A Secret of the Sea: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)

by T. W. Speight

In the first place, Eleanor's visit to Miss Lorrimore, instead of being for two days only, extended over five. In the second place, when she did get back to Stammars, she found that Gerald was away in London on business for Sir Thomas. This was a little disappointment to her, for by this time she was growing impatient to see him again. She did not like to ask how soon he was expected back, and no one volunteered to tell her.

How bitterly she blamed herself now for running away from him! What a strange, flighty girl he must take her to be! Perhaps, as she had so deliberately run away from him, he would not think her worthy of further notice, and would regard all that had happened between them as nothing more than a foolish dream. This thought was almost unbearable, and now was Eleanor as wretched as she had been happy before. But to be frequently wretched and miserable is part of the penalty incurred by all who are so weak-minded as to fall in love. Such people are not to be pitied.

Gerald, on his side, being smitten with the same disorder, was subject to the same exaltations and depressions, had his hours of fever and his hours of chill. At one time he felt sure that Eleanor loved him a little in return. Had he not seen, or fancied that he saw, a world of love and trust in her eyes during those few brief seconds when she had let him press her to his heart? At another time he felt sure that his roughness and impetuosity had frightened her: that she was staying away from Stammars on purpose to avoid him; that he had offended her past recovery. It was almost a relief to be sent up to London on business by Sir Thomas, who, being about this time confined to his room with a severe cold, was obliged to make use of Gerald in various ways. Gerald hoped that by the time he got back from town Eleanor would have returned to Stammars, in which case he had quite made up his mind that he would lose no time in deciding his fate once for all.

In his more hopeful moments, it was very pleasant to him to think that Eleanor had learned, or was learning, to love him for himself alone. As a poor man he had wooed her, and as a poor man he should win her. He often speculated as to what would be the effect upon her of the news which he must of necessity tell her before he could make her his wife. In the first place, he could not marry her under a false name. He must necessarily tell her that her name was not Eleanor Lloyd, but Eleanor Murray. Then would follow, as a matter of course, her father's story, which would, in its turn, elicit the fact that, as Jacob Lloyd had died without a will, Eleanor had no right to a single sixpence of the property he had left behind him. Next would have to come the telling of everything to Ambrose Murray. Last but not least, would come the revelation to Eleanor that the man she was going to marry was not John Pomeroy, but Gerald Warburton. One fact he would, if it were possible to do so, keep from her till after their marriage--he would not let her know that he was the heir to Jacob Lloyd's property--to the wealth which she had all along believed to be hers. It was his fancy that she should marry him in the belief that he was a poor man. All the greater would be her after-surprise.

It so fell out that a couple of days after Eleanor's return from her visit to Miss Lorrimore, and while Gerald was still absent from Stammars, Mr. Pod Piper, whom it is hoped the reader has not quite forgotten, was sent there with certain papers that required Sir Thomas's signature. Having taken the papers into the library, Pod was told to go and amuse himself for half an hour, by which time the documents would be ready for him to take back to Mr. Kelvin.

Pod was one of those people who never find much difficulty in amusing themselves. His first proceeding was to make his way to the kitchen and ask whether they had got any cold sirloin and strong ale with which to refresh a weary wayfarer. Pod was not unknown at Stammars, and his needs were duly attended to. After that he strolled into the garden, and ensconcing himself behind a large laurel, where he could not be seen from any of the windows, he proceeded to light and smoke the remaining half of a cigar which he happened to have by him. Cigars being a luxury that he could not often indulge in, Pod generally contrived to make one last him for two occasions.

When the cigar was smoked down to the last half-inch, Pod thought that he would take a turn round the conservatory, and as he felt sure that the crusty-looking old gardener had never seen him before, it struck him that there would be no harm in trying to impress the old fellow with the belief that he was being honoured by the presence of some guest of distinction--"some young swell of the upper ten," as Pod put it to himself. Accordingly, before opening the glass door of the conservatory, Mr. Piper produced from his pocket a pair of rather dingy lavender kid gloves, one of which he put on, leaving the other to be carried in an easy, dégagé style, such as would seem natural to a young fellow whose uncle was a marquis at the very least. The fact, however, was, that the gloves were odd ones, and as they were both intended for the right hand, Pod could not conveniently wear more than one of them at a time.

Pod's next proceeding was to give his hat a careful polish with the sleeve of his coat, and then to cock it a little more on one side of his head than he usually wore it. Then one end of his white handkerchief was allowed to hang negligently out of his pocket. Then, from some mysterious receptacle Pod produced an eye-glass. Many weary hours had he spent in his attempts to master the nice art of wearing an eye-glass easily and without conscious effort. But as yet his labours could hardly be said to be crowned with success, seeing that the glass would persist in dropping from his eye at awkward moments, when, by all the laws that regulate such matters, it ought to have been most firmly fixed in its orbit.

As soon as Pod's little arrangements were completed, he opened the door, and marched boldly into the conservatory. The old gardener glared sulkily at him, as gardeners have a habit of doing when any one invades what they look upon as their private domains. But Pod, caring nothing for sulky looks, swaggered up and down the flowery aisles, making believe, glass in eye, to read the different Latin labels, as though he thoroughly understood them. Presently, he caught sight of a little group of people crossing one of the garden-paths outside. Looking more closely, he saw that one of them was Olive Deane; the others, judging from their appearance, were her two pupils and some friends of theirs.

The sight of Miss Deane seemed to surprise Mr. Piper into temporary forgetfulness both of his eye-glass and the Latin labels. He sat down in a brown study, and was still sitting, deep in thought, when, hearing one of the doors clash, he looked up and saw Miss Lloyd coming slowly towards him. "Why, here she is--her very self! And isn't she a beauty!" he muttered. "No time like the present. I'll tell her now." And with that his eye-glass and his lavender gloves were next moment smuggled safely out of sight.