“The Parcels Delivery van! I thought something must be coming. Have you any change, Jack? I’ve nothing smaller than sixpence, and the man will want a Christmas-box—a few coppers, perhaps.”
“Oh, give the poor beggar half a crown. Don’t insult him with coppers,” said Jack in his lordly way, pulling a handful of silver from his pocket and selecting the largest coin of the number. “I’ll take it to him myself. You might give him some tea if there is any left. It is perishingly cold outside!”
He stepped towards the door, but before he reached it, it was opened from without, a tall figure precipitated itself into the room, and with two separate cries of rapture the sisters flew to meet each other, and stood with locked arms, kissing, laughing, and questioning, with incredulous delight.
“Esmeralda darling! Is it really you? You are not a dream, dear, are you? I can’t believe it’s true!”
“It was Geoff’s doing! He saw I was fretting for you, and suggested that we should come to town and stay over the New Year at an hotel. There was not time to get the house ready. A whole week, Bridgie! Won’t we talk! There are such oceans of things to tell you. Baby is beginning to speak!”
“The precious mite!” Bridgie disentangled one hand and held it towards her brother-in-law in beaming welcome. “I always did say you were a broth of a boy, Geoffrey, but you have eclipsed yourself this time. I am so happy I don’t know how to bear it. Now Christmas will be something like Christmas, and—” she smiled encouragingly into Sylvia’s embarrassed face,—“we have a visitor staying with us to make things still more festive. My new friend, Miss Sylvia Trevor, who is recovering from a long illness.”
Esmeralda wheeled round to face the sofa and stared at the stranger with haughty scrutiny. Her flowing skirts seemed to fill the little room; her cloak was thrown back, showing a glimpse of costly sable lining; her imperious beauty made her appear older than the gentle Bridgie, a hundred times more formidable. The formal bend of the head brought with it an acute sense of discomfiture to the recipient. For the first time since crossing that hospitable threshold she realised that she was a solitary unit, a stranger set down in the midst of an affectionate family party, and if it had not been for the crippling foot, she would have rushed away to the haven of the room upstairs. As it was, however, she was condemned to lie still and return Esmeralda’s commonplaces with what grace she might.
“I am pleased to see you,” said Esmeralda’s tongue. “What a nuisance you are!” said the flash of the cold grey eyes. “Such a pleasure for Bridgie to have a friend.” “But now that I have arrived, you are not wanted any longer, and are terribly in my way!” One set of phrases were as intelligible as the other to the sensitive invalid, and if Esmeralda’s anticipations were dashed by her presence, she herself abandoned all prospect of enjoyment, and only longed to be able to return home forthwith.
Bridgie would not need her companionship any longer; she could be but a restraint and kill-joy in the conferences of newly-united sisters. She stared dismally at the floor, then looked up to see Jack carrying the tea-table bodily across the room and setting it down by her couch. Sarah had brought in fresh tea and cakes for the refreshment of the travellers, and he motioned slightly towards his sisters, saying in an undertone,—“Bridgie will be incoherent for an hour. Will you come to the rescue? If we don’t look after the tea, no one else will.”
He smiled at her as he spoke, not sentimentally this time, but with a straightforward kindliness which showed that he had understood and sympathised with her embarrassment. Occupation for hand and mind was the most tactful comfort which he could have administered, and Bridgie’s eager, “Oh, thank you, dear! How good of you!” showed that she was indeed thankful to be relieved of every duty but that of talking to her sister and watching her with adoring eyes.