Part 35 (1/2)
She let him go, and crossing the room to a window, she watched him stride down the drive with a swift, determined gait. He might be tried severely, but there was little fear of this man's resolution deserting him. She was, however, troubled by a recurrence of the unpleasant sense of guilt when he disappeared; it was difficult to persuade herself that she had been quite honest, and the difficulty was new to her.
In the meanwhile Lisle walked on rapidly, disregarding the ache that the motion started in his injured arm and shoulder. In his dejected mood, the twinge at every step was something of a welcome distraction. Since a sacrifice must be made, it should, he resolved, be made by him; Millicent should not suffer, though he admitted that he had no reason for supposing that she would have been willing to do so. She had never shown him more than confidence and friendliness, and it was only during the past few weeks that he had ventured to think of the possibility of winning her.
Even then, the thought had roused no excess of ardent pa.s.sion; much as he desired her, a strong respect and steadfast affection were more in keeping with his temperament. Nevertheless, had he known that she loved him and he could confer benefits upon her in place of demanding a sacrifice, he would have been strangely hard to deter.
On his return, Nasmyth met him at the door.
”Where have you been?” he asked with some indignation.
”To Mrs. Gladwyne's,” Lisle informed him.
”You walked to the house, after what Irvine said when you insisted on his taking the bandages off?”
”I took them off; he only protested. Anyway, I didn't break my leg.”
Nasmyth noticed his gloomy expression.
”Well,” he responded, ”I suppose there was very little use in warning you to keep quiet; but you look as if you had suffered for your rashness.”
”That's true,” answered the Canadian with a grim smile. ”After all, it's what usually happens, isn't it?”
They went in, Nasmyth a little puzzled by his companion's manner; but Lisle offered no explanation of its cause.
CHAPTER XXI
THE LAST AFTERNOON
It was a bright day when Lisle took his leave of the Marples. They gave him a friendly farewell and when he turned away Bella Crestwick walked with him down the drive.
”I don't care what they think; I couldn't talk to you while they were all trying to say something nice,” she explained. ”Still, to do them justice, I believe they meant it. We are sorry to part with you.”
”It's soothing to feel that,” Lisle replied. ”In many ways, I'm sorry to go. I've no doubt you'll miss your brother after to-morrow.”
”Yes,” she said with unusual seriousness. ”More than once during the last two years I felt that it would be a relief to let somebody else have the responsibility of looking after him, but now that the time has come I'm sorry he's going. I can't help remembering how often I lost my temper, and the mistakes I made.”
”You stuck to your task,” commended Lisle. ”I dare say it was a hard one, almost beyond you now and then.”
He knew that he was not exaggerating. She was only a year older than the wilful lad, who must at times have driven her to despair. Yet she had never faltered in her efforts to restrain and control him; and had made a greater sacrifice for his sake than Lisle suspected, though in the light of a subsequent revelation of Gladwyne's character she was thankful for this.
”Well,” she replied, ”I suppose that one misses a load one has grown used to, and I feel very downcast. It's hardly fair to pa.s.s Jim on to you--but I can trust you to take care of him.”
”You can trust the work and the country,” Lisle corrected her with a trace of grimness. ”He's not going out to be idle, as he'll discover.
There's nothing like short commons and steady toil for taming any one.
You'll see the effect of my prescription when I send him back again.”
”He has physical pluck. I'm glad to remember it; and he has shown signs of steadying since he found Gladwyne out.”
Lisle looked at her searchingly.