He wrote one to Alizon, as strongly worded as he was able, and a second to Otterburn, telling him he must bring Lady Errington over at once. In both he wrote the words, "It is a case of life and death," those words that had been ringing in his ears ever since the doctor had said them.
Then, as he handed the telegram to the clerk, the temptation again assailed him. It was not too late, let him withdraw the messages, tear them up, and there would be a chance of his winning the woman he loved instead of going into voluntarily exile. But at the price of a man's life? No! that was too big a price to pay, and yet--he put down the money demanded by the clerk and walked out of the post office.
Outside in the sunshine he stood with drops of sweat on his forehead, and the soul that had been saved from the commission of a great crime, put up a prayer of thanks to God that this last temptation had passed, and that the powers of evil had not prevailed in the hour of weakness.
[CHAPTER XXXIX.]
"AND KISSED AGAIN WITH TEARS."
"You have returned with your face so fair,
Your sweet blue eyes and your golden hair,
Again to cherish--again to share
This life of mine with its joy and care.
"Alas, my dearest, the days were long,
When memories came in a countless throng,
To sing to my heart such a haunting song,
Of things once right that had changed to wrong.
"You have returned just to heal the smart
That Sorrow made with her cruel dart,
Never again will we sigh and part.
You once more are my leal sweetheart."
The Hon. Angus Macjean's experiences of early married life could hardly be called pleasant, seeing the demands made upon himself and his bride by their mutual friends. Shortly after their marriage, Aunt Jelly had died, thereby causing them to return to London before the end of the honeymoon, then, during their visit to Lord Dunkeld, Mrs. Macjean had been summoned south in order to console Lady Errington for the loss of her child, and now as Eustace had telegraphed Alizon to come over to her sick husband at San Remo, it was necessary that Otterburn should escort her, for it was impossible, in her present state of grief, that she could travel alone. The young couple, therefore, did not get so much of each other's company as they desired, and it said a great deal for the good nature of both, that they were so ready to comfort the mourner, at the sacrifice of their own desires, and the upsetting of all their plans.
Life at Errington Hall was very dreary after the death of the heir, as Victoria was constantly with the unhappy mother and Otterburn was left to wander about with nothing but his own thoughts, which were not particularly cheerful in the present aspect of affairs. Then came the funeral, which Macjean had to look after entirely by himself, as Eustace and Errington were both absent. The young man had received a letter from Gartney, stating that Guy was too ill to travel, and Victoria had shown it to Alizon, but, wrapped up in the selfishness of grief for her great loss, she had made hardly any remark about this new blow.