Nell, of Shorne Mills Part 28

"I met Mr. Vernon on the moor, away from the village. I will make some toast. He is coming up presently. He is going to stay at the Brownies'--this is my best hat. Do be careful!"

For d.i.c.k, in his joy, had fallen against her in the pa.s.sage and nearly knocked her hat off; then he seized her by the arm, and, fixing her with a gaze of exaggerated keenness, demanded in melodramatic tones, but too low for Mrs. Lorton to hear:

"What means this sudden and strange return of the interesting stranger?

Speak, girl! Attempt not to deceive; subterfuge will not avail ye! Say, what means this unexpected appearance? Ah! why that crimson blush which stains your nose----"

Nell broke from him--half ashamedly, for was she, indeed, blus.h.i.+ng?--and ran to make the toast, and d.i.c.k went to the gate to watch for Drake.

Drake found the Brownies expecting him, and was shown the tiny sitting room and bedroom they had hastily prepared; and, his luggage having arrived, he had a wash and a change.

And as he dried himself on the lavender-scented towel, he invented an excuse for his return. He was filled with a strange gladness; the surge of the waves as they beat against the jetty sang a welcome to him; he could hear the fishermen calling to each other, as they cleaned their boats, or whistling as they sat on the jetty spreading their nets to dry; it was more like coming back to his birthplace, or some spot in which he had lived for years, than to the little seaside village which he had seen for the first time a few weeks ago.

As he went up slowly to The Cottage, every man, woman, and child he met touched his hat or curtsied and smiled a welcome to him, and d.i.c.k's "Hallo, Mr. Vernon! then it is you, and Nell wasn't spoofing us. How are you? Come in!" went straight to his heart.

He went in with his hand on the boy's shoulder, and was received by Mrs.

Lorton with a mixture of stately dignity and simpering pleasure, which, however, no longer roused his irritation and impatience.

"I am quite sure you will not be comfortable at the Brownies', Mr.

Vernon," she said; "and I need not say that we shall be glad if you are not. Your room awaits you whenever you feel inclined to return to it--Richard, tell Eleanor that we are ready for the tea. And how did you leave London, Mr. Vernon? I am aware that it is not the season; but there are always some good families remaining in town," et cetera.

Drake answered with as fair an imitation of interest as he could manage; then Nell came in, followed by Molly, with the tea. There was no longer any sign of a blush on the girl's face, but the gray eyes were still bright, and a smile--such a tender, joyous, sunny smile--lurked in ambush at the corners of her sweet lips. She did not look at him, and was quite busy with the teacups and saucers; but she listened to every word he said, as if every word were too precious to miss.

"I was obliged to come down--the horses, you know," he said, as if that fully explained his return; "and, to tell you the truth, my dear Mrs.

Lorton, I was very glad of the excuse. London is particularly hateful just now; though, as you say, there are a good many people there still."

"Did you meet my cousin Wolfer?" asked Mrs. Lorton.

Drake expressed his regret at not having done so.

"I think you would like him," she said, with her head on one side, and with a long sigh. "It is years since I have seen him. When last we met----"

"'He wore a wreath of roses!'" murmured d.i.c.k, under his breath.

--"And no doubt he would find me much changed; one ages in these out-of-the-way places, where the stir and bustle of the great world never reaches one."

"Mamma dropping into poetry is too touching!" murmured d.i.c.k; then aloud: "Nell, my child, if you are going to have a fit you had better leave the room. This is the second time you have shot out your long legs and kicked me. You had better see Doctor Spence."

The boy's badinage, Nell's half-shy delight, filled Drake with joy; even Mrs. Lorton's folly only amused him. He leaned back and drank his tea and ate his toast--he knew that Nell had made it, and every morsel was sweet to him--with a feeling of happiness too deep for words. And yet there was anxiety mixed with his happiness. Was the delight only that which would arise in the heart of a young girl, a child, at the visit of a friend?

"Shall we go down and look at the boat?" he asked, after he had dutifully listened to some more of Mrs. Lorton's remarks on fas.h.i.+on and n.o.bility.

"Right you are!" said d.i.c.k; "and if you will promise to behave yourself like a decent member of society, you shall come too, Nell. You won't mind my bringing my little sister, sir?"

Drake smiled, but the smile died away as they walked down to the jetty; he could have dispensed with the presence of Nell's little brother.

"We might go for a short sail, mightn't we?" he said, as they stood looking at the boat. "Pity you didn't bring your gun, d.i.c.k!"

"Oh, I can fetch it!" said d.i.c.k promptly. "I shan't be ten minutes."

Drake waved to Brownie to bring the _Annie Laurie_ to the steps, and helped Nell into the boat; then ran up the sail, and pushed off.

"Aren't we going to wait for d.i.c.k?" said Nell innocently.

"Oh, we'll just cruise about till he comes," said Drake. "Let me take the tiller."

He steered the boat for the bay, and lit his pipe. It was just as if he had not left Shorne Mills; and, as he looked around at the multicolored cliffs, the sky dyed by the setting sun with vivid hues of crimson and yellow, and at Nell's lovely and happy face, he thought of the world in which he had moved last night; and its hollowness and falsity, its restless pursuit of pleasure, its selfish interests appalled him. He had resolved, or only half resolved, perhaps, last night, that he would "cut it"--leave it forever. Why shouldn't he? Why should he go back?

Even before he had met Nell, he had been utterly weary of the old life; and, even if he had still hankered after it, it was now not possible for him. It was very improbable that he would inherit the t.i.tle and estates; he had quarreled with his uncle; he had learned the bitter truth, that the women of his set were incapable of a disinterested love. And he had desired to be loved for himself alone. Does not every man desire it?

Why should he not remain as "Drake Vernon," without t.i.tle or fortune? If he won a woman's love, it would be for himself, not for the rank he could bestow----

"There is d.i.c.k!" said Nell.

Drake awoke from his reverie.

"Scarcely worth while going back for him, is it?" he said. "Besides, he'll want to shoot something--and these gulls look so happy and contented----"

"Why, you told him to get his gun!" she said, with surprise. "But it doesn't matter. He's going out in w.i.l.l.y's boat, I see. I suppose he thinks we shan't turn back for him. Isn't it lovely this evening?"

"Yes," he a.s.sented absently.

If--if Nell, now, for instance, were to--to promise to be his wife, he would be sure that it was for himself she cared! She did not know that he was anything other than just Mr. Drake Vernon. No carking doubts of the truth and purity of her love would ever embitter his happiness.

"Where are we going?" she asked, turning on her elbow as he steered for the cove where they had lunched the other day.

"I've a fancy to look into that cave," he said. "What a capital place it would be for a picnic! Shall we go ash.o.r.e for a few minutes?"

He threw out the anchor, leaped to the sh.o.r.e, and pulled the boat in for her. She prepared to jump, as usual, but as she stood, her slight figure poised on the gunwale, he took her in his arms and lifted her out.

Her face went crimson for an instant, but she turned aside, and walked up the beach, and by the time he had overtaken her the crimson had gone; but the grip of his arms had set her tingling, and her heart was beating fast; and yet it was so foolish to--to mind; for had not Brownie and w.i.l.l.y, and half the fishermen of Shorne Mills, lifted her out of a boat when the sea was rough and the boat unsteady?

"Let us sit down," Drake said.

There was a big bowlder just within the cave, and Nell seated herself on it, and he slid down at her side.

"If d.i.c.k is angry, you will have to protect me," she said, breaking the silence which seemed to oppress her with a sense of dread.

"I will; especially as it was my fault," he said. "I didn't want d.i.c.k--for a wonder. I wanted to be--alone--with you again. I have wanted it every minute since I left you. Do you know why?"

She had grown pale; but she tried to smile, to meet the ardent gaze of his eyes; but she could not.

"Hadn't--hadn't we better be going back?" she faltered; "it is growing late."

But her voice was so low that she wondered whether she had spoken aloud.

"I want to tell you that I have missed you, how I have longed for you,"

he went on, not speaking with the fluency for which some of his men friends envied him, but brokenly, as if the words were all inadequate to express his meaning. "All the way up to London I thought of you--I could not help thinking of you. All the time I was there, whether I was alone or in the midst of a mob of people, I thought of you. I could see your face, hear your voice. I could not rest day or night. I felt that I must come back to you; that there would be no peace or contentment for me unless I could see you, hear you, be near you."