CHAPTER XVIII

WITH FRIENDS AGAIN

"Friendship! Mysterious cement of the soul!

Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society,

I owe thee much."

BLAIR.

AGAIN Heather found herself at the Priory, for a farewell visit before

she went abroad. It was autumn, and the roses and dahlias brightened

the old house with their rich colouring. As she stood on the lawn by

Ena's side the first morning after her arrival, she gave a little sigh

of happiness.

"It is good to be here," she said, "and I am going to enjoy my time

with you to the full, so that I shall look back with pleasure to this

visit when I am abroad this coming winter."

"I wish you were not going," said Ena.

"Please don't make me dissatisfied. I have decided that it is right to

go, so we will not talk about it."

"That is Regina's tone," said Ena, laughing, for she had heard of

Cyril's nickname, and sometimes used it herself.

Heather laughed with her, then said a little wistfully—

"Don't think me headstrong. I have had to decide things myself, and no

one else can judge for me. I think I am being taught more and more that

I must stand alone."

"Never alone, Heather."

"No," said Heather, colouring, "not in the sense you mean, and that is

my greatest comfort."

She changed the subject, and began asking Ena about her friends.

Presently Captain Vaughan came up.

"I am off on a fishing expedition, Miss Fotheringay. Won't you bring

Ena out this afternoon, and meet me at the pool below St. Margaret's? I

shall work down the river that way."

"I should like to very much, if you feel up to it, Ena."

"Yes, I shall manage very well, and we will take the kettle in the

bottom of my chair, and have tea down there. It is an exquisite day."

So it was settled, and soon after lunch they started, Dick in high

feather at having the "charge of the h'expedition," as he expressed it.

St. Margaret's was a ruined convent beneath a wooded hillside, and in

a most exquisite hollow close to the river, which dashed over grey

boulders of rock, arched in by overhanging trees. Ferns of the rarest

kind grew in profusion along its banks, and Ena's chair was drawn up

into a mossy glade, a little way from the rush of the water. There was

no sign of Captain Vaughan when they got there, and Heather flitted

about, gathering fir cones and dry sticks to kindle the fire, with

girlish delight. Jack helped her with his usual dignity, and amused her

with his remarks:

"It h'appears too damp a h'atmosphere to h'ignite as it should," he

said, watching her unavailing efforts to create the flame.

But Heather persevered, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the

flames curl and crackle round the kettle.

"Isn't it delicious here?" she said presently, throwing herself down on

the grass by Ena's side. "It makes one feel at peace with all mankind."

Ena was busy with her sketching block. She was a clever artist, and was

rapidly filling in the nook in front of her.

"Now, Heather dear, go a little farther away, and I will put you in.

There—just so! I will not trouble you long."

"You must give it to me as a memento, only I should like your figure in

it, not mine."

Just as the sketch was being finished, Captain Vaughan appeared. He had

had a successful day, and turned out his fish with some pride before

his sister's eyes. Then, lounging on the grass by her side, he looked

at her sketch, and Heather, springing up, busied herself about the tea.

"I have told Ena," she said to Captain Vaughan, "that if I am to keep

that sketch I would rather she figured in it than I. Her own position

and background is quite a picture, and I long to sketch it myself."

"Don't you sketch at all?" asked Captain Vaughan, a little lazily.

"No; I have no talents—except, perhaps, music. But I got disheartened

when I was in town over that. Bluebell and I were brought up in

the old-fashioned style, and my harp-playing seemed to most very

extraordinary, I know."

"I will try my hand at a sketch," said Captain Vaughan, taking block

and pencil out of his sister's possession, in his slow deliberate way.

And by the time tea was served round, he had sketched Ena in her chair,

with the background of rocks and overhanging green, with such a true

and skilful touch that Heather was delighted.

"It is you exactly, isn't it, Ena? It is for me? Oh, thank you. When I

am on the Mediterranean with my old lady I shall often look at it."

A little sigh escaped her, but she changed it into a laugh as she went

on—

"Bluebell advises me to keep a diary, and call it 'Views of Riviera

Life by one in the Background.' She says if I was very racy in my

description of people and things, I could get it printed, and Mudie

would take it. I am afraid it would be a strong temptation to present

my charge in a ludicrous light. Her very appearance is awe-inspiring.

She is a conglomeration of colour and scent, and always wears white kid

gloves."

"I want you to have some people to dinner this week, Ena," said Captain

Vaughan, rather abruptly.

Heather often fancied her friends and interests bored him, and she was

always sorry when she became communicative in his presence.

"Who are they?" asked Ena.

"He is a friend I met in Rome some years ago. He is a dabbler in

archaeology and antiquities, and he married a Miss Phillips. Her father

is the noted sculptor. They are staying with the Gregorys; of course

you must ask them too."

"Very well. How would Friday suit you? Or is it too short notice?"

As brother and sister were discussing the subject, Heather wandered off

by herself along the river-side. She had a keen love of all that was

beautiful in nature, and this quiet, peaceful spot seemed to soothe

and quiet her anxious spirit. For though outwardly brave over her

future, she had many qualms and fears about it. She could not forget

the conversation at her sister's over the eccentric old lady who was

to give her a home, and she viewed her gambling propensity with the

greatest horror. Would she be able to stand her ground and refuse to

participate in the nightly play? Ought she to acquaint the old lady

with her principles, and let her know she could not oblige her on this

point? Yet, as nothing had been said to her about it when she was

engaged, it might after all be merely exaggerated gossip. Weighing the

matter to and fro in her mind, Heather walked on.

She crossed the river by a slender plank, and then climbed up into the

fir-woods above, thinking she would catch sight of the others below.

But she had miscalculated the distance, and when she turned to retrace

her steps, the many winding paths in the wood confused her, and she

missed her bearings altogether. For some time she struggled to reach

the river, but the dense foliage below prevented her from seeing it,

and she at last stopped in despair.

"It is ridiculous to think that I am lost," she said, half laughing,

half vexed; "they will wonder where I am. I shall not trust to these

paths any longer. If I clamber straight down, I must come to the river,

and then I shall find my way."

With this resolve, she started her downward path through brambles and

undergrowth, and then suddenly, without a warning, the slippery soil

below her feet gave way, and down she rolled, over and over, with

increased force and swiftness, till unconsciousness came to her aid,

and she knew no more. When she at length opened her eyes, she found

herself lying against a fallen tree about twenty feet above the river,

which dashed along as merrily as ever. Her head felt bruised and

aching, and, when she tried to raise herself, she found her left arm

doubled under her, and giving her exquisite pain when she moved it.

After several struggles, she succeeded in getting to her feet, and then

she found she had cut her forehead in her fall.

With one hand she tried to stop the bleeding and bandage it, but she

became so faint that she was obliged to reseat herself on the ground

and wait for assistance. She tried to call out, but she was still too

dazed with her fall to put much energy into her cries.

It was a happy moment when in the distance she heard the sound of

footsteps, and the crackling of the dead twigs underfoot told her that

some one was approaching. And when she saw the brown fishing-suit of

Captain Vaughan through the trees, she called out for help with fresh

vigour.

In another moment he was by her side. "I have been scouring the wood

for you," he said cheerily. "Have you lost yourself? Ena has gone on. I

persuaded her to go, though she was loth to do it; but it was getting

late. Not hurt, are you?"

He was leaning over her now.

And weak and unnerved, Heather was struggling against tears. "I've had

a tumble," she said with quivering lip, "and I've hurt my arm. I almost

think it must be broken."

[Illustration: CAPTAIN VAUGHAN MADE AN IMPROMPTU SLING.]

"Let me see it. Ah! Don't move. We must put it in a sling till it can

be seen to."

Captain Vaughan was not easily nonplussed. He slipped out of his pocket

a large silk handkerchief, and in two minutes had made an impromptu

sling. Then, as deftly and quietly as a woman, he took her own

handkerchief and bound up her forehead.

"Now sit still," he said quietly, "and drink this. And then we will see

about getting home."

He produced his flask, and Heather did as she was told, and the colour

crept back into her lips and cheeks.

In a short time she was able to walk, though in great pain. Captain

Vaughan took good care of her, and though talking cheerily all the

time, made her take his arm, and led her as gently as possible along

the river bank.

Heather strove to be cheerful, and when they at last reached the

Priory, she turned to him with tears in her eyes.

"I can't thank you, Captain Vaughan. You have been so good to me."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, laughing; "it is not much I have been able to

do. Come in and lie down. I will send that young scamp Dick for the

doctor. Here, Ena, we have a patient on our hands, but I hope it is

nothing serious."

It was not serious. She was bruised and shaken by the fall, and had

broken a small bone in her arm; but quiet and complete rest for a few

days did wonders, and she was almost herself again in ten days' time.

"You are too good to me, Ena," she said to her friend one afternoon,

when she insisted upon her resting on the sofa in her morning-room, and

brought her some grapes and a book to amuse herself with. "Think how I

shall miss all this attention soon."

"The more reason you should have a little of it now," said Ena,

playfully. Then she added seriously, "I would give anything to have you

here altogether. I have become so dependent on your society, that when

you are away I feel inexpressibly lonely."

"But you have your brother."

"He is out a great deal. Oh, I know I ought not to complain, and I am

never unhappy, only I think having you about me has made me feel not

quite such a hopeless and incurable invalid."

It was seldom Ena touched upon her infirmity. Heather looked wistfully

at her.

"If I come back with my old lady next spring, perhaps you would let me

come to you for another visit."

"You know how delighted I shall be. Oh, Heather dear, why don't you

throw it all up and be my companion instead?"

Heather smiled and shook her head.

"We have argued that out many times. I am afraid I am too proud, for

one thing. I must and will be independent of my friends, even of my

sister, who is only too anxious I should make my home with her."

"I don't believe we were brought together to be separated so soon," Ena

went on, leaning back in her chair and looking out upon the lawn with

dreamy eyes.

"We were brought together that you might be the means of bringing me a

big blessing," said Heather, stretching out her hand to her friend. "If

we drift apart on earth, we shall have eternity together."

"Yes; but I have a strong feeling that we shall not be allowed to drift

apart," was the quick response.

"We will hope not. At all events, we can write to each other. I often

think how good God has been to me, Ena. Just at the time when I was

missing Bluebell so intensely, He sent you into our neighbourhood. It

does look as if you were meant to take her place. I don't think I could

have borne her being gradually taken away from me if I had not found a

friend in you. I feel Bluebell will never be the same to me again now

as she was before she married."

"Yes," repeated Ena, smiling, "and I still believe we are meant to live

together, and I am waiting God's time for that pleasure to come."

Heather shook her head, and changed the subject.

Heather's mistress · 第 18 / 22 章