'Of course we can manage for you,' added Clement; 'as long as you work, there can be no difficulty.'
No thanks, no reply, indeed, followed, and Sir Adrian bade Alda hasten if she wished to take leave of her sister. Major Harewood would take her across at once, and she would be called for at the cottage on the way to the station. Wilmet was reported to have lain very still, shedding a good many soft tears, but not seeming the worse.
Alda held Geraldine closer than she had ever done before, and entreated, 'Write often, and let me know about you all. I wish we had been more together.'
Marilda was going to London with her, Sir Adrian was still in ignorance of the coming blow, and there was nothing in the farewell to Ferdinand to make him expect it, so his scowl at his wife's hand-shake was on the old score. Poor Alda, at least she had her children.
Their sweet Princess Fair Star! Yes, she must go! Captain Audley was waiting to drive the young couple to meet the express. They were to take a fortnight's quiet in the Isle of Wight, and then enter on their new world. It was time Charlie should have his wife to himself after all the patience, unselfishness, consideration, and helpfulness that had sealed him as a true brother, and endeared him the more from the contrast not only to Alda's husband but to his own father.
Clement had to be the parental brother to lead the bride to the carriage. He kissed and blessed her in the porch, saying, 'Little one, you have had a sad beginning, but I am glad you were still one with us. We know you all the more.'
'We are glad,' said Stella. 'This is worth more than weeks of happiness.'
'She is right,' said Charlie. 'We would not but have staid for worlds! We ought always to be the better for it. It has made the world look so different to us!'
'But that difference is not gloom,' said his uncle; and the 'Oh no' on his lips, and the bright crystal tears in Stella's eyes were no more gloomy than her diamonds when Felix was musing over them.
So the others turned back into the house that felt so large and empty, and they so few. Clement tendered an arm to help Geraldine upstairs. Somehow, long as it was since she had leant on Felix, this action brought a great sense of change. Clement's aid was the careful bending tenderness of a very tall man towards a small woman; Felix had been more nearly on her level; and merry old boasts on this score came piteously to the minds of both. The brother, who had borne up so strongly through all these days of sorrow and suffering, and months of pain and suspense, found his effort at cheering turn to a sob as he said, 'Ah, Cherry, you must make the best of me. I will try to be all I can, but never, never——'