I spoke with some bitterness, for it seemed to me that I had made a fruitless sacrifice of what was very precious. I could not believe that aunt would be able to make everything right, nor could I persuade myself that it did not matter.
"I am sure that your uncle was glad that you were with her," mother said. "Don't worry about it, Nan. It is cowardly to mind what people may say about us, if our conscience tells us we have done right. I would not have a girl reckless as to the opinion others may form of her, but it is a mistake to let ourselves be unduly influenced by a fear of misjudgment."
I knew that mother's words were true, but it was not of "people" that I was thinking. It was good to be with mother again. I enjoyed the days at home, yet my mind dwelt much at "Gay Bowers," and I found myself looking forward to my return with mingled longing and dread.
To my great satisfaction it was arranged that father should take me back and stay over Sunday at "Gay Bowers." Aunt could give him Mr. Dicks's room, as that gentleman had gone with his daughter to the seaside for a fortnight. At the expiration of that time Paulina hoped once more to take up her abode at "Gay Bowers."
In spite of all misgivings, I felt wonderfully lighthearted when father and I reached Chelmsford late in the afternoon. His presence was a great support to me. If Alan Faulkner doubted me, he could not fail to see that father and I were on the best of terms. I knew that he liked father, and I looked forward to hearing them talk together.
As the train entered the station I caught sight of the wagonette waiting outside. Had any one come to meet us? As I stepped on to the platform I looked about me at once eagerly and timidly. Some one had come to meet us. It was Miss Cottrell. My heart sank as I caught sight of her. I could have dispensed with her society.
Miss Cottrell was looking wonderfully well. Was it the new hat and the pink blouse she wore which made her appear younger? I could not believe that it was simply my return which gave her face such a radiant expression. Yet she greeted me very warmly. It was evident that she was in the best of spirits. Even father noticed how well she looked.
"I hope you are as well as you look, Miss Cottrell," he said. "You seem to have quite recovered from the fatigue of nursing. Yet you must have had a very trying time."
"Oh, no, indeed!" she said briskly. "Paulina's was not a bad case, and she has been convalescent for the past week. I really had not much to do."
"I expected to hear that you had gone with her to the seaside," I said.