“Methinks you will have to go through that disagreeable ordeal. When I see him I shall casually mention that I have asked you to be here at five this afternoon.”
But Eustace did not wait so long to hear Betty’s thanks. He laid no stress on his services save as a pretext to see her, and when his duties at headquarters were over he boldly presented himself at Mistress Clevering’s door; and Betty, blushing and palpitating, came down to meet him; and seeing her thus, his heart surrendered itself anew. But her mother, following close in her wake, gave him no chance to say the things he longed.
“We deeply appreciate your efforts for my son, Master Singleton,” she said, sitting stiffly on the extreme edge of her chair, as if ready to rise on the instant.
“I have called this morning, madam, not to receive your thanks, for I do not deserve them; but to say how sorry I was not to do more for him and for you, and also to express my sincere regrets over his death.”
“Your regrets are misplaced; my son still lives.”
He stood up, amazed; and the lady also rose as though to bid him adieu. “Still alive? You astound me, madam; I saw his death record.”
“He escaped instead of dying.”
“It sounds like a miracle; but I am glad of it.” He turned to Betty, but her mother had not resumed her seat, and so he, too, stood in an awkward hesitation. But the girl put out her hands with an impulsive gesture, and he gathered them both close in his.
“It was good of you—so good to go to that horrible ship!”
“I would have gone to the ends of the world to serve you. Your simplest wish would be my law, and I would count myself well paid with a smile or one gentle word.” He had forgotten her mother standing there like a sphinx; and Betty’s face went suddenly pale, and then as suddenly reddened and dimpled, for he bent down and kissed each of her hands lingeringly.