Ranching for Sylvia Part 59

For all that, I think you'll get a shock if Edgar brings her home."

"That is not George's opinion. We wrote to him."

Sylvia laughed.

"He would believe in anybody who looked innocent and pretty."

Ethel's expression hardened; Sylvia had not been considerate.

"I don't think that's true. He's generous, and though he has made mistakes, it was only because his confidence was misled with a highly finished skill. One wouldn't look for the same ability in a girl brought up in a primitive western town."

"After all," said Sylvia tranquilly, "she is a girl, and no doubt Edgar is worth powder and shot from her point of view."

"It doesn't seem to be a commercial one," Ethel retorted. "Stephen had a very straightforward letter from this storekeeper. But I'm inclined to think I had better go on with my writing."

Sylvia moved away. She had no reason for being gracious to Ethel, and she took some pleasure in irritating her.

In a few minutes Bland came in. The hall was large, and Ethel was hidden from him in the recess. He strode toward Sylvia eagerly, but she checked him with a gesture.

"You have come back early," she said. "Wasn't the sport good? What has become of Kettering and the others?"

The man looked a little surprised. This was hardly the greeting he had expected, after having been promised a quiet half-hour with Sylvia; but, looking round, he saw the skirt of Ethel's dress and understood.

Had it been George she wished to warn, she would have used different means; but Bland, she was thankful, was not hypercritical.

"The sport was poor," he told her. "The pheasants aren't very strong yet, and it was hard to drive them out of the covers. As I'd only a light water-proof, I got rather wet outside the last wood and I left the others. Kettering wanted to see the keeper about to-morrow's beat, but I didn't wait."

"Since you have been in the rain all day, you had better have some tea," said Sylvia. "They'll bring it here, if you ring."

He followed her to a small table across the hall, and after a tray had been set before them they sat talking in low voices. Presently Bland laid his hand on Sylvia's arm.

"You know why I came down," he said. "I must go back to-morrow and I want the announcement made before I leave."

Sylvia blushed and lowered her eyes.

"Oh, well," she conceded, "you have really been very patient, and perhaps it would be hardly fair to make you wait any longer."

Bland took her hand and held it fast.

"You are worth waiting for! But there were times when it was very hard not to rebel. I'd have done so, only I was afraid."

"You did rebel."

"Not to much purpose. Though no one would suspect it from your looks, you're a very determined person, Sylvia. Now I don't know how to express my feelings; I want to do something dramatic, even if it's absurd, and I can't even speak aloud. Couldn't you have got rid of Miss West by some means?"

"How could I tell what you wished to say?" Sylvia asked with a shy smile. "Besides, Ethel wouldn't go. She stuck there in the most determined fashion!"

"Then we'll have to disregard her. It must be early next year, Sylvia.

I'll see Lansing to-morrow."

He continued in a quietly exultant strain, and Sylvia felt relieved that her fate was decided. She had some time ago led him to believe she would marry him; but she had, with vague misgivings and prompted by half-understood reasons, put off a definite engagement. Now she had given her pledge, and though she thought of George with faint regret, she was on the whole conscious of satisfaction. Bland, she believed, had a good deal to offer her which she could not have enjoyed with his rival.

Presently a servant brought Ethel something on a salver, and a few moments later she approached the other two with a telegram in her hand.

"I thought I had better tell you, Sylvia," she explained. "Stephen has just got a letter from Edgar, written a day or two before he sailed.

He should arrive on Sat.u.r.day, and George is with him."

Sylvia had not expected this and she was off her guard. She started, and sat looking at Ethel incredulously, with something like consternation.

"It's quite true," said Ethel bluntly. "He'll be here in three more days."

Then Sylvia recovered her composure.

"In that case, I'll have to let Muriel know at once; he'll go straight there, and she's staying with Lucy. Perhaps I had better telegraph."

She rose and left them; and Bland sought Mrs. Kettering and acquainted her of his engagement, and begged her to make it known, which she promised to do. He failed to find Sylvia until she was coming down to dinner, when she beckoned him.

"Have you told Susan yet?" she asked.

"Yes," Bland beamed; "I told her at once. I should have liked to go about proclaiming the delightful news!"

Sylvia looked disturbed; Bland could almost have fancied she was angry.

As a matter of fact, troubled thoughts were flying through her mind.

It was obvious that she would shortly be called upon to face a crisis.

"After all," she said, with an air of resignation which struck him as out of place, "I suppose you had to do so; but you lost no time."

"Not a moment!" he a.s.sured her. "I felt I couldn't neglect anything that brought you nearer to me."

Then they went on, and meeting the other guests in the hall, Sylvia acknowledged the shower of congratulations with a smiling face. She escaped after dinner, however, without a sign to Bland, and did not reappear. During the evening, he found Ethel West sitting alone in a quiet nook.

"Mrs. Marston seemed a little disturbed at the news you gave her," he remarked.

"So I thought," said Ethel.

"I suppose the George you mentioned is her trustee, who went to Canada and took your brother? You once told me something about him."

"Yes," said Ethel. "You seem to have the gift of arriving at correct conclusions."

"He's an elderly man--a business man of his cousin's stamp--I presume?"

Ethel laughed.

"Oh, no; they're of very different type. I should imagine that he's younger than you are. He was at Herbert's one afternoon when you called."

"Ah!" said Bland. "I shall, no doubt, get to know him when next I come down."

Then he talked about other matters until he left her, and after a while he found Kettering alone.

"Did you ever meet George Lansing?" he asked.