Lover or Friend Part 41

'I wish he would come back,' she said softly; for she felt a strange sort of longing to see his kind face again. She must write to him; she must tell him everything, just as though he were her brother. 'Mother,'

interrupting herself, 'I want to tell you something very pretty that Cyril said yesterday. I was talking of you and father, and he said I must not be hurt, but he had fallen in love with you first. He thinks you the sweetest woman he has ever seen.'

'Dear fellow!' murmured Mrs. Ross; for the little compliment pleased her.

With all her loyalty to Geraldine's husband, there were times when he was a little formidable to her. Perhaps, in her secret heart, she felt herself too young to be the mother-in-law of a man of forty; and, in spite of Mr. Harcourt's real liking and respect for his wife's mother, he had never been guided by her. It had not been with him, as with younger men, to say, 'Your mother thinks so-and-so should be done.'

Indeed, if the truth be told, Geraldine very rarely quoted her mother's opinions--she was so certain that Percival would contradict them.

'We are surely able to make up our own minds without consulting your parents, my dear,' he would say, in rather a crushing tone; for prosperity had fed his self-confidence, and it needed the discipline of trouble to teach him humility.

At that moment Dr. Ross entered the room, and at the first sight of his face Audrey sprang up, and he opened his arms to receive her.

'Oh, daddy, is it all right?'

'Well, it is as far right as it can be,' he replied, in rather an inexplicable voice. 'Emmie, my dear, this girl of ours has taken the bit between her teeth. Geraldine never gave us this trouble. She fell in love with the right man at the right time, and everything was arranged properly.'

'And now the right man has fallen in love with me,' whispered Audrey in her father's ear.

'But you have given your consent, John?' returned his wife, in a pleading tone. In spite of her fears about Geraldine, her sympathies were by this time enlisted on the side of the lovers. 'Of course, Mr.

Blake is a poor man; but I daresay Dr. Charrington will push him when he knows how things are; and he is so nice and pleasant and clever, and dear Audrey really loves him.'

'Are you sure of that?' trying to catch a glimpse of his daughter's face. 'Girls make mistakes sometimes.' And then, as a faint protest reached him: 'Well, you will find the fellow in my study, if you want to talk to him. Perhaps you had better bring him in to see your mother.'

And Audrey withdrew, blushing like a rose.

'She is very fond of him, John,' observed Mrs. Ross, with a trace of anxiety in her tone, as though her husband's manner did not quite satisfy her. 'She has been talking to me for the last hour. Audrey never cared for anyone before. You remember young Silverdale and Fred Langton--they were both in love with her, and would have spoken if she had given them the chance; but she was as distant as possible.'

'Yes; and Fred Langton has fifteen hundred a year, and his father is a Member of Parliament. He is a nice fellow, too--only a little too stout for so young a man; but he is not the sort Audrey would fancy. Blake is a good fellow, and I liked him from the first,' continued the Doctor, in a musing tone; 'but I never should have picked him out for Audrey.'

'Perhaps you think him too young?' hazarded his wife.

'Yes; I should have liked her to have married an older man. They are too much of an age, and Audrey, with all her good-nature, has a will of her own. Blake is by no means a weak man; on the contrary, I should say he is strong; but he will have to give in to her.'

'Oh, I hope not!' for Mrs. Ross held the old-fashioned doctrines of wifely submission and obedience.

'They will not find it out for a little; but, if I am not mistaken, Blake will discover in time that he is somewhat handicapped. The girl has too much on her side: there is her position, her little bit of money, and her equality as regards age. Blake will have to steer his way prudently, or he will find himself among shoals.'

Mrs. Ross looked distressed; her husband's opinion was infallible to her. It never occurred to her that he might be occasionally wrong in his premises.

'Percival and Geraldine will be dreadfully shocked,' she replied. 'I quite dread the effect on Geraldine.'

Then Dr. Ross's mood changed.

'It is no business of hers, or of Harcourt's either,' he said, rather sharply. 'If Audrey has her parents' consent, she need not trouble herself about other people's opinions.'

Then Mrs. Ross knew that, whatever stormy discussion might be in store for her, she must not expect her husband to come to her a.s.sistance. He had more than once hinted that his son-in-law took rather too much upon himself, and on one occasion he had gone so far as to say that it was a pity Geraldine had married a man so much older than herself.

'Harcourt is a clever fellow, but he plays the autocrat rather too much.

A man has a right to be master in his own house, but Woodcote is not Hillside.' And this speech had alarmed Mrs. Ross dreadfully.

'I wish your father cared for Percival as much as he does for Michael,'

she said once a little plaintively to Audrey. 'Nothing Michael says or does is ever wrong in his eyes.'

'But there could not be two Michaels, mother,' returned Audrey; 'and really, Percival does lay down the law far too much. I don't wonder father was a little put out, for of course he is the older man.'

Meanwhile, the lovers were enjoying themselves after their own fashion.

When Audrey entered the study, Cyril was standing in the bay-window with his back towards the door; but at the sound of her footstep he turned round quickly and crossed the room. As he took her hands he looked at her for a moment without speaking, and she saw at once that he was deeply moved. Then he put his arm round her very gently and kissed her.

Somehow that silent caress touched Audrey, it was so much more eloquent than words; and when he did speak, his speech was very grateful to her ears.

'Your father has been so good to me.'

'Yes, I know. I told you yesterday how good he would be.'

'Ah, but I had a rather bad time of it at first,' he replied, shaking his head. 'Do you see that chair?' pointing to the high-backed oaken chair that always occupied the corner by the writing-table. 'Dr. Ross sat there, and I stood leaning against the mantelpiece, just opposite to him.'

'Do you mean that father did not ask you to sit down?'

'Oh no; he more than once pressed me to take a seat; but I felt it would be unbecoming for a culprit not to stand before his judge. I felt such a culprit, you see. When a man steals another man's dearest possession without asking his leave, he must regard himself as a sort of traitor.'

Audrey smiled; but as Cyril drew her gently down beside him on the wide cushioned window-seat, she made a faint protest.

'I think mother will be looking for us,' she said a little shyly.

'But not just now,' he pleaded. 'You will stay with me for a few minutes, will you not, darling? I could not talk to you before your mother, and I want to tell you what Dr. Ross said. In spite of my presumption, he has treated me most generously; but, Audrey,' half whispering her name, as though it thrilled him to say it, 'he says that he will not spare you to me for at least two years.'

'Oh no, of course not; I could not leave father and mother for a long, long time,' returned Audrey, somewhat troubled by this allusion to her marriage. It was one thing to be engaged and to make Cyril happy, but to be married was a far more serious consideration. 'If I had been asked, I should have said at least three years,' she added quickly.

For one instant the young lover felt himself wounded, but his good sense enabled him to hide this from her.

'You are right, dearest,' he said quietly. 'It would be mere selfishness for me to wish to take you away from this beautiful home until I have made one that shall in some degree be fitting for you. You will not expect a grand one; you know you have linked your lot to a poor man.'

'Of course I know it,' she replied calmly; 'you need not trouble about that, Cyril. I think I am different from other girls: I have never cared for wealth or luxury in the least. Woodcote is my home, and I love every stone of it; but I could be just as happy in a cottage.'

'If it were like the Gray Cottage, for example?'

'Oh, I have always been fond of the Gray Cottage!' she returned, smiling at him; and the look of those sweet gray eyes made the young man's pulses beat faster. 'I should be perfectly satisfied with a home like that. Why,' as he interrupted her with a rapturous expression of grat.i.tude, 'did you think I should be hard to please? I am not a fine lady, like Geraldine!'

'You are the finest lady in the world to me!' was Cyril's answer. It took all his self-control to sit there, just holding her hand and listening to her. He felt as though in his joy he could have been guilty of any extravagance--as though he ought to be kneeling before her, his lady of delight, pouring out his very soul in a tumultuous, incoherent stream of words. But it spoke well for his knowledge of Audrey's character that he restrained himself so utterly: any such pa.s.sionate love-making would have disturbed her serenity and destroyed her ease in his society; her inborn love of freedom, and a certain coyness that was natural to her, would have revolted against such wooing. Cyril had his reward for his unselfish forbearance when he saw how quietly she rested against his arm, how willingly she left her hand in his, as she talked to him in her frank, guileless way.

'I suppose your mother is pleased about this?' she said presently.

'You would have said so if you had heard us talking last night, until one o'clock in the morning! You have made more than one person happy, dear; my mother will be your debtor for life.'

'I wonder she is not a little jealous of me,' returned Audrey. 'She has had you so long to herself, I should think she would find me a little in her way.'

'Oh no! she is too grateful to you for making me happy. My darling, it would cause me utter misery if you and my mother did not get on. I have been her one thought all these years; it is not right, of course,' as Audrey's eyes expressed disapproval at this. 'I have had more than my fair share; but I am only stating facts from her point of view. If you had refused me--if we had gone away--she would have broken her heart; as it is, she is ready to worship you for your goodness to me.'

'You must take me to her by and by,' returned Audrey gently; 'but now, Cyril, indeed we must go to my mother;' and this time he made no objection.