after you left, I went to look for them behind the curtains, and
smuggled them downstairs beneath my coat. I don't know what possessed
me to do it, but I did, and I have them still!"
Mr Bertrand threw back his head with a burst of laughter.
"Oh, after that! If you have got the length of treasuring worsted
slippers, there is no more to be said. Rayner, my dear fellow, I
suppose I ought to be distressed, but I believe I am--uncommonly pleased
and proud! Little Hilary! It would be delightful to feel that you were
one of us. And have you any idea as to whether she cares for you in
return?"
"We have always been great friends. I cannot say more. And do you
really give me permission to speak to her? Would you give her to me, in
spite of my weakness and infirmity? How can I ever express my thanks?"
"If Hilary cares for you, I will put no hindrance in your way; but we
must have no more mistakes. I will not allow an engagement until I have
satisfied myself as to her feelings. There is one comfort: she knows
her own mind uncommonly well, as a rule. You can speak to her when you
will..."
Although the conversation lasted for some time longer, the same things
were practically repeated over and over again, and when the two
gentlemen came in to lunch, the girls and Miss Carr all noticed the
unusual radiance of their expressions. The last few weeks had contained
so much trouble and worry, that it was quite inspiriting to see bright
faces again, and to hear genuine laughter take the place of the forced
"ha, ha!" which had done duty for so long. Even Lettice smiled once or
twice in the course of that meal, and Norah's eyes lost their dreamy,
far-away look and twinkled with the old merry expression, while Hilary
nodded gaily across the table in answer to her father's searching look,
and chattered away all unsuspecting of the great event which was so
close at hand.
When Mr Rayner asked her to take her work to the seat overlooking the
lake, in the afternoon, she said, "Won't you come too, Lettice?" and
tripped after him, humming a lively air.
It was a very different Hilary who returned to the hotel two hours
later, and went to join her father on the verandah. Her face was pale
and serious; she looked older and more womanlike; but there was a steady
light of happiness in her eyes which told its own tale.
"Well, Hilary," he asked gravely, "and what is it to be?"
"There is no doubt about that, father! It is to be as he wants--now and
always!"
"I thought as much. But you must realise what you are doing, dear.
When most girls are married they look forward to having a strong man's
arm between them and the world; they expect to be shielded from trouble;
but if you marry Rayner, this will not be your lot. You will have to
watch over him, to spare him fatigue and anxiety, and take the burden on
your own shoulders, for he is a man who will require constant care."
"I know that. It is what I long to do. I should be so happy looking
after him."
"And perhaps--it seems brutal to mention it, but the possibility must be
faced--he might not be spared to you for many years! A delicate fellow
like that--"
"Strong men die unexpectedly, father, as well as weakly ones. Everyone
has to run that risk. I would rather be his wife even for two or three
years than marry any other man. And I will nurse him so well--take such
good care--"
"Ah, I see your mind is made up! Well, dear, some people would think I
was doing a foolish thing in consenting to this engagement, but I _do_
consent. I do more than that, I rejoice with all my heart in your
happiness, and in my own happiness, for it will be a joy to every one of
us. Rayner will be a son-in-law worth having, and a husband of whom any
woman might be proud. Ah, well! this is something like an engagement!
That other unhappy affair was nothing but trouble from first to last.
You know your mind, my dear, and are not likely to change."
"Never!" said Hilary. And her eyes flashed with a bright, determined
look, at which her father smiled.
"That's good hearing! Well, dear, we will have another talk later on,
but now we had better go and join the others. They are curious to know
what we are whispering about over here."
Miss Carr had come out of the hotel after her afternoon nap, and was
seated on the verandah beside the two younger girls. Mr Rayner had
joined them, and was listening with mischievous enjoyment to their
speculations about Hilary's conference with her father.
"How interested they seem! Now he is kissing her. Why don't they come
over here and tell us all about it?" cried Norah; and, as if anxious to
gratify her curiosity, Mr Bertrand came towards the verandah at that
very moment, and presenting Hilary to them with a flourishing hand,
cried roguishly--
"Allow me to introduce to you the future Mrs Herbert Rayner!"
The excitement, joy, and astonishment of the next few minutes can be
better imagined than described. Miss Carr shed tears into her teacup;
the girls repeated incoherently that they had always expected it, and
that they had never expected it; and Mr Bertrand was as mischievous in
his teasing ways as Raymond himself could have been under the
circumstances; but the lovers were too happy to be disturbed by his
sallies. It was both beautiful and touching to see Mr Rayner's quiet
radiance, and to watch how his eyes lightened whenever they lit on
Hilary's face, while to see that self-possessed young lady looking shy
and embarrassed was something new indeed in the annals of the family!
Shy she was, however, beyond possibility of doubt, hardly daring to look
in Mr Rayner's direction, and refusing outright to address him by his
Christian name for the edification of the listeners.
"What is there to be frightened at? I am not frightened! Herbert, do
you take sugar, Herbert? Will you have two lumps, Herbert?" cried
Lettice saucily, and everyone smiled, pleased to see the lovely face
lighted up by the old merry smile, and to hear a joke from the lips
which had drooped so sadly.
"Will you put me in a story, Herbert, if I'm very good, and promise not
to tease?" said Norah, determined not to be outdone; and the new brother
looked at her with admiring eyes.
"I think I rather enjoy being teased, do you know; it is so very new and
satisfactory! But I shall certainly make a heroine of you some fine
day, Norah, when I have manufactured a hero worthy of the occasion!"
Norah's laugh rang out merrily, but as she turned her head to look at
the distant mountains, a little film of moisture dimmed her eyes.
Impossible to see two people so happy together as Herbert and Hilary,
and not think of the long years which must pass before such a joy came
to herself. But Rex was true--he would not change; he was worth all the
waiting--
"Well, Helen," said Mr Bertrand to his faithful old friend as the young
people moved off at last and left them alone together. "Well, Helen,
and what do you think of this latest development? Are you satisfied?
Have I been wise?--Do you think he is the right man for her?"
Miss Carr looked at him with a little flash of disdain.
"I think," she said slowly, "that Hilary has improved so wonderfully
during the last few years, that there is now some chance of her being
_almost_ good enough for him! My dear Austin, he is a king among men!
Hilary may be a proud woman that his choice has fallen upon her. They
will be very happy."
"I trust, I think they will! It seems strange that it should be Hilary,
who was always so careful of her own interests, who should have chosen
to marry a delicate, crippled fellow who must be more or less of a care
all his days; but I believe it will make a splendid woman of her, draw
out all the tenderness of her nature, and soften her as nothing else
could have done. Yes! I am thoroughly happy about it, more especially
as it has the honour of your distinguished approval. These engagements
come thick and fast upon us, Helen. Let us hope there will be a
breathing time now for some time to come. Lettice is bound to marry
sooner or later, but we will pray for `later,' and as for Norah, I
suppose her future is practically settled. Poor child! it will be a
long waiting, but Rex is a fine lad, and is bound to succeed. He knows
his own mind, too, and will not be likely to change; while Norah--"
"Yes, she is one of the steadfast ones, but she is only a child, Austin,
and will be none the worse for the time of waiting."
"And I cannot regret it, since through it I shall be able to keep one of
my little lasses with me for some years at least. I shall be a lonely
man when they all take flight! ... Come, it is getting chilly. Let us
go into the house."
End of Project Gutenberg's Sisters Three, by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey