How she longed once again to see Laura Dalton, whose new name and strange story had reached her through the vicar, and amazed her greatly, for she had a sorrowful sense of isolation and helplessness, and this darkened more around her, while heavy illness once more fell upon Sir Ranald, and again the terror came over her that his life would slowly ebb away.
The scathing bitterness of his tongue when he spoke of Goring often made her heart wince, but could provoke no response from her lips, though they often quivered with indignation at his querulous spite. Though Alison was a woman in energy of purpose and power of endeavour, in many ways she was still like the veriest child—especially in so far as a spirit of reasonable obedience to Sir Ranald went; and after all, as a writer has it, even in these our days 'such monsters as parents indefinitely relentless will sometimes outrage dramatic proprieties;' so Alison pondered much upon her future, but failed to see a clue to it.
In her present small world she had but one little pleasure—her letters from her namesake, Sister Lisette, the Beguine, full of prayerful wishes, loving expressions, and pretty messages, and often containing little religious pictures, with gracefully worded mementoes in Latin and French.
And thus the days stole away at Chilcote.
CHAPTER IX.
CADBURY REDIVIVUS.
Unabashed by Alison's steady rejection of his suit, encouraged by the countenance given him by Sir Ranald, who had narrated to him in a letter written in his now feeble and scrawly hand all that had occurred subsequently to his missing Alison in Antwerp, and more than ever encouraged by the latter's missive with reference to the mysterious birthday gift, Lord Cadbury had the bad taste to resume his old footing of more than visitor, and attended by Gaskins, who had now completely recovered, he rode over almost daily from the Court to Chilcote, and was wont to linger long, to the great annoyance of Alison, though Sir Ranald, more ailing and querulous than ever, lay frequently a-bed till nearly noon.
Aware of the trick it could be proved he had, in a spirit of malevolence rather than to serve his master, played Bevil Goring in Antwerp, and his confession thereof in a moment of agony, weakness, and terror, when believing himself to be dying in the Belgian hospital, the rascal Gaskins was very loth to venture within twenty miles of Aldershot camp; but, while believing certainly that the wronged officer of the Rifles would never be at Cadbury Court, he was less sure that he might not fall upon him in the vicinity of Chilcote; thus he was greatly relieved when, in reply to some casual remarks, he elicited from Archie that Captain Goring was in London.
So Gaskins felt his shoulders safe as yet.
'Our fare is no gude enough nae doubt for a gentleman like you, Mr. Gaskins,' said Archie, as he ushered the dandified groom (whose surtout was girt by a waist-belt and garnished with a rosebud button-hole) into the kitchen, his whole face wearing a contemptuous smirk the while; 'but we can aye gi'e a bane o' cauld beef to pyke, wi' a farl o' breid and a cogie o' gude yill, and they are better, ye ken, than sowans, ill-soured, ill-sauted, and sodden.'