Part 79 (2/2)

Mrs. Dallas had done that; but the evening pa.s.sed away, nevertheless, without any news of him. They made themselves very comfortable; had an excellent dinner, and went to rest in rooms pleasant and well appointed; but Betty was in a state of feverish excitement which would not let her be a moment at ease. Now she was here, she almost was ready to wish herself back again. How would Pitt look at her? how would he receive her? and yet, what affair was it of his, if his mother brought a young friend with her, to enjoy the journey and make it agreeable? It was nothing to Pitt; and yet, if it _were_ nothing to him, Betty would want to take pa.s.sage in the next packets.h.i.+p sailing for New York or Boston. She drew her breath short, until she could see him.

He came about the middle of the next morning. Mr. Dallas had gone out, and the two ladies were alone, in a high state of expectancy; joyous on one part, most anxious and painful on the other. The first sight of him calmed Betty's heart-beating; at the same time it gave her a great thrill of pain. Pitt was himself so frank and so quiet, she said to herself, there was no occasion for her to fear anything in his thoughts; his greeting of her was entirely cordial and friendly. He was neither surprised nor displeased to see her. At the same time, while this was certainly comforting, Pitt looked too composedly happy for Betty's peace of mind. Apparently he needed neither her nor anybody;--'Do men ever?' said Betty to herself bitterly. And besides, there was in his face and manner a n.o.bleness and a pureness which at one blow drove home, as it were, the impressions of the last year. Such a look she had never seen on any face in her life; _except_--yes, there was one exception, and the thought sent another pang of pain through her. But women do not show what they feel; and Pitt, if he noticed Miss Frere at all, saw nothing but the well-bred quiet which always belonged to Betty's demeanour. He was busy with his mother.

'This is a pleasure, to have you here!' he was saying heartily.

'I thought we should have seen you last night. My letter was in time.

Didn't you get it?'

'It went to my chambers in the Temple; and I was not there.'

'Where were you?'

'At Kensington.'

'At Kensington! With Mr. Strahan.'

'Not with Mr. Strahan,' said Pitt gravely. 'I have been with him a great deal these last weeks. You got my letter in which I told you he was ill?'

'Yes, and that you were nursing him.'

'Then you did _not_ get my letter telling of the end of his illness?

You left home before it arrived.'

'You do not mean that uncle Strahan is dead?'

'It is a month ago, and more. But there is nothing to regret, mother.

He died perfectly happy.'

Mrs. Dallas pa.s.sed over this sentence, which she did not like, and asked abruptly,--

'Then what were you doing at Kensington?'

'There was business. I have been obliged to give some time to it. You will be as much surprised as I was, to learn that my old uncle has left all he had in the world to me.'

'To you!' Mrs. Dallas did not utter a scream of delight, or embrace her son, or do anything that many women would have done in honour of the occasion; but her head took a little loftier set upon her shoulders, and in her cheeks rose a very pretty rosy flush.

'I am not surprised in the least,' she said. 'I do not see how he could have done anything else; but I did not know the old gentleman had so much sense, for all that. Is the property large?'

'Rather large.'

'My dear, I am very glad. That makes you independent at once. I do not know whether I ought to be glad of that; but you would never be led off from any line of conduct you thought fit to enter, by either having or wanting money.'

'I hope not. It is not _high_ praise to say that I am not mercenary.

Who was thinking to bribe me? and to what?'

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