The touch of dignity, which even as a child she had possessed, was more noticeable now in the poise of her head and in her whole manner; but the face was not in the least altered: it was the same sweet gentle face which had for so long reigned in Ralph’s heart.
He sprang up to greet her, and Evereld with a joyous laugh ran towards him.
“Oh, Ralph! is it you?” she eried, radiant with happiness. “What a tease Mr. Hereford is! He told me it was someone from Mr. Marriott on business!”
Ralph laughed as he released her from his embrace. “We have not begun in a very business like way!” he said, “but it is quite true that I have come from Mr. Marriott’s house. He has been telling me of this fraudulent trustee who has treated you so shamefully. Are you very angry with those two rogues? How does it feel to be robbed of a fortune?”
“It feels anything but pleasant,” said Evereld warmly. “But what I find it hardest to forgive is the hypocrisy. Of course it is sad to think that the money which my father and grandfather earned by such hard work has all been wasted, specially as I thought it would have been useful to you some day. Do you realise, dear, that I shall be quite poor?”
“I don’t care a fig about that,” said Ralph. “But when I remember that those vile knaves nearly succeeded in trapping you into a marriage which must have been lifelong misery to you, then—well, I feel like killing.”
“But they never did nearly succeed, Ralph,” she said slipping her hand into his. “I would have died sooner than marry Bruce Wylie. Oh, how good it is to be here with you, and quite safe! That time at Glion was dreadful.”
“Do you know that you at nineteen have baffled two of the cleverest rogues of the present time?” said Ralph. “It is delicious to think of that. How did you think of such a plan and carry it out so pluckily?”
“I don’t know how,” said Evereld. “But I knew that somehow I must get away out of their power. Then, when, I was so very unhappy this thought suddenly came to me of Bride O’Ryan and Aimée Magnay in Auvergne, and after that it was all quite simple—except, indeed, the Continental Bradshaw which nearly drove me distracted!”
“You told me in your letter about that jolly old priest who took care of you. We must go and see him some day. I should like to thank him.”