Mr Bertrand smiled to himself as he stroked the girl’s soft hair. Small fear that he or anyone else would cease caring for lovely, lovable Lettice; but all the same, his smile was more sad than bright.
“I shall always love you, dear,” he said; “but, Lettice, try to think less of people’s love for you, and more of your own love for them. That is the secret of happiness! This constant craving to receive love is not far removed from selfishness, when you go down to the root of things. Try to think of other people first—”
“I will, father—I really will; but don’t lecture me to-day, plea–se! I feel so low and wretched that I can’t stand anything more. I am not—all—all—altogether bad, am I?”
Mr Bertrand laughed despite himself. “No, indeed. Very well, then—no more lectures. We understand each other now, and there are to be no more clouds between us. Off with you into the hotel! Put on your hat and cloak, and we will go for a row on the lake before lunch.”
Chapter Twenty Seven.
A Glad Surprise.
The weather continued so warm and sunny that Mr Bertrand and his party lingered in Thun, day after day, enjoying the Indian summer, and loath to tear themselves away from the lovely surroundings. Lettice remained silent and subdued, but there was no longer any coldness between her and her companions, and her face had lost the strained, despairing expression which had been so painful to behold. The news from London, moreover, was as satisfactory as could be hoped for under the circumstances. A friend of Arthur Newcome’s, who was also engaged to be married, had come forward and offered to take the house and furniture at a valuation, while his father had recalled his business manager in America and was sending Arthur to take his place for the next two or three years. Everyone felt that the change would be the best cure which the poor fellow could have, while it was an immense relief to know that there would be no danger of painful encounters in London. Even with this dread removed, Mr Bertrand was in ten minds about his plans for the coming winter. There seemed many reasons why it would be better to remain quietly in Westmoreland for another year. He puzzled over the question in private, and finally confided his difficulty to Mr Rayner, with startling and unexpected results.
“You see, the boys could go on as they are for some time to come; Norah is not over anxious for the change, and I cannot say I am willing to let Lettice go much into society just now. She is so very lovely that she is bound to attract attention, and after this painful business it would be in better taste to keep out of the way until it is forgotten. All things considered, I think I should be wise to give up the idea of coming to town until next winter.”