“You shall give me all your messages before I start,” Miss Charteris replied. “Now let me read to you a little—you look tired. I shall not let you talk any more.”
She smiled gently, and flitted away, leaving Stuart deep in happy thought. His spirits rose as the picture of a blissful future floated before him, and his heart was filled with gratitude toward Vane. Without her help, it would have been a hard fight; but now his fears were lessened, for his darling would have one stanch, true friend.
Sir Douglas Gerant, walking through the hall, glanced at the invalid lying back in the chair, his face illumined with the flood of happiness that thrilled him.
“You look better, Stuart,” he said, abruptly, approaching the young man.
“I am feeling splendid,” Stuart replied, heartily.
“Hum! What new remedy have you tried, may I ask?” Sir Douglas said, dryly.
“A new doctor has prescribed for me,” Stuart said, with a laugh; “and here she is. Cousin Vane, see how much good you have done me! Sir Douglas has complimented me with almost professional jealousy.”
Miss Charteris smiled, and, seating herself, opened her book, while Sir Douglas retraced his steps through the hall to the front entrance and walked thence across the sweep of lawn to the lodge gates.
“So the wind blows in that quarter!” he mused, while a frown contracted his brow. “I am sorry and disappointed. He is a good lad, worthy of a better woman than that proud, selfish creature. Well, I am an old fool! The sooner I go from here the better. I shall grow too fond of Sholto’s son if I stay much longer.”
He walked briskly across the lawn, then turned into the avenue, and approached the gates. The sun was beating down on the hot, dusty lane, the lodge-keeper’s wife was standing, her arms akimbo, talking to some one leaning wearily against the iron pillar.