“Thank you, I am pledged to Sunday.”
“I forgot. But come on Monday then?”
“I had better go and prepare. I had rather you spoke for me. Somehow,” and a strange dew came in David Ogilvie’s eyes, “I could not bear to see her there, where we saw her installed in triumph, now that all is so changed.”
“You would see her the brightest and bravest of all. Neither she nor Babie would mind the loss of fortune a bit if it were not, as Babie says, for ‘other things.’ But those other things are wearing her to a mere shadow. No, not a shadow—that is dark—but a mere sparkle! But to escape from Belforest will cure a great deal.”
So Jock went away with the load on his heart somewhat lightened. He could not get home on Saturday till very late, when dinner had long been over. Coming softly in, through the dimly lighted drawing-rooms, over the deeply piled carpets, he heard Babie’s voice reading aloud in the innermost library, and paused for a moment, looking through the heavy velvet curtains over the doorway before withdrawing one and entering. His mother’s face was in full light, as she sat helping Armine to illuminate texts. She did indeed look worn and thin, and there were absolute lines on it, but they were curves such as follow smiles, rather than furrows of care; feet rather of larks than of crows, and her whole air was far more cheerful and animated than that of her youngest son. He was thin and wan, his white cheeks contrasting with his dark hair and brown eyes, which looked enormous in their weary pensiveness, as he lent back languidly, holding a brush across his lips in a long pause, while she was doing his work. Barbara’s bright keen little features were something quite different as, wholly wrapped up in her book, she read—
“Oh! then Ladurlad started,
As one who, in his grave,
Has heard an angel’s call,
Yea, Mariately, thou must deign to save,
Yea, goddess, it is she,
Kailyal—”
“Are you learning Japanese?” asked Jock, advancing, so that Armine started like Ladurlad himself.
“Dear old Skipjack! Skipped here again!” and they were all about him. “Have you had any dinner?”
“A mouthful at the station. If there is any coffee and a bit of something cold, I’d rather eat it promiscuously here. No dining-room spread, pray. It is too jolly here,” said Jock, dropping into an armchair. “Where’s Bob?”
“Dining at the school-house.”