JACK CORRY stayed with the Bellews, and Norah Guiness listened in vain that night for the step to which she had become accustomed, and which made her heart beat more quickly when it approached.
Her boy brothers made many a journey to the gate to look for Jack, and grumbled loudly at his nonappearance.
Norah looked and spoke calmly enough. She told the boys they must not be selfish. They had seen a great deal of Jack Corry lately, and must not expect him always to give them so much of his time. But while Norah spoke bravely, she was conscious of a strange foreboding for which she could not account, and against which she battled bravely, but in vain.
The boys accused her of being cross, and then felt ashamed of themselves, and said so, when she proved the contrary by her extra kindness. Her father thought her very silent, and began to tell, what was news to Norah, that Mrs. Bellew and Jeannie were back at Benvora.
The girl's face brightened directly.
"Then, of course, Jack had gone to see them. How could he do anything else? I am so glad, for Jeannie must be a great deal better, or they would not have ventured to return. Mr. Bellew did not expect them until May, and it is only the middle of April. How delighted he will be!"
The weight was gone; the cloud was nowhere to be seen. Norah, in the singleness of her heart, was rejoicing in the joy of others, and feeling that if Jack Corry had not gone straight to Benvora that evening, he would have fallen many degrees in her estimation. He would come to them the next night, no doubt.
But Jack did not come, and a week passed before he at length made his appearance. Then somehow, he was not quite the same Jack who had last parted with Norah, who had lingered over his leave-taking, and by the look from his eyes had caused hers to droop, and her heart to beat more quickly. He was kind, of course; Jack Corry could be nothing else. He had brought things for the boys which enriched them for the time, and called forth the remark, "Jack, you are the biggest brick living." Whereat he had laughed as merrily as usual. He had talked cheerily to Mr. Guiness, and then—well, he had no time to steal to Norah's side and talk to her whilst she worked, or beg for a favourite song. Only just enough for a hurried good-night, and he was gone, almost without waiting for an answer, quite without the lingering farewell or one of the looks which had been silently telling a love story to Norah for months past.
Jack was gone—doubly gone—and Norah, quick to note the change in their pleasant guest, began to ask herself what could have brought it about.
During the last few days she and Jeannie Bellew had exchanged visits, and Norah had been struck with the subtle difference which had taken place in the girl during her absence from home. That daintily-dressed young lady, with her self-possessed manners and knowledge of the outer world, could hardly be Jeannie, her girl friend and junior by a couple of years. Then she was so changeable. At one moment she was almost patronising to Norah, and would give herself little airs which made the elder girl smile. Again, she would throw off all the crust she had gathered during her travels, and seem the most artless, loving, childish creature imaginable.