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

on together. I shall follow in a couple of days. There are several matters to be attended to first. But Isabel and Biddy will take care of you. Come, my dear, you won't dislike that so very badly!"
"Dislike it!" Dinah caught back another sob. "I should love it above all things if it were possible. But it isn't--it isn't."
"Why not?" he questioned. "Surely your father would not raise any objection?"
She shook her head. "No--no! He doesn't care what happens to me. I used to think he did; but he doesn't--he doesn't."
"Then what is the difficulty?" asked Scott.
She was silent, and he saw the hot colour spreading over her neck as she turned her face away.
"Won't you tell me?" he urged gently. "Is there some particular reason why you want to stay?"
"Oh no! I'm not going to stay." Quickly she made answer. "I am never going back. I couldn't after--after--" She broke off in quivering distress.
"I think your mother will be sorry presently," he said. "People with violent tempers generally repent very deeply afterwards."
Dinah turned upon him suddenly and hotly. "She will never repent!" she declared. "She hates me. She has always hated me. And I hate her--hate her--hate her!"
The concentrated passion of her made her vibrate from head to foot. Her eyes glittered like emeralds. She was possessed by such a fury of hatred as made her scarcely recognizable.
Scott looked at her steadily for a moment or two. Then: "But it does you more harm than good to say so," he said. "And it doesn't answer my question, does it? Dinah, if you don't feel that you can do this thing for your own sake, won't you do it for Isabel's? She is needing you badly just now."
The vindictive look went out of Dinah's face. Her eyes softened, and he saw the hopeless tears well up again. "But I couldn't help her any more," she said.
"The very fact of having you to care for would help her," Scott said.
Dinah shook her head. She was sitting on the ground with her hands clasped round her knees. As the tears splashed down again, she turned her face away.
"It wouldn't help her, it wouldn't help anybody, to have me as I am now," she said. "I can't tell you--I can't explain. But--I am not fit to associate with anyone good."
Scott leaned towards her. "Dinah, my dear, you are torturing yourself," he said. "It's natural, I know. You have had no sleep, and you have cried yourself ill. But I am not going to give in to you. I am not going to take No for an answer. You have no plans for yourself, and I doubt if in your present state you are capable of forming any. Isabel wants you, and it would be cruel to disappoint her. So you and I will join her at Great Mallowes this afternoon. I will deal with your people in the matter, but I do not anticipate any great difficulty in that direction. Now that is settled, and you need not weary yourself with any further discussion. I am responsible, and I will bear my responsibility."
His tone was kind but it held unmistakable finality.
Dinah uttered a heavy sigh, and said no more. She lacked the strength for prolonged opposition.
He persuaded her to drink some more of the milk, and made a cushion of his coat for her against the tree.
"Perhaps you will get a little sleep," he said, as she suffered herself to relax somewhat. "Will it disturb you if I smoke?"
"No," she said.
He took out his case. "Shut your eyes!" he said practically.
But Dinah's eyes remained open, watching him. He began to smoke as if unaware of her scrutiny.
After several moments she spoke. "Scott!"
He turned to her. "Yes? What is it?"
The piteous, shamed colour rose up under his eyes. Again she turned her face away. "That--that sapphire pendant!" she murmured. "I brought it with me. Of course--I know--the presents will have to be returned. I didn't mean to--to run away with it. But--but--I loved it so. I couldn't have borne my mother to touch it. Shall I--shall I give it you now?"
"No, dear," he answered firmly. "Neither now nor at any time. I gave it to you as a token of friendship, and I would like you to keep it always for that reason."
"Always?" questioned Dinah. "Even if--if I never marry at all?"
"Certainly," he said.
"Because I never shall marry now," she said, speaking with difficulty. "I--have quite given up that idea."
"I should like you to keep it in any case," Scott said.
"You are very good," she said earnestly. "I--I wonder you will have anything to do with me now that you know how--how wicked I am."
"I don't think you wicked," he said.
"Don't you?" She opened her heavy eyes a little. "You don't blame me for--for--" She broke off shuddering, and as she did so, there came again the rumble and roar of a distant train. "Then why did you stop me?" she whispered tensely.
Scott was silent for a moment or two. He was gazing straight before him. At length, "I stopped you," he said, "because I had to. It doesn't matter why. You would have done the same in my place. But I don't blame you, partly because it is not my business, and partly because I know quite well that you didn't realize what you were doing."
"I did realize," Dinah said. "If it weren't for you--because you are so good--nothing would have stopped me. Even now--even now--" again the hot tears came--"I've nothing to live for, and--and--God--doesn't--care." She turned her face into her arm and wept silently.
Scott made a sudden movement, and threw his cigarette away. Then swiftly he bent over her.
"Dinah," he said, "stop crying! You're making a big mistake."
His tone was arresting, imperative. She looked up at him almost in spite of herself. His eyes gazed straight into hers, and it seemed to her that there was something magnetic, something that was even unearthly, in their close regard.
"You are making a mistake," he repeated. "God always cares. He cared enough to send a friend to look after you. Do you want any stronger proof than that?"
"I--don't--know," Dinah said, awe-struck.
"Think about it!" Scott insisted. "Do you seriously imagine that it was just chance that brought me along at that particular moment? Do you think it was chance that made you draw back yesterday from giving yourself to a man you don't love? Was it chance that sent you to Switzerland in the first place? Don't you know in your heart that God has been guiding you all through?"
"I don't know," Dinah said again, but there was less of hopelessness in her voice. The shining certainty in Scott's eyes was warring with her doubt. "But then, why has He let me suffer so?"
"Why did He suffer so Himself?" Scott said. "Except that He might learn obedience? It's a bitter lesson to all of us, Dinah; but it's got to be learnt."
"You have learnt it!" she said, with a touch of her own impulsiveness.
He smiled a little--smiled and sighed. "I wonder. I've learnt anyhow to believe in the goodness of God, and to know that though we can't see Him in all things, it's not because He isn't there. Even those who know Him best can't realize Him always."
"But still you are sure He is there?" Dinah questioned.
"I am quite sure," he said, with a conviction so absolute that it placed further questioning beyond the bounds of possibility. "Life is full of problems which it is out of any man's power to solve. But to anyone who will take the trouble to see them the signs are unmistakable. There is not a single soul that is left unaccounted for in the reckoning of God. He cares for all."
There was no contradicting him; Dinah was too weary for discussion in any case. But he had successfully checked her tears at last; he had even in a measure managed to comfort her torn soul. She lay for a space pondering the matter.
"I am afraid I am one of those who don't take the trouble," she said at length. "But I shall try to now. Thank you for all your goodness to me, Mr. Greatheart." She smiled at him wanly. "I don't deserve it--not a quarter of it. But I'm grateful all the same. Please won't you have your smoke now, and forget me and my troubles?"
That smile cheered Scott more than any words. He recognized moreover that the delicate touch of reserve that characterized her speech was the first evidence of returning self-control that she had manifested.
He took out his cigarette-case again. "I hope you haven't found me over-presumptuous," he said.
Dinah reached up a trembling hand. "Presumptuous for helping me in the Valley of Humiliation?" she said.
He took the hand and held it firmly. "I am so used to it myself," he said, in a low voice. "I ought to know a little about it."
"Perhaps," said Dinah thoughtfully, "that is what makes you great."
He raised his shoulders slightly. "You have always seen me through a magnifying-glass," he said whimsically. "Some day the fates will reverse that glass and then you will be unutterably shocked."
Dinah smiled again and shook her head. "I know you," she said.
He lighted his cigarette, and then brought out a pocket-book. "I want to write a note to Isabel," he said. "You don't mind?"
"About me?" questioned Dinah.
"About the arrangements I am making. She is motoring to Great Mallowes in any case to catch the afternoon express."
"Oh!" said Dinah, and coloured vividly, painfully.
Scott did not see. "I can get someone at the farm to take the message," he said. "And when once you are with Isabel I shall feel easy about you."
"And--and--my--mother?" faltered Dinah.
"I shall write to her this afternoon while we are waiting for Isabel," said Scott quietly.
"What--shall you say?" whispered Dinah.
"Do you mind leaving that entirely to me?" he said.
"She will be--furious," she murmured. "She might--out of revenge come after us. What then?"
"She will certainly not do that," said Scott, "as she will not know your address. Besides, people do not remain furious, you know. They cool down, and then they are generally ashamed of themselves. Don't let us talk about your mother!"
"The de Vignes then," said Dinah, turning from the subject with relief. "Tell me what happened! Was the Colonel very angry?"
Scott's mouth twitched slightly. "Not in the least," he said.
"Not really!" Dinah looked incredulous for a moment; then: "Perhaps he thinks there is a fresh chance for Rose," she said.
"Perhaps he does," agreed Scott dryly. "In any case, he is more disposed to smile than frown, and as Eustace wasn't there to see it, it didn't greatly matter."
"Oh, poor Eustace!" she whispered. "It--was dreadful to hurt him so."
"I think he will get over it," Scott said.
"He was much--kinder--than--than I deserved," she murmured.
Scott's faint smile reappeared. "Perhaps he found it difficult to be anything else," he said.
She shook her head. "I wonder--how I came to make--such a dreadful mistake."
"It wasn't your fault," said Scott.
She looked at him quickly. "What makes you say that?"
He met her look gravely. "Because I know just how it happened," he said. "You were neither of you in earnest in the first place. I am afraid I had a hand in making Eustace propose to you. I was afraid--and so was Isabel--you would be hurt by his trifling."
"And you interfered?" breathed Dinah.
He nodded. "Yes, I told him it must be one thing or the other. I wanted you to be happy. But instead of helping you,