"I wonder why my aunt hates me so?" she asked Vand with a piteous look. "I have never done her any harm."
"She only gives way to her temper, Miss Huxham," said the cripple soothingly, "and doesn't mean half she says. Don't trouble any more about Rosamund. I am your friend. You will shake hands, will you not?"
Bella did not hesitate to take the hand extended to her, as she admitted silently that if Vand had not interposed she would not have received the money. Besides, her new relative throughout had proved himself to be so courteous and thoughtful that she had no reason to mistrust him. Howsoever Mrs. Vand had become possessed of the farm and income of the late Captain Huxham, her husband was at least innocent. "But I do not bind myself to take no steps if necessary to recover Bleacres," Bella warned the young man, as she shook his hand. "You understand that?"
"Perfectly; and indeed, if Rosamund has come wrongfully by the estate she must surrender it. Still, Miss Huxham, you cannot expect me to doubt my own wife, especially as Rosamund has been good enough to marry a cripple such as I am."
"I think, without flattery to you," said Bella, walking towards the door, "that my aunt has got the best of the bargain," and the last thing she saw when throwing a glance over her shoulder was Vand blushing crimson at the unusual compliment. But Bella meant what she said, as even ease and wealth were hardly purchased by marriage with a furious, coarse-natured woman such as Rosamund Vand. The girl wondered how she had ever come to have such an aunt; she might have wondered also how she ever came to have a parent so common and ruffianly as her late father had been.
That same afternoon Bella packed all her belongings and had them carried by Tunks to the hither side of the boundary channel. There they were placed on a hand-cart and wheeled to Miss Ankers' cottage. Mrs. Vand discreetly kept out of the way when Bella departed, or perhaps her husband insisted that she should not drive forth the girl with insults, as she certainly would have done. At all events she remained invisible, and it was Vand alone who said good-bye to the homeless girl. Bella felt a pang when she looked back along the narrow path of the corn-fields to see a stranger standing in the doorway. She was certain of one thing—that Mrs. Vand had found a master, and that for all his quietness and polite ways her husband would not allow her to have her own way as she had hitherto done. Doubtless her aunt had deemed Vand would be as harmless and innocuous as the scarlet-coated scarecrow, of which Bella caught a last glimpse; but there was no doubt in the girl's mind as to which of the happy pair would rule the house. Mrs. Vand's coarse bullying could do very little against the quiet persistence of a polite man, who was determined to govern. So far as Bella knew from Huxham, her aunt had ruled her first husband with a rod of iron; now she was about to be governed in her turn. "And much good may it do her," thought Bella, who was much too human to be forgiving.
Dora was delighted that her best friend should board with her, and received Miss Huxham with open arms. After tea, the two arranged Bella's bedroom to their satisfaction and unpacked her boxes. Then they had a talk as to the advisability of going to Cade Lane for the purpose of questioning Mr. Timson regarding the will. "You should attend to the matter at once, my dear," said Dora, who was extremely practical for all her doll-like looks. "Lose no time, for I am certain that your aunt has employed some trickery in getting possession of the property."
"I shall consult Cyril first," said Bella wearily, and little more was said on that night, as the girl was quite worn out with the events of the day.
Next morning Miss Ankers had to teach in school as usual, and Bella was left to her own devices. She assisted Dora's small servant to tidy the rooms and make the beds, after which she put on her hat and walked into the village to make some small purchases. Also—and this was by Dora's advice—she saw the manager of the small local bank, and opened an account with him by paying in her aunt's cheque for one hundred pounds. The manager courteously promised to send the cheque to London, and to notify Bella when it was honoured. Miss Huxham was somewhat relieved at this promise, as she did not trust her aunt, and knew that she was quite capable of stopping the cheque, especially when she had not given it with a good grace. But Bella need not have troubled her head; the cheque was duly honoured, as Mr. Henry Vand saw to that.
Having dispatched her business, Bella strolled out of the village, and found herself on the common. This was a vast expanse overgrown with gorse and broom, and with a miniature forest of saplings springing from an undergrowth of fern and bracken. Through this fairy wood, as some people called it, narrow paths were cut, so that one could wander for hours in and out of a kind of natural labyrinth. The saplings were scarcely six feet in height, so that an extra tall man could look over the green sea of vegetation. Bella loved this place, as she had often sauntered therein with Dora, and indeed with Cyril also. The wonderful tangle of fern and bracken and many-hued grasses, the brilliant colouring of flowers, and the fecund blossoming of the golden broom, made the common a home of delight. Bella walked meditatively through the cool green paths, and emerged at intervals on to wide, waste spaces where the purple heather grew thickly. Butterflies floated through the still air, bumble-bees visited the flowers, and the birds sang as in an enchanted garden. Bella stopped to hear the silvery carol of an invisible lark, for the bird, raining its music lavishly from the sky, was quite hidden by the dazzle of sunshine. As she paused, she felt a light hand touch her shoulder, and turned with a glad cry.