Philippa looked up with interest.
“No, indeed,” she said. “I had no idea of it.”
“Nor had Evelyn; it is natural enough, however, that she should not have heard of it, for it is not what agents call a ‘residential estate.’ There was no house. But quite lately the old squire has bought more land there, and on it there is a small house, a sort of good farm-house, which might easily be converted into a very charming little place. And with the increased size of the property he wants some one there to look after it. This is what he is talking about to Duke; his idea is for Duke to leave the army and settle down there. They are talking it over busily, Evey says. Of course, Duke is sorry to give up his profession, but then, as the squire truly says, there is the future to think of—his children and—” Here Mrs Raynsworth consulted the letter. ”‘He says, too,’ Evey writes, ‘that if Duke’s future is to be that of a country proprietor, the sooner he learns some details of the business the better. That is the way he puts it, you see—half jokingly. But he is too kind and good to mislead us. And in many ways —shire would suit us better at present than farther north. I shall get quite strong in time, no doubt, but India has tried me, and Vanda is not too robust either. Phil will remember what a lovely part of the country it is near Merle-in-the-Wold.’ Ah, yes,” Mrs Raynsworth went on, “that shows that she meant to tell you. She adds also something about Mr Gresham’s being such a pleasant neighbour.”
“It does sound delightful,” said Philippa, with sparkling eyes. “I do hope it will be soon decided about I shall have to try to forget about it, or I shall be able to think of nothing else.”
“It is not likely that we shall be kept very long in suspense,” said her mother, “for Evelyn and Duke will be back in a week, and by that time they are sure to know.”
Even a week, however, seems to extend itself magically, if one—especially if “one” is young and eager—has any great reason for wishing it over. But the first glance at her sister and brother-in-law’s bright faces as the familiar old Marlby fly drew up at the Greenleaves door told that all was right, and Philippa’s heart rebounded with joy.
“Isn’t it too lovely, Phil?” whispered Evelyn already, as they were crossing the hall. “Mamma has told you what we have been hoping, hasn’t she? I told her she might, though Duke wanted to tell papa and Charley himself.”
“And is it really settled, then?” asked Phil; “if so, it is almost too lovely as you say.”
“Yes, it is settled, quite settled. Duke wrote about retiring before we left Wyverston. That is the only melancholy bit of it, for he has been so happy in his regiment, and he loves his work. It was better for him to do it there—on the spot, as it were—when the family feeling could keep him up to knowing it was right. Poor old Duke! The squire did so understand and liked him the better for it, I could see. And I was glad for them all to feel that there is sacrifice even in his accepting the position of future head of the house. And—but I must wait till afterwards to tell you everything. I think I shall have to talk for a week without stopping, once Duke lets me.”
They were in the drawing-room by this time, where all the others were waiting to receive the travellers. For the Raynsworths were “old-fashioned” enough to be a very united family. The comings and goings of any among them were of interest to the others; their joys and sorrows were common to all, and Duke Headfort, from his somewhat lonely and isolated position before his marriage, seemed at Greenleaves, for the first time, to learn what home life and home affections are.