's all over now."
"What is, my girl?"
"All that with Alison; and we've come to say good-bye. We are going
back home."
"What?" he cried. "Nonsense! rubbish! Some silly lovers' tiff. What
has he said to you? Bah, my pretty one! Go down and box his ugly ears,
and make him beg your pardon; you can do it, I know."
"And is Saxa to do the same?" she said bitterly. "What! you are not in
trouble, too, with Neil?" Saxa was silent.
Ralph Elthorne made an effort to raise himself, but his head fell back
heavily, and he uttered a low moan at his helplessness and wiped his
face.
"Look here," he said in a low trembling voice; "I know you two girls
love me, and always have, since you were little bits of things, and it
all increased when your poor dying father and mother begged me to act as
your guardian. Come, now; I've done my duty to you both."
"Always, dear," said Saxa tenderly.
"Then now, both of you do your duty by me. You, Saxa, my child, speak.
You came here to stay for a day or two. I wished it so that you and the
boys might see more of each other. I see; you have quarrelled."
"Not yet," said the girl firmly. "There is no need to quarrel; all that
is at an end."
"What?"
"Yes, at an end, guardian," said Dana. "If Alison prefers another woman
to me, he may have her."
"Alison? Another woman? Has he dared to trifle with you? to oppose my
wishes? No; it is a mistake. And you, Saxa, my girl--what is wrong
with you?"
"I say the same as my sister, sir. If Neil Elthorne prefers to marry
your nurse, let him; everything between us is at an end."
Ralph Elthorne's jaw dropped, and he looked helplessly, vacantly, from
one to the other. Then, raising his hands wildly, he seemed to be
fighting for his breath, his convulsed features horrifying the two
girls, who were strong-minded in their way, and accustomed enough to
scenes of human suffering to look on unmoved, as a rule. But the aspect
of their guardian startled them; the callousness produced by their
rough, outdoor education dropped away, and they were gentle women once
again in the presence of the old man's agony.
"I'll ring for help," panted Dana, and in her confusion she ran to the
wrong end of the room to find the bell pull, while Saxa threw herself on
her knees by the couch, and caught one of the fluttering hands.
"Oh, daddy! dear old daddy!" she cried, "what have we done?" Then
excitedly, "Dan, we were selfish fools to speak. Dear, dear old
guardy--we've killed you!"