I was surprised one morning by my weekly letter from Miss Carr
containing the welcome news that she was coming back; in fact, that she
was following the letter, and it expressed a wish that I should meet her
at the terminus and see her home.
It was with no small feeling of pride that I found myself chosen for
this duty, and quite an hour before it was possible for the train to
come in, I was waiting at the station.
Soon after I saw the carriage drive up, and at last, after looking
endless times at the clock, I saw the train come gliding in, and the
next minute I was hurrying along the platform, looking eagerly at each
carriage in turn, when I found myself brushing by John Lister, who
started and scowled at me as I passed.
Just then I caught sight of Miss Carr, looking from one of the
carriages, and handing a bundle of wraps to her maid.
I ran eagerly up, but only to find myself rudely thrust aside by John
Lister, who, in his excitement, studied nothing so that he could reach
her first.
"At last," he whispered passionately. "Let me be the first to welcome
you back."
Flushed and angry, my fists involuntarily clenched, and I felt ready to
strike him as I started forward once again.
I had my recompense, though, directly, for I saw Miss Carr draw down her
veil, and; completely ignoring the extended hands, she beckoned to me,
and, summoning up as much importance as I could, I said sharply:
"Will you have the goodness to stand aside?"
He was so taken aback by the determined refusal of Miss Carr to renew
their acquaintance that he stood back involuntarily, recovering himself
though, directly, and approaching once more; but he was too late: Miss
Carr had taken my arm, and I led her to the carriage, the footman, who
had seen her, taking the wraps and a case or two from the maid, whom he
ushered to a cab, which was then being loaded with luggage, as I sprang
in beside my patroness, and gave the word to the coachman, "Home!"
I was too young not to feel excited by the importance of my position,
and as the horses started and the carriage moved forward, think now that
I must have been more than human if I had not darted a look of triumph
at John Lister, as he stood there just beneath one of the swinging
lamps, his brow furrowed and a furious look of disappointment and malice
upon his face.
I heard Miss Carr draw her breath as if with pain, but the next moment
her hands were in mine.
"My dear Antony," she exclaimed, "I am very glad to get back. Why, my
dear boy, what a difference one year has made in you."
"Has it?" I said, laughing.
"Oh, yes! Why, Antony, you will soon be growing into a man."
"I hope so, Miss Carr; but I don't think you look well."
"No?"
"You look thin and careworn."
"Marseilles is a very hot place, Antony," she said evasively, "and does
not suit English people. Of course, you are my property this evening,
Antony. You have no engagement?"
"No," I said, smiling. "I should have gone to spend the evening with
Mr Hallett if I had been alone."
Her hand gave a slight twitch as I said these words, and her voice
sounded a little hoarse as she continued:
"You must come and dine with me, Antony, and we will have a long, long
chat. It seems like old times to be with you again."
I was delighted to have her back, and chatted on in the most unreserved
way, until we reached Miss Carr's house, where the door flew open as the
carriage stopped.
I jumped down, and was in the act of holding out my right hand and the
carriage-door open with the left, when I started with surprise; for a
swift hansom cab had brought John Lister there before us, and he stood
on the other side, holding out his hand.
"I must speak to you, Miriam!" he exclaimed in a low voice, when, seeing
her shrink back in alarm, and with an unmistakable look of horror in her
face, boy as I was, I felt some sense of manhood flush to my cheek, and,
feeling no fear of him for the moment, I placed my hand upon his chest,
and thrust him with all my might away.
"Stand back, sir!" I cried, "or I call the police."
Ere he could recover from his astonishment, Miss Carr had lightly
touched my hand, stepped out, and hurried in, while I, with my heart
beating fast at my temerity, slowly closed the brougham-door, and stood
facing John Lister.
"You insolent dog?" he cried threateningly; and I thought he was about
to strike me, but at that moment, as I stood before him with my teeth
set, I would hardly have run in to save my life.
"How dare you insult Miss Carr!" I exclaimed.
"Insult! Oh, this is too much!" he muttered. Then, half-raising his
hand, he let it fall once more, turned upon his heel, and strode away.
The coachman seemed disposed to speak, but the field being now my own, I
walked--very pompously, I'm afraid--into the hall, Miss Carr coming out
of the dining-room as soon as the front door was closed, to catch my
hand in hers, and look eagerly in my flushed face.
"You have grown brave too, Antony," she whispered, as she led me
upstairs. "Thank you, thank you; I did not know that I could look for a
protector in you."
I had calmed down by the time Miss Carr had dressed; and then followed
one of those, to me, delightful evenings. We dined together; she
chatted of her life in Southern France, and at last, over our tea in the
drawing-room, as she was sitting back in her lounge-chair, with her face
in the shade, she said, in what was meant to be a perfectly calm voice:
"Well, Antony, you have not said a word to me about your friends."
I did not answer directly, for I felt a strange hesitation in so doing;
and a similar emotion must have been in my companion's breast, for she
sat there for some minutes in silence, till I said:
"Linny Hallett seems to have quite recovered now, and is bright and
happy again, though very much changed."
Miss Carr did not speak.
"Mrs Hallett is precisely the same. I do not think she has altered in
the least since I have known her."
Miss Carr seemed to turn her face more away from me, or else it was the
shadow, and now, instead of speaking of Stephen Hallett, something
seemed to prompt me to turn off, and talk of Revitts and Mary, and of
how admirably the arrangement had answered of their taking the house in
Great Ormond Street.
There seemed to be a slight impatient movement as I prattled on--I can
call it nothing else. It was not from a spirit of mischief, but all the
time I seemed to feel that she must want to know about Stephen Hallett,
and somehow I could not mention his name.
"It is quite droll, Miss Carr," I said. "Mrs Hallett says that it is
such an admirable arrangement, having a police-constable on the
premises, and that she has never before felt so safe since she has been
in London."
"You have not spoken to me yet of your friend--Mr Hallett."
I started, for it did not sound like Miss Carr's voice, and when I
looked up I could not see her face.
"No; not yet," I said. "He is toiling on still as patiently and
enduringly as ever."
"And the invention, Antony?"
"The invention," I said bitterly, "lags behind. It is impossible to get
on."
"Is--is it all waste of time, then?"
"Waste? No," I said. "The invention is one that would carry all before
it; but, poor fellow, he is tied and fettered at every turn. He has
nearly got it to perfection, but, after months of constant toil, some
wretched part breaks down, and the whole thing has to be done again."
"But is it likely to succeed?"
"Likely?" I said: "it must succeed; but it never can until it has been
made and tried. It should be carefully constructed at some large
engineering establishment like ours."
"Yes," she said, evidently listening intently.
"But how can it be? Poor Hallett earns about two pounds a week, and the
demands upon his pocket, through his mother's and sister's illness, have
been terrible. He is heavily in debt now to the doctors."
"Why do you not help your friend, then, Antony?" she said in tones of
reproach.
"Because he will not let me," I replied quietly. "He is too proud."
Miss Carr was silent.
"What amount would it take," she said at last, in a strange tone, "to
perfect the machine?"
"Amount?" I said eagerly; "an awful deal. It is impossible to say how
much. Why, the patent would cost nearly a hundred. Poor fellow! I
wish sometimes he would give it up."
"Why?" she exclaimed softly.
"Because," I said, "it is breaking his heart."
"Is--is he so constant in his attentions to it?"
"Oh yes, Miss Carr. Whenever he can spare a minute, he is working or
dreaming over it; he calls it his love--his mistress, in a half-mocking
sort of spirit. Poor fellow, it is a sad life."
There was again a deep silence in the room.
"Antony," she said again, "why do you not help your friend?"
"I do," I said eagerly. "I have worked at it all night with him
sometimes, and spent all my pocket-money upon it--though he doesn't know
it. He thinks I have turned some of the wheels and spindles myself, but
I set some of our best workmen to do it, and cut me the cogs and
ratchets."
"And paid for them yourself?"
"Yes, Miss Carr. I could not have made them well enough."
"But why not help him more substantially, Antony? With the money that
is required?"
"I help him?" I said.
She did not answer for a few moments, for a struggle was going on within
her breast, but she spoke at last. Her pride and feminine shrinking had
given way before the love that she had been striving these many months
to crush, but which was sweeping all before it now.
"Antony," she said softly, "I can trust to you, I know; and I feel that
whatever I help you in will be for the best. You shall help your friend
Mr Hallett. My purse shall be open to you, and you shall find the
means to enable him to carry his project to success."
"Oh, Miss Carr!" I cried; and in my new delight I caught and kissed her
hand.
She laid one upon my shoulder, but her head was averted still, and then
she motioned me to resume my seat.
"Does that satisfy you, Antony?" she said.
"Yes--no," I cried, getting up and walking up and down the room. "He
would not take the money; he would be a great deal too proud."
"Would not take the money, Antony? Why?"
"Because he would know that it came from you."
"And knowing that the money came from me, Antony, would he not take it?"
"No, I am sure he would not."
"Why?"
"Because--because--Miss Carr, should you be angry with me if I told you
the truth?"
She paused again, some minutes, before she replied softly, but in so
strange a tone: "No, Antony. How could I?"
"Because, Miss Carr, I am sure he loves you: and he would think it
lowered him in your eyes."
She turned upon me a look that seemed hot with anger, but the next
moment she had turned her face away, and I could see that her bosom was
heaving with suppressed emotion.
A great struggle was evidently going on within her breast, and it was
some time before she could master it. At last, however, she turned to
me a face that was deadly pale, and there was something very stern in
her looks as she said to me:
"Antony, we have been separated for a year, but can you speak to me with
the same boyish truth and candour as of old, in the spirit taught you,
my dear boy, by the father and mother you have lost?"
"Oh yes, Miss Carr," I said frankly, as I laid my hand in hers, and
looked in her beautiful eyes.
"Yes, Antony, you can," she said softly. "Tell me, then, has Mr
Hallett ever dared to say such a thing as--as that to you?"
"Never, Miss Carr."
"Has--has my name been made the subject of conversation amongst your
friends?"
"Never, Miss Carr."
"Or been coupled with his?"
"Oh! no, no," I cried, "never. Mr Hallett has rarely mentioned your
name."
"Then how can you--how can you dare to make such an assertion as you
did?"
"I don't know," I replied thoughtfully. "I could not tell you how it
is, but I am sure he does love you as much as I do, Miss Carr."
"I believe you do, Antony," she said, bending forward and kissing my
forehead. "But, you foolish boy, drive that other notion from your
head, and if you do love me, Antony--and I would have you love me, my
boy, as dearly as you loved her who has gone--never speak to your
dearest friend of our words to-night."
"Oh, you may trust me for that," I said proudly.
"I do trust you, Antony, and I see now that your ideas are right about
the money. Still, I should like you to help your friend."
"So should I," I said; and I sat thinking dreamily over the matter,
being intensely desirous of helping Hallett, till it was time to go,
when an idea occurred to me which I proposed to Miss Carr, one which she
gladly accepted, joining eagerly in what was, perhaps, a deception, but
one most truly and kindly meant.