"I _am_ glad you made that remark. I shall never forget it--never."
Again he had to ask her what it was.
"About your feeling just the same to me if I were as poor as a church
mouse."
"So I should," he answered, with enthusiasm. "How could riches enhance
your value? A man likes a girl for herself. He is indifferent, quite
indifferent as to whether she has money or not."
"That is the sort of man I admire," said Florence.
"Well, always remember that I have said it of you. Don't forget, will
you?"
"I shall never forget," she replied; and then they went back to the
house where Susie, being tired out with strumming on the old piano, had
begged for round games. There was a great deal of fun; and altogether
Christmas night passed with _eclat_. The girls went back in high
spirits, and as they were going to bed that evening, Florence said to
Brenda--
"How did you enjoy yourself?"
"Fairly well," she replied; "but I saw that you looked happy."
"I was," said Florence. "I have found one true man in the world."
"Michael Reid?" remarked Brenda. "You talked and danced with him a good
deal."
"Yes; he said one queer thing--in fact, he said it three times. He must
be a very good fellow, better even than--than we imagined."
"What did he say?" asked Brenda, as she unfastened her sister's white
frock, and slightly yawned, for she was tired and wanted to go to bed.
"He said that he would like a girl quite as well if she were as poor as
a church mouse. He said it so earnestly, too. He knows nothing about
us, but you know that sort of remark would not have been believed by the
girls at school; would it, Brenda?"
"No; I expect not. Well, you are as poor as a church mouse, Flo, but
you didn't tell him so?"
"Of course I didn't. No one must know before poor Mrs Fortescue, and I
suppose she must be told after we have been to London to see Lady Marian
Dixie. All the same, Brenda, I can't realise it a bit. Things are
going on just as usual, and we are to stay here till the end of our
holidays. We have till at least the twentieth of January to be happy
in. Why should we be miserable till then?"
"I have no intention of being miserable," was Brenda's remark.
A few minutes later, the girls got into bed and slept with that sound
refreshing sleep which only comes to most of us in early youth. The
next day, Lieutenant Reid did himself the pleasure of calling on Mrs
Fortescue. He said he came to see her, but he looked decidedly
disappointed when he was told that both the girls were out.
"They are with Susie Arbuthnot," she said. "They went early this
morning and won't be back until late. I think they are going to have
tea at the Arbuthnots'." Mr Reid's face decidedly fell. "But you and
I will have tea together," said Mrs Fortescue; "and I can tell you
about the dear girls. I can see that you are much interested in them."
"Can you?" he asked, looking at her critically.
She laughed.
"Of course I can," she said. "Why, you hardly left my beautiful
Florence's side the whole of yesterday evening. You ought not to pay
such marked attentions if you don't mean anything by them."
"But suppose I do mean something," he said, all of a sudden.
Then Mrs Fortescue drew her chair nearer to that of the gallant
lieutenant and spoke with great earnestness.
"I have not the least idea," she said, "what the girls' fortunes will
be; but I know, of course, that they must be exceedingly well off. No
expense has been spared during their school-days. Their dress has been
quiet but of the most expensive make, and they have been taught every
possible accomplishment, even riding, which you know is always a serious
item in school bills. Mr Timmins is a very reserved man, and has told
me nothing of what is now to happen to them."
"But surely, you must know something?" said the lieutenant, who at that
moment seemed quite to forget that he would like Florence equally well
if she were as poor as a church mouse.
"As a matter of fact, I know nothing. Mr Timmins came down to see the
girls on Christmas Eve, and was with them for a little time, but he had
no talk with me. Still, I make not the slightest doubt that I shall
hear from him soon and, in all probability, we shall leave Langdale and
go to London. I am quite willing to go with the dear children and to
help them any way in my power."
"They will both marry young," said the lieutenant, with exceeding gloom
in his voice. "They will be surrounded by suitors of all sorts. A
homely sort of fellow like--like--"
"Oh, you mustn't compare yourself to a homely sort of fellow," said Mrs
Fortescue.
"An officer in His Majesty's army! A soldier can take his place with
any man."
"I know; but then I have nothing of my own, nothing at all, except what
my dear old father allows me. I ought not to think about the girls--
about either of them."
Mrs Fortescue paused to consider.
"I don't know that you ought," she said. She had her own ideas for her
young charges, and Lieutenant Reid, a native of Langdale, would bring no
special credit to her management. People would say that it was a pretty
romance; the girl and the young man met when they were still children.
But that was all they could say about a young and beautiful heiress
marrying a penniless man. After a pause, she said--
"You have not really confided in me, and, of course, if there is true
and passionate and real love, I am the last person to stand in the way;
but without it I think both those young girls ought to have their
chances."
Mrs Fortescue spoke with precision and reserve. Reid thought her a
tiresome woman, and hoped sincerely that some one else would chaperone
the girls when they first went to London. His intention, however, was
to secure Florence before that date. He thought he had already made an
impression on her, and if Mrs Fortescue did not help him, Susie
Arbuthnot would. Susie was the very soul of romance. Behind Susie's
red face shone a soul, the kindest and most chivalrous in the world; and
Susie's true heart beat for all that she considered true in love and
bravery. A man must be brave, and a man must be loving. That was all
she considered necessary, and surely Lieutenant Reid, the young man she
had known from a boy, possessed these two attributes. Yes, he would
give up Mrs Fortescue, and consult Susie on the subject of Florence
Heathcote.
Accordingly, he declined tea, although some special hot cakes were being
made for him in the kitchen, and went away holding his head very high
and looking, as Mrs Fortescue said to herself, "quite distinguished."
"I must be careful not to allow my dear Florence to see too much of
him," she said to herself. "It would never do for her to fall in love
with him before she has seen other men."
Reid strolled about in the neighbourhood of the Arbuthnots' house until,
as it were quite by accident, he came across the merry girls and equally
merry Miss Arbuthnot returning home from their walk. They were carrying
sprays of holly and quantities of mistletoe, and looked each one of
them, in her own way, quite charming. Reid fell naturally to Florence's
share, and Brenda and Susie walked on in front.
When they got to the front door, Susie invited "dear Captain Reid" to
come in and have tea with them, and dear Captain Reid accepted the
invitation with alacrity.
"It is so funny," said Florence, "to hear her invariably call you
`Captain': and you never correct her; why don't you?"
"Because I like the sound," he answered. "I shall be Captain, I hope,
before long; and I like it, for your sake."
"For my sake?" she said, colouring faintly.
"Yes; there is nothing I would not do for you. There is no ambition
that would not fill my heart and soul for your sake. You know that,
Florence, don't you?"
"I don't," said Florence, rather bluntly. "I can't imagine for a single
moment why you talk as you do."
"I only felt that you must know," he answered. He was a little piqued
by her manner; but then, when he looked into her eyes--yes, they were
dark grey to-day, and he did admire dark grey eyes, they were so
expressive--he felt that she, herself, alone, independent of thousands,
was a girl worth winning. He really began to be quite in love with her.
He delighted in the feeling which she gave him. He wondered if it was
really true, and if he would be steadfast to her if she were as poor as
a church mouse. But then he thought again with a throb of delight how
unnecessary that feeling was, for Florence would be rich; only he must
secure her before she went to London.
Tea was brought in, and the tea was excellent. There were several nice
cakes and choice little dainties left after the dinner of the day
before, and Colonel Arbuthnot joined the social gathering and made
himself extremely agreeable, and in the end Reid accompanied the young
ladies back to Mrs Fortescue's house.
With Brenda by his side, he could not say anything special to Florence,
but it was already quite perceptible that he liked her and had singled
her out for attention. Susie Arbuthnot noticed it; so did the Colonel;
and so certainly also did Mrs Fortescue.
Mrs Fortescue was the only one who was annoyed. The Reids were a good
old family. Michael Reid, as far as any one knew, had always been an
excellent fellow. He had done well at school, and had passed into the
Army with ease. There was no reason why he should not marry a girl with
money, particularly as he liked her.
So said Colonel Arbuthnot, who knew nothing about the young fellow's
debts. Susie, who had been talking the matter over with her father,
quite started and coloured a somewhat ugly red when Major Reid was
announced.
Major Reid sat down in the chair which his son had just occupied, and
immediately began to talk about the Heathcote girls.
"How different they are from others," he said. "I have seldom seen any
one quite--to my ideas--so beautiful as Florence."
Then Colonel Arbuthnot said something which made Susie long to wear her
grey barege in order that she might rustle the silk. He said gravely--
"Your son seems to agree with you, Major."
"Ah!" said the Major. "Do you think so? Well, nothing could give me
greater happiness."
After that Susie got up to leave the room, but her father called her
back.
"We have no secrets from you, Tabby," he said.
Tabby was his favourite name for her, and she sat down again near his
side.
"The fact is," said the Major, "I want Mike to settle down, and I don't
believe that anything will do him real good, or bring out the best that
is in him, like marriage. I think that Florence Heathcote would make
him an admirable wife. Of course, he could not afford to marry without
money, but as she has plenty, that would make no difficulty. I think,
too, he would care for her for herself."
"Oh, I know he would; he loves her dearly?" said romantic Susie. "Now
that you have spoken, I will tell you a little incident. He came here
on purpose last night, before any one else, in order to make sure that
he was to take her in to dinner. I don't mind confessing to you, Major
Reid, that I had arranged differently; but after he had spoken of it,
there was no help for me. I made the change quite easily--"
"Good girl; good girl!" said the Major. "Well, if he asks me to give
him my blessing on such a match, you may be quite sure I shall do so.
But we must await events; things cannot be hurried; the girl is very
young."
"She is indeed," said Colonel Arbuthnot; "nothing more than a child."
It was on the next day that the girls received a letter from Mr
Timmins. It was addressed to Miss Heathcote, and was sealed with a
large red seal. It had a thick and massive appearance, and caused Mrs
Fortescue pangs of intense curiosity as she handled it before her young
charges came downstairs to breakfast. There was no other letter that
morning, so she was able to turn it round and look at the seal, which
bore the inscription of "Timmins and Co, Solicitors, Chancery Lane," and
also to feel the bulk of the epistle. It was a long envelope, and Mrs
Fortescue felt absolutely devoured with curiosity with regard to the
contents. To open, however, a sealed envelope was an impossibility, and
she did not dare even to attempt the work.
She was seated quietly in front of her copper urn when the girls came
in.
"Well, my dears," she said; "how are you? I hope you have slept well."
"Capitally, thank you," said Brenda; and then her eyes flew to her
plate, and she saw the long letter lying on it. She turned a little
pale, and a swift contraction went through her heart.
Florence, however, did not even glance at the letter. She danced into
the room in her usually gay and sprightly manner and sat down, saying as
she did so--
"Oh, I am so hungry. I do hope that we have something very nice for
breakfast."
"You know I always think of your tastes, dears," said Mrs Fortescue,
who felt more than ever inclined to pet the girls that morning. "I have
got the most delicious kippers and that special porridge with cream
which you like so much. There will be hot cakes afterwards, so I hope
you will have enough to eat."
"Oh yes, yes!" said Florence. "Am I not hungry!"
She glanced at her sister as she spoke, and saw that Brenda's grave eyes
were fixed on the letter. Brenda had not attempted to open it. She had
laid it quietly by her plate.
"Who is your correspondent?" asked Florence.
"I don't know," said Brenda; "but I suppose it is from Mr Timmins."
Then Florence somehow felt her appetite going and a coldness stealing
over her. But Mrs Fortescue was in the best of spirits.
"I am delighted the man has written," she said. "It was so queer of him
to come down on Christmas Eve and have a long talk with you two girls
and not say a word to me. Of course, you know, my darlings, that you
are to me as my very own children, and there is nothing I would not do
for you--"
"You would keep us with you if we were as poor as church mice, for
instance," said Florence, raising her eyes (they looked brown this
morning) and fixing them with a saucy air on the good lady's face.
"Indeed I would. I love you far beyond mere money. But what I want to
say to you is this,"--Mrs Fortescue broke a piece of toast as she
spoke, and her voice became a little nervous--"that whatever Mr Timmins
intends to do for your future, I do trust he will not leave me out of
it. I do not think it would be right of him, seeing that I have had the
care of you ever since you have been both little children."
"We have been most of our time at school, have we not?" said Brenda.
"Yes, dear; that is quite true; but who has prepared you for your
school, and who has done her utmost to make your holidays happy?"
"Indeed, you have!" said Brenda, her voice full of feeling. "You have
been most kind."
"That is all I want you to say, Brenda. Well, what I wish is to go on
being kind. You will probably go to London, and I should like to go
with you. Until you marry, my dears--and alas! I fear that auspicious
event will take place soon with you both,"--here she glanced at
Florence, who grew quite red--"until you marry, you will need a
chaperone, and who so suitable as me? If you see Mr Timmins, will you
mention to him, dears, that I am more than anxious to do for you in the
future what I did in the past?"
"Yes, oh yes; we will be sure to say it," said Florence in a glib tone.
Breakfast went on. Brenda did not attempt to open her letter.
"I wonder why you don't read what the good man has said," remarked Mrs
Fortescue. "He probably, to judge from the size of that letter, has
given you full directions with regard to your future plans. I cannot
imagine why he does not write to me."
"I will read the letter, if you like," said Brenda in her gentlest
voice.
"Do so, dear; I should be so much obliged."
Brenda opened it. There was a long foolscap sheet which, as far as Mrs
Fortescue's acute vision could discern, was filled with accounts; and
then there was a letter. The accounts pleased her, only she was puzzled
that they had not been sent to her. Hitherto, she had always been
consulted about the dear girls.
The letter was very short, and when Brenda had run her eyes over it, she
folded it up and put it back into its envelope, placing the accounts
also there for future study.
"Well, well?" said Mrs Fortescue, with great interest.
"Mr Timmins wants us both to go up to London to-morrow to see him."
"And, of course, I am to go with you."
"He does not say so; in fact, I know he wishes us to go alone."
"That is very odd."
"He tells us the train to go by," pursued Brenda, "and also the train by
which we can return. If we leave here at nine o'clock to-morrow
morning, we shall get to London a little before twelve. We can be back
with you in time for dinner or supper."
"And he says nothing about my going?"
"He does. He says he wishes us to go alone; that we are to travel
first-class. He sends us a postal order for our fares."
"First-class!" said Mrs Fortescue, with a sniff. "Of course girls in
your position will travel first-class. It is absurd even to think of
any other mode of travelling."
"Yes," said Brenda calmly, "he says first-class, and he has sent us the
money."
"He wants to talk to you about your future, dears."
"Probably," said Brenda. "We shall have to go," she continued, and she
looked across at Florence.
Florence said "Yes," but her tone was not very lively. Mrs Fortescue
glanced at her.
"She is thinking of Lieutenant Reid," was her thought. "Poor child!
Well, of course, he is handsome and well-born, and she has plenty of
money, only I always did think that with her great beauty she would be
the one to make the best match. However, there is no interfering with
nature, and if she loves him--and beyond doubt he loves her--it will be
all right." Aloud Mrs Fortescue said--
"You had better send a telegram to Mr Timmins to tell him you will go
up by the train you mention. I will prepare sandwiches for you for the
journey, and take you to the station and come again to meet the train by
which you return. Nothing will induce me to neglect even a particle of
my duty: you may be certain of that, my loves. Only I do hope, Brenda,
that if you can put in a word for one who truly loves you, during your
interview with Mr Timmins, you will mention me as the chaperone you
would like best."
"I will mention you with real affection," said Brenda; and she got up as
she spoke and, going up to the little woman, kissed her on her forehead.
Then she said, gently: "Mr Timmins specially says not to send a
telegram--that a postcard will do equally well."