Part 15 (2/2)

It is doubtless the law of life to get, more or less quickly, according to one's nature, accustomed to everything. In about six weeks I, who had lived so quietly with Aunt Penelope, had settled down to my new existence. I was spoken of as Lady Helen's daughter, and invariably addressed as Miss Dalrymple. I was dressed according to Lady Helen's wishes, and I was taken here, there, and everywhere. What I did notice, however, was that although Lady Helen, my father, and I went to numerous concerts, and although Lady Helen had her box at the opera, and took a box frequently at the theatres, and although we often dined at the Savoy, and the Carlton, and the Ritz hotels, and on all these occasions my gallant-looking father accompanied us, yet when we went into so-called Society he was hardly ever present. I asked Lady Helen the reason one day. I said to her:

”It is so dull without father. Why doesn't he come with us?”

On this occasion she frowned and looked anxious; then she said:

”Oh, we shall manage it, probably, by next year; we must not be too eager. People forget very quickly, and we must not expect too much this year, but next year doubtless things will be all right.”

”But what can there be to forget?” I said.

”Nothing, nothing at all,” she replied. ”Don't be so inquisitive, child.”

Meanwhile, I will own that I was having a good time--that is, if admiration, expressed and unexpressed, could give it to me. Lady Helen was proud of me when she saw people flocking round me and when she observed that the nicest men asked me to dance, and the ladies whose houses she was most anxious to get invited to sent me also invitations.

She made a fuss over me, and petted me according to her lights. So I was happy in a kind of fas.h.i.+on, although, to tell the truth, there were times over and again when I felt very like a prisoner--a prisoner in a gilt cage.

One day something rather peculiar occurred. I did not think much of it at the time, although I was destined to give it several thoughts later on. Lady Helen received a letter amongst many others, which she opened shortly after breakfast. Father was in the room. He was leaning back in a big chair, and was reading _The Times_. I noticed that father always turned to the army news first in reading any paper; he was looking at the army news at that moment. He was intensely interested about everything to do with the army; and that I could scarcely wonder at, seeing that he himself was a Major in His Majesty's service.

Lady Helen opened her letter, turned a little white, and flung it across the table to father.

”There!” she said. ”What are we to do now?”

Father took up the letter and read it slowly. His face did not look exactly white, but a very peculiar mottled sort of colour spread slowly over his cheeks, and his eyes became fierce and wild. As a rule, he was quick and eager in his movements, but now he rose up deliberately, stamped his foot, and crossing the room, put the letter into a small fire which was burning in the grate.

”Gordon, why have you done that?” said Lady Helen.

”Because your brother will not enter this house,” was his reply.

”Ah, poor fellow!” she exclaimed. ”And am I never to see him? I must see him--I _will_! Child, go out of the room.”

”No, child, you are to stay here,” said my father. He swept his arm round my waist, and drew me down to sit close to him. I could feel that he was trembling all over. Lady Helen got up.

”Heather, I wish you to leave the room.”

”Darling father, come to me presently to my own room,” I whispered. ”Do, please--what--mother wishes--now.”

I brought out the words with an effort.

”You are a plucky girl, my darling,” he said, kissing me. ”Well, then, go--I will come to you by and by.”

I was glad to escape. I ran up to my room, and sank down into an easy-chair. Morris, who constantly walked out with me in the morning, came in to know if she was to do anything, but I sent her away. I took up a book, I tried to read, I put it down again; I could not fix my attention on anything. Oh, never, never before had I seen father's eyes blaze with such fire, and never before had I seen Lady Helen at once angry and cowed. What were they saying to each other now? Until that moment I had not guessed that Lady Helen had a brother. Who was he, and why could not he come? Why should father be so angry? Why should father have burnt his letter? Why did father tremble from head to foot, and try to keep me in the room? Ah! I heard his step on the stairs. I ran to my door and flung it open.

”Daddy, daddy, come in!” I said.

He strode towards me; in a minute he was in the room, and had clasped me to his heart.

”Upon my word, little woman,” he said, ”upon my word, I have gone through a pretty scene!”

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