She tried to reach him, to warn him; but she was voiceless and he had disappeared.
It was Charlie himself, so the old gardener said, who wrote to tell him that he and Mariella were to be married. Master Charles had always been the beloved one,—the one to be ready with a smile and a pleasant word, and never a bit of haughtiness for all his Grannie made such a little prince of him.
‘And when this old war’s over, Lacey,’ he says, ‘we’ll be coming back to live in the dear old house. Grannie wants us to,’ he says, ‘and you may be sure we want to. We were never ones to like London. So look out for us before long.’ But ah! he had to come through the fighting first. They were to get married at once, for he was off to the front. Speaking for himself, said the old gardener, he’d have had enough of life if anything happened to Master Charlie.
The next day, the announcement of their marriage at a registry office appeared in the “Times.”
‘Why, they can’t be more than nineteen,’ said Mamma, ‘and first cousins, too. A dreadful mistake. However, I suppose the chances are——’ and she sighed, settling her V.A.D. cap before the mirror. ‘I must write to the old lady. They were good-looking children—one of them especially. Why don’t you send a nice little note to the girl, Judith? You used to play together such a lot.’
‘Oh, she wouldn’t remember me,’ said Judith, and went quickly away, sick with shock.
Married, those two. Mariella a wife: Mrs. Charles Fyfe.
‘I am young Mrs. Fyfe. This is Charlie, my husband.’
How had it happened?
‘Mariella, you must marry me, you must, you must. Oh, Mariella, I do want to marry you, and I’m going to the front so I do think I might be allowed to have what I want. I may be killed and I shan’t have had anything out of life. Oh, Mariella, please! You know you’re happiest with us, Mariella. You couldn’t marry anyone outside and leave us all, could you? Nor could I. I couldn’t bear to be touched by any other woman. You and I understand each other so well we couldn’t be unhappy. We are different from other people, you know. Marry me and I’ll come back from the war. But if you say no I’ll just go out and let myself be killed at once....’