Greatheart by Ethel May Dell (android based ebook reader TXT) 📖

she shrank again at that. "Oh no! Not possibly! Not possibly!
You—you're laughing!" She looked at him accusingly.

He caught her to him. "You baby! You innocent! Yes, I'm going to kiss you. Where will you have it? Just anywhere?"

He held her and kissed her, still laughing, yet with a heat that made her flinch involuntarily; kissed the pointed chin and quivering lips, the swift-shut eyes and soft cheeks, the little, trembling dimple that came and went.

"Yes, you are mine—all mine," he said. "Remember, I have a right to you now that no one else has. Not all the mammas in the world could come between us now."

She laughed, half-exultantly, half-dubiously, peeping at him through her lowered lashes. "I wonder if you'll still say that when—when you've seen—my mother," she murmured.

He kissed her again, kissed anew the dimples that showed and vanished so alluringly. "You will see presently, my Daphne," he said. "But I'm going to have you, you know. That's quite understood, isn't it?"

"Yes," whispered Dinah, with docility.

"No more running away," he insisted. "That's past and done with."

She gave him a fleeting smile. "I couldn't if—if I wanted to."

"I'm glad you realize that," he said.

She clung to him suddenly with a little movement that was almost convulsive. "Oh, are you sure—quite sure—that you wouldn't rather marry Rose de Vigne?"

He uttered his careless laugh. "My dear child, there are plenty of Roses in the world. There is only one—Daphne—Daphne, the fleet of foot—Daphne, the enchantress!"

She clung to him a little faster. "And there is only one Apollo," she murmured. "Apollo the magnificent!"

"We seem to be quite a unique couple," laughed Eustace, with his lips upon her hair.

CHAPTER XXX THE SECOND SUMMONS

When they went down the hill again to the hotel, Dinah felt as if she were treading on air. The whole world had magically changed for her. Fears still lurked in the background, such fears as she did not dare to turn and contemplate; but she herself had stepped into such a blaze of sunshine that she felt literally bathed from head to foot in the glow.

Her dread of returning to the old home-life had dwindled to a mere shadow. Sir Eustace's absolute confidence on the subject of his desirability as a husband had accomplished this. There would be paens of rejoicing, he told her, and she had actually begun to think that he spoke the truth. She was quite convinced that her mother would be pleased. It was Cinderella and the prince indeed. Who could be otherwise?

Her escapade of the night before had also shrunk to a matter of small importance. Eustace in his grand, easy way had justified her, and she was no longer tormented by the thought of the mute reproach she would encounter in Scott's eyes. She was triumphantly vindicated, and no one would dream of reproaching her now. Isabel too—surely Isabel would be glad, would welcome her as a sister, though the realization of this nearness of relationship made her blush in sheer horror at her presumption.

She to be Lady Studley! She—little, insignificant, moneyless Dinah! The thought of Rose's soft patronage flashed through her brain, and she chuckled aloud. Poor dear Rose, waiting for him at the Court, expecting every day to hear of his promised advent! What a shock for them all! Why, she would rank with the County now! Even Lady Grace would scarcely be in a position to patronize her! Again, quite involuntarily, she chuckled.

"What's the joke?" demanded Sir Eustace.

She blushed very deeply, realizing that she had allowed her thoughts to run away with her.

"There isn't a joke really," she told him. "It wasn't important anyhow. I was only thinking how—how surprised the de Vignes would be."

He frowned momentarily; then he laughed. "Proud of your conquest, eh?" he asked.

She blushed still more deeply. "It's easy to laugh now, but I shall never dare to face them," she murmured.

He took her hand as they walked, linking his fingers in hers with a careless air of possession. "When you are Lady Studley," he said, "I shall not allow you to knock under to anyone—except your husband."

She gave a faint laugh. "I—shall have to learn to swagger," she said.
"But I'm afraid I shall never do it as well as you do."

"What? Swagger?" He frowned again. "How dare you accuse me of that?"

"Oh, I didn't! I don't!" Hastily she sought to avert his displeasure. "No, no! I only meant that you were born to it. I'm not. I—I'm very ordinary; not nearly good enough for you."

His frown melted again. "You are—Daphne," he said. "Ah! Here is Scott, coming to look for us! Who is going to break the news to him?"

She made a small, ineffectual attempt to release her hand. Then, under her breath, "He—saw you kiss me last night," she whispered. "Don't you think he may have guessed already?"

A very cynical look came into Eustace's face. "I wonder," he said briefly.

They went on side by side down the white, shining track; but Dinah was no longer treading on air. She could see the slight, insignificant figure that awaited them close to the hotel-entrance, and her heart felt oddly weighted within her. It was not the memory of the night before that oppressed her. That episode had faded almost into nothingness. But the ordeal of facing him, of telling him of the wonderful thing that had just happened to her, seemed suddenly more than she could bear. Something within her seemed to cry out against it. She had a curious feeling of looking out at him across great billows of seething uncertainty that rolled ever higher and higher between them, threatening to separate them for all time.

Yet when she neared him, the tumult of feeling sank again as the quietness of his presence reached her. Out of the tempest she found herself drifting into a safe harbour of still waters.

He moved to meet them, and she heard his voice greet her as he raised his cap. "So you have been for your farewell stroll!"

She did not answer in words, only she freed her hand from Eustace with a resolute little tug and gave it to him.

Eustace spoke, a species of half-veiled insolence in his tone. "Like the psalmist she went forth weeping and has returned bearing her sheaf with her—in the form of a fairly substantial fiancé."

Dinah ventured to cast a lightning-glance at Scott to see how he took the information and was conscious of an instant's shock. He looked so grey, so ill, like a man who had received a deadly wound.

But the impression passed in a flash as she felt his hand close upon hers.

"My dear," he said simply, "I'm awfully pleased."

The warm grasp did her good. It brought her swiftly back to a normal state of mind. She drew a hard breath and met his eyes, reassuring herself in a moment with the conviction that after all he looked quite as usual. Somehow her imagination had tricked her. His kindly smile seemed to make everything right.

"Oh, it is kind of you not to mind," she said impulsively.

Whereat Sir Eustace laughed. "He is rather magnanimous, isn't he? Well, come along and tell Isabel!"

Scott's eyes came swiftly to him. He released Dinah, and offered his hand to his brother. "Let me congratulate you, old chap!" he said, his voice rather low. "I hope you will both have—all happiness."

"Thanks!" said Eustace. He took the hand, looking at the younger man with keen, hawk-eyes. "We mean to make a bid for it anyway. Dinah is lucky in one thing at least. She will have an ideal brother-in-law."

The words were carelessly spoken, but they were not without meaning. Scott flushed slightly; even while for an instant he smiled. "I shall do my best in that capacity," he said. "But before you go in, I want you to wait a moment. Isabel has had a slight fainting attack. We mustn't take her by surprise."

"A fainting attack!" Sharply Eustace echoed the words. "How did it happen?" he demanded.

Scott raised his shoulders. "We were talking together. I can't tell you exactly what caused it. It came rather suddenly. Biddy and I brought her round almost immediately, and she declares that she will make the journey. She did not wish me to tell you of it, but I thought it better."

"Of coarse." Sir Eustace's voice was short and stern; his face wore a heavy frown. "But something must have caused it. What were you talking about?"

Scott hesitated for a second. "I can't tell you that, old fellow," he said then.

Eustace uttered a brief laugh. "Too personal, eh? Well, how did it happen? Did she suddenly lose consciousness?"

"She suddenly gasped, and said her heart had stopped. She fell across the table. I called to Biddy, and we lifted her and gave her brandy. That brought her to very quickly. I left her lying down in her room. But she says she feels much better, and she is very set upon leaving the arrangements for the journey unaltered."

Scott spoke rather wearily. Dinah's heart went out to him in swift sympathy which she did not know how to express.

"May I—could I—go to her?" she suggested, after a moment timidly.

Scott turned to her instantly. "Please do! I know she would like to see you. We ought to be starting in another quarter of an hour. The sleigh will be here directly."

"May I do as I like about—about telling her?" Dinah asked, pausing.

Scott's eyes shone with a very kindly gleam. "Of course, I know you will not startle her. You always do her good."

The words followed her as she turned away. How good he was to her! How full of understanding and human sympathy! Her heart throbbed with a warmth that filled her with an odd desire to weep. She wished that Eustace did not treat him quite so arrogantly.

And then, looking back, she reproached herself for the thought; for Eustace had linked a hand in his arm, and she saw that they were walking together in complete accord.

"But I will never—no, never—call him Stumpy!" she said to herself, as she passed into the hotel.

She went up the stairs rapidly, and hastened to Isabel's room. That look she had caught in Scott's face—that stricken look—had doubtless been brought there by his sudden anxiety for his sister. That would fully account for it, she was sure.

On the threshold of Isabel's room an overwhelming nervousness assailed her. How was she going to tell her of the wonderful event that had taken place in the last half-hour? On the other hand, how could she possibly suppress so tremendous a matter? And again, the disquieting question arose; could she be ill—really ill? Scott had looked so troubled—so unutterably sad.

With an effort she summoned her courage, and softly knocked.

Instantly a low voice answered her, bidding her enter. She opened the door and went in, feeling as though she were treading sacred ground.

But Isabel's voice spoke again instantly, greeting her; and in a moment all her doubts, all her forebodings, were gone.

"Come in, little sweetheart!" Isabel said.

And she advanced with quickened steps to find Isabel lying propped on the sofa, looking at her, smiling up at her, with such a glory on her wasted face as made it "as it had been the face of an angel."

In an instant Dinah was on her knees beside her, with loving arms clasping her close. "Oh, darling, I've only just heard. Are you better? Are you better?" she said yearningly.

Isabel held her, and fondly kissed the upturned lips. "Why, I believe Scott has been frightening you," she said. "Silly fellow! Yes, dear. I am well—quite well."

"You are sure?" Dinah insisted. "You are really not ill?"

Isabel's smile had in it—had she but known it—a gleam of the Divine. "My dearest, all is well with me," she said. "I lay down for a little to please Scott. But I am going to get up now. Where have you been since dèjeuner? I missed you."

Dinah clung closer, hiding her face.

Instantly Isabel's arms tightened. The passionate tenderness of them thrilled her through and through. "Why, child, what has happened?" she whispered. "Tell me! Tell me!"

But Dinah only hid her face a little deeper. "I don't know how," she murmured.

There fell a silence. Then, under her breath, Isabel spoke. "My darling, whisper—just whisper! Who—is it?"

And very, very faintly, at last Dinah