"I have lived among them always. A country life has interest enough for me; but I do sometimes wish to see more than these familiar objects, and, but for an outcry among the girls, I should have joined a scientific expedition this last spring. I could not leave the mother awhile back, or my sisters in their sorrow. Perhaps I may give up the idea altogether," he added in a musing fashion, "though there is such an expedition annually in connection with a society to which I belong."
"I hope you will not be away when I—when my father comes to Mere Side," said Norah.
And Dick responded emphatically—
"I certainly shall not."
Later on in the twilight Norah sat at the piano and sang one song after another, and then they stole an hour from sleep, and all talked of the happy days they had spent together, and of their hope of meeting again. At the same time on the following evening the swallows were skimming to and fro, but Norah was gone, and the house seemed empty to its master, though all the rest were left. But as he sat in the library, with his head leaning on his hand, Richard saw neither books nor aught around him.
He was picturing that slender, white-robed figure as he first saw it in the doorway. He heard none of the sounds going on around, though the tennis-players were on the lawn and the bold song of the robins came from every bush. What he heard was a sweet voice flooding the room with a richer song, and one that spoke more to his heart than theirs.
And Richard smiled to himself as he said, "The seat in the angle window, the mother's seat, will be filled again, and I shall hear the dear voice that makes my heart thrill as no other can, in place of the echo which memory gives me now. For I felt her little hand tremble in mine, and though she said 'good-bye' in a brave voice to all the rest, she could not say it to me, though her lips parted and closed. I had her last look, and tears were shining in her eyes as she gave it. They are speaking eyes, and they said to me, 'I am sorry to go, but I will not forget my promise. I will come again.'"
[CHAPTER VI.]
THE FRAME HAS A PICTURE ONCE MORE.
NORAH wrote as soon as possible to tell of her arrival at Paris, and pour forth on the same sheet her regrets at parting from the Whitmores, and her pleasure in being with all her kith and kin. At first there seemed a prospect of their returning to England; but later on, instead of hearing that a time was fixed for their coming, news arrived of a contrary character. The doctors advised Colonel Pease to winter at Cannes, in order that after so many years spent in India, he might not be too suddenly exposed to the severity of the season in England.