Part 28 (1/2)

”Come, come, Mrs. Macdonald! you have been as good as a mother to me; I thought you would be the first to wish me good luck,” Paul said.

”It's not that, sir! it's not that at all, that I'm thinking; but plain people like John and me could noways manage for a pretty lady like Miss Webster,” she said.

Paul sat down and laughed. ”So that's it. Well! I had not thought of bringing my wife here to live. Happy as you have made me, it would be a little small for her. I suppose we shall go to the Court, and I could turn my rooms here into a workman's club, couldn't I? And we could keep a bedroom for any of Miss Sally's girls who want a change.”

After which Mrs. Macdonald recovered her spirits, and offered her congratulations with Scotch sincerity.

”She's bonny, sir! she's very bonny! But my John will say that there's not another lady in the world like our Miss Sally. His heart is set on her, that it is! And when will be the wedding, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

”To-morrow, if I had _my_ way. Six weeks hence, as I have to wait Miss Webster's pleasure; and, I believe, in the years to come, she will rival Miss Sally in your affections.”

”Maybe, sir,” replied Mrs. Macdonald, cautiously.

More than two years had pa.s.sed; and on a sunny day in June, Rose Lancaster was once again making her way across the bowling-green at the Court towards the rose-garden, bent upon the same quest as on the summer morning, which seemed such a long time ago, when Tom Burney had first declared his love for her. It was said in the village that Rose had lost her looks, and certainly the indefinable first blush of youth had faded; but if Rose's face had lost its delicacy of colouring, it had gained infinitely in expression. The blue eyes were soft and wistful, the pretty lips had lost their trick of pouting, the head was poised less saucily; trouble had taught Rose lessons which had left a lasting impression upon her character. She had been retained in Mrs.

Lessing's service; nor ever showed any desire to quit it, until such time as Tom was ready to come home and fetch her. But oh! how long it seemed to wait. He had hinted, a month or two back, at the possibility of his being sent over to England upon his master's business; but in the letter which followed immediately after, no mention had been made of the subject, so Rose feared that the happy chance was not to come yet, since which time there had been silence--the longest silence that had occurred since Tom had left. Whether the rose-garden unconsciously brought back her lover to her mind it is impossible to say, but as Rose snipped the buds there were tears in her eyes with the simple longing for news of her absent lover. She chose all white roses to-day, for the newly-arrived baby-girl at the Court was to be baptized, and Mr.

Curzon was coming to take the service; and Rose had planned that she would slip off quietly to the church and put a wreath of white roses round the font. It was a business that must be carried through with secrecy and despatch, as presently her mistress would want her to help her to dress: she was far from strong yet. A straying bramble caught her gown and held it fast, and with an impatient little cry she stooped down to disentangle it, when, to her astonishment, a great brown hand from behind closed upon hers, and a strong arm was slipped round her waist, and a voice, that set her trembling from head to foot, exclaimed--

”Rose, Rose, my beauty! what luck to find you, the first minute I've come, like this! I was just making my way up the drive, and caught sight of something s.h.i.+ning through the trees; and if it wasn't your head s.h.i.+ning all yellow in the sun the same as when I left it! And I crept up behind you, and caught you crying over a thorn, I do believe.”

Needless to say it was Tom Burney who was the speaker, a broader, bigger Tom than Rose remembered: a handsome, strong fellow that any girl might be proud of as a lover, who spoke half in jest to hide the fact that tears were not far from his own eyes. He held her so tightly clasped to his breast, that it was some few minutes before Rose could either speak or get a good look at her lover.

”Oh, Tom, you've taken the life out of me; you've given me such a start!” she said when she could speak. ”How brown and big you are!--but you're worth the waiting for. Oh dear, how glad I am you've come!” And then Rose began to sob helplessly, and needed a deal of comforting, which Tom was not slow to offer. ”There!” said Rose, at last, pus.h.i.+ng him from her, and showing him her dimples for the first time, ”you are wasting all my time; but you can come down to the church, if you like, and help me to put the roses on the font.”

”What for?” asked Tom, unsympathetically, preferring the privacy of the rose-garden.

”For little Miss Kitty as is to be; that's the new baby at the Court.

And nothing will satisfy Mr. Lessing but that she shall be named after the one that's gone. Mr. Curzon is coming to baptize her.”

”Is he?” cried Tom, eagerly. ”I'll come, then, and wait all day for a sight of him, the best friend I've ever had, Rose, my darling. Shall I ask him to tie up you and me?”

”Oh!” cried Rose, blus.h.i.+ng rosy red, ”I had not thought of that yet, Tom.”

”Time you did,” said Tom. ”I must start back again in a month, and I'm not going without you.”

”Oh no,” said Rose. ”It seems to come sudden at the last, but I've waited so long that I'll come when you like. I've not looked at another man since you went away.”

Tom caught her again and kissed her. ”And there was plenty to look at you, I'll bet.”

”Yes, plenty,” Rose admitted, with a dash of her old coquetry.

Then hand in hand, like two happy children, they walked down the lane to the church; and Tom stood and handed the flowers, which Rose's deft fingers arranged round the font. And all that miserable past seemed blotted out, and a future of perfect happiness seemed opening out before them. Just as their task was finished, and they stood side by side admiring their handiwork, the church door was softly pushed open, and Mr. Curzon entered. Real joy flashed into his face as he recognized Tom Burney, and saw that Rose was with him; but the words of greeting were very simple.

”So you've come home, Tom?” he said, as he heartily grasped his hand.

”For a bit, sir--just for a week or two.”

”And you will take out Rose with you, I expect?” with a kindly smile at the pretty, downcast head.