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

But--twice now--I have heard his voice."
"Poor soul! Poor soul!" said Mrs. Bathurst.
It was all the sympathy she could express; but it came from her heart. She no longer regretted her own burst of confidence. The spontaneous answer that it had evoked had had a magically softening effect upon her. In all her life no one had ever charmed her thus. She was astonished herself at the melting of her hardness.
"You've suffered worse than I have," she said, "for I never cared for any man like that. I was let down badly when I was a girl, and I've never had any opinion of any of 'em since. My husband's all right, so far as he goes. But he isn't the sort of man to worship. Precious few of 'em are."
Whereat Isabel laughed, a soft, sad laugh. "That is why worldly position matters so little," she said. "If by chance the right man really comes, nothing else counts. He is just everything."
"Maybe you're right," said Mrs. Bathurst, with gloomy acquiescence. "Anyhow, it isn't for me to say you're wrong."
And this was why when Dinah brought in the tea, she found a wholly new element in the atmosphere, and missed the customary sharp rebuke from her mother's lips when she had to go back for the sugar-tongs.
She had been disappointed that her friend Scott had not been of the party. Isabel's explanation that he had gone home at Eustace's wish to attend to some business had not removed an odd little hurt sense of having been defrauded. She had counted upon seeing Scott that day. It was almost as if he had failed her when she needed him, though why she seemed to need him she could not have said, nor could he possibly have known that she would do so.
Sir Eustace was in her father's den. She was sure that they were getting on very well together from the occasional bursts of laughter with which their conversation was interspersed. They were not apparently sticking exclusively to business. And now that Isabel had won her mother, deeply though she rejoiced over the conquest, she felt a little--a very little--forlorn. They were all talking about her, but if Scott had been there he would have talked to her and made her feel at ease. She could not understand his going, even at his brother's behest. It seemed incredible that he should not want to see her home.
She sat meekly in the background, thinking of him, while she drank her tea; and then, just as she finished, there came the sound of voices at the door, and her father and Sir Eustace came in. They were laughing still. Evidently the result of the interview was satisfactory to both. Sir Eustace greeted his hostess with lofty courtesy, and passed on straight to her side.
She turned and tingled at his approach; he was looking more princely than ever. Instinctively she rose.
"What do you want to get up for?" demanded her mother sharply.
Sir Eustace reached his little trembling _fiancee_, and took the eager hand she stretched to him. His blue eyes flashed their fierce flame over her upturned, quivering face. "Take me into the kitchen--anywhere!" he murmured. "I want you to myself."
She nodded. "Don't you want any tea? All right. Dad doesn't either. I'll clear away."
"No, you don't!" her mother said. "You sit down and behave yourself! You'll clear when I tell you to; not before."
Sir Eustace wheeled round to her, the flame of his look turning to ice. "With your permission, madam," he said with extreme formality, "Dinah and I are going to retire to talk things over."
He had his way. It was obvious that he meant to have it. He motioned to Dinah with an imperious gesture to precede him, and she obeyed, not daring to glance in her mother's direction.
Mrs. Bathurst said no more. Something in Sir Eustace's bearing seemed to quell her. She watched him go with eyes that shone with a hot resentment under drawn brows. It took Isabel's utmost effort to charm her back to a mood less hostile.
As for Dinah, she led her _fiance_ back to her father's den in considerable trepidation. To be compelled to resist her mother's will was a state of affairs that filled her with foreboding.
But the moment she was alone with him she forgot all but the one tremendous fact of his presence, for with the closing of the door he had her in his arms.
She clung to him desperately close, feeling as one struggling in deep waters, caught in a great current that would bear her swiftly, irresistibly,--whither?
He laughed at her trembling with careless amusement. "What, still scared, my brown elf? Where is your old daring? Aren't you allowed to have any spirit at all in this house?"
She answered him incoherently, straining to keep her face hidden out of reach of his upturning hand. "No,--no, it's not that. You don't understand. It's all so new--so strange. Eustace, please--please, don't kiss me yet!"
He laughed again, but he did not press her for the moment. "Your father and I have had no end of a talk," he said. "Do you know what has come of it? Would you like to know?"
"Yes," she murmured shyly.
He was caressing the soft dark ringlets that clustered about her neck.
"About getting married, little sweetheart," he said. "You want to get it over quickly and so do I. There's no reason why we shouldn't in fact. How about the beginning of next month? How about April?"
"Oh, Eustace!" She clung to him closer still; she had no words. But still that sense of being caught, of being borne against her will, possessed her, filling her with dread rather than ecstasy. Whither was she going? Ah, whither?
He went on with his easy self-assurance, speaking as if he held the whole world at his disposal. "We will go South for the honeymoon. I've crowds of things to show you--Rome, Naples, Venice. After that we'll come back and go for that summer trip in the yacht I promised you."
"And Isabel too--and Scott?" asked Dinah, in muffled accents.
He laughed over her head, as at the naive prattling of a child. "What! On our honeymoon? Oh, hardly, I think. I'll see to it that you're not bored. And look here, my elf! I won't have you shy with me any more. Is that understood? I'm not an ogre."
"I think you are--rather," murmured Dinah.
He bent over her, his lips upon her neck. "You--midget! And you think I'm going to devour you? Well, perhaps I shall some day if you go on running away. There's a terrible threat! Now hold up your head, Daphne--Daphne--and let me have that kiss!"
She hesitated a while longer, and then feeling his patience ebbing she lifted her face impulsively to his. "You will be good to me? Promise! Promise!" she pleaded tremulously.
He was laughing still, but his eyes were aflame. "That depends," he declared. "I can't answer for myself when you run away. Come! When are you going to kiss me first? Isn't it time you began?"
She slipped her arms about his neck. Her face was burning. "I will now," she said.
Yet the moment her lips touched his, the old wild fear came upon her. She made a backward movement of shrinking.
He caught her to him. "Daphne!" he said, and kissed her quivering throat.
She did not resist him, but her arms fell apart, and the red blush swiftly died. When he released her, she fell back a step with eyes fast closed, and in a moment her hands went up as though to shield face and neck from the scorching of a furnace.
He watched her, a slight frown drawing his brows. The flame still glittered in his eyes, but his mouth was hard. "Look here, child! Don't be silly!" he said. "If you treat me like a monster, I shall behave like one. I'm made that way."
His voice was curt; it held displeasure. Dinah uncovered her face and looked at him.
"Oh, you're angry!" she said, in tragic accents.
He laughed at that. "About as angry as I could get with a piece of thistledown. But you know, you're not very wise, my Daphne. You've got it in you to madden me, but it's a risky thing to do. Now see here! I've brought you something to make those moss-agate eyes of yours shine. Can you guess what it is?"
His hand was held out to her. She laid her own within it with conscious reluctance. He drew her into the circle of his arm, pressing her to him.
She leaned her head against him with a bewildered sense of self-reproach. "I'm sorry I'm silly, Eustace," she murmured "I expect I'm made that way too. Don't--don't take any notice!"
He touched her forehead lightly with his lips. "You'll get over it, sweetheart," he said. "It won't matter so much after we're married. I can do as I like with you then."
"Oh, I shan't like that," said Dinah quickly.
His arm pressed her closer. "Yes, you will. I'll give you no end of a good time. Now, sweetheart, give me that little hand of yours again! No, the left! There! I wonder if it's small enough. Rather a loose fit, eh? How do you like it?"
He was fitting a ring on to the third finger. Dinah looked and was dazzled. "Oh, Eustace,--diamonds!" she said, in an awed whisper.
"The best I could find," he told her, with princely arrogance. "I hunted through Bond Street for it this morning. Will it do?"
"You went up on purpose? Oh, Eustace!" she laid her cheek with a winning movement against his hand. "You are too good! You are much too good!"
He laughed carelessly. "I'm glad you're satisfied. It's a bond, remember. You must wear it always--till I give you a wedding-ring instead."
She lifted her face and looked at him with shining eyes. "I shall love to wear it," she said. "But I expect I shall have to keep it for best. Mother wouldn't let me wear it always."
"Never mind what your mother says!" he returned. "It's what I say that matters now. We're going to have you to stay at Willowmount in a few days. Isabel is arranging it with your mother now."
"Your home! Oh, how lovely!" Genuine delight was in Dinah's voice. "Scott is there, isn't he?"
He frowned again. "Bother Scott! You're coming to see me--no one else."
She flushed. "Oh yes, I know. And I shall love it--I shall love it! But--do you think I shall be allowed to come?"
"You must come," he said imperiously.
But Dinah looked dubious. "I expect I shall be wanted at home now. And I don't believe we shall get married in April either. I've been away so long."
He laughed, flicking her cheek. "Haven't I always told you that where there's a will there's a way? If necessary, I can run away with you."
She shook her head. "Oh no! I'd rather not. And if--if we're really going to be married in April, I ought to stay at home to get ready."
"Nonsense!" he said carelessly. "You can do that from Willowmount. Isabel will help you. It's less than an hour's run to town."
Dinah opened her eyes wide. "But I shan't shop in town. I shall have to make all my things. I always do."
He laughed again easily, indulgently. "That simplifies matters. You can do that anywhere. What are you going to be married in? White cotton?"
She laughed with him. "I would love to have a real grand wedding," she said, "the sort of wedding Rose de Vigne will have, with bridesmaids and flowers and crowds and crowds of people. Of course I know it can't be done." She gave