Nurse Elisia Part 9

"Yes, but your father's a regular typhoon. I say, though, wouldn't it be premature?"

"Of course not."

"You would go--really?"

"If I cared for the lady, certainly," said Neil, laughing at the combination of frank, manly daring and shrinking bashfulness before him.

"It is not capital punishment if you fail."

"No," said Beck thoughtfully, "it isn't. I've no cause to be afraid, have I?"

"Not a bit."

"Then hang it all, I will the first moment I can get your father alone."

"Bravo, brave man!" cried Neil merrily.

"Ah, it's all very well for you to laugh, old fellow. You don't know how bad it is. But I say, Neil, you wouldn't mind, would you?"

"My dear Tom," said Neil, clapping him warmly on the shoulder, "it seems to me something like sacrilege for a man to come here to the old home, and to want to rob us of my darling, innocent little sister; but if it is to be I do not know a man to whom I would sooner see her given than you."

"Thank you," cried the young sailor warmly, and his voice sounding a little husky from the emotion he felt. "Thank you, Neil, old fellow, you seem more than ever like a big brother to me now."

"Here is my father," said Neil, quickly. "Wait your opportunity, and get it over."

For at that instant Mr Elthorne appeared at the door, looking the _beau-ideal_ of a tall, middle-aged country gentleman, with many years of hearty, vigorous life before him.

"Morning, Beck," he cried. "Ah, Neil, my boy, glad to see you down already. Why, you ought to have had a few hours' more rest."

"I'm accustomed to short and broken nights," said the young man, warmly returning the grasp of his father's hand. "How well you look, sir!"

"Sorry I can't return the compliment, my boy. You look, white and careworn. Never mind; we'll soon blow the London smoke out of you. Can you manage a ride after breakfast?"

"Yes, and enjoy it."

"That's right. The Lydon girls are coming over, and we'll mount you on the old cob. By the way, I thought I heard Burwood's voice."

"He is down the garden with Alison," said Neil.

"That's right. I asked him to come over to breakfast. He is going to try my new purchase for me. But it's of no use to talk horseflesh to you. Well, my dear?"

This to Isabel, who came running out, looking very innocent and girlish.

"Good-morning, papa," she cried, kissing him. "I did not know you were down. Good-morning, Mr Beck," she continued shyly, as she let her hand rest in his for a moment, and then turned to her brother to kiss him affectionately. "I'm so glad you've come, dear Neil."

"Let's have breakfast, Isabel. Aunt's not down, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes, papa, and waiting for us."

"Wonderful!" said Mr Elthorne grimly. "Run down the garden, Isabel, and fetch Alison and Sir Cheltnam in to breakfast. Will you have a cup of coffee, Beck?" he continued rather coldly.

"Thank you, sir, I have breakfasted, but--"

"Oh, he can manage another," said Neil laughingly. "Come along, Tom;"

and then to himself: "Poor boy! It will be no, for certain."

Mr Elthorne took no further notice of the young sailor, but laid his hand upon his son's shoulder and pointed to a clump of trees at the farther end of the park.

"I'm going to have those down, Neil."

"Pity, isn't it, sir?"

"No; if it were I should not take them away. They shut off the view in that direction. And I'm going to make an opening out there," he continued, pointing due south. "All improvements for your benefit, sir."

"Say for Alison's, father. I shall never settle down here."

"Humph! No?" said Mr Elthorne, glancing sidewise at his son. "If you go on like this you'll be an old man before I am. I must have a talk to Saxa about you."

Neil looked round sharply.

"Well, what is it?" said Mr Elthorne.

"Nothing, sir, nothing."

"You looked as if I had said something shocking. Look here, Neil, my boy, as you are down at last, suppose you try if you cannot make up a little for lost time. You know what I mean."

"Hus.h.!.+ Beck will hear you," said the young surgeon quickly.

"Let him stand a little farther off, then," said Mr Elthorne peevishly; "but," he continued, in a lower tone of voice, "Saxa feels hurt; I know she does. She tries to carry it off by being boisterous and merry, but she is piqued by your coldness."

"You still foster that idea, then, sir?"

"Foster? That idea? Of course, sir; and I should like to see you display a little more warmth respecting the carrying out of your father's wishes. There, I'm not going to scold now you have come down; but just keep my last letter in mind. A bright, pretty young wife with two thousand a year and more to come later on, is not to be sneered at, my boy, and you must not quite bury yourself in London over your hospital work."

He turned sharply.

"Really, Beck," he cried, "I'm afraid I have behaved very rudely to you."

"Very, sir," thought the young man. "Don't mention it, sir," he said aloud.

"Let's see: you are coming with us this morning?"

"I think you asked me to come, Mr Elthorne," said Beck quietly.

"To be sure--of course--I am very forgetful. Come in--come in. Oh, by the way, would you mind telling your father that I cannot accede to his request. I think I have done quite enough for those people, and they must now s.h.i.+ft for themselves. One wants to be charitable, but even charity has its limits. Come, you folks, breakfast, breakfast," he cried cheerily, as Sir Cheltnam and Alison came up with Isabel.

"Poor Beck is right," thought Neil, as he saw his father's particularly cordial greeting of the baronet. "It is time to speak. But too late, I fear, after all."

"Ah, Neil, my dear," cried Aunt Anne, kissing him affectionately. "I'm so glad to see you home again. I hope you slept comfortably. And how is poor Maria?"