'Not in the least, Sir Paladin,' said Lucy, laughing, while, for the third time that morning, Tom felt the dark flush mounting to his face. 'She writes that Meerut is waking up. But I dare say you will have heard that already. The private news is that General Elton—my uncle, you know—is in his element, helping to restore order in the district, and that my poor dear aunt is distracted with anxiety to come on here at once.'
'I wish she could come,' said Tom. 'I have written to ask if it could be managed.'
'Oh, have you?' cried Lucy, the slightly artificial tone that had been apparent in her manner giving place to the most genuine eagerness. 'And do you think she will be able to come?'
'It will depend very much upon herself and General Elton. Personally, I don't think there would be any risk if she was properly attended. You would be glad to see her?'
'Glad!' cried Lucy, clasping her hands. 'I should be simply wild! And Grace—dearest Grace!—I believe it would do her more good than anything else. I sat beside her bed half the night, poor darling! Not that I was afraid of anything, you know; but that it was so delightful—such a rest and happiness—just to feast my eyes upon her. She spoke in her sleep once, and I bent over her to catch her words. "Take it away, mother," she said, "take it away! I can't bear it!" I moved her pillow and she half-opened her eyes and smiled. But a little later she cried out again, and there was fear in her voice—fear and horror—"Mother is dead!" she said. "Mother is dead, or she would come." I whispered to her that she was not dead—that she was coming; and then my poor darling smiled again, and lay quite still, looking as beautiful as an angel.'
Lucy's eyes were full of tears, and her voice was husky long before she came to the end of her little story. As for Tom, he could not so much as answer her. And so they stood silent for a few moments, he looking down absently into the basin of water, by whose marble brim they had stopped to have their little talk.
It was embarrassing to Lucy, and she began again presently, moving as she spoke towards the door of the pavilion in the garden. 'We get such longings out here for the home faces,' she said, with a plaintive little smile. 'And in England we don't care. Sometimes we are stupid enough to think we would as soon be without them. At Nowgong, you know, I was getting perfectly ill with my longing to see some of them. And mother and father, who are at Lucknow, heard of it, and Grace was staying with them, having a first-rate time of it too! and she left everything and came to me. She is an angel! an angel!' said little Lucy tremulously. 'If anything happened to her it would break my heart. But it will be all right as soon as Aunt Grace comes.'
'Yes, yes, all right! Thank you for saying so,' said Tom hoarsely. He held out his hand. 'You will take care of her meanwhile, Lucy?'
She pressed it warmly. 'Take care of her! Of course I will, as much as I can.'
'And if there is anything she wants—anything you think would be better changed, you will let me know. You see'—blushing and fidgeting—'I am a novice about all these things. I don't really know what ladies want.'