CHAPTER L
BOOTY'S MASTER
| 'And she to him will reach her hand, And gazing in his eyes will stand, And know her friend and weep for glee, And cry, "Long, long, I've looked for thee."' Matthew Arnold. |
Kester had spent his Christmas holidays at Woodcote; Audrey loved to have him with her. Somehow he seemed to belong to Michael, and the boy warmly returned her affection.
'Do you know that Mr. Abercrombie is coming home in March?' he said to her the day before he went back to Brighton; 'he is quite well now, and Captain Burnett says he is in a fever to get back to England. Do you think Captain Burnett will come, too?' and Kester looked anxiously in her face.
Audrey could not satisfy Kester on this point; nevertheless, she felt a secret hope stirring in her heart that Michael would not stay away much longer. After all, was it likely that he would wait for the message when he must know how impossible it would be for her to send it? He had been away seven months, and by this time he must be growing homesick.
Almost the same thought occurred to Michael as, early in March, he sat in the loggia of an old Florentine palace, where he and his friend had a suite of rooms.
How long had he been away, he wondered, as he looked out on the sunset—seven, nay, eight months; and as yet there had been no recall. Had he really expected it? Would it not be as well to go back and plead his own cause, and see what these months of absence had done for him, or should he wait a little longer?
Michael's self-imposed exile had not been unhappy. His companion was congenial to him; the varied scenes through which he had passed, the historic interest of the cities, had engrossed and interested him; and, perhaps for the first time, he tasted the delights of a well-filled purse, as he accumulated art treasures and pictures; but, above all, a latent hope, to which he gave no voice or title, kept him patient and cheerful.
'It was too soon; but by and by she will find it out for herself,' he would say, as he strolled through the galleries, or stood by some moss-grown fountain to buy flowers from a dark-eyed Florentine girl.