When tea was over Olivia left the room for a little. Alwyn had utterly refused to go to bed until he had seen Dr. Luttrell; he was evidently tormented by remorse for his hardness to his father, and Olivia thought that he might unburden himself more freely to his old friend; and she was right. On her return she found them talking together, and the strained, hunted look had left Alwyn's eyes.
Greta's were swollen with weeping, but there was a smile on her lips.
"Alwyn has been telling me his troubles," she said, simply, "and I could not help crying over them, he has suffered so, and I felt so sorry for him. If only we had not gone abroad! But when we came back the Grange was empty, and no one knew what had become of Alwyn. He had quarrelled with his father, and it was supposed he had enlisted and gone to India; and he had talked so often of doing this that I thought it was probably the truth. Now I must go, but I shall come again to-morrow." And then she smiled at him and rose from her seat.
"He has talked it all out and it has done him good," she observed, as she and Olivia lingered a moment in the passage; "but if his father dies, Alwyn will never get over it.
"Oh, he is much to blame," she went on; "he has been very wild, very imprudent, utterly mad and reckless; but his poor father was to blame, too. A high-spirited lad like Alwyn would not be kept in leading-strings. Mr. Gaythorne was far too strict with him—his own mother said so—and yet in his way he loved him. How often poor Olive would cry about it to me.
"Dear, dear Olive, how I loved her! And I was very fond of Mrs. Gaythorne, too, she was so sweet and motherly; she always called us her big and her little daughter. I was so much taller than Olive; but there"—interrupting herself—"if I begin talking about the old days at the Grange I shall never finish."
"But you will come to-morrow?"
"Yes; indeed, how could I keep away? Do you know that for years Alwyn and I were just like brother and sister—I don't believe he cared much more for Olive than he did for me. I think I understood him better than she did—his mother always said so. Well, good-night, dear Mrs. Luttrell; I shall come to-morrow as early as I can."
When Olivia went back to the parlour she found Alwyn lying back in his chair looking utterly spent and exhausted.
"I believe I shall have to take your advice and go to bed," he said. "All this has taken the starch out of me, and I feel dead beat"—and he looked so ill that Olivia half thought of sending for her husband. Fortunately he came in half an hour later, and went up at once to Alwyn's room.