Part 48 (1/2)
”Her voice is the sweetest _I_ ever heard,”--replied Helmsley--”But then I'm not much of a judge.”
And his thoughts went roving back to certain entertainments in London which he had given for the benefit of his wealthy friends, when he had paid as much as five or six hundred guineas in fees to famous opera singers, that they might shriek or warble, as their respective talents dictated, to crowds of indifferent loungers in his rooms, who cared no more for music than they did for religion. He almost smiled as he recalled those nights, and contrasted them with this New Year's evening, when seated in an humble cottage, he had for his companions only a lowly-born poor woman, and an equally lowly-born poor man, both of whom evinced finer education, better manners, greater pride of spirit, and more resolute independence than nine-tenths of the ”society” people who had fawned upon him and flattered him, simply because they knew he was a millionaire. And the charm of his present position was that these two, poor, lowly-born people were under the impression that even in their poverty and humility they were better off than he was, and that because fortune had been, as they considered, kind to them, they were bound to treat him in a way that should not remind him of his dependent and defenceless condition. It was impossible to imagine greater satisfaction than that which he enjoyed in the contemplation of his own actual situation as compared with that which he had impressed upon the minds of these two friends of his who had given him their friends.h.i.+p trustingly and frankly for himself alone. And he listened placidly, with folded hands and half shut eyes, while Angus, at Mary's request, trolled forth ”The Standard on the Braes o' Mar” and ”Sound the pibroch,”--varying those warlike ditties with ”Jock o' Hazledean,” and ”Will ye no come back again,”--till all suddenly Mary rose from her chair, and with her finger to her lips said ”Hark!” The church-bells were ringing out the Old Year, and glancing at the clock, they saw it wanted but ten minutes to midnight. Softly Mary stepped to the cottage door and opened it. The chime swung melodiously in, and Angus Reay went to the threshold, and stood beside Mary, listening. Had they glanced back that instant they would have seen Helmsley looking at them both, with an intensity of yearning in his pale face and sad old eyes that was pitiful and earnest beyond all expression--they would have seen his lips move, as he murmured--”G.o.d grant that I may make their lives beautiful! G.o.d give me this peace of mind before I die! G.o.d bless them!” But they were absorbed in listening--and presently with a deep clang the bells ceased. Mary turned her head.
”The Old Year's out, David!”
Then she went to him and knelt down beside him.
”It's been a kind old year!”--she said--”It brought you to me to take care of, and _me_ to you to take care of you--didn't it?”
He laid one hand on hers, tremblingly, but was silent. She turned up her kind, sweet face to his.
”You're not tired, are you?”
He shook his head.
”No, my dear, no!”
A rush and a clang of melody swept suddenly through the open door--the bells had begun again.
”A Happy New Year, Miss Mary!” said Angus, looking towards her from where he stood on the threshold--”And to you, David!”
With an irrepressible movement of tenderness Helmsley raised his trembling hands and laid them gently on Mary's head.
”Take an old man's blessing, my dear!” he said, softly, ”And from a most grateful heart!”
She caught his hands as he lifted them again from her brow, and kissed them. There were tears in her eyes, but she brushed them quickly away.
”You talk just like father!” she said, smiling--”He was always grateful for nothing!”
And rising from her kneeling att.i.tude by Helmsley's chair, she went again towards the open cottage door, holding out her two hands to Reay.
Looking at her as she approached he seemed to see in her some gracious angel, advancing with all the best possibilities of life for him in her sole power and gift.
”A Happy New Year, Mr. Reay! And success to the book!”
He clasped the hands she extended.
”If you wish success for it, success is bound to come!” he answered in a low voice--”I believe in your good influence!”
She looked at him, and whatever answer rose to her lips was suddenly silenced by the eloquence of his eyes. She coloured hotly, and then grew very pale. They both stood on the threshold of the open door, silent and strangely embarra.s.sed, while the bells swung and clanged musically through the frosty air, and the long low swish of the sea swept up like a harmonious ba.s.s set to the silvery voice of the chimes. They little guessed with what pa.s.sionate hope, yearning, and affection, Helmsley watched them standing there!--they little knew that on them the last ambition of his life was set!--and that any discovery of sham or falsehood in their natures would make cruel havoc of his dearest dreams!
They waited, looking out on the dark quiet s.p.a.ce, and listening to the rush of the stream till the clamour of the bells ceased again, and sounded no more. In the deep stillness that followed Angus said softly--
”There's not a leaf left on the old sweetbriar bush now!”
”No,”--answered Mary, in the same soft tone--”But it will be the first thing to bud with the spring.”
”I've kept the little sprig you gave me,”--he added, apparently by way of a casual after-thought.
”Have you?”