“There are other steamers than the one in which she has crossed,” returned Raby, with a smile. “I suppose she means to write to you?”
“Oh, yes, she will write from every place—she has promised me long letters, and of course Mrs. Norton will hear from Miss Campion; do you really mean to follow her, Mr. Ferrers?”
“Yes; and to the world’s end if it be necessary. I have a strong will, and even blindness will not hinder me. Tell me how did she seem last night; did she leave cheerfully?”
“Well, no, Crystal puzzled us all night,” returned Fern, quickly; “she went out to bid good-bye to her pupils, and Percy waylaid her, as usual, but she got rid of him somehow; but she was out a long time, and she would not give us any reason; but when she came back her eyes were swelled, and she had a dreadful headache, and yet she said Percy had nothing to do with it.”
A sudden, wild idea flashed into Raby’s mind. “How was she dressed, Miss Trafford—I mean what colored gown did she wear?”
Fern seemed surprised at the question. “Oh, her old brown gown—she was all in brown, I think;” but she did not understand why Mr. Ferrers seemed so strangely agitated at her answer.
“The tall young lady in brown, who seemed to notice you wanted help;” he remembered those words of Miss Merriman. Good Heavens! it must have been she; it must have been her little hand that guided him so gently; oh, his miserable blindness. Of course she had seen this Percy Trafford, and he had told her all about the guest they expected, and she had come to the station just to see him once again.
But he would not speak of this to Fern; his darling’s secret should be kept by him; he would hide these sweet proofs of her love and devotion in his own breast. Fern wondered why the miserable, harassed look left his face. He looked quite young—a different man—as he bade her good-bye; his shoulders were no longer stooping, his head was erect.
“Good-bye, Miss Trafford,” he said. “I shall come and see you and your mother again before I leave. I shall go back to Sandycliffe next week, and set my house in order, and talk to my sister. I do not doubt for a moment that she will offer to accompany me. I shall not come back until I bring Crystal with me.” And Fern quite believed him. There were restless sleepers that night in Belgrave House. Raby was revolving his plans and wondering what Margaret would say; and on the other side of the wall Erle tossed, wakeful and wretched, knowing that his fate was sealed, and that Evelyn Selby and not Fern Trafford was to be his future wife. And now, as he lay in the darkness, he told himself that in spite of her goodness and beauty he could never love her as he loved Fern. He knew it at the moment he asked her to marry him, and when she put her hand in his and told him frankly that he had long won her heart.
“You are too much a gentleman to treat a woman badly,” Mr. Huntingdon had said to him, well knowing the softness and generosity of Erle’s nature; and yet, was he not treating Fern badly?