Suddenly there was the sound of horse’s feet coming towards them; and the figure of its rider loomed large and spectral in the gray, uncertain light. Kate knew instantly who it was. In a moment or two they must needs pass each other. She looked quickly into her father’s face, and he said huskily, “Be brave, Kate, be brave!”
The words had barely been spoken, when Piers slowly passed them. He removed his hat, and the Squire did the same; but Kate sat with dropped eyes, white as marble. From her nerveless hands the reins had fallen; she swayed in her saddle, and the Squire leaned towards her with encouraging touch and words. But she could hear nothing but the hurrying flight of her lover, and the despairing cry which the wind brought sadly back as he rode rapidly up the little lane,–
“Kate! Kate! Kate!”
Fortunately, news of Miss Curzon’s and Edgar’s arrival at Ashley Hall came to Atheling that very hour; and the Squire and Mrs. Atheling were much excited at their proposal to lunch at Atheling Manor the next day. Kate had to put aside her own feelings, and unite in the family joy of reunion. There was a happy stir of preparation, and the Squire dressed himself with particular care to meet his son and his new daughter. As soon as he heard of their approach, he went to the open door to meet them.
To Edgar he gave his right hand, with a look which cancelled every hard word; and then he lifted little Annie Curzon from her horse, and kissed her on the doorstep with fatherly affection. And between Kate and Annie a warm friendship grew apace; and the girls were continually together, and thus, insensibly, Kate’s sorrow was lightened by mutual confidence and affection.
Early in June the Squire and Edgar were to return to London, for Parliament re-opened on the fourteenth; and a few days before their departure Mrs. Atheling asked her husband one afternoon to take a drive with her. “To be sure I will, Maude,” he answered. “It isn’t twice in a twelvemonth thou makest me such an offer.” She was in her own little phaeton, and the Squire settled himself comfortably at her side, and took the reins from her hands. “Which way are we to go?” he asked.
“We will go first to Gisbourne Gates, and maybe as far as Belward.”
The Squire wondered a little at her direction, for she knew Gisbourne was rather a sore subject with him. As they approached the big iron portals, rusty on all their hinges from long neglect, he could not avoid saying,–
“It is a shame beyond everything that I have not yet been able to buy Gisbourne. The place has been wanting a master for fifteen years; and it lays between Atheling and Belward as the middle finger lays between the first and the third. I thought I might manage it next year; but this Parliament business has put me a good bit back.”
“Many things have put you back, John. There was Edgar’s college expenses, and the hard times, and what not beside. Look, John! the gates are open. Let us drive in. It is twenty years since I saw Gisbourne Towers.”