Heriot's Choice Part 63

Roy shook his head, but there was no time to answer or to draw back into the shelter of the old wall; they were even now perceived. Light footsteps crunched over the dead leaves, there was the s.h.i.+mmer of a blue dress, a bright face peeped at them between the branches, and then with a low cry of astonishment Polly sprang down the bank.

'Be brave, Rex, and think only of her.'

Mildred had no time to whisper more, as the girl ran up to them and caught hold of Roy's two hands with an exclamation of pleasure.

'Dear Roy, this is so good of you, and on my birthday too. Was Aunt Milly in your secret? did she contrive this delightful surprise? I shall scold you both presently, but not now. Come, they are all waiting; how they will enjoy the fun,' and she was actually trying to drag him with gentle force, but the poor lad resisted her efforts.

'I can't--don't ask me, Polly; please let me go. There, I did not mean to hurt your soft, pretty hand, but you must not detain me. Aunt Milly will tell you; at least there is nothing to tell, only I must go away again,' finished Roy, turning away, not daring to look at her, the muscles of his face quivering with uncontrollable emotion.

Polly gave a terrified glance at both; even Aunt Milly looked strangely guilty, she thought.

'Yes, let him go, Polly,' pleaded Mildred.

'What does it all mean, Aunt Milly? is he ill, or has something happened? Why does he not look at me?' cried the girl, in a pained voice.

Roy cast an appealing glance at Mildred to help him; the poor fellow's strength was failing under the unexpected ordeal, but Mildred's urgent whisper, 'Go by all means, leave her to me,' reached Polly's quick ear.

'Why do you tell him to go?' she returned resentfully, interposing herself between them. 'You shall not go, Roy, till you have looked at me and told me what has happened. Why, his hand is cold and shaking, just as yours did that hot night, Aunt Milly,' and Polly held it in both hers in her simple affectionate way. 'Have you been ill, Roy? no one has told us;' but her lips quivered as though she had found him greatly changed.

'Yes--no; I believe I must be ill;' but Mildred, truthful woman, interposed--

'He has not been ill, Polly, but something has occurred to vex him, and he is not quite himself just now. He has told Richard and me, and we think the best thing will be for him to go away a little while until the difficulty lessens.' Mildred was approaching dangerously near the truth, but she knew how hard it would be for Polly's childish mind to grasp it, unless Roy were weak enough to betray himself. His working features, his strange incoherence, had already terrified the girl beyond measure.

'What difficulty, Aunt Milly? If Roy is in trouble we must help him to bear it. It was wrong of you and Richard to tell him to go away. He looks ill enough for us to nurse and take care of him. Rex, dear, you will come home with us, will you not?'

'No, she says right; I must go,' he returned, hoa.r.s.ely. 'I was wrong to come here at all, but I could not help myself. Dear Polly, indeed--indeed I must; d.i.c.k is waiting for me.'

'And when will you come again?'

'I cannot tell--not yet.'

'And you will go away; you will leave me on my birthday without a kind word, without wis.h.i.+ng me joy? and you never even wrote to me.' And now the tears seemed ready to come.

'This is past man's endurance,' groaned Roy. 'Polly, if you cared for me you would not torture me like this.' And he turned so deadly pale that even Mildred grew alarmed. 'I will say anything you like if you will only let me go.'

'Tell me you are glad, that you are pleased; you know what I mean,'

stammered Polly. She had hung her head, and the strange paleness and excitement were lost on her, as well as the fierce light that had come in Roy's eyes.

'For shame, Polly! after all, you are just like other women--I believe you like to test your power. So I am to wish you joy of your John Heriot, eh?'

'Yes, Rex. I have so missed your congratulation.'

'Well, you shall have it now. How do people wish each other joy on these auspicious occasions? We are not sister and brother--not even cousins. I have never kissed you in my life, Polly--never once; but now I suppose I may.' He s.n.a.t.c.hed her to him as he spoke with an impetuous, almost violent movement, but as he stooped his head over her he suddenly drew back. 'No, you are Heriot's now, Polly--we will shake hands.' And as she looked up at him, scared and sorely perplexed, his lips touched her bright hair, softly, reverently. 'There, he will not object to that.

Bless you, Polly! Don't forget me--don't forget your old friend Roy. Now I must go, dear.' And as she still held him half unconsciously, he quickly disengaged himself and limped painfully away.

Mildred watched till he had disappeared, and then she came up to the girl, who was standing looking after him with blank, wide-open eyes.

'Come, Polly, they will be waiting for us, you know.' But there was no sign of response.

'They will be seeking us everywhere,' continued Mildred. 'The sun has set, and my brother will be faint and tired with his long day. Come, Polly, rouse yourself; we shall have need of all our wits.'

'What did he mean?--I do not understand, Aunt Milly. Why was it wrong for him to kiss me?--Richard did. What made him so strange? He frightened me; he was not like Roy at all.'

'People are not like themselves when something is troubling them. I know all about Roy's difficulty; it will not always hara.s.s him. Perhaps he will write to us, and then we shall feel happier.'

'Why did he not tell me himself?' returned the girl, plaintively. 'No one has ever come between us before. Roy tells me everything; I know all his fancies, only they never come to anything. It is very hard that I am to be less to him now.'

'It is the way of the world, little one,' returned Mildred, gravely.

'Roy cannot expect to monopolise you, now that another has a claim on your time and thoughts.'

'But Dr. Heriot would not mind. You do not know him, Aunt Milly. He is so good, so above all that sort of thing. He always said that he thought our friends.h.i.+p for each other so unique and beautiful--he understood me so well when I said Roy was just like my own, own brother.'

'Dear Polly, you must not fret if Roy does not see it in quite the same light at first,' continued Mildred, hesitating. 'He may feel--I do not say he does--as though he has lost a friend.'

'I will write and undeceive him,' she returned, eagerly. 'He shall not think that for a moment. But no, that will not explain all his sorrowful looks and strangeness. He seemed as though he wanted to speak, and yet he shunned me. Oh, Aunt Milly, what shall I do? How can I be happy and at ease now I know Roy is in trouble?'

'Polly, you must listen to me,' returned Mildred, taking her hand firmly, but secretly at her wits' end; even now she could hear voices calling to them from the farther side of the glen. 'This little complication--this difficulty of Roy's--demands all our tact. Roy will not like the others to know he has been here.'

'No! Are you sure of that, Aunt Milly?' fixing her large dark eyes on Mildred.

'Quite sure--he told me so himself; so we must guard his confidence, you and I. I must make some excuse for Richard, who will be back presently; and you must help me to amuse the others, and make time pa.s.s till he comes back.'

'Will he be long gone? What is he doing with Roy?' pus.h.i.+ng back her hair with strangely restless fingers--a trick of Polly's when in trouble or perplexity; but Mildred smoothed the thick wild locks reprovingly.

'He will drive him for a mile or two until they meet some vehicle; he will not be longer than he can help. Roy has hurt his foot, and cannot walk well, and is tired besides.'

'Tired! he looks worn out; but perhaps we had better not talk any more now, Aunt Milly,' continued Polly, brus.h.i.+ng some furtive tears from her eyes; 'there is Dr. Heriot coming to find us.'

'We were just going to scour the woods for you two,' he observed, eyeing their discomposed faces, half comically and half anxiously. 'Were you still looking for Leonard-du-Bray?' But as Polly faltered and turned crimson under his scrutinising glance, Mildred answered for her.

'Polly was looking for me, I believe. We have been sad truants, I know, and shall be punished by cold tea.'

'And Richard--have you not seen Richard?' he demanded in surprise.

'Yes, but he left me before Polly made her appearance; he has gone farther on, and will be back presently. Polly is dreadfully tired, I am afraid,' she continued, as she saw how anxiously he was eyeing the girl's varying colour; but Polly, weary and over-anxious, answered with unwonted irritability--

'Every one is tired, more or less; these days are apt to become stupid in the end.'

'Well, well,' he returned, kindly, 'you and Aunt Milly shall rest and have your tea, and I will walk up to the farm and order the wagonette; it is time for us to be going.'

'No, no!' exclaimed Polly, in sudden fright at the mistake she had made.

'Have you forgotten your promise to show us the glen in the moonlight?'

'But, my child, you are so tired.' But she interrupted him.

'I am not tired at all,' she said, contradicting herself. 'Aunt Milly, make him keep his promise. One can only have one birthday in a year, and I must have my own way in this.'

'I shall take care you have it very seldom,' he returned, fondly. But she only s.h.i.+vered and averted her face in reply.