Part 23 (1/2)

”And your husband will be waiting,” put in Raby.

”Poor Hugh, of course he will,” returned Fay quickly. ”Erle, I am afraid you will have to carry me to the carriage, unless you ask George to do so;” but Erle stoutly refused to deliver up his charge, so Fay bade good-bye to her new friends.

”Thank you so much, Miss Ferrers,” she said, putting up her face to be kissed. ”I shall tell Hugh how good you have been to me. I am so sorry it is good-bye, Mr. Ferrers.”

”Then we will not say it at all,” he returned, heartily, as his big hand seemed to swallow up Fay's little soft fingers. ”I will wish you G.o.d-speed instead, Lady Redmond. I dare say your cousin, Mr.

Huntingdon, will be good enough to let us know how you are if he ever pa.s.ses the Grange.”

”To be sure I will,” was Erle's reply to this, and then he deposited Fay in her corner of the carriage and took his place beside her. Both of them leaned forward for a parting look at the brother and sister as they stood together in the porch.

”What a grand-looking pair they are,” observed Erle, as they turned into the road; ”don't you think Miss Ferrers is a very handsome woman, Fay? I admire her immensely.”

”Oh, yes, she is perfectly lovely,” replied Fay, enthusiastically; ”she looks so sweet and good; it quite rests one to look at her. But there is something sad about them both. Mr. Ferrers does not look quite happy; once or twice he sighed quite heavily when we were talking. I suppose his being blind troubles him.”

”He is a very uncommon sort of man,” returned Erle, who had been much struck by the brother and sister. ”He made himself very pleasant to me while you were having your foot doctored. By the bye, my Fairy Queen,”--his pet name for her--”Miss Dora gave me a message for you: she says she shall come up and see you to-morrow, as you will be a prisoner.”

”That will be nice; but oh, Erle, what a pity we shall have no more delightful walks together. I hope Hugh was not really vexed about our going to the Grange.”

”He was just a trifle testy,” remarked Erle, quietly suppressing the fact that his cousin had surprised him much by a fit of regular bad temper. ”He thinks I am not to be trusted with your ladys.h.i.+p any more;” and he changed the subject by a lively eulogium on the young ladies at the vicarage, one of whom he declared to be almost as handsome as Miss Selby; and he kept up such a flow of conversation on this topic that Fay had no opportunity to put another question.

Sir Hugh was waiting for them at the Hall door, but Fay thought he looked very grave and pale as he came to the carriage to lift her out.

”This is a very foolish business,” he said, as he carried her up to her room, his strong arms hardly conscious of her weight; ”how did it happen, Fay?” and she knew at once by his tone that he was much displeased.

”Erle ought to have taken better care of you; I told him so,” he continued, as he placed her on the couch. ”I can not let you go running about the country with him like this; of course the lanes were slippery, he ought to have known that.”

”You are vexed with me, Hugh,” she said, very gently. ”You think that I ought not to have gone to the Grange, but indeed I could not help myself.”

”There were other houses,” he stammered, not caring to meet her clear look. ”I thought that you would have respected my wishes, but I see I am mistaken.”

”Oh, Hugh,” returned the poor child, quite heart-broken at this stern rebuke; ”indeed, indeed, I never meant to disobey you, but my foot was so painful, and I felt so faint, and Erle was so peremptory with me.”

”Well, well, you need not cry about it,” observed her husband impatiently; ”you are such a child, Fay, one can never say a word to you; I have a right to be displeased, if my wife goes against my wishes.”

”I am very sorry,” she answered, meekly, trying to keep back those troublesome tears; ”please do not be so angry, Hugh, you know I care for nothing but to please you, and--and I don't feel quite well, and your voice is so loud.”

”Very well, then, I will take myself off,” in rather a huffy tone, but he relented at the sight of her pale little face, and some of his bad humor evaporated. ”The fact is, you are such a child that you don't know how to take care of yourself,” he continued, sitting down by her, and letting her rest comfortably against him. ”You will do yourself a mischief some day, Fay. I shall get Doctor Martin to come up and see your foot, and then, perhaps, he will give you a lecture.”

”Oh, no,” she returned, charmed at this change of tone, for his anger had frightened her; ”there is no need for that, dear, it is only a sprained ankle, and Miss Ferrers has bandaged it so beautifully, a day or two's rest will put it all right.”

”But all the same, I should like to have Doctor Martin's opinion,” he answered, quickly. ”I am afraid you must have found it very awkward, Fay, being cast on the compa.s.sion of strangers.”

”Oh, no, indeed,” was the eager answer; ”they were so good and kind to me, Hugh; they welcomed me just as though I were an old friend. I was a little faint at first, my foot hurt me so; but when I opened my eyes, I found myself in such a lovely old room, on such an easy couch, and Miss Ferrers gave me some wine, and actually bathed my foot and bound it up herself.”

”What sort of a room was it, Wee Wifie?”

Fay thought there was something odd in her husband's voice, but she had her head on his shoulder, and could not see his face, the winter dusk was creeping over the room, and only the fire-light illumined it.

Hugh felt himself safe to put that question, but he could not quite control his voice.