Part 13 (1/2)
At that instant, the solitude was broken by the apparition of a dusty wayfarer in knickerbockers and soft felt hat, coming towards them up the road. He was a man of middle height and rather slim. He appeared about five-and-thirty years of age. He had fair hair, and a strange, whimsical face, irregular of feature, with a small moustache covering the upper lip.
Miss Du Prel looked startled, as she caught sight of the travel-stained figure. She flushed deeply, and her expression changed to one of bewilderment and uncertainty, then to one of incredulous joy. She hastened forward, at length, and arrested the wayfarer.
”Professor Fortescue, don't you remember me?” she cried excitedly.
He gazed at her for a second, and then a look of amazement came into his kind eyes, as he held out his hand.
”Miss Du Prel! This is incredible!”
They stood, with hand locked in hand, staring at one another. ”By what happy misunderstanding am I thus favoured by the G.o.ds?” exclaimed the Professor.
Miss Du Prel explained her presence.
”Prodigious!” cried Professor Fortescue. ”Fate must have some strange plots in the making, unless indeed we fall to the discouraging supposition that she deigns to jest.”
He said that he was on a walking tour, studying the geology of the district, and that he had written to announce his coming to his old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Fullerton, and to ask them to put him up. He supposed that they were expecting him.
Miss Du Prel was greatly excited. It was so long since they had met, and it was so delightful to meet again. She had a hundred enquiries to make about common friends, and about the Professor's own doings.
She forgot Temperley's name, and her introduction was vague. The Professor held out his hand cordially. Temperley was not allowed to feel an intrusive third. This was in consequence of the new-comer's kindliness of manner, and not at all because of Miss Du Prel, who had forgotten Temperley's elegant existence. She had a look of surprise when he joined in the conversation.
”I can scarcely believe that it is ten years since I was here,” cried the Professor, pausing to look over a gate at the stretch of country.
”I used to visit my friends at Dunaghee every autumn, and now if some one were to a.s.sure me that I had been to sleep and dreamt a ten years'
dream, I should be disposed to credit it. Every detail the same; the very cattle, the very birds--surely just those identical sparrows used to fly before me along the hedgerows, in the good old times, ten years ago! Ah! yes, it is only the human element that changes.”
”One is often so thankful for a change in that,” Temperley remarked, with an urbane sort of cynicism.
”True,” said Miss Du Prel; ”but what is so discouraging is that so often the charm goes, like the bloom of a peach, and only the qualities that one regrets remain and prosper.”
”I think people improve with time, as often as they fall off,” said the Professor.
The others shook their heads.
”To him that hath shall be given, but to him that hath not----” The Professor smiled a little sadly, in quoting the significant words.
”Well, well,” he said, turning to Miss Du Prel, ”I can't say how happy I am to see you again. I have not yet got over my surprise. And so you have made the acquaintance of the family at Dunaghee. I have the warmest respect and affection for those dear folks. Mrs. Fullerton has the qualities of a heroine, kind hostess as she is! And of what fine Scottish stuff the old man is made--and a mind like crystal! What arguments we used to have in that old study of his! I can see him now.
And how genial! A man could never forget it, who had once received his welcome.”
Such was Miss Du Prel's impression, when ten minutes later the meeting took place between the Professor and his old friend.
It would indeed have been hard to be anything but genial to the Professor. Hadria remembered him and his kindness to her and the rest of the children, in the old days; the stories he used to tell when he took them for walks, stories full of natural lore more marvellous than any fairy tale, though he could tell fairy tales too, by the dozen. He had seemed to them like some wonderful and benevolent magician, and they adored him, one and all. And what friends he used to be with Ruffian, the brown retriever, and with every living creature on the place!
The tennis-party began to break up, shortly after the Professor's arrival. Temperley lingered to the last.
”Is that a son of the celebrated Judge Temperley?” asked one of the bystanders.
”His eldest son,” answered Mr. Gordon; ”a man who ought to make his mark, for he has splendid chances and good ability.”
”I have scarcely had a word with you, the whole afternoon,” Temperley said to Hadria, who had sunk upon a seat, tired with making herself agreeable, as she observed.