Greatheart by Ethel May Dell (classic books for 12 year olds .txt) 📖

well enough to come home as soon as possible, so as not to be a burden to these kind friends of hers longer than she need.
Lady Grace's kiss was chilly and perfunctory. "I also hope you will get well quickly, Dinah," she said, "as I believe Mr. Studley and his sister are staying on mainly on your account. Sir Eustace, I understand, is returning very shortly, and I have asked him to join our house-party."
"Good-bye, dear!" murmured Rose, bending her smiling lips to kiss Dinah's forehead. "I am sorry your good time has had such a tragic end. I was hoping that you might be allowed to come to the Hunt Ball, but I am afraid that is out of the question now. Sir Eustace will be sorry too. He says you are such an excellent little dancer."
"Good-bye!" said Dinah, swallowing her tears.
She wept unrestrainedly when Billy bade her a bluff and friendly farewell, and he was practically driven from the room by Isabel; who then returned to her charge, gathered her close in her arms, and sat with her so, rocking her gently till gradually her agitation subsided.
"Do forgive me!" Dinah murmured at last, clinging round her neck.
To which Isabel made answer in that low voice of hers that so throbbed with tenderness whenever she spoke to her. "Dear child, there is nothing to forgive. You are tired and worn out. I know just how you feel. But never mind--never mind! Forget it all!"
"I know I am a burden," whispered Dinah, clinging closer.
Isabel's lips pressed her forehead. "My darling," she said, "you are such a burden as I could not bear to be without."
That satisfied Dinah for the time; but it was not the whole of her trouble, and presently, still clasped close to Isabel's heart, she gave hesitating utterance to the rest.
"It would have been--so lovely--to have gone to the Hunt Ball. I should like to dance with--with Sir Eustace again. Is he--is he really going to stay with the de Vignes?"
"I don't know, dear. Very possibly not." Isabel's voice held a hint of constraint though her arms pressed Dinah comfortingly close. "He will please himself when the time comes no doubt."
Dinah did not pursue the subject, but her mind was no longer at rest. She wondered how she could have forgotten Sir Eustace for so long, and now that she remembered him she was all on fire with the longing to see him again. Rose had spoken so possessively, so confidently, of him, as though--almost as though--he had become her own peculiar property during the long dark days in which Dinah had been wandering in another world.
Something in Dinah hotly and fiercely resented this attitude. She yearned to know if it were by any means justified. She could not, would not, believe that he had suffered himself to fall like other men a victim to Rose's wiles. He was so different from all others, so superbly far above all those other captives. And had she not heard him laugh and call Rose machine-made?
A great restlessness began to possess her. She felt she must know what had been happening during her absence from the field. She must know if Rose had succeeded in adding yet another to her long list of devoted admirers. She felt that if this were so, she could never, never forgive her. But it was not possible. She was sure--she was sure it was not possible.
Sir Eustace was not the man to grovel at any woman's feet. She recalled the arrogance of his demeanour even in his moments of greatest tenderness. She recalled the magnetic force of his personality, his overwhelming mastery. She recalled the strong holding of his arms, thrilled yet again to the burning intensity of his kisses.
No, no! He had never stooped to become one of Rose's adorers. If he had ever flirted with her, he had done it out of boredom. She was beautiful--ah yes, Rose was beautiful; but Dinah was quite convinced she had no brains. And Eustace would never seriously consider a woman without brains.
Seriously! But then had he ever taken her into his serious consideration either? Had he not rather been at pains to make her understand that what had passed between them was no more than a game to which no serious consequences were attached? She had caught his fancy, his passing fancy, and now was not her turn over? Had he not laughed and gone his way?
She chafed terribly at the thought, and ever the longing to see him again grew within her till she did not know how to hide it from those about her.
In the evening her temperature rose, and the doctor was dissatisfied with her. She passed a restless night, and was considerably weaker in the morning.
"There is something on her mind," the doctor said to Isabel. "See if you can find out what it is!"
But it was Scott who succeeded with the utmost gentleness in discovering the trouble. He came in late in the morning and sat down beside her for a few minutes.
"I have been writing letters for my brother," he said in his quiet way, "or I should have called for news of you sooner. Isabel tells me you have had a bad night."
Dinah's face was flushed and her eyes very bright. "I heard the dance-music in the distance," she said nervously. "It--it made me want to go and dance."
"I am sorry it disturbed you," he said gently. "It was only that then? You weren't really troubled about anything?"
She hesitated, then, meeting the kindness of his look, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She turned her head away in silence.
He leaned towards her. "Is there anything you want?" he said. "Tell me what it is! I will get it for you if it is humanly possible."
"I know--I know!" faltered Dinah, and hid her face in the pillow.
He waited a moment or two, then laid a very gentle hand upon her dark head. "Don't cry, little one!" he said softly. "Tell me what it is!"
"I can't," murmured Dinah.
"You wanted to go and dance," said Scott sympathetically. "Was it just that?"
"Not--just--that!" she whispered forlornly.
"I thought not. You were wanting something more than that. What was it?"
She tried not to tell him. She would have given almost all she had to keep silence on the subject; but somehow she had to speak. Under the pressure of that kind hand, she could not maintain her silence any longer.
"I was thinking of--of your brother," she told him with tears. "I was wondering if--if he were dancing, and--and I not there!"
It was out at last, and she hid her face in overwhelming shame because she had given him a glimpse of her secret heart which none had ever seen before. She wondered with anguish what he thought of her, if she had forfeited his good opinion of her for ever, if indeed he would ever speak to her with kindness again.
And then very quietly he did speak, and in a moment all her anxiety was gone. "He may have been dancing," he said. "But I believe he has been very bored ever since the weather broke. I wonder if he might come and see you. Would it be too much for you? Should you mind?"
"Mind!" Dinah's tears were gone in a flash. She turned shining eyes upon him. "But would he come?" she said, with sudden misgiving. "Wouldn't that bore him too?"
Scott smiled at her in a way that set her mind wholly at rest. "No, I think not," he said. "When shall he come? This evening?"
Dinah slipped a confiding hand into his. She felt that now Scott knew and was not scandalized, there was no further need for embarrassment. "Oh, just any time," she said. "But hadn't I better get up? It would look better, wouldn't it?"
"I don't know about that," said Scott. "You had better ask the doctor."
Dinah's face flushed red. "Need the doctor know?" she asked him shyly. "I am--so afraid of his saying I am well enough to go home. And that--that will end everything."
"He shan't say that," Scott promised, still smiling in the fashion that so warmed her heart. "I will drop him a hint."
"Oh, you are good!" Dinah said very earnestly. "I think you are the kindest man I have ever met."
He laughed at that. "My dear, it is easy to be kind to you," he said.
"I'm sure I don't know why," she protested. "I'm getting very spoilt and selfish."
He patted her hand gently and laid it down. "You are--just you," he said, and rising with the words rather abruptly he left her.


CHAPTER XXIV
THE LIGHTS OF A CITY

"May I come in?" said Sir Eustace.
He stood in the doorway, a gigantic figure to Dinah's unaccustomed eyes, and looked in upon her with a careless smile on his handsome face.
"Oh, please do!" she said.
She was lying on a couch under a purple rug belonging to Isabel. Very fragile and weak she looked, but her face was flushed and eager, her eyes alight with welcome. She thought he had never looked so splendid, so godlike, as at that moment. She wanted to hold out both her arms to him and be borne upward to Olympus in his embrace.
He came forward with his easy carriage and stood beside her. His smile was one of kindly indulgence. He looked down at her as he might have looked upon an infant.
An uneasy sense of her own insignificance went through Dinah. She could not remember that he had ever regarded her thus before. A faint, faint throb of resentment also pulsed through her. His attitude was so suggestive of the mere casual acquaintance. Surely--surely he had not forgotten!
"Won't you sit down?" she asked in a small voice that was quite unconsciously formal.
He seated himself in the chair that had been placed at her side. "So they have left you behind to be mended, have they?" he said. "I hope it is a satisfactory process, is it?"
She had meant to give him her hand, but as he did not seem to expect it she refrained from doing so. A great longing to cover her face and burst into tears took possession of her; she resisted it frantically, with all her strength.
"Oh yes, I am getting better, thank you," she said, in a voice that quivered in spite of her. "I am afraid I have been a great nuisance to everybody. I am sure the de Vignes thought so; and--and--I expect you do too."
She could not keep the tears from springing to her eyes, strive as she would. He was so different--so different. He might have been a total stranger, sitting there beside her.
Yet as he looked at her, she felt something of the old quick thrill; for the blue eyes regarded her with a slightly warmer interest as he said, "I can't answer for the de Vignes of course, but it doesn't seem to me that either they or I have had much cause for complaint. I shouldn't fret about that if I were you."
She commanded herself with an effort. "I don't. Only it isn't nice to feel a burden to anyone, is it? You wouldn't like it, would you?"
"Oh, I don't know," he said, with his easy arrogance. "I think I should expect to be waited on if I were ill. You've had rather a bad time, I'm afraid. But you haven't missed much. The weather has been villainous."
"I've missed all the dances," said Dinah, stifling a sob.
He began to smile. "I wish I had. I haven't enjoyed one of them."
That comforted her a little. At least Rose