A BLACK DIAMOND.
Early the next morning Rowton returned home. Nance was standing in the
garden when she suddenly saw her husband cross the lawn; he had walked
over from Pitstow. Nancy, whose face was very pale, and under whose eyes
were large black shadows, looked, when she suddenly beheld his face, as
if a ray of the spring had got into her heart. She uttered an almost
inarticulate cry of joy, and sprang into his arms.
“At last,” she panted, “at last. Oh! how cruelly I have missed you.”
“And I you, sweetheart,” he answered. “Let us forget the past now we are
together again.”
“Yes, at last,” she panted. She laid her head on his breast. Her
happiness was so intense that her breath came fast and hurriedly.
“Look me in the face, little woman,” said Rowton. “Why darling, you are
changed; how thin you have got, and your eyes so big—too big. What is it,
Nancy?”
“I have been starving,” said Nancy.
“Ah, I might have guessed,” he said, clasping her again to him. “Well,
I have returned. I, too, have starved and suffered; but this is plenty
after famine. Kiss me, Nance, kiss me many times.”
“You are never going away again?” she asked after a pause. “I cannot live
if you do it again, Adrian.”
“Let us think of nothing gloomy to-day. I am pretty safe to remain for a
time.”
The new footman, whose name was Jacob, was seen at that moment crossing
the lawn bearing a letter on a salver.
“From Lady Georgina Strong, and the messenger is waiting,” he said to
Nance.
Nance took the letter impatiently, opened it, glanced through its
contents, and spoke:
“Lady Georgina wants to dine here to-night—shall we have her?” she asked,
as she glanced up at her husband.
“Yes,” he replied, “we must not make ourselves hermits. Tell the
messenger to wait,” said Rowton, speaking to the servant, whose eyes,
after glancing at him, were fixed on the ground. “Say Mrs. Rowton will
send a note in a moment.”
Jacob turned obediently and went back to the house.
“A new footman?” said Rowton. “Have you engaged another servant, or has
one of the other domestics left us?”
“Yes, George has gone,” said Nance. She had forgotten all about Jacob,
to whose presence she had become quite accustomed, but at her husband’s
words a great flush of colour rose to her cheeks.
“George went for a silly reason,” she said; “he was quite nervous about
the plate. This man has come in his stead—he seems a good servant.”
“Doubtless, dearest,” said Rowton. “Now let us go into the house. I must
send to the station for my luggage, and you had better scribble a line to
Lady Georgina. Tell her the prodigal has returned, and that to-night we
kill the fatted calf.”
Nance laughed a laugh of pure pleasure. The note was despatched, and
a messenger sent for Rowton’s luggage; after which the pair had lunch
together and then went out into the grounds.
The day was a spring one, warm and balmy; crocuses and snowdrops bloomed
gaily in the garden; the trees were putting out their first spring buds.
“Our good time is about to begin,” said Rowton, his arm round his wife’s
waist as he spoke. “There is just a month from now to Easter. I presume
all the neighbours have called on you, Nance?”
“I suppose so. There are shoals and shoals of cards,” she answered.
“We will look through them together—I know everybody. Have you returned
the calls?”
“I think so. Lady Georgina was my guide into polite society—she went with
me everywhere. We left your cards with mine.”
“Right. I knew you would make a splendid woman of the world. Have
invitations come to us yet?”
“Yes, half a dozen dinners and one or two rather big evening affairs. Oh,
and a ball given by the officers at Pitstow. It is to take place in the
town hall. I have not replied yet—the ball is for next Tuesday.”
“We will go,” said Rowton; “we will dance our time away. I shall dance
with my wife, no matter what the county say.”
He hummed a bar of his favourite song, “Begone, dull care.”
“You don’t look too well, Adrian,” said the young wife, glancing up
tenderly into his face; “you don’t suppose I want balls or parties. You
are with me again and my heart is full.”
“Faith, Nance, gaiety is no delight to me,” he replied; “but ‘noblesse
oblige,’ dearest—we must live up to our position. The Squire of Rowton
Heights is the biggest man in the place—he must entertain. Dame Rowton
must entertain too. Ah! pretty one, how superb you will look in that old
dress—and I have brought home a trinket for you.”
“A trinket!” said Nance; “but I have so many.”
“None like this,” he answered. “What think you of a black diamond?”
“Black,” she said.
“Aye, such a beauty—fit for the brow of a queen. I am not going to show
it you yet. You shall wear it at our own ball. To-night we will talk over
that matter with Lady Georgina. She is worth her weight in gold when we
take her really into our confidence.”
“Yes, she has the kindest of hearts,” said Nance; “but do you really like
all this excitement, Adrian? Does it really give you pleasure?”
“Pleasure,” he answered, his brow darkening; “your kisses alone in all
the wide world give me pleasure.”
“Take them then,” she answered.