Part 62 (1/2)

Tessa's arms crept round his neck. ”I dreamt,” she said, ”that you and I, Uncle St. Bernard, were walking in a great big city, and there was a church with a golden spire. There were a lot of steps up to it--and Scooter--” a sob rose in her throat and was swiftly suppressed--”was sunning himself on the top. And I tried to run up the steps and catch him, but there were always more and more and more steps, and I couldn't get any nearer. And I cried at last, I was so tired and disappointed.

And then--” the bony arms tightened--”you came up behind me, and took my hand and said, 'Why don't you kneel down and pray? It's much the quickest way.' And so I did,” said Tessa simply. ”And all of a sudden the steps were gone, and you and I went in together. I tried to pick up Scooter, but he ran away, and I didn't mind 'cos I knew he was safe. I was so happy, so very happy. I didn't want to wake again.” A doleful note crept into Tessa's voice; she swallowed another sob.

Bernard lifted her bodily from the bed to his arms. ”Don't fret, little sweetheart! I'm here,” he said.

She lifted her face to his, very wet and piteous. ”Uncle St. Bernard, I've been praying and praying--ever such a lot since my birthday-party.

You said I might, didn't you? But G.o.d hasn't taken any notice.”

He held her close. ”What have you been praying for, my darling?” he said.

”I do--so--want to be your little girl,” answered Tessa with a break in her voice. ”I never really prayed for anything before--only the things Aunt Mary made me say--and they weren't what I wanted. But I do want this. And I believe I'd get quite good if I was your little girl. I told G.o.d so, but I don't think He cared.”

”Yes. He did care, darling.” Very softly Bernard rea.s.sured her. ”Don't you think that ever! He is going to answer that prayer of yours--pretty soon now.”

”Oh, is He?” said Tessa, brightening. ”How do you know? Is He going to say Yes?”

”I think so.” Bernard's voice and touch were alike motherly. ”But you must be patient a little longer, my princess of the bluebell. It isn't good for us to have things straight off when we want them.”

”You do want me?” insinuated Tessa, squeezing his neck very hard.

”Yes. I want you very much,” he said.

”I love you,” said Tessa with pa.s.sionate warmth, ”better--yes, better now than even Uncle Everard. And I didn't think I ever could do that.”

”G.o.d bless you, little one!” he said.

Later, when Major Ralston had seen her again, they had another conference. The doctor's suspicions were fully justified. Tessa would need the utmost care.

”She shall have it,” Bernard said. ”But--I can't leave Stella now. I shall see my way clearer presently.”

”Quite so,” Ralston agreed. ”My wife shall look after the child at Bhulwana. It will keep her quiet.” He gave Bernard a shrewd look.

”Perhaps you--and Mrs. Monck also--will be on your way Home before the hot weather,” he said. ”In that case she could go with you.”

Bernard was silent. It was impossible to look forward. One thing was certain. He could not desert Stella.

Ralston pa.s.sed on. Being reticent himself he respected a man who could keep his own counsel.

”What about Mrs. Ermsted?” he said. ”When will you see her?”

”To-night,” said Bernard, setting his jaw.

Ralston smiled briefly. That look recalled his brother. ”No time like the present,” he said.

But the time for consultation with Netta Ermsted upon the future of her child was already past. When Bernard, very firm and purposeful, walked down again after dinner that night, Ralston met him with a wry expression and put a crumpled note into his hand.

”Mrs. Ermsted has apparently divined your benevolent intentions,” he said.

Bernard read in silence, with meeting brows.