“Yes,” said the Vicar, sympathising with the effort in his tone—“there is a prayer of thanksgiving for ‘great mercies vouchsafed’—that is what you mean, I think?”
St. Quentin nodded. “I didn’t exactly deserve mercy,” he said, “but I am thankful for it! She’ll be a credit to the name, you know.... Say the prayer for me, will you, now? I can’t go to church, you see!”
And the Vicar, kneeling, thanked God for more than His gift of life to the girl upstairs!
“Come and look me up again when you’ve time, will you?” said the marquess, when Mr. Seaton took his leave; and the Vicar said, “I will,” with all his heart.
Sydney was very happy in her dainty rose-room, with mother sitting by her bedside, holding her hand: she was very happy when carried to the sofa in the morning-room, where mother read to her, or talked and worked. “But I want to go downstairs and see St. Quentin,” she said, and Dr. Lorry was prevailed upon to sanction the proceeding as soon as it was at all safe.
Grand preparations were made downstairs for the great event. Dickson worried St. Quentin to the verge of distraction with his repeated tidyings of the library, and would have worried him into a very bad temper if the preparations had been made on behalf of anyone but Sydney.
A deputation arrived from the convalescent village to know if anyone would be allowed to see “our young lady,” and though Dr. Lorry was obliged to decline such attentions for his patient on her first appearance, the deputation was dismissed with the assurance that Miss Lisle would soon be out and among them once more.
Dr. Chichester came down again for twenty-four hours to see how “his little girl” bore the move, and Sydney had another visitor.
“I suppose she won’t be happy without the paragon!” St. Quentin said to Dr. Lorry, “so you’d better bring him up with you to tea. But mind, he’s not to be up to any of his fool’s tricks with her—talking as though they were mere acquaintances, as he did when last they met. Tell him to be natural and brotherly, or else to stop away!”
But Hugh came. Perhaps his manner was not quite brotherly as he came forward to arrange the sofa for the slight girl whom his father carried in so easily, but Sydney did not seem to find anything amiss with it.