Richard picked up the dead thrush, and gently stroked its glossy feathers, then laid it down amongst some shrubs, saying, "It shall be buried by and by. You may think me sentimental for a man, but I do not like to cover the poor little body with earth whilst it is warm with the life that has but just fled."
"I think you feel just as I do. Why should a man be less pitiful than a girl?" replied Norah.
Richard smiled in reply, and led the way to the roses, for his guest to make choice amongst them. At first he had felt sorry that Norah should be with only her aunt and Molly, beside himself, for the other girls were engaged at a tennis party, to which they had been invited before they knew when Miss Pease would return. But he never forgot that evening which seemed to bring the girl guest and himself so near together, and that night he dreamed of the slender white-robed figure framed by the angle window.
Day followed day, and each developed some new charm in Norah. She had travelled much, and had a well-stored mind, without the smallest taint of pedantry. She was a born musician, but though her voice was well cultivated, she owed less to her teachers than to her natural gifts, and when she sang, none could help listening with delight.
The Whitmore girls loved her. Even Gertrude felt the spell, for with all Norah was so sweet, frank, tender, and natural, that she won hearts without effort. She had won one that hitherto had never been stirred in like manner, for Richard Whitmore had given to Norah all the love of which his large heart was capable.
Outsiders began to smile as they saw the young master of Mere Side so constant in his attendance on his graceful guest. Miss Sharp found something new to talk about, and whispered to gossips like herself, that any one could see what Miss Pease had brought Norah to Saltshire for. She had fished for an invitation for her niece in order to get her a rich husband. How hard it would be for those four girls to give place to a chit like that!
Gentle Miss Pease had her qualms of conscience lest she might be misjudged in this matter, though she knew her brother's only child would be a rich heiress, and no unsuitable mate in that respect for Richard Whitmore.
And Gertrude! She was not blind. She guessed her brother's secret, but said nothing, though a fierce combat was going on within her. Self was battling against her love for Richard, and that which Norah had wrung from her in spite of her will. She felt how well suited they were to each other, and yet she could not endure the idea of Richard taking to himself a wife.
The other girls had no such feelings, but would have welcomed Norah as a sister with open arms.
Week followed week, and it was near the end of August. Still Norah stayed on at Mere Side, and waited in expectation of her father's coming, and still he was prevented from joining her there. His letters were frequent and full of regrets, though he expressed the hope that present self-denial would lead to satisfactory results, and that when these business matters were settled, a future of rest would be before him.