Capricious Caroline Part 31

Knowing nothing definitely, Caroline yet knew enough to a.s.sure herself that the engagement had been forced into existence by that very mental maelstrom of only a few hours before. And already she felt she understood Camilla well enough to be sure that this act, born of expediency, the outcome of intense excitement, would have its aftermath of judgment, perhaps of condemnation.

But for this sense of clinging anxiety about the woman she had learnt to love so dearly the girl would have been so happy.

"I want you to run wild," Mrs. Brenton said to her. "You can always leave the children with me when you want to be alone; they don't bother me in the least."

So on every possible occasion Caroline was out of the house either with the children or without them, and day by day she blossomed out a little more into health and good looks.

"I wonder if you have Irish blood in your veins," Mrs. Brenton asked her on one occasion when they went for a brisk walk together. "Your eyes are distinctly Irish, you know."

Caroline had laughed.

"I may be a Hottentot for all I know about myself. Undoubtedly I must have had some beginning, but what it was I have not the least idea."

Agnes Brenton did not answer at once, and then she said--

"You have never heard from Mrs. Baynhurst?"

The girl shook her head, and then laughed again.

"Oh no, I never expected to. I dare say Mr. Haverford has tried to make her speak, but I shall be very much surprised if he gets anything out of her."

"I am quite sure he will have tried," said Mrs. Brenton warmly.

"Oh!" said Caroline, "he must have so many things to think about just now. I expect he has forgotten all about me."

On Christmas Eve Mrs. Brenton handed over the completion of the decorations to Caroline. People were arriving all day.

Towards the afternoon Betty fell into a state of great consternation.

They had run out of gold and silver paper, and there were any amount of other little things that had been forgotten.

Caroline rose to the occasion.

"Look here, sweetheart, I'll tell you what I will do. I will ask Mrs.

Brenton if I may go and get everything for you."

"You will be gone ages, and ages, and ages, and I want it now," said Betty, who was like her mother in more than one thing. She pleaded to be allowed to go into the town, too, but the wind was much too cold.

Mrs. Brenton fell in quickly with the arrangement, only suggesting that Caroline should drive; but the walk did not frighten the girl.

Indeed, a sense of gladness radiated her as she progressed briskly along the muddy road, and yet perhaps it was inevitable that as she found herself alone, away from the warmth and the cosy atmosphere of the busy household, she should drift into comparisons; that she should awaken to the significance of how really apart she was from these happy elements of home, and family, and festival.

Oddly enough, it was not for herself as she was this day that she felt pity, it was for herself as that little, lonely creature left to pick what sunshine she could out of the bleakest surroundings that her heart ached.

The very pleasantness of her present circ.u.mstances emphasized all she had missed.

Christmas. .h.i.therto had been to her synonymous only with the packing of boxes and the departure of all of her schoolmates. The last winter she had spent in that old schoolhouse had, it is true, been less lonely than most, for two other little children had been left to share her solitude, and she had made gallant efforts at gaiety. She smiled faintly now as she recalled all she had done, but she sighed too.

"Yet we were really and truly happy," she said to herself. "At any rate, it was a hundred times better than last Christmas. Shall I ever forget that dull, long, miserable, foggy day! It seemed as if it would never end. My food sent up as usual to my room, and not a soul to say a kind word! Well, it is a little bit different now!"

The wind swept across the open places. It was so strong and cold that it made her gasp for breath every now and then, but it stung the colour into her cheeks, and made her dark eyes light up into extraordinary beauty.

"If only this could go on for ever," she said to herself; "but somehow I feel so afraid it can't last. She is so sweet, so affectionate"--the "she" was Camilla--"when we are together, but even now I believe she has forgotten my existence."

Indeed, though a daily report of the children's doings was sent to London, Mrs. Lancing had not even scribbled a word to the girl in reply. She wrote to Mrs. Brenton, she telegraphed, she telephoned, and she sent all manner of things to her children, but she showed no signs of remembrance to Caroline.

"And"--then the girl mused--"I am all very well now, but Betty will want a real governess in a little while. It will be very hard to leave them. I almost think," said Caroline, a little unsteadily, "that I was better off when I had no chance of growing very attached to any one. It cannot hurt to part when one does not know how sweet it is to care and to be cared for."

Cheerless and yet grey as the country was in its wintry aspect, it had always a charm and a beauty for Caroline.

Halfway to the town she marked a bush standing high above the hedge, on which cl.u.s.tered some brilliant red berries.

"Those are just what Betty wants," she said to herself. But she deferred picking them till her return.

The afternoon light was beginning to fade as she left the town; she was laden with parcels, her arms were quite full.

She had just pa.s.sed into the long road that led to Yelverton, when a cab overtook her. It was an open fly, and a man sat in it alone, with some luggage piled in front of him.

Caroline just glanced round, and then to her surprise she recognized Rupert Haverford, who quickly stopped the cab as he in his turn recognized her.

"Are you walking?" he asked. "But it is getting quite dark, you will lose your way!"

She laughed.

"Oh, impossible! It is a straight road, one could not go astray."

"Give me some of those things," said Haverford, and he began to unload her arms. "This looks like Christmas." Then he said, "You will let me give you a lift?"

Caroline hesitated a moment, and then said, "Thank you. But I must stop a little way down," she said, "because I want to get some berries for Betty. I will tell you when we get to the place."

As he sat beside her in the cab, Rupert Haverford put a question to her rather eagerly.

"Do you know what train Mrs. Lancing came by?"

"Mrs. Lancing? She had not arrived when I left," Caroline answered. "I think she was expected just before dinner. At least, I heard Mrs.

Brenton arranging that the carriage should go to meet the quick train down from London. I believe she expected that you would come together."

"It was arranged we were to come together," said Haverford. But that was all he said; he began immediately to talk about Caroline herself.

"No doubt you will have been expecting to hear from me, Miss Graniger?"

Caroline said "No," in a quiet way.

He looked at her.

"Surely yes. You must have expected to hear from me?"

"Well," said Caroline frankly, "I thought it possible that you might forget to write, or that you were so annoyed with me you might not care to bother about me any more."

"I was not annoyed with you," said Haverford quickly.