"My rose!" says Molly softly, her eyes filling with tears.
"Mine," returns Hugh gently, and taking it out of her hand he puts it away again carefully.
"Yes, if it had not been for this rose, Molly, I should not be sitting here beside you now. The bullet which would have been buried in my heart struck this (touching the box), and glanced aside. So you see, Molly, it was you who saved my life!—a worthless one enough until you took me in hand, dear. Well, now I suppose we must go and join the others. What a start I shall give them!"
When they reach the lawn they find the Mr. Talboys have arrived with Daisy and Bobby; and when they have all got over their first astonishment at the sight of the haggard-looking personage walking by Molly's side, there is a general rush, and hearty congratulations are showered on Hugh by every one upon his safe arrival home again. Although nothing is actually said upon the subject, it is not difficult to guess at the true state of affairs when they glance from Hugh's speaking face to Molly, where she stands a little apart, with downcast eyes and heightened colour; and there is extra warmth thrown into the welcome to the returned wanderer on this account perhaps.
"But where is Daisy?—not ill, I hope;" and Hugh looks inquiringly towards Molly.
"O no," says Mrs. Merivale rising. "I am thankful to say that she is quite a little Samson to what she was formerly. But she and Bobby have been dining with the Mr. Talboys to-day, and Daisy seems a little done up with the heat. She complained of headache, so Honor insisted on her lying on the sofa in the drawing-room for a little while. I will take you to see her myself, Hugh;" and putting her arm within his they turn towards the house together.
"The fact is," remarks Honor, shaking her head gravely at the brothers Talboys, "Mr. Ned and Mr. Ben have been giving the children too many good things. Bobby already begins to look as if a powder might be desirable sooner or later."
"Honor!" exclaims that young gentleman indignantly, while Mr. Ned, much concerned at the charge brought against himself and his brother, says emphatically:
"I assure you, my dear, we have been most judicious in that respect, and I am sure that Daisy at least had nothing richer than apricot-tart and cream. To be sure," he adds after a minute, "I have some slight recollection of my brother Ben and Daisy having finished up the tart between them, but I don't think it was a very large one. Master Bob and I preferred something more substantial—didn't we, young man?"
"Yes," replies Bobby promptly. "We had a roly-poly jam-pudding, Mr. Ned and I. And we had the jam-pot up as well, because we thought Mrs. Edwards had not put enough in—didn't we, Mr. Ned?"